The Root of All Evil

The Root of All Evil

Published by Sonya C. Dodd at Smashwords

Copyright Sonya C. Dodd 2013

For Lynn and Jonathan

Other titles available by Sonya C. Dodd:

Brass Buttons

A Whisper in the Wind

Harbour of Dreams (a sequel to A Whisper in the Wind)

Siren Call

Echo of a Siren (a sequel to Siren Call)

Affirmation of the Sirens (a sequel to Echo of a Siren)

Dear Mother

With Hindsight

2000 Words: A collection of short stories

No Man is an Island and other stories

Who’s Real?

For further details visit: www.sonyacdodd

Prologue

He looked down at her lifeless body without remorse. She’d had it coming to her for a long time. Okay, she had been fun at the start; her innocence had been like a breath of fresh air when he had first met her: young, ripe for exploiting and a long way from home.

He had been able to manipulate her easily in the beginning. She had been awestruck by his obvious importance, had loved his mansion, fast cars and enjoyed sharing his bed. The innocence had gone quickly. Most of them didn’t react well at having to share him at first, but that was the way it was and they could put up with it or leave. He found that they soon learned to put up with it, some came to enjoy it even.

Of course, he knew they wouldn’t leave. Why would they want to give up the good life that he offered them? Whores, all of them, he thought with disgust.

Marie had soaked up her new life like a sponge. Once he’d got her trained, doing what he liked in bed, she’d been a real turn on. The other girls were jealous of her, hated her good looks and great figure. He couldn’t see much evidence of that now as he looked down at her. She had become too reliant on the drugs, couldn’t function without them and had become a bit of a drag. Her body was no longer as shapely and her face was drawn and pale. Dark shadows surrounded her once sparkling eyes.

A shame, he’d hoped she would go on longer but she had become mouthy, a liability. How dare she threaten him! The stupid little tart would never do that again. How she’d imagined that the authorities would listen to a junkie like her, he’d never know.

He drew the knife out of his pocket and flicked the blade. For a moment he admired the sharpness of the knife edge as it glistened in the sunlight which shone through the open bathroom window. Then he knelt down and gently drew the blade down, first her left, then her right wrist. Easy come, easy go, he thought, smiling.

Returning the knife to his pocket, he watched mesmerised as the small trickle of blood ran down each of her arms and slowly began to drip into the bath from her elbows. She was already as good as dead: he’d given her a lethal cocktail earlier but, being a stickler for detail, he neatened up the line of coke by her face on the bath’s rim with his finger and took a step back to admire his work.

He smiled. Perfect, he thought, licking his finger clean. If only she could see the effort he’d put in to giving her such a send-off; he was sure she would have approved.

Glancing at his Rolex, he took a final look around the room. He was satisfied. It should fool a novice like her boyfriend; scare the shit out of him, no doubt. That was the plan anyway.

He ran his hand through his thick, dark hair and then blew her a kiss before pulling the door to behind him. Goodnight, beautiful Marie, he whispered.

Glancing at the dishevelled bed as he passed the bedroom doorway, he smiled at the memory of their final fuck; Marie had been obliging, even though off her face. He was glad it had been in their bed; the boyfriend would never know but he would still have the satisfaction. Then the front door clicked quietly shut and he slipped unnoticed down the stairs to his waiting car, already thinking about his next appointment.

PART ONE

LILY

Chapter 1

I couldn’t help but fall in love with Daniel: his black, wavy hair, Italian good looks and once I’d looked into those dark eyes with the long lashes, I was hooked! He moved in with me after our first date and that was it, or so I’d thought.

I was still at college when we had first met; I was studying law and Daniel was an artist. It had sounded slightly mysterious and glamorous compared to my own dull existence; I’d never met an artist before and the Bohemian lifestyle appealed to the romantic in me I suppose.

My parents had bought me my house when I’d been given a place at college. Being practical my dad had said it made more sense than paying out on rent each month which was effectively money down the drain. I adored my house in Notting Hill and having a room in the basement which was easily turned into a studio for Daniel: it all seemed pretty much perfect.

Once I’d graduated it certainly was useful not having to pay rent or mortgage. I had secured myself a job as a trainee solicitor at a company called Smith Ireson and partners but Daniel was struggling to make much as an artist and wouldn’t discuss the possibility of getting himself another job. Always promising that his ‘masterpiece’, the one which would seal his professional reputation, was just beyond the horizon, I soon came to realise that this horizon was always just out of reach! Daniel hates it whenever I bring up the subject of money; ‘the artistic muse cannot create to order’ was his stock response. I know it must be terribly boring for him to listen to me sorting out our finances or discussing the pile of papers I’d sometimes have to bring home from work but, just sometimes I wished he’d take hold of the reins for me. I didn’t like feeling as though I was his mother as well as his girlfriend. My mum always said I was too serious for someone of my age but if I’d been more like Daniel then I hate to think what kind of squalor we’d have been living in. Maybe it was just as well I am as I am; one of us needs to keep things on an even keel. But, however frustrating life with Daniel could be, I loved him like crazy: I breathed him and knew I needed him more than he needed me. Sometimes it scared me that I was smothering him and he’d just walk away but for some reason he seemed happy to be with me and so life trundled along, smoothly most of the time and we got on with our lives as best we could.

It had been a particularly long, and rather dull day at work and by the time I left the office to go home, the heavens had opened. I was wet before I even got to the bus stop, rain water was dripping down the back of my neck; I couldn’t hold an umbrella as well as a briefcase, a handbag and a shoulder bag. And then two buses went by before one came along with any room in it. It was crowded and smelly; the windows were steamed up and when I eventually stepped off, I managed to do so into a puddle which would have been big enough to suit a family of ducks!

Of course, this meant that when I got home and saw Daniel sitting in his paint-splattered jeans and a T-shirt, cross-legged on the sofa in front of the television, eating pizza from a box because he had forgotten we were going to an awards evening for my work, it was like the icing on the cake.

I heard myself shouting at him as a pool of rain water gathered around my feet from my dripping clothes. Daniel, you knew it was tonight; it’s been on the calendar for weeks and I even reminded you this morning before I left for work. My frustration with him was clear and I was glad that my wet face disguised the tears which pricked at my eyes. Whenever he was working everything else went out of his head, I knew that, but it was always something which was important to me that he managed to forget.

I’m sorry baby, but I’ve been busy all day and had it in my head that it wasn’t until Thursday. He shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands in an apologetic manner.

I let my bags slide to the floor where I stood and prised my wet shoes from my soaked feet. Well, can’t you get changed now? You know I hate going to these things on my own, I begged, trying not to sound like a whining child.

I would but I’m eating this and it’s the only food I’ve had all day. I watched helplessly as he sucked up the melted cheese from the top of the pizza into his hungry mouth. He continued: After this, I really need to carry on working; I really think I’m on to something this time. He stuffed another mouthful of pizza in before I could say anything as though to prove his point as well as bringing the conversation to an abrupt end.

How many times had I heard those words? I really think I’m on to something this time, I mimicked in my head. I looked down at the wet floor, disappointed but knowing that Daniel would not be swayed; he hated these events more than I did and I would have spent the evening worrying whether he was totally bored as well as worrying about the impression I was making to those people who mattered in my future career.

I’m going to get showered and changed, I told him as I left him to his pizza, hoping the slam of the door would illustrate my annoyance sufficiently to him rather than starting a pointless argument now.

I let the hot water drum against my shoulders, just standing there as shivers swept over me. Red dress or black? I wondered. Daniel had chosen the red one; he said it made me look sexy. In my opinion it made me feel too self conscience with the revealing neckline and besides, I didn’t like wearing red very much, so I opted for the black: much more sophisticated and professional looking.

When I was ready to go I went back downstairs and found Daniel in the kitchen. The pizza box lay open on the worktop and he’d just opened a can of lager. Wow! Look at you, he smiled, planting a kiss on my cheek. You look fantastic. What time does it finish? I’ll wait up for you. His eyes were undressing me and I smiled coyly in spite of myself. The relief was also apparent on his face that he knew he’d been let off the hook from having to come with me.

I think it’ll be around eleven. I’ll get a cab home so don’t worry. I smoothed down my dress removing non-existent creases. Are you sure I look okay? I asked giving an impromptu twirl and looking at him hopefully.

Darling, you look good enough to eat. If it wasn’t vital for you to go to this thing I’d take you straight back upstairs now and show you how great I think you look, he replied cheekily and moved closer.

I gave him a flirtatious look and kissed him briefly on the lips, ducking out of the way of his outstretched arms. See you later, I called back over my shoulder as I left the house, not wanting to be late.

At least I’d been put on a table with Trish; we’d been friends since college and had both managed to get jobs in the same law firm. Trish was a lot more out going than me and, although we were the same age, liked to treat me like a younger sister. She was always worrying about me, particularly when it came to my relationship with Daniel. I know she was convinced that he was only using me because I had a house, somewhere to base himself until he could stand on his own two feet; although again, she was also sure that he was never going to make anything of himself as an artist so would be sponging off me until I drew a pension. Usually we avoided talking about it because she knew it upset me with not having her support, and also her boyfriend, Duncan had been responsible for introducing me to Daniel at a party a couple of years earlier, so that kind of made her feel a bit guilty as well as annoyed at Duncan for getting me involved with Daniel in the first place!

Despite this sticking point, I loved her dearly and she was always around to pick up the pieces when I needed her.

Where’s Daniel tonight? Duncan asked, leaning across Trish to speak to me. Nothing could ever throw Duncan; he was the life and soul of any party and managed to always diffuse any situation when Trish got on her high horse about anything, including Daniel.

He’s working on a new project, I shouted back, trying to make myself heard above the buzz of conversation which filled the large banqueting hall we were all seated in. There must have been two to three hundred people in the room, very few of who I recognised so I was glad to have the security of my friends here with me. It was mainly a public relations evening, and although we’d been told we had to be there, being new thankfully we weren’t required to mingle.

So I didn’t really need to be here either, Duncan exclaimed in mock disgust. Trish pulled a face at me as if to say ‘thanks a lot!’ and I tried to look apologetic.

Miss Sutherland, where’s your artist boyfriend this evening? I recognised the familiar voice of Andrew James; he must have been standing right behind me. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my hair, if I turned to reply I would be practically kissing him. He was one of the junior partners in the firm and was heading for great things, so everyone said. He oozed confidence, was tall and very good looking, and he knew it too. He had been one of the people who had interviewed me for my job and as he was always keen on pointing out to me, had been instrumental in securing my position in the company.

His hands were resting on the back of my chair and I noticed Trish watching me with a look of amusement in her eye at my obvious discomfort. I think Andrew was much more the kind of boyfriend Trish had in mind for me and, if I’m honest, I don’t think I’d have had to do too much to encourage him in that direction.

I’m afraid Daniel is working on a major project at the moment which has detained him. I hoped my voice sounded more confident than I felt.

What a shame, it would have been delightful to have met him, he replied with little sincerity. You must remind me where I can go to see some of his work on display. He spoke into my ear, my body was held rigid at the close proximity of this man being so close to me. His words stung me, he knew that Daniel was still an unknown artist and obviously had similar views to Trish on Daniel’s position in my life. Perhaps they should get together and map my life out, I mused.

Don’t worry Andrew, I’ll get you a ticket to his first exhibition, I replied, smiling with greater confidence than I felt for that event happening any time soon.

I heard him laugh but was saved from further grilling by an announcement that the speeches and award-giving was about to commence. I felt his fingers touch my hair for a moment before he wandered casually back to his own seat, waving and making small talk as he passed tables.

I pulled myself together, relief flooding through me that he had not lingered. He is so slimy, I whispered across to Trish, not wishing her to think I was flattered in any way by Andrew’s attention.

I think he expects you to show more gratitude for his role in helping to get you your job here, she said provocatively.

Good one Trish, I thought. I made a pretence of sticking my fingers down my throat and vomiting to show how repulsive that idea was to me.

You are crazy, she replied, laughing. There are girls out there who would sell their souls to be seen on the arm of Mr James. He is going places, unlike some people I could name.

Below the belt Trish, I thought, knowing that she was referring to Daniel. She was always bringing up the fact that I was a fool to let Daniel live and work in my house rent free and that it was about time he faced up to reality and made some money. Duncan and Daniel might be best friends but Trish did not let that fact stand in the way of her opinions.

I let her comment go, not wanting to go over old ground yet again. The evening dragged on with speeches all sounding the same, thanking the same people, raising the same levels of polite applause and laughter. However, the wine was free which helped as I drunk more than was probably sensible.

We were finally able to escape into the freedom of the night, Trish and Duncan were getting the tube and offered to wait with me until I could get a cab but there were plenty of people milling around and so I told them to go.

Once alone, I stamped my feet and my eyes scoured the traffic looking for a familiar lit yellow light of an available black cab. A few rain drops began to fall; great, I thought, now everyone will want a taxi.

The roar of an expensive sounding sports car engine drew my attention as I heard a voice call out from the darkness inside: Can I give you a lift?

I stepped off the kerb and bent down to see Andrew James’ smiling face looking hopefully up at me. He sat smugly behind the steering wheel as though he were a knight in shining armour riding his steed.

No I’m fine, thank you, I replied, and began looking along the road again hoping he’d take it as a cue to drive away.

You could be ages, he called out, with this lot waiting here too. Come on it’s raining again and I have to go through Notting Hill anyway.

‘No’ was obviously not a word which appeared in his vocabulary I thought. He was right though. The crowd didn’t seem to be moving and I didn’t fancy getting soaked all over again. I shrugged and walked round to the passenger door. It couldn’t hurt, I concluded, and I just wanted to get home to bed now.

How do you know where I live? I asked as I pulled the door closed and the car sped off before I could even reach for the seat belt.

Personnel files, he replied, fiddling with the CD player. Where to? he asked mischievously.

Home, I replied bluntly.

Mine or yours? he asked with a grin.

I couldn’t help but let a small laugh out. How I wished I could come out with comments as quickly and effectively as that. Don’t you ever give up?

I usually get what I want, he