Deceit. [COMPLETED.]

Chapter 3:

Hampshire England
                                                                
FOUR YEARS AGO
                                                                                                                        
[ROBERT STAMFORD]

'I refuse to be drawn on this subject and that's my final word.'

'But you can't do this!'

'I can and I have. The subject is closed and has been for the last six years. It's over, in the past, and it is time you learnt to move on.'

'I know and believe me I am trying to but can't you see that by keeping this from me all you are doing is pushing me further and further away.'

Business had been particularly bad the past week. An investment opportunity had faltered and Stamford was in no mood for an argument.

'You have your life back for God sake,' he growled irritably striding away from his daughter into the sanctuary of his study, 'which is more than I can say for a lot of people. You should think yourself lucky.'

His daughter, undeterred, followed and huffed in exasperation.

'Lucky? Oh yes of course. I mustn't forget. I am sorry papa for being so insensitive. Being raped and losing my baby was just an inconvenience then was it?'

Outside, a fountain of a man spouted water from his penis. It was a stone statue made to order. The life sized figure possessed all the physical attributes that Stamford could only dream of; a flat stomach, a granite chin, a full head of hair. It was also grinning, something Stamford rarely did and when anyone saw the statue they always thought it to be his alter ego but they would be wrong because it was a personal message that only Stamford could understand and it said that he could piss on everything and anyone that got in his way.

He tried to blot out the noise of his daughter's rant concentrating instead on the sound of the fountain but after a while it was no good and so he hefted a sigh and brought his lips tight together. He turned round as anger lines began to crease his wide forehead.

'Now you're just being silly my girl and you know it. You are a grown woman for Christ sake. It isn't as if you are ill. You still have your health; your money. Do something with your life for God sake instead of wallowing in the past all the time.'

A pigeon shoot had been organised for today; another opportunity to make money. It had been planned for weeks. The weather was perfect. Not too hot and only a slight wind but he was late and he hated being late. He checked his watch trying in vain to ignore his daughter's voice as it rose to a crescendo behind him.

'But I am stuck in the past papa and will be until you tell me where she is buried. Why won't you just tell me?'

'Because she was cremated!' he snapped. 'There I've said it.'

Damn his daughter.

Although it was far from the truth he was annoyed all the same that she had made him angry and that she had forced him to say something he might now live to regret. He tried to make it sound more convincing.

'You were in no fit state to do anything at the time,' he continued. 'It was for your own good. We were asked and your mother and I agreed. It was all over very quickly and that's all you need to know.'

But Jennifer Stamford was not about to give up that quickly not now that she was the closest she had ever been to finding out what had happened to her daughter and she was not about to let this revelation go unchallenged.

'But they will keep records,' she cried. 'Someone will know. It will show where her ashes were scattered.'

She moved quickly for the door ignoring her father's retaliation.

'They won't tell you! It will be a wild goose chase. I gave them explicit instructions that we were not to be informed. You are wasting your time my girl. Why do you think I have kept it from you all these years? No good will ever come of it!'

He followed quickly through into their vast hallway with its sweeping ivory staircase but she had already disappeared out through the front door.

He was confident she wouldn't find anything. The hospital records had been doctored. He had seen to that and doubted after all this time anyone would even remember what had happened but, damn it, he would now need to check again just to make sure.

Outside the light breeze did nothing to sooth his irritation as he watched his daughter drive away in her nice new sports car, folding his arms in defiance as dark brown eyes followed the clouds of dust made as she sped away towards the main gate.

Back indoors he grabbed for his gun jacket and paused in the quiet of his hallway. No one was around. He frowned deep in thought rattled by a slip of a girl who should have known better than to have asked a question that had been buried now for so long.

He played back the events in his mind from that night in the hospital. He could hear his daughter's screams and he could still see the pained expression on his wife's face but what he had done had always been for the best. He had made damned sure that his actions that night would never come back to haunt him and yet why did he now have that nagging feeling  that he had missed something?

Maybe it wasn't just the hospital records he needed to check? Maybe he needed to go right back to the source? Maybe what had happened afterwards was the very reason he should be worried? He made a mental note to contact someone in the morning who he knew would be able to find out all the answers he needed and close any gaps in his otherwise foolproof plan.

He felt more relaxed after that. A decision had been made. It left him to think again of the day ahead. A lot of important people had been invited; too many good opportunities to make a profit and that one thought at least brought a smile back to his otherwise gritted expression.

He left in his Land Rover a few minutes later creating the same dust cloud that his daughter had made earlier. He drove in silence. Both front windows were down allowing the wind to strike his face in the hope it would sweep away any doubts he still might have.

The only real weak link to what had happened all those years ago was his wife. It had always been this way. She had disagreed at the time and he had always known that given the right opportunity Mrs Stamford would tell her daughter in an instant what had really happened only Stamford knew his daughter better than anyone and of one thing he never doubted and that was ...

If his daughter ever did find out the truth then God help them all.

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Secrets are never good are they? They always have a tendency to come back and haunt those that keep them.

Thank you for the read and vote and comment where you can.
Take care. JU x