WHITHER THOU GOEST 8 - ADRIAN'S STORY PART 2

There was a letter from my Dad, written in his fine old-fashioned handwriting.

 

 

 

My Dear Son Adrian,

 

First of all I have to beg your forgiveness.  This will not be an easy letter for you to read, and it sure wasn’t an easy one for me to write.  I have done some real bad things in my life, and some good I guess;  one of the best things was to bring you into the world, and I want to assure you that there is nothing and no-one, son, that I have ever loved more than I love you, and much of what I am going to tell you here I did to protect you.

 

You will be wondering where all the cash in that little old account book came from.  Well I have to confess I haven’t been quite straight with you and Caroline – it’s true I was a travelling salesman – but some of what I dealt in was not exactly within the law, hence the rich rewards, and the good life I was able to give you and your Momma.  I hope it will smooth the path for you and your family through life. I will not trouble you with the details just now, though I’ve a feeling you will know all sooner or later – but now you know why I was away such a lot when you were growing up.

 

Now this next confession is not just me wanting to get it off my chest, but wanting to give you a full explanation as possible.

 

I sure loved your Momma, such a pretty little thing, sweet and such fun to be around; I used to call her my little MC – Marjorie-Cherrypie - but I’m the kind of man who has needs, and I got lonesome at times. So I had affairs when I was away, and even I am ashamed to admit, some nearer home.  Well I am not sure how it happened, but one day one of my lady friends was murdered.  I swear to God it was not me;  I was questioned, so was everyone else thereabouts, but no-one was ever charged.  I decided to move away and start again to protect your momma from gossip.

 

Then it happened again with another of my gals.  I promise you boy it was not me.  Once again, no-one was charged, and once again we moved house.  Your sweet Momma was not silly, she knew I had my special little ‘friends’, but she turned a blind eye, never mentioned it, and fell in with my plans.  Sure as hell, wherever I was, away on business or home, attacks would happen on women I may or may not have associated with.

 

One day I had been away; I came home early and your Momma was out.  You would still have been at school, but as the dog was not there and the pick-up gone, I guessed she had driven to the park for a walk.  I decided to drive over to see one of my ‘friends’, and walked round the back of her house, as she would often be tending her garden.  I was just in time to see your Momma driving away in her pickup.  My ‘friend’ was laying on the ground, and there was blood on the path.  You can see how it looked, and the awful, unimaginable conclusion that I was forced to draw – your sweet Momma had found out about my lady friends and had been on an attacking spree all these years.

 

Coward that I am, I didn’t even stop to see if she was dead or alive; I just got back in my car and went home pretty fast.  I got home just before she did; but she just welcomed me back like nothing had happened.  What could I do?  I let it lie, and in due course, we moved house again, but there were always attacks on women wherever we were; I did not know all of these poor girls, but I did get the feeling it was all to do with me; I was sometimes questioned but never charged, and once again I swear on your childrens’ lives, it was not me.

 

Now my boy, this next part is going to be even harder for you to take in, but I hope that you will forgive me my weakness in all this.

 

Your Momma was not my first wife.  I was married to a woman called Julia some years before I met Marjorie.  We had a daughter – yes boy, you have a half-sister. I never told your Mother about my first marriage, which was wrong of me I know, but eventually she found out; I had been careless with some of my papers on one of my trips away, and she threw it all at me in a screaming fight as soon as I next got home. You might remember it.  I told Marjorie it was her and you, Adrian, that I had always loved, but I only kept in touch with Julia as I had to look after my daughter.  That was a big mistake.  She had not realised we had a child.  She punched me hard in the mouth – which I guess I deserved – and went off to her room, wailing like a banshee.

 

I waited in the kitchen until she calmed down; but with what I already suspected about Marjorie and the attacks I knew I would have to move Julia and Ruth-Anne away for their own safety, and I began to make plans, keeping careful watch on your Momma in the meantime.  But business is business, and as she seemed to have settled down to her old self, I took a chance and went to Miami for a week; a real big deal which should set us all up for a long while.  When I got home, once again the pick-up was not there, and my heart sank as I drove off to the park, where she usually walked the dog.

 

As I parked up, I saw two women arguing, shouting,, arms waving, right near the little river, and Kennedy, the dog – you had some good times with him, boy – was running round in circles barking loudly as the two women fought.  He ran up to me as I hi-tailed it over to the stream – and saw the other woman was Julia.

 

I pulled them apart, pushed Marjorie away and grabbed Julia, pulling her kicking and screaming into my car; as I drove off, I saw Marjorie fall down.  May God forgive me, I didn’t stop to look, but made the long drive to Julia’s home, where I stayed until I got the call from you.

 

From what I was able to get out of Julia, who had retreated into her room as soon as she got home, she had had a call from Marjorie saying she was my wife, and needed to see her.  Poor Julia was always unstable; and right away she had made the long trip over there, meeting Marjorie by the stream as instructed.  No-one was surprised at her going off like this, she was often unpredictable. I later recovered her car from town, she had parked it up and followed instructions Marjorie had sent her on foot.

 

It was no surprise to me when the attacks stopped.  I was so very, very sorry that Marjorie had died, but you Adrian were almost grown, and I still had my business, so life went on.

 

I hope you won’t think too badly of your old man after all this, Adrian I don’t know what you will want to do with this information; you may decide to let sleeping dogs lie, and you may want to contact your sister; John Donnelly has instructions to give you her contact details if you ask. Tread carefully though if you do; I have told her nothing of all this, although she and her man Danny may by now have worked it out; he’s a clever fella.  It’s up to you boy.  I just hope you will not hate me for all this, just remember I love you and your little family.

 

 Yours, with love

Dad

 

 

 

 

Phewww…..I wasn’t expecting that – A crazy wife, a daughter – a sister! Murder, attacks – A MILLION DOLLAR BANK ACCOUNT – what the hell’s been going on here?   It can’t be true – my Dad was a regular guy – but here it was in his own words –  and what had he not told me? What was this business that paid so well? And did I really want to know?

 

The shock and the Bourbon had by now worked its magic on me and my head was going round and round.  I flopped down on the bed fully clothed, finished the bottle and slept deeply.

 

Next morning I was awake at 5, my head throbbing.  I made myself a coffee and went over it all again.  Should I go to the police with all this? It may go some way to solving a few crimes, but was there any real proof? It had all been thoroughly investigated at the time - what would be the gain in bringing it all up? I decided to visit John Donnelly as soon as his office opened, and see if he could fill me in on any more details.

 

By nine o’clock, I had showered, changed and was waiting on the attorney’s doorstep. I’d had some eggs and pancakes, I was surprisingly hungry, realising I had not really eaten for a couple of days.

 

‘Good morning Mr Kaufmann, I had a feeling I’d be seeing you again today.  Please sit down’.

 

‘Mr Donnelly, I have some questions about the contents of the package you gave me.’

 

‘Before you start, Mr Kaufmann, as I told you before, I know little about your Father’s affairs, but I get the impression that there is stuff in that letter that it may not be wise to share even with me. My part in this was merely to receive the package from another lawyer and

hand it to you, and this I have done.  I have no knowledge of the contents, but you may ask specific questions and I will answer if possible and appropriate’.

 

‘Do you know anything about murders?’

 

‘I do not’

 

‘What about my Father’s business?’

 

‘Sorry, nothing.’

 

‘And his second family?’

 

‘There I can help you.’

 

And he reached into his briefcase and produced a slip of paper.  

 

So here I am, back at the motel, drinking my Bourbon and wondering what to do with all this red-hot information.  I know I should have called my wife, but when I picked up my cellphone, I found I was dialling a new number.  The one on the paper – I was calling Ruth-Anne. My sister.