Sam: A Novel Of Suspense Read Online Free PDF Page A

largest
commercial entity in the world.  My husband, like his father, was one of the
wealthiest and most driven men in the history of our world.  Suicide to him was
the same as failure, and failure was never an option to my husband.”
    Angela’s
eyes widened.  “Your husband owned Black Remedy?  Well then there are many
reasons he may have felt guilty enough to take his own life.  That company has
been indicted for everything from child labour to illegal arms dealing.  I’ve
heard that the only reason they’re still even allowed to trade is because they
buy-off governments like most companies buy stationary.”
    “My
husband was trying to change all that.  His father was in charge of the company
until his death seven years ago.  Since then, Joseph was trying to clean up the
company’s ethics.  Black Remedy donated more than six-hundred million pounds to
charity in the last three years.  That’s more than the entire fifty-odd years that
preceded it combined.  My husband was a good man, and he loved his family.  He
would not have hung himself. There’s just no way.”
    “Okay,”
Angela said. “While I admit that the amount of accidents that you’ve had
recently is unfortunate, I don’t see what makes you believe you need an
exorcism performed?”
    “ This does.”  Jessica reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out a dog-eared
notebook.  It was small, about the size of an address book.  She slid it across
the table to Angela.  “Open it.”
    Angela
did as she was asked and was immediately shocked by the very first page she
turned to.  It was covered in the erratic scrawls of a child: crayoned pictures
and pencilled words co-mingling in a tapestry of graffiti.  The images featured
symbols she didn’t recognise and several depictions of winged beasts.  Most
disturbing, though, was what the words said.  Several short sentences mentioned
such disturbing things as: TAINtedsoUL, No eScape, He iSABYSS, SEekSAlvation.
HeLp ME. Eventually Angela’s eyes fell across something in the lower corner
of the page that chilled her bones to the marrow.  Written in neat, full
capitals, so that it stood out more than any other words, was the plea: BRING THE
PRIEST.  BRING ANGELA MURS.

CHAPTER FOUR
    After
one more glass of sixteen-year old whisky to calm her nerves, Angela had agreed
to stay at the house, at least until morning.  The notebook with her name
written in it could have been a fake designed to keep her there, but Angela couldn’t
know for sure.  Real or not, it had left Angela concerned.
    As
soon as she’d set eyes on the childish scrawls, an ominous wave of dread rattled
her bones. She knew deep down in her marrow that something strange was going
on, and for some reason it involved her.  Whether or not it was due to natural or unnatural means was yet to be determined.  She needed to know more.
    Frank
had come into the lounge at Jessica’s request and taken Angela up to the second
floor, where she’d been presented with a suite the size of a modest flat.  Then
he had left her alone to survey her new surroundings.  An ancient four-poster
bed occupied the centre of the room, its mahogany corner struts climbing from
floor to ceiling.  Opposite the foot of the bed was a large bay window looking
out into the velvet darkness of the night.  Angela imagined that outside there
would majestic, landscaped gardens matching the grandness of the house, but
right now they were invisible, cloaked in shadow.
    Above
the bed was a magnificent oil pattern that could literally have taken years to
complete.  It picture a heavenly battle, perhaps Lucifer’s war against God.  In
the foreground were two cherubim with gossamer wings outspread.  They wielded
spears, brother against brother.
    It
was clear that Jessica’s late husband had been one rich son-of-a-bitch, and it
was a surreal feeling to be sat in his family’s home. Angela wondered how
anyone so blessed could be so selfish to take their own