|Carruthers' Demise, Chapters Twenty & Twenty One (standard:drama, 2788 words) [11/24] show all parts|
|Author: Brian Cross||Added: Jan 05 2012||Views/Reads: 1211/945||Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Carruthers is finding out that Casey Jennings is not quite the person he thought she was. Continuation of my drama.|
Chapter Twenty Carruthers rejected the idea of calling Adrian's home number, of late it had gone unanswered, and phoning his mobile instead, he was greeted by an unusually breathless voice. ‘I take it this isn't a convenient time?' Carruthers enquired, perplexed. ‘Not particularly.' He heard Adrian take a deep breath. ‘Been doing a spot of jogging, have you any news?' ‘Something you're not going to like,' Carruthers said grimly. ‘I trust you're not bearing bad news about Chelsey?' Adrian asked, his voice on a downward curve. ‘No, there's no word.' Carruthers bit his lip. ‘But they're not ruling out Chelsey's involvement in Goldhawk's death – or mine either for that matter.' ‘What the hell have you said to make them suspect her?' Adrian demanded angrily. ‘Nothing – nothing at all.' Carruthers stiffened; he'd been expecting an accusation of some kind from the arrogant son of a bitch. ‘Well you must have said something. They should be concerned for her safety, not treating her as if...' ‘Look just let me finish...' Carruthers shouted over him, finally losing his cool with Chelsey's brother. ‘They've got grounds for suspicion – that's what the Inspector says – I don't know what they are, they won't tell me.' ‘To be brutally honest, I can imagine them suspecting you, Carruthers, but Chelsey? The thought of that makes my blood boil.' Carruthers swallowed his resentment, took a deep breath; the spectre of Noades raised its head, he thought about revealing his own suspicions to Adrian but the atmosphere was sour enough already, and besides, Adrian's superior voice began to grind into his ears once more. ‘Well, if there's nothing else I need a shower, it's jolly hot and I'm sweating like a pig – but don't you go running down Chelsey – I'll hold it against you if you do.' Carruthers ignored the warning but took pleasure in his final remark: ‘Oh – and by the way, you can expect a visit from the police, too. I've been asked to compile a list of family friends and acquaintances.' Carruthers slammed down the phone, how good it felt to be having the last word. It didn't feel good to be home though, particularly without Chelsey to share it with, but he'd been strongly advised to remain in the area – thus he'd adhere to it, at least for the night. In the longer term though, he had unfinished business in the New Forest. Rather than sit around anxiously clicking his fingers, Carruthers elected to pay Casey a visit – her Ealing Common home being just a few miles from his. If he couldn't run his thoughts through Adrian – and that wouldn't have been wise anyway – Casey would listen, he was sure of that. Listening to his car radio on the journey across to Casey's house, the hourly news report carried an account of Goldhawk's murder – ‘the police are conducting urgent enquiries,' the report said, though there was no mention of any suspects and Carruthers was thankful for that; for the moment at least, he and Chelsey went unmentioned by the press. It took Carruthers only fifteen minutes to reach Casey's house on the northern fringe of the Common; the white-washed three storey town house stood neat and bright in the evening sunlight. Carruthers pulled into Casey's driveway and parked behind her car, upon alighting becoming aware of her rich voice which sounded as if it came Click here to read the rest of this story (291 more lines)
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