|Carruthers' Demise, Chapters Twenty Four & Twenty Five (standard:drama, 2248 words) [14/24] show all parts|
|Author: Brian Cross||Added: Mar 10 2012||Views/Reads: 1089/705||Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Carruthers discovers some unpleasant facts; continuation of my drama.|
Chapter Twenty Four Leaving Lyndhurst police station, Inspector Jack Manners hurried to his car, ducking out of the ceaseless rain that had attributed considerably to the gloom of his day. He sneezed; the damp weather was doing nothing to vanquish his hay fever affliction. Sinking back momentarily in his seat, he raised his eyes to the visor that had been redundant of late, and taking a deep breath uttered an expletive. Why did the powers that be choose to involve him in a case like this? A murdered publisher, and a disappearing best-selling novelist, who in all likelihood was responsible not only for his murder, but the vagrant Foulkes as well. Add to that a disagreeable literary agent in her husband, who even if he wasn't in collusion couldn't see the wood for the trees – and to top it all a country bumpkin of a sergeant who he'd been forced to cooperate with owing to the rural plod's dwindling resources. What made matters worse was he couldn't understand how people such as novelists made up stories and got well paid for doing it. He lived in the real world, dealt with real people in real locations – he wasn't locked away in some cosy study creating make-believe. Okay, in Carruthers' case he only represented writers but that was just as bad. They lined his pockets and he doubted that the man had to do too much to earn the cash. Manners engaged the engine, shook his head. They should try living in the real world, the lot of them. He hadn't the time for their nonsense. And yet, despite the touch of acid that this case brought to his throat, it wasn't all bad. There might yet be a silver lining locked away in their somewhere. If he could track the woman down quickly enough he'd have the result he badly needed to restore momentum to a stuttering career. Manners drove out of Hampshire contemplating that very point. There was no doubting his career had stalled. He'd had a good beginning – a sound education had stood him in good stead for his push to the top. And then, early on in his police career he'd met Jennie, a constabulary police officer, at a police charity ball. They'd hit it off, and it had helped that Jennie's father was a former superintendent with influence in the force. The combination of some good publicity on one hand and a word in the right place on the other, plus his own undoubted skills had propelled him to the rank of inspector in no time at all. And that was where it had started to go awry. Jennie being something of a publicist had a liking and tendency to be at the hub of things. That inclination had started to grate on him and it wasn't too long before he'd begun to dissociate himself from the various gatherings Jennie attended; not all, he thought, were professionally orientated. Before long the rift had developed sufficiently for them to part company; okay, it might have been pure coincidence but that had been the point at which his career had run out of steam. However, if he could nail this one quickly enough he might be able to gain a little upward momentum; particularly considering the social status of the individuals concerned. Because that was what he'd set his sights on the moment he'd joined the force. His banker father and lecturer mother had raised their eyebrows initially, but once he'd explained that plodding the beat featured nowhere in his aspirations, they'd capitulated to his reasoning. Now however, he was becoming increasingly frustrated with the standstill in his fortunes. It wasn't beyond the realms of possibility however, that this case, even with the literary theme he abhorred, might yet prove to be his saving grace. Chapter Twenty Five Carruthers wandered off into the rain, glad to be free of Manners' overbearing presence and having received his inevitable caution that the Inspector be advised of any movements he might make. Click here to read the rest of this story (200 more lines)
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