Carruthers' Demise, Chapters Twenty Eight & Twenty Nine (standard:drama, 2366 words) [16/24] show all parts
Author: Brian Cross	Added: May 29 2012	Views/Reads: 2169/1632	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Martin Carruthers' wife has disappeared, and now is prime murder suspect. Continuation of my drama.

Chapter Twenty Eight 

‘Well I hope I've given him something to think about,' Casey said,
crouching beside the pond in the hotel garden, thumb and forefinger 
caressing a blade of grass. 

‘Given who something to think about?' Carruthers stubbed out his
cigarette, flicked it into the container provided. 

‘That sergeant – Sidebottom.' 

‘Higginbotham...' 

‘Higginbotham then.' Casey snorted. ‘Honestly Marty, we were only
speaking about it a moment ago – you're in a world of your own, there's 
a murderer too close for comfort and you're obsessed with this bloke 
Noades...' she got to her feet, straightened her blouse. ‘I wish you'd 
listen to me, Marty, initially I thought the same as you, but now I 
think we need to look again.' 

‘No, no, no.' Carruthers waved her suggestion away, hushed his voice,
there was a cream tea assembly at one of the tables fringing the pond 
and he saw heads turn. ‘I'm not going over that again.' 

Casey swung round, gave the group one of her icy stares and it seemed to
do the trick. Satisfied, she fronted him again. ‘So where do you go 
from here, if you've no leads, and what do I do if the police won't see 
sense?' 

Carruthers leaned against the hotel wall, thrust his hands into his
trouser pockets and tilted his head towards the cloudless sky. He 
sighed. ‘Adrian phoned yesterday, unusually civil for him I must say. 
He actually apologised for being no help and suggested we meet up. Two 
heads are better than one – that's what he said.' He met Casey's eyes, 
minced his lips. ‘I don't know what good it'll do but anything that 
helps find her I'm bound to take up. You might as well join me, 
pointless going back there if you are being watched.' 

‘I guess there isn't. I'd feel tense and uncomfortable, certainly unable
to write. I might as well see this thing through to the end.' 

Carruthers managed a grin. ‘You certainly look far from that right now.'
He wiped his brow, the afternoon was becoming humid once more. 

‘Fancy a drink, something cool?' 

Casey smiled, slapped him hard on the shoulder. ‘Thought you'd never ask
– looks can be deceiving - all this heavy stuff's weighing me down...' 

‘Yeah, well it's not going away any time soon, I'm afraid.' Carruthers
led her through the rear of the hotel, along the plush red-carpeted 
corridor and into the bar. Casey ordered a Smirnoff while he asked for 
a lager. They took a seat by the window, looked down on the traffic 
below. 

He leaned forward, hand caressing the glass. ‘Oh I know I'm reaching the
point where remaining here would be futile; I guess Adrian, strange as 
it may seem, is my last hope. His eyes widened, engaging Casey's. ‘I 
can't understand how the key could have gone. Nobody knew it was there 
apart from Chelsey and I, and the garage is protected by combination 
lock. I keep telling myself that if she has been back there, then 
there's precious little point in being here anyway.' 

Carruthers' mobile rang; he clutched it to his ear. ‘Ah – Adrian –
what's that? You're here now? Well I'm in the Chequers, Casey's with me 
- Casey Jennings. Say, why don't you join us? 

‘Oh I see, well I suppose we could – I'll ask her.' Carruthers cupped a
hand around the phone, leaned across to Casey. ‘Adrian's asked us to 
join him on the |Forest; I asked him here but apparently he has an 
engagement this evening...' 

Casey shook her head, raised her glass to her lips and then seemed to
reconsider. ‘Okay, if you think you'd like a bit of civilized company.' 



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