Carruthers' Demise, Chapters Twenty Two & Twenty Three (standard:drama, 2634 words) [13/24] show all parts
Author: Brian Cross	Added: Mar 09 2012	Views/Reads: 2455/1760	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Another murder has been committed, and if Chelsey Carruthers is main suspect, then her husband Martin is being regarded as an accessory.

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delivered him a high voltage shock. 

Body Found In Forest – Carruthers stared in horror as he took in the
heart-wrenching possibility that it might be his wife, before hurrying 
into the shop and snatching a paper from the stand. 

A man's body, believed to be that of a local vagrant was found yesterday
evening in undergrowth close to Ornamental Drive in the New Forest. 

Carruthers first experienced a flood of relief that it wasn't Chelsey,
but as realisation dawned that the body might be Foulkes', the 
implications began to gnaw at his mind. 

First and foremost, if the body were to be that of Foulkes then his
first point of contact was eliminated, but before his mind had a chance 
to lead on from there Carruthers forced it away, vowing to keep his 
senses sharp. It did no good to dwell on what might or might not be. 

Manners was leaving his car as Carruthers reached the police station
forecourt. The Inspector halted on seeing him and adjusting his black 
raincoat, flicked his eyes to the heavens. ‘Hardly the best of days in 
more ways than one; thank you for joining me,' and before Carruthers 
could deliver a terse reply – ‘I'll be with you as soon as I've 
consulted my counterparts. Meanwhile if you'll wait in the foyer...' 
Manners stepped through the entrance ahead of Carruthers, indicated a 
row of bench seats and after a word with the desk clerk was ushered 
inside the secure area. 

Typical of Manners, Carruthers thought, no mention of why he'd been
summoned here though thanks to the newsagents he had a pretty good 
idea. 

As it happened he'd over thirty minutes to wait before Sergeant
Higginbotham raised the security catch and beckoned him through. He was 
led into the same office where the Sergeant had interviewed him, and 
where Manners now sat in a chair alongside the desk. 

Manners, his forearms on the side of Higginbotham's desk, his fingers
interlocked, nodded for Carruthers to take a seat. ‘There has been an 
unfortunate development Mr Carruthers, which could conceivably be 
linked to Mr Goldhawk's murder.' 

‘You mean you've found another body,' Carruthers said, his tone curt.
‘Why beat about the bush?' and then sighing, ‘I know, I've read the 
newspaper.' 

‘Precisely.' Manners fixed him with a cold stare. ‘The dead man was a
vagrant called Foulkes. I gather you've had dealings with him.' 

Carruthers nodded, sat hunched; this confirmed his worst suspicions. ‘He
was the one we first saw on the forest – Chelsey thought he'd followed 
us – that he'd been watching her.' 

‘Indeed,' Manners cut in, throwing a glance at Higginbotham. ‘Foulkes'
death could be mere coincidence, but we could suppose that whoever 
murdered him had knowledge of him seeing your wife getting into the 
car, and thus eliminated a lead.' 

‘So Foulkes was murdered?' 

‘I said, we could suppose, Mr. Carruthers,' Manners said flatly. ‘The
cause of death has yet to be established.' 

Higginbotham leaned onto his desk. ‘It has to be said,' he interjected,
‘that Foulkes was known to us and surrounded by petty crooks – any of 
whom might have held a grudge against him.' 

Carruthers looked to Manners, narrowed his eyes. ‘Nonetheless you
obviously suspect a connection or you wouldn't be here.' 

Manners nodded. ‘And I wouldn't have requested your presence – since you
appear to have connections with both of the deceased...' 

‘I had no reason to want Foulkes dead – he was my only lead, so if
you're inferring...' 

‘Please calm yourself, Mr Carruthers.' Manners raised a hand, paused.
‘Can you tell us about your wife's state of mind the afternoon you 
encountered Foulkes – allowing for her temperament, did she appear 
unusually distressed?' 

Carruthers sighed, rubbed a hand across his face. ‘She objected to
Foulkes, she found him obnoxious – she did get heated with him but 
apart from that Chelsey was her normal self.' 

‘Or as normal as she could be,' Manners said quietly, his eyes fixed on
a folder lying on Higginbotham's desk. 

‘Just what do you mean by that?' 

Manners reached for the folder. ‘I have to tell you, Mr. Carruthers,
that we found fragments of what appear to be pages from Mrs Carruthers' 
diary in Mr Goldhawk's pockets.' He delved into the file, took out a 
couple of sheets. ‘These are of course copies, but would you kindly 
verify that this is your wife's handwriting? As you'll note they appear 
to make references to sexual advances made against her. She seemed 
somewhat angry.' 

‘Wouldn't you be?' Carruthers felt the heat building, he felt sweat
trickle down his neck. Flinging the copies back at Manners, he said, ‘I 
can see where you're leading – why the hell would Chelsey want to 
thrust parts of her diary, no matter how angry she might be, into his 
pocket. I can't hold with that. I'm not sitting here...' 

‘Please sit down, Mr Carruthers.' 

Carruthers had got up to leave but Manners response carried the weight
of command rather than request. ‘You don't understand. You have to 
appreciate the psychological motives of the suspect. Your wife was so 
enraged with Goldhawk that she simply ripped the relevant parts from 
her diary and stuffed them into his pocket. In her mind Goldhawk was 
going to his death with her feelings and reasons for doing what she did 
embedded in his clothing. She wouldn't have known that the river's 
swell would dump him on the towpath before the Thames had had a chance 
to consume both him and the diary parts.' 

‘But Chelsey had the diary with her, at the hotel!' Carruthers yelled. 

Manners looked long and hard. ‘So you say, Mr. Carruthers, so do you
know more about this than you're admitting to? It would seem, that 
given the probability that your wife left the area in a car driven by 
another, that she had an accomplice. 

‘You see now, why I cannot exclude you from my suspicions? 

Chapter Twenty Three 

Carruthers sank his head into his hands and shook it. ‘I don't care what
you've found on Goldhawk's body, Chelsey had nothing to do with his 
death and neither did I.' 

Manners sniffed. ‘Right now, Mr Carruthers, I'm having difficulty
agreeing with you. Such evidence as we have...' Manners broke off as 
the phone rang. Higginbotham took the call, frowned. ‘Confirmed you 
say? Right, thanks, Jess.' 

He turned to Manners, no words being exchanged but the Inspector's nod
of the head told Carruthers they weren't needed. 

‘I suggest we visit the latest murder scene,' Manners said, rising
quickly to his feet. He regarded Carruthers through narrowing eyes. 
‘Yes, we have another one. I'd be obliged if you'd accompany us.' 

‘Do I have any choice?' Carruthers asked curtly. 

Manners shrugged. ‘You're a free man for the time being.' 

Carruthers pulled on his raincoat, let the Inspector's comment ride.
‘Might I ask why you request my company?' 

‘It certainly isn't companionship, Mr. Carruthers.' Manners slipped on
his own coat, perhaps there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as 
he added, ‘I don't think we'd quite hit it off, do you? No, the reason 
I've asked you along,' Manners continued as Higginbotham slipped into 
the driver's seat, on what was a wet and squally afternoon, ‘is that 
you might conceivably see or remember something that might jog your 
memory. It happens.' 

The Inspector turned away, looking out onto a wild afternoon and then
glanced sharply back at him. ‘Run through again, if you wouldn't mind, 
the events of the afternoon your wife vanished. I want to get things 
clear in my mind.' 

Carruthers sighed, and like Manners ran his eyes over the bleak
exterior. By the time he'd given his pained account of a cycle ride he 
wished had never taken place, Higginbotham had driven into Ornamental 
Drive, parking in the same area he'd used when accompanied by Casey, 
and next to a couple of police vehicles. 

He was further surprised when Higginbotham led them along the same trail
he'd taken with Chelsey that afternoon, passing through the smaller 
enclosed area and then out to the clearing where he'd arranged to meet 
Foulkes. 

Higginbotham stopped, nodded to the undergrowth from whence came
rustling sounds, and white clad figures similar to those he'd found in 
Chiswick emerged from a narrow track. After a brief exchange with them, 
Manners and Higginbotham came back towards him. 

‘The body was found there,' Carruthers said flatly. 

Manners raised his brows, lofted his head. ‘You don't seem surprised.' 

‘No – I thought it was strange.' 

‘Say again?' 

I didn't for one moment think Chelsey had anything to do with Goldhawk's
death. I only wanted to find her, so I tracked Foulkes down. He said 
he'd seen her with somebody at the spot where she disappeared and I 
believed him – after all, Chelsey had been adamant Foulkes had been 
watching her. But he asked for cash and I had to leave the area to get 
it. I arranged to meet him back here, but when I got back after half an 
hour or so there was no sign of him.' 

Crevices appeared on Manners' brow. ‘Why on earth didn't you tell me
this?' 

Carruthers shrugged. ‘I'd been meaning to but I was so dumbfounded about
the diary it took my mind clean away.' 

Manners minced his lips, nodded. ‘Exactly where did you arrange to meet
him?' 

‘As I say, right here in the clearing. May I ask what was the cause of
his death?' 

Manners afforded Carruthers a stony stare, as if he thought he already
knew the answer to the question. ‘Indentations were found around the 
neck of the victim, inflicted it seems by a physically powerful person, 
or indeed, someone with a great deal of anger to discharge. 

‘Can you think of anybody who might have been involved in Mr Foulkes'
death?' 

‘I...' Carruthers started then stopped abruptly, shaking his head.
Casey's silhouette had flashed before him; the sophisticated Casey 
Jennings who'd so recently called him her best pal, who'd apparently 
had a much closer connection with Goldhawk than she'd disclosed – who'd 
accompanied him to the Forest in his search for Foulkes, and when he'd 
returned to the car park been nowhere to be seen. And then the long, 
unexplained scratch marks he'd seen on her neck that day – and she had 
strong hands, he knew that for a fact... 

‘Mr Carruthers, if you're holding anything back I'm advising you to
reveal it...' While Carruthers had been lost in his inner musings 
Manners had been watching him intently. ‘I hardly need to remind you 
that your own position is somewhat precarious.' 

‘No, there's nothing.' Carruthers forced his hands into his raincoat
pockets, hunched it around him. He couldn't seriously put Casey forward 
as a suspect, and yet... 

‘Very well, if you're certain.' But Manners was eyeing him sideways on,
with that cold look. ‘I take it nothing further has triggered your 
mind?' 

‘No, nothing,' Carruthers answered grimly. 

‘Because it strikes me, that if what you say is true and the time of
death is found to be approximate to your discussion with him, then 
somebody quite likely had Foulkes under observation and conceivably 
murdered him to eliminate a lead. And I suggest, Mr Carruthers, that 
that person was either your wife or an accomplice.' 

‘Rubbish!' Carruthers yelled, rain driven into his mouth by the gusting
wind making him cough. ‘I've told you, whoever's behind this it can't 
be Chelsey.' 

‘Can't, Mr Carruthers?' Manners raised his head in his annoying way,
leaning sideways in his chair, his fingers tapping its arms. ‘And how 
do you deduce that?' 

Carruthers lowered his gaze, there was no logical way that he could – he
simply believed it to be the case. ‘I'll find her. I'll prove it.' 

Manners met Carruthers' eyes when he finally looked up. ‘You would be
best advised to leave matters in our hands. We have issued a warrant 
for Mrs Carruthers' arrest. All possible leads will be followed up.' 

‘You're making a mistake,' Carruthers said bitterly, still coughing
rainwater from his lungs. 

‘There is precious little evidence of that,' Manners said dismissively,
‘but I'll grant you one thing. You're apparent conviction of her 
innocence is in itself, convincing.' 

‘Because I know she couldn't carry this out.' Carruthers strode away.
‘I'll find my own way back.' 


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