Cherringham--Snowblind (12 page)

“God. I don’t know, Reg,” said Craig, looking nervously at Jack.

“Don’t worry about him,” said Reg. “Ex-cop. Yank. Loser.”

Sarah looked at Jack. What was happening? Then—

“What in heaven’s name is going on in here?”

Sarah turned — it seemed everyone turned — to see Shirley Woods striding across the kitchen towards them.

“Smoking! Drinking! Craig — I want you in my office right now! And Reg, time you were back in your bed, my dear. Meanwhile, you two had better explain just—”

Sarah saw Shirley suddenly stop in her tracks, her mouth open wide — and for the second time that night everything happened fast.

She looked to her side — and Reg had pulled a butcher’s knife from a block by the cooker and was backing over to join Craig.

“Reg?” said Shirley. “That’s a very sharp knife, my dear …”

She took a few steps away, instinctively. She saw Jack do the same.

“Whoa, Reg,” said Jack. “Sure you want to do that?”

“Get the damn car warmed up,” said Reg to Craig.

Sarah could see that Craig was just as stunned as she was.

“Bright lights, big city, Craig …” said Reg, lifting Craig to his feet. “Move it. Back the car up here to the door.”

Reg slipped the catch of the back door and pushed the young carer out into the darkness.

“Reg Povey, put that knife down right now—” said Shirley Woods.

“Sorry, Sister, no can do,” said Reg, moving the knife in an arc which seemed to threaten all of them. “Now put your phones on the table, please.”

“Jack?” said Sarah.

She saw Jack shake his head to her and then reach into his pocket and put his phone on the table. She followed suit. Next to her, Shirley Woods did the same.

Through the kitchen windows Sarah saw the lights of Craig’s car as it backed up through the thick snow into the courtyard.

“It’s been special,” said Reg, slipping the phones into his pocket. “One thing though, Sister — the food here’s worse than prison and that takes some doing, I can tell ya.”

Sarah watched as he backed out through the door. She heard the car door slam, then the Subaru slid away through the snow and was gone.

She turned to Jack:

“What are we waiting for?” she said. “Let’s go after them!”

“All in good time,” said Jack, folding his nightstick away calmly. “Sister Woods — can we borrow your car?”

“On one condition,” she said. “You come straight back here and you tell me just what the hell is going on and what happened to my patient.”

“Deal,” said Jack politely.

“It’s the Corolla out front,” she said, handing Jack the keys. “Don’t wreck it, and put some petrol in it too while you’re at it.”

“Why, thank you ma’am,” said Jack, heading for the door. “Sarah?”

And Sarah followed him out into the courtyard.

This had to be the slowest car chase she’d ever been in.

Come to think of it,
she thought,
it’s also the first …

Jack steered the Corolla carefully down the High Street.

It had stopped snowing but there was still a good foot of snow lying on the road. The village was quiet — people staying at home, he guessed, waiting for the big thaw which was due tomorrow.

“Takes me back, driving this,” he said to Sarah. “Katherine used to have one back in New York.”

“Oh really?” said Sarah. “I guess in the Sprite we could go a bit faster, maybe catch them up?”

Jack smiled to himself.

“Oh, we won’t need to catch them up,” he said.

He looked out of the side window at the Ploughman’s as they went past. The lights were on. Nothing kept the regulars away, not even a dark and snowy night.

“We don’t?” said Sarah. “But if they get to London, the police will never find them.”

Jack slowed as they crossed the old bridge. At this time of night the toll booth was closed but the road narrowed and he needed to be careful as they slipped through.

“’Fraid they’re not going to get to London,” said Jack, as they rounded the first of the two sharp curves in the road.

“You sure?”

“I am now,” he said, reaching forward to put the hazard lights on and pulling in to the side of the road. “Look.”

He pointed out of Sarah’s side window and she wound down the window so they could see clearly.

“Yikes!” she said.

“Wow,” he said. “Craig was going even faster than I expected.”

In the beam from the headlights, he could see the Subaru’s wheel tracks deep in the snow. The tracks crossed the ditch at the side of the road, went straight through a hole in the thick hedge and right the way up to the edge of the little stream that crossed the meadow.

They ended in the black shape of the Subaru, upside down in the snow, lights still on, the roof crushed.

“You think they’re okay?” said Sarah, rushing to open the door.

“Unfortunately, yes,” said Jack, climbing out to join her. “Air bags will have done their job.”

“Now I see why you took your time,” said Sarah.

“Knowing Craig and knowing this corner?” said Jack, “It was a no-brainer.”

“We going down to get them out?”

“You kidding?” said Jack. “After what he called me? Loser? Yank? No, we’ll flag down a car, phone for help. Let ’em stew.”

“You must have been called worse than that, Jack.”

“Plenty of times,” he said. “But you know what really hurt? Ex-cop. That — was below the belt.”

And he stepped into the road to flag down an approaching car from the village.

Sarah watched Odelia blow out the candles on her birthday cake, then all the residents cheered.

She looked around at the happy faces — so different from when she and Jack had last been in the home.

The residents were gathered round the big dining table with party hats on, there was music playing and the food smelled delicious.

At least a dozen nurses and carers were involved and joining in the party. She could see Ania, face happy, joining in a group singing in the corner.

“Ninety-three today!” said Beth, giving her grandmother a kiss.

“Just seven more till your telegram from the Queen,” said Sarah.

She watched Jack raise his cup of tea: “Here’s to you Odelia, and thanks for your help when we needed it.”

“You want any more help with crime-busting, just give me a call, Jack,” said Odelia.

“Oh yeah?” said Jack. “As it happens … we might have an undercover job coming up, I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“You’ve been watching too much
24
, Gran,” said Beth.

“Heck, we couldn’t have cracked it without her,” said Jack.

“And I am glad that you did,” said Shirley Woods, joining them at the table. “It certainly put a rocket up the management here.”

“Funny what a little bad publicity can do to a good investment,” said Sarah.

Shirley moved in confidentially to Sarah: “I still feel guilty that I didn’t know how bad things were. It was on my watch.”

Sarah saw Jack lean over: “You were in an impossible position Shirley and it wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have seen what Craig was doing with the drugs — and the nurses …”

“Forget Craig,” said Jack. “As well as the drugs charges, he’s on conspiracy to murder — he won’t be back.”

“So he helped kill Archy?” said Shirley.

“He bought the thermals so Reg could lead Archy into the woods,” said Jack.

“You think we should have been more suspicious at the beginning, Jack?” said Sarah.

She watched him consider this.

“I guess we all might have been. If we did make a mistake it was to assume that just because Reg was old and frail he was an innocent victim.”

“It gives me the chills to think he’d murdered before,” said Shirley.

“Don’t forget — so had Archy,” said Jack. “Alan Rivers told me he had three, maybe four alleged murders back on his file.”

Sarah looked around the room at the other twenty or so residents.

“It’s easy to forget that they’re all just … people. No different from people everywhere. Just older.”

“Too right,” said Shirley. “And now that nice Mr. Leacock has doubled the staff budget, I do believe we can treat them like that.”

Sarah lifted her cup of tea in a mock toast: “To Hearthstone Investments, Jack?”

He shook his head, raising his cup too. “No — to Ania and the staff — and a new start.”

And as Sarah raised her cup of tea, she thought how much her time with Jack had been a new start for her too.

END

When Cherringham Drama Society invite a local TV celebrity to direct their Christmas show, they get more publicity than they bargained for. Someone's out to sabotage the event, and rehearsals spin into chaos. Jack and Sarah are asked to investigate and soon discover that there's a darker mystery taking place behind the scenes …

Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series
Playing Dead
by Matthew Costello and Neil Richards

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