by John Holt
“He didn’t mean anything, it was just a story,” said Mollie. “You heard what the others said. Take no notice of him. He’s an idiot. You heard them.”
Kendall shrugged. “Yes I heard them,” he replied. “A bit mean of them I thought.”
“Yes it was,” agreed Mollie. “But all they were saying is don’t take him seriously.”
“Nothing more than a storyteller, is that it,” Kendall replied.
“That’s right, just a storyteller,” said Mollie. “There’s always one, that’s what Anthony Mallory said, remember?”
Kendall nodded. “Yes he did say that, it’s an Irish tradition, the storyteller.”
“There you are then,” said Mollie. “Nothing more, simple as that.”
“But is it as simple as that, really?” Kendall asked. “Certainly he was telling a story, there’s no question of that, but why that particular story? And why now? And the thing is, it wasn’t just the ramblings of a drunken old man.”
“What do you mean?” asked Mollie.
“I mean it wasn’t just a story, it was true,” Kendall started to explain. “I checked it out at the local library here in Killmacud. It’s all there on the internet, I just did a Google search.”
“You did a search?” said Mollie, surprised. “On the computer?”
Kendall smiled. “Yes I did,” he replied. “I admit that I had a little help from the library assistant, though.”
“A little help?”
“Okay, so the young lady did it all for me, no big deal,” Kendall admitted. “The point is that on May 23rd 1942, a German sailor, by the name of Helmut Mueller, was washed ashore, right here in Killmacud, after his U boat, U-224, had been sunk by a British destroyer. They had just left an agent further up the coast, but were caught on the return trip. Anyway, Helmut was the only survivor, out of a total of fifty-two crew members. He was picked up at Carrick Cove, barely alive. An ambulance was called, and he was taken to Cork Hospital, under heavy guard. He finished the war in an internment camp in Belfast. He survived and went home to Bremen in July 1946.”
“I’m impressed,” said Mollie. “But how on earth did Mulligan know all of that?”
Kendall had no idea, and shook his head. “And now the poor old man is dead,” he said.
“So is that just a co-incidence?” Mollie asked.
Kendall looked at Mollie and smiled. “You know what I think of co-incidence don’t you?”
Mollie knew exactly what Kendall thought of co-incidence. “So what are you saying then?” she asked.
“Mulligan didn’t die as a result of an accident, that’s what I’m saying,” Kendall replied.
“You said something similar last night didn’t you,” Mollie said. “You think he was murdered don’t you?”
Kendall nodded. “Yes I do.”
“But you still haven’t said why.”
“I’m guessing, but I think it was because he saw something, or because of something he said.”
“What he said?” said Mollie. “About what?”
“That German sailor, of course,” replied Kendall. “Washed up on the beach like that.”
“But he couldn’t have seen that German sailor could he?” said Mollie.
“Certainly he never actually saw that German sailor, he would have been far too young,” replied Kendall. “But I think when Mulligan heard about the body on the beach he somehow associated it with that sailor.”
Mollie shook her head, and started to smile. “Ah, come on, you can’t possibly believe that. He liked his drink, but he wasn’t, well you know what I mean.”
Kendall remained silent for a moment. Did he really believe it? Truly believe it, or was he trying to make something out of a fantasy story told by the town drunk. Was Mulligan really able to put two and two together like that?
“Maybe, maybe not, I don’t know,” Kendall replied. “But I do believe that he was trying to tell us something, by somehow linking the two events.”
“Tell us what?” asked Mollie.
I don’t know that either. I haven’t worked it out yet,” replied Kendall. “Perhaps he had seen Nadir somewhere, or maybe it was just that there were some similarities with the story of the German sailor.”
“Perhaps it was just a way of getting free drinks,” suggested Mollie.
Kendall had to admit that he hadn’t thought of that, but it was certainly a good point. Mulligan had managed to get a good few free drinks out of him the day that they arrived, and on what had proved to be his last night alive. Kendall nodded his head and smiled. “Maybe, but I really think it was more than that,” he said. “He may not have realised what he was saying, but he said that it was the same as before. Why did he say that?”
“But it wasn’t the same, was it?” said Mollie. “The Turkish man hadn’t been washed ashore had he?”
“No he hadn’t, but he still came in from the sea, and he still ended up lying on the beach, just like that German sailor,” Kendall continued. “I think that maybe Mulligan saw the body lying on the beach, and he immediately thought of the other body on the beach, the previous one.”
“The German sailor, you mean,” said Mollie.
“Precisely, but I think there was something else,” said Kendall. “Something far more important.”
“What?” asked Mollie.
“I believe that our friend Mulligan saw the actual murder,” Kendall continued. “I’m certain that he saw someone actually strike the blow.”
“So why didn’t he say something before?” asked Mollie.
“Simple,” Kendall replied. “Because he never realised what it was that he had seen. In his mind it was just that German sailor, nothing more.”
“Nonetheless, the murderer had to silence him, is that what you’re suggesting?” said Mollie.
Kendall nodded. “That’s the way I see it,” he replied. “The sad thing is that I believe that Mulligan really didn’t know anything. At least he probably wasn’t aware of knowing anything. But there was someone watching him, someone in the bar that night. And that someone came to the same conclusion as me.”
“And it was that someone who killed him,” said Mollie.
“Seems that way to me,” said Kendall. “The thing is that although Mulligan may have seen the murderer, sadly it’s unlikely that he realised what was happening that day, on the beach. It just didn’t register with him.”
“How do you know that?” asked Mollie.
“Think about it for a second,” said Kendall. “If he had really known what was going on he would have mentioned it wouldn’t he? He would have bragged about it all over the place. It would have been a major conversation piece, and great for getting free drinks, as you suggested earlier.”
“Guess you’re right,” agreed Mollie.
“I know I’m right,” said Kendall, trying not to sound smug, but failing.
“Even if he did, no one would have believed him anyway,” said Mollie.
“That’s right,” replied Kendall. “It would have just been another story, a bit of entertainment, and maybe cause a few laughs.”
“So instead he kept on about the sailor,” said Mollie.
“Yes, that wretched German. He went on and on about him,” said Kendal. “Just another story, but clearly the murderer thought that maybe, just maybe, there was something more to it. Maybe Mulligan had seen something, and maybe someone would actually listen to what he was saying, and put two and two together.”
“And you think that whoever killed Mulligan is the same person that killed the Turkish man,” said Mollie.
Kendall nodded. “That’s the way I see it,” he replied.
“So it couldn’t have been Brian Charters then,” said Mollie.
“No it certainly wasn’t Charters because at the time he was safely locked up in prison,” said Kendall. “Besides, I don’t believe that he murdered Mr. Nadir anyway.”
“So all we have to do is find out who did,” said Mollie.
“Also corr
ect,” replied Kendall. He paused for a few moments. “So what do we have?” he asked.
Mollie looked at Kendall and smiled. “You tell me.”
“Well, firstly, we know that Nadir was brought to shore by a boat of some sort, right?” Kendall replied holding up one finger. “So what does that tell you?”
“Well, I guess it could mean our friends, the two fishermen might be involved in some way,” suggested Mollie. “You know O’Rourke’s friends.”
Kendall nodded. “I know who you mean,” he replied. “It’s certain possible.”
“What about the other guy with a boat?” asked Mollie.
Kendall nodded. “Derren Lynch?” he replied. “Yes it could have been him.”
Mollie suddenly shook her head. “No, no. This is all nonsense,” she announced. “How many people have boats around here do you think?”
Kendall said nothing, but merely smiled.
“Dozens in fact, hundreds maybe,” Mollie continued. “It could have been anyone of them.”
Kendall nodded. “You’re right, I guess it could have been,” he agreed. “But I’m guessing that it was someone local. Someone who knew that cove. So that narrows the number of possible suspects down.”
“But why do you think it was someone local?” Mollie asked.
“Nadir’s murder didn’t just happen,” Kendall started to explain. “It was meticulously planned, to the minute, and it had to be carried out at that exact spot, Carrick Cove. In that way the murderer was able to incriminate Charters.”
“So whoever it was knew Charters,” said Mollie.
“Correct,” said Kendall.
Mollie nodded. “Okay, I understand that,” she replied. “But that still leaves a lot of possible suspects.”
“Yes it does,” agreed Kendall. “But if we now factor in Mulligan’s death, we can reduce that number even further.”
“Go on,” coaxed Mollie.
“I’m guessing that whoever brought Nadir into shore that night and killed him, was also in the bar on Mulligan’s last night,” Kendall replied. “They heard Mulligan going on about the body on the beach, and decided that he had to be silenced. Does that sound reasonable?”
Mollie said nothing for a while. “Maybe, but I do have a slight problem.”
Kendall heaved a loud sigh. “Go on, let’s hear it.”
“Well it just seems a little strange to me,” Mollie started to explain. “Nadir was murdered what, three months ago?”
Kendall nodded. “So?”
“So why kill Mulligan now? Why not three months ago?”
“That’s a fair question,” agreed Kendall. “Probably because it’s only now, now that we are here, and I’m asking a lot of questions, that Mulligan is, perhaps, being a bit too talkative.”
“Going on about his German sailor,” suggested Mollie.
“We’re strangers here, and Mulligan is trying out his storytelling on us,” Kendall continued. “He was probably totally ignored before, and made fun of. Maybe we would take more notice of the ravings of a drunk, especially me being a detective, and not knowing anything about Mulligan. At least that’s what might have gone through the murderer’s mind.”
Mollie nodded. “Could be,” she agreed. “So now what?”
“Well, let’s go back to that last night at O’Rourke’s,” said Kendall. “Think, who was there in that room that night?”
“Well there was the English guy, Mallory,” said Mollie.
“That’s right,” said Kendall. “And of course there was O’Rourke. Who else?”
“The two fishermen,” suggested Mollie.
Kendall shook his head. “No I ‘m sure that they had already left long before Mulligan was telling his story.”
“So that puts them in the clear then,” said Mollie.
Kendall shook his head. “Not necessarily,” he replied. “They could have been waiting for him to leave, and then struck.”
“Mulvy was there, and so was Quinn,” said Mollie. “In fact he left shortly after Mulligan went out, remember.”
“Yes, and our Mr. Derren Lynch, followed not long afterwards,” added Kendall.
“And don’t forget about O’Rourke,” said Mollie.
“That’s right,” said Kendall. “He had some business to attend to didn’t he?”
“Very odd,” Mollie said. “He said he had to make a phone call. Who to, I wonder.”
“Maybe to tell someone that Mulligan had left the bar,” suggested Kendall. “You know, some kind of a signal to …..”
Mollie shook her head. “You don’t really think O’Rourke is involved do you?”
Kendall took a deep breath. “All I know is that someone killed Mulligan. Of that I am absolutely certain,” he replied. “I not sure who it was, but I’m not ruling out O’Rourke.”
“So where do we go from here?” asked Mollie.
“The boat, I think,” said Kendall.
“The boat that brought Nadir ashore that evening, you mean?” said Mollie.
“That’s right,” agreed Kendall. “So we certainly need to speak to the two fishermen, or whatever they are, and Mr. Lynch. We need to ask them where they were on the night of the first murder,” He paused for a moment, and then nodded. “So tomorrow we are going for a little trip to Kinsale.”
“And how will we get there?” Mollie asked.
“I’ll hire a car, of course,” Kendall replied.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kinsale
The journey from Killmacud had been uneventful, although it had taken a lot longer than it should have, with a few wrong turns, and several near misses for Kendall to get used to driving on the “wrong side of the road.” Mallory had offered to drive them, but Kendall wouldn’t hear of it.
“It’s no trouble,” Mallory had insisted. “I wouldn’t mind a trip down there myself. We’ll make a day of it. I’m sure Catherine would love to go. It’ll be fun. It’s a great little town, with some great eating places. And if you like art galleries, and craft shops, you won’t be disappointed. What do you say?” He looked at Mollie. “And some more shopping, yes.”
Kendall had smiled and shook his head. He was still unsure of how much he could actually trust Mallory. Consequently, he hadn’t told Mallory of the real reason as to why he was going to Kinsale, and the last thing he needed was company. “No really we’ll manage, I couldn’t put you to any trouble,” he replied. “Besides, I’ve already hired a car,” he lied.
“Well then just cancel it,” said Mallory smiling. “It would be so much easier for you. I mean you’re not used to driving over here. And I can show you around.”
Once again Kendall shook his head. “Thanks all the same, but no I couldn’t impose,” he said. “I mean you’re a busy man, and you don’t want to be bothered with us, not again.”
Mallory started to protest, but Kendall held up his hand. “We’ll be okay, besides we want to have a look around. You know do the touristy bit. I’ve got my camera like the true American tourist, going to take lots of pictures.” He held it aloft. “And I’ve got my guide book. We’ll be fine.”
Mollie’s heart sank at the mention of a guide book.
* * *
“Situated approximately twenty miles south of Cork, Kinsale is a busy town for locals and tourists alike,” Kendall read from his guide book. “It sits at the mouth of the River Brandon. With its harbor facilities it is an ideal spot for yachting, sea fishing, and day trips whale watching.”
“Whale watching,” repeated Mollie. “Sounds like friend Lynch doesn’t it?”
Kendall nodded. “Yes it does, but it could also apply to O’Rourke’s two friends couldn’t it?”
Mollie agreed that it could. “Well, let’s hope that they aren’t out on a trip when we arrive.”
“Right, let’s get started then shall we,” Kendall said, as he switched on the ignition, put the car into drive and slowly pulled away.
* * *
It was just aft
er twelve-thirty when they arrived in Kinsale. Kendall managed to find a parking spot in Market Lane, as suggested by Mallory.
“Okay, so here we are,” said Mollie. “Now what?”
Kendall shook his head and smiled. “Now we find the Sally Mae, and ask a few questions.”
“So which way?”
Kendall shrugged. “The harbour I guess,” he replied trying to sound knowledgeable. “That’s where they usually keep boats isn’t it?”
The narrow streets were bustling with tourists. There was a music festival in progress, and it seemed that on every street corner there was a fiddle player, or a guitarist, or maybe someone playing a penny whistle. Every so often a young girl would start to sing, and would be quickly joined by a group of musicians.
Mollie suddenly stopped and looked at one young girl singing at the side of the road. “Isn’t that the girl we saw in O’Rourke’s the other evening?” she asked.
Kendall stopped and turned. He shook his head. “Who knows, they all look the same to me, and they all sound the same,” he replied. “Come on let’s get going. The harbour’s this way according to the map Mallory gave me.”
He continued on his way, Mollie hurrying to catch up, as they made their way down Market Lane, and into Pier Road, and on to the Yacht Club.
Along the quay side there was a line of pleasure craft offering fishing trips, or whale watching, or a trip around the islands. A short distance along the quay was an empty mooring, simply labelled “Sally Mae – Day Trips” but there was no sign of the craft.
“Excuse me, sir,” Kendall said to an elderly gentleman sitting at the quayside nearby.
“Ah now,” said the man. “From Australia is it then?”
Kendall shook his head. “No, we’re from America.”
“Ah, indeed you are,” the man agreed. “I knew it straight away. Here on holiday then are you?”
Kendall looked at Mollie, and sighed. “Yes,” he replied. “I was wondering if you could help me.”
“I knew someone from America once, so I did,” said the man looking wistfully across the harbour.