Kendall (Kendall Book 5)

by John Holt

  “Now, now, wait just a moment, Peters,” said the Major. “Let me at least hear what the gentleman wants, then you can throw him out if you want to. Might even help you, could do with a bit of excitement to liven the place up.”

  The Major looked at Kendall for a moment. “Fetch me a double brandy will you?” he said to Peters. “And you Mr. er … what will you have?”

  “Kendall, the name’s Tom Kendall and I’m a private detective,” Kendall responded. “A double scotch would be fine.”

  “Water?” asked the Major.

  Kendall nodded.

  “There we are then, Peters, be a good fellow,” the Major continued. “I’ll have a double brandy and a double scotch with water for this gentleman.”

  Peters turned, and walked away trying hard not to show the disgust that he felt.

  “Sit down, Mr. Kendall,” the Major continued. “So what can I do for you?”

  “Thank you, Major,” replied Kendall as he sat down. “I’m making enquiries about a certain Tony Fletcher. I think you know him.”

  “Certainly I do,” the major replied. “A very fine ….”

  “Your brandy, Major,” a voice interrupted. The drinks were placed on to the adjacent table. The voice then left.

  “Here we are, Mr. Kendall your scotch,” said the Major passing a glass to Kendall. “As I was saying Tony Fletcher is a very fine bridge player. We usually play on a Thursday evening.”

  “Have you seen him lately?” Kendall asked taking a drink.

  The Major thought for a moment or two. “Haven’t seen him for a couple of weeks I would say. I understood that he was going away for a while, at least that’s what he told me.”

  “Going away,” repeated Kendall. “Do you know where?”

  The Major told a drink and shook his head. “San Francisco I think, or it could have been Chicago,” he replied. “I’m afraid I didn’t take much notice. I wasn’t really that interested. Why, what’s this all about?”

  Kendall took another drink. “I’ve just been asked to find him.”

  “To find him,” said the Major. “Why is he lost?”

  Kendall smiled. The next person to say that will get a punch on the nose. “Could be Major,” he replied. “We don’t know, but his wife wants to know where he is.”

  “Ah, his wife,” said the Major knowingly. “Problems at home eh, I suspected something like that when he said he was going away.”

  “Why did you think that?” asked Kendall.

  “Stands to reason,” replied the Major. “Probably been playing around, and she found out. It happens all the time. Probably attracted by his money I would guess, after all he’s no Clark Gable is he?” He started to laugh once again.

  Certainly that kind of thing wasn’t unusual, and indeed it had been Kendall’s first thought. “Maybe,” he replied. “But you know we think it’s more than that.” He drained his glass, wondering if there was any chance of getting another one. “How was he the last time you saw him?”

  “The same as ever, laughing and joking as normal,” said the Major.

  “He wasn’t worried at all, or nervous.”

  “Not at all,” replied the Major. He drained his glass. “Care for another?” He looked around for the waiter, and beckoned him. “Ah John,” he said as the waiter approached. “I’d like another brandy, a double, and for my friend here, a double scotch.”

  “Now Mr. Kendall, what’s he done?”

  Kendall looked puzzled. “Oh no, it’s nothing like that,” he replied. “He hasn’t done anything, at least not to my knowledge.”

  “So what’s this all about?”

  Kendall was about to answer when John arrived with the drinks. He placed them on to the side table and left. “It’s really quite simple,” Kendall started to explain. “His wife hasn’t seen or heard from him for some time. She has asked me to investigate, and that’s it.”

  The Major took a long drink. “She actually made enquiries herself you know, about a week or so ago, told her the same as I’m telling you.”

  Kendall heaved a sigh. “So he hasn’t been seen for some time, and you think he went away to ‘Frisco.”

  “Or Chicago,” the major added. “A business trip I understand.”

  “A bit of a long time for a business trip wouldn’t you say,” replied Kendall.

  “Perhaps, but maybe he’s taking advantage of a few days away. Sounds reasonable to me,” said the Major. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you anymore than that.”

  Kendall drained his glass and stood up. “Major you have been more than helpful. Thank you for your time.” He turned and started towards the door. He suddenly stopped and turned. “And thank you for the drinks. I’ll return the favor one day.”

  “Look forward to it, Mr. Kendall,” replied the Major. “Don’t play bridge do you?”

  Kendall smiled and shook his head.

  “Pity,” said the Major, returning to his newspaper.

  * * *

  A little over an hour later Kendall was back at his office, a cup of coffee and some chocolate cookies on the desk in front of him. He tried to stifle a yawn, and failed.

  “Tired are we?” Mollie asked. “Had a hard day have we?”

  Kendall picked up a cookie, dunked it into his coffee, and then placed it in his mouth, crumbs falling down his shirt front. He yawned once again.

  “Well,” said Mollie. “Are you going to tell me or not? Or should I wait to read about it in tomorrow’s Society columns?”

  “Well it would certainly make a change from all of that stuff about phone hacking wouldn’t it?” Kendall replied.

  “Are you going to tell me or what?”

  Kendall took another cookie and dunked it into the coffee. “Tell you what?” he asked.

  Mollie glared at Kendall. “How did it go?” she asked. “That what.”

  “Oh, that what,” replied Kendall. “Case closed, easy as that, just as I thought.”

  Mollie shook her head and looked puzzled. “What on earth are you talking about?” she asked.

  “The Fletcher case,” Kendall explained. “It’s solved, over, done, finito.”

  Mollie looked even more puzzled if that were possible. “Solved did you say? That’s very interesting. Perhaps you could explain a bit more.”

  Kendall dunked a third cookie, and started to chew. “Our Mr. Tony Fletcher isn’t missing at all,” he replied. “He’s simply away on a business trip. I expect he’ll be back any day now. Just as I thought if you remember.”

  “A business trip,” Mollie repeated. “Whereabouts?”

  “Well the Major wasn’t entirely sure,” Kendall started to explain.

  “Major? What Major?”

  “Major Donaldson, at the Gresham,” replied Kendall. “Nice old boy. Anyway he wasn’t sure if it was San Francisco, or Chicago.”

  “Oh, I can understand that,” said Mollie, with more than a hint of sarcasm. “They sound so alike, and very close to each other.”

  “Either way,” said Kendall dismissively. “He’s on a business trip.”

  Mollie nodded her head. “Interesting,” she said sounding anything but. “So how come his bank card was used just two days ago, right here in town? A large sum of money was withdrawn.”

  “Go on,” replied Kendall. “How large?”

  “Almost five thousand dollars,” Mollie replied.

  * * *

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jennings Son And Ash

  The New York Times, Saturday – “It has been reported that the Virginia Sentinel has made large payments to two unnamed football players, totaling $1 million in out of court settlements. In other reports there have been further allegations of illegal payments being made to police officers. The reports were all later denied by The Sentinel. “It is merely our competitors trying to smear our name,” said a spokesperson.

  * * *

  As usual there was nothing in the newspapers except more and more reports of phone hacking. Kendall turned t
o the back pages. The news was no more interesting.

  “Mr. Kendall,” a voice called out as the office door opened. Kendall looked up and pushed the newspaper to one side. “Mr. Kendall, the name is Jennings. Anthony Jennings. I’m from Jennings Son and Ash, attorneys at law,” the man continued. “Perhaps you have heard of us.”

  Kendall shook his head. He had to admit that he had never heard of Jennings, whatsit and whoever.

  “No matter,” the man said as he walked into the room and handed Kendall a business card. “You have probably heard of my client, Martin Gardiner.”

  Kendall nodded his head. “Martin Gardiner, the guy they say killed that newspaper man, Lowry.”

  The man nodded. “My client did not do it, Mr. Kendall. He is completely innocent.”

  Kendall smiled and nodded his head. “That’s what he said is it?”

  Mr. Jennings nodded. “That’s correct Mr. Kendall.”

  Kendall shook his head and started to laugh. “You know it’s strange, but in my experience, they all say that. In fact it’s very rare for the guilty party to ever admit it. You know the State prisons are full to overflowing with innocent people. It wasn’t me, it was two other guys; I was nowhere near the scene at the time; you’ve no proof. I’ve got a cast iron alibi.”

  “Mr. Kendall, I would like your help,” Jennings continued as he walked towards the desk.

  Kendall smiled. If anyone needed help it was him. “Why me?” he asked.

  The man looked at Kendall. “Could I sit down?” he asked. Then without waiting for an answer he pulled over a chair and made himself comfortable.

  “Did you know that there are twenty one private detective agencies in this area?” Jennings continued.

  Kendall did not know that, but said nothing.

  The man smiled. “I know, I’ve been to every single one of them.”

  “I say again, why me?” Kendall repeated.

  “Well not to put too fine a point on it, Mr. Kendall, everyone else has turned me down,” Jennings replied. “You are all that is left I’m afraid. You are my last hope.”

  Kendall shrugged. Praise indeed. Some recommendation, he thought. We believe that you are the best; we’ve heard such good things about you; your reputation is well known. Does he receive any such accolades? Not at all, all he gets is you are my last hope. How could he turn down such a glowing request?

  “I wonder why that would be Mr. Jennings?” he asked.

  Jennings shook his head. “I really couldn’t say,” he replied. “One of life’s little mysteries I imagine.”

  “Oh I think it’s probably a whole lot simpler than that, don’t you Mr. Jennings?”

  “Apparently they were far too busy,” Jennings replied.

  Kendall smiled. “Too busy,” he repeated. “Perhaps, but I would guess that it was even more than that.”

  “Do go on Mr. Kendall.”

  “It couldn’t be that they actually believe that your man is guilty as charged I suppose,” suggested Kendall.

  “Mr. Kendall, I appreciate that you are a very busy man.”

  Kendall smiled once again and looked down at his desk. Apart from the telephone, and the newspaper lying open at the sports page, it was empty. He spread his arms across the polished surface. Oh yes he was a busy man. He had just finished his quota for the day that was all. He had read the newspaper, twice. It was all bad news. His team had lost four matches in a row. He was debating whether or not they could manage without his support. Certainly they couldn’t manage with it.

  He had dealt with his mail. There had been three letters. One from the bank refusing his request for a loan; One from the electricity company wondering if he would mind very much and pay the latest account. It was a few weeks over due. Okay it was eight weeks overdue to be exact. And last, but no means least there was that letter informing him that he stood to win $125000. He was assured that there was no catch, and that the money was guaranteed. Kendall shook his head, and smiled. He picked up the letter, and then he unceremoniously tore it in half, and then in half again, and then placed it into the waste paper basket.

  Oh yes Kendall was an extremely busy man, wasn’t he? Kendall hadn’t been busy since he had left the Department. There had been one or two small time surveillance jobs, and, of course, there was the missing husband case, thanks to Mollie. Missing? He wasn’t missing. He just didn’t know where he was, or what time of day it was. She didn’t really want him back either. She just wanted to know whether she could make a claim on his life insurance that was all.

  “Mr. Jennings, just examine the evidence. According to the newspaper he worked for Lowry, but had been sacked just a few days before Lowry’s death.”

  “Correct Mr. Kendall,” replied Jennings. “Nothing more than coincidence.”

  Kendall shook his head. “If you ever had the time to get to know me Mr. Jennings, you would quickly learn that I’m not a believer in coincidence.”

  “Mr. Kendall,” Jennings continued. “What do you know about Victor Lowry?”

  Kendall smiled and shook his head. “Only what I read in the papers,” he replied. “Wasn’t he at some dinner party, or something, a few days before he died?”

  Jennings nodded. “It was a Chamber of Commerce function. At the Tey Hotel,” he explained. “Mr. Lowry was named Man of the Year, an award given in recognition of his work exposing corrupt politicians and business men.”

  Kendall nodded. “That’s right,” he said. “But not everyone agreed with that award did they?”

  Jennings looked puzzled.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong,” Kendall continued. “Didn’t somebody threaten him? Didn’t someone say that they would kill him, or something?”

  Jennings nodded once again. “That’s right Mr. Kendall. You are very well informed. It was actually Martin Gardiner who did the threatening.”

  Kendall nodded and smiled. “There you are then, that settles it. It would seem that he carried out his threat.”

  Jennings shook his head. “Mr. Lowry was not a particularly popular man Mr. Kendall. In his many years as owner of the Virginia Sentinel he made many enemies. Any one of whom could have, and would have, killed him if the opportunity arose.”

  Kendall shrugged. “So he had a lot of enemies,” he said. “But it was Gardiner who had actually threatened to kill him, no one else.”

  “Mr. Kendall, if you intended to kill someone, would you make such a public announcement?” asked Jennings. “I think not.”

  Kendall had to admit that Jennings had made a fair point, fair, but not entirely conclusive. “Maybe not,” he said. “But there I’m not Gardiner am I?”

  Jennings started to smile. “No you’re not,” he replied. “But even if you were, you still wouldn’t do it.”

  Kendall shook his head. “Well you know I just might, especially if I wanted to create an illusion.”

  “Illusion?” repeated Jennings, puzzled.

  Kendall nodded. “An illusion that I didn’t really mean what I said, whereas in reality that was my intention all along.”

  “What do you mean Mr. Kendall?” asked Jennings.

  “It was nothing more than a bluff,” Kendall replied. “I don’t play poker but I understand that bluffing is a major feature of the game. To give the impression that something was true, when it was a lie, or vice versa.”

  Jennings nodded. “Ah I see,” he replied. “That’s very clever I have to admit.” He paused for a few moments. “But have you never said something like I could murder someone? I could kill you. I’ll break your neck.”

  Kendall smiled. His very words directed at the Umpire at last Saturday’s game. He nodded. “Certainly I’ve said that, on numerous occasions. Who hasn’t?” he said. “Especially after a few drinks, but so far the person those words have been directed at has never turned up dead the following day.”

  “Maybe so, Mr. Kendall, maybe so,” said Jennings. “It still does not take from the undeniable fact that my client is innocent.”
/>   “Undeniable you say,” said Kendall. “So why exactly did Gardiner make the threat?”

  Jennings frowned, and thought for a few moments. “Mr. Kendall it was not a threat, it was merely the rant of someone who had had too much to drink.”

  “Even so, Mr. Jennings, there was no love lost between Gardiner and Lowry was there, correct?” asked Kendall.

  “No there wasn’t,” Jennings agreed. “Gardiner had worked for Lowry for a number of years. Then a few days before he died Lowry had told Gardiner that he was fired.”

  “Fired” repeated Kendall. “Do we know why?”

  “Yes we know why,” replied Jennings. “However, for the time being I’ll keep that to myself if you don’t mind.”

  Kendall looked puzzled. “I don’t like secrets, especially if they could have a bearing on a case.”

  “I appreciate that Mr. Kendall, but I would still prefer to say nothing, that is until you have agreed to take on the case.”

  Kendall shook his head. “Let me get this straight. Gardiner has been sacked. He threatens Lowry, and a few short days later Lowry is found dead. Is that about it?”

  Jennings looked at Kendall. “My client, Martin Gardiner is innocent,” he said. “He goes to trial in a little over four months time. I would like your help in proving his innocence.”

  “If I remember correctly wasn’t he seen by someone, the reception guy at Lowry’s apartment wasn’t it?” said Kendall.

  “Mr. Gardiner does not deny that he was at the apartment, but he insists that he left Mr. Lowry just after four thirty and he was alive at that time.”

  “He can prove that no doubt,” said Kendall.

  “He went to a bar close by,” Jennings continued. “The Black Orchid I believe. It’s on Tredegar, at the corner of …”

  “I know where it is,” Kendall interrupted. “And it’s the Blue Orchid.”

  Jennings smiled and nodded. “I do believe that you are correct Mr. Kendall. It was indeed the Blue Orchid.”

  “So that’s his story then.”

  “That’s correct,” agreed Jennings. “He says that he arrived there at about twenty minutes to five, and stayed until about six.”