by John Holt
“I’d just like to go over it once more, you know,” Kendall replied. “Just to check a few things, I won’t take long.”
“We saw nothing,” said one of the other neighbors, coming out from number thirty one, a few yards further on.
“You are?” Kendall asked, notepad at the ready.
“Mrs. Walker, I live at thirty one, just next door to Mr. Lowry’s apartment.”
“Right, so you saw nothing.”
“This guy comes in at about four, or maybe a little after,” said the elderly man from number thirty-two.
“It was nearer ten after four,” interjected Mrs. Walker.
“It was just after four,” the elderly man insisted.
“Ten after,” the lady repeated.
“But you said you didn’t see anything,” said Kendall. “How are you so sure about the time?”
“I heard him banging on Mr. Lowry’s door,” she replied, and looked at the elderly man. “I thought the whole building was coming down,” she continued. “I thought it was an earthquake maybe.”
“We don’t get earthquakes in Virginia,” the elderly man announced.
“But it was certainly very loud,” said a third neighbor, a young girl stepping out of the elevator. “I thought that it was like thunder.”
“You know I thought it was thunder as well,” said Mrs. Walker.
“You just said that it was like an earthquake,” said the elderly man. “So which was it? An earthquake, or thunder?”
“It was like thunder and ….”
Kendall shook his head. He really did not need a weather report. “All right so you heard him,” he interrupted. “What time did you say it was?”
“She said four ten,” the elderly man replied helpfully. “But I said it was just after four.”
Mrs. Walker glared at him. “It was four ten,” she confirmed. “That program had only just started on the television.” She looked at Kendall and smiled. “One of those detective things, another of those repeats, Columbo. You know the one? Do you ever watch it?”
Kendall shook his head. “No, I never watch television in the afternoons,” he replied. “I’m far too busy.” Too busy in the local bar.
Mrs. Walker smiled. “It’s a good program I think, I always watch it.”
“If we could just get back to Mr. Lowry,” said Kendall, beginning to lose patience.
“Oh certainly,” said Mrs. Walker. “Well he knocks and knocks, making such a noise. Then the door opens and he goes in.”
Kendall made a note. “Did you actually see the person?”
Mrs. Walker shook her head. “I told you I heard him, I never saw him.”
Kendall nodded. “What about you?” he asked the young girl.
“I just heard him too,” she said shaking her head.
Kendall heaved a sigh, and turned towards the elderly man. He was shaking his head. “Sorry, I never saw him either.”
Somehow it was no more than Kendall had expected. “Did either of you hear anything else?” he asked.
“I heard shouting,” said the young girl.
“So did I,” said Mrs. Walker. “Somebody was very angry. They were arguing.”
“Do you know who it was?” asked Kendall. “Was it Lowry?”
Mrs. Walker shook her head. “I’m not really sure,” she replied.
Kendall started to smile. Why was he not surprised? “Did you hear anything of what they were saying?” he asked. Once again he drew a blank. Nobody heard anything. “And you never saw him leave?” Another blank.
“But I heard somebody call out,” said Mrs. Walker.
“Call out?” repeated Kendall. “Who called out, and what did they say?”
“Goodbye Victor,” said Mrs. Walker.
“Goodbye Victor,” repeated Kendall. “Did you hear anything else?”
“No,” Mrs. Walker replied. “I just heard the door slam and that was it.”
“What time was that?” asked Kendall.
“It was just after six,” said Mrs. Walker. “The evening news had just started.”
“Anything else?” asked Kendall, not actually expecting too much.
The elderly man held his hand up. “I saw someone come out of the building,” he said hesitantly. “I was just watching those boys, you know the ones collecting the car details.”
Kendall looked at him. Here was the breakthrough that he was hoping for. “Go on, he came out then what?”
“He was in an obvious hurry, you know, running like that,” the elderly man started to explain. “He ran into one of those boys, knocked him to the ground.” He paused for a moment. “He was alright though. He got up and waved his fist at the man. He was calling something out, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying.”
“I can imagine though,” said the elderly man.
Kendall heaved a sigh. “Can we get back to the man,” he said getting anxious again. “Where did he go?”
The elderly man took a deep breath. “Well as I said he was running fast. He crossed the street and got into a car parked at the corner. Then he drove away.”
“Do you know what kind of car was it?” Kendall asked.
The man shook his head. “I don’t know,” he replied. “I’m not good with things like that. The all look the same to me.”
Mrs. Walker nodded her head in agreement. “You’re right,” she said. “They do all look alike.”
Kendall heaved a sigh. Sadly they were correct. There was no style anymore, they all looked identical.
“What about the color?” he asked.
The man thought for a few moments. “A bluey grayish color,” he replied. “Something like that anyway, or maybe it was green.” He paused for a moment and took off his glasses. “My eyesight’s not what it used to be.”
Terrific, thought Kendall. That narrows the search down considerably. He wondered just how many bluey grayish, or even green, cars there were. “What about the man,” Kendall asked. “Can you describe him? Was he tall, or short?”
“Tallish,” replied the man. “Yes, a big man.”
“A big man,” repeated Kendall. “Do you mean he was heavy?”
“Yes he was heavy,” the man agreed. “Maybe he was about your weight.”
Kendall smiled, most amusing. “What about age?” he said.
Once again the elderly man shook his head. “I didn’t really get a good look,” he replied. “Fifty or sixty something maybe, he wasn’t young, that’s all I know, perhaps your age.”
Kendall ignored the comment. “Did you notice his hair, the color?”
“Well I didn’t really get a good look but I think it was dark brown and quite wavy,” the elderly man replied.
Kendall wrote the information down. “Color of eyes?” he asked.
The elderly man shook his head. “Sorry, I’ve no idea,” he replied.
Kendall was beginning to wonder if there was any point continuing, but if he was anything at all, it was stubborn. He decided to try once again. “What was he wearing?” he asked.
Once again, the elderly man thought for a few moments. “Oh a dark suit,” he replied. “Blue I think, or it could have been black.” The man paused for a few moments. “Or it might have been brown. Sorry I can’t be sure.”
Kendall heaved another deep sigh, so much for the breakthrough. “Well you’ve all been very helpful,” he said unconvinced. He started to close his notepad, and turned to walk away. He suddenly stopped and turned. “There’s something very odd though,” he said.
He looked at Mrs. Walker. “You said that you heard someone knocking on Mr. Lowry’s door at …”
“It was at ten after four,” Mrs. Walker interrupted. “I know because of the program.”
Kendall nodded. “Right, I remember, Columbo,” he replied. “Fine, but shortly afterwards there was the sound of an argument. Is that right?”
“That’s correct,” said the elderly man. “Somebody was shouting very loudly.”
“But you couldn’t hear
what was being said.”
“No,” the elderly man shook his head.
“Okay, so there’s an argument going on at about a quarter after four, or thereabouts,” Kendall said. “So how long did it last?”
The elderly man looked at the other two neighbors. Mrs. Walker shook her head. “I don’t really know,” she said. “Probably not that long.”
“I never really noticed,” said the young girl. “But it was certainly a lot quieter at about five.”
“Five,” repeated Kendall. He flipped his notepad, and made a note. “And the next thing you heard was a door slamming round about six is that right?”
“That’s right,” said the elderly man.
“Where there’s my problem,” said Kendall. “I mean what happened between five, and six o’clock?” There was no response. “I mean it seems to me that following a heated argument at about four fifteen, Mr. Lowry’s visitor would have been told to leave a lot sooner than six.”
The young girl started to nod. “That’s right, you would,” she said.
“Unless the argument was all settled, and they had calmed down,” suggested Mrs. Walker. “That’s possible isn’t it?”
Kendall had to admit that it was indeed possible. “That’s certainly possible,” Kendall admitted. “But I still have a problem.” He paused for a moment. “We seem to be saying that there was a heated argument going on at about four fifteen, and then everything goes quiet. Nothing is heard until about six o’clock when someone is seen running from the building. That seems strange to me.”
“You know I thought I heard footsteps in the corridor about four thirty though,” the young girl said. “But I just thought that it was one of you two, or even Mr. Lowry himself.”
“Well it certainly wasn’t me,” said Mrs. Walker.
“Nor me,” added the elderly man.
“I was going to take a look,” said the young girl. “But I thought if it was Mr. Lowry he wouldn’t like it if he saw me waiting and watching.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” agreed Mrs. Walker. “He wouldn’t have liked that at all.”
“Anyway it wasn’t Mr. Lowry,” the young girl continued. “And it wasn’t you two. So I guess I must have been mistaken.”
“Hearing things more like,” suggested the elderly man.
Kendall knew the feeling. “So can you tell me anything else?” He asked anything but hopeful.
The three neighbors said nothing for a while, thinking. The elderly man continued to shake his head. Mrs. Walker rubbed the side of her face, and heaved a sigh. “I can’t think of anything else,” she eventually replied. She looked at the young girl. “Can you?” she asked.
The young girl started to smile and looked at Kendall. “Sorry.”
Kendall smiled back. He was, however, feeling anything but happy. He checked his watch. He had just spent two hours and gained what precisely?
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Security Guard
As Kendall returned to the entrance lobby the security guard looked up and nodded.
“It’s Joe isn’t it?” said Kendall, as he walked closer to the desk. “Not disturbing you am I?”
Joe shook his head. “Oh no, no problem,” he replied. “I was just checking the results.”
Kendall moved closer and looked down at the newspaper lying open on the desk. It was the racing page. “You like horseracing then,” he said.
Joe smiled and nodded. “Oh, yeah sure, the occasional bet you know,” he replied. “A bit of a flutter, that’s all.”
“You study the form, do you?” Kendall asked. “I could never understand all of that, about firm going, and handicaps, and weights carried. It’s all a foreign language to me.”
Joe smiled. “Ah, it’s easy enough,” he replied. “You get used to it.”
“Seems very complicated to me,” said Kendall. “So who do you fancy today?”
Joe looked down at the newspaper. “Blue Boy in the four fifteen, he’s a nine year old, won three of his last six races, had a couple of seconds and a third last time out. He likes soft to firm, and he’s five to one. Sounds like a good each way bet to me.”
“You sound as though you know what you are doing,” Kendall replied, impressed.
“I like to think so,” Joe replied. “Anyway I put twenty on to win.”
“Blue Boy eh, you know I might just risk a couple of bucks myself.” He pointed to the telephone. “I guess you place your bets by phone, yes.”
Joe looked at the telephone, and shook his head. “No way,” he replied. “That’s just too risky. There’s no proof you see, they can always deny that you placed the bet. Imagine you place a hundred on a sure thing. It comes in at 10 to one. You go for your winnings and they say, bet, what bet? It happens.”
Kendall wasn’t much of a gambler himself. Life was a big enough gamble he thought without adding to it, but that made sense. “Hey who can you trust these days?”
“You can say that again,” said Joe.
“So what do you do then?” Kendall asked. “Send someone round?”
Joe shook his head once again. “No way, you can’t be sure that they’d do it right for you. They might put it on another horse, or maybe they won’t even place the bet at all. Your horse loses, they have your money.”
“So you go round to the bookie yourself,” said Kendall.
He smiled. “There’s a saying if you want something done, do it yourself. So yes I go round myself.”
“So where do you go?” asked Kendall. “Is it far?”
Joe shook his head. “There’s a bookie just around the corner,” he replied. “O’Rourkes.”
“But I thought places like that were illegal,” said Kendall.
“Illegal, spegal, who knows, it’s an off track betting parlor, you know,” said Joe. “All I know is he takes my money, and if I win, he pays up.”
“So do you go round to O’Roukes often?” asked Kendall
“Most days when there’s a meeting on, I’ll put a bet on.”
Kendall looked puzzled. He glanced around the reception area, and then looked back at Joe. “But aren’t you supposed to stay here on duty?” he asked.
Joe shrugged his shoulder. “Well you know, yes and no. I mean to say I get a short break between four fifteen, and five,” he replied.
But shouldn’t someone be here all the time?” asked Kendall.
“Maybe,” replied Joe reluctantly. “Not my problem though. I’m entitled to a break, you know. I know my rights. It’s not my fault the company don’t provide stand in staff. They said they would get someone, but they never did. That was six months ago. Just talk you know. But there’s no way I’m going to miss my break, besides not much happens here in the afternoons.”
“What about repair men, or deliveries?” asked Kendall.
“Not a problem,” replied Joe. “They generally ring in, and we arrange a convenient time.”
“Do you win much?” asked Kendall. “On the horses I mean.”
Joe shook his head. “Not much,” he replied. “Although I had a nice win the other day.” He stopped suddenly and heaved a sigh. “The day Mr. Lowry was killed it was.” He paused once again. “The Champion Stakes at Hylands Park. Gray Lady.”
“Gray Lady,” repeated Kendall.
“That’s right,” said Joe. “A four year old, she won by four lengths, came in at twenty to one. I had ten bucks on the nose.”
“Twenty to one that’s good odds.”
“Sure is,” Joe agreed. “I don’t get many at those odds. Normally it’s the favorite you know odds on, or maybe two to one, something like that.” He paused for a moment, looked back at his newspaper, and then closed it over. “But I don’t think you came to discuss the horses did you, Mr. Kendall?”
Kendall smiled. “That’s right,” he agreed. “I really wanted to clear up a few things about the death of Mr. Lowry.”
Joe shook his head. “Dreadful thing that,” he said. “Just terrible.�
�� He looked up at Kendall. “Nothing like that ever happened here before. This is normally a nice quiet neighborhood. You wouldn’t hear a thing.”
“I’m sure that it is,” said Kendall. “So what can you tell me about that day?”
“I’ve already told the police everything I know,” Joe replied. “I don’t know what else you want.”
Kendall nodded. “Yes sure you have,” he replied. “I already have that stuff,” Kendall lied. “I just want to double check a couple of things.”
Joe shrugged his shoulders, and looked over at the wall clock. It was too late to get a bet on. “All right, Mr. Kendall, go ahead. What can I do for you?”
Kendall smiled. “Just a couple of things,” he said. “Firstly did you see Mr. Gardiner arrive?”
Joe nodded. “Oh yes, I saw him.”
“What time was that? Kendall asked.
“It was a few minutes before four,” Joe replied. He flipped the pages of a register lying on the counter. “There it is three fifty-five on the dot.”
Kendall nodded. “And what time did he leave?”
Joe looked down at the register once again. “I signed him out at six oh five.”
“You’re sure it was the same man?”
Joe looked puzzled. What kind of dumb question was that? “Sure it was the same man,” he replied. “Who else would it be?”
“You saw his face?” Kendall persisted.
“No I never saw his face. I never noticed him until I saw him at the entrance door.”
“And you are sure that it was Mr. Gardiner?”
Joe nodded. “Of course I’m sure. Who else would it be?”
“But you said you never saw his face.”
“That’s right, I did say that but I’d know Mr. Gardiner anywhere,” Joe insisted. “It was him alright. I called out to him, goodbye Mr. Gardiner.”
“So did he make any reply?” asked Kendall.
“He raised his right hand and waved, and he called back goodbye.”
“And it was just after six?” said Kendall. “How are you so sure of the time?”
“Easy,” Joe replied. “I was waiting on the results, on the radio. I had ten dollars on Harlequin in the last race.”
“I see,” said Kendall sighing. “And?”