by John Holt
“How about this,” said Mollie, as she placed a buff colored folder on to the desk.
Kendall nodded. “Fine,” he said. “That about does it. I think we’re ready. All we have to do now is wait for our visitor.” He looked at the clock once again. “Not long now,” he said.
“If he comes,” Mollie pointed out.
“He’ll come, don’t worry about that,” said Kendall.
* * *
It was just after half past three when the door opened and Tony Fletcher, sounding out of breath, entered the room.
“Ah, Mr. Fletcher, good of you to come,” said Kendall. “I was beginning to think that you were going to stand me up. Do have a seat.”
Fletcher took a deep breath, and sat down. “This better be good, Kendall,” he said.
“Oh I think you’ll get a kick out of it,” Kendall replied.
“I’m a busy man, and I don’t like being ordered around.” Fletcher replied. “So Kendall, what did you find out?”
“The blackmail notes you mean?”
Fletcher nodded. “Certainly the blackmail notes, what else?” he replied. “Have you found out who is blackmailing me?”
Kendall smiled and shook his head. “There was no blackmail was there? Never was, it was all put on.”
Fletcher looked puzzled. “But the letters,” he protested. “You saw them, those threatening letters.”
“You know Mr. Fletcher those letters were really very interesting,” Kendall replied. “I had my friends at the New York Police Department check them out.”
“So what did they find?” Fletcher asked.
Kendall shook his head. “Did you know that although the envelope was covered in fingerprints, there was absolutely nothing on the letters themselves.”
Fletcher shook his head. “No I have to admit I never knew that,” he replied. “So what about it?”
“I was just wondering why a blackmailer, any blackmailer, would go to so much trouble not to get prints on the letters, but when it actually came to the envelope all caution was thrown to the winds. Doesn’t make sense to me, what do you think?”
Fletcher shook his head once again. “I’ve really no idea,” he replied. “You’re the detective you figure it out.”
“Those envelopes were covered with prints,” Kendall continued. “Some of them were yours, Mr. Fletcher, and some of them were actually mine, imagine that.”
“Go on,” said Fletcher.
“And some of them belonged to an old friend of mine,” said Kendall.
“Who?” asked Fletcher.
“As I said an old friend from my days with NYPD,” Kendall continued. “Ray Sullivan, do you know him?”
Fletcher shook his head a third time. “Never heard of him,” he replied. “Who is he?”
“Oh, just a small time crook,” said Kendall.
“Well there you are,” said Fletcher. “He’s the one who has been blackmailing me. Well done Kendall, very well done.”
Now it was Kendall’s turn to shake his head. “Ray Sullivan wasn’t blackmailing you was he? It’s not his style.”
“I don’t know anything about his style,” said Fletcher. “Clearly he’s the blackmailer. His fingerprints were on the envelope you said so yourself.”
“As I said, Sullivan wasn’t blackmailing you. In fact there never was a blackmailer,” replied Kendall. “Unless it was Victor Lowry, and that’s why you killed him.”
Fletcher shook his head and smiled. “Oh Kendall you disappoint me. Why on earth would I kill Lowry? Besides don’t the police already have the murderer in custody?”
“You were seen, Fletcher,” said Kendall.
“Seen,” repeated Fletcher. “Seen where?”
“At Onslow Mansions, on the day that Lowry was murdered.”
Fletcher shook his head. “Nonsense, Kendall, pure nonsense.”
“You were seen leaving the building at just about six o’clock,” Kendall continued.
“Who saw me?” Fletcher asked.
“One of the neighbors,” replied Kendall. “They saw someone, you, cross the street and get into a car and drive away.”
“Well obviously they were mistaken,” said Fletcher.
Kendall shook his head. “Oh no, there’s no mistake. It was you right enough.”
Fletcher shrugged and sighed. “They actually saw me,” he said. “I mean clearly. Clear enough to identify me.”
Kendall shook his head. “Well I have to say in truth that they didn’t see you that clearly.”
“There you are then,” said Fletcher. “I said it was nonsense. Now unless there’s anything else I have to ….”
“But they did identify your car,” Kendall continued. “They said that it was a bluish gray color. What color is your car?”
Fletcher started to smile. “It’s a light blue,” he replied. “I guess bluish gray might describe it, but there are thousands of cars that color. Could belong to anyone, how can you be so sure that it was mine?”
Kendall shook his head. “Well you know that’s right,” he said. “There are hundreds, thousands maybe. But you know you might find that of interest.” He pointed to the notebook lying on the desk. “Take a look.”
Fletcher picked it up and turned the pages. “What is it?” he asked.
“A young friend of mine brought that round to me,” Kendall replied. “You can see his name, Kelvin Carter, there on the front cover.”
“What are you talking about Kendall?” said Fletcher beginning to get impatient. “I haven’t time for this.”
“Kelvin is a nice bright lad. You should meet him” Kendall continued. “But carry on. It makes very interesting reading.”
“But what is it?” repeated Fletcher.
“Oh it’s just something I saw some children doing outside Onslow Mansions,” explained Kendall. “It’s a list of car registration numbers.”
Fletcher looked at the note book and turned a few more pages. “So it’s a list of numbers. Why should that interest me?”
Kendall smiled. “It’s odd isn’t it what some people find interesting, and others find so incredibly dull. Did you ever go around collecting car numbers?”
“No I never did,” Fletcher replied and heaved a sigh. “I imagine there is a point to all of this.”
Kendall nodded. “When I was a kid I used to collect everything. Car numbers, stamps, anything,” he said ignoring Fletcher. “Some kids collected stamps, some collected matchbox labels, others collected coins, others went for car numbers. Me, I liked the stamps. All of those foreign countries that I never imagined I’d ever go to. I used to dream that one day I’d find something rare, you know, like the one with the aircraft flying upside down. You know …”
“Kendall, can you just get to the point?”
“Oh sure, sorry, I tend to ramble sometimes. My mother was always telling me to ….”
“Kendall, can we get on?”
Kendall smiled and nodded. He held his hand up. “Sorry, now what were we talking about?”
“Car registration numbers,” Fletcher replied.
“That’s right, so we were,” said Kendall. “You know that day, the day Lowry was murdered, there were some boys outside the apartments. They were collecting registration numbers. They are there nearly every day during the school holidays, can you imagine.” Kendall paused for a moment. “Now me I’d be out in the park playing baseball, or swimming, especially on a hot day.”
“Kendall, just get to the point?”
“You must have seen them,” Kendall continued, ignoring Fletcher’s comment. “What’s the matter with me? You did see them, at least you ran into one.” He paused once again. “A nice lad, about twelve years old, remember? You knocked him flying. He ended up with a very nasty bruise and cuts on his arm. Just near the shoulder.” Kendall started to rub his arm indicating the area. “You must have really hit him hard. You were obviously in a great hurry. Guess I would be too if I were running from a murder scene.”
�
��Very interesting, Kendall but it wasn’t me.”
“Strange,” replied Kendall. “I showed him your photograph, he recognized you straight away.”
Fletcher shook his head. “I told you it wasn’t me. I was no-where near Onslow Mansions that day.”
“There’s another strange thing,” said Kendall. “This book tells a different story.”
“I’m listening, Kendall,” said Fletcher. “But you’re not making any sense, and I really do have far more important things to attend to.”
“Of course you have,” agreed Kendall. “You are a very busy man, I know that. Bear with me though, will you, just a little longer.”
“Go on,” said Fletcher. “But just be quick will you.”
“That’s very good of you,” said Kendall. “The thing is, if you look closely you’ll see that the list is quite detailed. It’s not just a list of numbers.” He shook his head. “Oh no, for example each page has a date. Do you see that, there at the top on the left hand side?” He reached forward to the notepad, and turned the pages. “There.”
“All right, Kendall, I can see the date, now what?”
“You’ll also notice the name of the road. So we know for example that car registration STA 1897 was seen on the 14th in Mulberry Avenue. Do you see that?”
“Yes Kendall, I see that,” replied Fletcher getting weary.
“And did you notice that the car was a Chrysler 200. A nice car don’t you think.”
Fletcher nodded. “I noticed.”
“The detail in that book is quite amazing,” said Kendall. “Just look again, that Ford there, about half way down. It has Florida plates. Do you see that? And the next car is a Pontiac from California, a Pontiac Solstice.” He paused for a moment. “I mean the detail these kids went to. We were never that detailed. All we put down was the number, nothing else.”
“Quite amazing,” Fletcher agreed. But I still don’t see what it has to do with me.”
“Well let me see if I can enlighten you shall I,” said Kendall. “Would you just turn the page? At the top it says Carlton Avenue, that’s just around the corner from where Onslow Mansions are located, did you know that.”
Fletcher said nothing, but merely turned the pages.
“Now, if you would just notice the date once again. That’s the day that Lowry was murdered,” Kendall continued. “About one third down the page you’ll see a New York plate TBF4646.” Kendall paused for a moment waiting for Fletcher to find the item. “It’s a Buick Regal. They don’t say a color but I’m guessing it was a light Blue. That is your car I believe. TBF, Tony Brian Fletcher.”
Fletcher smiled and nodded. “No question that’s my car all right. The only thing is you still can’t prove that it was me driving it.”
Kendall rubbed the side of his face. “Well now let’s think about that shall we,” he said. “Firstly the neighbor identified somebody leaving the building, Onslow Mansions, running across the road, over to that particular car and getting in. Is that all right so far?”
Fletcher nodded. “You’re telling the story.”
“The young boy, I mentioned, he identified you,” Kendall continued.
“His word against mine,” said Fletcher. “Who would you believe?”
“Well if it wasn’t you then it must have been someone else,” said Kendall. “Someone who had, maybe, stolen your car?”
Fletcher nodded once again. “Maybe.”
Kendall suddenly sneezed violently.
“Do you suffer from hay fever, Kendall,” asked Fletcher trying to sound sympathetic.
“Well I’m certainly allergic to something,” Kendall replied..
“Oh what?” asked Fletcher.
“People telling lies,” replied Kendall. “I just can’t bear it.”
“I admit that it was my car, okay,” said Fletcher. “The problem is, as you surmised just now, it had been stolen. I reported it to the police two days before.”
“Really,” said Kendall unconvinced.
“Just a moment,” said Fletcher. “I think I have the police form right here.” He reached into his inside pocket and took out his wallet. He opened it and took out a sheet of paper. He opened it and handed it to Kendall. “There you are.”
Kendall looked at the paper for a few moments. “Well this looks genuine enough,” he replied. “So the car was stolen.”
Fletcher nodded.
“Quite a coincidence though,” said Kendall. “I mean your car just happens to turn up at Lowry’s apartment the day he was killed.”
“I suppose so, Kendall,” replied Fletcher. “A coincidence as you say, or maybe it was planned that way, to incriminate me.”
“Interesting,” said Kendall. “I never thought of that. Let me think this out for a moment.” He paused for a moment or two. “So you are suggesting that the car was actually stolen by Martin Gardiner.”
“Martin Gardiner?” said Fletcher puzzled.
Kendall nodded. “He is the one the police are holding.”
“Oh I see,” said Fletcher nodding. “Well then I assume that he was the person the neighbor saw, and the one who knocked down the poor unfortunate boy.”
Kendall sighed and shook his head. “And getting into your car, don’t forget.”
“That’s right, exactly,” Fletcher agreed.
Kendall shook his head. “I don’t think so, too much of a coincidence, and I’m not one for coincidence.” Kendall suddenly sneezed once again. He heaved a sigh. “I really am allergic to something here today. It’s not usually this bad.” He took out his handkerchief, and wiped his nose.
“Coincidence or not, it was Gardiner, or whatever his name was, who must have stolen my car,” Fletcher continued. “He must have planned it all along.”
Kendall shook his head once again. “Strange that you had that form with you, still in your pocket like that.”
“Not strange at all, Kendall,” Fletcher replied. “I put it there at the precinct office, and then just forgot about it.”
“Maybe, but I’m still puzzled.”
“Go on, Kendall let’s get it over and done with shall we.”
“Well, I understand that the car has been checked for prints, as would be normal where a stolen car has been recovered.”
“Correct,” replied Fletcher. “So what about it?”
“It’s simply that the only prints found were yours.”
“So whoever stole it wore gloves I imagine,” said Fletcher. “There’s no mystery.”
Kendall nodded his head slowly. “Maybe, maybe not.” Kendall looked back at Fletcher. “You know I don’t believe that car was stolen. I believe that you were driving it that day.”
“Believe what you like Kendall,” Fletcher replied. “But where’s your proof.”
Kendall nodded. “Well, let me see.” He reached for the buff colored folder. He opened it and took out a newspaper cutting. He passed it to Fletcher. “I’m not an expert in this kind of thing, but that article is all about your company, Westcom, and allegations of insider trading. Lowry found out, and blamed you, but you knew that already. A pretty good motive for murder I would guess. Now how about putting you at the scene.”
“The stage is yours Kendall, do go ahead.”
“You said that it was your word against Lennie’s.”
“That’s right, I did,” agreed Fletcher.
“Interesting,” Kendall continued. “You were also seen by one of the neighbors, and several of the other boys, there were six altogether. Furthermore, the police found your fingerprints on the entrance door to the building, and inside Lowry’s apartment. I think that will be more than enough to place you at the scene, don’t you?”
“Doesn’t prove that I killed him though,” said Fletcher.
Kendall thought for a few moments. “It certainly proves something though.”
“What does it prove?” asked Fletcher.
“It proves that you lied. You said that you weren’t at the scene. Clearly you were, so you lie
d,” replied Kendall. “I’d say that shows you had something to hide. Why lie otherwise? If you had just agreed that you had been in the area that day. A meeting with someone, or some business to attend to, then I might have had a problem tying you into Lowry’s murder. The fact that you lied would be sufficient to cause suspicion. The fact that you were seen running from the apartments proves that you were anxious to get away. In fact you were running so fast you never saw the young boy that you collided with. You never stopped to see if he was alright. In my book that would be sufficient to prove that you killed Lowry.”
Kendall shrugged his shoulders and looked over towards the door of the kitchen area. “Dave, you might care to join us now,” he said. He then turned towards Fletcher. “Hope you don’t mind company. I invited a couple of friends over.”
Detective Sergeant Evans emerged, a huge grin on his face. He was closely followed by officer Byrne.
“The one with the silly grin on his face is Detective Sergeant David Evans, from the City Police,” Kendall explained. “The young guy with him is Officer George Byrne.”
“We’ll take it from here, Kendall,” said Evans looking pleased with himself. He walked over to Fletcher and placed his hand on Fletcher’s shoulder. “Tony Brian Fletcher you are under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Victor James Lowry. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say will be taken down and may be used in evidence against you. You have the right to an attorney. If you do not have an attorney one will be appointed for you by the Court.”
Fletcher said nothing, and simply glared at Kendall.
“I’ve got to hand to you, Kendall,” said Evans as he walked towards the door. “I was so sure that it was Gardiner.” He shook his head and threw a friendly punch to Kendall’s chest.
“See you around.”
* * *
Chapter Thirty-F ive
The Summing Up
“This is Radio Station KK59, Derek Webb reporting. Arrest warrants have been issued today on three executives of the Virginia Sentinel. All have been charged with offences relating to illegal phone hacking. The newspaper group has been ordered to pay compensation understood to be in excess of twenty million dollars.