Kendall - Private Detective - Box Set

by John Holt

  “What do you think?” Duncan repeated casually. “Come on, Frank. You are an intelligent man. You must have some kind of idea, a feeling perhaps? Or even an educated guess maybe.”

  Still there was no reaction from Reynolds, who was becoming more and more agitated.

  “Shall we say one hundred thousand dollars per acre?” Duncan continued. “Perhaps one hundred and twenty thousand dollars?” Still there was no comment from Reynolds. “Do you think more than that, Frank?”

  Reynolds could keep silent no longer. “I don’t know, Ian,” he snapped, angry and annoyed. “I’ve absolutely no idea what it would be worth. What’s more, I don’t really care. Strangely enough it is of no interest to me, none whatsoever. I couldn’t care less, do you understand?”

  Duncan said nothing, and merely looked at him hard, imploring him to express a view. Reynolds knew that look. He had to make some comment. He simply had no choice. Duncan would just go on and on otherwise. “More, much more than that I would say,” he eventually responded. “Perhaps, it could be as much as two hundred thousand dollars. Does it really matter?”

  “Really, two hundred thousand dollars?” Duncan replied calmly, ignoring the comment. “Surely not.” He looked at Reynolds. “No, that’s a little over estimation I would say, a little over the top.”

  Reynolds had finally given an answer, but it wasn’t good enough.

  “But then you always had a tendency to exaggerate, didn’t you Frank?” Duncan continued. “No. I think one hundred thousand is nearer the truth. That would be much more realistic. Yes one hundred thousand dollars per acre,” he pronounced smugly. “Perhaps it might be a little higher. Not much though, just a fraction. Not as high as you suggest. Even then it would depend upon the quality of the land. Was it hilly, or flat, where was it located? How large, that sort of thing.” He thought for a few more moments. “Let’s say one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. Maybe, one hundred and thirty thousand dollars tops. I don’t think that it would be anymore than that. In fact I’m sure that it wouldn’t be. I’d certainly be satisfied with that anyway. Wouldn’t you Frank?”

  Reynolds was beginning to get edgy, nervous. The palms of his hands were beginning to sweat. He began to fidget, tapping his fingers on the desk in front of him. What was this all about he wondered. Much more of this nonsense and I’ll be ready to agree to anything, especially if it meant finalizing this ridiculous conversation.

  “Frank, are you with me?” Duncan called out sharply. “You must pay attention. I asked if you would be satisfied with one hundred and thirty thousand dollars. After all it’s a lot less than you said.”

  “Yes, yes. I suppose that sounds about right, if you say so,” Reynolds replied agitatedly. “I agree, all right. It’s fine with me. No problem. Let’s say one hundred and thirty thousand dollars. Whatever you say, you are absolutely right, so now what?”

  Duncan remained silent for a moment. He looked at Reynolds, as the tapping of his fingers became faster and faster. Of course he was right. He was always right. “Now you’re not just saying that are you Frank? I don’t want you just agreeing with me for the sake of it. I mean you are really sure, aren’t you?” Reynolds said nothing. Duncan turned around. “Good. Now let us just suppose, for a moment or two, that the land was actually re-zoned for some kind of major development. What do you think the effect would be with regard to the value then?”

  Reynolds was becoming more and more exasperated. More and more impatient, more and more agitated. “But Ian, what does it matter?” he asked. “The zoning is set. It was established several years ago. Set down by the relevant committee, following a strict laid down procedure, subject to no end of rules and regulations. It has been ratified by the County, and by the State. It is now part of the overall plan for the State. The land is zoned agricultural, and that’s that, subject closed, conversation over.”

  “Frank, don’t you think I know all that,” Duncan replied. “What do you take me for? Of course I know. I agree with you, every single word. You’re right, absolutely right. The zoning is set, sure. No argument. Cast in stone.”

  Reynolds heaved a sigh of relief, and started to relax. At last, it was finished. It was coming to an end, and not a moment before time. Then suddenly, to Reynolds’ horror, Duncan was speaking once again. “But just for a moment, let us imagine that the zoning has been changed,” he said.

  Reynolds knew that it wasn’t over, not yet, not by a long way. He raised his hand, and opened his mouth, ready to protest once again. Duncan held a finger to his mouth, and shook his head dismissively. “Bear with me, Frank. Just for a moment or two. Please, for the sake of argument and further discussion. Let’s just say that it is now, what shall it be? Let’s say Commercial land, shall we? No, no. It is now zoned, Residential.” He paused for a moment. “Yes, Residential,” he confirmed, satisfied.

  “What do you think the land would be worth in that event, Frank?” Duncan asked casually a moment or two later. “I mean per acre.”

  Reynolds was becoming agitated once more, and increasingly bored with this whole conversation. It was going nowhere. It was a meaningless exercise, a pointless waste of valuable time. “Ian, it is a hypothetical question, which, in reality, does not arise. The answer doesn’t matter. It has no meaning. Any answer would be irrelevant. Why do you insist on going on with this, this ridiculous farce,” he said. “The zoning is set, I keep telling you. It is Agriculture. Not Residential, not Commercial, or Industrial. Or anything else you could imagine. It’s Agriculture, and that is that. So, really there is no point in discussing it any further, is there?”

  “Frank, Frank, I know what you are saying. I hear you, every word. I understand fully. The zoning is set, end of story,” said Duncan. “But just humor me will you, Frank? Just for a moment or two, please. Indulge me.” He held up his hands, palms outstretched. “Just to please little old me, that’s all, for no other reason, except to make me happy.” He looked down, his head lying to one side. “You would do that wouldn’t you? For me?”

  Reynolds was trapped. What could he do? He knew that he had to go along with Duncan. How could he possibly refuse? “Okay, I’ll humor you, although I can’t think why.” He looked at his watch again. There was now a little over forty minutes before his meeting. “Ian, I really don’t have the time for this.” Duncan looked at him hard, and raised his eyebrows slightly. Reynolds knew that Duncan was not going to give up. He knew that once Duncan had started something he would not stop until he was good and ready. There was no possibility of stopping him. Reynolds knew when he was beaten.

  At least if I go along with him we might get this finished quicker. “All right, you win,” he said. “The value would certainly shoot up,” he said quickly. Any fool knew that. You didn’t need to be some kind of financial genius, or a monetary wizard. It was obvious. It wasn’t rocket science, or brain surgery. “It would go up by maybe three or four hundred per cent, I imagine,” Reynolds said resigned. “So what’s your point?”

  “Three or four hundred per cent,” Duncan repeated, once again dismissing Reynolds question. “You know, I would say it would be a lot higher than that, much higher. In fact I would expect the value to increase by at least seven or eight times.” He paused, and started to count on his figures. “I would guess the increased value to be somewhere in the region of one million dollars per acre.” Reynolds gasped audibly, but said nothing. “And that doesn’t include for the value of any of the actual properties that would be constructed, or any rental income that might be generated.”

  Duncan stood up and slowly walked over to the large-scale map of the State, which was fixed to the far wall. “The whole thing would be worth hundreds of millions,” he said. He continued to stare at the map. “Ah, there it is, Rosemont Valley.” He turned from the map and faced Reynolds once again. “Have you ever been there, Frank? It’s a lovely spot.”

  Reynolds shook his head. He had never been there. Duncan looked back at the map. “I used to live there,
you know, when I was a boy. It was great then. We would go fishing down at the creek, mainly catfish, if they were biting. Then we would go camping up at the Ridges. Have you ever been camping, Frank? What days they were.”

  What was this all about, Reynolds wondered. Duncan was not in the habit of talking just for the sake of it. He always had some purpose in mind, some goal to aim for. He never said anything without a good reason. Reynolds said nothing, and merely waited.

  “Supposing that we knew of a company that could carry out that development,” Duncan continued wistfully.

  Reynolds was stunned. Supposing that we knew of a company? Of course we know of such a company. Duncan Construction could do it, easily. There’s no need to suppose. He said nothing, waiting to see exactly what Duncan was driving at.

  Duncan saw the look on Reynolds eyes. “Can you imagine that, Frank? I mean to actually do the whole construction. Firstly, planning the project, then to prepare the designs, and finally to build it. What a project that would be, eh. It would be a massive undertaking. Just think of the excitement, the thrill of it. Watching it all unfold. That would certainly get the adrenalin flowing. Then, of course, there would be the rewards. Vast rewards. The Company would make a fortune wouldn’t it?”

  Once again Reynolds wondered what this was leading up to. What was going on inside Duncan’s head? “Ian, what’s the point of all this?” he asked. “We both know that it’s not going to happen. It couldn’t possibly happen. So why are you going on about it?”

  Duncan looked back at the map. He then turned to face Reynolds. “Frank, Frank, of course it isn’t going to happen. You know that. And I know it. As you say, how could it? Although it would really be something wouldn’t it? You have to admit that. What a scheme.”

  Duncan then turned and slowly walked back to the map. “However, the zoning is set, and that can’t be changed sadly. You said so yourself. It’s only idle conversation. It’s nothing more than that. It is just conversation that’s all, wishful thinking, perhaps.”

  Wishful thinking? Reynolds knew differently. There was no way that was all there was to it. Duncan never wasted his time with idle talk, and wishful thinking. There was always a purpose to everything that he said or did. There was always a precise reason. “Ian, I know you better than that,” he said. “You are planning something. I don’t know what it is, but you have something in mind. What is going on? Come on out with it.”

  Duncan turned to face Reynolds. He looked down at the floor, and started to shuffle his feet, as though a young child. “All right, I’ll come clean. You’ve seen through my little game. I can’t pull the wool over your eyes, can I Frank?” he said, and laughed. “I never could. You were always far too smart for me, much too clever for little old me. I could never keep anything from you. You could always read me like a book. Any little secret I had, you would find it out.”

  He remained silent for a few moments, waiting for a response. None came. He looked up. No matter. “It seems that you have found me out once again.” He paused for a moment. “For the purpose of further discussion, let us suppose that a bill was passed, at the State legislature,” he continued. “A bill changing the zoning designation, a simple piece of law making, that’s all. Just a simple little document, with a few well-chosen legal terms and phrases, your signature at the bottom, and it would all be done. Something the Governor could achieve quite easily.”

  Duncan looked back towards the map. “Say, a little expansion of the town. That would be good. Perhaps one or two of those out of town developments, maybe a shopping mall, or some luxury residential estates. That sounds good to me.” He paused, and looked over at Reynolds. “You know the type I mean, the ones with the security gates, and the swimming pools.” There was still no response from Reynolds, who continued to sit impassively. Duncan waited a little longer, and then continued. “Maybe a little industrial area, or perhaps a commercial center.” He paused once again. “You know, I’ve always liked the idea of an Industrial Park, or a Business Center.” He started to walk back towards Reynolds. “The Duncan Center, or maybe the Reynolds Business Park. That sounds real good to me, what do you think Frank?”

  Reynolds stopped tapping his fingers. He now had his answer. He now knew what this was all about. He now knew the worst. He had known that Duncan had some idea in mind, but he never dreamt that it would be anything quite like this. This was major league. This was serious. This was out and out fraud; fraud on a grand scale. He was worried, deeply troubled. What Duncan wanted from Reynolds was obviously highly illegal. More importantly it was he who would be taking the biggest risk. It would be him who was sticking his neck out. It would be his signature on the documentation.

  He wanted no part of it. That’s what he had told Duncan.

  “You’re crazy, Ian. I couldn’t just do something like that. It doesn’t work that way, anyhow,” Reynolds protested. “I would need a reason to change the zoning, a good reason at that. And I would need to get it through the land committee, and a hundred and one other bodies. It can’t be done. I’m sorry I just won’t do it.”

  Duncan waved his hand, casually, ignoring Reynolds objections. “We’ll think of a reason,” he said. “A reason no one would dream of arguing against.” He stopped and walked back to where Reynolds was seated. “As for the Committee members, you just leave them to me,” he said. “You know, Frank, everyone has a price. You just need to find out the right amount.”

  Reynolds was stunned. Duncan really meant this. It wasn’t just idle talk. He really intended to carry this out. It was a definite plan. Still Reynolds could not believe it. Still he hoped that he could find a way out. “Why should anyone want to sell out to us, anyway?” Reynolds asked.

  “Simple, we offer them a fair price,” Duncan replied. “As they say we make them an offer that they cannot possibly refuse.”

  Reynolds suddenly felt very cold. “But what if they refuse, and do turn the offer down,” he said. “What do you do then?”

  “Then, we persuade them”, Duncan replied. “As a first step, we already have the compound set up, thanks to you Frank.”

  Reynolds looked up and remembered. Duncan had wanted a small site established, a so-called Government restricted site. He didn’t know the purpose of the site but he had gone along with it. A research facility, Duncan had said.

  “When I’m ready,” Duncan continued. He stopped, and looked directly at Reynolds. He held his hands out. “When we are ready, the true purpose of that site will be made known.” Duncan paused again. He moved closer to Reynolds. “Then they will sell, make no mistake about that.”

  Reynolds was far from convinced. Duncan was making it sound easy, but it wouldn’t be easy. In fact, it just couldn’t work. “If your plan went wrong, and we were found out, I would be the one in the firing line. It would be me who would go to prison, and they would throw the key away. I won’t do it, and that’s final.”

  Duncan looked directly into Reynolds eyes. “Frank,” he said very quietly. “If you don’t do as I ask, you will go to prison. Either way, it’s your decision.”

  Reynolds was puzzled. Why should he go to prison? He hadn’t done anything. “What do you mean, Ian?” he asked nervously.

  Duncan put his hands together, and flexed his fingers two or three times. He took another drink. “Frank, do you remember those letters you gave me a few weeks ago?” He waited for a response. None came. “You were being blackmailed at the time, remember?” Reynolds was beginning to look worried, ill at ease. “I offered to help you didn’t I?” Duncan took another drink, draining the glass. He slowly put the glass down. “In fact I seem to recall that I gave you a check. A rather large check, if my memory serves correctly.”

  Reynolds remembered very well. He started to sweat. What was Duncan up to? He did not like the direction this conversation was taking. “I remember the check, and I remember the letters,” he said. “What about them?”

  Duncan unclenched his hands, and turned to face Reynolds. “I still
have them. They make very interesting reading.”

  Reynolds leapt forward. “You can’t possibly have them. You gave them back to me,” he shouted. “I destroyed them. I burnt everything. The letters, the photographs, they were all destroyed. I saw them burn.”

  “Frank, take it easy, do try to keep calm.” Duncan said soothingly. “It’s quite simple really, there’s no big mystery.” He paused for effect watching Reynolds the whole time. “I made copies of them that’s all. I just thought that one day they might come in handy.”

  “They might come in handy,” Reynolds repeated. What precisely did that mean? He could not believe what he had just heard. “You made copies?” he stammered. “I can’t believe it, Ian. You’re not making any sense.” He suddenly felt very hot, and short of breath. What was happening? “Why would you want copies?” he asked.

  “Control, Frank,” Duncan replied quite simply. “Control, that’s all. You know what I’m like.”

  Reynolds was slowly beginning to understand what was happening. The pieces were beginning to fall into place. The blackmail letters, Ian’s offer of help, the large check, they had all been part of an elaborate plot to gain some kind of hold over him. Some kind of control, as Duncan had said. Duncan had been the blackmailer all along. There had been no one else. There had never been anyone else.

  Reynolds was now finding it very difficult to breathe. He was sweating. He could feel a tingling sensation through his hands. He loosened his tie, and sat back in his seat, his head hung down. He was having difficulty in taking it all in. It couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t be. He looked up at Duncan, and he knew in that instance that it was indeed true.

  He looked down. “You were the blackmailer weren’t you?” he said very slowly and quietly, almost speaking to himself. Then he looked towards Duncan once again. “There was never anyone else was there?”

  Duncan said nothing, continuing to sit impassively, watching every move Reynolds made.

  Reynolds started to laugh. “No wonder you were able to help me, what a fool I was. No wonder you were so quick, so efficient. I never guessed. Never in my wildest imagination did I think. It never dawned on me.” He looked at Duncan. “What a joke, and what a real friend you really are. You were good, very good. I never suspected a thing. You really took me in. You must have thought what an idiot I was. What a clown.”