Kendall - Private Detective - Box Set

by John Holt

  “Have you an appointment? No. Then I’m very sorry Mr. Duncan cannot see you. Can you come back tomorrow?”

  What happens if I go to his office, and he’s actually at his apartment? Or I go to his apartment, and he’s at home? Reluctantly Kendall had to admit that he had no choice, and that he needed to make an appointment. He sat down and reached across the desk for the telephone. He lifted the handset, and dialed the number.

  * * *

  Surprisingly Duncan had been most gracious, and co-operative. “Certainly Mr. Kendall,” he had said. “I would be more than delighted to see you once again.”

  “That’s very good of you sir,” Kendall replied. “I apologize for the short notice.”

  “No problem,” Duncan said. “That’s perfectly all right. Come along to the office, this morning, right now, if you like.”

  “I’ll be there within the hour,” Kendall replied.

  “Good,” Duncan said. “I look forward to seeing you then.”

  Kendall started to thank him once again, but Duncan had already gone. Kendall replaced the handset. Something wasn’t quite right. Why was Duncan so co-operative? Why was he so willing to see him, especially at such short notice? What was he going to say anyway? It was all right to take Duncan by surprise, but Kendall realized that he wasn’t exactly ready himself.

  “Ready or not,” he murmured. “I’ll have to go, and make the best of it.”

  He stood up and walked to the door. He left the room, closing the door behind him. He walked down the stairs trying to plan what he was going to say to Duncan. He reached the bottom of the staircase, still unsure of his plans.

  As he came out of the building he looked up at the sky. There wasn’t a cloud to be seen. It was going to be a good day. Yes there was a slight breeze from the west, but nothing much. Not enough to spoil the day. “Yes it was certainly going to be a good day, in more ways than one,” he mumbled. It was going to be a hot one, and he was going to get some information out of Duncan, even if it killed him. A very poor phrase, in the circumstances.

  * * *

  As he walked along the footway, he didn’t see the black BMW drive past, stopping a few yards ahead of him. As Kendall drew near, the nearside door opened, and a man stepped out, blocking Kendall’s path. Kendall stopped for a moment, and then tried to walk past. The man thrust a gun into Kendall’s side.

  “Turn around Kendall,” he said, pushing him hard in the side. Kendall glanced up at the sky once again. It was still sunny, but now there were a few clouds forming. Maybe it wasn’t going to be such a good day after all, he murmured, as he felt the gun hit his ribs. “Turn around,” the man repeated. Kendall did as he had been instructed. As he did so he saw the outstretched arm of the driver, draped over the back of the seat. It was holding a gun, and it was aimed directly at him.

  For a brief moment Kendall thought of escaping. Surely they would not shoot him here, out in the open, in broad daylight. All thoughts of escape quickly evaporated with the sudden pain of a rope being tightly wrapped around his wrists. Then he felt the blindfold being tied across his eyes. “Get in, Mr. Kendall,” the first man ordered.

  “Where are you taking me?” Kendall asked, although he never really expected an answer.

  “We’re just going for a little ride together,” the man replied.

  Somebody had been watching too many old gangster movies. It was something that would have been said by James Cagney, or Humphrey Bogart, or Edward G Robinson. He could visualize Bogart being pushed into the back of the car, by Edward G, a gun hard against his rib cage. But it wasn’t Edward G who had just pushed him, and it wasn’t James Cagney in the driver’s seat. This was no game. It wasn’t a movie. This was really happening. They were real guns, with real bullets.

  “We are going on a little mystery trip, Kendall,” the man continued. “It’s a surprise, now get in the car.”

  Kendall felt himself being pushed down, and into the back seat of the car. The man got in beside him, and the car door slammed closed. Once again Kendall felt the hard steel of the gun pressed into his side. The man leaned forward, and tapped the driver on the shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said. The driver put the car into gear, signaled, pulled out and sped away.

  “You know Kendall,” one of the men said. “That was quite some fancy driving you did the other day. You certainly gave our friends quite a ride, did a lot of damage as well.” He started to laugh. Kendall said nothing. The old Ford had done him proud. “But you won’t get away so easily this time,” the man continued.

  Still Kendall said nothing and merely concentrated hard. He thought that it was essential that he try to keep track on where he was being taken. He merely had to memorize any significant sound, or smell, during the journey that might have helped tell him where he was, and where he had been taken. He had once seen that done in a movie. It shouldn’t be too difficult.

  It was not long after that Kendall heard the unmistakable noise of a railroad engine, and the clanking of carriages on a track. They were passing the old goods yard. Kendall felt pleased with himself. They were heading out of town, towards the north-west.

  * * *

  The journey continued mainly in silence for about an hour. For much of the time they had been travelling on narrow country lanes. They had driven quite slowly, and the roads twisted and turned considerably. There had been no distinctive sounds, or smells for some while, except for the smell of gas fumes, and burning rubber. Both of which were coming from the car that he was travelling in. The only sound he could hear was the heavy rain hitting the car roof. Kendall finally had to admit that he had no idea as to where he was.

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes later Kendall could hear the sound of tires crunching over gravel as the car began to slow down, gradually coming to a stop. He heard the sound of the hand brake as it was applied. Then the engine was switched off. For a moment or two the only sound that Kendall heard was the heavy rainfall, the rustle of the leaves on the trees, and the thumping of his heart beating. Then he heard the sound of the front door of the car opening, and then being slammed shut. He then heard the rear door open. At the same time the man sitting next to him pushed him hard. “Get out,” he ordered. “Move.”

  Once out of the car Kendall was led over to a large timber barn. He was pushed inside, and he heard a light switch being pressed, and then the doors being closed. He felt someone at his back. Whoever it was began tugging on the ropes around his wrists.

  “Not too tight I hope, Kendall,” a voice said, as the ropes were pulled tighter. “That’ll hold him,” the voice continued.

  Kendall could then feel the blindfold being loosened, and then finally removed. The harsh light from the overhead bulb hit him. He quickly turned away, blinking several times. He was then pushed further into the barn. He stumbled, and fell heavily on to the floor. As he did so the two men moved in closer.

  “Okay Mr. Kendall,” the younger of the two men said. “Our little joy ride is over. Let’s get down to business shall we?”

  Kendall struggled and sat up. He blinked his eyes a few more times, gradually getting used to the light. He looked up, and suddenly recognized the man. It was the man in the photograph, the man Clancy had seen up at the compound. It was the same man that he had seen at the bar the other day with Cole.

  The older man pushed forward. It was the car driver. “You’ve been very busy lately, Kendall, asking a lot of questions.” Kendall said nothing, and continued to look down at the ground. The man raised his hand and slapped Kendall hard across the cheek. A small droplet of blood started to form. Kendall looked up and moved his body forward. “Kendall, we’re talking to you,” the younger man continued. “I suggest you listen, and listen good.”

  “We want some answers,” the older man this time. “And we want them now.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about. What answers?” Another hard crack landed on Kendall’s jaw. Blood started to run from the corner of his mouth. He fell onto his si
de. His elbow struck something hard, causing a sharp pain to run up his arm. The younger man immediately pulled him back upright, and hit him on the opposite cheek.

  “Kendall, you can either have it the hard way, or the easy way”, he said. “I don’t really care it makes no difference to me.” He stopped and stared at Kendall menacingly. “Either way you are going to tell me everything you know, you are also going to tell me who else knows.”

  Kendall said nothing. The younger man walked back to where Kendall was slumped. He hit him hard on the back of the neck, and then pushed him down. The older man stepped forward. “That’s enough”, he said to his companion, placing his hand on the other man’s arm. Then he turned towards Kendall. “You know Mr. Kendall,” he said quietly, gently. “We don’t like all of this rough stuff. It grieves us. It is so unlike us. It’s against our nature. Deep down we are really quite gentle people, peace loving, you know.”

  “Yes that’s right,” said the younger man. “We just want some information, that’s all.” He started to laugh. “We aren’t fixing to hurt you.”

  Oh sure, you wouldn’t hurt a fly would you? Gentle as a newborn baby aren’t you? I don’t think. They are just going to kill me as sure as eggs is eggs.

  “Mr. Kendall,” the older man continued. “I’ve been told to do a deal with you. How much is the old lady paying you?” he asked casually, taking Kendall by surprise.

  “Old lady?” Kendall queried. “What old lady?”

  “What old lady, he asks,” the young man replied, and started to laugh. “Mrs. Shaw, that old lady, we know that you are working for the Shaw’s.”

  Suddenly Kendall’s ears pricked up. Apart from the Shaw’s only two other people knew that he was working for them, Mollie and Ian Duncan. There was no way that these guys were working for Mollie, so it had to be Duncan. Up until that moment Kendall hadn’t really been sure of anything. Yes he had his suspicions, his theories. But now he was sure.

  The young man continued. “How much are they paying you?” he asked casually. “A hundred thousand dollars? More? Maybe one hundred and fifty?”

  Kendall thought of the fee that had been agreed, twenty-five thousand dollars. “Something like that,” he replied nonchalantly. “You’re pretty close, how did you know?”

  The man ignored the question. He walked over to the doorway. He picked up a briefcase and returned to where Kendall was sitting. He placed the briefcase on the ground, and flipped the two catches. “Peanuts,” he said. “Chicken feed.” He was still holding the catches. He looked at Kendall. “I’m surprised at you. You’re an intelligent man, Kendall. You can do better than that. A whole lot better.” As he spoke he opened the case. “Mr. Kendall you see before you two million dollars, two million in used notes.”

  He picked up two bundles of bank notes, and held them out for Kendall to see. “Now ain’t that a pretty sight, and all perfectly legal and the genuine article.” Kendall let out a low whistle. The man looked at him and smiled. “It’s all yours Mr. Kendall, tax free,” he said, as he returned the money to the case. He looked at his partner, and then he looked back to the case. “All you have to do is just tell us everything you know, and then agree to forget all about it.” He quickly closed the case, and stood up holding the case in his hand. He looked back at Kendall. “Now, just tell me everything you know, in your own time.”

  “But be quick about it,” the older man interjected glaring at the younger man. “We haven’t got all day.”

  Kendall said nothing. He smiled, and looked up at the two men. I tell them everything I know, they give me two million, we exchange addresses shake hands, and promise to meet again same time, same place next year. In the meantime we send each other cards at Thanksgiving, and Christmas. All nice and friendly like. Then he started to laugh.

  The elder man raised his fist once again ready to strike. The younger man stopped him. “What’s so funny?” he demanded to know, as he pushed the young man to one side, and a crashing blow hit Kendall on the side of the head, knocking him on to his side once again.

  Kendall tried to sit up but could not. Things were beginning to look decidedly bleak. What did he know, anyway? When you came right down to it, he actually knew nothing, nothing at all. Not for certain that is. Yes he had his suspicions. Yes he had a few ideas, a hunch or two. Yes he had a definite feeling, but there was nothing concrete, nothing that he could really use. There was no real evidence. It was just supposition, nothing more.

  The elder man hit him again, and he hit the ground hard once more. Blood started to flow from a deep gash to the head. The younger man leaned forward and pulled him up. “Okay Kendall,” he said. “That’s enough. Now talk.”

  Kendall realized that as long as he said nothing he was safe. They had no intention of killing him until he told them everything. Certainly they would knock him around a little, probably hurt him quite badly, but they would not kill him.

  “We’re waiting,” the elder man said, raising his arm once again. Kendall ducked waiting for the blow. It never came. After a few seconds he cautiously raised his head. He said nothing, and just shook his head.

  “Enough,” shouted the younger man. “Quit stalling Kendall. You better start talking, and fast.” Kendall shook his head once again.

  The two men were now becoming more and more impatient. Obviously they were not going to get very far with him, not for the time being. The younger man stood up, and walked a short distance away. He signaled to the other man, to join him. “Let’s leave him here for a while,” the younger man suggested. “Let him sweat for a while. We’ll try again tomorrow. The lack of food and water might loosen his tongue a little.”

  “Maybe,” said the other man. “That’s fine with me.”

  “We’re going to leave you for a little while,” the younger man said. “Give you some breathing space, a little time to yourself, a little time to think. So you can concentrate better. Think things over. If you know what I mean.”

  The older man walked over, and bent down. He lifted Kendall’s chin high, causing his neck to arch painfully. “We’ll be back in the morning, bright and early. We shall want some answers then or …”

  He left the words unsaid. He let go of Kendall’s jaw, and stood up. The two men started to walk towards the doorway. “Just think about it, Kendall,” the man called out.

  As they reached the door the young man flicked the light switch off, and walked out. The elder man stopped at the door and turned to face Kendall. “By the way Kendall,” he said. “Your secretary is a good looking girl ain’t she? Be a great pity if anything bad was to happen to her wouldn’t it?”

  Kendall tried to stand, but fell back down. The elder man laughed. He then quickly turned, and left the barn, locking the door securely after him. A few minutes later, Kendall heard the car doors slam and the car drive away.

  He lay there listening until he could no longer hear the drone of the car engine. “They’ve gone,” he murmured, as he sat up. “But they will be back, then what?” He did not need to be told the answer to that question. He already knew. “All I have to do,” Kendall said to himself. “Is tell them everything I know, and who else knows.” It was simple enough. He actually knew very little, and had told nobody. “Then they hand me two million dollars, and I just forget everything.”

  He could certainly use the two million dollars. No doubt about that. That really would change quite a lot in his life. He thought of all of the un-paid bills sitting in the desk drawer. The outstanding rent, the electricity, and, of course there were the parking fines. Yes, two million would make all the difference.

  “Somehow, though, I don’t really think that is their real plan. Pity, it would have been nice,” he said. “But I’ll be quite dead.” He started to laugh, and lay back down.

  Chapter 29

  Kendall Needs A Plan

  So the two men had gone, but Kendall knew that they would be back the following day. Then things would get serious, very serious indeed. He had to be ready for
them. He needed a plan of some kind, and he needed it quick. He struggled to his feet. He had to find the light switch, and then he could investigate his surroundings. He could see shafts of moonlight filtering in between the doors and the frame. He knew that the switch was just to the right of those doors.

  Slowly he made his way around the sides of the barn, stumbling as he went. He pressed up against the nearby wall and started to feel around for the light switch. A few minutes later he found the switch. He flipped it on. The dull glare came from a single bare bulb in the center of the barn.

  So far so good, now to get these ropes untied. He glanced around at the barn walls. Then he saw what he was looking for, a rusty nail protruding from one of the timber columns. He walked over to the column. The nail was higher than he would have liked, but he had no choice. He turned his back towards the nail, and raised his arms behind him. After several attempts he managed to hook the rope on to the nail. He then started to slowly rub the rope along the nail. After a few minutes he could smell the rope burning. He could feel the heat on his wrists. He stopped rubbing, and remained suspended for a while. His shoulders were hurting quite badly, and his arms seemed to have come out of their sockets.

  The sooner this was finished with the better. He started rubbing again. The burning started once more. Suddenly the rope gave way, and he fell forward. He stumbled, and lost his balance, and fell to the ground. He rolled over and brought his arms forward, and flexed his shoulders two or three times. He lay there for a few minutes, breathing hard. Gradually, the pain in the shoulders subsided, and his arms slowly returned to normal.

  He stood up and walked to the doorway, and looked through the crack. He could see nothing. He leaned against the door and pushed. It held fast. He pushed once again, harder this time. It was securely locked, and there was no way he could open it. He turned, and looked at his surroundings. As far as he could see there was no other door, and all of the windows, apart from two small windows high up in the gables, appeared to be boarded. He was not going to get out in a hurry.