by John Holt
“It’s nearer ten,” Kendall corrected her. He thought for a few moments. “Another two months and it will be ten years exactly.”
“And before that you were with the New York Police Department I believe.”
“That’s right. Ten years, once again,” Kendall replied. “I always find it easier to count in tens.” Mollie looked at him from the doorway to the kitchen area and glared.
“And before that you were in Brook Street School on the east side,” Eve Simmonds continued.
“It was on the west side, actually.” Kendall corrected her. “A bit rough, and not very fancy, I’m afraid. But it didn’t do me much harm.” He paused for a moment looking at her. Suddenly he thought of Miss Lacey, his teacher. He shrugged his shoulders. She was small, but she was tough, he remembered. “Discipline you see, that’s the answer, discipline. You don’t get that now.” She was now much more relaxed, and all signs of tears had disappeared. “You seem to know a lot about me.”
“I make it my business to know everything I can about people that I plan to employ,” she replied. She paused for a few moments and looked around the office. She nodded in approval, and then turned back to face Kendall. “Nice office,” she said.
Kendall smiled and nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “We like it.” Mollie popped her head around the kitchen door and glared at him once again. He glared back. “It’s simple, but its home.”
She smiled. “You don’t look much like your picture,” she said. Kendall said nothing. “Anyway after finding everything that I could on the Internet I merely looked you up in Yellow Pages,” she continued. “I didn’t know whether you had a web page or not. But I was pleasantly surprised to see that you had an office right here in Miami.”
Kendall made a mental note to investigate the possibility of a web page at the earliest opportunity. He nodded. “We have only been here for about two months,” he said. “So here we are then.”
She smiled. “As you say here we are.”
“Yes here we are then,” said Mollie sarcastically, as she returned with the coffee.
Kendall looked away. “Ah the coffee, at last,” he said. He looked at Mollie and smiled. “Please help yourself to the biscuits Mrs. Simmonds.” He picked up a biscuit and dunked it into his coffee. “You were saying,” he said, and then commenced chewing on the biscuit.
“As I said, my name is Eve Simmonds. My father is Robert Bradley. You may have heard of him.” She paused waiting for a reaction. Kendall had never heard of Mr. Robert Bradley. He shook his head, and proceeded to dunk another biscuit into his coffee. Eve looked over at Mollie. Mollie had never heard of Robert Bradley either.
Eve looked back at Kendall. “No matter,” she continued. “He is in transportation, railroads mainly, but also shipping. Freight that kind of thing.”
* * *
Chapter Four
The Ransom Note
Ten minutes later she had told him the whole story. It wasn’t much. Her husband had apparently gone to Chicago on a business trip. “He was actually booked in to stay at the Grant Hotel.” She looked down at the floor for a few moments. Then she looked back at Kendall. “That was two weeks ago,” she explained. It had been planned some weeks before. He was to be away for two days, three at the most. “He had a number of business meetings arranged.” She had actually taken him to the airport. She had seen him go through the departure gate. She had seen his plane take off, on time. But he never arrived in Chicago. According to the airline authorities he hadn’t even boarded the plane. So where was he?
“He was going away on business, correct?” said Kendall. She said nothing but nodded. “Have you contacted the business associates he was going to meet?” he asked.
She paused for a few moments, unsure, hesitant. She nodded her head. “Yes I have,” she replied. “I checked with all of them.” She paused once again. “Strangely enough none of them were actually expecting him. None of them knew that he was coming. I just don’t understand it.”
Neither did Kendall. He picked up another chocolate biscuit and dunked it in the coffee. “Why not go to the police?” he asked. “I mean they are good at that sort of thing. Missing persons I mean. They have the experience, and of course they have the advantage of being able to speak directly with the police in Chicago.”
She shook her head, and reached inside her handbag. She withdrew her handkerchief, and began dabbing her eyes once more. It was a touching sight, the sad wife, worried about her husband. Very touching or at least it would have been were it not for the fact that she was putting on an act. Something wasn’t quite right.
Kendall reached across the desk and patted her arm gently. “It’ll be all right,” he said. “You’ll see.” She looked up at him and smiled. “That’s better,” Kendall said. “Now, why not go straight to the police? As I said they are usually pretty good at this sort of thing.”
“I’m sure that they are, Mr. Kendall,” she replied. “In fact I know that they are, but if the police become involved the story will be all over the newspapers. I don’t want that. I come from a very wealthy influential family you understand.” Kendall did not understand at all. Nonetheless he nodded wisely. “The publicity could be damaging.” Kendall was even more mystified, but again he nodded wisely, and said nothing. “There’s also another reason,” she said. “I have been instructed not to go anywhere near the police, or my husband will be killed.”
Kendall looked up. He had not expected that. Clearly this was not a straightforward case of a missing husband. At least it wasn’t like any that he could remember. “Oh, who gave you that instruction?” he asked.
“Mr. Kendall, I believe that my husband has been kidnapped and he is being held for ransom,” she replied.
“Why do you say that?” Kendall asked.
She reached into her handbag and withdrew a small bundle of envelopes. She opened the envelopes and took out the documents they contained. “I received these letters,” she said. She slowly handed them to Kendall one by one. As he took hold he quickly glanced through them. Document one was received two days ago. “We have your husband,” he read. “Do not inform the police.” Document two had been received later that same day. “We want two hundred thousand dollars for his release.” Kendall held out his hand for the next one. He looked up. She had hesitated, and was still holding it. She was looking at the document staring hard. She suddenly shook her head. “Oh I’m sorry,” she said as she noticed Kendall’s outstretched hand. Kendall looked at her and then looked across at Mollie. Mollie looked puzzled. She had noticed Mrs. Simmonds’ hesitancy. She had also noticed the look on her face. She looked at her once again. That look had now disappeared.
“I received this one yesterday morning,” she said as she handed the document to Kendall. Kendall read through the documents slowly. It was clear that Simmonds was being held by person or persons unknown. It was also clear that there were no clues as to where he was being held, although all of the letters had been posted from New York. The last letter gave details as to where and when the money was to be paid over.
“So let’s be absolutely clear shall we,” Kendall said. “Your husband isn’t exactly missing, as such, is he?” Kendall looked at his visitor for a moment, and then returned his gaze to the letter in his hand. “He has been kidnapped, and is being held against his will. That’s what you think, correct?” She nodded, and dabbed her eyes once more. Kendall remained silent for a few minutes, thinking hard. “You say that he is a wealthy man,” Kendall continued. “What line of work is your husband in?
“Let us just say that he is a businessman shall we?” She replied. “He works for my father, and controls several of his companies.”
Kendall nodded. Nice work if you can get it, he murmured. Mind you, would I want to work for my father-in-law, even if I had one? No, he didn’t think he would. He glanced at the blackmail notes once again. “All posted from New York,” he murmured. He placed the three letters together and started to tap them on his desk. “Ha
ve you any idea as to who the kidnappers might be?” Kendall asked. “Could it be a business rival?”
“I don’t know Mr. Kendall,” she replied. “It could be. My husband also had many enemies. It goes with the territory I suppose. In the world of big business, some people get hurt, especially, the smaller fish. It’s not very nice, but it’s just one of those things. It happens.” Well it shouldn’t happen, Kendall thought, but he kept his lips sealed. She paused once again. “Of course it could just be someone trying to extort money, a very large sum of money.”
That was certainly true, thought Kendall. It was, of course, also quite possible for business rivals to be involved. The only problem with that idea was that Simmonds would have known them, and they could have easily been identified later. No, it was more likely that it was a stranger, just out to get as much cash as he, or she, could get. It was all speculation, and far too early to come to a conclusion.
“Can I hang on to these for a while?” he asked as he held the letters in the air. He looked at the letters once again, turning them over and over in his hands, as though some clue would suddenly become dislodged and fall conveniently on to the desk. It didn’t. The first two letters gave nothing away, apart from the fact that they had been posted in New York. It seemed a fair bet that that was where Simmonds was being held. But apart from that possibility, there was nothing else that appeared to be at all helpful. The last of the letters, however, was a different matter. This letter contained full instructions as to when and where the money was to be paid. The stipulated time and place presented a slim chance of capturing the kidnapper, or at least identifying them.
Kendall looked down at the calendar on his desk. “We have three days,” he said. He opened his diary to the appropriate page. He wrote down the time, and place. “Three days before the payment is to be made,” he said. “That leaves very little time in which to find him, but we’ll see.”
Deep down he knew that the possibility of finding him was extremely remote. The kidnappers, whoever they were, would keep him well hidden until they were ready to release him, and only when the money had been paid over. No, the best chance was to go along with the pay off, and hope that something came from it. Perhaps they would slip up, make a mistake maybe, leave a clue. Who knows, Kendall thought hopefully. In the meantime Kendall would do some old fashion detective work. You never knew what that might turn up. A few questions in the right places, might work. “I shall want to see everything about your husband,” he announced. “His social security number, his bank account details, credit cards, the key to his safety deposit box; everything.” Why he should want everything was something of a mystery, but nonetheless, it sounded good. It sounded Professional, solid, reliable, as though he knew what he was talking about.
“I shall also want a list of his friends, and his enemies.” He scribbled a note on to his notepad. “And his diary please, that’s both his private diary, and the one for business.” How the diary was going to help was another mystery, but at least he was being thorough. As they used to say, absolutely everything was important, until proved otherwise. “Oh, yes, one more thing,” he continued, as he held up his hand. “A recent photograph would be helpful.”
She nodded. She looked down at the floor for a few moments. Then she looked over towards Mollie, then back to Kendall. “Mr. Kendall,” she said. “I think you should know that my husband and I are not what you might call a loving couple.” She paused, and smiled. “In fact we have not been that way for a year or two now,” she continued. “I am actually planning on getting a divorce. Nonetheless, surprisingly perhaps, I still want my husband found, Mr. Kendall, and found alive.”
Kendall wasn’t sure of the relevance of this latest piece of information, and suspected that it was merely a smoke screen for something, although what that something was, he didn’t have a clue. It probably was of no importance. But then why mention it. “All right Mrs. Simmonds, we’ll see what we can do,” he said. “Incidentally a description of your husband could be useful.”
She smiled. “Of course,” she replied. “Now let me think. He’s thirty-five years old. He’s about five feet seven tall, five eight maybe. Medium build, about one hundred and sixty pounds.” She thought for a few moments. “Grey-green eyes, I think you would describe them, and dark brown hair. It’s quite thick, and wavy.” She stopped and nodded. “I can’t think of anything else,” she continued. “Oh, yes,” she suddenly pronounced. “He has a small mole on the left side of his forehead.” She paused once more, as she indicated the spot on her own forehead. “And there is a nasty scar on his left wrist.” She smiled and nodded her head. “That’s it. I hope that is all right. I’m not very good at this sort of thing I’m afraid.”
Kendall nodded his head. “That’s absolutely fine,” he replied. It was a lot better than most people, he thought. “Just one more thing,” he said.
“Yes,” she said. “What is it?”
“What was he wearing the last time you saw him?” Kendall asked. “That would have been at the airport.”
She thought for a minute or two. “It was a dark blue suit, I think,” she replied. “He prefers dark suits. Lighter shades do not suit him. He was wearing a light blue shirt, and a red tie.” She paused once again. “Striped I think,” she continued. “Blue stripes, red and blue, rather like an old school tie.”
“That’s most helpful,” Kendall replied. “We’ll get right on to it.” Although exactly how he would get right on to it, he had no idea. Where would he start he wondered? He really did not like this kind of a case and should have declined, but he had agreed, why he would never know. Money perhaps? As good a reason as any other.
“As soon as we can,” he continued. “Leave it to me.”
Eve Simmonds looked at him and placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you, I knew that I could rely on you,” she said as he reached inside her handbag and took out her check-book. “We haven’t yet discussed the question of your fees, Mr. Kendall.” She hurriedly wrote something down. She tore the check from the book and handed it to Kendall. “I trust that will be satisfactory,” she said as she stood up ready to take her leave. “Should you require more it can be arranged.”
Kendall glanced at the check. He raised his eyebrows, and smiled. Oh yes, he thought, one hundred thousand dollars would be satisfactory, most satisfactory. He handed the check to Mollie, who glanced at it, and let out a cry of delight. She then placed it inside the top drawer of her desk.
“Thank you Mrs. Simmonds,” Kendall said as he escorted her to the door. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I find anything out.” He paused and held up his hand. “Just one more thing, I think you should arrange for the money, and proceed with the pay off. You know, just in case.” She said nothing. “Let me know when it is all arranged, and we’ll go over the details of making the actual payment.” He looked at her, and smiled. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “Don’t worry we’ll get him back.” One way or another.
She stopped at the open doorway, and turned to face Kendall. “The items that you requested will be delivered to you tomorrow.” With that she swept out of the office and hurried along the corridor to the stairs. Kendall stood watching until she was out of sight.
* * *
Kendall turned around and slowly walked back into the office. He was shaking his head. Something was wrong, or at the very least, things were not exactly as they seemed. He sat down and pulled over a sheet of notepaper, and started to write.
“1. Did he know that she was planning a divorce? 2. Was he in agreement with the plan? 3.Why did she want a divorce?” He paused, thinking hard, his pen poised. Then he started to write once more. “4. Was he playing around?”
As he was writing Mollie stood up and walked around behind him. “Of course he was,” she murmured.
Kendall glared up at her. “Okay, okay,” he said. “You’re probably right.” He struck a line through the question, and laid his pen down. He looked back at her and smiled. “The question though is wheth
er there is any connection between this divorce and these ransom notes.”
“I don’t see how there could be a connection,” Mollie replied. “Unless the blackmailer is Simmonds himself, but of course he couldn’t be could he? He is the one being held against his will.”
“Correct,” he said, as he looked at the paper lying in front of him, and started to tap the desk. He picked up his pen and started to write once again. “I am planning on a divorce. Nonetheless I want my husband found, and found alive.” He underlined both statements. Then he placed a huge question mark on to the paper. It didn’t make any sense.
“She is planning a divorce, and yet she wants to find him,” said Kendall. Why not just be grateful that he had gone? She’d be off the hook. All of her troubles would be over, problem solved. Leave him to the kidnapper, he thought cynically. And good riddance to bad rubbish, that’s what I say. Why pay the ransom? Just keep the money. “I certainly wouldn’t pay up.”
“Sorry,” Mollie spoke up. “Did you say something?”
Kendall looked at her, and shook his head. “It was nothing.”
Mollie looked at him. “Come on now,” she coaxed. “What’s on your mind?”
Kendall looked at the sheet of paper lying I front of him. “She said she was planning a divorce, yes?” He looked towards Mollie. She merely nodded. “Then why bother looking for him? Why bother paying the ransom?”
Mollie smiled. “You are an old cynic aren’t you?”
“Perhaps I am,” Kendall replied. “But maybe I’m also suspicious, and I just don’t entirely trust her.”
“Well perhaps after all was said and done, she still had some regard for him,” Mollie suggested. “She wanted a divorce but she didn’t want any harm to come to him, that’s all. She just didn’t want to see him dead.”