Kendall - Private Detective - Box Set

by John Holt

  Should he go back in, he wondered. He stopped for a moment or two, thinking hard, looking back towards the entrance lobby. Decisions, decisions, he murmured. Should I go back? Shouldn’t I? Yes, no. No, it was too late now. Devaney was probably already hard at work on that Alan Clark case. He wouldn’t be too pleased at being disturbed again. No he would just have to leave it for another day. It would teach him a lesson, anyway. He really must try harder, and concentrate. He slowly walked to the corner of the street, to where his car was parked. It was a lot further away than he remembered. Then he recalled that he had parked it there deliberately. It was all part of his plan to walk more, to get more exercise. He was pleased with himself. His plan had worked quite well. As a result he had walked an extra two hundred yards, one hundred yards each way. That was two hundred paces out of the ten thousand that he was expected to take in a day. Not bad for a start he thought, smiling. He idly wondered how many calories he had burnt. He wished that he had been wearing that special watch, the one that gave details of calories burnt. He had meant to put it on, but he had simply forgotten, hadn’t he. Further proof of approaching senility if any were needed.

  He reached the car just before the rain started. On the opposite corner two men watched closely. As Kendall approached they moved back into the shop doorway. Kendall never saw them. He was still thinking of his conversation with Devaney. He suddenly stopped and looked up. “I never asked about the photographs did I?” he murmured. “My memory is appalling.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Next time.” Kendall started to laugh. “Next time.” He got into his car, and drove away.

  Chapter Nine

  The Pay Off

  Kendall looked at the clock on the wall for the tenth time, in as many minutes. It was a little after twenty past twelve. A whole two minutes had gone by since he had last looked. She was already more than an hour late. In fact it was an hour and twenty minutes to be precise. He looked at the clock once more. Twenty-one minutes past twelve. He had telephoned her apartment several times, there had been no answer. He had left messages on her answering machine. So far there had been no response. He had even sent her an email, with Mollie’s help. There had been no reply.

  He had tried three other places where she had said that she could probably be reached if needed. No they had not seen for a couple of days, they said. “Should she come by I’ll be sure to tell her that you called,” said one. “Give me your number and I’ll get her to call,” said a second. “Who should I say called?” asked a third.

  Kendall had tried her cellphone number. “The service that you are calling is unobtainable” came the reply. “Please try again later.” He double-checked just to be sure that he had dialed the correct number. There was no error, the number was correct. He had even asked the operator to try the number for him. Still there was no answer. He looked at the clock once again. Twenty-three minutes past twelve.

  He stood up and started to pace the floor. Up and down, back and forth. This was not helping. He struck the desk hard with his clenched fists. “Where could she be?” Kendall muttered angrily. Mollie looked up, but said nothing. This was an extremely important day. She knew that. Today was the day for the pay off. The day the ransom money was to be deposited, as instructed by the kidnappers. Kendall had arranged to meet with her at eleven o’clock to go over the details one more time. He checked the wall clock once again. Twelve twenty-seven.

  Six hours, he muttered. Six hours, that’s all the time that was left. In six hours time she was due at the appointed place, with a suitcase full of money. In six hours time she was due to leave that money in the appointed place, and secure the release of her husband. Kendall did not want to think about the possible consequences of her not showing up.

  He was now beginning to get anxious. Something has happened to her, something has gone wrong. But what could have happened? What could have gone wrong? Perhaps she has had another letter from the kidnappers. Perhaps the plans have been changed. It’s all been cancelled. It’s not today after all. It has been re-arranged for another time. Perhaps it’s arranged for tomorrow, or maybe the day after. Perhaps, somehow the kidnappers knew about his visit to the police. Perhaps it had been called off. If any of that was true, she would still have called to let me know, he whispered.

  He started to tap his desk impatiently. Suddenly a slight smile began to spread across his face. Perhaps there was a problem with his telephone, a slight technical hitch perhaps. There had been no calls at all, all day. That was unusual. Perhaps the telephone just wasn’t working. Perhaps the lines were down, he reasoned. That happens when you get hurricanes. Okay, so there hadn’t actually been a hurricane, not to his knowledge any way, but freak winds could happen. That was it, the lines were down, and the telephone was out of order. Perhaps she had tried to call him several times, but just couldn’t get through. Not surprising really.

  He picked up the telephone, and pressed the cradle two or three times, just to check. There, much to his annoyance was the reassuring sound of the dialing tone. He replaced the receiver, and shook his head disappointedly. The smile had now been replaced with a frown. There was nothing wrong with his telephone. It was working perfectly. There had been no freak winds. The lines were not down, obviously. He looked at the clock once again. It was now twelve thirty. She just wasn’t coming, but why? More to the point what about the ransom pay-off. They had discussed the plan at great length. They had arranged to meet once more just to tie up any loose ends, or last minute changes. Had she changed her mind, he wondered. Maybe she wasn’t going to pay the ransom after all. That was certainly a possibility. She was planning on leaving him wasn’t she? She said so herself. She wanted to be rid of him. Perhaps she thought the kidnappers were actually doing her a favour. Maybe the kidnapping was an answer to prayer. Perhaps she had decided just to hang on to the money. Poor old Carl, but tough, but that’s how the cookie crumbles sometimes. He smiled, and then he shook his head. Even if all of that were true she would still have let him know wouldn’t she?

  There had to be another reason. So why wasn’t she here? Why was she so late? Had something happened to her? Perhaps there had been an accident, or she had been taken ill. Perhaps even now she was lying unconscious in a hospital bed somewhere, or worse still, lying in the street, struck down by a speeding car.

  He took a deep breath, and picked up the telephone. He dialed her number once again. On the third ring the answering machine cut in. “Hi. You’re through to Eve Simmonds. I’m sorry I’m not here at present, but please leave a message after the tone. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” He slowly replaced the receiver. He stood up and started to pace the floor once more. Should he ring around the hospitals, he wondered, or call the police maybe?

  * * *

  Suddenly there was a loud tap on the door. A moment later came another knock, and the door burst open. Eve Simmonds hurried into the room. She was carrying a dark blue attaché case. She was breathing hard, and sweating profusely. “I’m sorry I’m so late,” she stammered. “I had to wait at the bank. It was just so difficult.” She took a deep breath.

  Kendall looked at the clock. It was a little after one o’clock. Just over five and a quarter hours left before she was due to keep that appointment. He stood up and quickly walked over to her, and helped her to a chair.

  “Sit down,” he said. “Take it easy.” She sat down. “Can I get you a drink?” he asked. She nodded. Kendall hurried into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with two cups of coffee. He placed a cup in front of her. “Drink that,” he said. “You’ll feel better.”

  She looked up at him, and smiled. “I’m all right,” she replied. “I just got a little anxious that’s all.” She took a drink. “They were just so slow. At the bank I mean, checking with this section, and then checking that section, and then re-checking with the first people. You know I needed approval from three different offices. I wouldn’t mind, but it is my money. The way they were acting you would think it was theirs, and I was try
ing to steal it.”

  Kendall nodded. “But you have got it?” he asked anxiously. “The money I mean. They did give it to you?”

  She nodded. “Yes I’ve got it,” she replied. “But it just took a very long while to get it, I was beginning to wonder. Apparently my original request never got through to the right people, for reasons that I’ll never understand.” She took a deep breath. “They didn’t know anything about it. Then the phone calls started. You would not believe the bureaucracy, and the paperwork.”

  Kendall nodded. He believed it, not that he had ever been in that kind of situation. “For a short while it seemed that I wouldn’t get the money until tomorrow,” she continued. “I was getting quite worried. Anyway I have it now. Panic over.” She placed the attaché case down on to the desk. It was dark blue in color, exactly in accordance with the instructions that she had received. She slowly turned the wheels of the combination lock. When she was satisfied that the numbers were in the right sequence she slid the case over towards Kendall.

  Kendall looked at her. He took a deep breath. “For the briefest of moments I thought that maybe you had changed your mind,” he said. “Decided to forget about old Carl, and just keep the money instead.”

  She smiled at him. “Believe me,” she said. “I was sorely tempted.” She looked down at the case and nodded. “I couldn’t do it,” she said wistfully. “I just couldn’t do it.”

  Kendall nodded and smiled. He looked back at the case, and then flipped the catches. The case sprang open. Inside it was full of used dollar bills, also in accordance with the kidnapper’s instructions. Kendall looked up at her.

  She nodded. “There’s two hundred thousand dollars sitting there,” she said. “In used bills in small denominations, just as requested.”

  Kendall nodded. He looked down at the money. He took out a bundle, and casually flipped through the notes. He placed the bundle back into the case. As he did so he noted the words on the wrapper. “Two thousand dollars,” he murmured. “In that one small bundle.”

  He slowly rubbed his hand over the bundles of money. He did not need to count them, but he knew that there were one hundred such bundles altogether. “Exactly as required,” he whispered. Then he gently tapped them, and closed the case. He idly wondered if Carl Simmonds was actually worth so much cash. Probably not, he murmured. He pressed the catches shut. He turned the combination wheels randomly, and locked the case. He then tried the catches. The catches held firm, the case was securely locked. “Now what about the other instructions,” he said. “Let me see those once again.”

  Eve Simmonds opened her handbag, and took out an envelope. She opened the envelope and took out a sheet of paper. She placed it on the desk in front of Kendall. He looked up at her. She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Here they are, the instructions on how, where and when the money is to be paid over.”

  Kendall took hold of the paper and started to read. “Take the South Dixie Highway out of town to Florida City,” he read out aloud. Kendall stopped reading, and stood up. He walked over to the bookshelves on the far wall. He returned a few moments later carrying a detailed atlas of Florida. He placed the book on the desk. He opened it, and started to flip through the pages until he found the page that he wanted. “There it is,” he said. “South Dixie Highway.” He scanned the page for a moment or two. “And there,” he pointed. “There’s Florida City.”

  He looked back at the paper, and continued to read. “On the south side of the town you pass by the Comfort Inn, and The Travel-Lodge.” He stopped once again and looked back at the map. He nodded. “There it is, the Comfort Inn.” He traced his finger along the map following the route, as he continued reading. “A half mile further, take the left hand fork, into Card Sound Road.” He glanced at the map once again. “There,” he whispered. “Travel 1.36 miles and turn left. Two and a half miles further on there is a fork in the road.”

  Kendall looked up from the instructions. Why did they have to be so involved, he wondered? Why did they have to be so precise, so complex? Why couldn’t they just say go to such and such a place? End of story. Be there by such and such a time. That’s all that was required. Then you could just make your own way there. It would be a whole lot easier. Then he shook his head, and started to smile. He knew why it was so exact, so precise. It was so that they, the kidnappers, could keep an eye on you at any point they chose along the route. To check to make sure that you weren’t being followed by anyone, especially the police. It made perfect sense, from their point of view that is.

  He continued to read. “Take the left fork. One mile further on then take a right turn.” Once more he looked up, and shook his head. Did these instructions take into account the possibility of road works taking place, or maybe a traffic diversion, or perhaps an accident happening? He shook his head once again. Probably not, he thought.

  He shrugged, and continued to read. “One hundred yards along the road pull in and stop.” Once again he glanced at the map. “That’s the spot,” he said placing his finger on the position. “You will see a dark grey Ford enter the road from the other end. It will stop approximately fifty yards further along. Flash your headlights twice. There will be an answering signal. Get out of your car and walk due north into the bushes for a distance of fifty yards. You will come to a small clearing. On the far side of the clearing are the remains of an old tree stump. Place the attaché case inside that stump. Then return to your car and drive away. Your husband will be released forty-eight hours later.”

  He placed the document down on to the desk and looked up at her. “Have you got that?” he asked. “You must stick to that route,” he continued. “Undoubtedly they will be watching for you somewhere along the way. If they don’t see you they will just call everything off.”

  She nodded. “I understand,” she said. “What time am I to get there?” she asked.

  Kendall looked at the paper once again. “Here it is,” he replied. “Six-thirty on the dot, tonight, no earlier, and no later,” he said. “The Timing is most important, if you are not there, at that time, the grey car will merely drive away.” He continued to read the document in silence. A moment or two later he reached the end. “And no police,” he murmured as he looked up.

  She nodded. “As you say, Mr. Kendall no police.”

  Kendall looked at the wall clock once again. It was just after ten minutes to two. “Just a little over four hours to go,” he said. “Should be enough time. I’ll get there earlier, around about five.”

  He looked at the clock. “It will take an hour, hour and a half to get there I guess, allowing for traffic.” He paused for a moment. “I need to leave here at about three thirty,” he continued. “No later than four.” He paused once again, and then nodded once again. “I’ll leave my car there, just before the turn off.” He pointed at the map. It was approximately three hundred yards from the arranged meeting spot. “I’ll get it off the road as far as I can, and into the bushes. Then I’ll double back, and be waiting just about.” His fingers hovered over the page for a few seconds. “There.” He looked at the map once again. “That looks like the clearing,” he announced. “I’ll get over to the pick-up point and then I’ll just wait.”

  She looked up at him. “Please be careful, Mr. Kendall,” she said.

  He started to smile. “Don’t you worry about me, careful is my middle name,” he said. “Besides I am most particular when it comes to my own health and well being.”

  She smiled. “I mean it,” she said. “And no heroics, don’t try anything clever. Just let them take the money and go. Don’t try to stop them, promise.”

  Kendall had no intention of trying to stop them. All that he had planned was to get to see what they looked like, and details of their car. “I promise,” he said. “I won’t make any attempt to stop them, don’t you worry about that.” Heroics was not one of his major characteristics, he thought, far from it. What was that old saying, he wondered. To err is human, he murmured, and to err on the side of caution
was wise. He wasn’t sure if that was actually correct, although it sounded about right. He wasn’t good at that sort of thing. He didn’t have the memory for it. Well it was his version of the saying anyway, and it would do just fine. He knew what he meant even if no one else did.

  “Anyway,” he continued. “You’re the one who should be careful. You must be there on time. Then just place the money in the tree stump and get away as fast as you can. Don’t stop for anything, and don’t look back.” Her eyes began to water, and she started to cry. He patted her arm. “It’ll be all right,” he said. “You’ll see. He’ll be back in no time, safe and sound.”

  Kendall suddenly remembered what she had said on their first meeting. “My husband and I are not what you might call a loving couple. I am actually planning on getting a divorce.” Kendall began to wonder if he had actually said the right thing or not. Perhaps she was crying because he was coming back, he thought mischievously. “That’s wicked,” he whispered. “Not worthy.” He shook his head dismissing the thought from his mind.

  He stood up and moved around the desk. He took her arm and helped her to the door. “Remember,” he said. “Don’t be late.” She nodded and then quickly walked from the room. Kendall watched as she walked along the corridor. She stopped and turned around at the staircase. She raised her arm and waved. Kendall waved back, and then she was gone.