by John Holt
He nodded. “Oh yes the kidnapping,” he replied, and laughed once more. “That seemed to work out rather well I thought. In fact I think that it worked perfectly.” He looked at her. “Don’t you?” She said nothing. He shrugged his shoulders. “It was a lot easier than I had imagined.”
She stared at him, a puzzled frown slowly spreading across her face. “I don’t understand, Carl,” she said.
He nodded his head. “I know you don’t my sweet,” he said. “I know you don’t.” He looked down at the carpet. The stain was spreading rapidly. “That stain won’t come out you know.” “I never did like that carpet anyway,” he murmured. He looked up at her, smiling once again. “Now where’s that drink I asked for?”
She took a deep breath, trying to comprehend what was happening. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’ll get it for you.” She turned back to the cabinet and started to prepare the drink. “Whiskey, and water,” she stammered. Suddenly she felt cold, and shivered. She began to feel very frightened. “When did they let you go?” she asked nervously.
Simmonds started to laugh. “Let me go?” he repeated. “Let me think.” He paused for a moment, and laughed once again. “When did they let me go? What day was it?” He placed his hands together and started to tap his fingers. “Oh, let me see. It must have been about four or five days ago, I believe,” he continued. “When did I actually leave for Chicago? Was it Tuesday, or Wednesday?”
She turned to face him. Her heart was racing, she felt weak, her legs felt like jelly. Her hands began to shake and she dropped the glass that she was holding.
Simmonds moved towards her. “My my, you are getting extremely accident-prone aren’t you?” he said. “That’s two glasses in about five minutes.” He looked down at the floor as another stain began to form. “And they were from the best quality crystal set that your father bought for our wedding. At the current rate another fifteen minutes and the whole set would have been destroyed, thank goodness. I never did like them anyway.”
He walked past her over to the cabinet. “I think I better get my own drink, don’t you my sweet? Obviously you’re not capable.” He looked at the array of bottles lined up, and picked up the whiskey. He poured himself a large drink. He added a splash of water, and walked back to the sofa and sat down. He took a deep breath. “What’s wrong, Eve?” he asked. “Why are you so nervous?” She said nothing. “Just calm down,” he continued. “Take it easy.” Still she said nothing. “You don’t look well, Eve, not well at all, should I call a doctor? Can I get you anything?” He patted the sofa seat next to him. “You should at least sit down. Over here by me.”
She took a drink. Then she walked over to the corner of the room and sat down. He was right. She was anything but well. Her breathing was laboured. She was sweating. She looked at him, and then she looked down to the floor. “I was so worried about you,” she said almost in a whisper, shaking her head.
“I know you were,” he said. “It really was so good of you. Oh, and that Mr. Kendall. He was worried too wasn’t he? He was so worried that he actually waited around just to make sure that we got the money.” He took another drink. “You really must thank him for me. In all of that rain as well, I do hope he hasn’t caught a cold or something.”
She could not comprehend what he was saying. Nothing made sense. Everything was becoming mixed up in her head. “I thought that you might have been killed,” she said. “I imagined all sorts of things.” Her voice trailed away.
He started to laugh. “And all the time there I was, perfectly safe, down on the Keys.” She looked up at him. “Key Largo to be exact, you know the film with Humphrey Bogart, and, what was her name?” He waited for a response. Eve said nothing. “Bacall,” he announced. “Lauren Bacall, that was it, what a great movie. Anyway, that’s where I was.”
Slowly but surely she was beginning to realize the truth. She was still shaking, but it was no longer fear. Now she was shaking with rage.
“You know it was very touching of you to pay that ransom,” he continued casually. “I didn’t know that you cared quite so much. Two hundred thousand dollars, that’s a lot of money. I wonder how high you would have gone. Would you have gone to three hundred thousand dollars? How about four hundred thousand I wonder? Could I go as high as half a million?” He shook his head. “Surely I’m not worth that much am I my sweet?” Still she said nothing. “Perhaps I should have been more ambitious, and aimed much higher than I did.” He looked over at her. “Nothing to say my sweet, no matter. I shouldn’t be greedy should I?” He took a drink.
“So that’s it,” she said as she started to regain her composure. “You did all of that, the disappearance, the random notes, the alleged kidnap, you did it all. It was all planned, just for money.”
“You’re wrong Eve,” he said. “Oh yes I planned it, you’re correct there, right down to the last detail.” He took another drink. “Even Russell, going along to see your friend Kendall, that was all part of the plan. Not that he knew he had been set up.” He put his hands together. “I thought that part was quite brilliant. The two men he had seen at the airport, the two men watching him. It all added weight to the alleged kidnap.” He started to laugh once more. “Of course Kendall guessed that the two men were more than likely the kidnappers. Quite a clever detective is our Mr. Kendall.”
“It was all planned,” she murmured, and shook her head. “You know I thought there was something about the ransom notes, something odd that didn’t quite add up. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. But there was something nagging at me.”
He smiled. “Go on,” he coaxed. “I’m intrigued.”
She looked at him, her eyes staring. “It was the paper wasn’t it?” she said. “It’s the same notepaper that I use, the same paper that is now lying in that drawer over there.” She pointed to the bureau. “Of course it could have been a simple co-incidence. Other people must use the same paper. But it was no co-incidence was it?”
“Interesting,” he replied. “I never actually gave the paper a moment’s thought. I nearly slipped up there, didn’t I?” He waited for her to speak. She merely shook her head and looked away. “Funny how the simplest of things can be so important,” he continued. “Not that it matters, not now. It’s all far too late, you see. If only you had noticed that before. Think of all the trouble you would have avoided.”
She turned around to face him. “But I still don’t understand why. You did it all, just for money? I don’t believe it. That doesn’t make sense. I had money.” She paused, and corrected herself. “We had money, more than enough, so why?”
He smiled, as he noted the change. “It wasn’t just about money Eve,” he said. “Although that was a major consideration, I have to admit. But there’s more to it than that, much more.” He quickly finished his drink. “It was to give me an alibi.”
“Alibi?” she repeated. “What do you mean alibi? Why would you need an alibi? I don’t understand any of this.”
“No I’m sure that you don’t, my sweet,” he said. He took a deep breath, and smiled. “Anyway enough of this idle conversation,” he continued. “You are no longer required Eve, as simple as that,” he announced. She looked up, surprised. “That’s right,” he said. “I don’t need you anymore, and that money will come in handy, very handy indeed.” He started to rub the side of his face. He then smiled and raised his eyebrows.
She took a deep breath. So that was it, she thought. “Are you planning on going to Mary?” she asked, her voice beginning to break.
“Mary?” he said. “Don’t be foolish.” He started to laugh
“But I thought,” she responded.
“Mary had her uses no doubt about that,” he replied. “And I took full advantage of them. Certainly she was a great help to me.” He paused, and shook his head once again. “But that’s all. She was a means to an end only, nothing more.” He paused for a few moments looking at Eve. She sat impassively. “Now, I’ll take my leave of you. I’ll just take a few of my things
and be on my way.”
Eve looked up. “If you leave me Carl,” she said quite calmly. “I will stop the allowance. You’ll have nothing.”
He shook his head and smiled. “You know I thought that you would say that.” he said. “I’m disappointed, I really am.” He shook his head once again. “I’ll just have to make other arrangements then won’t I?”
She said nothing and looked down at the floor. Tears were beginning to form, and slowly ran down her cheek. She suddenly looked up at him. “I’ll tell everything I know about the robbery.”
Simmonds looked at her, puzzled. “What do you know about the robbery?” he asked.
“I saw you,” she said quite simply. “That night, you were running from the house towards the woods.”
Simmonds smiled. “Ah. It was you wasn’t it? You were standing at the doorway. It was you who waved, yes?”
She nodded. “That’s right, it was me. I waved,” she repeated. “I couldn’t believe that it was you. I wondered what you were doing there, at that time of night. Then when the robbery was discovered I just knew. I knew that you had done it.”
“That was you,” Simmonds repeated, smiling. “I always thought it was Mary, strange that. All those years I never dreamt that it was you, no matter.” He looked at her. “If you knew why did you never say anything? To the police I mean, or to your father?”
“You know the answer to that Carl,” she replied.
He smiled. Yes he knew the answer all right. She did not have to spell it out. It didn’t matter anyway. It might have mattered a few years ago, but not now.
He watched her silently for a few moments, and then he turned away from her. As he did so, he slowly reached inside his jacket and withdrew a revolver from a shoulder holster. Without any hesitation he screwed the silencer into position. He then turned around to face her, the gun outstretched in his hand. As he did so she looked up. He was smiling at her. When she saw the gun she screamed, and ran towards the door. As she reached the doorway, he took aim and gently squeezed the trigger. There was a dull muffled thud as the bullet struck her in the back, the bullet penetrating her right lung. She fell to the floor. He slowly walked over to where she lay. He looked down at her, took aim once again and fired a second shot directly through the heart.
The clock on the shelf started to chime. Startled he looked over towards it. It was just a quarter past twelve. He walked over to the window, and looked down to the street below. Surprisingly there were still a lot of people around. He decided that he would leave later, much later. He did not want to run the risk of being seen.
* * *
Chapter Eleven
The Lexington Hotel – New York
Kendall slowly placed the document that he had been reading back down on to the desk. It was a mini-statement from a Credit Card company, Carl Simmonds’ credit card to be exact. It had been sent in by Eve Simmonds, and received in the post that morning. Kendall casually glanced at the postmark. It had been posted two days previously. Two days to travel a little over fifteen miles, he murmured. Two days. Forty-eight hours. He thought for a moment or two. Fifteen miles, in forty-eight hours, that equated to an average speed of approximately 500 yards per hour. It would have been quicker with the Pony Express of the Old West.
He shrugged his shoulders. “I could have walked it quicker, and burned off a lot of calories at the same time.” He smiled at the thought, knowing that there was no way that he could walk fifteen miles in any amount of time, not in his condition. But once he was fit again, there would be no holding him.
Kendall glanced at the paper once again. He was puzzled. It clearly showed there had been a cash withdrawal of two hundred and fifty dollars seven days ago, from a cash machine located in Lexington Avenue. That clearly shows that he was in New York, for a few days at any rate.” And yet somehow Kendall was not entirely convinced. Something kept nagging at the back of his mind. Something did not quite gel.
He started to tap the desk with his fingers. Sometimes it helped him concentrate. Not today though. It didn’t seem to be helping at all. He shook his head, and started to rub his chin. There was something definitely odd, but he just could not fathom what it was. “Two hundred and fifty dollars,” he repeated over and over. Then it suddenly hit him. He picked up the letter that had come with the statement.
He quickly scanned down the page. “Here it is,” he murmured as he found the spot he wanted. He started to read. “My husband had at least five thousand dollars with him, when he left that day,” she had written. Kendall looked up staring across the room. “Five thousand dollars,” he repeated. “Five thousand.”
Mollie looked at him. “What did you say? She asked.
Kendall looked at her, and frowned. “I just said five thousand dollars,” he replied. “That’s how much cash Simmonds had with him when he went away.”
Mollie nodded. “Well,” she said. “So he had five thousand dollars. What about it?”
“He had five thousand dollars, in cash,” Kendall repeated. “Don’t you get it?” He waited for a reaction. Mollie said nothing. “If he had five thousand dollars with him why did he feel the need to withdraw another two hundred and fifty dollars from a hole in the wall, so soon? I mean it was only a matter of a few days. He could hardly have been short of money, could he?”
Mollie looked up. It was a fair point. “Perhaps he was just extravagant,” she suggested. Kendall looked at her, and raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps he gambled, and lost.” Kendall shook his head. “All right,” Mollie responded. “Perhaps he was just out one day, and realized he had left his wallet at the hotel.”
“From the little I know of him, Carl Simmonds doesn’t strike me to be the type to ever forget his wallet,” Kendall replied. “Besides if he had forgotten his wallet, how come he had his credit card with him? Most people carry their card with them in their wallet.”
Mollie shrugged her shoulders. Maybe some men did, but she didn’t think that it was necessarily true for everyone. However she had to agree with the first part of what Kendall had said. She thought for a few moments. “How do we know that it was actually him, anyway?” she asked.
“So who else could it be?” Kendall asked.
“Did you say that it was a withdrawal from a machine?” she asked. “One of those holes in the wall?” Kendall nodded. “So there was no need for an actual signature then just a pin number.” Once again Kendall nodded. “Perhaps it wasn’t actually Simmonds who withdrew the money. Maybe the card had been stolen. Perhaps it was someone else using his card.”
“Someone else using his card,” Kendall repeated. “It’s possible, but how did they get hold of his card?” he asked.
Mollie looked up from her magazine. “Perhaps he gave it to them. Or perhaps the kidnappers just took it,” she suggested helpfully. “Who knows?” She returned to the magazine. “Besides, he was being held against his will wasn’t he? So how could he be down on Lexington Avenue getting money out of a machine anyway.” She shook her head. “No it wasn’t Carl Simmonds using that machine.”
Kendall looked at her. “It wouldn’t be the kidnappers either,” he said. “They would simply take the five thousand dollars wouldn’t they?” He started to tap the desk once again. Thoughts of credit cards, and kidnappers, were going over and over in his mind, all getting churned up, and making no sense at all. The only certainly was the fact that his card had been used, so one way or another Carl Simmonds must have been in New York.
“I’m certain that Simmonds was there, in New York,” said Kendall. “I wonder if he stayed at the Lexington Hotel?” Russell had said that’s where he usually stayed. Perhaps he did, or perhaps he didn’t. But if he had been kidnapped it was hardly likely that he would be kept in a hotel.
“Two steps forward, three back,” he said.
Mollie looked at him. “Did you say something?” she asked.
“Skip it,” replied Kendall. “It wasn’t important.”
He then opened the top drawer of his d
esk and took out a small manila envelope that was lying on the top. He opened it, and emptied the contents on to the desk. The envelope contained a small scrap of paper, approximately six inches wide, and just over two inches long. Apart from several splatters of mud, it was substantially blood stained. Nonetheless it was still possible to recognize the logo of the Hotel Lexington, in the top left hand corner. Underneath were details of the hotel’s address, telephone number, email and web site. Over on the right hand side was a reference number. It appeared to be a receipt of some kind. All right so Kendall didn’t know whether Simmonds had stayed at the Lexington Hotel, or not. However it was clear that someone had been at the Lexington, someone connected with the kidnapping, and although there was no date visible, Kendall was guessing that it had been quite recently at that.
Kendall sat back in his chair, and stifled a yawn. “Well,” he suddenly announced wearily. “It looks like I will have to go to New York for a few days.”
Mollie looked up. “What did you say?” she asked.
Kendall sat forward, and looked across to her. “I said I need to go to New York for a few days,” he replied.
Mollie’s eyes lit up with excitement. Sak, Fifth Avenue, Tiffany, Broadway, all flashed through her mind in a millisecond. Central Park, the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, she suddenly realized that she had never seen the United Nations Building.
“When are we going,” she asked. “I’ll need to get a few things before we go. And I’ll need to pack. Get my hair done.” She stopped for breath. “There’s a million and one things to do, and ….”
Kendall smiled and shook his head. “When are we going?” he repeated. “We?” She looked at him, the sparkle in her eyes fading fast. “Mollie, you need to stay here, and hold the fort,” he continued. “That is most important.”