by John Holt
“Well there you are then,” said Mollie, not exactly sure of where they were.
“Russell wouldn’t know whether Simmonds actually boarded the flight or not would he?” Kendall continued. “He could easily have left the departure lounge and stayed in Miami for all he knew.”
“Or taken another flight, to somewhere completely different,” suggested Mollie.
That was certainly a possibility of course. Although that would have meant that he had yet another airline ticket to add to the ones for Chicago, and New York. Perhaps he had got a good deal. Buy one ticket and get two others free. It would also have meant that although it was originally intended that he went to Chicago, he actually wanted people to think that he had gone to New York, but he had actually gone to who knows where.
“Yes he could have gone to San Francisco, Denver, Boston, you name it,” said Kendall. “He could have gone to Europe.” Mollie nodded. “The Bahamas maybe.” Mollie nodded once again. “Dubai.” Mollie got the general idea she didn’t need a whole list.
“But if he had gone to any of those places, then he certainly would not have been kidnapped in New York, would he?” Mollie nodded, not really understanding any of it.
Kendall took a deep breath. “I don’t really think he went anywhere,” he announced. “I actually think he stayed right here in Florida, somewhere close by. I don’t know why, but I believe he never left Miami.”
Mollie was getting more confused than ever, and having difficulty in keeping up. First he was going to Chicago, and then it was New York. Thirdly he goes to Europe, or the Bahamas, or Dubai, or somewhere. Now he actually stayed in Miami. Why not the North Pole?
“What makes you think that?” she asked.
“I went to New York didn’t I, to check on that receipt that the kidnapper had dropped,” Kendall said. “I went to the Lexington Hotel. I showed them the receipt, and they told me that it related to a Mr. Keith Gardner. I showed them a photograph of Simmonds, it drew a complete blank, they had never seen him before.”
“Well he could have been at another hotel couldn’t he?” Mollie suggested helpfully. “The Waldorf’s pretty nice I hear, or the Plaza.”
Kendall smiled. “Certainly he could have stayed in any of them,” he replied. “But highly unlikely I think, the kidnapper staying at one hotel and his victim staying at another. I don’t think so somehow. It would be a little impractical wouldn’t you say.”
Mollie was still not sure of what it all meant. She looked at Kendall, and started to rub her chin. “If Simmonds wasn’t in New York, as you suggest,” she said slowly, trying to put her thoughts into some kind of logical sequence. “Why was Gardner there? And Cartwright?” she asked. “I mean what would be the point?” She thought for a few minutes. “You said that staying at different hotels was a little impractical,” she continued. “So how difficult would it be staying at two different towns?”
Kendall looked at her, and shook his head. It was a fair question that obviously conflicted with his theory, and one that he didn’t really have an answer for. Certainly the kidnapper and the victim ought to be together. That was the normal way, the expected way, the practical way.
“Good question,” Kendall replied. “I don’t really know the answer to that one. All I know is that Gardner was staying at the Lexington in New York, with Cartwright, and our friend Carl Simmonds wasn’t.” He thought for a few moments. “Maybe, just maybe, it was all part of a plan to make us think that Simmonds was in New York. Perhaps it was all staged, perhaps it was all just an elaborate deception.”
Mollie looked at him, and shook her head. He was just rambling now. She had caught him out with a difficult question, and he didn’t know the answer, so he was trying to talk his way out of it. All staged indeed. What was he talking about?
“Staged,” she repeated. “Why would it be staged?
Kendall didn’t know why it would be staged, he didn’t even know for sure that it had been staged. “I don’t know,” he said indignantly. “Do I have to do everything around here? To think of everything? Perhaps Carl Simmonds just wanted us to think that he was in New York, how about that?”
“That’s utterly ridiculous,” Mollie replied.
Kendall smiled. “Yes it does sound a bit crazy I admit, but think for a moment. We know that those two men, including Gardner, were seen at the airport by Russell. We know that they got on to a New York flight, the flight that Simmonds was supposed to be on.”
“And we know that they stayed at the Lexington,” added Mollie.
“That’s right,” said Kendall. “We also know that those two men were the kidnappers. I saw one of them pick up the money. I think Russell was meant to see them. I also think they meant us to know that they were in New York.”
“All right,” said Mollie. “Let’s say you are right. They went to New York, they were the kidnappers, and they meant us to know they were in New York. So how come Simmonds wasn’t there with them? After all he was the one being held against his will wasn’t he?”
“That’s a good point,” said Kendall. “More to the point though, how did they know that Simmonds was supposed to be going to New York anyway?”
He shook his head wearily. It had all made sense just a few minutes ago, now it was beginning to sound foolish. Two steps forward, and a mile or two back. “All I know is that Gardner and his friend, Cartwright, were there, at the hotel and Simmonds wasn’t. The reception had never seen him before.”
Mollie sat thinking for a while. “Well we just agreed that they knew Simmonds would be in New York, because somebody had told them, or they heard him change his plans,” she said. “I still think Russell tipped them off.”
Kendall shook his head. “They were the kidnappers all right, and they knew Simmonds would be in New York. Unlikely, but they may have seen him switching planes, and just followed him. But Russell never told them,” he said. “No Russell said that he didn’t know the men, and besides he was quite afraid of them. He certainly thought that they were the kidnappers, but he never helped them, of that I’m absolutely sure. That’s probably why he was murdered. They knew that he knew, and they thought he might talk.”
Mollie started to rub her chin with her hand. Who knew who, who knew what, who said this, who did that. Who was where? It was all getting very confusing. She looked at Kendall, a frown on her face. “If you had kidnapped someone would you be staying in a hotel anyway,” she asked. “I mean you wouldn’t exactly be acting like a tourist would you. I certainly wouldn’t. There would be too big a risk of being discovered. You’re bound to be seen, the bell boys, the porters, the maids. There would always be someone around, not to mention the other guests. And then there’s the dining room, the hotel lobby. It just goes on.”
Kendall had still said nothing. She was beginning to wonder if she was making sense or not. Perhaps it wasn’t that important after all, perhaps she was wrong in her conclusions. No, she wasn’t wrong. It made perfect sense. He just didn’t see it. That was all. She looked at him, and glared. “Well I think so anyway.”
Kendall suddenly sat up. That’s right. Why hadn’t he thought of that? It was so obvious, but he had missed it. Then he stood up and walked over to where she was sitting. He bent down and kissed her. “Brilliant,” he said. “You are brilliant.” He kissed her again. Then he walked back to his chair.
“No I wouldn’t stay in a hotel either,” he agreed. “Let’s have some coffee, shall we? Oh, and some of those nice chocolate biscuits I like.”
* * *
Chapter Seventeen
Carl Simmonds
Kendall was late getting back to the office. He had been out at the beach, his second attempt at jogging. He was feeling quite pleased with himself, it had gone a little better today. He had intended starting at about eight. Regrettably there was a technical problem with the alarm clock, he hadn’t switched it on.
He had finally got started a little before ten. He had told Mollie that he would be back no later than one o’clo
ck. It was now two thirty. Nonetheless it had been a good morning, a marked improvement on the previous occasion. For a start he hadn’t actually collapsed into a heap had he? He hadn’t been left gasping for breath had he? He hadn’t need oxygen, or to call out the paramedics.
On the contrary today he had done very well, or at least it was a little encouraging. He had taken a little over three thousand paces. Still some way from the required ten thousand, but Rome wasn’t built in a day was it? He had burnt six hundred and ninety two calories. That was going to be his story anyway. He was certainly feeling the better for it. In fact he was feeling pretty good. And to add to it there were blueberry muffins waiting for him back at the office. At least that’s what he had asked Mollie to get for him.
He opened the door and swept into the room. There was a huge beaming grin on his face. “I’m back,” he called out enthusiastically. “Did you miss me?”
Mollie looked up at him. “We have a visitor,” she whispered, as she pointed into the room. Kendall looked across the room, in the direction that she had indicated. There was a man standing by the window, his back to the room, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. He was staring out of the window, down at the parking area below. Although Kendall had never seen the man before, he instinctively knew who it was.
As Kendall drew near, the man turned around. “Mr. Kendall?” he asked. He held out his hand. “I’m Carl Simmonds, I understand that you are looking for me.”
Kendall took hold of the outstretched hand, and shook it. He smiled. “How do you know that Mr. Simmonds?” he asked.
Simmonds grinned. “My friends, Mr. Kendall,” he replied. “You have obviously been speaking to them.”
So far Kendall had only spoken to Russell, and he was now dead. “Oh yes,” he replied. “That’s right.” He looked at his visitor. He didn’t exactly look like someone who had been held for several days against their will. “Please, please do sit down, Mr. Simmonds.” Kendall beckoned him to a chair. Simmonds nodded, and sat down. “Mollie, some coffee please.”
Mollie had anticipated him, and was just coming from the kitchen, carrying a tray. She put the tray on the desk, and then handed Simmonds his coffee. She went over to her desk, and picked up a number of envelopes. “I’ll just post these,” she said, as she walked to the door. “I won’t be long.”
Kendall looked at her and waved. He then turned back to his guest. “Please help yourself to the biscuits,” he said. He took a deep breath. “So when did you get back Mr. Simmonds?” he asked.
Simmonds was busily chewing on a chocolate biscuit. He looked up, and shook his head. “It was about ….” He shook his head again. “Let me think.” He looked at his watch, and thought for a short while. “It was almost five hours ago, that I was put on to a flight out of Newark.”
“What flight was that?” Kendall asked.
Simmonds frowned, and sighed. “Let me think,” he replied. “It was the eight o’clock United flight 426 this morning.” He nodded his head. “Yes I’m sure that’s right, the 426. It arrived at Miami about an hour and a half ago I suppose. I came straight here.” He reached into his inside pocket. “Here we are,” he said. “Here’s the ticket.” He looked at it closely. “I was right, it was flight 426.” He threw the ticket down on to the desk in front of Kendall.
Kendall glanced at the ticket, and nodded. It was for flight 426, there was no dispute there. He looked back at his visitor. “Have you been home yet?” he asked.
Simmonds shook his head. “No, not yet,” he replied. “I came straight here from the airport.”
Kendall looked across at the clock on the far wall. Certainly there would have been no time to get home, and then over to the office. “You came straight here did you say,” he replied. “Strange that you never went home first, I mean you have been away for several days, held kidnap. Didn’t you think your wife would be pleased to see you?”
Simmonds shook his head, and smiled. “It’s not that strange,” he replied. “No really. You see, I rang my wife from the airport. There was no answer. Then I suddenly remembered that she usually went to see her parents on a Thursday, and she usually stayed the night. So you see I knew that she would be out, and I knew that you were anxious to hear from me, so I came straight over here.”
A perfectly plausible reply, Kendall thought. He took a deep breath, and took a drink. “Then you don’t know about your wife?” he said slowly.
Simmonds looked up. “My wife,” he said. “What about my wife?” His hands started shaking and he began breathing deeply. “What has happened?”
Kendall took another deep breath. He looked down at the desk for a moment. Then he looked up, directly at Simmonds. “Mr. Simmonds, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but your wife is dead.” He paused. “She was murdered.”
Simmonds slumped forward in his chair. His breathing became labored, his eyes glazed over and a tear ran down his cheek. Kendall reached out his hand, and placed it on to Simmonds arm. He brushed it aside. “I’m all right,” he murmured. “I’ll be all right. Just give me a moment.” He took a deep breath. “What happened Mr. Kendall?” he asked. “I want to know everything. And I mean everything.”
Kendall nodded. “Certainly, Mr. Simmonds, I’ll tell you all I know.” He picked up his cup, and finished his coffee. “Let me first explain where I come in. I was engaged by your wife to find you. She was under the impression that you had been kidnapped, and she wanted me to investigate.” He picked up his coffee cup. It was empty. “More coffee, Mr. Simmonds?” he asked. Simmonds shook his head. Kendall nodded. He looked at his empty cup. He would have liked another cup. He shrugged. Never mind, he murmured. “Where have you been Mr. Simmonds?” he asked.
Simmonds looked puzzled, and then he looked at the airline ticket that was still lying on the desk. He pointed to it. “There,” he said. “New York, look at the ticket.”
Kendall ignored the comment. “Why?” he asked quite simply.
Simmonds shook his head in disbelief. “Why,” he repeated. “Well I don’t really see that it is of any concern to you, or as any connection with my wife’s murder, but I have been away on business.”
Kendall nodded. “A business trip, I see,” he said. He remained silent for a few moments. “I understood that you were actually going to Chicago, but changed your plans and went to New York instead. Is that right?”
Simmonds nodded his head. “That’s right,” he replied. “It was a last minute thing that’s all. No big mystery. I decided to go to New York first. Depending on the outcome of that trip I then planned to go to Chicago. That’s all.”
Kendall started to frown. “I still don’t understand why the last minute switch,” he said. “Why didn’t you just go to Chicago as you had originally planned?”
Simmonds shook his head. “Once again I fail to see any connection with my wife’s death,” he said, his voice beginning to break up. “Furthermore I cannot see that it is of any concern to you, but as you seem to be insistent, I’ll tell you.” He took a deep breath. “It was merely to confuse my business rivals. I did not want them to know what I was up to.”
“You didn’t want your wife to know either, apparently,” Kendall said. “She was as confused as anybody. Why didn’t you tell her at least?”
Simmonds placed his hands together and started to tap his fingers nervously. “Kendall I just wanted to get away for a few days without anyone, especially my business competitors knowing,” he replied. “If she had known, she might have let slip that’s all, innocently maybe. I didn’t want anyone to know, or anyone to see me.”
Kendall shook his head, and smiled. “But you were seen Mr. Simmonds,” he said. “There were two men at the airport in the departure lounge. They saw you leave gate 32, the Chicago flight, and then they saw you go over to Gate 44, for the Continental flight to New York.”
Simmonds nodded and smiled. “You know about them?” he replied surprised. “They actually work for me,” he explained. “Their task was to ma
ke sure that I wasn’t followed.”
Kendall was stunned. Those two men worked for Carl Simmonds, and yet these same men are, apparently, involved in his kidnapping. This wasn’t making much sense. It seemed that the two men were branching out, doing a little extra work on the side.
Clearly Simmonds knew nothing about the hotel receipt, and obviously he knew nothing about Kendall’s trip to New York. “They worked for you,” Kendall repeated, puzzled. He smiled and then started to laugh. “You know for a little while, I actually thought that they were the kidnappers, can you imagine that?”
Simmonds shook his head. “Oh no,” he replied. He brushed his head nervously, and took a deep breath. “They were actually there to protect me. To watch my back, and make sure that I wasn’t followed.”
Kendall looked puzzled once again. “A kind of a bodyguard, do you mean?” he asked. “They didn’t do much of a job did that?”
Simmonds nodded. “Well yes,” he replied. “I suppose you could say that.”
Kendall shook his head, and grinned. “I’d fire them if I were you,” he said. “It’s pity that you never took them to New York with you then. They could have been a big help to you.”
Now it was Simmonds turn to look puzzled. “Why do you say that?” he asked.
Kendall looked at him and smiled. “They would have seen the kidnappers coming, and stopped them, you would have been safe, and out of harm.”
Simmonds nodded slowly. “Oh yes, I see what you mean,” he replied.
It still didn’t make any sense, and yet it certainly answered the question of how did the kidnappers knew that Simmonds was going to New York. These two knew because they had been at the airport that night, the night Simmonds went to New York. They saw him and they knew.
Kendall suddenly thought of something that Frank Russell had said. “No I’m sorry Mr. Kendall. I know nothing about them. Apart from that night at the airport, and earlier today, as far as I know I have never seen them before.”