by John Holt
Kendall was puzzled. The two men worked for Simmonds, so did Russell. He must have known them, and he must have seen them before, probably several times. So why deny knowing them?
Kendall shrugged his shoulders. The whole thing was as confused as ever. If those two men were the kidnappers, Simmonds would be able to identify them easily. They wouldn’t take such a stupid risk like that would they? Try as hard as he might he was getting nowhere with this puzzle. He was sure that he had the right numbers, but for some reason they just did not add up, but Kendall was never that good at mathematics.
“Incidentally, Kendall,” Simmonds said. “I imagine that you have probably found out about my wayward past, my corrupt youth. I was quite a tear-away in my earlier years. I got into a lot of trouble then, mixed with the wrong crowd. You understand.”
Kendall didn’t understand. The only wrong crowd that he was aware of was safely locked up where they belonged.
“I finally settled down when I met her. Eve, I mean,” Simmonds continued. He paused, his voice beginning to falter. “Oh Mr. Kendall, what will I ever do without her? She was such a calming influence on my life you understand.”
Was that a tear in his eye, Kendall wondered? It seemed a little unlikely. He remembered what Eve Simmonds had said. “My husband and I are not what you might call a loving couple. In fact we have not been that way for a year or two now.”
Kendall shook his head. “I’m sure I really couldn’t say, Mr. Simmonds.” Although I expect you’ll manage reasonably well, he thought. “Life has to go on.”
Simmonds looked at him, and smiled. “She would have wanted it that way,” he said slowly.
Kendall nodded wisely. He coughed to clear his throat. “By the way how did you actually switch planes?” he asked
Simmonds smiled. “Oh, that was easy,” he replied. “I had checked in on the Chicago flight, and an acquaintance of mine checked in on the New York flight. Once inside the departure lounge we just switched tickets. It was really quite simple.
As easy as that. “Of course being an internal flight you never had the inconvenience of passports, and things like that did you?” Kendall suggested. “No need for any formal identification.”
“That’s right,” Simmonds agreed, as he tapped his fingers once more.
“Russell, Frank Russell,” murmured Kendall
Simmonds stopped tapping, and looked at Kendall. “I’m sorry, did you say something?” he asked.
Kendall nodded. “I said Frank Russell,” he replied. “He was the acquaintance, wasn’t he? The other party to the switch?”
“That’s right,” said Simmonds surprised. “How did you know that?”
How did I know? Kendall smiled. Clever detective work was one possibility. Sheer deductive brilliance, was obviously another. Logic, and superior brainpower, was a possible third. Of course the fact that Russell had actually told him had been immensely helpful. Kendall shook his head, and said nothing.
“So what about this kidnapping?” Kendall asked. “What can you tell me?”
Simmonds shook his head. “Well I don’t know an awful lot myself I’m afraid.”
Kendall scratched the back of his head. “Well let’s see shall we,” he said. “As a start, where were you when you were picked up?”
“New York,” he answered. “I had arrived at Newark at about six that evening.” He thought for a few moments. “A little before,” he continued. “It was about forty minutes later that I was in the Arrivals area. I just walked out of the airport, and was just about to get into a cab.” He stopped for a moment.
“Go on,” said Kendall. “You were just about to get into a cab.”
Simmonds looked up. “Yes. I was just about to get into a cab when a car pulled up behind. Two men got out, and came over to me. They said that they had been sent to collect me. I assumed that it was one of my business colleagues so I went along with them.”
Kendall was puzzled. This made no sense whatsoever. No one knew that Simmonds was going to New York. “Were any of your business associates actually expecting you?” he asked. “After all as far as anyone knew you were going to Chicago. You changed your mind at the last minute. So how did they know that you would be in New York at that time?”
“I don’t really know,” Simmonds replied. “I’m sorry but I’m not very good at that sort of thing. You know deduction, or whatever the technical term is.” He thought for a few more moments. “I never really thought about it. I just assumed I suppose. Maybe it was Frank, my friend Frank Russell, maybe he had telephoned to tell them. I don’t know. Foolish of me maybe but there you are, too trusting perhaps.” He thought for a few more moments. “Perhaps they had actually seen me at Miami airport. Perhaps they had actually followed me. Maybe they were on the same plane with me. I just don’t know.”
“Maybe they were,” said Kendall unconvincingly. “A bit of a co-incidence really, but possible I suppose. But then the question is why were they at Miami airport anyway? How did they know you would be there?”
Simmonds shook his head. “As I said Mr. Kendall I’m not really good at this kind of thing, but maybe they simply followed me from home,” he replied. “Followed me to the airport, then they followed me on to the plane, all the way to New York. Word gets around you know. After all it was no secret that I was going that night.”
Kendall was far from convinced. “Possible I suppose, but it still doesn’t quite add up. You had a ticket to Chicago, right?” Simmonds nodded. “When you went through into the departure area as far as anyone else knew you were going to Chicago. You switched at the last moment. Nobody knew that you intended going to New York.”
“So what’s your point Mr. Kendall?”
“My point is very simple,” Kendall replied. “How did those two men who picked you up know that you were going on the New York flight? I mean if they were on the same plane as you they must have had the tickets already.”
Simmonds shook his head and looked at Kendall. “I really don’t know where you are heading with all of this talk about Chicago, and switching flights, and how did they know this, or how did they know that. Maybe they just followed me into the departure lounge, and then just followed me on to the plane to New York. I don’t know. They could easily have bought a ticket at the last minute, at the boarding gate. The point is two men picked me up at Newark and kept me against my will for five days. Now I don’t know about you Mr. Kendall, but I find that a little upsetting. Perhaps they followed me from Miami. Perhaps Russell tipped them off. Perhaps they were never in Miami. Perhaps they were already in New York. A couple of opportunists, they saw me as I arrived, and recognized me, I am not exactly unknown after all. They then put two and two together and thought here is a chance to make some money. I don’t know. You are the detective, you work it out.”
It was certainly possible. In fact Kendall had actually come up with the same idea, but he had discarded it. Why? Because he knew that the two men at Miami Airport were the same two men who were at the Lexington Hotel. So why all of this double talk from Mr. Simmonds?
Simmonds was breathing deeply. Once again he was drumming his fingers on the desk. “On top of everything else I now find out that my wife has been murdered,” he continued. “When did that happen by the way?”
“Two days ago,” Kendall replied simply.
“Two days ago,” he repeated. He started to sob. He looked down at the ground. “I wasn’t there to help her,” he whispered. “Not when she needed me most.” He took out his handkerchief and dabbed his eyes. He looked up and shook his head. “Two days ago,” he repeated once again.
“That’s right,” said Kendall. “The very day that she paid the ransom for your release.”
Simmonds suddenly put his hand to his chest. He was having difficulty breathing. He started to choke. “Oh Mr. Kendall it’s so dreadful,” he stammered. “You say that she actually paid the ransom?” Kendall nodded. “Then why would they kill her? It doesn’t make sense.”
Ke
ndall rubbed the side of his face. He could not decide whether these outward signs of grief were actually genuine. He thought once again of what Eve Simmonds had said about their relationship. “So you think it was the kidnappers then?” Kendall asked, shaking his head.
“You obviously don’t?” Simmonds replied. “Then who else? Who could have done it, and why? Have you any ideas?”
“Not yet I’m afraid,” Kendall replied. “Nothing definite as you might say.” He looked down at the desk. “What I can tell you is that I think the kidnapping, and your wife’s murder are connected in some way, but exactly how I’m not sure.”
Simmonds looked puzzled. “But you just said that it wasn’t the kidnappers who killed her.”
“That’s right,” replied Kendall. “I don’t think they killed her, she had paid them what they wanted. No they never killed her, but somehow, and I don’t know how, the kidnapping, and her murder, are connected.”
Simmonds said nothing.
“Do you know anything about your kidnappers?” Kendall continued. “Anything at all?”
“No I’m afraid I don’t,” Simmonds replied. “I had never seen them before, I’m sorry.”
“Well can you describe them?” Kendall asked.
Simmonds shook his head. “As I said I really am no good at this detective work. I’m not observant enough probably,” he replied. “As far as I can remember they were both of medium height, medium build. One had dark hair, and the other was much lighter. I have no idea what colour eyes they had. As for their age, I would guess that they were both between late thirties, and early fifties. Not much help I’m afraid.”
Kendall shrugged. It was no more, nor less than he had expected. “Oh, that’s fine,” he replied. “Did they harm you in anyway?” he asked.
“Not really,” Simmonds replied. “A little roughing up, that’s all, nothing major. No bones broken.”
Kendall shrugged once again. “Whereabouts did they keep you?” he asked.
Once again Simmonds shook his head. “I couldn’t tell you I’m afraid. Not in detail, but I think it was over on the west side somewhere. That’s the direction we seemed to be heading anyway,” he replied. “Unfortunately, I was blindfolded for much of the time.” He paused and took a breath. “Incidentally, how do you know that it wasn’t the kidnappers who killed Eve? I mean how are you so sure?”
Kendall frowned, and shook his head. “Firstly let me say that I am far from sure of anything at present. Nonetheless there are a couple of reasons. Number one, there were no signs of a break-in, and number two there were no signs of a struggle.” He looked at Simmonds. “No I believe whoever killed your wife knew her, and knew her well. Perhaps it was a friend, a relative, or even a neighbor. Whoever it was she knew them, I’m absolutely certain of that. She knew them and she let them in, or they had a key.”
Simmonds shook his head. “That’s dreadful Mr. Kendall, she actually knew her killer. How awful for her, how wicked. To think that one of her friends, or perhaps a relative, or maybe somebody living next door, went to the flat, and killed her.” He stopped for a moment. “Maybe it was her maid, Janet. No no, not Janet, it couldn’t be.” He looked at Kendall. “But why would anyone want to kill her. It doesn’t make much sense to me. What was the motive?” He paused once again. “Money I suppose,” he said suddenly. “Do we know what was taken?”
“It wasn’t money,” Kendall replied. “As far as we know nothing was taken.”
Simmonds thought for a few moments. “Perhaps one of the kidnappers was actually one of our neighbors,” he suggested. “That would make some sense wouldn’t it?”
Kendall grunted. “Yes I suppose,” he said unconvincingly.
Simmonds shook his head. “You don’t really think so do you?”
“No I don’t,” Kendall replied. “You said so yourself. What was it?” He flipped the pages of his notepad. “I had never seen them before.” Simmonds grinned, and nodded.
Kendall decided to change direction with his line of questions. “Mr. Simmonds not only do I believe the kidnapping and the murder are connected in some way, I also believe that there is a connection with the robbery.”
“Robbery?” Simmonds repeated. “What robbery? You just said nothing was taken.”
Chapter Eighteen
The Marinski Ruby
Kendall ignored the question. “What do you know about the Marinski Ruby?” he asked.
Simmonds looked surprised. “The Ruby?” he repeated. “Nothing I’m afraid. Well very little. I understand that it was found by Evie’s grandfather. It originally belonged to somebody in the Romanov family I think, a cousin or nephew, or something. I don’t really know. History was never my best subject. Anyway he found the jewels in an abandoned disused church, or monastery. He brought it back here. And that’s it. I know nothing more.”
“Where is it now?” Kendall asked.
“At the Bradley house as far as I know,” Simmonds replied. “It was actually stolen from the Bradley home a little over four years ago, Mr. Kendall, as I’m sure you know.” He stopped for a moment, wondering where this was leading. “The whole collection was stolen, the necklace, bracelet, earrings, the ruby itself, everything. Strangely enough though, everything was recovered in a very short time.”
“Of course it was. I remember now,” Kendall said. “Incidentally Mr. Simmonds where were you on the night of the robbery.”
Simmonds shook his head. “I don’t know why you are raking this up Kendall. I’m not sure that I like this line of questions.” He started to rub his chin. “It happened four years ago, and it was thoroughly investigated by the police at that time.”
“I’m sure that it was,” said Kendall. “But, as I said, it is possible that the robbery may also be connected, in some way, with your wife’s murder. So please if you don’t mind, it might just help.”
Simmonds shook his head again. “I can’t see any possible connection,” he replied. “Besides how am I expected to remember something like that, I mean it was four years ago.”
Kendall smiled at him. “Try,” he coaxed. “For my sake, and the sake of your wife. You never know it might be helpful. What harm can it do?”
Simmonds was not convinced. “It’s a complete waste of time, my valuable time, Kendall, but let me think.” He paused, casually glancing around the room. “If I remember correctly it was the night of the Bradley’s anniversary party.” He stopped and thought for a moment. “The twentieth of July, that was the date of their anniversary.” He paused once again, and looked at Kendall. “I know that because it is the same date that Eve and I got married. The twentieth of July.” Once again he stopped, deep in thought. “I remember now, I and three of my friends, had gone to Baltimore.”
“Baltimore?” Kendall repeated. “Why did you go there?”
“It was the big game, the final,” Simmonds replied. “Dallas versus Miami.”
“Oh I see,” replied Kendall, as he scribbled something into his notepad. “Who went with you?”
“Really Kendall this is too much,” Simmonds said indignantly. “Is this absolutely necessary?”
“It might help,” said Kendall. “Humor me, please.”
Simmonds shrugged his shoulders. “Oh all right, there was Frank, Frank Russell that is. Alan Bishop and, who was the third person?” He paused thinking hard. “Jeff,” he announced suddenly. “Jeff Turner. Does that satisfy you?”
Kendall nodded. “Oh sure,” he replied. “Just for the record, though,” he continued. “I’m sure you understand. Those three men, who were they exactly?”
Simmonds looked at Kendall, and shrugged. “You never give up do you?” Kendall smiled and nodded. “They were business associates. They work for me. As a business perk, I had promised to take them on that trip, to see the game.”
“A business perk?” Kendall replied.
“Yes, sure,” replied Simmonds. “It was tax deductible. You know the sort of thing.” He winked his eye.
No, Kendall didn
’t know that sort of thing, but he would certainly look into it. He smiled. “Exactly what kind of business are you in Mr. Simmonds?”
“Let’s just say import and export shall we,” Simmonds replied. “That should cover it I think.”
Kendall smiled. That covered a multitude. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll say import and export, if you like.” It probably wasn’t that important anyway. “Okay, let’s get back to the match, shall we?”
“If you insist,” said Simmonds, a little impatiently.
Kendall ignored the comment. “You are sure that the match was on that date? I mean the date of the anniversary.”
Simmonds smiled. “Absolutely,” he replied.
Kendall looked at Simmonds, a frown spreading across his forehead. “All right, so you were in Baltimore the day of the party, but I still have a slight problem. Perhaps you can help.”
“Out with it Kendall,” Simmonds replied. “Let’s get this over and done with shall we.”
“Thank you Mr. Simmonds, that’s really very good of you.” He stopped and raised his hand. Suddenly he sneezed, and then sneezed again. He shook his head, and took out his handkerchief. “Sorry,” he said. “I got caught in that heavy rain the other day.” He paused and wiped his nose. “On Tuesday, remember. It really came down.”
Simmonds nodded his head. “I know,” he said casually.
Kendall looked up surprised. “You know,” he repeated. “Did it rain in New York as well that day?”
Simmonds looked up surprised, and then quickly nodded his head. “Absolutely, almost the whole day, cats and dogs.”
Kendall smiled. What that actual saying had to do with torrential rainfall he would never understand. The thought of hundreds of felines, and canines falling from the heavens just left him bewildered. “Oh I see,” he said. “For a moment there I thought that you …”
“Your problem, Kendall,” Simmonds said abruptly. Kendall looked puzzled. “You said that you still had a problem.”