Kendall - Private Detective - Box Set

by John Holt

  “You’re right, absolutely right,” said Kendall. “I did say that didn’t I?” Once again he took a handkerchief and wiped his nose. “I’ll take something for this later, a panadol, or something.” He smiled mischievously. “Or maybe I’ll have a hot toddy. You know hot lemon, and whiskey, lots of whiskey.”

  “If we could just deal with your problem, Kendall,” Simmonds said. “I am rather a busy man you know.”

  “Right, of course you are,” Kendall said. “I’ll get right to it.” He flipped his notepad. After a few moments he found the page he was looking for. “Here we are,” he announced. “I understand that you had been seeing Eve Bradley for some little while before the robbery. Is that right?”

  “That’s correct,” said Simmonds. “So what’s the problem?”

  “Oh no, Mr. Simmonds, don’t get me wrong. There’s no problem with that, absolutely not,” Kendall replied quickly. “I mean what could be a problem?” He smiled. “No my problem is why you never went to the party, I mean why were you in Baltimore at the Time?” He looked up from his notepad. “Did it not occur to you to go to that party, I mean with Eve? I mean she would have wanted you with her, wouldn’t she?”

  Simmonds started to laugh. “Oh I see where you are coming from Kendall,” he replied. “It’s a good question.” He paused, shaking his head. “You are probably correct. She certainly would have liked me to go. I would have liked to have been there. But there wasn’t a snow-flakes chance in hell that I would be going to that party,” he continued. “Not a million to one chance. Not a trillion to one.”

  Kendall looked surprised. “Oh why was that?” he asked.

  Simmonds shrugged his shoulders. “Kendall, at that time, Eve and I had been together for about seven or eight weeks. It was getting serious, if you know what I mean.” Kendall said nothing and merely nodded his head wisely. “But I knew that I would never be invited to that party. You see Eve’s father did not approve of me. In fact he hated me.” He gave a sigh. “Still does I imagine,” he continued. “I haven’t spoken to him since Eve and I got married. I knew that there would be a celebration that day, and I also knew that I would not be going. Mr. Bradley would see to that. So I was at perfect liberty to go to the game. So that is exactly what I did.”

  “Well that clears that little problem up,” said Kendall. “I hate these little incidentals don’t you?” He wrote something down in his pad. “So what happened after the game?” he continued.

  Simmonds looked puzzled. “What happened? What do you mean, what happened,” he replied. “We stayed the night, had a few drinks.” He started to laugh. “More than a few,” he continued. “And we got back to Florida late the next day.” He thought for a moment. “In fact it was after midnight, so it was really the day after,” he continued. “That would be early in the morning of the twenty-second.”

  Kendall made another note in his pad. “Thank you Mr. Simmonds,” he replied. “That seems to put you in the clear.”

  Simmonds laughed. “Put me in the clear,” he repeated. “That sounds onerous. Was I one of your suspects?”

  “Yes Mr. Simmonds, you were indeed,” replied Kendall. “At this stage of an investigation I suspect everyone, until they are eliminated that is. But as I say that puts you in the clear.” He stopped for a few moments, idly shuffling some papers on the desk in front of him. “Incidentally who won the game?”

  “Who won the game?” Simmonds repeated. “I’m sorry, I really can’t remember. Dallas I think, but I’m not sure. Was it important?”

  Kendall shrugged. “Probably not,” he replied. “Just another of those little incidentals I mentioned, that’s all. Now about your wife, can you think of anyone who would want to kill her?”

  Simmonds looked pensive. “I don’t really have any idea, but I suppose it might have been that kidnapper that you mentioned. Perhaps she hadn’t made the ransom payment after all.”

  “Well that’s certainly a possibility,” said Kendall. Then he shook his head once again. “The only thing is if the ransom hadn’t been paid it wouldn’t have been Mrs. Simmonds who was murdered, it would have been you I’m afraid. Anyway she did make the payment. About three hours before she was murdered.”

  “You’re sure of that?” Simmonds asked.

  Kendall nodded his head. “Oh yes very sure,” he replied. “I was with her.”

  Simmonds thought for a few moments. “Well it could have been an intruder, someone who broke in, and perhaps she disturbed him while in the act of stealing.” Then Simmonds started to shake his head. “But you said that there were no signs of a break in or a forced entry.”

  “That’s absolutely right,” Kendall replied. “We are absolutely convinced that she knew her killer, and knew him, or her, very well. She either let him in or he was in the apartment waiting for her.”

  “Why do you think that?” Simmonds asked.

  “Well apart from anything else, sitting on the coffee table were two glasses, both contained the remains of a twelve year old whiskey,” Kendall replied. “You can be sure she would not have opened up a bottle like that for a complete stranger.”

  “I’m not being much help, am I?”

  “Oh you’re doing okay, considering,” said Kendall. “Carry on.”

  Simmonds thought for a few more moments. “Well I am really stumped,” he said. “The only other possibility that I can think of is that it might have been her accomplice.”

  Kendall looked up quickly. “Her accomplice,” he repeated. What accomplice?

  Simmonds looked at him, and shook his head. “That’s right, how would you know?” he said. “I’m talking about the robbery, the Marinski Ruby, you know.” Kendall said nothing, but nodded. Simmonds took a deep breath. “You are probably right. there is a definite possibility of a connection between that robbery, and Eve’s murder.” He took a breath. “It has never been mentioned before, not while she was alive, but I have always thought that it was Eve who had committed that robbery, her and an accomplice. She made sure that the door was unlocked. She made sure that the security cameras were off. Her accomplice simply walked in and stole the jewels.”

  Kendall looked surprised. “Well that’s quite a thought,” he said. “And you never said anything until now.”

  “That’s right Kendall,” he replied. “I couldn’t say anything, not while she was alive, but ever since that night I have always thought that she had been involved. I mean it had to be someone inside the house who switched off the security, and unlocked the door. And she was seen, at the open door, waving to someone in the darkness.”

  Kendall couldn’t believe what he was hearing, it was just too fantastic. “Why would she want to steal what were, in effect, her own jewels?” Kendall asked. “I mean they were part of her vast inheritance, she couldn’t have been short of a dollar or two.”

  Simmonds looked up. “That’s easy,” he replied. “Firstly they would not have been hers until her father was dead. That could be many years in the future.” He paused for a moment. “However, the main reason for stealing the jewels was simply to get back at her father.”

  “To get back at her father,” Kendall repeated. “What do you mean by that?”

  Simmonds thumped the desk, and sat forward. “Mr. Kendall, Eve’s father can be very dictatorial. You haven’t met him yet have you?” Kendall shook his head. “You are in for a treat.” He paused once again. He took a deep breath. “He likes getting his own way. He exerts great control over his family, especially Eve. He even tried to stop her marrying me. He dislikes me so much you see.”

  “And yet she did marry you?” he said. Simmonds said nothing. Kendall thought for a few more moments. “There’s one more thing though, one thing that still puzzles me.”

  “Yes Mr. Kendall,” Simmonds replied. “What exactly is it that puzzles you? Maybe I can help.”

  Kendall started to grin. “You mentioned the accomplice,” he replied. “I’m puzzled. I thought that the robbery had been carried out by Charles Wheel
er, the butler, so he would have been the accomplice wouldn’t he? And, as I understand it, he committed suicide shortly afterwards. So he could not be her murderer could he? Unless of course there was a second accomplice.

  Simmonds shook his head. “Wheeler wasn’t the accomplice,” he said. “Oh yes it certainly looked as though he was, what with finding the earrings, and then the suicide. But I’m sure that it wasn’t Wheeler. That was all staged, made to look like him.”

  Kendall nodded. It was certainly a possibility that he had not considered. “Go on Mr. Simmonds,” he said.

  “Well it’s only a theory, you understand,” Simmonds continued. “But I believe Wheeler actually saw the accomplice commit the robbery, and tried to blackmail Eve. That’s why he was murdered.”

  “So Eve murdered Wheeler is that what you are suggesting?” Kendall asked.

  Simmonds shook his head. “No. not Eve, she wouldn’t hurt a fly.” He shook his head again. “No I’m suggesting the accomplice, whoever that was, killed Wheeler.”

  “Interesting thought,” Kendall said. “And who do you think the accomplice was?”

  Simmonds shook his head again, and smiled. “I’m sorry Mr. Kendall I have absolutely no idea.”

  Kendall smiled. “Just as I thought,” he said. He paused for a moment. “Well that’s about all for now,” he continued. “Thank you very much, you have been very helpful.” He stood up. “Let me show you to the door.

  * * *

  After Simmonds had gone Kendall dialed Miami airport. “Hello could you put me through to United Airlines,” he said as the phone was answered on the second ring. The line went dead for a few moments.

  “United Airlines,” a voice suddenly said. “What can I do for you?

  “I’m enquiring about today’s United flight 426 from Newark,” Kendall explained. “Could you tell me if Mr. Carl Simmonds was a passenger on that flight?”

  “I’m sorry sir but we are not at liberty to give out that kind of information,” the voice replied hesitantly. “Would you mind telling me who you are sir,” the voice asked. “And why you want that information.”

  Kendall grunted. That was not the response you wanted. He took a deep breath. “This is Miami Police Department,” he said. “Detective Devaney speaking, I’m just making a routine enquiry. Now can you answer the question please.”

  The voice at United knew that there was no such thing as the police just making a routine enquiry. He knew that the police only asked questions for specific, although unspecified, reasons. “Let me check for you,” the voice replied. The line went dead for a split second, and then the recorded music cut in. A few minutes later the voice was back. “Sorry to keep you,” he said. “Yes sir, Carl Simmonds was a passenger on that flight.”

  That was not what Kendall expected to hear. “Just one more thing,” he said. “What time did the plane land?”

  There was a momentary pause. “That was at 12.25,” the voice replied. “That’s twenty-five minutes past twelve, this afternoon. It was about twenty-five minutes late due to bad weather in the Washington area.”

  “Thank you,” said Kendall almost in a whisper, as he replaced the receiver. Kendall shook his head. A little disappointing, he thought. Then he shook his head and took a deep breath. All right so he flew back from New York today. But that didn’t necessarily prove that he had been in that city all of the time, did it. He started to smile once again. It was something that he was going to check on, and quite soon.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Miami International Airport

  Kendall stepped down from the Airport shuttle bus, and walked into the departure area. It was crowded, just as it probably had been on the night that Simmonds had disappeared, the night that he went to New York. Kendall looked at his watch. Nine oh five, it was almost exactly the same time as well. He looked over at the large clock in the centre of the concourse. “Nine oh seven,” he said, and shook his head. Its two minutes fast. He smiled mischievously. You would think a major airport would have a clock that told the correct time.

  He slowly looked around. According to the Internet, Miami International Airport was the third busiest airport in the United States, behind JFK in New York, and Los Angeles. Kendall had looked it up the night before. As he watched the crowds of people going back and forth Kendall would not have been surprised had he been told that Miami International was actually the busiest airport in the United States. Over thirty million passengers used this airport, in one year, more than a half a million people every week.

  It never failed to amaze Kendall that no matter what time it was, day or night, week in, week out, month after month, year after year, there were always people travelling. People coming in from places far and near, and other people flying off to exotic destinations. There were the holidaymakers, and there were the business travellers and even the commuter. Hundreds of them, maybe even thousands. It has been said that at any given moment in time, there were at least one million people flying somewhere in the world, every day exactly the same. Kendall didn’t know whether that figure was correct, or whether it was wildly exaggerated. He looked along the concourse, and then up on to the next level. Somehow it didn’t seem like an exaggeration. And somehow it looked like they were all here today, all one million of them.

  Kendall suddenly remembered something that Mollie had said about the kidnapping. Unless, of course the kidnappers picked him up at Miami airport, and forced him to switch planes.

  Kendall looked at the crowds of people. He tried to imagine Simmonds actually being taken away by force by those two men, with all of this activity going on around them. Then he started to smile, as he remembered something else, something about security. He was absolutely right, security was indeed tight. Everywhere you looked there were armed guards. Things had certainly changed in the last few years, and sadly not for the better. It was the way of the world he supposed, had been since 9/11. It was the same the whole world over.

  He shrugged his shoulders. Ah well, back to business. He looked around once more. There over on the far side of the concourse was what he was looking for, the United Airlines desk. There was a small queue of people checking in for the United 38 flight to Chicago. On the next desk was the check in for the Continental flight to New York, which was due to depart twenty minutes after the United Airlines flight. It was actually that New York flight that Simmonds had apparently been on. Kendall had a few questions to ask at both of these desks. He looked at the line of people waiting to check in. It would not be too long now before they were seen to, and the desks would be clear.

  He looked over at the departures board. The Chicago flight was due to take off in a little over twenty-five minutes. Kendall estimated that both check-ins should be virtually clear in another twenty or thirty minutes at the most, just enough time for a quick coffee, and a small snack.

  He turned away from the check-in area, and hurried through the concourse, past the line of car hire counters, past the foreign exchange counters, and past the Information desks. Continuing on past the gift shops, and the newsagents, he eventually arrived in the food hall. A short distance further along was a Starbucks. It was right next door to a Burger King. What was it to be? Decisions, decisions. A double cheeseburger, with lettuce and tomato, and lashings of onions, just the way he liked it, and a portion of fries on the side, or a simple blueberry muffin?

  Reluctantly he decided on a Starbucks coffee, and one of their blueberry muffins. Less calories he reasoned. He joined the queue at the coffee shop. A few minutes later he had placed his order and moved over to a corner table, and sat down. It wasn’t long before the young waitress came over with his order. As she placed the tray down in front of him, the words five hundred and sixty five calories suddenly flashed into his mind. He wasn’t sure why. He casually wondered how much jogging he would need to do to burn that of. He looked at the waitress and smiled. She smiled back. “Enjoy,” she said. “Have a nice day, sir.” She then hurried back to the counter.

 
; * * *

  Twenty minutes later Kendall returned to the check in area. As he walked towards the United Airlines desk the assistant looked up and saw him. He glanced to his left, at the Departure board. Then he returned his gaze towards Kendall. He held up his hand, and shook his head. “You’re too late, sir,” he said. “The boarding gate is already closed. The plane is about to take off.”

  “It’s okay, I’m not actually flying,” said Kendall. He walked up to the counter. “I’m after some information that’s all. I hope that you can help me.”

  The assistant sighed, that was all he needed. He had nothing else to do did he, except to sit around answering a lot of stupid questions, wasting his valuable time. It had been a long hard day, and he should have left for home hours ago. Then, out of the blue, that extra shift had been put on him.

  * * *

  “Sorry Joe,” the supervisor had said. “We are so short of staff tonight, what with Pete going sick and ….”

  “Please, give me a break,” Joe had thought. They were always sorry, but it didn’t help did it. Okay so Pete was sick, was that his fault? No it wasn’t his fault. So they were short of staff. Was that is fault? No it wasn’t his fault. Just what would they do if he just said, no, I’m sorry I can’t do the extra shift. They would have to manage without him, right. Right, he thought. Joe shook his head, and tried to imagine his Supervisor managing without him, and doing the shift himself. He shook his head once again. He couldn’t visualize the Supervisor sitting behind the check-in counter. He couldn’t cope with the stress.

  He shrugged his shoulders. He really didn’t need it, did he? No, he murmured, he didn’t need it. Although he had to admit that the overtime would come in handy. The extra money was always welcome, but especially so now. There had been a lot of unexpected expenses lately what with repairs on the car, and those school uniforms to buy. Food bills going up all the time, then there was that new washing machine his wife had her eye on. Then, of course the taxman wanted his share. It was never ending. There was always someone with his or her hand out.