by John Holt
Bradley nodded. “I know all about her visiting you, Mr. Kendall,” he said, as he replaced the photograph on the sideboard. “In fact I know quite a lot about you. That property scheme up in Rosemont, for instance, Senator Mackenzie, and the murder of Governor Reynolds.”
Kendall was surprised. “How do you know about that?” he asked.
Bradley smiled. “It’s quite simple really,” he replied. “I make it my business to find out these things.” He pointed to a small buff folder that was lying on his desk. “That file,” he said. “That’s you. Or at least it’s about you. It’s all in there. I was reading it just before you arrived. It makes quite interesting reading.”
Kendall said nothing, but wondered just what the file contained. He was thinking of raising some questions, but then thought better of it.
“Now you were saying Mr. Kendall,” Bradley continued.
Kendall took another drink. “I was saying that she came to see me. She wanted me to find her husband, he had apparently gone missing.”
Bradley smiled. “Yes I had heard that he was nowhere to be seen. He had been kidnapped or something. At least that’s what Eve told me. I tried to persuade her that it was the best thing that could have happened to her. I told her not to pay the ransom. She was well rid of him.” He started to laugh. “A little insensitive of me, I suppose, but there you are.”
Perhaps a little cynical, Kendall thought, but having met Carl Simmonds, he could well understand how Bradley felt. “You don’t like your son-in-law very much do you?” It was more of a statement than a question.
“Mr. Kendall that is an understatement,” Bradley replied. “I think in all honesty I could say that I hated him.”
Kendall was shocked, Bradley had replied with such venom. “You hated him,” he repeated. “I get the impression that his disappearance was actually welcomed, certainly by you.” Bradley nodded. “The best thing that could have happened I think you said.” Once again Bradley nodded. “And yet you still allowed your daughter to marry him. Why?”
Bradley shook his head, and sighed. “Allow is not the word I would have chosen,” he said. “My daughter was a little like me, headstrong. She knew what she wanted. She made up her mind, and that was that. She went ahead. Nothing anyone could do about it. Besides she was over the age of consent.” He took a drink. “Mr. Kendall, can I ask you a personal question?”
Kendall nodded. “You can ask, but I might not answer,” he replied.
“Do you have any children?” Kendall shook his head. “I see, do maybe you wouldn’t understand then.” He shook his head, and sighed. “Mr. Kendall, whatever else happened, at the end of the day, she was my daughter. What can you do?”
Kendall looked at Bradley and smiled. “I suppose you must have been quite pleased then when she decided to get a divorce?”
Bradley looked puzzled. “Well I certainly would have been, if it had been true. I’m afraid that you have got it all wrong Mr. Kendall. Eve did not want a divorce, it was Carl. He was the one.” He paused for a few moments. “He wanted the divorce, but she refused point blank.”
“She refused?” Kendall repeated. “But I understood that she was the one who wanted the divorce.” Kendall thought for a few moments. “She told me that herself.”
Bradley smiled and shook his head. “Eve had told me exactly the same thing some weeks ago, but I knew that it wasn’t true.” He looked back at the photograph. “I don’t know why she said that Mr. Kendall, but she obviously lied to you.” He took a large drink. “What can I say?” He held out his hands. “She just did not want to admit that she had made a mistake perhaps. Headstrong remember.” He raised a hand to his cheek, and brushed away a tear. “You can only do your best can’t you? No more, no less. I tried my very best to protect her, to do the right thing. She knew best though, or thought she did.” He paused once again, his voice beginning to break. “I wanted to be there for her, you know, to support her, to help her.” Tears began to fall down his cheek. “I tried, but I failed. And now, now she’s dead,” he continued. “Her mother died just over a year ago, and now my daughter has gone.” Kendall reached out and placed his hand on Bradley’s arm. Bradley looked into Kendall’s eyes. “Mr. Kendall find her killer for me,” he said slowly. “Please find her killer.”
“I’ll do what I can Mr. Bradley,” Kendall replied. “You can rely on that, but I’ll need your help.”
Bradley smiled and stood up. “Good man,” he said. “Now let me get you another drink.”
Kendall quickly drained his glass, and handed the glass to Bradley. “You know Mr. Bradley, I am convinced that your daughter’s murder and the alleged kidnapping are connected in some way. In fact I also think her death is somehow connected with the robbery that took place here four years ago.”
Bradley looked surprised. “Alleged kidnapping, did you say?”
Kendall nodded. “I’ll explain later,” he said. “But I have reason to believe that there was no actual kidnapping. I am convinced that it was all a deception.”
“Strangely enough I wondered about that kidnapping myself.” Bradley replied as he looked over at the photograph of his daughter. He shook his head, and took a deep breath. “You know Mr. Kendall, for a little while I was actually convinced that my own daughter had been involved in that robbery. Can you imagine that?”
“Why would you think that?” Kendall asked. He stood up and walked over to where Bradley was standing.
Bradley shook his head, and sighed. He slowly started to pour the drinks. “Water, is that right?” he said.
Kendall smiled and nodded. “That’ll be fine,” he answered. “You were saying.”
Bradley looked at him. “That’s right,” he replied, and handed Kendall his drink. “My daughter.” He sighed deeply, and his eyes were glazed. “I saw her that night, the night of the robbery.” He took a drink. “She was standing in the open doorway. Just standing there staring out into the darkness.” He took another drink, and started to walk back to his seat. Kendall followed close by. “It was about half past three I think. I can’t remember whether the clock had actually chimed the half hour or not. It doesn’t matter, not now.” He paused once more, and took a deep breath. “She suddenly waved. It was barely perceptible, but I saw it. She didn’t see me I was at the top of the stairs coming down.” Once again he paused for a few moments. “Mary was about half way down. She must have seen her as well. Strange,” he said almost to himself. “She never mentioned it.”
“Perhaps you were wrong,” suggested Kendall. “Perhaps she didn’t wave. I mean who would she wave to at that time of night?”
“She definitely waved, Mr. Kendall. There’s no mistaking that,” Bradley replied. “In answer to your latter point, she must have waved to somebody she knew.”
“Or thought she knew,” said Kendall.
“As you say Mr. Kendall, or somebody she thought she knew.” Bradley drained his glass. “You know I had assumed, rightly or wrongly, that she was waving to the person who had just robbed me. I had also assumed that my daughter was his … or her, accomplice. I really believed that my daughter had arranged for the alarms to be switched off, the door unlocked, and that she had also provided the combination to the safe.”
“What about Wheeler?” asked Kendall. “Do you think it was him that she had waved to?”
Bradley shook his head. “No I don’t,” he replied. “I actually thought that it was a young man from the village, a young man that she had been seeing regularly, despite my objections.”
“The young man that she subsequently married you mean,” Kendall said. “Carl Simmonds?”
Bradley nodded. “That’s right, Carl Simmonds.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Anyway a few days afterwards it was shown that the robbery had indeed been committed by Wheeler and that was that. The confession note was found, as were the earrings, and then came his suicide. It all seemed very definite.”
“That must have been a bit of a shock to you, though,” Kendall said. �
�I mean Wheeler being the criminal.”
Bradley nodded his head, and looked down at the ground. He shrugged his shoulders and then looked at Kendall. “Your glass is empty,” he said. He stood up, took hold of the empty glass and returned to the side cabinet. He returned a few moments later with two fresh drinks. “Wheeler had been with me for over twenty years,” he said. “The thought of him robbing me would never enter my head.” He handed a glass to Kendall, and then sat down. “Charles shouldn’t have even been at the house that night. I had actually given him the weekend off. He had hurt his arm a day or so before the party, trying to pick something up.”
Bradley shook his head. “It was just too heavy. It slipped, and poor old Charles ended up with a sprained wrist. I told him to take some time off, and rest it.” Bradley took a drink and started to smile. “Charles was having none of it, he said that he could still work, even with it strapped up. After all he was left handed and the damage had occurred to his right arm. So you see there was no problem.” He shook his head again. “Even now though, despite the overwhelming evidence there was against him, despite finding those earrings in his room, and his suicide, and the signed confession, I still cannot believe it.” He took a drink. “But there you are. According to the police Wheeler did in fact commit the crime, end of story.”
“Not quite the end,” said Kendall.
Bradley looked at him, a puzzled look on his face. “What do you mean Mr. Kendall?
“I understand that you actually recovered the rest of the jewels,” Kendall replied. “Is that correct?” Bradley nodded. “You had received a letter offering them back on payment of a large sum of money, also correct?”
Once again Bradley nodded. “That’s right. They wanted two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The jewels would then all be returned. No questions asked.” He thought for a few moments. “I may still have the letter somewhere.”
“And you paid them the money?” Kendall asked.
“Oh yes,” Bradley replied. “I followed the instructions to the letter. I had to drive out of town, about twelve miles. There at the side of the road I would find a milestone. You know one of those old concrete posts sunk into the ground.” He thought for a few more moments. “This one had been uprooted, I think.” He paused. “Funny how one remembers trivial things like that, but sometimes you cannot remember what you were doing twenty minutes ago.”
Kendall nodded. He knew the feeling. Only in his case it was nearer ten minutes ago.
“I was to drive two hundred yards passed the marker, and park leaving the car unlocked,” Bradley continued. “Then I was to walk back to the mile marker, and place the money underneath the stone. I would find the jewels on the back seat of the car, when I got back.”
He stood up. “Let me see if I can find the letter for you, for what it is worth.” He walked over to a bureau in the corner of the room. He unlocked the bottom drawer, and shuffled through the papers that it contained. After a few minutes he took out an old brown folder. He placed it on the desk, and opened it. He slowly turned the papers inside. “These are all about the robbery,” he explained. “Ah here it is,” he said, picking up a single sheet of light blue paper. He handed it to Kendall. “That’s the letter I received.”
Kendall instantly recognized the notepaper, it was the same type that he had seen in Eve’s apartment. He slowly read through the document. He noticed that there was no signature. He also noticed that the handwriting was very similar to the handwriting that he had seen quite recently, on those ransom notes. “So were the jewels there when you got back to your car?” he asked.
Bradley nodded. “Unbelievable I know, but everything was there, the ring, the necklace, and the ruby, everything.”
“Not so unbelievable when you think about it,” said Kendall. “After all what could they do with the jewels? They could never sell them could they? They were far too well known. In fact that would have been a major disadvantage. No the sooner they got rid of them, the better. Far more preferable would be to have a large sum of money.”
“That makes good sense, Mr. Kendall,” said Bradley. “Anyway I got them back. I had to pay a lot of money, but considerably less than what the jewels were actually worth.”
Kendall took a drink. “The letter, the one asking for the money, that was received some time after Wheeler had died, is that correct?”
Bradley nodded once again. “Oh I see where you are going,” he said. “There must have been an accomplice who was still roaming free, someone who sent that letter.” It was Kendall turn to nod in agreement. “Certainly there was an accomplice, but he, or she was never caught. And with Wheeler dead he wasn’t going to give any information away was he.”
Kendall was still puzzled. “Mr. Bradley why did you stop the police from investigating the robbery?” he asked. “I mean as we have just said Wheeler, if indeed Wheeler was the culprit, must have had an accomplice. Didn’t you want them caught?”
“You are absolutely right, of course Mr. Kendall,” Bradley replied. He took a deep breath. “It’s odd, but when I received that letter concerning the return of the jewels I never gave a thought to Wheeler. I still had thoughts that the accomplice might have been Eve. That’s why I stopped the investigation. I suppose I did not really want to know the truth.” He paused. “Later of course I dismissed the whole idea that Eve was involved.”
“Why was that?” Kendall asked.
“Oh I don’t know exactly,” Bradley replied. “A number of reasons I suppose. It did seem somewhat ridiculous. I mean why would she do it? She certainly did not need the money.” He sighed once again. “Besides I had the jewels back, at a cost admittedly, but still only a fraction of their true worth. So I decided to cut my losses and not pursue the matter any further. Of course the police carried on their investigation for a while. They never found out anything though, and that fizzled out after a while. Besides they had the main culprit, so they were reasonably satisfied.”
Kendall remained silent for a few moments. He took a drink. “By the way the robbery actually took place on the night of your anniversary, right?” he asked.
“Not quite, Mr. Kendall,” Bradley replied. “Our anniversary was the twentieth of July. That year the twentieth was on a Thursday, so we arranged for the party to be on the following Saturday. That would be the twenty-second.”
“The twenty-second,” Kendall repeated. “How interesting.”
Bradley looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean Mr. Kendall?” he asked.
Kendall ignored the question. “For what it is worth, Mr. Bradley, I don’t think you daughter had anything whatsoever to do with that robbery.” Bradley looked up and smiled. “But Carl Simmonds, well who knows, that might be a different story entirely. There is one thing that I can tell you about Mr. Simmonds though. He was not being held against his will in New York. There was no kidnapping, of that I am absolutely certain.”
Bradley looked surprised. “Why do you say that?” he asked.
“Simmonds was never in New York,” Kendall replied. “At the time your daughter was receiving those ransom letters, and when she actually made the payment, he was staying in a luxury house in Key Largo.”
Bradley looked startled. “Key Largo,” he repeated. “I don’t understand. Why would he stage a kidnapping like that? What would be the point?”
“I have my suspicions,” Kendall replied. “Sadly I can’t prove anything, not yet, so I’ll keep my thoughts to myself. But one thing I am sure of is that Carl Simmonds went to great lengths to make us believe that he was in New York, a thousand miles away, when all the time he was no more than seventy miles away in Key Largo.”
Bradley looked at Kendall. “Do you think there is any connection with my daughter’s death?” he asked.
“I would rather not say anything at present,” Kendall replied. “Let me just say that I am not a great believer in co-incidence.” He took a drink. He sighed. “Now about the anniversary party, Mr. Bradley, I imagine that there were quite a fe
w guests that night?”
Bradley looked disappointed. He shrugged his shoulders. “Mr. Kendall, like you, I do not believe in co-incidence. I would therefore be very pleased to hear your views when you are ready to tell me.” He took a large drink. He started to smile. “Let’s talk about the party shall we.” He took another drink. “It was quite an elaborate affair,” he explained. “There were about forty or fifty people there, friends, colleagues, neighbors. You know the sort of thing.”
Kendall nodded. Of course he knew. He thought for a few moments, calculating in his mind. If, and he did mean if, he ever held such a party, he would be hard pressed to get a dozen people together. “Did that include Carl Simmonds?” he asked.
Bradley shook his head. “It most certainly did not,” he retorted indignantly. “As I said it was friends, colleagues and neighbors. Mr. Simmonds did not fit into either of those categories.”
Kendall nodded once again, and gave a sigh. That was certainly clear enough. Bradley really did not like Simmonds did he?
“Forty or fifty people, that’s quite a gathering,” he said. “I suppose anyone of them could have carried out the robbery. I mean they would all have had the opportunity.”
Bradley shook his head. “No way Mr. Kendall,” he replied. “I trust everyone of them, and there is no way that any of them would have been implicated in such a thing. So please put that idea completely out of your mind.”
Kendall shrugged his shoulders. “If you say so,” he said. “But I still think …” Bradley held his hand up and shook his head. “Right,” said Kendall. “Have it your way. We’ll leave it at that.” He thought for a few moments. “Did anything strange happen that night, anything strike you?” he asked.
Bradley looked puzzled. “For example?”
Kendall shook his head. “I don’t really know,” he replied. “Just something, anything unusual or unexpected that’s all.”