by John Holt
“Great show,” Kendall replied. “I saw it in New York, at the Majestic, years ago.” He paused for a few moments, and shook his head. “Nineteen years ago to be precise. 1989, how time flies.”
The chauffeur nodded in agreement. “It certainly does,” he agreed. “Anyway she enjoyed it.”
Kendall looked down at the notepad in his hand. He then looked at the chauffeur and smiled. “Maybe you’ll get to see it yourself one day. So what did you do that evening?”
“What did I do,” Chambers repeated. “I just took some aspirin, and a hot drink, and went to bed. I thought that an early night would do the trick and that I would feel better the next day.”
Kendall smiled. “Works for me,” he said. “I usually take a hot lemon drink with some whiskey.” He started to laugh. “I don’t know if it any good or not. It certainly tastes pretty good anyway.”
“I take that as well,” said Chambers. “Although not too much lemon, it spoils the taste of the whiskey.” He started to laugh. Kendall joined in.
“So did it work?” Kendall asked after awhile.
Chambers shook his head. “No it didn’t,” he replied. “I couldn’t sleep what with the noise of the party. My window overlooks the lawn where the marquee was,” he explained. “I just lay there tossing and turning for ages. Eventually I got up and went over to the window.” He paused for a moment. “It’s funny I thought that by looking out at the marquee that somehow the noise would stop. I glared at it, willing the noise to cease so that I could get to sleep.” He smiled. “And guess what?” Kendall said nothing, but waited expectantly. Chambers smiled. “It didn’t stop. It just went on and on.”
“You know I’ve done that myself,” said Kendall. “If someone is annoying me, or disturbing me, I stare at them, thinking that will stop them. Sometimes when I’m waiting for someone, I’d stare in the direction that they should come from. I would just stare and stare, and I would say things like come on, where are you?” He smiled. “Just as though I could somehow make them appear. I did it the other day. It was quite amazing really. I was waiting for someone and they were very late. Well I just stared and stared. And I murmured over and over, come on, where are you.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“So what happened?” asked Chambers.
“What do you mean, what happened?” Kendall asked.
Chambers shook his head and gave a deep sign. “Did they come along?” he asked.
Kendall smiled, and shook his head. “Don’t be foolish,” he said. “Of course they didn’t come. They never turned up. Your noise didn’t stop did it? My appointment never showed up. All of that staring it never worked for you did it? And it certainly never worked for me either.” He paused once again. Chambers said nothing, but merely nodded his head. “When you looked out of the window did you notice anything unusual?”
Chambers nodded. “Well now that you mention it yes I did. I could see Mary’s car over by the woods. She was there for a few minutes, and then she drove down the side of the garages into the yard.” He paused for a few moments. “I thought I had heard it earlier, at about twelve, or a little before. There was no mistaking her old car. It used to rattle.” He paused and nodded his head. “That’s the word, rattle. It still does.”
Kendall started to laugh. He understood completely, his old Ford used to rattle. It didn’t matter what he did to it, he could never stop that rattle. “My old car was exactly the same,” he said. “I used to call it the Bill Haley.” Chambers said nothing, but looked puzzled. “You know, Shake Rattle and Roll.”
He smiled at Chambers. Chambers smiled back. Kendall then started to scribble something in his pad. “Mary? That’s Mary Dwyer, yes?” Chambers nodded. “What time was that?” he asked. “When you saw her car?”
Chambers thought for a few moments. “About one o’clock I think.” He stopped and thought again. “No, it might have been a little earlier than that, maybe a quarter to, something like that.” He thought for a few more moments. “No I’m sorry I’m not really sure. Was it important?”
Kendall made another note in his pad. “Probably not,” he replied. “Why do you think she had stopped?” he asked.
“I don’t really know, I never really gave it any thought,” Chambers replied. “I suppose it could have been for any number of reasons. The car could have stalled, or something. It was always doing that.” He smiled at the thought. “Maybe a rabbit ran into the road in front of her. Or perhaps she had seen something in the woods.”
Kendall looked up. “Seen something in the woods?” he repeated. “What do you mean something?”
Chambers shook his head. “Oh I don’t know what I mean really,” he replied. “I’m only thinking aloud, but maybe she saw something that was somehow connected to the robbery, a shadow or someone.” He paused and started to rub his chin. “Who knows she might have actually seen the robber.”
Kendall looked at Chambers. He thought for a few moments. “If she had seen something like that, she never reported it to anyone,” he said. “I wonder why not?”
Chambers shook his head. “Maybe she never saw anyone,” he suggested. “She had probably just stalled, simple as that.”
Kendall shrugged. Maybe, but there again, maybe not. “Where does Mary usually keep her car?” he asked.
Chambers looked up from his cleaning, and pointed over to the yard. “There it is,” he said, as he pointed to his right. “It’s that old Ford over by the stables.” Kendall looked over to where Chambers had indicated. He started to laugh. The car was exactly like the one that he used to have.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Car Crash
Although there was no obvious reason that he could think off, Kendall was curious about that car crash. He would not have been able to tell you why, it made no sense at all. He was just curious that was all, nosey if you like. It was a hunch maybe, or perhaps just a feeling. Whatever it was he was like a dog with a bone. He just would not let go. He wanted to know as much about it as he possibly could. It was probably all due to his training. What did they say at the Department? Everything was important until you proved that it wasn’t. That was not exactly right, but it was something like that anyway. It would have to do.
Whatever the reason, he had been in the local library, sitting at the microfiche reader, for over three hours now, checking one old newspaper report after another. Slowly turning the handle, first one way, and then the other, backwards and forwards he went, over and over again. He had checked every issue of the Miami Herald, The Dade County Record, and The Daily News, and several other newspapers, for September 2005, and was now half way through October. So far there had been nothing. Not a whisper. It was probably not important enough. And yet there had been no end of reports regarding car crashes, many of them far less serious. Some of them had actually been on Highway 41. But there had been no mention of that particular crash involving a certain Jack Warner.
This was going nowhere fast. What was the point anyway? Was there any connection between the crash, and the robbery up at Rutland Hall? Unlikely, how could there be? Was there any connection between the crash and the kidnapping? Again most unlikely. Was there any connection between the crash and the murder of Eve Simmonds? No there wasn’t.
So why was he knocking himself out like this? Why all the time and trouble, he asked himself. He did not know the answer. Perhaps he was just curious, that’s all. Stubborn more like. “I’ll finish October, and then I’ll call it a day,” he told himself. Two hours later he had reached November the ninth. Still there was nothing. He shook his head for the umpteenth time. Perhaps he had just missed it. Perhaps it was such a small item, tucked away in one of the middle pages and he had just not seen it. Perhaps he had seen it but did not recognize it for what it was. He shook his head, and gave a deep sigh. And perhaps it had just never happened.
There was a sudden noise of chairs being moved over to his left hand side. He looked up. People were beginning to leave. He looked at
his watch. It was late and the library was now closing. Like it or not, he had to call it a day. Whether the accident had happened or not was still not known, still unresolved. Had he proved anything? No he hadn’t. But on the other hand he hadn’t disproved anything either. He switched off the machine. He stood up, and gave a sigh of disappointment. He looked down at the table and saw the blank page of his open notepad staring back at him. He picked up the pad and flipped it closed. He then quickly walked towards the exit and out into the street. It was getting dark. He looked up at the sky. There was a red glow in the west. “Red sky at night,” he murmured. “Shepherds delight.”
It was going to be a good day tomorrow he thought.
* * *
“I spent hours and hours,” Kendall said. “My eyes were going crazy.” He looked at his notepad and threw it on the desk. “Nothing, zilch, nada, not a thing.” He looked over at Mollie. “The crash wasn’t mentioned anywhere, not a word.”
“Well maybe it wasn’t September,” she said. “Perhaps it was August, or even October,” she suggested helpfully.
“I checked August, and October, and November,” Kendall replied wearily. “There was absolutely nothing.”
“Well perhaps it was reported in a different newspaper, not The Herald,” she said. “What about The Dade County Record?”
“I checked it,” Kendall replied. “Nothing.”
Mollie shook her head, and sighed. “The Daily News.” Kendall shook his head. “The Keys Gazette.” Kendall shook his head again. Mollie paused, thinking hard. “The Everglades Sentinel.”
Kendall shook his head once again. “I checked it,” he said. “I checked them all. I never realized there were so many newspapers. You name it, and I checked it. I found nothing, absolutely nothing. Not a word.”
Mollie shook her head, thinking hard. “So it wasn’t mentioned, what about it,” she said casually. “Maybe the newspaper didn’t think it was that important, not interesting enough. Not newsworthy.”
Kendall shook his head. No, that wasn’t right. He looked at Mollie. “So how come other accidents were reported?” he asked. “Even some that were far less serious.” He held his hands up. “Tell me that if you can.”
Mollie did not know the answer to that one. “I’ve no idea,” she said. She thought for a moment or two, and then she smiled. “Perhaps the papers just didn’t know about it,” she suggested helpfully. “Perhaps they just missed it.” She looked at Kendall. “Or better yet, maybe they already had enough news for that day. They didn’t need anything more.”
Kendall was staring across the room. “And maybe, it just never happened,” he murmured. He looked at Mollie. “Maybe there was no accident.”
Mollie looked puzzled. “That’s nonsense,” she replied. “Of course it happened. Those security guards told you about didn’t they?”
Kendall nodded. “Yes, they did,” he replied. He did not sound convinced.
“All this fussing about a car crash that happened four years ago,” she said. “What does it matter anyway? Why is it so important?”
Kendall shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure,” he replied. “It might be nothing. Not important at all.”
“So why all the questions?” Mollie asked.
Kendall shook his head again. “There’s just something nagging away at me,” he said. He paused for a few minutes. “I don’t really know what it is.” Mollie gave a sigh, and looked at him. He had his head down and was drumming his fingers impatiently on the desk. “Mary left the party that evening, at about midnight,” Kendall continued. “She returned about a quarter to one. Just over two hours later the robbery takes place.” He stopped tapping the table, and started to rub his chin. “Was it just a co-incidence?” he asked nobody in particular. “I don’t think so,” he murmured.
“Perhaps it was the boyfriend who committed the robbery,” Mollie suggested jokingly. “Perhaps Mary was the insider, and not Wheeler.”
“Could be,” said Kendall, without looking up. “But then why would Wheeler leave that confession?”
Mollie looked at Kendall, and shook her head. “No it wasn’t Mary,” she murmured. After all it was Eve who had been seen waving to someone in the darkness, and not Mary. Why would Eve wave at Mary’s boy friend? This was going nowhere.
She looked down at her desk wishing that she could help. She started tapping her fingers nervously on her desk. As she did so she accidentally knocked the computer mouse. “I know,” she suddenly announced enthusiastically. “I’ll do a Google search. We’ll scan the Internet. We’re bound to find it.” She started to tap the computer keys. Kendall got up and walked over to her desk, watching intensely. “To start with I’ll type in Highway 41 accidents, and see what happens.” She pressed the keys. The screen flashed, and a list of items appeared. She quickly trawled through the list. There was nothing obviously relevant. “All right,” she said. “Let’s try the name.” She typed in Jack Warner. The screen flashed once again and another list appeared. She started to look through. “Jack Warner, a local plumber,” she read. “The Tyler Affair” a novel by Jack Warner; Professor Jack L Warner, University of Chicago; Jack L Warner, film producer,” she said. She looked up at Kendall. “There’s hundreds of Jack Warners here, I’ve no idea which one is our Jack Warner, if any.”
“Is there anything about a car crash?” Kendall asked hopefully.
She shook her head. She was bitterly disappointed. The Google search had been such a good idea she thought, but it was not working out the way that she had hoped. Oh sure, it had turned up no end of information, pages and pages of it. The world was full of Jack Warners but not their Jack Warner, not Mary Dwyer’s boy friend. Regrettably none of the information was the least bit relevant to their enquiry. She looked at Kendall and sighed. “Sorry,” she said quite simply. “I did try.”
Kendall smiled, patted her arm, and kissed her on the forehead. “Not to worry,” he said. “It was a good try anyway. It’s not your fault.” He looked at the computer screen, and shook his head. “I’ll speak to Devaney tomorrow. If anyone is going to know, then he should.” He bent down and kissed her again. “You start to type up everything that we have,” he continued. “And I’ll make some coffee shall I?” He started towards the kitchen door. He stopped at the doorway, and turned around to face her. “And some of those chocolate biscuits.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ann Wheeler
Mollie started to type up her notes. Put down everything we know about Jack Warner, Kendall had said. Everything. Mollie shook her head. That shouldn’t take too long, she murmured. They actually knew very little. He was Mary’s boyfriend, and it seemed that nobody liked him. That was it, end of story. Oh yes, and he was killed in a car crash apparently. Disappointingly the Google search had shown up nothing at all. Kendall’s search of the old newspapers in the library had produced nothing either.
She looked over at Kendall. He was staring at the screen of his computer intensely. He was obviously very busy. Mollie idly wondered what he was actually doing. She was tempted to walk over and take a peek, and find out, but she thought better of it, and quickly dismissed the idea from her mind. It was obviously very important judging by the way he was concentrating. She then looked back at the monitor screen in front of her, and then looked down at the keys. She thought for a moment or two and then she continued typing. Kendall looked over at her and smiled. He then went back to playing Spider Solitaire on his computer.
There was a single tap on the door. Kendall looked up. “Come in”, he called out, as he closed down his game. There came another sharp tap. “Come in,” he called again, louder this time.
Mollie looked at him and glared. “Don’t worry,” she said. “Don’t trouble yourself. You just take it easy, I’ll get it.” She stood up, went to the door and opened it. Standing at the doorway was a young girl. In her hand she was clutching a large carrier bag. “Yes,” Mollie said to her gently. “Can we help you?”
The girl looked down at
the ground, and slowly shook her head. Slowly she looked up and said very quietly, “I hope so.”
Mollie looked over at Kendall and shrugged her shoulders. Kendall shook his head slowly. Mollie led the girl into the room. She was clearly nervous, her hands were shaking, and her breathing was laboured. Kendall stood up. “Do come in Miss er?” he said.
“Its Wheeler,” she replied barely audibly. “Ann Wheeler.” She stopped for a moment, waiting for a response. None came. “I am the daughter of Charles Wheeler.”
Kendall looked at her surprised. “Do sit down Miss Wheeler,” he said indicating a chair opposite. “Mollie, could you bring some coffee please. I’m sure that Miss Wheeler would like one.” Miss Wheeler simply nodded her head, and sat down. He looked over at Mollie. “And don’t forget the …..”
“I won’t,” said Mollie, interrupting him.
Kendall grunted, and turned back to his visitor. “Now Miss Wheeler, what can we do for you?” he asked.
“I saw you there the other day,” she said. “Up at the Hall.” She took a deep breath, trying to settle her nerves. “I was in one of the upstairs room,” she continued. “I saw you leaving. You suddenly stopped and turned around. I thought that you had seen me.” Kendall suddenly remembered the curtain moving. She looked up as Mollie came back carrying a tray. “Mr. Chambers told me who you were. You came to see Mr. Bradley didn’t you,” she said. Kendall said nothing. “It was about the robbery, the Marinski Ruby,” she continued. “My father was accused of stealing it you know. A few days after the robbery they found a pair of earrings in his room. They were part of the set. Suspicion immediately fell on him.” She slowly took out a handkerchief from her handbag, and brushed away a tear.
Kendall nodded slowly as he recalled the details. “Yes I remember,” he said gently. “You father sadly killed himself shortly after, I understand.”