Kendall - Private Detective - Box Set

by John Holt

  “Do you mean Richard Dawson’s accident?” he asked. Kendall nodded. Clark shook his head and smiled. “I’m sorry, Kendall, you really shouldn’t take too much notice of Joe. You know, some time ago Joe found out that by dialing 911 that would bring the police, or the fire brigade, or the ambulance service.” He started to laugh. “So Joe started to call them. Sometimes it would be once a day, and sometimes twice. It made him feel important, somehow, you know.” He paused, looked up and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s been that way ever since his accident all of those years ago.” He looked at Kendall.

  “Accident,” repeated Kendall. “What happened?”

  “Joe fell down a flight of stairs. He was eighteen years old at the time. He suffered a blow to the head, causing brain damage.” He looked down at his hands and sighed deeply. “Joe has always wanted attention, to feel wanted, you know.”

  Kendall wasn’t sure that he did know, and said nothing.

  “Anyway Joe would dial the number, the police would arrive, we would apologize profusely, and then make a large donation to their benefit fund. The police would go away. A few days later he would ring them again.” Clark grinned. “Eventually we had to tell him that the number had been changed, but it was a secret, and nobody knew what the new number was. And he believed me. The calls stopped.”

  “I would have let him go long ago, but I hadn’t the heart,” Clark continued. “You know, he has been with the company for over forty-seven years. He started here when he was fourteen, helping William, the old gardener. Then, when William retired, Joe became the head gardener.” He took a deep breath. “He really knew his stuff, his flowers you know.” He paused and slowly nodded his head. “His children, he used to call them. Poor old Joe, we’ll miss him around here that’s for sure.”

  “I guess so,” said Kendall. “Anyway the point is he was absolutely adamant that he had seen something. He said that he saw a man, Dawson, come out of the building and walk to his car. He heard the car engine start, but the car never moved.” Kendall shook his head, and took a deep breath. “Then he saw two men carrying a third man. They went across the car park, and laid the man down by that low wall. He never moved, that’s what Joe said.”

  Clark shook his head. “All right, so Joe said that he saw two men place a body on to the ground. What about it?”

  “Mr. Clark I am now absolutely convinced that there was no accident. I am absolutely certain that Richard Dawson was murdered.” He paused for a moment. “The two men were John Vickers, and Clive Norris,” he continued. “They were carrying Richard Dawson.”

  Clark shook his head. “And you come to that conclusion purely on the ramblings of poor old Joe?”

  “Not entirely Mr. Clark,” Kendall replied. “There are one or two other points.”

  Clark smiled and shook his head. “Well I have to admit that it’s quite a story,” he said. “However, as I said you shouldn’t take any notice of Joe. It’s just his imagination I’m afraid.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Besides it’s not possible anyway. He couldn’t have seen anything. You see Joe wasn’t here on the day of the accident. He was away that day.” He paused for a moment. “I’m sure that it was that day. If I remember correctly, he was un-well and I had sent him home.”

  Now it was Kendall’s turn to smile. He shook his head, and flipped the pages of his notepad. “I remember our conversation quite well, Mr. Clark,” he said. “We were discussing who it was who had told you about the accident, just a moment while I find it.” He turned a few more pages. “Ah, here it is,” he announced. “What you actually said, Mr. Clark was…it was probably my secretary, Barbara, I think, or it could have been Joe.”

  Clark frowned and looked puzzled. “No, I don’t think so I’m sure I never said anything like that. Obviously, you must have misunderstood me Mr. Kendall.” He sighed and turned his head. “Joe was certainly sent home that day, there’s no doubt of that. I did it myself, told him to go. He was anything but well, you know.”

  “What was it?” Kendall asked. “I mean what was wrong with Joe? It wasn’t this old virus thing, what do you call it?”

  “You mean Rican flu?” suggested Clark, and shook his head. “No it wasn’t anything like that.”

  Kendall smiled. “If it had been, the Rican flu, I mean, then I suppose that you could have given him a couple of tablets, or an injection, or whatever it is you do, and he would have been as right as rain in no time.”

  Clark looked surprised, and shook his head. He started to smile. “If only it were that easy, Mr. Kendall, if only. We would have stopped this virus long ago.”

  “I guess so,” replied Kendall. “So what was the problem? With Joe, I mean.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t anything serious. He was just a bit run down, that’s all,” Clark replied. “Coughing and complaining of a headache, that sort of thing.” He paused and shook his head. “Overworking probably, you know how it is.”

  Kendall knew precisely how it was. It had been that way when he was with the NYPD, too much to do, and too little time to do it in. “So if it wasn’t Joe, who was it that told you about the accident?” he asked.

  “It was actually Barbara who told me about the accident, I think,” Clark replied. Then he shook his head and looked down. Then he nodded his head. “Yes, that’s right. It was Barbara.”

  Kendall sighed and looked puzzled. “Well, that’s that cleared up,” he said. “It’s strange though, Joe was so sure that he had seen the accident on that day.”

  Clark smiled and shook his head. “Poor old Joe,” he said. “I’m afraid you couldn’t believe anything Joe would say. He was a little … odd, shall we say? Harmless, but not quite the ticket, if you know what I mean, two sandwiches short of a picnic, you know.” Kendall smiled but said nothing. “He was always trying to sound important, you know,” Clark continued. “He never really had much of a life, not after his accident. But he did enjoy working here. He was a good worker, and he loved his gardens.” Clark shook his head, and shrugged. “He knew his stuff all right. As for me, I don’t know one plant from another.”

  Kendall nodded. “I’m exactly the same,” he said. “All I know is they are either red flowers, or blue flowers. What they are actually called, well, I’ve no idea.”

  Clark nodded. “Joe knew. He knew all of their names. Not just their common names, he also knew their Latin names as well.” He paused and sighed. “He knew where, and when to plant them, and how to look after them. He knew everything about them. Completely self taught.” He shook his head. “And yet, if you asked him to add two and two together he wouldn’t be able to do it, quite fascinating, really.” He paused once more and shook his head. He put his hand up to his face and brushed his cheek. “I can hardly believe that he’s gone. Why, it was only yesterday that I saw him out there.” He pointed towards the window. “A big smile on his face, as always. Pruning his roses. He loved his roses, you know.”

  Kendall shrugged. “And now he has gone,” he said. “A wretched hit and run driver.”

  Clark nodded. “As you say, now he has gone.” He sighed. He brushed his cheek once again. “Yes, sir, we will certainly miss him around the place. It won’t be the same without him.” He suddenly hit the desk hard with his fist. “You know, if I had my way I’d lock them up for life if I found out who it was. Some young tear away I suppose. No discipline, that’s the trouble. Not like when we were young, Mr. Kendall.” Kendall said nothing. “Today the young simply think the world owes them a living, and they can do exactly as they please.”

  Kendall nodded and looked at Clark. “Absolutely,” he said quite slowly. “I wholeheartedly agree. I blame the parents myself.”

  Clark looked at him for a moment or two. He nodded his head. “Oh, yes, it’s the parents right enough,” he said. “But it’s more than that, much more. It’s society. Standards have all but gone, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Kendall shrugged his shoulders. Oh yes, society. It’s always the fault of society, never the individual. He nod
ded his head. “Incidentally, Mr. Clark, I wanted to speak to Mr. Vickers, and Mr. Norris, once more, but they don’t seem to be available.”

  Clark nodded. “That’s right, Kendall,” he replied. “I had to send them away on business for a few days.”

  “Is that right?” said Kendall. “Can you tell me where they have gone?”

  Clark shook his head and smiled. “Sorry, Kendall I can’t tell you that,” he replied. “It’s a secret. If my competitors found out it could be costly for us, very costly, indeed. I’m sure that you understand.”

  Kendall understood alright, although he suspected that Clark would not be entirely happy with what he was thinking. How convenient, co-incidence or what? “Naturally,” he replied. “That’s perfectly understandable. Perhaps you would be good enough to contact me when they return?”

  “Of course, Kendall,” Clark replied. “No trouble.” He suddenly stood up. “Now I really have to get on, I’m afraid.” He smiled. “Duty calls.” He walked to the door and opened it. “Sorry.”

  Kendall instinctively knew that it was time to go. He stood up and walked to the door. “Well, thanks, anyway,” he said and walked out.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Poor Joe

  “Tehran Times”, Tehran, Friday – “Iranian officials have reported two newly confirmed cases of Rican flu, both of whom had recently returned from the hajj pilgrimage to Mecca. The head of the Iranian Health Ministry’s Centre for Disease Control, Mohammad-Mehdi, told the official Fars news agency that a fifty-seven year old woman and a twenty-four year old man who had recently returned from the Umrah hajj pilgrimage were tested positive for the Rican flu virus on Thursday. Mehdi added that both cases have been hospitalized, and are reported to be in a comfortable condition.”

  “Al Baath”, Damascus, Friday – “Syria’s Health Ministry confirmed the third case of Rican flu in the country, but said that the first two patients have now completely recovered from the disease, and have been discharged from hospital. The latest victim of the virus is a male Syrian national who had lived in Kuwait until quite recently, the Syrian Health Minister Rida Adnan Syed announced in a statement last night. The patient entered Syria on Tuesday of this week and later developed breathing problems, and a cough, together with a rash to the upper part of the body, the statement added. The health minister gave assurances that the patient has been receiving the proper treatment for his illness. His condition was said to be stable.”

  “The St Petersburg Times”, St Petersburg, Friday – “A Kaluga man who has recently returned from a holiday trip in the Dominican Republic, has been hospitalized. He has been confirmed as Russia’s second case of the Rican Flu virus, health authorities said today. The man, aged twenty-five, and his wife flew into Moscow from the Dominican Republic and sought medical attention after feeling ill, the Federal Consumer Protection Service said in a statement late last night. “His wife has been placed under medical observation, but no signs of the virus have been confirmed,” the agency’s chief, Alexei Grigorsky stated today. “The man’s condition is satisfactory.”

  * * *

  “Oh excuse me,” Kendall said, as he poked his head around the door. “It’s Barbara, isn’t it?” he asked. “Or is it Jean?”

  The young lady sitting at the desk looked up, smiled and shook her head. “Jean’s at lunch, I’m afraid. I’m Barbara.” She smiled. “Did you want Jean?” she asked. She looked across at the wall clock. Then she looked back at Kendall. “She shouldn’t be long, I think.”

  Kendall smiled, and walked over to her desk. “Oh no,” he replied. “I didn’t need Jean specifically.” He paused for a moment. “I’m sure that you will be just as good.”

  Barbara looked at Kendall, and smiled. “I’m overwhelmed,” she replied.

  Kendall suddenly realized what he had said. “I’m sorry. I never meant it, not like that.” He paused and shook his head. “I wonder if you might be able to help me.”

  She smiled once again, and nodded her head. “I’ll try,” she said. “What can I do for you exactly?

  “I’m Tom Kendall,” he said. “I’m a private detective”

  “I know who you are, Mr. Kendall,” she said.

  “I’ve just been talking to Mr. Clark,” Kendall continued. “We were talking about Joe Louis, the gardener. And I need to check on a few things. You question everything you know,” he explained. “Not just once, but over and over.” He paused and looked around. “Do you mind?” he said, pointing to a chair.

  She looked at him and shook her head. Kendall smiled and sat down. “I’m a bit like an airline pilot,” he went on. “I check everything, and then I double check.” He smiled again, and winked his eye. “Then and only then, when I am entirely satisfied, can the plane take off.”

  She looked at him for a few moments, and shrugged her shoulders. If she had been impressed she hid it very well. Kendall sighed. “Now, about Joe,” he continued.

  She heaved a sigh. “Poor Joe,” she said. “He was such a nice, sweet man.”

  “Well liked, was he?” Kendall asked.

  She started to smile. “Oh yes. Everyone loved Joe.” She shrugged. “Of course he was a little simple, you know, but he was so nice.” She looked towards the edge of her desk. There was a large china vase. It was empty. “He would always bring in a fresh bunch of roses for that vase, every day.” She looked back towards Kendall. “We will miss him very much.”

  Kendall took a deep breath, and nodded slowly. “Your boss said that Joe hadn’t been feeling very well lately.”

  Barbara looked puzzled. “Unwell,” she said. “I can’t say that I noticed. He always seemed very fit to me. I mean considering his age, and his, well you know, his problem.” She paused. “I put it down to being outdoors all the time, in the fresh air. Not stuck in a stuffy office, like me.” She smiled, and then shook her head. “Not that it’s that stuffy, you know.”

  Kendall smiled back and nodded. “Mr. Clark said that on the day of Mr. Dawson’s accident Joe had gone home unwell.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked. Kendall nodded. “Well, I’m very surprised, I’m sure that I saw him that day.”

  “Are you absolutely certain?” Kendall asked.

  She looked up at him, and frowned. “Well, I thought I did,” she replied. “But if Mr. Clark said that he wasn’t here then I must be mistaken.”

  Kendall slowly nodded his head. “I guess so,” he murmured. “Thanks, anyway.” He stood up, turned and started to leave. Suddenly he stopped and turned around. “Barbara,” he said as he slowly walked back to her desk.

  She looked up from her computer screen. “Yes,” she said. “Was there something else?”

  “Yes, there was,” Kendall replied. “You were here that day, the day of Mr. Dawson’s tragic accident.”

  She paused for a moment and then nodded her head. “Oh yes,” she said. “I was here.”

  “Mr. Clark said that it was you who told him about the unfortunate accident.” She said nothing but looked puzzled. “About Mr. Dawson, the young man who died.”

  “Yes, I know what you mean. It was just terrible.” she said, shaking her head. “But it wasn’t me. I never told Mr. Clark.”

  Kendall looked up. “Do you know who it was?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t. I actually thought that it was Joe. I’m sure that someone said that he was up to his tricks again, telling his stories. But it couldn’t have been could it, if he wasn’t here?”

  “What did they mean?” Kendall asked. “Up to his tricks, telling stories.”

  “Oh, Joe was always imagining things, you know, making things up,” she explained. “It made him sound important.”

  Kendall nodded and glanced back at Clark’s office. “So I’ve heard.”

  “He never meant any harm,” Barbara continued. “He just never gave it any thought.” She took up a handkerchief and wiped her eyes.

  Kendall shrugged. “So, it wasn’t Joe,
then,” he said.

  She shook her head. “It couldn’t have been him, could it?” she replied. “Was it important?”

  Kendall shook his head. “Just one of those things that need to be checked just before take off,” he replied. She looked at him, and frowned. He shook his head. “You know, airline pilot, remember.” He spread his hands out, and held them high into the air, as though he were flying.

  She continued to look puzzled.

  Kendall sighed and shook his head once again. “No matter,” he said. “Forget it.” He then thanked her for her time, and left.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Lunch Is Spoilt

  “Yemen News Agency”, Tuesday – “The Yemeni Ministry of Health has confirmed the first case of Rican Flu in The Yemen. The patient is reported as being a Yemeni student who has recently returned from the United States of America. In response to this discovery, a state of emergency was declared nationwide and in all hospitals. A state of emergency was also declared in Yemen’s airports, seaports and border outlets.

  The Minister of Health, Abdul Karim Ryisa, said that the case was discovered after the student complained of breathing difficulties. Tests were carried out, and the Rican Flu infection was confirmed the following day. Ryisa added that the afflicted student has been isolated from other family members and is being treated for that disease. The patient’s condition has been described as stable. He called on all citizens to exercise utmost caution and not to panic. Ryisa stated that his ministry has taken the required measures to test all people entering or leaving the country and these measures are applied in all Yemen’s land, sea and air outlets. The student’s friends, who were all part of an exchange program between The Yemen and the United States of America, were tested to make sure that they were not affected also. All test results were later shown to be negative.”

  “The Himalayan Times”, Kathmandu, Tuesday – “With the advent of Dashain, the greatest festival of Nepali people, the possibility of spreading the Influenza virus, commonly known as Rican flu, has increased as a result of greater mobility of the Nepali population. With the festival a mere two weeks away, and the inflow of migrant workers increasing, the Ministry of Health warned of the high possibility of the spread of the virus. “With such large groups of people crossing borders in such a small span of time, it is quite impossible to take measures to effectively contain the virus,” said Dr. Mahatra Mahri Khoresi, Deputy Coordinator of Avian Influenza Control Project under the Ministry of Health.