by John Holt
* * *
Kendall wasn’t one for eating out a great deal. Fancy restaurants were not usually his scene, so to speak. Not his kind of thing. He preferred his food to be plain, simple, wholesome, and, of course, tasty. It was most important that the food had to taste good. If you didn’t actually enjoy the food you were eating, it hardly mattered whether it was good for you or not. What was the point?
That was his philosophy, anyway. He would go to a Burger King maybe or perhaps even a Macdonald’s, but that was about it. That was more his kind of venue. Lately, however, by way of a change, he did like Shooters Waterfront Café, and would go there for lunch occasionally. It had been Mollie’s idea, naturally. She had got him on to this health regime. It was her idea that he had started jogging. It was her idea that he took regular exercise. It was her idea that he took vitamins and royal jelly capsules every day.
Now she had turned her attention to his eating habits. “Healthy eating is the key,” she had explained. “You are what you eat, don’t forget.” That made no sense to Kendall. He looked nothing like a Big Mac, did he?
“I’m not saying that you should never have a double cheeseburger, with lashings of onions, and French Fries ever again,” she had said. “I’m not saying there should be no more fry ups, no more sausages, no more crispy bacon.” She shook her head, and smiled. “No more pizzas.” She paused for a moment, letting the words sink in. “What I am saying, though, is that just occasionally, once in a while, something a little more healthy might be a good idea.”
And so it was that he had discovered a whole new world, a world of grilled chicken, and tuna, and healthy salads, a strange world where, odd though it seemed, it was entirely possible to have a meal without French fries. And so it was that once or twice a month Kendall could be seen at Shooters Waterfront Café.
* * *
Shooters Waterfront Café is located on North Miami Beach, on NE 163rd Street. It is situated right on the waterfront, hence the name. It is light, bright, and modern. It was known far and wide for good simple meals, and for its excellent friendly service. On this day, the restaurant was busy as usual, although there were one or two tables still available.
It was just after one fifteen and Kendall had just finished placing his order. Today it was to be a Caesar Salad, and grilled chicken. He was sitting at his regular table out on the terrace, overlooking the ocean. He looked out at the beach, and smiled. The sun was shining in a clear blue sky, and there was the gentlest of breezes coming from the south. Perfect, he thought. It was hot, but not too hot, and not too windy, just how he liked it. The forecast was promising rain later that evening, but for the moment it was glorious sunshine.
This was certainly the life, he murmured. He suddenly found himself thinking back to his days in New York. He closed his eyes, and shivered. He then shook his head, and opened his eyes once more, relieved to see that the beach was still there. He started to laugh. “They don’t have that in Brooklyn,” he murmured. He had to admit that this had been one of Mollie’s better ideas, and certainly, he did feel the better for the exercise, and the change in diet. He had lost a few pounds, and generally he did feel a lot healthier, not that he would actually admit anything to her.
He slowly looked around at the other diners. He smiled as he recognized some of the regular faces, and casually waved. Out of the corner of his eye he could just see someone over to the far side, talking to one of the waiters. Looking for a table, no doubt, Kendall supposed. He turned his head slightly for a better view. Dark blue suit, good quality, well cut. Almost certainly a businessman of some kind, Kendall thought. Probably into insurance, or banking, maybe, a stock broker, perhaps.
Kendall looked at him for a few moments longer. A banker, he decided. “Definitely a banker, he looks the type.” He shook his head, and looked away. He checked his watch. Twenty-two minutes past one. Lunch wouldn’t be too long, he guessed, not that he was in any kind of hurry, or anything like that. He estimated that he would have not much more than ten minutes, or thereabouts, to wait. Just about enough time to quickly glance through his newspaper, he reasoned.
He opened it out, spread it across the table, and quickly glanced at the front-page headline. As usual, the story was about the spread of the so-called Rican flu. For the past few days there had been nothing else. Overnight there had been another fourteen deaths in the United States from the virus. Two of them were in Georgia. “A young woman, and her fourteen year old daughter,” he read. “Both recently back from a holiday in Mexico.” He shook his head. “Georgia,” he murmured. It was getting a little too close to home. He wondered if the authorities had come up with a vaccine yet. He shook his head once again and hurriedly turned the page. The inside news wasn’t much better. More job losses, more price increases, and the crime figures were up once more. Where was all the good news, he wondered?
“Mr. Kendall,” came a voice from close by. “Mr. Tom Kendall?”
Kendall lowered the newspaper, and slowly looked around. As he did so he saw someone approaching from his left hand-side. He was surprised to see that it was the banker.
“Mr. Kendall?” the voice repeated. “I’m from the Governor’s office. Carter is my name. James Carter.” He placed a business card on the table in front of Kendall.
Kendall looked puzzled. He picked up the card, and looked at it casually. “How did you know where to find me?” he asked.
Carter smiled, and nodded his head. “That was easy,” he replied. “There’s no big mystery. I merely telephoned your office, and spoke to your secretary. She told me that you were here, and the waiter over there, he pointed you out to me. And here I am.”
Kendall nodded. “And here you are,” he murmured. Clever trick though, he thought. Mollie had been out of town for the past two days. He decided to let it go, and say nothing. “All right, Mr. Carter,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
Carter shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sorry to bother you like this, at your lunch,” he said. “It really is unforgivable of me. I mean people should be allowed to have their lunch without being disturbed, shouldn’t they?”
Kendall looked at him, and silently agreed with him. Somehow, though, he didn’t think that Carter sounded particularly sorry. Kendall wondered why, if it was so unforgivable, he hadn’t actually offered to call at another time. “Oh that’s all right. I’ll live through it, I guess,” he replied, as he placed the card into his pocket. “Worse things happen at sea.”
Carter looked down at the table. “Do you mind if I sit down?” he asked. “I won’t be too long I promise.” He smiled. “I’ll try not to spoil your lunch.”
Kendall looked at the man for a moment or two. Somehow he wasn’t reassured by the last comment. Somehow he felt that lunch had already been spoilt. “Oh certainly, please,” he replied, as he pointed to a chair. “Please do sit down.” The man sat down in the chair opposite. “Now what can I do for you, Mr. Carter?” Kendall asked once again. “You say that you are from the governor’s office.” The man nodded. “The governor,” Kendall continued. “You do mean the State governor?”
The man smiled and nodded once more. “That’s right,” he replied. “The State governor.”
Kendall nodded, and started to rub his chin. “So what is it?” he asked. “It’s nothing to do with the Internal Revenue Service, is it?” he said smiling weakly. “I’m absolutely sure that my tax payments are all up to date.”
The man shook his head, and started to laugh. “Oh, no, Mr. Kendall, I can assure you that it’s nothing like that.”
Kendall started to relax, and smiled. “He has a case for me,” he said. “Some important investigation he wants carried out.”
Once again Carter shook his head. “No, I’m afraid it’s nothing like that either.”
Kendall smiled once again. “I expect he could just call on the FBI, or CIA, anyway,” Kendall replied. “He wouldn’t need me, would he?” He paused for a few moments waiting for a reaction. There was none. “Can I ge
t you a coffee, or something?” he asked, hoping against hope that he would say no.
The man shook his head. “Oh, no, thank you,” he replied. “I really won’t be that long, but the offer is very much appreciated.”
Kendall heaved a sigh of relief. “So what is it that you want?” he asked. He paused for a moment. “Incidentally, I ought to warn you that I never actually voted for him,” he continued. “The governor, I mean. I was for the other guy.”
Carter smiled. He took a deep breath. “We’ve been looking at your career, Mr. Kendall,” he said slowly. “It makes for very impressive reading.” He paused for a moment and looked at Kendall.
Kendall smiled. I’m being put forward for an award of some kind. Recognition of services rendered, or something like that. “I’m gratified to hear it,” he said. “Is that why you are here?”
Carter shook his head. “That affair concerning the murder of Governor Reynolds,” he said. “Quite a feather in your cap I would say. Certainly it was a clever piece of deduction on your part.” He paused for a few moments. “I couldn’t understand that Senator Mackenzie, though. No backbone, I’m afraid. And to think he could easily have been our president.”
Kendall looked at him, and shook his head. “Oh no, he was just a little weak. Easily led, that’s all,” he replied. “He had been ever since he was a child.”
Carter shrugged his shoulders. “Oh yes, Mr. Kendall we are very interested in your career,” he said. “Especially your current case.” He paused and looked at Kendall.
Kendall looked down at the table. He suddenly felt worried. It wasn’t what was being said, it was more the look in Carter’s eyes. Kendall suddenly realized that his hands were shaking, and he was sweating. He loosened his tie, and looked up. “It’s hot in here, isn’t it?” he said. “Do you find it hot?”
Carter looked at him. “It could get a lot hotter,” he said quite simply.
Once more, there was that look in the eyes. Kendall suddenly felt threatened in some way. He shook his head. “Funny, I thought the forecast was promising rain.” Carter said nothing. Kendall took a deep breath. His hands had stopped shaking. “Mr. Carter,” he said slowly. “You haven’t come here to talk about my prowess as a detective, have you, or to discuss my illustrious career?” He paused for a moment. Carter said nothing. “And I’m sure that you haven’t come here to discuss the weather.” Still Carter said nothing. “So what is it? What do you want, exactly? Why are you here?”
The man shook his head and took a deep breath. He looked all around, and then returned his attention to Kendall. He smiled and then shrugged. “Well it’s just that we have received a few complaints lately, I’m afraid,” he replied. “I’ve been asked to sort things out, that’s all. It’s not a major problem.” He paused and took another deep breath. “No more than a minor irritation really, and I’m sure that between us we can sort it out in no time at all.”
Kendall looked at his visitor, puzzled. “Complaints,” he repeated. “You said complaints. What kind of complaints?”
The man shook his head again, and sighed. “Complaint is probably too strong a word really.” He paused and took a deep breath. “In fact it’s the wrong word entirely.”
Kendall was beginning to get nervous once more. “So what should the word be?” he asked.
Carter ignored the question. “Mr. Kendall, I understand that you have been making inquiries lately into the death of one Richard Dawson,” he replied. “Is that correct?”
Kendall nodded. “It is,” he replied. “His mother and brother asked me to investigate his death. And that’s exactly what I have been doing.”
“I see,” said Carter. He started to tap his fingers on the table. He looked at Kendall, and shook his head once again. “That’s fine,” he continued. “As far as it goes, that is.”
A frown suddenly appeared on Kendall’s forehead. His hands started to shake once more. “As far as it goes,” he repeated. “What exactly does that mean, Mr. Carter?”
Carter stopped tapping the table, and looked up. “Mr. Kendall, firstly, let me just say that I’m only doing my job. I don’t have any opinions either way, you understand.” He shook his head. “I don’t have that luxury, I’m afraid. I’m only the messenger boy. I just do as I’m told, that’s all.” He paused for a moment. “You could say that I’m a bit like FedEx. I don’t make the parcels, I just make the deliveries.”
If that was supposed to make Kendall feel any better, it failed miserably. “Opinions about what?” he asked, becoming slightly impatient.
Carter sighed deeply. “All right, Mr. Kendall,” he said. “Let’s get right down to it, shall we?” He paused. “Cut to the chase, as they say.” He sighed once more. “You have been asking a lot of questions at Trenton Pharmaceuticals, I believe.”
Kendall nodded. “That’s right,” he replied. “What about it?”
“Mr. Kendall, you may not know it, but Trenton Pharmaceuticals is an extremely important company to the State of Florida. Indeed, it is an extremely important company to the whole of the United States.” He paused and smiled. “The company employs over five thousand people worldwide, most of them right here in Florida. Its annual turnover is in the billions of dollars, which results in vast tax revenues to the state.” He paused once again. Kendall said nothing. Carter took a deep breath. “Kendall, I’m sure that you can appreciate just how important the company is to the economy.” Kendall still said nothing. He knew nothing about such things. Carter shrugged his shoulders, and took another deep breath. “We don’t want them upset un-necessarily, do we?” He paused once again. “I’m sure that you can understand that.”
Kendall shook his head. “No, I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he said. “I don’t understand what you are trying to say at all, Mr. Carter. Perhaps you can explain a little more.”
Carter sighed wearily. “Putting it simply Mr. Kendall, nothing, but nothing, should be allowed to distract Trenton from their business operations.”
Kendall shook his head in disbelief. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I still don’t understand the problem.”
Carter stared at Kendall for a moment or two. “It’s like this, Mr. Kendall,” he started to explain. “In the past few days I myself have actually made a lot of enquiries regarding Mr. Dawson’s untimely death. As far as I can tell, from the available evidence that is, it would seem that his death was just an accident. Even this thing about Louis, the gardener, he never actually saw anything did he? He just said that for some attention. Besides he’s a little… Well, you know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean,” said Kendall. “A little lacking in the brain department I think you mean? Mentally challenged, I think is the PC term.”
Carter started to chuckle. “That’s right,” he said. “Harmless enough I expect, but not to be relied upon. It was a tragic accident, but an accident, nonetheless, and nothing more.” He took another deep breath. “That was the conclusion by the police, and by the Coroner’s office.” He smiled and shook his head. “A lot of time has been spent on the investigation already. A lot of taxpayer’s money has been spent, and a lot of manpower. What with the investigation and the police, the autopsy and the coroner, it all adds up. So, really, there is no need for any further questioning is there? No need to waste any more time.”
Kendall gave a loud sigh, and slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t actually see it that way at all,” he replied. “You see, there are a number of aspects about the case that could suggest that it wasn’t an accident after all. In fact I am almost convinced that it was actually murder.”
“You’re wrong, Kendall,” said Carter. “It was an accident, plain and simple, end of story.” He looked at Kendall for a few moments. “You are so wrong believe me, the sooner you realize that, the better for all concerned.”
Was that a threat, Kendall wondered? He said nothing.
“Mr. Clark thinks that you are overdoing it. A little bit too enthusiastic, a bit too eager,” Cart
er continued. “He feels a little harassed?” Carter paused. “That’s what he says, not me, you understand, nor, indeed, the governor.”
“I see,” Kendall replied. “So Mr. Clark thinks I’m harassing him, does he?”
“His words, Kendall,” Carter explained. “We, the governor and I, just feel that he is a little stressed, what with one thing and another.” He paused. “I mean this epidemic, Mr. Dawson’s accident in their car park, your questioning.” He shook his head. A little stressed,” he repeated. “It’s understandable really, don’t you think?
Kendall shook his head. “Feeling the heat a little, perhaps,” he said. “Too much pressure, maybe, a bit too close to home.”
Carter started to smile, and nodded his head. “That’s not exactly how I would put it,” he said. “But it’s close enough.” He looked at Kendall. “The governor would be most appreciative if you would just ease up a little. You know what I mean?” He was no longer smiling.
Kendall shook his head. No, he didn’t know what he meant. “And if I don’t, what was it you said, ease up a little, what happens then?”
Carter shook his head, and started to smile once again. “You know I was actually warned that you might respond in exactly that way,” he said.
Now it was Kendall’s turn to smile. He shrugged his shoulders. “You’re not disappointed, then are you?” he replied.
Carter said nothing.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Kendall continued. “So what does happen?”