A Case Of Murder (Kendall Book 6) (18 page)

Frank looked at his brother, and nodded. “Okay, we weren’t going anywhere just now but I still can’t understand why,” he replied. “What is it you want to know?”

“Much obliged,” said Kendall. “I promise not to take too much of your time.”

Dan started to laugh. “Believe me when we reach that point we’ll let you know.”

Right,” said Kendall trying to smile, and failing. “Let’s get this awkward one out of the way first, shall we?”

“Go on,” coaxed Frank.

Kendall nodded, and took a deep breath. “Where were you on the night of the murder?” he asked.

Frank shook his head and smiled. “So you do think we were involved.”

“Not at all,” Kendall replied. “I told you I don’t know anything yet. I’m just asking questions.”

Dan shook his head. “If we were involved we wouldn’t admit it would we? I mean we’re hardly going to say that we were there on the beach are we?”

“So is that what you are saying?” asked Kendall. “That you weren’t there that night. A simple yes or no will do.”

“No,” said Frank emphatically. “We weren’t there.”

“And of course you can prove that, can’t you?” said Kendall, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

Frank started to smile and looked at Dan. He reached across to a briefcase on the table. He opened it and took out a battered note book. “That’s our log book,” he explained as he slid it across to Kendall. “If you check the entry for the day the murder occurred, you will see that we were stranded in St. Malo, with engine troubles.”

“The same engine troubles we have now,” added Dan. “That’s why we are having a new engine fitted.”

“So how did you get back from St. Malo?” asked Kendall.

“You can see from the log book,” Frank started to explain, tapping the open book. “We were there for three days. We had to wait for some spare parts to come up from Nantes. The repairs were carried out and eventually we got underway.”

“Do you want to see the hotel receipts?” asked Dan sarcastically.

Kendall shook his head. “No that won’t be necessary.” He took a drink and drained his glass. “Care for another?” he asked, and without waiting for an answer indicated to Mooney for another round.

“So was there anything else you wanted?” Frank asked.

“Yes, one or two more questions if you don’t mind,” replied Kendall.

“Go ahead,” said Frank.

“The man who died,” Kendall continued. “Did you know him?”

Frank shook his head, and looked at Dan. “No, never seen him in my life.”

“Someone, I can’t remember who, had suggested that he was an illegal immigrant,” said Dan.

Kendall had heard the same from the local police. “Could you try to remember who it was?” he asked. “It might be important.”

Dan heaved a sigh and shook his head. “Sorry, but I can’t think who it was.”

“It was probably O’Rourke,” Frank suggested helpfully, or that English guy, Mallory.”

Dan shook his head. “It wasn’t them,” he said. “I remember now, it was Lynch, he mentioned it.”

Frank nodded. “That’s right. It was Lynch.”

Lynch,
thought Kendall.
Why on earth would Lynch think that, and more importantly when did he say it.

No matter how much he thought about it, Dan could not remember when Lynch had made the comment. “Sorry I just can’t remember, does it matter?”

Kendall sighed. “Guess not,” he replied. “Just a loose end I’d would have liked tied up, but not to worry.”

“Anything else?” asked Frank. “We need to check with the repair yard.”

“There is just one more thing,” Kendall continued. “I imagine you’ve heard about Mulligan?”

“Mulligan?” Dan repeated. “What about the old man? What’s he been up to?”

“He’s dead,” Kendall replied quite simply.

“Dead, what do you mean dead?” asked Frank.

Kendall took a drink, and heaved a sigh. He tried hard to think of another meaning for the word ‘dead’. He gave up.
What do you mean, what do I mean? Dead. I can’t say it any plainer than that can I? I mean what’s the problem? What part of dead don’t you understand? He’s dead, what more do you need?

“He was found a couple of days ago,” Kendall explained. “On the beach at the bottom of a cliff.”

“What happened?” asked Dan.

“The police say that he tripped and fell,” replied Kendall.

“But judging from how you said that Mr. Kendall, you don’t believe them do you,” suggested Frank.

“No I don’t,” agreed Kendall, taking a drink.

“Why not?” asked Dan. “The silly old fool was always drunk. He could easily have fallen.”

Kendall shrugged. “Mulligan liked a drink, that’s true” he continued. “But he could handle it.” He paused and took another drink. “He never tripped, he was pushed.”

Frank shook his head. “So what are you saying?” he asked.

Kendall took a deep breath. “I don’t think Mulligan’s death was an accident, that’s what I’m saying,” he replied. “I think Mulligan was murdered.”

Frank shook his head once again. “Why would anyone kill him? Makes no sense.”

“I believe somebody killed him because of something he knew about the first murder,” Kendall replied.

Frank started to laugh. “Come on, poor old Mulligan didn’t know anything. He just told stories that’s all, just to get a drink.”

“That’s right. You couldn’t believe a word he said,” added Dan. “Harmless alright, but a bit lacking upstairs, if you know what I mean.”

Kendall knew what he meant alright, but he was far from convinced. “You could be right,” he replied. “But I think he saw something that night. He might not have actually realised what it was, but it was that which killed him.”

Frank shook his head. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

“You must be wrong, Mr. Kendall” added Dan.

Kendall shook his head. He wasn’t wrong, he was convinced that he was right. He had a long way to go to prove it, but Mulligan was murdered, there was no doubt of that in his mind.

Silence fell, and then the music re-commenced. “So how are you enjoying Ireland?” asked Dan breaking the silence.

Kendall leant forward. “Sorry, I didn’t ….”

“I asked if you were enjoying Ireland,” Dan repeated.

“Oh,” replied Kendall. “Well we haven’t seen much yet, but its okay so far.”

“How about a trip out,” asked Frank. “When the old Sally is fixed.”

“Mr. Kendall doesn’t like the water, remember,” said Dan.

Mollie shook her head. “I would much prefer a day at the shops,” she said.

Kendall nodded. “Well I wouldn’t go that far, but if I was meant to go out to sea I’d have webbed feet.

Frank smiled. “You don’t know what you are missing.”

“That sea air, it’s good for you,” added Dan.

Kendall shook his head. “I’ll stick with dry land thank you.” He looked across at the band. “I could do without that noise as well.”

Dan looked at the band. “On that you have my complete agreement.” He took a drink.

Kendall sat back in his chair. It was getting very warm in the bar. He loosened his tie. “Is it always like this?” he asked.

“Normally it wouldn’t be so crowded, but there’s a music festival in the town,” Dan explained.

“We know. We saw some of the musicians in the street earlier,” said Mollie.

Dan nodded “It goes on all week, with all kinds of events. Competitions you know, to see who is the best fiddler, or the best guitarist.”

“People come from all over,” added Frank. “It’s good for the town I guess.”

“Must remember not to come back again at this time of year,” said Kendall. “Talking about music, I understand that you’re not that keen on the ceilidh.”

Dan looked puzzled.

Frank started to frown. “Who said that?” he asked

Kendall ignored the question. “Is it true?” he asked.

“Well it’s not the greatest thing in the world,” said Dan. “But it’s okay.”

“Better than that hip hop stuff you get these days,” added Frank.

Kendall had to admit that almost anything was better than hip hop.
Showing his age maybe, but he really couldn’t stand that monotonous drone.
“You’ll get no argument from me on that,” he said. “Simon and Garfunkel are more my kind of music.”

“I guess they’re okay,” replied Frank. “It’s the Rolling Stones for me.”

“I’m still curious though,” said Kendall.

“Go on, out with it,” coaxed Dan. “What’s your problem?”

“Well I was just wondering why you didn’t stay for the Ceilidh the other night at O’Rourke’s,” Kendall explained. “You seem to have left pretty early.”

“It’s no big mystery,” replied Frank. “It goes on far too late. We’re not as young as we used to be.”

“You can say that again,” added Dan. “We wanted to get back here, it’s as simple as that.”

Kendall had to admit that he knew the feeling, and merely nodded.

“Is there anything else we can help you with?” asked Dan.

Kendall shook his head. “No, nothing. You’ve been very helpful.”

* * *

“So clearly our two friends back there, couldn’t have been involved,” said Mollie, as they left the bar and made their way back to the car.

Kendall heaved a sigh. “It certainly looks that way,” he agreed.

“Though they could have hired another boat,” suggested Mollie.

“They could have,” agreed Kendall. “Although it’s hardly likely.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Mollie.

“To answer that, let’s leave the man on the beach for a moment,” replied Kendall. “Let’s just consider Mulligan’s death.”

“All right,” said Mollie. “Let’s do that.”

“Well it’s simple enough,” Kendall continued. “When I told them about Mulligan’s death, they were genuinely surprised weren’t they?” Mollie nodded her agreement. “Furthermore, they weren’t there, that night, at O’Rourke’s were they? The night that Mulligan was doing all the talking.”

Mollie nodded. “No they weren’t, so that rules them out,” she said.

“I certainly think it rules them out of murdering Mulligan,” Kendall continued. “So I doubt that they were involved with the killing of Nadir.”

“So that just leaves Derren Lynch, he’s the only other one we know with a boat.”

“That’s right,” agreed Kendall. “That just leaves Derren.” He paused for a moment and then smiled. “Assuming that I’m right that is.”

Mollie smiled, and nodded in agreement.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three

Derren Lynch

The Lynch Boatyard is located along the estuary of the Carrick River, not far from where it enters the Atlantic Ocean. The battered sign, at the entrance, proudly announces that the yard was established in 1998, and that the proprietor was Derren Lynch. A second sign gave details of sea trips offering sea fishing, or whale watching, that were available from March through till September. It also announced that the yard offered Repairs and Servicing, including Insurance work, all fully guaranteed.

The yard, surrounded by wire mesh fencing, was entered through a wide timber gate that had seen better days. Around the yard were scattered pieces of discarded machinery, and rusting parts of engines. Pieces of metal sheeting were piled in a heap in one corner. In another were dozens of empty paint tins, and oil cans. There were three small boats lined up supported by timber trestles. All three were undergoing repairs of one kind or another.

As Kendall entered the yard he was struck by an overwhelming smell of oil, and the sound of hammering. He looked over in the direction of where the hammering was coming from. There, on the deck of a small fishing boat, was Derren Lynch.

“Mr. Lynch,” Kendall called out. “Mr. Lynch.”

There was no response. Kendall called out once again, louder this time, banging the side of the boat.

Lynch suddenly looked up from the deck. “Be right with you,” he called back, and then disappeared. A few moments later he came down the ladder.

“It’s Mr. Kendall isn’t it?” he said. “What can I do for you?” he asked rubbing his hands with a cloth. “Are you planning a boat trip? A bit of fishing maybe, or ....”

Kendall smiled and shook his head. “Oh no, not me, I hate the water. I prefer to keep my feet on dry land. The only water I like is with my whiskey, and even then it will just be a small drop.”

Lynch smiled. “Well you don’t know what you’re missing,” he replied. “There’s nothing like a sea trip to get the blood flowing. The sea air, and the breeze. You just can’t beat it.”

Kendall was far from convinced. It sounded about as enjoyable as sky diving, or bungee jumping. He could think of dozens of far more enjoyable activities. “Sorry, it’s just not for me, I’m afraid. I prefer something a little less strenuous.”

“Well, then what can I do for you?” Lynch asked.

“As I said the other night, in O’Rourke’s, I’ve been asked to make enquiries about the murder,” Kendall started to explain. “You know the man on the beach.”

Lynch nodded. “So you said, but the police have already got Brian Charters for that one.”

Kendall nodded. “That’s right. He’s been arrested, and he’s been charged. True,” Kendall agreed. “But you see there are some people who have doubts as to whether or not he did it.”

“Doubts?” repeated Lynch. “Who has doubts? You mean the police?”

“Oh no, Mr. Lynch, not the police, unfortunately,” Kendall replied. “Mores the pity. That would have made my job a whole lot easier.”

“Then who?”

“His cousin for example,” said Kendall.

“You said that the other night in the bar” said Lynch shaking his head. “What would his cousin know about it?”

“Mr. Lynch, Charters’ cousin is a Chief Inspector at Scotland Yard, and he has doubts,” Kendall replied. “Either way there are a few questions that need to be clarified. In the circumstances I was wondering if you could help me?”

“Well I don’t see how, but go on,” Lynch replied reluctantly, as he looked around the boatyard, and shrugged.

Kendall could sense Lynch’s reluctance.
Sure he was a busy man that was obvious, but was there another reason?
Or was Kendall seeing something that really wasn’t there.

“Thank you,” Kendall replied, looking around. “I’ll try not to delay you too long. You seem pretty busy.”

“Busy, is an understatement,” replied Lynch. “I’m swamped out. I guess I shouldn’t complain though.” He paused for a moment and looked at his watch. “Anyway, what can I do for you?”

“Just a few questions about that night, the night of the murder,” Kendall explained.

“Go on,” said Lynch. “Let’s get it over and done with.”

“I understand that you actually saw Charters on the beach is that right?” asked Kendall.

Lynch nodded. “Yes I saw him, but he wasn’t actually on the beach, he was just walking towards the beach, with his dog, Katy.” he replied. “I’d just got back from a fishing trip, a couple of Americans. I was really tired, it had been a long day.”

“Where were you when you saw him?” asked Kendall.

“On my way to O’Rourke’s,” Lynch explained. “I thought I’d have a quick pint before heading home, and an early night.”

“What time was that?” Kendall asked.

“Time?” Lynch shook his head. “I can’t really be sure my watch had stopped. But let me tell you, I would guess about ten to seven, something like that.”

“Did he see you?” asked Kendall.

“Oh yes he saw me, he waved, and I waved back.”

“Did you see anyone else?”

Lynch shook his head. “No, not that I remember.”

Kendall smiled. “Did you see anything else that evening?”

“No I don’t think so,” Lynch replied shaking his head. “No wait a minute, I did see a small fishing boat go past the headland. Over there.” He pointed to a spot where the river entered the Ocean. “But I never gave it any thought. I mean boats go passed here all the time.”

Kendall looked over in the direction indicated. “It’s a great view from here. Quite a rugged coastline. Good for smugglers,” he said. “Not that I’m an expert on smuggling you understand.”

Lynch looked towards the sea. “Oh it’s pretty alright,” he said. “Back in the old days, there were smugglers all along this coast, and the wreckers.”

“Wreckers?” repeated Kendall. “What are they?”

Lynch smiled. “Some of the locals who would deliberately cause ships to hit the rocks, like those out there.” He pointed to a rocky outcrop. “The ship would run aground, and the wreckers would claim the salvage,” he continued. He turned back to face Kendall. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a trip around the islands. There’d be no charge, I’d be pleased take you.”

Kendall smiled, and shook his head. “Not for me, I get sea sick just thinking about it.”

Lynch heaved a sigh. “Well don’t say I didn’t offer.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” replied Kendall. “Getting back to that boat. What time did you see it?”

Lynch thought for a few moments. “I’m not sure, but I’m guessing that it was just a few minutes before I saw Charters I think, so a quarter to seven, something like that,” he replied. “I don’t really remember. As I said I never really gave it any thought.”

“Did you recognise the boat?” Kendall asked.

Lynch shook his head. “Never saw it before, and I thought I knew all of the local boats.”

“Did you tell the police?”

Lynch shook his head once again. “No, why should I? I told you I never gave it ....”

Local boatman sees boat he has not seen before, but shows no interest,
Kendall thought.
Not very likely, so why lie? Was there a boat which he did maybe there was no boat. Either way, why not tell the truth.
“I know,” said Kendall, heaving a sigh. “You never gave it a thought.”

“Correct,” said Lynch. “Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”

Kendall didn’t really know what he expected from such a meeting, but he had hoped for something, but all that he got was further confirmation that Charters was at the murder scene, at the right time. Not what he wanted, or needed.

“Was there anything else?” Lynch asked. “As you can see I do have a lot to do.”

Kendall looked around the yard. “I can see that,” he agreed. “There is one more thing though.”

Lynch gave a loud sigh. “Go on, I’m listening.”

Kendall took a deep breath. “It’s about Mulligan.”

“Mulligan,” repeated Lynch. “What about him?”

“I’m not convinced that his death was an accident,” said Kendall.

Lynch started to laugh. “You really are amazing Mr. Kendall, do you know that?”

“Many people have said that,” replied Kendall. “Who am I to argue.”

“The police have charged Charters with murder, but you’re not convinced that he is guilty,” said Lynch. “The police say that Mulligan’s death was an accident, but once again you’re not convinced.” He paused for a moment, shaking his head. “Why I should even listen is a mystery, but I guess you’re going to tell me why?”

Kendall nodded. “Yes, you’re right, no argument,” he replied. “I’m a regular doubting Thomas. One of my aggravating habits.” He smiled. “One of many according to my ma, I’m afraid. Once I get something in my mind I never let go until I’m satisfied. It doesn’t matter what others think you see. It’s what I think that counts. I’m just stubborn I guess.”

Lynch heaved a sigh. “Okay so you’ve got some bad habits, but exactly why don’t you believe it was an accident?”

Kendall rubbed the side of his face, and took a deep breath. “It’s quite simple, really,” he replied. “I think Mulligan knew something, or at least he thought that he knew something.”

“Something about what?” asked Lynch.

Kendall took a deep breath. “The body on the beach.”

“Go on, I’m listening.”

“That thing about the German sailor,” said Kendall. “What was that all about?”

Lynch shook his head, and smiled. “Oh, you shouldn’t take any notice of that. That was only old Mulligan story telling. O’Rourke warned you about that, remember.”

“I remember,” said Kendall. “But I don’t think it was just story-telling.”

“You really are a doubter, aren’t you,” said Lynch. “I guess if I said black was black, you’d have a problem.”

Kendall ignored the comment. “There really was a German sailor washed up on to the shore you know. His ship had been sunk by the British Navy, and he was the only survivor. Spent the rest of the war in a prison camp in Belfast.”

“That’s quite a story,” agreed Lynch. “But old Mulligan couldn’t have seen it, he would have been far too young.”

“Yes, I agree, he couldn’t have seen it, but he knew about it, and he saw, or thought he saw a connection with the sailor coming ashore, and the body down at the cove,” said Kendall. “Although he didn’t actually see that German sailor, I believe that he did see the body on the beach. I believe that he saw the murder, and that’s why he was killed.”

Lynch started a slow hand clap. “That’s a great story. One that old Mulligan would be rightly proud of,” he said. “But that’s all it is, a story. Mulligan died as the result of an accident. A tragic accident, but an accident none the less.”

Kendall shook his head. “Well I’m not so sure,” he replied. “I’m totally convinced that Mulligan’s death was murder, and I intend to prove it.”

“Well I wish you every success,” said Lynch, “Come back to me when you have the proof, but I’m willing to lay odds that you are wasting your time.”

Kendall shrugged. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, and I don’t expect it will be the last, but it’s my time so I’ll give it a shot.”

“Right, well if that’s it, I’ll get back to work,” said Lynch, as he turned to walk back to the boat he had been working on.

“Just one thing,” Kendall said.

Lynch stopped and turned back. “What is it?”

“Mulligan left O’Rourke’s at about ten o’clock that night,” said Kendall. “What time did you leave?”

“Am I one of your suspects?” said Lynch, trying not to laugh.

“Oh no, nothing like that,” said Kendall. “Just some loose ends that’s all.”

Lynch smiled, and nodded his head. “Seems very devious to me Mr. Kendall.”

“Devious?” repeated Kendall. “In what way?”

Lynch smield. “You know very well what time I left. You were there, you saw me leave. It was just a few minutes after Mulligan, and Quinn, remember?”

Kendall nodded. Yes he remembered.

“And I went straight home,” Lynch added.

“Okay, I get your point,” Kendall replied holding his hands up, and nodding. “One last thing though, and then I’m done.”

“Get on with it, Kendall,” replied Lynch getting impatient.

“It’s about the boat you saw.”

“I told you I’d never seen it before,” replied Lynch.

“Yes, I remember,” replied Kendall. “But do you think you could describe it?”

“Oh, I see,” replied Lynch. “Well it’s a while ago, and really I didn’t take too much notice I’m afraid. Was it important?”

“Which direction was it going?” asked Kendall.

Lynch thought for a while. “South, towards Kinsale.”

“Did you see anyone on the boat?” Kendall asked

Lynch shook his head. “I told you I barely glanced at it.”

Kendall nodded. “Not to worry, probably not that important anyway.”

“So have we finished?” asked Lynch. “I’m anxious to get on.”

“Yes we’re done,” replied Kendall. Then he held up his hand. “One last thing. You didn’t by any chance telephone the police that night, did you?”