A Case Of Murder (Kendall Book 6) (4 page)

Chapter Four

A Case Of Murder

“That’s right, smuggling,” replied Whittaker. “There’s a lot of illegal drugs coming into Ireland. Once there, it’s a simple matter to get them over to Britain.”

“Is he working with anyone, or is he completely alone?” asked Mollie.

“No, he’s not alone,” replied Whittaker. “There’s somebody else working with him.”

Kendall nodded. He looked at Whittaker for a few moments. “Do you have a name?” he asked.

“Oh,” replied Whittaker suddenly realising. He shook his head. “No sorry, I don’t have a name.”

Kendall sighed.
A name could have been useful.
“Pity, but never mind, it probably doesn’t matter anyway. Carry on with your story.”

Whittaker was about to continue when the waitress arrived with their drinks. She placed the glasses down on the table, turned and walked back to the bar.

Whittaker passed the drinks over, and took a drink. “Anyway, it seems that he’s got himself into a bit of bother,” he continued. “A very serious bit of bother.”

“Bother?” repeated Kendall.

Whittaker heaved a sigh. “Yes you know,” he replied. “Trouble.”

Kendall nodded. “Oh trouble, I get you,” he said. “So what sort of bother are we talking about?”

Whittaker took another drink. “Well it’s a case of murder I’m afraid.”

“Murder,” repeated Mollie. Whittaker said nothing, but simply nodded agreement.

Another murder,
thought Kendall.
Just what I need.
“Just stop right there, for a moment, and re-wind will you,” he said. “Then let’s have it from the top, slowly.”

Whittaker nodded and took a drink. “Well about three months ago he was out walking his dog, you know,” he started to explain. “Along the beach, at a place called Carrick Cove. It’s about seven in the evening. The sun’s going down, and it’s beginning to get dark, but it’s still bright enough. Anyway the dog goes wandering off for a while. There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact it’s quite normal.” Whittaker paused for a moment and took another drink. “She’s a good dog, she don’t go far. She knows what side her bread is buttered on. If you get my drift.”

If pressed Kendall would have to admit that he didn’t get Whittaker’s drift, and furthermore what this had to do with buttering some bread was a total mystery to him.

“So what about the dog, Inspector?” said Kendall. “She’s gone wandering somewhere.”

“Ah yes, the dog. Katy. That’s the name of the dog,” Whittaker explained.

“Nice name,” suggested Mollie. “What kind of a dog is she?”

Kendall sighed loudly. “Does it matter?” he asked. “I mean is it ….”

Whittaker shook his head. “I don’t know I’m afraid,” he replied. “A bitser, you know.”

Kendall wondered what a ‘bitser’ was, but decided not to ask. “Katy, okay, so the dog’s name is Katy, and she’s a bitser,” he interrupted. “And she’s still wandering around the beach. Carry on.”

Whittaker looked at Kendall and nodded. “Well Brian finds the dog down by the shore line. He calls out but the dog doesn’t budge. Odd thinks Brian, Katy was usually ….”

“I know,” said Kendall. “She was usually such a good dog, and liked her bread buttered.”

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his left calf. He guessed correctly that the pain was directly connected to Mollie’s right foot hitting him, and hitting hard.

The Inspector was totally oblivious to what was happening. “Anyway, Brian walks down towards the shore line,” he continued. “Suddenly he realises that the dog is standing next to a dark shape, a heap on the ground. He can’t tell what it is until he gets closer, and then he sees that it is the body of a man lying in the sand.”

“A dead body, I’m guessing,” said Kendall.

“Oh yes, quite dead,” replied Whittaker. Brian initially thought that the person must have fallen overboard from some ship, drowned, and had then got washed up on to the shore.” He paused and took a drink. “He bends down to take a closer look, and then noticed that the man had been stabbed, the knife is lying on the ground next to the body. He foolishly picks it up and as he is standing there an officer from the local Garda arrives.”

“Garda?” repeated Kendall. “What exactly is Garda?”

“Garda is what they call the local police,” Whittaker explained.

“Quite a co-incidence wasn’t it,” said Kendall. “Turning up right at that moment.”

Molly looked at Kendall. She knew exactly what Kendall thought of co-incidence. He didn’t believe in it.

The Chief inspector rubbed his chin. “Never gave that any thought, to be honest,” he said. “But seeing as you mentioned it, it does seem a bit odd I must say.”

“Understatement,” murmured Kendall.

“As I said they turn up, and see Brian standing there,” Whittaker continues. “They make some enquiries. It seems that the man was a certain Abel Nadir, who came from Turkey. Anyway they carry out a post mortem. He hadn’t drowned, there was no sea water in his body. He had died from three knife wounds. One to the chest, and two to the back, presumably as the man staggered, and fell to the ground. And they’ve charged Brian with the murder.”

“Charged him,” said Kendall smiling. “He is standing there, next to a dead body and he’s holding a knife, and they’ve charged him.” Kendall paused and took a drink. “It isn’t really that surprising is it?”

“I suppose not,” the Chief Inspector reluctantly agreed.

“It’s quite possible that you would have come to the same conclusion,” said Kendall.

Once again Whittaker reluctantly agreed. “In those exact circumstances, I have to say that you are probably right.”

“So tell me, can they prove it?” asked Kendall. “I mean, okay so they can put him at the scene of the crime, and maybe he had the opportunity, but what was the possible motive?”

“I’m not sure really. I mean I guess they think they can prove it,” replied Whittaker. “As for a motive, well robbery was suggested, but they found nothing on Brian. Nothing of any value.”

“I suppose he could have hidden whatever it was, couldn’t he?” suggested Mollie.

“He could have,” said the Chief Inspector. “But he didn’t. Brian wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Kendall shook his head. “I’ve heard that one before Chief Inspector, and I suspect you have too.”

“Correct, I have many times, but in this case it happens to be true, Tom.”

“Were you there?” asked Kendall. “I mean were you an eye witness. You saw the whole thing.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry to be so harsh but you never saw it, so you can’t possibly know.”

The Chief Inspector drained his glass, and started to smile. “I hear what you say, Tom, and you are right. I wasn’t there. I didn’t see anything, but I know he didn’t do it.”

Now it was Kendall’s turn to smile. “How do you know?” he asked. “How are you so sure?”

“That’s simple, Tom,” Whittaker replied. “Brian told me, and I believe him.”

Kendall shook his head. “If I’d had a dime for every guilty guy who insisted that they were innocent, I’d be a wealthy guy, and I wouldn’t need to work.”

The Chief Inspector smiled. “But I know Brian, you see,” he said. “He didn’t do it.”

“You know, Chief Inspector, I would have expected you to say something just like that,” Kendall replied. “So no surprises there.”

The Chief Inspector smiled. “Okay, I understand that, but really I do know him, and he couldn’t have done it.”

Kendall was unsure, hesitant. “Maybe, maybe not. But why me?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” asked the Chief Inspector.

“Why me, it’s simple enough,” Kendall replied. He suddenly felt another sharp pain in his calf where Mollie had just kicked him once again. He glared at her and she smiled back.

“The Chief Inspector needs our help,” she said quite simply. “So why not you.”

“Why not just speak to the Irish police, said Kendall, ignoring Mollie’s comment. “The, what did you call them, the Garda. Why not let them deal with it. They do that kind of thing, and they won’t charge you a fee.”

The Inspector nodded. “Oh I see,” he replied and smiled at Mollie. “Well the truth of the matter, is that I don’t altogether trust them. The local police officer, Police Constable Seamus Donovan, is probably alright, but he is young and very inexperienced. I need someone independent. Someone who could investigate the matter without any strings attached. Someone like ….”

“In other words, someone like me,” said Kendall. “A private detective.”

“That’s right,” said Whittaker, smiling. “Someone like you, Tom. I would like you to go over to Ireland, to Killmacud, and see what you can find out, please.”

Kendall shook his head. “And how am I expected to investigate something that happened months ago?” he asked.

The Chief Inspector looked at Mollie, and smiled. “Oh, I imagine you will find a way.”

Mollie nodded. “He certainly will,” she agreed. “He’ll badger his way through.”

Kendall glared at Mollie, and made a face. “Suppose I find that he’s guilty as charged, what then?” he asked.

The Chief Inspector shrugged his shoulder, and sighed. “Then he’s guilty. What can I say?”

Kendall looked at the Chief Inspector and smiled. He shook his head. “I don’t think so, no I’m sorry, you best get someone else.” There was another sharp pain in his leg.

“Of course we’ll be happy to help,” said Mollie. “Won’t we Kendall?”

Kendall nodded. “Sure, we will,” he replied. He started to smile and looked at Mollie. “No problem.”

“We wanted to go to Ireland anyway,” said Mollie, placing her hand on Whittaker’s arm. “Now here’s our chance.” She looked at Kendall.

“And at no cost to you,” added Whittaker.

Kendall nodded. “Right, here’s our chance,” he repeated. He took a drink and looked at Whittaker. “You win. We’ll go, and see what we can find out, but I’m making no promises.”

“Fair enough, no promises,” repeated the Chief Inspector.

“By the way, are the Irish police aware of Charters’ activities?” asked Mollie. “I mean his investigating the smuggling.”

Whittaker shook his head, “I don’t really know,” he replied. “But I’m guessing the answer is no.”

Kendall heaved a sigh. “It’s probably not relevant anyway.”

“Maybe not,” replied Whittaker unconvinced. “So when can you leave?” he asked.

Kendall heaved a sigh, and looked at Mollie. He raised an eyebrow. She smiled at him and nodded. Kendall turned back to face Whittaker. “How soon can you make the necessary arrangements?”

Whittaker thought for a few moments. “A week,” he suggested.

Kendall looked at Mollie. She nodded once again. “So that’s it then, we leave in a week’s time,” Kendall agreed. “So whereabouts are we going?”

“Carrick Cove is where the body was found,” the Chief Inspector explained. “It’s over on the west side, a village going by the name of Killmacud. I’ll make a booking for you at the Kerry Hotel.”

“Look forward to it,” said Mollie. She looked at Kendall. “We always wanted to go to Ireland didn’t we?”

Kendall started to laugh. “Oh sure we did,” he replied. “I just didn’t want another murder to go with us.”

Whittaker started to laugh. He looked at his watch. “It’s later than I thought, I have a meeting with the Commissioner.” He stood up. “I must go.”

Kendall stood up. “Well it’s been interesting Chief Inspector,” he said. “We’ll be in touch.”

“What about your fees?” Whittaker asked.

“What about them?” replied Kendall.

The Chief inspector looked puzzled for a moment. “Well I’d like an idea of how much this is going to cost me,” he replied.

Kendall smiled and shook his head. “There’ll be no fee.”

“But I have to pay you something,” Whittaker protested.

Kendall raised his hand and shook his head once again. “Look, we are going to Ireland for a holiday, right. Well nobody works on holiday do they?”

“You pay for the hotel, and expenses, that’s all we’ll need,” said Mollie.

Kendall said nothing, but merely smiled and nodded.

* * *

Chapter Five

The Emerald Isle

Seven days later, Kendall and Mollie arrived in Killmacud, a small town on the west coast of Ireland, not far from Killarney. The journey from England had been uneventful, and the thought of a few days holiday in Ireland was getting to be quite exciting, and they were both looking forward to it.

Of course, there was that small matter of a murder to be investigated which might prove to be something of a distraction, especially when you remembered that the murder had taken place three months previously, and that the local police, the Garda, already had a suspect in custody, with more than enough evidence to prove his guilt. It appeared to be an open and shut case, with nothing more to be said. In the circumstances, therefore, Kendall didn’t really expect to gain very much by his investigation. In fact, if the truth be known, he considered it to be a great big waste of time. Nonetheless, he had given his word to the Chief Inspector. And he was a man of his word, so he would give it his best shot, for what it was worth.

When they had landed at Cork Airport that afternoon, the sky was clear, and the forecast had promised a warm and sunny day ahead, with good weather for the days following. So, at the very least, a few days with pleasant weather sounded good to Kendall. He vowed to make the most of it, and to relax and enjoy himself. He had his Guide book, and his camera, and he was looking forward to some sightseeing. However, like many a promise made, this was another that was destined to be broken.

As the taxi pulled up outside what appeared to be the local hotel, the sun disappeared, the sky clouded over, there was a loud crash of thunder, and the rain started to fall.

“Here we are,” said the taxi driver. “O’Rourkes.”

Kendall looked mystified. “O’Rourkes!” he repeated, his mood now as black as the sky. “I wanted The Kerry Hotel, not O’whatever you said.”

“O’Rourke’s,” the driver helpfully repeated.

“Yes, that, O’Rourke’s,” agreed Kendall. “But I wanted the Kerry hotel.”

“Sure you did,” replied the driver. “That’s what you were telling me at the airport. I remember exactly what you said. You said that you wanted to be taken to the Kerry Hotel, in Killmacud, now isn’t that right.”

Kendall sighed. That was right, there was no dispute. “So why have you brought us here?” he asked, trying not to sound too angry.

“Ah, well now, what do you see when you take a look out there?” the driver pointed at the building. “O’Rourke’s, or the Kerry Hotel? No matter, because you see ‘tis one and the same place, and more to the point, it’s the only hotel there is for miles,” the driver replied, a huge grin spreading across his face. “So, if it’s Killmacud you’ll be wanting, this is where you’ll need to be staying, for there’s nowhere else you see.”

Kendall knew when he was beaten. He stepped out of the cab. He looked at the hotel, and shook his head. He looked as dismal as the weather. He just hoped that it wasn’t as damp inside.
What had he let himself in for? Chief Inspector or not, Whittaker had a lot to answer for.
He began to wonder just what kind of a trip this was going to be.

“That’ll be thirteen euros, if you please,” said the driver holding out his hand.

Kendall opened his wallet and took out a ten euro note, and a twenty. He reluctantly handed them to the driver.

“Thirteen I said, not thirty,” said the driver, as he handed the twenty euro note back. “Would you be having a five there somewhere?” he asked pointing to the wallet.

Kendall shook his head. He didn’t know if he had a five, or not. All of the notes looked the same to him. He fanned the notes out in his hand. “Do you see one there?” he asked. “If you do it’s yours.”

The driver’s hand hovered over the notes for a few seconds, and then suddenly withdrew one of the notes. “There we are,” he announced. “There’s a five euro note.” He started to take out some change.

“Keep the change,” said Mollie as she got out of the cab. “Come on, Kendall let’s get inside before we get soaked.”

“Oh yes,” said Kendall, still in shock. “Keep the change, by all means.”

The driver thanked him, put the taxi into gear and drove away.

“Well, here we are,” said Kendall, looking at the hotel. There was another loud crash of thunder, and the rainfall grew heavier. “For our sins. Although what we’ve done to deserve this I just don’t know.”

* * *

“Does it always rain like this?” Kendall asked as he entered the bar, shaking the rain from his coat.

A dozen pairs of eyes turned in Kendall’s direction. “Ah now, well, sometimes it does, and sometimes it doesn’t,” came a comment from someone sitting over in the corner. “You never can tell.”

“Ah now, you won’t want to be taking notice of him,” said a man behind the bar. “It’s usually much worse than this. But there, if only you had come last week. We had nothing but glorious sunshine, morn ‘til night, day after day.” He paused for a moment, waiting for Kendall to remove his coat. “O’Rourke’s the name, Sean O’Rourke proprietor of this here establishment.” He paused once again. “Now then what can I get you?”

Mollie stepped forward. “We have some rooms booked,” she explained. “In the name of Kendall.”

“Mr. Kendall, and Miss Adams is it, ‘tis good to be seeing you,” said O’Rourke, extending his hand. “You’ve come for the fishing no doubt. No finer fishing here than anywhere.”

Kendall shook his head, and wondered how anyone could possibly do any fishing with such rain. “No, not fishing,” he replied. “A few days holiday.”

“Ah, so it’s a holiday so it is,” O’Rourke replied. “So, how long are you planning on staying with us?”

A good question,
Kendall thought.
How long indeed.
So far he wasn’t impressed. He heaved a sigh.
Hopefully, not that long, just the one night maybe.
He looked at Mollie, then looked at O’Rourke. “Difficult to say,” he replied. “A week or two I guess.”

“Well I hope you enjoy your stay,” O’Rourke replied. “Your rooms are ready. Just leave your bags down there.” He indicated a space over in the corner of the room. “I’ll get young Keiron to take them up later.”

“Thank you, Mr. O’Rourke,” said Mollie.

“’Tis my pleasure, Miss,” said O’Rourke. “Now how about a little drink? Something to drive away the cold.”

Kendall looked at Mollie and nodded. It was the first good suggestion that he had heard that day. “Sounds like a good idea to me,” he said. “I’ll have a whiskey, and a little water, very little. And you Mollie?”

“I’ll have a martini, please,” she replied.

“Coming right up,” said O’Rourke, as he started to pour the drinks. “So, Mr. Kendall, how was your journey? No problems I hope.”

“Oh, it was okay, I guess,” Kendall replied. “At least it was very quick. I mean forty minutes from Stansted to Cork isn’t too bad. I mean it took longer to get from the airport to here. In fact it took longer to re-claim our baggage.”

O’Rourke placed the drinks on to the counter. “Here we are, now, and good health to you.” He paused for a few moments. “Kendall,” he said suddenly. “’Tis a fine old Irish name it is to be sure, if ever I heard one.”

“Maybe it is, but I’m not Irish,” Kendall replied.

“Not Irish, you’re joking,” O’Rourke replied. “I can hardly believe that.”

“Did yer say yer name was Kendall?” asked somebody seated a few yards away. “You’ll not be related to the Kendalls of County Clare I’m thinking.”

Kendall smiled and shook his head. “No I’m not, I’m sorry. I’m not Irish.”

“Right you are, but how about the Kendalls from County Donegal?” suggested O’Rourke.

Kendall shook his head once again. “I’m not Irish, I tell you,” he repeated. “I’m ….”

“Sure you’re not Irish, it’s just as I thought. I have it now,” said O’Rourke. “It’s the accent, there’s no mistaking that. It’s a dead giveaway. You’re Australian, without a doubt.”

“I don’t like Australians,” a voice close by declared.

Kendall glanced around to see who it was, and turned back to the bar. “I’m not Australian, and I’m not Irish,” he said as forceful as he could without being rude. “No, we’re from America. Florida, you know Disney World.”

“You’re an American, is that a fact now?” said an old man sitting at the bar.

“That’s right,” said Kendall smiling, feeling pleased that at last he was getting somewhere. “We’re Americans.”

“I don’t like Americans,” the old man said, and quickly turned away.

Kendall looked around once more, shaking his head, and looking skyward.

“You mustn’t take any notice of old Mulligan there,” said a young man seated at the end of the bar. “He doesn’t like anyone, especially the English, and that’s a fact.”

“And I can vouch for that,” said a well-dressed English man sitting in the corner. “The name’s Mallory by the way, Anthony Mallory, I’m from Berkshire in England.”

Kendall nodded and tried to smile. He wasn’t entirely convinced.

“He’s an edgit,” the young man continued, pointing to Mulligan. “The town drunk. Why we put up with his old nonsense, I just don’t know. He should be in a Home, or locked up.”

“Oh, he’s harmless enough,” said Mallory. “A bit eccentric, but that’s all.”

“He’s crazy,” said the young man. He turned to face Mulligan. He put his hand up to the side of his head, and commenced making a circling motion. “I said you’re a crazy old coot. His mother probably dropped him on his head when he was a baby I’m thinking.”

“Ah, that’s all nonsense,” said O’Rourke. “He was never a baby, and he never had a mother.”

Mulligan said nothing and merely smiled.

“What did I tell you, Mr. Kendall?” said the young man. “He’s as mad as a hatter.” He paused for a moment, and held out his hand. “The name’s Mulvy, by the way, Vincent Mulvy. I’m the local builder hereabouts, for my sins.”

“Of which he has many,” said O’Rourke.

“No job too big, nor too small,” Mulvy added, and smiled. “All work guaranteed.” He reached into his inside pocket, and withdrew a business card. He handed it to Kendall. “You never know when you might need it,” he said, and smiled.

The old man stood up and walked up to Kendall. “Mulligan’s the name, and I don’t like strangers. Any strangers,” he said. “They’re nothing but trouble, and they aren’t to be trusted. Had one in here once, he was locked up.” He placed an empty glass on to the counter in front of Kendall and glared directly at him.

Kendall looked at the glass, then at the man, and then the glass once again. Then it finally dawned on him. He nodded his head. He looked at the bar man. “A drink for the gentleman,” he said. “And I’ll have a scotch.”

The bar fell silent. You could have heard a pin drop had anyone had one and wished to let it fall to the ground. No one did. No one said a word. All eyes turned on Kendall.

Kendall looked at the eyes staring back at him.
What
, he wondered.
What did I do? What did I say? All I did was ask for a drink. So what was the problem?

A man standing at the end of the counter descended from the bar stool that he was occupying, and walked slowly over to where Kendall was sitting.

“The name’s Quinn,” he said almost in a whisper, his hand extended. “Patrick Quinn. I run the local store. I sell everything from apples and pears to cigarettes; bread to newspapers; wine, although not a word to Sean here, to milk. You name it, and I sell it.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Quinn,” Kendall replied, wondering just how much more advertising he would be subjected to, and whether he would actually be expected to buy anything. He shrugged and shook hands.

“Now, Mr. er, Kendall is it?”

Kendall nodded.

“Well, Mr. Kendall, sir, if you ask me I’d say that you were a most discerning man, a man who knew his drink,” Quinn continued. “Would that be right?”

Kendall nodded. “Well I do like the odd drink I must say.”

Mollie smiled. “I’d second that.”

Kendall looked at Mollie and started to frown

“Not that I’m suggesting that you are an alcoholic, or any such thing you understand. I mean I like a drink or three myself.” Quinn quickly cast an eye around the bar, and then back to Kendall. “But I’m thinking that you are a serious drinker, and no mistake.”

“Oh, he’s an expert at it, take my word for it,” said Mollie. “But he’s had years of dedicated practice. In fact you could say that it has been his life’s work.”

Kendall frowned once again.

“What Patrick is trying to say is that you might actually be wanting an Irish whiskey, if I’m not very much mistaken,” said Vincent Mulvy.

“Yes, a proper whiskey,” said the English man, Mallory. “Not that Scottish stuff, that’s only a poor man’s excuse for a drink.”

“Absolutely correct,” agreed Quinn. “We don’t even mention it around here you see. It’s unseemly.”

“It’s just not done,” added Mallory.

“Oh yes,” said Kendall hesitantly, as at long last he realised his mistake. “Of course Irish whiskey by all means, make it a double.” He looked at Mollie and heaved a sigh.

“Drinks all round” he continued turning his hand in a large circle.