Jack Daniels - Casebook

by John Holt

  I have to admit it, but neither could I. Only a few short hours ago he was my number one murder suspect. He had no right to be dead.

  “He’s over there,” Thomas advised, pointing towards the garage block.

  I looked over to where he had indicated. The forensic guys were busy sifting everything they could think of. Detective Bates walked over and joined them. I followed.

  “Okay so what have we got?” Bates asked.

  “He’s been stabbed four times,” an officer replied. “Once in the left shoulder, and three times in the back, somebody wanted to be real sure that he was dead.”

  Bates took a deep breath, and nodded. “How about the time of death?” he asked

  “The doctor puts it between eleven o’clock and one,” said the officer.

  Bates glanced around. “Do we know why he was here?” he asked.

  “I’d guess he was meeting someone,” I suggested. “Maybe the blackmailer to make another pay off.”

  “Could be, I suppose,” Bates replied, shrugging his shoulders. “But I thought you had been employed to keep an eye open for him, the blackmailer I mean?”

  Bates was absolutely right, I had to agree, but Walker was supposed to have kept me advised of any contact there was. I hadn’t heard a word.

  “Funny thing that,” I replied. “He was supposed to tell me about any arranged meetings but he never said anything about any arrangement for today.”

  “Perhaps he decided to act alone,” suggested Bates.

  “Perhaps,” I said. I turned and looked back towards the house. Thomas and Mrs. Walker were still standing by the entrance. Bates and I walked over to them.

  * * *

  “I’ve a few questions, I’m afraid,” said Bates. “So if we could go inside.”

  “Certainly, we can,” Mrs. Walker replied as she turned towards the house. Thomas stepped forward and opened the main door, standing to one side allowing us to pass by.

  “We’ll go into the living room,” she said. “Can I get you some tea?”

  I didn’t think I’d get a better offer, so I took it. “That’ll be good,” I replied. “Cream, and one sugar.”

  And you Mr. Bates?” said Mrs Walker.

  “Not for me,” Bates said, but he was too late, Thomas had already left the room.

  “Please sit down, gentlemen,” Mrs. Walker said. “Thomas won’t be long.”

  I looked at Bates. He simply nodded.

  “Mrs. Walker, I know this must be a bad time for you, but if you could answer a few questions,” I said.

  She raised a hand to her face and brushed her cheek. “If I can help in any way.” she replied. “If it helps find Denis’ murderer.”

  I wondered how much of this whole affair did she actually knew. I knew that she was aware of the blackmailing, but did she know the reason behind it? Did she know about her husband’s cheating? Did she know about the Carlton Hotel, and Miss. Franklin? Guess I’d never know unless I asked.

  “You know that your husband was being blackmailed,” I said. “But did you know why?”

  She looked at me, and took a deep breath. She shook her head. “Yes I knew about the blackmail, but I never knew why,” she replied. “I knew there was something. I just didn’t know what.”

  “Why did you think that?” Bates asked.

  She shook her head, and took a deep breath. “I’m not sure,” she said. “He just seemed troubled, something was worrying him. Work maybe, but I wasn’t sure.”

  “He never said anything to you?” Bates asked.

  “No he never said anything. That’s how he was,” she continued. “He said that I wasn’t to worry, and that he would take care of it.” She paused and a tear ran down her cheek. “And now he’s gone. How will I ever manage without him?”

  How indeed, I wondered, though I guessed that with almost two billion dollars at her disposal, she’d muddle through. For a fraction of a millisecond, I wondered how Miss. Terri Franklin would manage. Of course she didn’t even know he was dead yet. Then I thought who cares? Presumably in the eight months she’d been seeing Walker she had made provision, and had managed to accumulate a nice little nest egg.

  Mrs. Walker looked up. “He always wanted to protect me, you understand,” she said. “To keep me from harm, that’s what he used to say.”

  * * *

  Chapter Twelve

  Just A Few More Questions

  Bates looked at me. Clearly he was as impressed as I was. I merely heaved a sigh. He turned to face Mrs. Walker. “Who actually found your husband?”

  “It was Thomas, who found him,” she replied. “Denis had gone out to the garage about ten, ten thirty, something like that. I never gave it much thought.”

  “Oh, why not?” I asked.

  “It was nothing unusual,” she started to explain. “He often went out there, to look at his toys.”

  “His toys,” I repeated. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Yes he has – had - two vintage cars,” she explained. “They are worth a lot of money. He never ever drives them but he is always polishing them, or something. I couldn’t see the point myself. I would have sold them long ago.”

  Don’t ask me why, but that rattled my cage, if you know what I mean. There was just something about it. Not so much what she said, but how she said it. Now of course Mrs. Walker you are completely free to do just that. You can now do whatever you like with the guy’s money. But have the funeral first.

  “Did he say that was why he was going out to the garage?” I asked.

  “I think so,” she replied. “I’m not sure now. I don’t remember.” She paused for a moment, and brushed another tear from her cheek. “But he was gone for hours, so I just assumed that was the reason, I suppose.”

  I guessed that made sense, sort of.

  “Okay, so Thomas eventually went out to the garage, and found him,” said Bates. “Do you know what made him go there?”

  Mrs. Walker shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t know. I wasn’t actually here.”

  “But I thought ….” Bates started to say.

  “Shortly after Denis went out I went to my room,” she explained. “One of my headaches I’m afraid.”

  Suddenly the door opened and Thomas returned with the tea. He placed the tray on to a side table. “Will there be anything else?” he asked.

  Mrs. Walker looked at him, and then looked at Bates. “I think these gentlemen may have some questions for you.”

  Bates smiled and raised his hand. “Yes, just before you go Thomas, I do have a few questions, if that is alright.” He looked at Mrs. Walker. She nodded. “Firstly do you know why Mr. Walker had gone out to the garage?”

  Thomas nodded. “Oh yes, sir,” he replied. “He said that he wanted to get something from one of the cars.”

  “He never said anything about meeting anyone?” I asked.

  Thomas shook his head. “No sir, he said nothing like that. He just needed something that’s all.”

  Strange I thought. There was something decidedly odd. “He wanted something from the car,” I said. “As simple as that.”

  “That is correct, sir,” replied Thomas.

  “Did he say what it was?” Bates asked.

  Thomas shook his head. “No sir, he said nothing about it, just that he needed something, and that he would go and get it.”

  “Thomas, why didn’t he ask you to go?” I asked. “That would have been quite natural wouldn’t it?”

  Thomas nodded. “Yes sir, it would. I actually queried that with him, but he insisted that he wanted to get it himself.”

  “Perhaps it was something he didn’t want Thomas to see,” Mrs. Walker suggested.

  Perhaps, I thought, but I didn’t really think it was likely. “Such as?” I asked.

  Mrs. Walker shook her head. “Oh I don’t know. It was just a thought.”

  Just a thought, I guess so.

  “So what made you eventually go out to the garage, Thomas?” I asked.


  Thomas looked puzzled. He looked at me as though I was from another planet. “Why? Because I thought that there was something wrong, that’s why.”

  “Something wrong,” said Bates. “Like what?”

  Thomas took a deep breath. “Mr. Walker had been gone several hours,” he started to explain. “I had expected him to be gone for just a short time, perhaps half an hour, no more. But he had been gone for two hours. I thought that maybe he had fallen, or something. Maybe had a heart attack.”

  It happens I thought. You never knew with things like that, they could happen any time, when you least expected them.

  “Did he have a bad heart?” I asked Mrs. Walker.

  She shook her head. “No, Denis was perfectly healthy.” She replied. “He had a full medical check-up just two weeks ago.”

  Okay, so that covered that point, simple enough.

  “Okay so you went out to the garage,” said Bates. “Go on, what happened then?”

  “There’s not much more to tell,” Thomas said. “There he was, lying just inside the garage door. There was a lot of blood, and he was dead.”

  “Did you see anyone, or hear anything?” I asked.

  Thomas gave a simple “No,” answer.

  I was puzzled. Thomas had suggested that Walker had gone to get something from the car. It would take him a few minutes only, and certainly no more than thirty minutes. But Mrs. Walker seemed to be suggesting that he had gone to a garage for a totally different purpose. A purpose that would mean he could have been there for some hours. And during all of the time she was in her room, lying down, with a headache.

  “You know, Mrs. Walker, I don’t actually think your husband went out to look at his cars, or to fetch something,” I said. “I think he went for a totally different reason.”

  “Well why did he go outside?” she asked.

  I looked at her and shrugged. “I think that your husband had arranged to meet someone, someone who was blackmailing him. And I believe it was that someone who murdered your husband.”

  “Murdered him, but why?” asked Mrs. Walker.

  Good question I thought. “I’m not entirely sure at present,” I replied. “Maybe I’ll get some answers by taking a look around outside.” I stood up. “You have been very helpful.”

  “I’ll come with you,” said Bates standing up, his tea untouched. He looked at Mrs. Walker “Thank you for your help,” he said. “I may need to speak with you again, but I’ve finished for now. We’ll be outside for a while.”

  * * *

  We were about fifty yards from the house when I realized that Thomas had followed us.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said as he caught up with us. We stopped and turned. “I didn’t want to say anything in there.” He pointed back towards the house. “Not in front of Mrs. Walker.”

  “What did you want to tell me, Thomas?” asked Bates.

  Thomas took a deep breath. “It may not be anything you understand,” he continued. “But about forty minutes before going to the garage, Mr. Walker received a telephone call.”

  “Go on,” said Bates.

  “It was from a lady.”

  “A lady,” I repeated. “What lady?”

  “Did you recognize the voice?” Bates asked.

  Thomas shook his head. “No sir, I didn’t,” he replied. “I actually think it was disguised deliberately.”

  “What do you mean, Thomas?” asked Bates.

  “I really don’t know anything more. It was just a lady,” Thomas replied, and he then turned and hurried back to the house.

  * * *

  Chapter Thirteen

  Back to Square One

  “Found anything yet?” Bates asked as we arrived back at the garage.

  “Some footprints,” the officer replied. “A woman’s, just along there.” He pointed a few yards away. “But nothing significant I’m afraid. He was struck on the left shoulder as he entered the garage. As he staggered to his right, there were three more stab wounds to his back. Whoever it was who killed him was waiting for him. And whoever it was wanted him dead, and no mistake.”

  “A woman’s footprints,” I murmured. I looked at Bates. “Could that be the same woman that Thomas was talking about?”

  “Could be I guess,” Bates replied. “But we still don’t know who she was do we?”

  Sadly I had to admit that he was right.

  Bates looked back at the police officer. “He was struck from behind, you said.” The officer nodded. “Then he never actually saw his killer then.”

  “Guess so,” said the officer.

  Bates looked at me. “So the idea of being silenced because he recognized someone doesn’t seem feasible does it?”

  I nodded my agreement.

  Bates walked into the garage and switched on the light. He turned to face the officer. “Did you switch the light off?” he asked.

  The officer shook his head. “It was already off,” he replied.

  Bates nodded, but said nothing.

  He turned. “Well I guess I’ve a report to write up.” He looked back at the officer. “I’ll want your full report, and the doctor’s findings, as soon as you can.”

  The officer shrugged and smiled.

  Bates turned to look at me. “I’m about done here,” he said. “Coming?”

  We started to walk back towards the house. “You know I’m not convinced about this so-called blackmailer,” I said.

  “What do you mean?” Bates asked. “But only a little while ago you were saying that he was the killer. So what are you saying now?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not really sure,” I replied trying not to sound too vague. “But there’s something very wrong, and we’re missing it. Correction I’m missing it.”

  “Come on, out with it,” said Bates. “If you’ve something to say, say it. If I don’t like it I’ll shout you down.”

  I took a deep breath. Bates couldn’t be fairer than that could he? “I’m beginning to think that there never was a blackmailer,” I started to explain. “Not in the normally accepted understanding of the word that is.”

  Bates shook his head. “But Brady she was blackmailing him wasn’t she, you actually supplied the information she used.”

  I smiled and nodded my head. “I know I did,” I agreed. “But what do we know about Brady anyway? According to the records she doesn’t even exist.”

  Bates nodded. “Well that’s certainly true,” he replied. “We only have that name because of that envelope found on her body.”

  “Tell me this, why should she have a name in her bag that means nothing?” I said. “I mean it can’t be her real name, otherwise there’d be a record somewhere.”

  Bates wasn’t entirely convinced. “Maybe, you’re right, so what are you saying.”

  “Whoever killed her, deliberated removed every scrap of identification, and left that scrap of paper in her bag.”

  “To confuse us,” suggested Bates.

  “To confuse us, yes,” I replied. “But, also to delay us starting the investigation, I mean without a proper identification it made a start very difficult.”

  “Yes I can along with that,” said Bates. “But whatever her name is doesn’t change the fact that she did blackmail Walker.”

  “Okay so I agree on that, but I still have a problem with this whole blackmail thing anyway.” I paused for a moment. “Certainly I don’t accept the whole idea of a second blackmailer, Brady’s partner.”

  “Why not?” asked Bates.

  “Two main reasons,” I replied. “One, Walker was going to keep me informed whenever he heard from the blackmailer. Well I never heard a word.”

  “Perhaps he decided to deal with it himself, just to pay up,” suggested Bates.

  “Perhaps, but I don’t think so,” I said, shaking my head. “You know I saw Walker the other day, at the Carlton. He was with his young lady friend.”

  “Miss. Franklin?” said Bates

  “The very same,” I replied. “She was d
ressed to kill. And the two of them were going into every shop you could imagine.”

  “So it didn’t look like he was that concerned about being seen then,” suggested Bates.

  “My point precisely,” I said. “He wasn’t in the least concerned.” I paused and heaved a sigh. “No, there was no second blackmailer, I’m convinced of that.”

  “So we are back to square one then,” said Bates.

  “Further back than that,” I replied.

  “I don’t understand,” said Bates.

  “Well not only don’t we know who killed Brady, or whatever her name was,” I started to explain. “Now we don’t know who killed Walker either.”

  “Right,” said Bates heaving a sigh.

  “The only good thing though, I’m guessing that both murders were carried out by the same person,” I said.

  Bates nodded. “I agree, so who was it?”

  “Ah, I’m still working on that,” I replied.

  “Have you anyone in mind?” asked Bates.

  This next part of my theory was just a little bit trickier. “Let me ask you a different question,” I said. “If Walker didn’t kill Brady then who do you think did?” I asked. “Who else would have a motive, and who else would be able to plant clues, and try to set him up?”

  Bates thought for a few moments. “You can’t possibly mean Mrs. Walker,” he replied shaking his head. “I mean what motive would she have? I just don’t go along with that.”

  I have to admit that it did seem a little farfetched, and most unlikely. But someone planted the cufflink. The more I thought about it the more convinced I became. But I still lacked the proof. And Bates was right, what possible motive would Amanda Walker have?

  Maybe Bob Chandler might have something to add, something that will tip the scale, the final piece of the puzzle.

  * * *

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bob Chandler

  So now where was I? Oh yeah, Denis Walker was dead. My prime suspect for the murder of Susan Brady, had, himself, been murdered. So now we had two victims and no suspects, apart from an unknown woman who had telephoned Walker. For a while I wondered if the mystery lady had been Miss. Terri Franklin. It wasn’t likely. Clearly, Walker would have told her never to ring him at home. So who was the lady?