A Case Of Murder (Kendall Book 6)

by John Holt

  Kendall nodded. “Really, that’s nice,” he replied trying to sound interested but failing.

  “It must have been forty year or more,” the elderly man continued. “Now what was her name? Margie, or Maggie, or some such ….”

  Kendall nodded once again. “Right, but if you could just help me, I’d appreciate it.”

  The man looked back at Kendall. “Of course you would, and why wouldn’t you,” he replied. “Now what is it you’ll be wanting then?”

  Kendall pointed to the vacant mooring position. “Do you happen to know when the Sally Mae is due back?”

  “Were you wanting to go out on the water then?” the man replied. “Maybe across to the islands. Oh ‘tis lovely out there, especially this time of the day. You could go with Brendan, he’ll be sailing in a little while.” The man paused for a few moments. “Ah, there he is now,” he continued as he pointed.

  Kendall shook his head. “Could you just tell me when The Sally Mae will be back?”

  “Ah well now, that’s depends, you see,” said the man.

  “Depends,” repeated Kendall. “Depends on what?”

  “When the repairs are finished,” explained the man. “It’s been three days, no four already. Could be another three or four. You can never tell how long these things will take.”

  “What repairs?” Kendall asked.

  “Well now I don’t rightly know,” said the man. “But it were coughing and spluttering something fierce the other day. I thought it was going to explode.”

  “What was going to explode?” asked Mollie.

  The man looked at Mollie and shook his head. “The boat, of course, The Sally Mae, what else,” he replied. He paused for a moment, and looked across the street. “You might get more details from the owners,” he continued. “They are over there in Mooney’s bar”

  Kendall looked in the indicated direction. He had to admit that a drink would not have been unwelcome at that precise time. “Thank you,” he said. “That sounds like a good idea. What do you think Mollie?”

  Mollie heaved a sigh and shrugged her shoulders. “Why ask me?” she said, as she quickly walked to the bar. “Would it make any difference if I said No?”

  * * *

  Mollie pushed the door open and walked into the bar, Kendall just a few feet behind her. It was dark, and their eyes took time to adjust. The room was thick with cigarette smoke. Over in the far corner a three piece band were playing an Irish jig. Kendall began to wonder if it had been such a good idea after all. He decided that in the circumstances he really had no choice. He pushed his way through to the bar.

  Mooney, if indeed it was the man himself, was busy wiping the counter and trying to serve a dozen customers at once, all yelling their orders hoping it would be heard above the general din.

  * * *

  “Ah, now what can I be getting you?” asked Mooney some while later.

  “A whiskey for me,” said Kendall. “And a martini for the lady.”

  “Its Australian you are then,” said Mooney, as he poured the drinks.

  Kendall nodded his head and smiled. “That’s right, Australian.”

  “I’ve a cousin in Australia,” Mooney explained. “You probably know her, Janet O’Hara.”

  “I’ll be sure to look her up when I get home, promise,” Kendall replied. “I’ll give her your very best wishes when I see her.”

  Mooney smiled. Kendall suddenly felt a sharp pain to his left ankle, and it was nothing to do with arthritis.

  “In the meantime do you know the owners of the Sally Mae?” Kendall asked.

  Mooney shook his head. “Sorry I can’t hear you, you’ll need to speak up.”

  “I said do you know the owners of the Sally Mae?” Kendall shouted. As he did so the music suddenly stopped.

  “Sure, I know them,” replied Mooney. “And wouldn’t that be them sitting right over there.” He pointed across to the other side of the room.

  Kendall nodded as he recognised the two men that he had seen speaking to O’Rourke a few days before. “Thank you Mr. Mooney,” he said picking up his drink, and headed towards the table indicated. “I won’t forget whatshername.” Mollie struggled through the crowd and followed.

  As Kendall approached, the two men looked up. “Remember me from O’Rourke’s the other evening?” he asked.

  The two men looked puzzled. Then slowly recognition dawned. “You were talking to that English guy, Mallory,” said the elder of the two men. “I remember you. What can we do for you? Were you looking for a trip on the boat? Because at present the boat is being repaired.”

  “Oh no,” said Kendall shaking his head. “Nothing like that. I prefer dry land. The sea is for fish.”

  “So how can we help?” the man asked.

  Kendall looked around at Mollie. “Mind if we join you,” he replied. “The name is Kendall, and this is Mollie.”

  “Yes Mr. Kendall, have a seat,” said the man. “I’m Frank, and this is my brother Dan.”

  Kendall nodded in acknowledgement.

  “So how can we help you?” asked Frank.

  “First things first,” replied Kendall. “Same again?” He indicated the almost empty glasses in front of the two men. He half turned to face the bar, caught Mooney’s eye, and indicated a round of drinks. Mooney nodded and started to prepare the drinks.

  “Right that takes care of that,” Kendall continued. He paused for a moment and took a drink. He then heaved a sigh. “You know that I’m here to try to help Brian Charters?”

  “The man who murdered the man on the beach,” said Dan.

  “The man who is accused of murdering the man on the beach,” Mollie corrected.

  Frank nodded. “Sure, we know all about that. O’Rourke told us who you were, the other night,” he replied.

  Kendall remembered how the older man had looked at him that night. “I thought so,” he said. “You didn’t look very pleased to see me.”

  Frank smiled, and looked at his brother. “I told you he had noticed didn’t I?”

  Dan nodded. “We don’t get many strangers around,” he started to explain. “Especially strangers asking a lot of questions, about things that happened a long while ago.”

  Mollie smiled, and looked at Kendall. Kendall nodded. Especially if you had something to hide, and those questions were getting a bit too close for comfort. “I thought it might be something like that,” he lied. “So getting back to Brian Charters, some people believe ….”

  “He’s been charged hasn’t he?” Frank interrupted.

  “I thought his trial was coming up soon,” added Dan. “In the next month or so isn’t it?”

  Kendall nodded. “Right on both counts,” he replied. “The thing is I don’t think he did it.”

  Frank looked at Dan, and shrugged his shoulders, clearly unimpressed. “With all due respect, Mr. Kendall, it seems that the Garda don’t share your opinion,” he said.

  “So I’ve heard,” replied Kendall. “But if you could just help me, I’d be obliged.” He looked at the two brothers and heaved a sigh. “I won’t keep you long.”

  Dan looked at his brother and slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I mean what’s the point?”

  “Maybe none,” Kendall agreed. “It’s just a few questions, I mean what’s the harm in that?”

  “Questions,” repeated Frank. “What questions?”

  “Simple ones,” replied Kendall. “Just about that day, the day of the murder.”

  Dan leant forward. “You’re not suggesting that we ....”

  Kendall shook his head, and smiled. “Come on now, be reasonable,” he replied. “I’m not suggesting anything.”

  “You can’t possibly think we had anything to do with it,” Frank protested.

  “To be honest, at present I don’t know what to think,” Kendall replied. “But I do know that I now have sufficient evidence to raise doubts about Charters being the guilty party.” He paused, as Mooney arrived with a tray of dri
nks.

  The drinks were placed on to the table, and Mooney returned to the bar. “I would just like to ask a few questions that’s all,” Kendall continued.

  Frank shook his head. “As my brother said, what’s the point? Why bother? The police have the guy in custody. They think he did it, so it’s just a waste of time.”

  “We have a friend in London, a Chief Inspector at Scotland Yard, he has some doubts about the case,” Mollie started to explain. “He has asked us to just make a few enquiries that’s all. If you could spare some time, you know, it would appreciated.”

  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 i
n 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.