by John Holt
“Right, so what did you want to ask me?” said Quinn.
“Let’s start with the day of the murder shall we,” said Kendall. “Where were you when it happened?”
Quinn took a deep breath. “Not sure that I like where this is leading to.”
Kendall smiled. “Leading to ... not sure what you mean. I’m just asking a few simple questions, nothing more.”
There was a sudden noise as the door opened and a customer walked in. Quinn gave a cursory nod, and turned back to face Kendall. “So where were we?”
“I was asking about the day the guy on the beach was found,” replied Kendall.
Quinn heaved a sigh. “Look I’m a busy man, and really I can’t see the point to all this. The Garda have charged Charters with the murder, and he goes to trial in a few months.”
“That’s quite right, Mr. Quinn,” agreed Kendall.
“So why the questions,” replied Quinn. “Besides I’ve been over it all with the police, they seemed satisfied.”
Kendall nodded. “I’m sure they were,” he said. “Don’t doubt it for a moment.”
“So why?” asked Quinn, looking around for the customer who had just entered the store. There was no sign of them. Couldn’t be bothered waiting, thought Quinn.
“I appreciate what you say,” said Kendall. “The thing is there are some who don’t think Charters did the killing. They think that perhaps he was set up.”
“Who thinks that?” asked Quinn. “He was seen wasn’t he, with the knife in his hand. What more do you need?” Quinn paused for a moment, shaking his head. “He did it and no mistake, There’s no smoke without fire. The police have their man, and the police know what they are doing.”
“Well strangely enough one of the people who think he’s innocent is a cop,” replied Kendall. “A Chief Inspector from Scotland Yard, in fact. He has asked me to look into the case. That’s why I’m here.” He paused for a few moments. “So if you could help me out I’d appreciate it.”
Quinn sighed. “Okay, okay, you win. Let’s get it over and done with,” he said. “What do you want to know?”
“Where were you that day, the day the body was discovered?”
Quinn started to smile. “Where would I be?” he replied, looking around. “Nowhere else but right here, in the shop.”
“The whole day?” Kendall asked.
“Yes the whole day,” Quinn replied. “From seven in the morning when we opened, until seven in the evening.” He paused for a moment. “Mrs. Mulvy came in at about a quarter to seven, she needed some sugar for Vincent’s tea, if I remember correctly. I closed up as soon as she had gone.”
“Was anyone here with you?” Kendall asked. “Apart from customers?”
Quinn shook his head. “I was here all on my own,” he said angrily. “Shamus, that worthless lad who is supposed to work here, had called in sick, again.”
“But you were in here that whole time?” Kendall continued.
“Sure now where else would I be going?” Quinn replied. “Of course I was here, I couldn’t very well leave the shop could I?”
“Did Charters come in that day?” Kendall asked.
Quinn thought for a few moments, and shook his head. “No I don’t think so. I certainly don’t remember him coming that day.” He shook his head once again. “Why not ask him,” he continued. “Does it matter anyway?”
Kendall had to admit that it probably didn’t really matter. He also had to admit that he wasn’t really getting anywhere either. “Can you tell me where this, er.... Mrs. Mulvy lives?”
“Sure I can,” Quinn replied. “It’s number twenty-six Carysfort Avenue, just past Flaherty’s. But sure now you can’t think she was involved in any way.”
Kendall smiled and shook his head. “Oh no, I don’t think so. Just a few loose ends that’s all,” he replied. “Did you see anyone else, round about the same time as Mrs. Mulvy?”
Quinn shook his head. “I can’t think of anyone else.”
“Mr Lynch, maybe?” Kendall suggested.
“Derren Lynch,” Quinn repeated. “No not at all. You’ll never seen Derren at that time of day. He’d usually be out on that boat of his.”
Kendall nodded. “You’ve been very helpful, Mr. Quinn,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’ve no need to take up any more of your time.”
Quinn took hold and shook it. “No trouble,” he said. “No trouble at all.”
Kendall turned and walked towards the door. When he reached the door he stopped, and turned. “By the way, you never called for an ambulance did you?”
“An ambulance?” Quinn repeated.
“Yes, that day, the day of the murder,” explained Kendall. “You didn’t call for one did you?”
Quinn shook his head. “No, it wasn’t me. Why would I want an ambulance?”
“I thought not,” replied Kendall, as he waved and went out.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mrs. Mulvy
Carysfort Avenue is the main road out of Killmacud, heading south. In fact, it was the only road out of the village. Number twenty-six was located at the end of a terrace of six properties dating back to mid Victorian times. They were small, two up and two down, cottages, that had probably been quite fashionable in their day, but now they were owned by the local Corporation, and they were suffering from many years of neglect.
As Kendall drew near to number twenty-six the clock tower struck two o’clock. Kendall checked his watch. It was five minutes slow. He made the necessary adjustment, and then looked back at the house. He could see a lady in the front garden, she was bending down, and pruning her roses. “It’s Mrs. Mulvy?” he asked as he stopped at the gate. “Is that right?”
The lady stopped pruning. She stood up and walked over to the gate. “That’s right, I’m Bridgit Mulvy,” she replied. “What can I do for you?”
Kendall had intended to make a formal appointment, and had telephoned earlier. There had been no answer, so he decided to take a chance and just call on her.
“My name’s Kendall,” he started to explain. “I’m a private detective from America, and I was just passing ....”
“I know who you are,” she said. “My husband, Vincent, has told me everything about you. You’re here to find out about that terrible murder aren’t you?”
Kendall nodded.
“My son, Colin, is in America,” Mrs. Mulvy continued busily cutting her plants. “He works for Boeing in Seattle. Do you know it?”
Kendall had to admit that although he had heard of Boeing, he had never been to Seattle. “I’m afraid not,” he said shaking his head. “I’m actually from Florida, you know Disney World.” He smiled. Of all the places in Florida, all that he could think to mention was Disney World.
She nodded. “I haven’t seen him for three years now,” she said looking down. “He telephones when he can, but he doesn’t get a lot of time.”
In other words he never calls her, Kendall thought. Never rings, and probably never writes. Kendall looked at her. Her eyes were glistening, tears were not very far away.
She shrugged, and looked up, then a smile slowly spreading across her face. “But he’ll be home quite soon though. Just another four months.”
Kendall really wasn’t that interested in her plans for a family reunion, but managed a smile nonetheless. “That’ll be nice for you.”
Mrs. Mulvy looked at Kendall and heaved a sigh. “But you haven’t come to talk about my Colin now have you?”
“No, I have to admit, that I haven’t,” Kendall replied. “As you rightly said, I’m here to talk about the murder that took place, here, just a few months ago. You know the body on the beach.”
“Such a dreadful thing to happen,” she responded. “Here in Killmacud, of all places.” She shook her head. “I mean you might expect that sort of thing in Dublin, or Cork, but not here. There’s never been anything like it before. Dreadful, simply dreadful.”
“I’m sure that it was,” r
eplied Kendall trying to sound sympathetic, and failing miserably.
“I saw Mr. Quinn, and he said that you might be along,” she said. “So what can I tell you? The police have arrested that Mr. Charters, and I believe that he has been charged. But I just can’t believe that he would do such a thing. Such a nice man.”
“Did you know him well?” Kendall asked.
“Not really. In fact I didn’t know him at all,” she replied. “He’d say hello as he passed by, or he’d wave, but that was all. He’d never stop to pass the time of day. A quiet man, who kept to himself. ”
“I understand that you saw him, that evening,” said Kendall.
She nodded. “He was out walking his dog, Katy. She’s a lovely little thing, and so friendly.”
Kendall was convinced. She was lovely, and she was friendly, and she probably liked her belly rubbed, and did lots of tricks as well, but he really wasn’t that interested. “Do you know where he was going?”
“Certainly I do,” replied Mrs. Mulvy. “He was heading towards the beach, he always took his dog there, every evening. Regular as clockwork.”
“What time was that?” Kendall asked.
“What time?” she repeated. “Now let me think. It was after I left Mr. Quinn’s.” She paused for a moment. “I needed some sugar you know. My Vincent can’t drink his tea without his sugar.”
“I’m the same with water,” Kendall replied. Mrs. Mulvy looked puzzled. “I can’t drink it without whiskey,” he explained, trying to make a joke.
Mrs. Mulvy started to frown and shook her head, Kendall’s attempt at humour failing totally, and falling on to stony ground.
“Skip it,” Kendall said. “You were saying about the time.”
“Oh yes, the time. I’m not entirely sure but Mr. Quinn was getting ready to close up as I was leaving,” Mrs. Mulvy replied. “So I guess it was about a quarter to seven, maybe later I really don’t know. Maybe ten minutes to.”
“So did you see Mr. Charters actually go to the beach?” Kendall asked.
Mrs. Mulvy started to smile. “Now how would I be seeing that,” she replied. “You can’t see the cove from Mr. Quinn’s store.”
“Right,” Kendall replied. “So did you see anyone else?”
Mrs. Mulvy thought for a moment. She had seen many people that day. Paddy the postman, old man Drew on his way to the betting shop. Then there was Mrs. King. Her Sarah had just given birth to twins, and then there was Mrs. Cain and Connie. Somehow though, she didn’t think that was exactly what Kendall had in mind.
Mrs. Mulvy thought for a few more moments. “Yes there was someone else,” she replied. “It was Sean O’Rourke.”
“O’Rourke did you say?” Kendall replied. “When was that?”
She shook her head. “I can’t remember exactly,” she replied. “It was a bit earlier. I was home here, in the garden, just like now.” She paused for a moment trying to remember. “Six o’clock, maybe, quarter past perhaps, I’m not sure now. I thought it was odd though.”
“Why odd?” asked Kendall.
“Because normally I would have thought that he would have been working at his bar, at that time of day,” Mrs. Mulvy answered. “It’s not often you’ll see him out and about, certainly not in the late afternoon like that.”
“Did you see where he went?” Kendall asked.
She shook her head once again. “He got to the corner of the street, down there.” She pointed. “Then he turned to the right.”
“Where was he going?” Kendall asked.
“Now how am I supposed to know that? He never said, and I didn’t ask,” Mrs. Mulvy replied. “All I know is that he was heading towards Seapoint. It’s down towards the Coast Road,” she explained. “Takes you down to the cove.”
“You mean Carrick Cove?”
“Now tell me this, and tell me no more, is there another cove that I know nothing about maybe?”
Kendall had to admit that no there wasn’t another cove, not that he knew of. “Was there anyone else?” he asked.
“Well there was Mr. Mallory,” Mrs. Mulvy replied. “That was a little later though, after Mr. O’Rourke, perhaps about six thirty, I would say.”
“You’re sure of the time?” Kendall asked.
“No, I’m not exactly sure. It might have been a bit earlier,” she admitted. “But it was about then. I was on my way to Quinn’s.”
Kendall rubbed his chin. This was all very interesting, he thought, but was it relevant. He shook his head. So what about O’Rourke? So he wasn’t tending bar, he was just out for a walk. What was so sinister about that? It’s a free country. He could go for a walk if he wanted to, couldn’t he? And what about Mallory? So he was seen heading towards the cove. What about it? It didn’t actually mean he went there did it? And even if he did what about it?
“Did you speak to either of them?” asked Kendall.
“No, they were too far away,” Mrs. Mulvy replied. “I just gave them a wave, that’s all.”
“Did they wave back?”
“Mr. Charters did,” said Mrs. Mulvy. “But not the others. I don’t think they saw me. O’Rourke certainly never did, he was in too much of a hurry, and he looked very angry.”
“Angry?” Kendall repeated.
“Well maybe not so much angry, but he certainly seemed worried,” Mrs. Mulvy explained. “And he was definitely in a hurry.”
So he was in a hurry, Kendall thought. What was so strange about that? Perhaps he was late for an appointment, or maybe he had forgotten to do something. Happens all the time. Well anyway it certainly did to Kendall.
“Do you have any idea why?” asked Kendall.
Mrs. Mulvy shook her head. “No idea at all,” she replied. “It was just so strange.”
“Strange,” repeated Kendall. “In what way?”
Mrs. Mulvy shook her head once again. “I’ve never ever seen him in such a rush. It was as though his life depended on it.”
Kendall was tempted to ask how she had come to that opinion, but decided that there was probably nothing to be gained.
“Very interesting,” Kendall replied. Although very melodramatic might have been a more accurate statement.
Mrs. Mulvy looked pleased with herself. “Was there anything else?” she asked. “I must get on with his lunch.” She pointed towards the front door. “He doesn’t like to be kept waiting you see.”
“Just one more question,” said Kendall. “You didn’t see Mr. Lynch that day, did you?”
“Derren,” she repeated, shaking her head. “No, you wouldn’t be seeing much of Derren during the day. He would have been out on his boat.”
Kendall smiled. “You’ve been very helpful,” he said, although not entirely sure how helpful she had been. She had certainly raised a few more questions in his mind. “I shan’t need to trouble you anymore.”
He raised his hand and waved, and started to walk away. He suddenly stopped and looked back at her. “You never called for an ambulance that day, the day of the murder,” explained Kendall. “You didn’t call for one did you?”
Mrs. Mulvy shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”
“I didn’t think so,” Kendall replied. “Lovely garden by the way, do you do it all yourself?”
She smiled at him, and nodded. “Oh yes, he’s always too tired after work.”
She bent down, picked up her basket containing the prunings, and walked towards the house. Kendall watched her until she had gone inside, and then continued on his way, he had a few more people to see, and a few more questions to ask.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A Few Questions
Just exactly what had been learnt from his talk with Mrs. Mulvy, Kendall wondered. Had there been anything of interest? Anything to help with his investigation? Anything useful? Was the evidence he was seeking in their somewhere? So O’Rourke had gone for a walk, instead of working at the bar. Big deal, so what. Hardly a crime was it. So he had been in a hurry, and he looked worried
. Could be he had something on his mind. Something that he had forgotten, maybe. Forgot to buy his lottery ticket maybe. People do have worries some time.
And what about Anthony Mallory? He had been seen at about six-thirty, on the day of the murder, heading towards somewhere called Seapoint, which lead down towards the Cove. He was allowed to go out walking wasn’t he?
Why shouldn’t the two of them go for a walk anyway? Did they need anyone’s approval? Did they have to wait for permission? There could have no end of valid reasons. A bit of free time perhaps. A bit of exercise, maybe. Although it had to be said that O’Rourke wasn’t the athletic type. But why shouldn’t he go for a brisk walk? It wasn’t unusual for people to go for a stroll was it?
Kendall shook his head. Wrong, he murmured. In this case it was unusual. Mrs Mulvy had said so. “It’s not often you’ll see him out and about, certainly not in the late afternoon like that.” It still didn’t follow that there was anything sinister about it.
Then there was Lynch. What was that all about? How come nobody had seen him? If he had left his yard at the time he had said, and made his way to O’Rourke’s he should have been seen by several people, including Mrs. Mulvy as she left Quinn’s store. And if he had left the yard at ten minutes to seven, he couldn’t have seen Brian Charters, as he claimed.
Kendall heaved a loud sigh, and shook his head. All that had been achieved was that now, instead of getting the answers he was seeking, he had just acquired a lot more questions.
He looked at his watch. It was just after two thirty. He decided that there was no time like the present to make a start on those questions. First stop would be at the Mallory house.
* * *
Mallory was just coming out of his house as Kendall drove up. “Ah Tom, good to see you again,” he called out. “How’s things?”
Kendall heaved a sigh as he got out of the car. “Oh, okay I guess.” He looked up at the sky. “At least it’s not a bad day for a change.”
