by John Holt
“No I don’t know Carrick Cove,” replied Peterson. He shook his head. “I’ve never been to the west coast.”
Kendall remained silent for a moment, the significance of what he had just heard slowly sinking in, “Oh it’s beautiful,” he replied. “You really should go there if you get a chance.” He paused for a moment. “Anyway, they were found by a couple of young lads.”
“Really,” replied Peters sounding disinterested. “Kendall, I really am sorry, but I say again why come to me?”
“Are you certain that you don’t know Derren Lynch?” Kendall said. “He was so definite. Guess he was mistaken.” He stood up. “I’m afraid I seem to have been wasting your time, and mine. I’m very sorry, and I’ve taken up enough of your time, so I best be going. You’ve been very helpful.” He held out his hand.”
Peters took hold and shook it. “Well I don’t really think I’ve been of much help I’m afraid.”
“Not at all,” said Kendall. “You’ve been of great help.”
Kendall walked to the door and opened it. He suddenly stopped and turned back to face Peterson. “You really should get down there if you can. Carrick Cove, I mean. Maybe take a boat ride out to the islands, watching the whales. Go see Derren Lynch, he’ll be pleased to show you around. Tell him I sent you.”
With that Kendall went out of the office, closing the door behind him.
* * *
Peterson watched the door close and heard Kendall’s footsteps echo down the corridor. He waited until there was complete silence. He stood up and went to the window. A few moments later he saw Kendall crossing the street heading towards the Half Penny Bridge. Peterson turned back to his desk. He reached for the telephone and dialled. It was answered on the third ring.
“I’ve just had that detective here, Kendall,” Peterson said. “They’ve found some of the missing packages.” He paused listening to the response.
“How many?” a voice asked
“I don’t know how many,” Peterson continued. “They were found by a couple of young boys, in a cave at the north end of the cove.”
“I know where you mean,” said the voice.
“You know what to do,” said Peterson. “Get there before they are removed.” He slowly replaced the handset on to the cradle.
One of the men working for him was clearly sending back bits of information. One of his men was branching out. Now he knew who that person was. And he knew what he had to do.
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Four
Bewleys
As Kendall walked over the Half Penny Bridge he wondered just how successful that meeting with Peterson had gone. Had he learnt anything? More to the point had he advanced the investigation any further? Certainly Peterson had been caught out on a number of lies, but were they that significant? So he mentioned another office, when it was known that he only had one. Hardly proof of murder was it? Neither was the mention of a warehouse.
At the end of the bridge and turned to the left and made his way to O’Connell Street. He was feeling quite discouraged, and the thought of tea at Bewleys, or whatever, did little to boost his mood.
“Excuse me,” he said to a young girl standing on the bridge, looking down at the river. “Could you tell me how I get to Bewleys?”
The girl looked up and smiled. “Of course I can,” she replied.
* * *
Five minutes later Kendall arrived at Grafton Street. Three more minutes he was standing outside ‘Bewleys Oriental Cafes Limited.” The smell of coffee was overwhelming, and in the window were row after row of cakes of every description. Chocolate, cream, topped with fruits of every kind. Suddenly Kendall experienced a mood change for the better. He stepped forward and took hold of the brass handles on the double doors, and went in.
Kendall saw Mallory sitting at a corner table, and hurried over to join him. “So this is Bewleys,” he said somewhat unnecessarily.
Mallory smiled. “Yes this is Bewleys,” he replied. “So do you want to stay here, or would you prefer to go to Finnegans, and have that Guinness?”
Kendall looked around, as tray after tray of pastries passed by. “I guess a cup of coffee wouldn’t be too harmful,” he said. “And a couple of those chocolate things might be okay.” He pointed to the tray.
Mallory started to laugh. “A man after my own heart,” he said. “I shall join you.” He looked across at the waitress and signalled. She came over and Mallory placed their order.
* * *
A few minutes later the waitress returned and placed a tray on the table. “Enjoy,” she said, turned and walked away.
“Here we are,” said Mallory, as he passed a coffee over to Kendall. “Help yourself to the cakes.”
Kendall did not need to be asked twice.
“So how did you get on?” Mallory asked. “With our Mr. Peterson?”
Kendall took a bite out of a chocolate gateaux. He shook his head. It was a good question. How had he got on? He brushed a few crumbs from his jacket, and licked his fingers. “Well he never threw me out. So I guess that was a good sign,” he replied. “He did threaten, but it didn’t happen.”
“So how did you get on?” Mallory repeated.
“I’m not really sure,” replied Kendall.
Mallory heaved a sigh. “Come on out with it, what did he say?”
Kendall started to tap the table. “You know I’ve learnt, over the years, how to recognise a lie when I hear one.” He paused and took a drink. “Back there,” he pointed. “I heard a lot more than one. I don’t know what the term is for a whole mess of lies.”
“I’ve no idea,” replied Mallory. “I’d be surprised if there was such a thing.” He paused and took a drink. Mallory took a drink of coffee. “The thing is were they significant lies? I mean were they lies about important things?” he asked.
Kendall shook his head. “Maybe not,” he replied. “For example he mentioned a second office somewhere, and a warehouse in a place called Rathmines. And we know for a fact that there isn’t a second office, or a warehouse.”
“Doesn’t sound too terrible to me,” Mallory replied. “Sometimes people exaggerate, trying to impress maybe. You know make themselves sound more important than they really were.”
Kendall had to admit that it was certainly possibly. Hadn’t he exaggerated some things in the past? To impress his boss, or maybe some girl he was interested in? Hadn’t he told the odd little white lie? It wasn’t really lying after all. Did it really matter anyway? Didn’t do any harm did it? Was it really that significant? Sometimes it was necessary to tell a lie maybe to not hurt someone’s feelings, or not to cause an upset, or worry/ Sometimes it was easier to tell an untruth to prevent a lot of explanation.
He took a drink, and shrugged. “There’s no excuse for lying,” he replied. “Someone, I’ve no idea who, once said that someone who lies about the little things will lie about the big things too. It’s a matter of trust isn’t it? If you catch someone in a lie, no matter how small, you wonder if you can believe anything they tell you.”
Mallory nodded. “Maybe you’re right, but you have to give the benefit of the doubt sometimes, don’t you?” he said. “There’s also a danger that you might be so anti someone, you are already suspicious, and your judgment could be clouded.”
Kendall had to admit there was some truth in what Mallory had said, but he still had his doubts. He knew the difference between an innocent lie, and deliberate concealment. From his experience people normally lied for one reason, and one reason only, to keep something hidden; to cover up for something, a crime or an action; or to mislead.
“Let me order some more coffee, and some more of those chocolate cakes,” said Mallory. “And then you tell me everything that Peterson said, from start to finish.”
Kendall nodded. “Sounds good.”
* * *
“So let’s start shall we?” said Mallory, after the order had arrived. “Did he know the dead man?”
Kendall shook his hea
d. “No, he didn’t. Never seen him before in his life,” he replied. “He was quite adamant, but then he slipped up.”
“Slipped up?” repeated Mallory. “How?”
Kendall said nothing for a moment, and reached for another piece of cake. “Did you know that if a foreigner wanted to work here in Ireland, they would need all kinds of documents? It’s quite involved.”
Mallory nodded. “I imagine it is, but it didn’t apply to me when I first came here.”
Kendall nodded. “No I guess not,” he replied. “It’s probably a lot easier for someone from Europe.” He stopped and took another piece of cake. “But if you came from outside Europe, say Turkey for example, you need all kinds of documents.” He stopped and wiped his face with a paper napkin. “Peterson was very informative. He told me all about it.”
Mallory looked baffled, and wonder where this was leading. “So what?”
Kendall smiled and nodded his head slowly. “The thing is I never told him that Nadir was from Turkey. I just said that he was an immigrant.”
“That is interesting,” agreed Mallory. “So what about Lynch? Did he know him?”
Kendall smiled, and picked up another of the chocolate cakes. “These are good,” he said as he took a big bite.
Mallory nodded. “About Lynch?”
Kendall shook his head. “He denied all knowledge of Derren Lynch,” he replied. “Never heard of him either.”
Mallory looked at Kendall and shrugged. “Well maybe he’s telling the truth,” he said. “Maybe he doesn’t know him. I mean you were only guessing about that weren’t you?”
Was it only a guess? Kendall thought. Or was it something more? A hope maybe, a hope that there was a link between Peterson and Lynch. A link that would help solve the two murders.
“Sure I was bluffing, I know that,” Kendall admitted. “But that bluff was based on strong convictions. You know I was so sure they knew each other. And I’m guessing that I was right, and that Peterson was just telling more lies.”
“But what made you suspicious of Lynch in the first place?” asked Mallory.
“There were a few things I guess,” Kendall started to explain. “Firstly that young boy, Keiron, told me that Charters and Lynch were obviously good friends. Charters apparently spent a lot of time at the boatyard. Why I wondered. Was he that interested in boats?”
“Well I can tell you that he wasn’t in the least interested in boats,” said Mallory. “Go on.”
“Well I asked Lynch about it,” Kendall continued. “He said that Charters had never been there. So I asked Charters.”
Charters nodded. “The truth is that Charters had been to the yard several times, not because he was friends with Lynch,” he said. “Quite the opposite, in fact. No he went to the yard mainly without Lynch’s knowledge.”
“Why?” asked Kendall.
“He was looking for evidence about the drugs,” Mallory explained. “But nothing was ever found. That’s why I never said anything before.”
Kendall nodded. “Oh well, pity you never told me earlier, but no harm done.”
“So what else?” asked Mallory.
“What else,” repeated Kendall. “well there’s what he said about a boat that he saw on the night of the murder.”
“A boat,” repeated Mallory. “What boat?”
“It was very curious,” Kendall continued. “Apparently Lynch had noticed a boat, just about the time of Nadir’s murder. He said that he had never seen it before.”
“So what’s curious about that?” asked Mallory.
“I asked him if he could describe it,” Kendall continued. “He said that he couldn’t, because he hadn’t taken much notice of it.”
Mallory shook his head, and took a drink. “I still don’t see anything curious,” he replied, as he put the empty cup down.
Kendall sighed. “Lynch is a boatman, has been for years. He knows every local boat up and down that coast, and far beyond I’m willing to bet. He has repaired many of them. Many are owned by his rivals, doing the island trips, or the whale watching. Do you not think it odd that he notices a strange boat, one that he has never seen, and yet didn’t take a close look at it? I would have expected someone like him to log every detail, colour, type, size, engine type, even down to what the skipper had for breakfast.” Kendall paused and picked up his cup. He was disappointed to note that it was empty. “Okay I’m kidding about the breakfast, but I stand by everything else.” He looked up and caught the waitress’ eye and indicated more coffee please.
The waitress came over, and placed a fresh pot of coffee on to the table. Kendall poured two cups, and passed one to Mallory. “I’m convinced that Lynch is our murderer,” he said.
Mallory took a drink of the coffee, and nodded. “Brian and I always had our suspicions about him, but there was never any proof. Then came the murder, and Brian was arrested. It all went downhill from there.” He paused and took another drink. “Changing the subject slightly,” he continued. “What did you think about Peterson?”
Kendall sighed, and took a drink. “He told so many lies back there, you couldn’t believe a word he said,” he replied. “If he had told me that he was the Mr. Big, I wouldn’t have believed him.”
Mallory looked surprised. “He didn’t say that did he?”
Kendall smiled, and shook his head. “No he didn’t, and just as well,” he answered. “I’m convinced that Peterson is the main man bringing the drugs in, and Lynch works for him. But getting the proof is still the problem.”
“Well I think you might have enough on Lynch to get his yard searched officially,” suggested Mallory.
Kendall nodded. “I’ll see what Donovan can arrange,” he replied. “In the meantime I just hope that Peterson falls into the trap I’ve set.”
“What trap?” asked Mallory.
“Oh, I just let slip that we had found some of the heroin,” said Kendall.
Mallory shook his head. “He’s not going to fall for that is he,” he said. “He’s too clever. He’ll know that by the time he got there the police would have taken the drugs away, or that it was an obvious trap.” Mallory shook his head again. “No he won’t go anywhere near the drugs.”
“You’re right,” agreed Kendall. “Neither would I. But that’s not the trap.”
Mallory was baffled. “I don’t follow.”
“It’s simple really,” replied Kendall. “He won’t go after the drugs, but I’m guessing that he’ll go after Lynch.”
Mallory was mystified. “Why should he go after Lynch?” he asked. “I just don’t get it.”
Kendall raised one finger. “Let’s think about those packages, shall we,” he started to explain. “Two packages were found in Brian’s house, correct?”
Mallory nodded.
“Who put them there?” Kendall asked.
Mallory though for a few moments.”I don’t know.”
“Well we are agreed that it wasn’t Brian himself, yes.” Mallory nodded. “And it certainly wasn’t the dead man was it. After all they were planted to incriminate Brian. So they had to be planted there by the murderer. Agreed.”
“You mean Lynch,” said Mallory, beginning to understand.
“Now we come to the clever part,” said Kendall. “Peterson knows the drugs will be long gone, but that doesn’t matter. He knows where they were found. And he knows that Nadir wouldn’t have had any knowledge of those caves, but ….”
“Lynch would,” said Mallory.
“Precisely,” said Kendall. “I’m banking on Peterson going after Lynch, and when he does we’ll have our proof.”
Mallory said nothing for a while, puzzled once again. “But I thought that Nadir had been murdered because he was trying to take over.”
Kendall nodded. “That’s what I thought at first,” he agreed. “The truth is that it wasn’t Nadir at all.”
Mallory shook his head. “But I thought that’s why he was murdered.”
“He was murdered to take the heat from
the real person who was going into business for himself,” replied Kendall. “Derren Lynch. Lynch was doing well working for Peterson, but he thought that he could better working for himself. He didn’t need Peterson. He knew where to sell the stuff, and he knew where the suppliers were. All he had to do was show the suppliers that Peterson had lost control. That he could no longer handle the pressure. So first he helps himself to some of the merchandise. Not much, just enough to cause a few ripples. Then he kills Nadir, and Peterson was lead to believe that it was the Turk ripping him off.”
“I still have a problem,” said Mallory.
“Go on,” replied Kendall.
“The drugs found by the boys had been left in that cave for three months. Why so long?”
“I’m guessing that Lynch was waiting for everything to die down,” Kendall replied. “Waiting for the trial, and Charters’ conviction. He was also hoping for Peterson to be removed, and then he would be in the clear. Home free.”
“But Mulligan interfered with his plans,” suggested Mallory.
Kendall heaved a sigh, and shook his head. “Poor Mulligan, he never really knew anything, but he had to be silenced.”
“One last thing,” said Mallory. “What happens if you are wrong?”
Kendall shrugged and smiled. “Then I’m wrong,” he replied, I’ll be on the next plane home.” He picked up his cup, and took a drink. He replaced the empty cup on to the table. “But I’m not wrong, you’ll see. Shall we go?”
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Five
It Was Murder
Kendall and Mollie had just finished breakfast when Moira came into the dining room. “Oh sir, there’s a call for you,” she said. “I think it’s Constable Donovan.” She curtsied and left the room.
Kendall looked at his watch. It was a quarter past ten. He stood up and walked to the hallway. He picked up the handset.
“Kendall,” he said quite simply.
“Mr. Kendall, it’s Donovan,” a voice said.
“Yes, officer what can I do for you?”
