Kendall - Private Detective - Box Set

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Kendall - Private Detective - Box Set Page 22

by John Holt


  He stood up, and came to attention. He smartly brought his right hand up to the side of his temple, and gave a salute. “Hail to the Chief,” he laughed again. “It would be a great pleasure to help you. It would be a privilege, and indeed an honor.” He saluted once again, and sat back down.

  “Really Martin, that is mighty good of you,” Mackenzie replied. “I’ll certainly take you up on your kind offer. I’ll call you, and we’ll fix something up. Thank you once again, most generous.” Mackenzie paused for a few moments. “If only there were more people like you, Martin, the World would be a far better place.”

  “Oh it’s nothing really,” Berry replied, trying to sound modest, but failing badly. He was looking very pleased with himself. He felt good. Was Mackenzie right? Or was he right? The World would definitely be a better place. “Have you heard anything from Ian?” he asked casually. “He must be quite excited I imagine. He’s probably quite busy planning your campaign, who to see, what to say, that kind of thing.”

  Berry looked down at the desk, and swept his hands slowly across the surface. It felt good. Cool, and smooth, gleaming. That’s what he wanted, a polished walnut desk, all shining, and sparkling in the sunlight. He looked up, sensing Mackenzie watching him.

  He coughed nervously, and looked away. “Ian’s good at that kind of thing. I mean, where to go, and when. A hundred and one things, I bet you. I expect he’s on to you a dozen times a day, if not more.”

  Mackenzie fell silent. He hadn’t heard anything from Ian since the day of the Shaw report. And even then they hadn’t had a proper conversation. Subsequently, there had been a string of hand written notes, or emails, but no personal contact. The last real conversation between them had been several days previously. It was the day after the Veterans Hall meeting. That occasion still burned deep into Mackenzie’s brain. He didn’t really want to speak with Duncan, anyway, at least not for a very long time.

  “Oh yes, you know, he’s called a few times. Naturally he is excited. I mean it’s not every day you become a Presidential candidate is it?”

  Berry wasn’t really listening. He glanced around the room. His eyes alighted on a photograph of a group of men, one of whom was holding a large Marlin. “The famous fishing trip,” he murmured

  “I’m sorry,” said Mackenzie. “Did you say something?”

  “I was just daydreaming,” Berry explained. “I was just thinking about that trip to Florida. You know, you, Ian and Frank.”

  He had badly wanted to go along with the others, to be part of the group, but Duncan hadn’t invited him. In fact it was much worse than that. He had actually been told that he could not join them. They did not want him along. He was to stay away.

  He turned back to face Mackenzie. He raised his hand indicating the photograph. “How I had wanted to go along with you guys. Fishing, and drinking. And more drinking.” He started to laugh. “It must have been great fun. Then what happens? I slip on a step, fall down, and break my ankle. It was so stupid of me, careless to say the least. Ten weeks in plaster. Oh well, maybe next time, eh. What do you think?”

  Yes, sure, maybe next time. And maybe there’ll be another air force squadron of pigs fly over. Mackenzie glanced at the photograph. “That would be good, Martin,” he replied. “Let us hope so, eh. I’ll speak to Ian about it when I get a chance. I’m sure we can arrange it. It’ll be something for us to look forward to.” He paused for a few moments. Like going to the dentist, or paying your taxes. “It could be fun.”

  “Oh naturally you will have to bring some of those Secret Service guys with you the next time,” Berry said, laughing once again.

  Mackenzie looked at him. He was absolutely right. He hadn’t thought about it before, but as President he would not be able to go anywhere without the Secret Service. “Right you are, Martin,” he said. “The fishing boat will be a little crowded, but we can’t forget them, not this time.”

  “Absolutely not,” Berry replied. He looked back at the photograph. “Oh, and let’s not forget Frank,” he added enthusiastically.

  “Couldn’t forget Frank, could we?” Mackenzie replied. There was then silence once again. Mackenzie sat impassively, looking at Berry, wondering exactly what it was that he wanted. Why was he here? It wasn’t to offer help with the campaign, that much was certain. And it wasn’t a simple social call. So why had he come? Was he just trying to win favor? Mackenzie shook his head. It wasn’t just that either. There was something more.

  Berry said nothing, gently tapping his fingers on the desk, and then slowly rubbing his hands over the desk surface. Mackenzie glanced at his watch. Ten minutes had elapsed. Ten minutes only, it seemed like hours. He shook his watch to make sure that it was working. It was.

  “Is anything wrong?” Berry asked, as he saw Mackenzie’s left arm moving. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  “Oh no, there’s nothing wrong,” Mackenzie quickly replied. “A slight cramp in the elbow, that’s all. I get it occasionally.” He started to rub the elbow vigorously. “There that’s better already. It’s something to do with age I expect.”

  “Poor circulation more likely,” Berry commented, trying to sound as though he knew what he was talking about. “It affects the joints you know. It could cause inflammation. I get it in the knee sometimes. You should try one of those homeopathy treatments. I do, and they seem to work. I’ll get you some details.” He paused momentarily, waiting for a reaction. Mackenzie said nothing, but waited expectantly. “Of course you can always look it up on the Internet.” Then silence fell once more.

  The silence was broken by a tap on the door. “Come in,” Mackenzie called out. The door opened. It was Martha with the coffee. She placed the tray on to the desk, and then headed back towards the door. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked as she stood by the doorway.

  “No there is nothing else, thank you,” Mackenzie said. He looked towards Berry. Berry was looking at the photograph again. Mackenzie turned back to face Martha. He stared at her for a few moments, trying to remind her of his instructions, mouthing the words “Don’t forget.” She had not forgotten. “That’s all thank you,” he said. “I don’t want to be disturbed.” He winked his eye. She opened the door, and quickly left the room.

  Berry heard the door close, and turned around. “Ah, coffee, at last,” he said. “I was beginning to wonder if we were ever going to get any.” He laughed, and made his way back to the desk. “If she were my secretary, John, she’d get a good talking to.” He laughed once again.

  “You’re right once again, Martin,” Mackenzie replied. “I’ll get right on that the minute you’ve gone. Truth of the matter, Martin, we had actually run out of coffee. My fault, I forgot to tell her, hardly what you would expect from the most powerful man in the world.”

  Berry started to laugh loudly. “Just as well we didn’t need to involve the United Nations. There could have been an International incident,” he said. “Anyway we have some coffee now, no harm done, Brazil’s economy is safe once again.”

  “Absolutely,” Mackenzie replied, as he picked up one of the cups, and passed it towards Berry. “By the way how are Duncan’s plans progressing?” he asked casually, changing the subject completely. “Up at Rosemont I mean. Have the offer letters gone out yet?”

  Berry had not expected that, and was caught off guard for a moment. Surely Mackenzie knew that already. Duncan would have kept him informed. Why the need to ask. He must know as much as me. In fact he should know a whole lot more than me. “Yes, yes they have, I think,” he stammered. “I believe that two letters have been sent so far. The last one went out a few days ago.”

  Mackenzie was surprised. Two letters had been sent. Nobody had told him. He looked over to the clock on the mantle shelf. Still another twelve minutes to go. He turned back to face Berry. “Two. I hadn’t realized that,” he replied casually. He laughed. “It would be just like old Ian not to bother me with all of that trivial stuff. Keeping it all to himself, he probably thinks I’m far
too busy.” Berry said nothing. “He’s actually right, of course,” Mackenzie continued. He paused momentarily. “And how many people have actually accepted the offer?”

  “Only three definite so far, I think,” Berry replied. He looked back at Mackenzie. “It’s not that many is it? I mean three out of I don’t know how many, but quite a lot I’m sure.” He stopped and thought for a few moments. He could not remember exactly how many people had been contacted. It wasn’t important, he decided.

  “Things are not really going to plan. I understand that Duncan seems to think we will have to get a little bit tougher. We need to get some kind of action going, to get things moving along. It’s all taking far too long, and Ian wants to get on.”

  Mackenzie looked shocked. “Get a bit tougher, what do you mean by that, Martin?” he asked.

  “Oh I don’t know. It was Ian who said it,” Berry replied dismissively. “Not my department I’m glad to say. I suppose he means no more Mr. Nice Guy. No more playing around. How should I know? Be a bit more persuasive, perhaps, a little more forceful.”

  “All this talk about getting tougher,” Mackenzie said. “It sounds as though someone could get hurt.”

  Berry looked surprised, and started to laugh. “Nobody will get hurt,” he replied. “The things you think of John.” Then he suddenly remembered something. “Although there was a fire recently, a barn I think. But that was a pure accident, nothing more. Something to do with faulty wiring I think. It was most unfortunate. Apparently it burnt down completely.” He stopped, and then looked directly at Mackenzie. “Nobody got hurt, though,” he said, perhaps a little too smugly.

  Berry’s gaze returned to the photograph for a moment or two. He stood up and started to pace up and down. Suddenly he was nervous, agitated. He was surprised that Mackenzie was asking all of these questions. He hadn’t known any of these details. That was certainly strange. He should have known. Berry wondered if maybe he was being tested in some way, although he could not imagine how. He wondered if he shouldn’t have mentioned them at all. It was odd that Duncan hadn’t said anything. Maybe Duncan hadn’t wanted him to know. Maybe he didn’t want to bother him, after all it was pretty mundane stuff wasn’t it, and Mackenzie did have rather a lot of other things to worry about. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything. Perhaps he should have kept quiet, and just pretended that he didn’t know anything, and left it at that. It was a little too late now the damage had already been done.

  Mackenzie was worried. He didn’t want any trouble. He knew how Duncan could be. He knew precisely what get tougher meant. He had witnessed Duncan’s bullying methods at first hand. He could still remember the two visitors back in college. Making threatening noises. Getting tough, and pushing him around. Was it happening again?

  What had Berry said about that barn? It was an accident, something to do with faulty wiring. Was it an accident, Mackenzie wondered, or something more? That was the last thing he needed. He was a candidate for the position of President of the United States, the Commander in Chief. Without a doubt, the most powerful position in the country, probably the most powerful position in the world. He couldn’t afford anything that was questionable in any way. Nothing was to jeopardize his goal. He started to write something on to a note pad.

  Berry continued pacing up and down. As he reached the far wall he casually glanced at the calendar. Obviously Mackenzie liked dogs he thought, as he noticed the picture of the Border Collie depicting the current month. He turned the page, to show the next month, a Golden Labrador. He flipped to the next, a German Shepherd. He preferred cats himself. They were less trouble, more independent. You didn’t have to worry about them too much, or take them for walks. He let the pages drop back down. He turned around and walked back, closer to the desk. As he drew nearer he noticed what Mackenzie was doing.

  “What are you up to John?” he asked, with some concern. “What are you writing, your memoirs?”

  Mackenzie felt a sudden chill. That was what Duncan had said a few days previously. It had sounded almost threatening. “Oh, it’s nothing that should worry you, Martin,” he replied, trying to sound unconcerned. “I’m just making some notes that’s all.”

  “Notes,” Berry repeated. “What do you mean notes?”

  “Oh it’s not that important, not really. It’s just something that I suddenly remembered,” Mackenzie replied nonchalantly. “I keep notes about most things you know. I can’t always rely on my memory. I just have to write things down if I suddenly think of something.” He quickly finished writing. “There, all finished,” he said, as he hurriedly placed the document inside the top drawer of the desk.

  Berry watched as Mackenzie locked the drawer, and placed the key inside his pocket. “Oh I see,” he said, not really seeing at all. “I sometimes have problems with my memory as well. Getting old I suppose. You should try this new idea I heard about recently. What is it now?” He paused for a moment trying to think what it was called. Suddenly it came to him. “Word association, that’s it.” He laughed. “I almost forgot, funny that, forgetting how to remember.” Mackenzie missed the joke.

  “Word association,” Berry continued. “You know, you associate an event, or a place, or a person, with a word, or something, I think that’s right. Then all you have to do is remember the word.” He said, uncertain. “Something like that anyway, I didn’t really understand it. It was on the television the other day. One of the Discovery channels I think.”

  He stopped for a moment. It hadn’t made much sense to him, and he was trying to get his facts right. “I don’t know though. I’m not convinced that it would work. It all sounds crazy to me. I mean if you can’t remember the event, or the place, how are you going to remember the word? I mean now you have two things to remember, instead of just one. Now you have to remember the word, then you have to remember the thing that word is associated with.” He paused once again. It was just plain stupid. “Before you only had the thing to remember,” he continued. “I don’t know where they get their ideas from. These experts, what do they know?”

  Berry paused for a moment still thinking about the notepad. “I hope that you’re not putting anything down that you shouldn’t,” he said, pointing to the drawer. “You know, about Rosemont, and, and things like that.”

  “I put everything down, Martin, even our meeting today,” Mackenzie replied, as he checked that the drawer was securely locked. “You never know when you might need it.”

  “You must be mad” Berry replied, unable to believe what he was hearing. “Does Duncan know about this? I mean I don’t think that he would like it, do you?”

  “No, of course he doesn’t know about it,” Mackenzie replied. “It’s not a problem though, Martin. Don’t worry about it. Duncan wouldn’t mind, I’m sure of that. The notes are perfectly safe, in a secure place. You saw me lock them away didn’t you?”

  Berry was not convinced, but he did not pursue it further. He wasn’t going to say anything, especially to Duncan. He did however vow to be more careful of what he actually said in front of Mackenzie, in the future.

  Suddenly there was a buzz on the intercom. Mackenzie looked at his watch. Thirty minutes exactly. “Yes Martha,” he answered. “What is it? You know I didn’t want to be disturbed.”

  “I’m just reminding you of your appointment, sir,” she replied. “You know the one down town?”

  “My appointment?” he said puzzled. He looked at Berry, and raised his eyes. “Oh yes, of course. Thank you. I had forgotten all about it.” He replaced the handset on to the cradle, and turned to face Berry. “I’m really sorry about this, Martin. I really have to go, and now. I’d forgotten all about it,” he said, trying to sound disappointed. “It’s a shame because I was really enjoying our little conversation. I’ll certainly look up the homeopathy thing on the net.” He started to laugh. “And that word association idea, very interesting. I must give it a try.”

  Berry finished his coffee, and stood up ready to leave. Mackenzie stood up and, p
lacing his hand on Berry’s back, he walked him to the door. “I’m sorry to rush you like this,” he said. “We really must do this again sometime. I’ll call you.” He opened the door, and Berry left the room.

  * * *

  Martin Berry came out of the building, and turned to his left. He walked across the street and stopped at the corner. He turned to face Mackenzie’s office. It was an ideal spot giving a good view of both the front and the side entrance. He was waiting for Mackenzie to leave. He wanted to know where he was going, and who he was going to see. To be strictly accurate, it was Duncan who wanted to know these things. It was his task to get the information.

  What was this important appointment? As far as Berry could remember there had been no mention of anything on the wall calendar. He tried to recollect what he had seen. He remembered the picture of the dog certainly, but nothing more. He could not actually remember the breed. He was, however, certain, that there were no appointments mentioned for the day.

  Ten minutes went by. There was no sign of Mackenzie. There was a distant rumble of thunder. Berry looked up at the sky. It was beginning to cloud over. There was another rumble of thunder. Twenty minutes went by. There was still no sign of Mackenzie. Had he missed him, Berry wondered. No, he would certainly have seen him. Perhaps he had left by the back exit. Berry shook his head. It was most unlikely. The vehicular exit was there at the side. He glanced down the side street. As far as he could see the gate was firmly closed.

  There was another clap of thunder, much louder and much closer this time. Then there was a flash of lightning. The sky became quite dark, and the rain began, gradually getting heavier and heavier. Berry pulled his coat collar up around his neck.

  Thirty minutes passed. Mackenzie was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps the appointment had been at the office. Then he remembered what Mackenzie had said, “I have to go.” No the appointment was out somewhere. Berry didn’t know how, but somehow he had missed Mackenzie. He must have taken the back exit. Duncan would not be pleased. Not pleased at all. He gave one last look at the house. Well I just won’t tell him, Berry decided.

 

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