by John Holt
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 dressed 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?
This case was just getting more and more un-predictable. And more and more mystifying. Blackmail that maybe wasn’t blackmail, a murder suspect murdered. Nothing was what it seemed. And I was as much in the dark as I was at the start.
* * *
Jerry’s Bar was fairly busy when I arrived at just after seven. I’d planned on going to the 51 Club later tonight, so when Jerry suggested that I be there between seven and eight that sounded perfect. “I’ll be there,” I said, and hung up.
Jerry saw me as I entered. He gave a wave, and then looked towards the corner booth. He pointed and nodded. I waved back and walked over to the table. “Mr. Chandler?” I asked.
The man looked up at me, and nodded. “Bob, will be just fine,” he replied. “Have a seat.” He pointed. Then he looked over at Jerry, raised his hand and did a circling motion. Jerry nodded.
I sat down. “So Mr. Chandler, Bob, I understand that you were in here a few months ago, this same seat, and just behind me there were two women chatting.” I pointed to the booth behind me.
Chandler nodded. “That murdered woman you mean, and her friend.”
“The very same,” I replied.
“So what’s it to you?” he asked. “And more to the point, what’s in it for me?”
I smiled. There’s always got to be a reason, I thought, an angle. No one does nothing for nobody, for nothing, anymore. There’s always got to be a payoff. Mr. Chandler was no different to thousands of other guys I guess. Perhaps I couldn’t really blame him anyway. Sadly it was the way of the world.
At that moment Jerry arrived with our drinks. “On the house,” he said. I thanked him, and he walked back to the bar. I took a drink. “Jerry told you I was a private detective I guess.”
Chandler nodded, and took a drink.
“In the past few days there have been two murders,” I began. “That woman in the paper, the one who was here, she was the first.” I paused and took another drink. “The second person killed was the husband of the other woman.” I paused again. Chandler said nothing. “We think both murders were connected, and carried out by the same person.”
“Okay I get all that,” Chandler replied, as he drained his glass. “But why you, why not the regular cops.”
I nodded, and looked over at Jerry, and indicated another round. “That’s simple,” I replied. “The murdered woman was my client, she also happened to have been blackmailing the murdered man.”
Jerry walked over with the drinks. “Hope you two are getting along,” he said. “All nice and friendly like.” He smiled, turned and then left.
I looked over at Bob and smiled. “Sure, all nice and friendly,” I said. “So Bob, what do you say?”
“I’m still waiting to hear what’s in it for me?” he replied.
I had to admit that I didn’t know if there was anything in it for him. “You might be in line for a small reward I guess, if your information led to a conviction,” I suggested. “Of course on the other hand it is a felony to withhold relevant information.”
Bob started to rub his chin, weighing up his options.
“Now let’s cut this shall we, and get to the point,” I said. “So what can you tell me?”
“What’s the chance of me getting a reward?” he asked.
I started to laugh. “Oh I don’t know. From very little to absolute zero I’d guess,” I replied. “But just think you’ll be doing your public duty. Come on now.”
He shook his head. “There’s really not that much to tell,” he said “I was sitting here, minding my own business. Checking the race results you know. I had a dead cert in the five o’clock at Hylands, Lady Grey, a nice four to one. They were sitting there, right behind you, just talking.”
“So what were they talking about?” I asked.
He shook his head, and smiled. “Oh just a lot of nonsense at first,” he replied. “Old times you know. Did you remember someone or other, or how about when such and such happened.”
“So they were old friends,” I suggested.
“I guess,” Rob replied. “At least they both went to school together, upstate somewhere, a place called Richmond.” He paused and took a drink. “Then they started talking about different things. It seems that one of them, the murdered woman, had just got out of prison.”
“Prison,” I repeated. “Do you know what she was in for?”
He shook his head. “No, but she was certainly in need of money. The other woman said something about she might be able to help.” He paused and shook his head once again. “I don’t know how.”
“Did you get a name?” I asked.
Chandler nodded. “Oh yeah I got her name,” he replied. “It was Bradley. Susan Bradley.”
“You’re sure it was Bradley,” I said. “Not Brady?”
“It was Bradley,” Chandler repeated.
“So what else?” I asked.
“Then they get to talking about husbands, well at least the other woman does,” Chandler continued. “Seems her husband is playing around, and she wants to teach him a lesson.”
“She said that, her exact words?”
“Yeah, that’s what she said,” Chandler replied. “The
n the other woman says something like suppose I blackmail him, cool as you like.”
“She actually said blackmail?”
“She sure did,” Chandler replied.
“And the other lady what did she say?” I asked. “Did she go along with the idea?”
“Go along with it,” Chandler repeated, and started to laugh. “She actively encouraged it.”
I shook my head and heaved a sigh. “And you never mentioned this to anyone, I mean like the police?” I asked.
Chandler shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, at the time, I figured they weren’t serious,” he replied. “They were just playing around you know, laughing and joking. And then when I heard about the murder. You know the police and me we don’t exactly get on, if you know what I mean.”
I knew what he meant. “So why tell me now?”
Chandler rubbed his chin, and then took a drink. He looked over to the bar. “Jerry said that you were a friend of his,” he replied. “He said that I could trust you.” He paused for a few moments, and then looked back at me. “He also said that there might be something in it for me.”
I smiled. “As I said there might be a small reward, but I can’t guarantee anything.” I picked up my glass and drank the remainder of my scotch. I stood up.
“You’ve been very helpful Mr. Chandler ….”
“Bob, remember.”
“Yes Bob, I remember, by the way, Lady Grey, how did she do?”
He started to laugh. “Seventh out of twelve.”
I smiled. It’s always the same, I thought, the Bob Chandlers of this world never get a break. Nothing ever goes to plan for them. I hoped that maybe, just maybe, there would be a little something in it, just for him.
“I’ll be seeing you.” I waved across to Jerry and walked towards the exit.
* * *
Chapter Fifteen
You Gon' Be Sorry
At last I was getting some answers. And not just more questions. At last things were becoming clearer. It was about time. You know sometimes things just seem so unreal, that even when you know they’re real, you doubt them. Sometimes things are just so fantastic you shake your head, and you reject them. Nah, that couldn’t happen like that. Or I wasn’t expecting that. And things aren’t always what they seem. Have you ever noticed that? Well that’s how it was with this case. From the very first, I was taken in. You would have been as well I’m telling you, so I don’t feel too bad about it. I guess anyone would have been deceived. The whole plan was just so well done.
