A Case Of Murder (Kendall Book 6) (5 page)

* * *

Chapter Six

Drinks All Round

“Drinks all round,” repeated Quinn. “Now that’s mighty civil of you, sir, mighty civil indeed.” He looked at O’Rourke and nodded.

“’Tis indeed,” said O’Rourke as he busied himself pouring out the drinks. “Now sir, seeing as it’s you that is buying the drinks, I think that it’s only fair that you should know who you are drinking with.”

Kendall smiled and looked around him.

“Now, Mr. Quinn, our storekeeper just there, you’ve already met,” O’Rourke continued, as he pointed to the man standing next to Kendall. “And you know our English friend, Mr. Mallory over there at the end of the bar.” Mallory smiled and waved. Kendall waved back. “And then we have our local builder, Vincent Mulvy, who you’ve also met.”

Kendall turned and faced Mulvy. He smiled and nodded his head.
He tapped the business card tucked inside his coat pocket. No job too small,
he murmured.
You never know when you might need a builder.

“Then there’s Daniel Brendan Martin Mulligan, the third, who’ve you have already had the acquaintance,” O’Rourke continued.

Kendall looked over to the table in the corner. There was Mulligan oblivious to all around him, contentedly sipping on his drink.

O’Rourke gave a sigh. “So now who else is there?” he looked around. “Ah, to be sure there’s Derren.” He looked over and waved. “Derren Lynch, he runs the local boatyard, so he does. You need a boat repair and he’ll do it.”

Kendall looked over in the direction indicated, not exactly sure whether he would ever need to have a boat repaired or not.
But you never know do you?
A young man with a mop of ginger hair, and a short beard waved back.

“Should you be wanting to go out fishing, then I’m yer man,” he said.

Kendall nodded.
More advertising,
he thought,
would it ever stop
. The idea of going out fishing was not uppermost in his mind. In fact it was probably the very last activity he could think of.

“I’ll think about it,” he replied, smiling. “And I’ll certainly be sure to let you know.”

“So, Mr. Kendall,” a voice said. It was the Englishman, who now sat at the bar, next to Kendall. “Here on holiday then are you?” he asked.

“Well yes, and no,” Kendall replied. “I’m actually here in connection with Brian Charters.”

“Brian Charters,” said the Englishman, surprised. “The man who has been charged with that murder of the man on the beach, a few months back.”

Kendall shook his head. “Well now, there’s the thing you see. His cousin isn’t actually convinced that Brian did commit the murder,” Kendall said. “He actually sent me over to check a few ….”

“He did it right enough,” said O’Rourke, as he moved closer to Kendall. “There’s no doubting that. It’s as plain as the nose on your face. Just you take my word for it.”

“Well maybe you’re right,” said Kendall, taking a drink.

“So do you know him then?” asked Lynch.

Kendall shook his head. “I’ve never met him in my life,” he replied. “I don’t even know what he looks like. I just know his cousin, and I’ve been asked to look into it and see what I can find out. So here we are.”

“And what makes you think you’ll find anything different to our local police?” asked Quinn.

Kendall smiled and shook his head. “I don’t know that I will, maybe I won’t,” he replied. “I might end up agreeing with them, who knows.”

“If I were you I’d be forgetting all about it. Just accept it, it’s over and done with,” Quinn continued. “You should just be having yourself a nice little holiday. It’s beautiful countryside here abouts. Perhaps take a trip to Cork, or maybe up the coast to Killarney, or Galway.”

“That’s right,” added Lynch. “Get some fishing maybe, and I’m sure that the little Missy there would like to see our shops in Cork.”

Kendall looked at Mollie.
Little Missy, indeed! She’s going to love that.
She smiled but said nothing, much to Kendall’s surprise, she simply took a deep breath, and nodded. Kendall turned back to face Lynch. “Could be that you’re right,” he said. “But I really need to make a few enquiries, you know, I did promise his cousin.”

“Well now, I’m doubting that you’ll be finding out very much ....” O’Rourke began to say when he was interrupted by the noise of the entrance door opening.

He looked up as two men entered.
Clearly it was still raining and, by the look of it, raining quite heavy. They looked over at O’Rourke, and moved to a corner table. They said nothing, but O’Rourke gave a slight nod of the head in recognition. “I’ll be with you gentlemen without delay,” he called out.

Kendall looked over at the two men. “More locals?” he asked pointing over to the corner.

O’Rourke shook his head. “Oh, no one important, just a couple of fishermen that’s all,” he explained. “They’re based in Kinsale, just a few miles south of here. They come here occasionally.”

Kendall nodded, but it seemed very odd that they didn’t go to one of the local inns in Kinsale, it was more than likely that one existed.
Many more than one in fact.
Kendall thought as he looked back at the men.
Perhaps they just preferred this bar,
he thought. It was quite possible.
Maybe they had been barred from the locals. It really wasn’t anything to do with him anyway.

“Are they having a drink?” he asked. “On me I mean.”

“Ah now, there’s no need for that, Mr. Kendall, though I’m thinking that’s mighty generous of you,” O’Rourke replied. “They’ll be getting a drink all right, and no mistake, but you’ve no need to concern yourself. I’ll be seeing to this.”

With that O’Rourke poured two large whiskies, dropped in some ice cubes, placed the glasses on to a tray and went over to where the two men were seated. He placed the glasses on to the table in front of them. He bent down and said something to the elder of the two men. The man looked over at Kendall, and simply nodded, and then O’Rourke returned to the bar.

“Seems like they’ve been out around the cove,” O’Rourke explained. “They just thought they’d drop in for a quick one before heading home. Warm them up a little I guess.”

Kendall nodded, and checked his watch. It was just after seven.
Out around the cove,
he thought.
Fishing, in this weather, this time of day.
It didn’t make sense. Something wasn’t quite what it should be, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Any further speculation was disturbed by the sound of a bar-stool scrapping the floor close by.

“You’re a police man then?” said the young man as he seated himself next to Kendall. “The name’s Lynch,” the man continued. “Derren Lynch. The boatyard remember?”

Kendall nodded. “Yes, Mr. Lynch, of course I remember you. I was miles away I’m afraid,” he replied. “You offered to take me out fishing.”

Lynch smiled. “That’s right,” he replied. “Any time you want to go, just give me a shout. I’d be pleased to take you out, might even do some whale watching.”

“I’ll give it some thought,” replied Kendall. “Now, what was it you just said?”

“I asked if you were a police man,” Lynch asked once again. “I mean, you investigating the murder and everything, it just seemed to me that you must be a lawman of some kind.”

Kendall shook his head. “Oh I see. No, I’m not a police man,” he replied. “I used to be, but that was some years ago now.”

“Don’t like the police,” came an announcement from Mulligan.

“You say that you used to be with the police?” said Lynch.

“That’s right,” replied Kendall. “I was with the NYPD – the New York Police Department - for ten years. Detective Second Class.” He paused and smiled at the memory. He could never make that break to detective First Class. Too laid back they said. He looked at Lynch, “Now I’m a private detective.”

“Don’t like private detectives,” Mulligan called out loudly.

“Remember what they said about Mulligan,” said Lynch, pointing towards the old man. “Don’t take any notice.”

“I remember,” replied Kendall, as he took a drink. “Does he actually like anything or anyone?”

Lynch shook his head, and smiled. “Not much I’m afraid. A drop of the hard stuff maybe,” he replied. “So you were saying why you were here.”

Kendall was about to answer when he was interrupted by a sudden noise behind him. He turned to see the two fishermen leaving. “Your friends are leaving,” he said to O’Rourke.

“My friends?” O’Rourke replied, puzzled.

“The two men you were talking to earlier,” Kendall explained. “Not very sociable are they?”

O’Rourke looked over to the door just as the two men were leaving. He gave a cursory wave. “Oh those two. I think they’re a wee bit shy, what with you being here and all” he said. “Not good with strangers that’s all. It’s not a problem.”

Kendall looked at the door as it slowly closed, and smiled. He was far from convinced that was indeed all there was to it, besides, as far as he could see, they hadn’t actually paid for their drinks.

“So you’re here to investigate the murder then?” said Lynch.

“That’s right,” replied Kendall. “Or to be more accurate, I’m here to investigate what Mr. Charters’ involvement was, if any.”

“If any,” O’Rourke repeated. “Now what kind of fool comment is that? Of course he’s involved, he’s the murderer, what more do yer want?”

Kendall shook his head and took a drink. “Maybe, maybe not,” he replied.

“So you don’t think Mr. Charters is guilty then?” said Lynch.

Kendall thought for a few moments. “I never actually said that.”

“No you didn’t,” Lynch agreed. “So what do you think?”

“To be absolutely honest, Mr. Lynch ….” Kendall started to reply.

“Call me, Derren,” the young man interrupted. “And I’d be glad to show you my boat yard any time you care to say. And you Miss ....”

“Adams,” Mollie replied. “It’s Brenda Adams, but my friends call me Mollie.”

“Right you are Mollie,” said Lynch. “I’d be more than pleased if you called on me.” He turned back to face Kendall. “You were saying, Mr. Kendall, before I rudely interrupted you.”

Kendall took a drink, and smiled. “I was saying that to be perfectly honest with you, I don’t know if Mr. Charters is guilty or innocent,” he explained. “That’s the reason why I’m here, to investigate.”

“He’s guilty I tell you, Mr. Kendall,” O’Rourke advised. “There’s really no need to waste your time any further. As yer man, Patrick, over there said, you should just forget all about it, and enjoy a little holiday.”

“Well you might be right. You probably are, but seeing that I’m here I might as well give it a shot. I did promise remember,” said Kendall, draining his glass. “A few questions here and there can’t do any harm.”

“I’m not so sure about that Mr. Kendall,” said O’Rourke. “People don’t like strangers asking a lot of questions, especially if the questions have already been asked, and the answers already given.”

“What do you mean?” Kendall asked.

“Simple, Mr. Kendall,” replied O’Rourke. “The murder took place, when, a few months ago now.”

“It was actually three months,” Mallory added helpfully.

“There you are,” O’Rourke continued. “Three months ago. The local police investigated thoroughly, and the evidence clearly showed that Charters is guilty, there’s no doubt about it. He did it all right, and no mistake.”

Kendall shook his head, and sighed. “Well, I’d still like to see what I can find out, if that’s okay.”

“It’s a waste of time,” repeated O’Rourke.

“Well it’s my time,” Kendall said. “So can anyone tell me what actually happened, up on the beach I mean?”

There was no response.

“I did warn you,” O’Rourke said as he started to clean the bar. “Anyway, you’ll be wanting to wash up before dinner I’ll be thinking.”

“Oh yes, that’s a good idea,” said Mollie, sounding relieved.

Kendall looked at Mollie and nodded. If truth be known he felt exactly the same. “Yes, that’s a good idea alright.”

“Your rooms are at the top of the stairs, to the right, at the end of the corridor,” said O’Rourke as he placed two keys on to the counter. “Room two is yours Miss Adams, and number four is Mr. Kendall’s. Dinner is at eight.”

* * *

Chapter Seven

Something To Hide

“So what did you think of that?” Kendall asked Mollie, as they made their way up the stairs, and to their rooms. “That was a bit abrupt, wasn’t it?”

Mollie nodded. “More than a bit,” she agreed. “I felt like I’d just been dismissed by my teacher Miss Taylor, back in fifth grade.”

Kendall shook his head. “I can’t believe it,” he said. “I mean O’Rourke was so definite that Charters was guilty. What did he say, something about me wasting my time, and I shouldn’t bother.”

Mollie shrugged. “Well maybe he’s right,” she said. “I mean after all he was here when it happened.”

“So he was here, I agree,” Kendall replied. “Does that mean I just take his word for it? Pack up and go home?”

Mollie knew Kendall, and there was no way that he would just take anybody’s word for anything. Oh no he needed to be convinced in ten different ways, and even then he would want everything re-checked, and double checked.

“Well you have to admit that the murder was investigated by the police. They got the evidence, and they’ve charged Charters with the murder,” Mollie continued. “They must know what they’re doing, mustn’t they?”

Kendall wasn’t convinced. “Well, I have to say that it has been known for the police to be wrong occasionally, you know,” he suggested.

“Maybe,” agreed Mollie. “But there’s no smoke without fire.”

Kendall shrugged. “Perhaps,” he grudgingly agreed. “But I still say those people in the bar were acting mighty odd.”

“What do you mean?” asked Mollie.

Kendall heaved a sigh. “Well, as I said just now, they seem very eager for us just to forget all about it, don’t they?”

Mollie nodded. “That’s right,” she replied. “Forget it and just take a holiday, that’s what O’Rourke suggested. And that other guy, whose name I can’t remember, he said exactly the same thing.”

“You’re talking about Quinn, the storekeeper,” said Kendall. “Patrick Quinn.”

Mollie nodded. “That’s the one. Just do some sight-seeing, he said. It’s beautiful round here. Or perhaps do some fishing or something.”

“And don’t forget the suggestion from Lynch. Remember shopping in Cork,” added Kendall.

“How about that guy?” said Mollie. “All that he cares about is his boatyard.”

Kendall nodded. “That’s right. And if he offers to take us out in his wretched boat just once more, I’ll personally put a hole in it and sink it,” he added. “You wouldn’t get me on his boat in a thousand years. I’m telling you, if I want fish I’ll go to the market.”

Mollie started to laugh. “And how about that Little Missy comment he came out with?” she said.

Kendall started to laugh. “I couldn’t believe you just sat there and took it, and said nothing.”

“Well I’m certainly not going on his boat, that’s for sure,” replied Mollie.

“Nor me,” agreed Kendall. “And another thing. They had nothing to say did they? None of them. I asked a simple question, what happened at the beach that day, and no one said anything. It was almost as though they had something to hide.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous,” said Mollie. “I agree that they’re odd, but what on earth would they have to hide?”

“If I knew that, we could wrap this whole thing up and go home,” said Kendall. “But there’s something not quite right, I’m certain of that.”

“You’re just imagining things,” said Mollie. “Remember this is a small village. Perhaps they’re just not used to outsiders poking their nose around asking questions.”

“Yes it is a small village,” Kendall agreed. “But because it is such a small place, you would think that having a murder so close to home, would be a conversation piece for months, and months. I just would have expected them to show a bit more interest.”

“They are probably just being cautious, that’s all,” suggested Mollie.

Kendall reluctantly had to admit that there could be something in what Mollie had said. Nonetheless he wasn’t entirely convinced.

“But what about those two fishermen, or whatever they were?” Kendall continued. “If they were fishermen, then I’m the British Prime Minister.”

“Perish the thought,” said Mollie.

“And who would be out fishing in that weather?” Kendall continued.

“Perhaps it wasn’t raining when they started,” Mollie suggested.

“Well they were hardly friendly were they?” Kendall continued.

“Well, Mr. O’Rourke did say that they didn’t like strangers, didn’t he,” said Mollie.

Kendall nodded. “You might be right,” he said. “But I wonder what they were talking about with O’Rourke.”

Mollie started to smile. “Us maybe.”

Kendall nodded. Certainly the guy had looked over. “Could be,” he agreed.

“What did you think of that old guy, Mulligan?” asked Mollie. “Don’t like Americans, don’t like the police.”

“He didn’t like anything, did he?” said Kendall. “Except maybe a drop or two of whiskey.”

“I guess he was harmless enough though,” added Mollie. “Just a little odd that’s all.”

Kendall shook his head. “A little odd did you say? A little round the bend you mean,” he said. “One fine day he’ll come to a bad end I’m telling you. Mark my words.”

“Oh I guess he’s harmless enough. Nutty as a fruit cake but harmless. He doesn’t really bother me,” said Mollie. “But it’s that English guy that gets me.”

“Mallory you mean?”

“That’s the guy,” replied Mollie. “He spoke a lot didn’t he, but he said very little.”

“I know what you mean,” replied Kendall. “I don’t know what to think. I mean I know that the British are a bit reserved, and don’t like to push themselves forward, but that guy was so laid back. Friendly enough, but he just seemed so false to me.”

“Well, I guess its early days yet,” said Mollie. “Maybe we’re judging them a bit too soon.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” agreed Kendall. “But someone in that bar knows something, and I intend to find out what it is.”

“I wonder if the guy that worked with Charters, was down there, at the bar,” said Mollie.

Kendall took a deep breath. “I’m guessing that he was,” he replied. “After all in a small place like this it’s likely that everyone knows everyone else, he would certainly be there. You can bet on it.”

Mollie smiled. “Perhaps he doesn’t drink,” she suggested.

“Maybe he doesn’t,” Kendall replied. “But what about it?”

“Well, if he doesn’t drink, he would hardly go to the local inn would he?” Mollie continued.

Kendall shook his head. “You could be right, I suppose,” replied Kendall. “Even so, there’s so little to do in this place, I’m willing to bet he’d be here. Besides, maybe he could have a soft drink, a coke or something. And if he knew that we were coming, and why, he’d certainly be there. He’d be curious, wouldn’t he? I’m guessing that he’ll be here later as well.”

“We’ll see after dinner,” Mollie suggested.

“The only thing is we don’t know who he, or she is do we?” said Kendall.

“So how do we go about finding out?” asked Mollie.

“First thing to remember is that the person, whoever it is, knows who we are, and why we are here,” Kendall explained. “So it’s possible that they will make the first move.”

Mollie shook her head. “Suppose they don’t, then what?”

Kendall shrugged. “We keep our eyes and ears open,” he replied. “Perhaps we’ll hear, or see, something that gives a hint, a clue. And we ask questions, at the right time, and see what answers we get.”

“What do you mean the right time?” Mollie asked.

“That’s a difficult question,” Kendall replied. “You have to judge how the conversation is going, where it is headed. There might just be an opening. You know.”

Mollie was still unsure, but guessed that she would be getting no more guidance on the subject. “Have you any thoughts who it might be?” she asked.

Kendall smiled and shook his head. “It’s too early to say, but let’s see what happens shall we.”

“What about that English guy?” asked Mollie.

“Mallory you mean?” said Kendall. “Could be, but it could be any one of them.”

“Except Mulligan,” suggested Mollie.

Kendall smiled, “Oh no, it’s certainly not Mulligan,” he agreed.

“Well here we are,” said Mollie, as she stopped at her room. “This is me.”

“Right,” said Kendall looking along the corridor. “That’s me over there.” He looked at his watch. “It’s just twenty minutes to seven. Dinner’s at eight.” He started to walk away. “I’ll see you in the dining room about ten to.”

Mollie nodded, and went into her room.

* * *

Kendall slowly closed the door, and heaved a sigh. More and more he wondered just what he was doing in Killmacud, anyway. Perhaps he was wasting his time, just like O’Rourke had said. Perhaps Charters was guilty as charged. It was certainly possible, the evidence certainly pointed in that direction. It was three months ago, so how was he supposed to find out something that the police had missed.
It’s not likely, is it Kendall,
he murmured.

He walked to the window, pulled back the curtain, and looked out. The rain was heavier than ever, and looked set for the remainder of the day. All in all the trip was turning into something of a disaster. Everything seemed to be against them. The weather, the hotel, which was nothing to write home about, and as for the locals…. Well what could you say about them? Clearly he wasn’t welcome was he? Oh they were friendly enough, but they didn’t appreciate some stranger in their midst, asking a lot of fool questions.

Perhaps they should just pack up their things and leave. There seemed little point in staying. Kendall heaved a sigh and shook his head. He turned from the window.
I better give Whittaker a call and tell him,
he thought as he walked back to where the telephone was situated.
He won’t be happy, but then why should he be, but it can’t be helped.

He picked up the handset. “Oh, yes, could I have an outside line?” he asked. There were a few noisy clicks on the line, and then he heard the dialling tone. He hesitated for a moment. What exactly was he going to say anyway?
Sorry, Chief Inspector it’s hopeless. Just forget all about it. He’s guilty, just get over it.
In essence that was exactly what he had to say, although maybe there was a better way of saying it, a more tactful way.

He started to dial the number, when there was a knock on the door.
Mollie,
he thought. He replaced the handset on to the cradle, stood up and walked to the door. He opened it. It was the young boy, Kieron.

“I’ve brought up your bags, sir,” he said, touching the right side of his head, and smiling. “Where shall I leave them?”

Kendall stood back, allowing the boy to enter the room. “Oh, anywhere will do,” he said pointing over to the corner of the room.

The boy moved to the corner and placed the bags on the floor. He then turned and walked back towards the door. He suddenly stopped. “You’re here about that Mr. Charters aren’t you?” he said. “I liked him.”

Kendall looked at the boy for a few moments. “Did you know him then” he asked.

The boy nodded, shuffling his feet nervously. “I used to see him down at the Cove walking his dog.”

“Katy?”

The boy nodded. “That’s right,” he said. “How did you know?”

Kendall smiled. “Do you know if he had any friends, I mean anyone special,” he asked.

The boy smiled. “He was my friend,” he replied proudly.

Kendall nodded. “I’m sure he was, but was there anyone else? I mean did he seem to spend more time with anyone in particular?”

The boy thought for a few moments. “Mr. Lynch I guess,” he eventually replied. “Mr. Charters was always down at his boatyard.”

Why would he spend so much time with Lynch?
Kendall wondered. He made a mental note to ask Lynch about it. “Do you know why?” he asked Keiron.

The boy shook his head. “Dunno,” he replied quite simply.

Kendall sighed. To be honest he hadn’t really expected anything different, but it still came as a disappointment. “Was there anyone else?”

“Maybe, Mr. Mallory, you know the English gentleman,” the boy answered. “I suppose both being English you know, they would stick together.”

Kendall nodded, he wasn’t at all surprised. It made perfect sense he thought, Brits were shy, and reserved. They tended to stick together, so he could understand Charters and Mallory being friends. But Kendall had to admit that Derren Lynch was the last person he would choose to spend time with. So he just couldn’t imagine Charters being friends with Lynch. So why would Charters spend so much time at Lynch’s boatyard.

Lynch?
Kendall murmured.
Is it possible that Derren Lynch was working with Charters? The associate that Whittaker had mentioned.
Kendall shook his head. He could hardly believe it. But it did make sense. According to Keiron, Charters spent a lot of time at Lynch’s boatyard.
They were probably discussing things, and comparing notes.