A Case Of Murder (Kendall Book 6) (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Quinn’s Store

It had been a busy day, as usual, for Michael Quinn. There had been a major delivery that morning, and he was now checking the delivery notes, and stacking shelves. Young Shamus’ mother had rang earlier. He wouldn’t be in, she was sorry but he wasn’t feeling very well. It was the third time this month, and Quinn was not feeling at his most compassionate, or sympathetic. Sick indeed, he wasn’t sick, he was just too lazy to get out of bed more like. To add further to Quinn’s woes there were several shoppers waiting to be served.

And if that wasn’t enough, standing at the end of the counter was the stranger in town, Kendall, patiently waiting for a lull in the proceedings. Quinn could see him out of the corner of his eye.
What did he want? He certainly wasn’t doing the weekly shop that was certain. So what? Paying a social call, perhaps? Unlikely.

The last thing Quinn needed right then, was an American private detective asking a lot of fool questions about something that happened months ago. What did he know anyway? Nothing. Besides hadn’t he gone through it all with that detective from Cork, whose name he couldn’t remember? What could he add now? Nothing. Anyway didn’t the police already have somebody in custody? They had the murderer and that was that. What more did you need?

He turned away, pretending not to have noticed, and continued to serve his customers.
Maybe he would just give up and go.
Kendall moved away from the counter and began walking along the aisles, stopping occasionally, picking something up, and then placing it back on to the shelf. Quinn looked up trying to see what he was doing.

“Oh, Mr. Quinn, do you have any of that fruit cake I got the other day?” a voice called out.

Quinn looked towards the sound. It was Mrs. Carton. “It’s there, on the shelf,” he called back impatiently. “Right behind you.”

A second voice called out. “Mr. Quinn can you please serve me, I haven’t all day.”

Quinn didn’t need to look, he knew that voice. “Be with you right away Mrs. Murphy.”

He walked over to the checkout, looking along the aisles as he did so. There was no sign of Kendall. Quinn heaved a sigh of relief.
He has given up waiting, and gone, thank goodness.

“Now Mrs. Murphy, let’s see what you have here.” He started to pass the goods past the scanner. As he did so he looked towards the end of the counter. His heart sank, Kendall had returned.

He returned to the scanner. Item after item was passed through. After each one Quinn looked up, Kendall gave a cursory wave. Quinn shook his head, Kendall was not going away any time soon that was certain.

“That comes to thirty five Euros and fourteen cents,” Quinn suddenly announced.

* * *

Twenty minutes later the last of his customers had departed. Quinn intended to get back to the checking, and stacking. “Mr. Quinn,” a voice called out. “Can you spare me a little of your time?”

Quinn looked round. “Oh, Mr. Kendall, it’s good to see you, you should have told me you were here.” He didn’t sound convincing. “How are you?”

Kendall smiled. Clearly Quinn wasn’t too pleased to see him. You didn’t need to be a brain surgeon to work that out. “Oh I’m just fine. Wish the weather would brighten up though.”

Quinn looked puzzled. “It’s raining again,” Kendall explained, pointing back towards the entrance door.

“Ah, you should have been here last week,” said Quinn.

“I know,” replied Kendall. “Wall to wall sunshine from morning till night, I’ve heard.”

“Ah well now I wouldn’t be saying that,” said Quinn. “But it was grand all right. So what can I do for you?”

Kendall walked over to the checkout point. “I can see that you’re a busy man, with lots to do, so I won’t keep you long. I just have a few questions that’s all.”

“Questions,” Quinn repeated. “Questions about what?” As if he didn’t know.

“The body on the beach,” replied Kendall. “Remember him?”

Quinn shook his head, and heaved a sigh. “I thought that was all done and dusted,” he replied. “Hasn’t the Garda charged that English man with the murder?” He paused for a moment thinking hard. “What was his name?”

“Charters, Brian Charters,” replied Kendall.
How come nobody remembered the name,
he wondered?
Perhaps the whole village suffered from amnesia, something in the water maybe.

“That’s the fellow,” said Quinn. “Brian Charters, now I remember.”

“Did you know him?” asked Kendall, already knowing what was to come.

“Who, Charters?” asked Quinn. He shook his head. “Not really. He came in here a few times, for a few groceries, you know, but I never really spoke to him, apart from wishing him a good day, and what can I get you. Kept himself to himself. I think that Anthony Mallory knew him quite well though.”

“What about the other guy,” Kendall continued. “The body on the beach?”

Quinn shook his head once again. “No, I never knew him.”

Kendall sighed. “Nobody seemed to know him, oddly enough,” he said. “Somebody must have known him though, I wonder why they are keeping so quiet.”

“I don’t understand,” Quinn replied. “What makes you say that?”

Kendall took a deep breath. “A couple of reasons I guess,” he replied. “Firstly it’s more than obvious that the murderer knew him. It happens, but it’s quite rare, for someone to murder a complete stranger.”

“Maybe,” replied Quinn trying to sound interested. “But it sounds like a very good reason for people to actually deny knowing the man I would say.”

Kendall started to smile. “An excellent point Mr. Quinn. I never thought of that.”

And the second reason?”

“Ah, yes the second reason,” replied Kendall. “That’s all to do with this place, Killmacud.”

Quinn looked puzzled.

“Killmacud is normally a quiet village, wouldn’t you agree?” Kendall continued. Quinn nodded his agreement.

“Very few people come here do they?” Once again Quinn nodded.

“I mean you don’t get many strangers, like me, do you?”

Quinn nodded a third time. He silently agreed that no they didn’t get many strangers, like Kendall.

“I just don’t think our Abel Nadir would have come here, to Carrick Cove, unless he knew someone here,” Kendall continued. “A friend maybe, or someone he worked for.”

“Hardly a friend,” said Quinn. “I mean if you were visiting a friend wouldn’t you go up to their house. You would hardly meet up with them on the beach, not late in the evening.”

Kendall nodded. “That’s another very good point, Mr. Quinn,” he said. “I’m guessing it was someone he knew through his work then.”

“What kind of work though,” said Quinn. “I mean, I wonder why he was at the cove anyway.”

“A good question,” said Kendall. “At present I don’t know the answer, but I do have some thoughts.” He paused for a moment, wondering whether or not to mention his suspicions. He decided to say nothing. “Anyway, as I said you must be a busy man, so I best get on.”

“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,” replied 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.

* * *