Kendall - Private Detective - Box Set by John Holt

Author:John Holt [Holt, John]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Phoenix
Published: 2013-11-19T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Two Steps Forward Three Back

“The police pulled a body out of the Atlantic, on the North beach, earlier today. It has just been identified as Frank Russell,” he replied. “He’s dead.” Kendall walked over to the television set, and turned the volume up. The news item had already changed, and now related to talks about a steel workers strike. Kendall bent down and switched the set off. He slowly walked back to his desk. He was shaking his head. He reached for the telephone and dialed a number.

* * *

“Homicide,” a voice replied a few minutes later. “Detective Devaney speaking.”

“What’s this about Russell?” Kendall asked.

“Kendall, is that you?” said Devaney. “What happened to the niceties?”

“Yes it’s me, and hello, how are you?” said Kendall. “Now what about Russell?”

“Frank Russell?”

“Yes, Frank Russell,” Kendall repeated. “The guy washed up on North Beach.”

“I know who you mean. What’s your interest in him?”

“He came to see me the other day, you know. It was about Carl Simmonds,” said Kendall.

“You told me that before, remember,” said Devaney. “And that’s it. He came to see you, and that’s all?”

“For the time being, that’s all,” Kendall replied. “Now come on what can you tell me about him.”

Devaney started to laugh. “You tell me nothing, but I’m supposed to tell you everything, including what he ate for breakfast, is that it?” Kendall said nothing. “All right Kendall, all right. I’ll tell you, only because I feel sorry for you, and you can’t manage without us.”

Kendall started to laugh. “Fair enough,” he replied. “Now what can you tell me?”

Devaney took out his notepad and started to read. “He was seen on the North Beach at twenty minutes after ten two days ago.”

Kendall looked up startled. He had been at the beach at just about that time. Why hadn’t he seen him? Because I was comatose at the time, lying flat out on that concrete wall.

“He was seen by a number of people, including a young boy who was out with his dog,” Devaney continued. Kendall certainly remembered the young boy, and the dog. “A dark grey car, make unknown, was seen pulling up behind him. A man got out of the car, and pushed Russell into the back seat. The car then sped off.”

Kendall suddenly recalled the squealing tires of a speeding car that he had heard that day. He hadn’t even looked around had he? The whole thing happening right behind his back, and he had seen nothing, zilch, nada, rien. Some detective he was. “Could they describe the man?” he asked hopefully.

Devaney nodded. “Stocky build, about five feet six, looked like a wrestler somebody said. Short blonde hair, aged late twenties, smartly dressed. That description would fit thousands of people.”

Kendall nodded in agreement. That description could have certainly fitted thousands of others. But more to the point, the description perfectly matched one of the men that Kendall had seen the night that he was to have met with Russell. “The man with the newspaper,” he murmured.

Devaney never heard the comment but was continuing to read from his pad.

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