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
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
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