Hawke's Tor (21 page)

I
N THE GARDEN the two policemen sat at the rustic table with Zillah, and Amos came straight to the point. ‘I appreciate you coming here to tell us about the shawl, Zillah, tell us exactly where it is you've seen it.'

‘Well, the people in the villages on our side of the moor have known for a year or two that I do crochet work and Dado sometimes sold my work to them. One of the ladies in North Hill had ordered a shawl for herself and I finished it this week, so took it to her yesterday. She was very pleased with it and after she had paid me and I was leaving her house we were talking at the garden gate when a woman came by with a number of small children with her and a baby in her arms. The baby was wrapped in a shawl that was much better than the scruffy clothes the rest of the children were wearing … and I thought I recognized it. I didn't know the woman and she wanted nothing to do with me at first, but I said I would like to see the baby and give it a Romany blessing and when she eventually let me hold the baby's hand I was able to have a close look at the shawl. There's no doubt about it at all … it's the one I made for Kerensa Morgan's baby!'

‘Are you
absolutely
certain, Zillah?' Amos was excited by her news, but her information was so important he needed reassurance.
‘Certain enough to stand up in a courtroom and swear to it?'

‘Nobody said anything about a courtroom to me….'

‘It shouldn't come to that,' Tom said quickly, ‘You've positively identified the shawl and we should be able to take it from there, but did you learn the name of the baby's mother?'

‘Yes, the woman I'd delivered the new shawl to told me. Her name is Martha Kendall. She's married to a miner and lives near North Hill, at Berriow Bridge and has a new baby boy.'

‘Did she tell you how she came by the shawl? Was it given to her by her husband.' Amos asked the questions eagerly. George Kendall had been the number one suspect until his fellow miners had given him an alibi. This could prove they had lied and at the same time establish Kendall's guilt.

‘I didn't ask, I thought you would want to put any questions to her. If I'd asked questions about it and she knew where it had come from she might have destroyed it, then you would have only had my word that it was the shawl I made for Kerensa Morgan's baby. The word of a gypsy girl wouldn't mean very much … especially in a courtroom.'

‘You did exactly the right thing,' Amos said, gratefully. ‘It's a pity it's a bit late in the day to get to Berriow Bridge and back before nightfall, but there's nothing likely to happen to the evidence between now and tomorrow. We'll call on the Kendalls first thing in the morning. This is the most important piece of information we've had since we began this investigation. Now, thanks to you it could lead us straight to the killer of your father.'

Turning to Tom, Amos said, ‘Although George Kendall was given an alibi by his workmates, you said at the time that miners are notorious for protecting their own, especially when police are involved.'

‘I hope it
does
lead you to the killer,' Zillah said fiercely. ‘If it does I'll feel I've done something right by the Romany code that Dado would have approved of. If someone does a wrong to you or your family it's necessary to avenge it. When Dado's murderer is hanged he'll be able to rest in peace. I'll go back to the farm now, but will you come and tell me when you've caught the man, Tom?

Amos had seen Tom's expression of disappointment when Zillah announced her intention of leaving and although he believed a romance between them could lead nowhere, he said quickly, ‘Of course he will, Zillah, and I hope it will be soon, but don't leave us just yet, you've had a long ride. Come back inside the house and have something to drink at least, or, if you prefer you can stay out here talking to Tom while I fetch the others and have something brought out here for us all. I don't suppose there will be many more fine days left to us this summer, we might as well make the most of them while we can.'

When Zillah hesitated, Tom pleaded, ‘Please stay, if only for a while.'

Giving Tom a look that made it clear it was
his
plea that had persuaded her, she said, ‘All right, but I can only stay for a short while. My grandma isn't very well these days and I don't like leaving her on her own for too long.'

Leaving them together in the garden and going back inside the house, Amos could not help feeling perturbed by the obvious mutual attraction between Tom and Zillah. Their paths through life were so diverse he was convinced there could be no happy ending to their relationship. Nevertheless, when he entered the room where Talwyn and Verity were seated looking at the gypsy girl's sketches, he said, ‘I've said we will all have something to drink together outside at the garden table. Zillah was reluctant to stay at all but Tom persuaded her. I felt she would feel more at
ease out there. She and Tom are chatting together at the moment, we'll give them a few minutes to themselves before going out to join them.'

‘You're a hopeless romantic, Amos, even though, like you, I don't believe anything can come of it.'

The scepticism came from Talwyn but Verity contradicted her immediately. ‘Why not? Tom is honest and sensible enough to see the problems they are likely to face … and after looking at her sketches I would say Zillah is no ordinary gypsy girl. She has a very real talent and it is something I would like to discuss with her … but it can wait for a few minutes.'

 

In the garden there were a few moments of awkward silence between them before Tom asked, ‘How are things up on the moor at Gassick Farm, Zillah?'

‘Not too well at the moment and I can't see them getting any better. As you know, my grandma isn't too well and can't do very much about the farm. She's spent a lifetime up there on the moor and I think the dampness has got into her bones. Some days her rheumatics are so bad she can hardly stand. She keeps talking of giving up the farm and she'll need to do it one day soon.'

‘What will happen if she does, where will you go?' Tom was genuinely concerned.

‘She talks of going to live with a widowed sister who lives down on the south coast, somewhere near Penzance, it's warmer and drier down there. As for me … who knows? Grandma says that when she sells the farm half the money she gets for it will be mine. It should keep me going until I decide what to do. I might take to the road again.'

Tom's dismay was evident, ‘You can't do that, Zillah, a young girl travelling on her own in a wagon wouldn't be safe.'

‘Well, I don't have to think about it immediately, although Grandma's already got someone interested in buying Gassick. He's a farmer who has a very large place on the edge of the moor and wants to buy somewhere on the moor to give him summer grazing. He has a son who wants to stay working with him but who has married and wants a place of his own. Gassick Farm would be ideal, not only does it have its own enclosed land but also has moorland grazing rights. Grandma would get a good price for it.'

‘That's fine for your grandma but it leaves you unsettled – and I really don't think life on the road in a wagon is an answer.'

At that moment Amos and the two women emerged from the house, Amos and Talwyn carrying trays on which were tea and a jug of cordial, while Verity was holding the file containing Zillah's sketches – and putting these down on the table and seating herself, Verity was the first to speak.

‘You're looking worried, Tom, is something troubling you?'

‘Yes, Zillah has just said her grandmother is becoming too old for life on a moorland farm and is thinking of selling up and moving off the moor to live with her sister on the coast near Penzance. If that happens Zillah says she might go on the road with her wagon … by herself. I've said I don't think it's a very good idea.'

‘I agree,' Amos said, vehemently. ‘A young girl travelling on her own in such circumstances would be a target for any predatory man – or men – and I'm afraid there's no shortage of them about.'

It seemed Zillah was inclined to argue, but she was forestalled by Verity. ‘Can I say something that might – but I say only
might
– provide a solution?' Without waiting for a reply she said, ‘Is there anything you particularly enjoy doing, Zillah, I mean
really
enjoy? Something that if you were told you could spend the whole of your day doing it would be your idea of heaven?'

‘You have the answer right there before you on the table. I'm never happier than when I'm drawing or painting something, but I don't get much time for it at Gassick.'

‘I thought … indeed, I
hoped
you might say something like that. When I look at your sketches I see something produced by an artist who not only has a very rare and real talent, but who truly loves the work she puts into it. I have an artist friend, a woman artist, who first had her work exhibited in the Royal Academy in London when she was only seventeen. She is still only a little more than thirty but has already attracted the attention of Queen Victoria and her work is rapidly being acknowledged in the capitals of the civilized world. She recently paid a visit to artist friends here in West Cornwall and was so impressed by what she saw that she has taken a studio close to them and intends moving in to it in the very near future. I would like to take some of your work back to London to show her, Zillah. If she sees the talent
I
believe you possess I am confident she would take you on as a pupil. It would not be far from your grandmother and you would still be in Cornwall. Of course, I can make no promises, but is it something you might consider?'

The suggestion left Zillah speechless and Verity added, ‘You don't have to give me a reply right away, Zillah, think about it and let Tom know. He will be able to contact me through Talwyn … but
may
I take some sketches with me? I will ensure they are returned to you in due course.'

‘Of
course
… and if your friend thinks I am good enough to become a real artist I have no need to think about it. It's something I've dreamed about for as long as I can remember, but that's all I ever thought it would be … a dream!'

Then, struck by a sudden thought, she said, ‘But would the money I get from my grandma when she sells the farm be enough to keep me … and pay your friend for teaching me?'

Verity smiled. ‘There will be no need for you to worry yourself about that, Zillah. If my friend thinks as I do, that you have talent, I will become your patron. In exchange for the occasional piece of your work I will support you until you are able to earn a living from it.'

Her expression one of disbelief, Zillah looked from Verity to Tom and back again before saying, ‘But we have only just met for the first time, why should you want to do this for me?'

‘It may be the first time we have spoken, Zillah, but I saw your sketches when I was last in Cornwall and believe you will one day become a very well-known artist indeed. When you do I will not only have the very real satisfaction of knowing I helped you along the way, but will probably have enough of your work to more than cover my expenditure if ever I decide to sell them. So, you see, not only will I be doing something to bring pleasure to myself and others, but I will have made a sound business investment. '

‘Thank you very, very much…!' Turning to Tom, she added, ‘And thank you too, Tom … Thank you all.'

Suddenly the tears Tom had witnessed on another occasion appeared in her eyes and she said, ‘Dado would have been so very proud….'

Talwyn, used to dealing with upset and emotional pupils put an arm about Zillah's shoulders and said, ‘Let's you, me and Verity go into the house for a while. We'll take the sketches with us and you can explain them to us while the men discuss the information you've given to them.'

W
HILE THE DIVERSE dramatic events were taking place at the Hawkes' house, not very far away a more acrimonious meeting was taking place at the home of Chief Constable Gilbert, adjoining the Cornwall police headquarters in Bodmin.

The chief constable had attended the same church service as Amos, Talwyn, Verity and Tom, where they all met and had a brief conversation, before parting and going their separate ways and, when they reached home the Gilberts found Colonel Trethewy waiting for them. The Trelyn landowner wasted no time on social niceties. Ignoring Mrs Gilbert, he launched straight into a verbal tirade directed at the chief constable.

‘I want a word with you on a very serious matter, Gilbert … or, to be more precise on
two
serious matters.'

‘If this is police business perhaps you can call on me at my office tomorrow morning. I have a busy day but I will find time to discuss whatever it is that's troubling you.'

‘It is very much police business – but also a matter of considerable public concern – and as your officers have called at Trelyn Hall unannounced and disrupted my routine I see no reason why your home should be considered sacrosanct.'

Chief Constable Gilbert could see that Colonel Trethewy had worked himself up into a state of barely contained fury. Turning
to his wife, he said, ‘You carry on into the house and see that cook has everything prepared for lunch, dear. I will be with you as soon as I have dealt with Colonel Trethewy.'

Glancing unhappily from her husband to the irate landowner, she asked hesitantly, as etiquette demanded, ‘Will the colonel be with us for lunch?'

‘No,' Gilbert said firmly, ‘he will not be staying for lunch and he and I will have our discussion out here. I doubt whether it will take long.'

When she had gone into the house, still troubled, Chief Constable Gilbert said stonily, ‘We will walk in the garden to discuss your grievances and, in view of the manner in which you have chosen to air them, I hope they are not of a trivial or imagined nature.'

Pointing along a broad gravel pathway that led between flowering rose bushes, he said, ‘We'll go this way, out of hearing from the house.' With this he set off along the path without waiting for his companion.

Catching up with him, Colonel Trethewy said, ‘My first complaint is something we have disagreed about before … the treatment meted out by Superintendent Hawke to Morgan, my estate steward, after Hawke came to my house without prior warning and told Morgan he was to report to him at your headquarters, here in Bodmin.
Told
him, not
requested
, behaving as though he were a commissioned officer addressing a subordinate. As I told you at the time, my advice to Morgan was to ignore the summons but he felt it his duty to come here and learn what Hawke's nonsense was all about and I came with him. Hawke never informed him – or me – what it was all about at the time, instead, they arrested him and threw him into a cell, as though he was a common criminal. It was a disgraceful way to
treat a perfectly respectable man and I dread to think what they did to him overnight, he refuses to tell me, but he returned to Trelyn a changed man, quite oblivious to everything going on around him. If he does not improve I will need to dismiss him and Hawke will have cost me a first class land steward.'

When Chief Constable Gilbert made no reply, Colonel Trethewy spluttered angrily, ‘Well? Do you have nothing to say in explanation? I can assure you the police committee will be more forthcoming when I lay my complaint before
them
tomorrow. '

‘You said you had a second “serious” complaint,' the chief constable said, laconically.

The reply angered Colonel Trethewy even more and he said, ‘I intend to complain to the police committee about the waste of the tax-payers' money and the misuse of police property by Hawke's sergeant clerk, Churchyard. I had to go to Bodmin Road railway station yesterday and could hardly believe my eyes when I saw him driving away in the headquarters carriage with a young woman on the seat beside him. He had the impudence to nod a greeting to me as though I was one of his no doubt dubious acquaintances.'

‘Sergeant Churchyard would have recognized you, Colonel, he is a very observant policeman … and a good one, probably the best in my force. In fact I had a letter only a couple of days ago from the Chief Constable of the Wiltshire Constabulary, asking me to thank Churchyard for something he had done while he was there on our current murder investigation.'

‘Is that all you have to say? Am I to tell the police committee you actually
condone
the unauthorized use of police vehicles?'

‘You may tell the committee whatever you wish, Colonel.'

The two men had reached the end of the long garden path now
and were faced by a solid studded gate set into a wall which had guarded an ancient priory that had once existed on the site where the chief constable's house now stood.

Stopping and turning to face his companion, Chief Constable Gilbert said, ‘When you saw Sergeant Churchyard he was carrying out my instructions. The young woman with him is the stepdaughter of Wiltshire's Chief Constable, and someone who has provided us with information of great value in our murder investigation. Incidentally, you met her yourself, when she came to Trelyn and spoke to the girls at North Hill school. I detailed Churchyard to take the headquarters wagonette and bring Miss Pendleton from the railway station when I knew she was coming to Bodmin.'

Remembering somewhat uncomfortably that Verity Pendleton was close to the royal court in London, Colonel realized it might be better if he forgot the matter as far as reporting this particular incident to the police committee was concerned, but he had not finished with Chief Constable Gilbert.

‘That doesn't explain the state of my estate steward after he was unlawfully detained in a cell overnight.'

‘Horace Morgan was helping us with our inquiries into certain aspects of the murder of his wife and child and it was convenient for everyone to lodge him in a cell overnight rather than question him far into the night then send him home. As it happened Morgan proved most helpful … and I have received no complaint from
him
.'

‘All these unnecessary inquiries are a complete waste of police time and tax payers' money, Gilbert. I told Superintendent Hawke at the time the bodies of the gypsy and Morgan's baby were found in the well, that the gypsy was obviously the murderer of both the baby and Morgan's wife. The gypsy threw the
baby into the well and accidentally fell in after it. Had all this happened in the days before Parliament forced a constabulary on us I would have explained this to the coroner and that would have closed the book on the matter, leaving the parish constables free to do something useful by stopping gypsies and vagrants coming into Cornwall and causing mayhem.'

‘And leaving the actual murderer at large to no doubt kill again,' Chief Constable Gilbert retorted. ‘I think the flaw in your conclusion was pointed out to you at the time by Superintendent Hawke and later confirmed by the pathologist. Jed Smith – the gypsy – was murdered, as was Mrs Morgan. The killer was also responsible for the death of the baby, although the circumstances of his death are less clear.'

‘All fanciful hogwash!'

‘Perhaps I should come along to this meeting and say my piece,' Gilbert said, amiably. ‘As we get closer to the murderer our investigations have uncovered a great many unexpected but most interesting facts the committee would undoubtedly find of great interest, implicating as they do one or two men who hold high office in the county, all of whom must be breathing sighs of relief at the death of the unfortunate Mrs Morgan. Even though they might have had nothing to do with her actual death their behaviour, whilst not criminal in the accepted sense, can at best only be described as despicable and dishonourable. Were their names to become known they would find themselves ostracized by their peers and most probably removed from the prestigious offices some hold.'

Colonel Trethewy looked at the chief constable uncertainly. ‘What are you talking about? Whose names have been mentioned … and why?'

‘Sadly, it is a matter concerning the honour, and morals, of
Horace Morgan's wife and is not something I wish to disclose unless it becomes absolutely necessary and I feel it in the public interest to do so. Tomorrow's meeting of the police committee would perhaps be an appropriate occasion. I could put my information before its members and seek their opinion on how I should deal with it. I have no doubt their discretion could be relied upon to keep my information to themselves, in view of its extremely sensitive nature … but notes will have to be made by clerks, of course, and they might find it more difficult not to repeat what they have heard. But tell me Colonel, is tomorrow's meeting scheduled, or is it one you are calling simply to air your grievances…?'

Watching from the doorway of his home as Colonel Trethewy rode away a few minutes later, Chief Constable Gilbert felt it was highly unlikely the police committee would be called upon to meet on the following day. He also doubted whether the Trelyn magistrate would be quite so virulent in his denigration of the Cornwall Constabulary in the future.

There was also the possibility that Amos's inquiries might yet reveal that Colonel Trethewy had more to hide than the cuckoldry of his estate steward.

Chief Constable Gilbert entered his house feeling the intrusion into his private life on this Sunday might well mark the beginning of a new and less acrimonious relationship between Colonel Trethewy and the Cornwall Constabulary.