Hawke's Tor

by Thompson, E. V.

  This information resulted in another long silence. It was broken when Tom said, ‘I’ll keep you informed of all that’s happening with our investigation into his murder. I’m really sorry about all that’s happened, Zillah, but by the time you told me about your father being missing he had most probably already been killed, so there was nothing I could do to prevent it.’

  ‘I know …’ Suddenly and unexpectedly the tears in her eyes spilled over and began running down her cheeks. Reaching out, she gripped his arm fiercely. ‘I wish … but, no, it doesn’t matter what I wish. You’ll find who did to this to my Dado and the others?’

  Feeling deeply sorry for the bereft girl, Tom said, ‘Yes, I’ll find him, Zillah, and he’ll pay with his life for what he’s done.’

  ‘Find who killed my father, have him punished and you’ll learn what it is I wish … but may I see the baby, please?’

  ‘Are you quite certain you want to, Zillah, it’s a very sad sight?’

  ‘I’d like to see the face of someone who shared death with my father.’

  ‘Very well, the baby’s body is inside the explosives store. I’ll take you there.’

  Inside the stone-built building the sunshine streaming through the open door fell upon the tiny body and Zillah looked at it for a long while before saying, ‘I expected to see it wrapped in the shawl I made for Kerensa Morgan shortly before it was born. Dado took it to her at Trelyn and said she was delighted with it.’

  Tom had been over the evidence many times since Kerensa Morgan’s murder and he remembered that in Jemima Rowe’s statement to him and Amos when they had first met her, the retired Trelyn Hall housekeeper had specifically said that when she saw Kerensa pass by her cottage, carrying baby Albert, he was wrapped in a shawl.

  Suddenly excited, he asked, ‘This shawl, was there anything particularly distinctive about it? I mean, was it something your father might have recognized if he had seen it wrapped around the baby?’

  ‘Of course. He admired it while I was making it and was so proud of it when it was finished he took it to Kerensa Morgan himself.’

  ‘Then we might have found a motive for your father’s murder. If he was taken to the baby on the night he was called out from your wagon and recognized the shawl he would have known who the baby was and might have said something about it to the murderer, or perhaps refused to have anything to do with what was going on. The murderer couldn’t have allowed him to go away because when your father heard about Kerensa’s murder he might well have gone to the police. Is there anything particular about this shawl I might recognize if I saw it, Zillah?’

  ‘Yes, Although you wouldn’t see it immediately. I worked the initials “A” and “M” into the pattern because Kerensa said if it was a boy it was going to be called Albert after her father and if a girl, Agnes, after her husband’s mother. If it’s going to be helpful I could give you the drawing of the pattern I did before I started making the shawl….’

  In spite of Tom’s misgivings Zillah insisted on returning to the moorland farm alone and when she had gone to break the news to her grandmother that the body found in the well was that of her father, Tom took news of the identifiable shawl to Amos, explaining his theory that Jed Smith might have been murdered because he recognized it and realized who the baby was.

  ‘The facts are there, Amos. Smith was called out from his gypsy wagon some time in the early hours of the morning, by which time Kerensa was already dead. It’s hardly likely that whoever called at the wagon said, “I’d like you to get rid of this baby for me, I’ve just killed its mother”! I think we must assume that the object of calling upon Smith was to have him find a home for the baby, but I doubt very much whether he would have been told where the baby was from, or why there was such a sense of urgency about it.’

  ‘It’s a good theory, Tom, but after going to so much trouble why kill the baby as well as Smith?’

  ‘I have no answer to that,’ Tom admitted, adding. ‘It’s always possible Smith wasn’t killed on the night of the murder but, in order to keep him quiet … but, I admit, that still doesn’t explain why baby Albert was murdered.’

  Despondently, he added, ‘We have a great many possibilities, but very few probabilities and are no further forward in identifying a killer.’

  ‘I have to agree with you,’ Amos said. ‘Although this shawl might eventually prove important if we ever find it, we’ll say nothing to anyone about it at the moment and when we get the drawing we’ll commit it to memory so that we’ll recognize the shawl if we ever come across it. By the way, I can see why you are so taken with this gypsy girl, she’s very attractive. Do you think she will go back to her father’s people now?’

  ‘No, she says they never forgave him for marrying a gorgio – a non-gypsy. She’s going to remain with her grandmother on her moorland farm, but it’s very remote and there are only the two women there. I’m concerned our murderer might get it into his mind that Zillah could recognize something about him, something she isn’t even aware of knowing. If he does then she’ll be an easy target for him.’

  ‘Then we must keep an eye on her, we don’t want anything happening to anyone else. Besides, there’s always a chance she might remember something that will help us … but don’t get too involved with her, Tom. Talking of help … with any luck we’ll hear from Verity soon, giving us what information she’s been able to glean about Horace Morgan. I’ll leave you to tie things up here with Sergeant Dreadon, while I brief the surgeon from Launceston who’ll be carrying out the autopsy. Then I need to produce a report by the morning for Chief Constable Gilbert on these latest two murders. He’s not going to be happy! When the meeting with him is over I’ll ride to Launceston to discuss the findings of the autopsies with the surgeon carrying them out. Oh, in case I miss you in the morning, ride to North Hill and check whether Jowan Hodge and his wife have returned home. If they haven’t, make some inquiries among their friends and neighbours. His absence is beginning to look suspicious.’

  Chapter 22

  THE SURGEON WHO carried out the autopsies on Jed Smith and baby Albert was young and keen. He was actually hoping to pursue a career in forensic pathology and had recently returned from a visit to Bristol University in furtherance of this ambition. He told Amos he had completed the examination of both bodies but had not yet written up his reports on them.

  ‘You can send the reports on to us at headquarters later,’ Amos said. ‘Just tell me what you found.’

  The young pathologist leaned back in his chair and, displaying an enthusiasm for his subject that Amos found ghoulish, explained, ‘The cause of the gypsy’s death is perfectly straightforward, he had a number of cuts and abrasions caused by contact with the stonework of the lining of the well as he fell, but what killed him was a blow to the back of his head, delivered with such force that his skull was severely fractured. The weapon was undoubtedly the iron bar found nearby. Because it was rusty and had a rough surface I was able to find hair, blood and fragments of skin embedded in it … The cause of the baby’s death was far more difficult to ascertain and proved most interesting. However, I am confident I found sufficient evidence for my eventual findings to convince a coroner’s jury of its accuracy.’

  Pausing, the surgeon awaited a reaction from Amos. When none was forthcoming, he continued, his enthusiasm undiminished, ‘The baby’s body had hardly a mark on it. The distance from the top of the well to the water was not great so there were no particularly noticeable marks caused by impact with the water and it does not seem to have touched the side on the way down.’

  ‘So its death was due to drowning?’

  ‘No,’ said the surgeon, triumphantly. ‘There was no water in the lungs. It means the baby must have been dead before it was thrown into the well.’

  Amos was puzzled. ‘But … you said there were no marks on the baby’s body, how did it die?’

  ‘That is exactly what puzzled me – at first,’ the surgeon said, adding with obvious pride. ‘The baby h
ad not been fed for some time before its death – but that had nothing to do with its death, either.’

  Pausing once again for effect, he was satisfied with Amos’s obvious bewilderment and continued, ‘I found traces of wool, probably from a shawl, inside the baby’s mouth and even a tiny fragment in its throat. I doubt that one in a hundred pathologist, no, not one in a thousand, would have been as thorough, Superintendent – but I was. As a result I am willing to swear on oath that the cause of the baby’s death was asphyxiation as a result of being wrapped in a shawl which covered not only its body, but probably its face as well.’

  ‘But there was no trace of a shawl around the baby, or in the well?’

  ‘I certainly never saw one.’

  Mulling over the surgeon’s information, Tom asked, ‘Would you say this was the result of a deliberate act, or an accident, Doctor?’

  Leaning back in his chair and putting his fingertips together in front of his face, the surgeon said triumphantly, ‘I have given you the cause of the baby’s death, Superintendent Hawke, I suggest that exactly how it was caused is for you to ascertain!’

  Riding across Bodmin Moor while Amos was on his way to Launceston, Tom was tempted to make a slight detour and see how Zillah was before riding on to North Hill to call at the home of Jowan Hodge. But he resisted the temptation, knowing he should be able to spend more time with her once his business was concluded at North Hill, especially if the wealthy miner was not at home.

  Unexpectedly, he found the Hodges had returned home and the door was opened to him by Evangeline Hodge. A tall, stern-faced woman she looked him up and down disdainfully when he introduced himself and asked whether Jowan was at home. Then, in the stentorian tones of someone accustomed to addressing outdoor meetings of Bible Christians, she demanded to know what he wanted with her husband.

  Patiently, Tom explained that he was investigating the murder of Kerensa Morgan and that purely as a matter of routine he needed to eliminate her husband from the list of those who might have had the opportunity to kill her.

  ‘Well, you can eliminate Jowan from your inquiries here and now,’ Evangeline declared. ‘He was not even in Cornwall when the murder was committed. He was in North Devon, staying at the home of my parents. He had gone there the day before to look at a house we are thinking of buying and moving to. He liked the house and sent for me to join him in order that I might give my approval to the purchase, so there is no need for him to be troubled by you.’

  ‘Thank you Mrs Hodge, I am grateful for your information, but I need Mr Hodge to tell me himself of his whereabouts on the night of the murder and I will need to have the names and address of your parents.’

  ‘Are you doubting my word, Sergeant Churchyard?’ Evangeline appeared to actually swell with indignation.

  ‘No,’ Tom replied evenly, ‘and your corroboration will be duly noted, but I can’t accept the evidence of a second person, I need Mr Hodge to tell me himself.’

  Tom felt that the look she gave him should have reduced him to ashes on the spot, but with a snort that would have done credit to a medieval war-horse Evangeline Hodge turned away and called, ‘Jowan, come here, there is someone who wishes to speak to you.’

  Moments later a man appeared in the doorway of a room that appeared to be a kitchen, wiping his hands on a piece of towelling. Jowan Hodge was smaller that his wife and slightly built, but Tom felt that in order to have achieved the success he enjoyed as a miner he must be stronger than appearances suggested.

  ‘This gentleman is a policeman who is looking into the murder of Kerensa Morgan. He wants to know where you were on the night she was killed. I have told him, but he won’t accept my word for it and needs to hear it from you.’

  Turning back to Tom, she said, ‘I trust you have also spoken to those who might have had reason to kill her – and there are a great many. She was a whore and the wrath of the Lord should have fallen upon her long before it did.’

  ‘And her baby and Gypsy Jed Smith … they deserved to be murdered too?’

  Evangeline Hodge seemed taken aback by his question, but only for a moment. ‘The ways of the Lord are beyond our understanding, young man. Are you a Christian?’

  ‘I am a policeman and I’m here to speak to your husband. Perhaps you will leave us, please?’ Tired of her religious cant, Tom ignored her question and brought the subject back to the purpose of his visit.

  ‘We have no secrets from each other and there is nothing that either of us has to say that can’t be shared.’ Then, aware from Tom’s expression that he was losing patience, Evangeline Hodge added, frostily, ‘But if that is your way of doing things… !’

  Leaving her observation unfinished, the tight-lipped woman sniffed haughtily before turning and walking back inside the cottage.

  Noticeably nervous, her husband said to Tom, ‘What exactly is it you want with me? As Evangeline told you, I was staying with her parents in North Devon on the night poor Kerensa was murdered. ’

  ‘I’ll need to take their address in order to confirm that, Mr Hodge, purely to eliminate you from our inquiry, you understand? At the moment a question mark hangs over the head of any man who ever knew her, and I gather from your reference to her as poor Kerensa that you don’t entirely agree with your wife’s opinion of her.’

  Jowan appeared uneasy and when there was a sound from inside the cottage Tom realized that Evangeline Hodge was close enough to hear their conversation.

  ‘Shall we walk in the garden while we are talking, Mr Hodge?’

  After a hasty, nervous glance in the direction of the sound they had both heard, Jowan Hodge nodded his head in vigorous assent, without speaking.

  When they were away from the house the miner-turned-entrepreneur relaxed, but only for a moment. His tension returned when Tom asked, ‘You do know why I am questioning you, Mr Hodge?’

  ‘Yes … no! You said you are speaking to anyone who might have known Kerensa and I have told you I wasn’t even in Cornwall when she was killed.’

  ‘That doesn’t necessarily mean that you weren’t implicated in her death, Mr Hodge. I am only questioning those who knew Kerensa particularly well.’

  ‘I knew the girl, I’m not denying that, but so did a great many men. After all, she was barmaid at the Ring o’ Bells and it’s a very popular public house, but I was only an occasional customer – Evangeline and my work saw to that. There are a great many men who spent far more time in there and knew her better than me.’

  The two men were walking side by side along a garden path while they talked, but now Tom stopped so suddenly that Jowan Hodge was startled. However, looking questioningly at his companion, he stopped too.

  ‘Mr Hodge, I am making inquiries into what has turned out to be three murders. It is an extremely serious matter and I am not playing games. I expect anyone I question to take it equally seriously and answer me truthfully. It’s in their own interest to do so because if I learn someone is not being entirely truthful my assumption will be that they have something to hide and I will arrest them and take them to Bodmin police headquarters for further questioning. Now, having spoken to your wife I realize she has a very strong personality. Were I to arrest you she would undoubtedly want to know why and I’m quite certain my superintendent would feel obliged to tell her. I believe you knew Kerensa Morgan far better than you have intimated, especially when she was Kerensa Tonks, although I’ve been told your relationship did not end when she was married. You certainly knew her far better than most of the Ring o’ Bells customers. Now, shall we begin again – or perhaps you would like the support of your wife while I am questioning you?’

  Hodge glanced quickly towards the cottage to where his wife had appeared in the doorway – and he visibly paled. ‘Can we walk down to the gate … or, better still, along the lane a little way?’

  By way of reply, Tom walked to the garden gate and held it open. After another nervous glance towards the house, Hodge scurried out to the lane.

  They had not
gone far before Jowan Hodge said, ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been as frank as I should with you. You’re right, of course, I did know Kerensa better than I said. Better than I should have, being a happily married man, but there was never anything serious between us, it was just … well, she was a pretty girl and I suppose I felt flattered – but I’d rather you didn’t repeat my words to Evangeline. You won’t tell her what I’ve said?’

  ‘If you answer my questions truthfully and I’m satisfied you had nothing to do with her murder – or the murders of the others – there will be no need for me to say anything about your relationship with Kerensa to anyone, although it could still get back to your wife. More than one person I’ve spoken to has linked your name with hers. It’s even been suggested it’s you and not Horace Morgan who fathered her baby.’

  ‘That’s not true! It’s just not true!’ Desperate to be believed, Hodge added, ‘I haven’t been able to give Evangeline a baby and she was almost as desperate as Florrie Kittow at the Ring o’ Bells to have one … but, sadly, she’s too old now.’

  ‘Did Kerensa Morgan ever suggest to you that you were the father of her baby?’

  ‘No.’

  The brief reply was not entirely convincing and Tom said, ‘Are you quite sure about that, Jowan? Why else would she seek you out after the baby was born? I would have thought she’d have wanted to settle down once she had a respectable husband and a baby son.’

  It was a shot in the dark, but it paid off.

  ‘Her husband might be looked upon as respectable but there was little love in the marriage and he was mean with his money, something that didn’t go down at all well with Kerensa. She was free enough with her favours but she expected men to show their appreciation by giving her gifts, otherwise she certainly couldn’t have afforded the clothes she wore on what she earned at the Ring o’ Bells.’