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Hawke's Tor

Page 23

by Thompson, E. V.


  Tom’s happy smile was sufficient answer to his question.

  Zillah’s delight at seeing Tom dispelled all the doubts that had been building up as he approached Gassick Farm. He had almost convinced himself that having had time to think about it her feelings towards him might have cooled. Her warm kiss of greeting dispelled his doubts and she grasped his arm happily as she led him inside the farmhouse.

  Some of the effervescence faded when he told her why he was there but when he told her that he and Amos felt the written statement was needed in order to have a suspect committed for trial, she said, ‘I’ll do anything you ask if it helps to catch whoever killed Dado, but are you really that close to making an arrest?’

  ‘Yes, I honestly believe we are. In fact, it should be only a matter of days now.’

  ‘You’ll let me know as soon as he’s arrested?’

  ‘Of course.’

  The silence that followed was broken by Tom who changed the subject, ‘Have you mentioned the possibility of you taking up art with Verity’s friend to your grandma … where is she, by the way?’

  ‘She’s not feeling too good today and went upstairs to rest for a while, it’s something she’s doing more often now. I’ll feel much happier when she moves in with her sister but, yes, I’ve told her and she’s pleased about it. She says she can sell up here and move to her sister’s home without worrying about me now and I should be close enough to Penzance to see her quite often … that’s if Verity’s friend agrees to taking me on as a pupil, of course.’

  ‘I don’t think there’s any doubt about that. Verity wouldn’t have built up your hopes in the way she has if she wasn’t certain about it.’

  ‘I hope so, Tom, I really do … but I don’t suppose I’ll be able to see you as often as I’d like to and that upsets me far more than I thought it would.’

  Her words gave Tom the opening he had been struggling to find in order to speak his mind. ‘Does the thought of not seeing me really trouble you, Zillah, even though you’ll be starting a whole new life? What I mean is, can you see there being a future for us … together?’

  Zillah studied his face seriously for a long time before saying, ‘Why do you ask a question like that, Tom?’

  ‘I’ll tell you that when you give me an answer … an honest answer, Zillah, not one you think I want to hear. Please, it’s important.’

  Once again, Tom needed to wait for her reply, but when it came she spoke seriously and thoughtfully. ‘I think I know where this is leading, Tom, and I’m sure of how I feel, but you need to remember you’re a policeman … and I’m a gypsy.’

  ‘It wouldn’t make any difference to the way I feel about you if you were a mermaid, Zillah. Besides, you’re going to be an artist soon … and I suspect you’ll be a very successful one. When that happens it won’t matter to anyone where you’ve come from, or what you’ve been, but I realize you’re probably being offered the chance of a lifetime and I would never forgive myself – and you might never forgive me – if I was to stand in the way of the future that’s out there waiting for you.’

  ‘Need it stand in the way of anything we do, Tom? Amos and Talwyn both do what they want to do, couldn’t we do the same?’

  ‘Is that what you want, Zillah … really want?’

  ‘Yes … though it might not be easy for either of us, especially as we’ll be at opposite ends of Cornwall.’

  ‘It needn’t be that way, Zillah, that’s why I wanted to know how you really feel about me because Amos is fully aware of my feelings for you and he’s said he’ll have me promoted and transferred to command a division in the Penzance district if it was what we both want.’

  ‘I know it’s what I want, Tom, it would be a new beginning for both of us … a new life together! I just … I can’t believe this is all happening, there’s so much … I feel I might burst.’

  ‘In that case I think I had better do something about holding you together…!’

  Chapter 35

  THE EAGERLY AWAITED letter from Verity to Talwyn confirming that her artist friend would accept Zillah as a pupil arrived two days before Amos and Tom were planning to question Jowan Hodge and was promptly posted on to the gypsy girl at Gassick Farm. Tom would have liked to take it there himself on their way to the chapel where Evangeline Hodge was to preach, but Amos had decided they would take the headquarter’s wagonette because it was likely to be useful if they arrested Hodge and brought him back to Bodmin.

  Taking the vehicle meant they would need to travel on the roads which, although often of an indifferent nature were more suitable for a wheeled vehicle than the rough moorland tracks.

  It took the two policemen longer than anticipated to reach the chapel at Middlewood and Amos was beginning to fear they might not arrive before the service ended, but he need not have worried. It was to be the last service Evangeline would conduct in the tiny chapel and she was making the most of the occasion.

  By the time they arrived the service had been going on for one and a half hours and, according to a miner who left the chapel soon after they arrived, it was ‘likely to go on for another hour and a half because she’s only damned about half of those who live around here. I doubt if she’ll finish until she’s doomed the other half to purgatory in the hereafter.’

  ‘Are you speaking of Evangeline Hodge?’ asked an amused Amos. ‘What is she particularly upset about?’

  ‘Just about everything,’ the miner replied. ‘When she exhausted the subject of the Ten Commandments she made up a few of her own, including drink, tobacco and anything else that makes a miner’s life half bearable. When I walked out she was likening this area to Sodom and Gomorrah … Ah! Here’s someone else leaving and we’re not the first. By the time she’s finished ranting in there she’ll be preaching to no one but her husband.’

  ‘So Jowan is in there with her?’

  ‘At the moment, but he’s looking as uncomfortable as everyone else.’

  The disgruntled miner went on his way and as the family who had left after him passed the wagonette, they were expressing similar sentiments about Evangeline Hodge’s sermon, with the added complaint that her words were ‘Not fit for the ears of children’.

  ‘It sounds as though Evengeline Hodge is getting a few things off her chest before she moves to Exmoor,’ Tom commented when the family passed beyond hearing.

  ‘It certainly does,’ Amos agreed. ‘I wonder how much of it has been prompted by her husband’s association with Kerensa Morgan?’

  ‘We might soon find out,’ Tom said, as another couple of miners emerged from the chapel. ‘If she keeps on at this rate the first miner’s prediction will come to pass and there’ll be no one for her to preach to.’

  But it seemed that some of the chapel’s congregation were more forbearing than others. Although some seven or eight men and women left the chapel prematurely, when the service came to an end half an hour later there were still more than twenty people who filed out having survived the promise of brimstone and fire with which they had been threatened.

  When it was apparent there were no more of the congregation remaining, Amos said, ‘That seems to be all of them, let’s go in and have words with Jowan Hodge.’

  When Amos and Tom entered the chapel many of the candles had been extinguished but those nearest the door were still burning and the light from another was visible inside a room to which the door was open, at the far end of the white-washed and starkly simplistic interior.

  Jowan Hodge was extinguishing the candles and, startled by their unexpected appearance, he declared, ‘You’re the last people I expected to meet on our last night in Cornwall. Did you just happen to be passing, or are you here to bid us farewell?’

  ‘Neither,’ Amos replied. ‘We’re here because we have one or two questions to ask you in connection with the murders of Kerensa Morgan, Albert Morgan and Jed Smith.’

  ‘I’ve already told you where I was on the night of Kerensa’s murder, so I had nothing to do with it and know
nothing at all that could possibly help you.’

  ‘Then how do you explain this?’ Tom had entered the chapel carrying baby Albert’s folded shawl and now he shook it out to show to Hodge.

  Frowning, Jowan Hodge said, ‘What am I supposed to say about it, I don’t think I’ve ever laid eyes on it before.’

  It was not the reply that had been anticipated and for a moment both policemen were nonplussed but while the conversation had been taking place they had not observed Evangeline emerge from the room at the far end of the darkened chapel.

  The first they knew of her presence was when she hurried towards them crying, ‘What are you doing with that? It’s mine.’

  Reaching them, she would have seized the shawl from Tom but, stepping back he lifted it above his head and of her reach. Stepping between the agitated woman and Tom, Amos said, ‘Just a minute, Mrs Hodge. The shawl was given to Bessie Harris by your husband, are you saying it was yours?’

  Rounding on her husband, Evangeline said, ‘You gave it away? What were you thinking of? It was among the clothes I’ve been saving for years, you had no right ... !’

  Confused and upset, Jowan Hodge said, ‘It must have been among the baby clothes you’d collected. There was no sense hanging on to them now so I gave them all to Bessie to pass on to someone in need.’

  ‘You gave them all away? What were you thinking of…? What if the Lord had decided to give us a baby now?’

  Before her husband could reply, Amos said to Evangeline, ‘Are you admitting that the shawl belonged to you? Where did you get it?’

  ‘What’s so important about a shawl?’ Jowan demanded angrily. ‘Can’t you see you’ve upset her?’

  ‘The shawl belonged to Kerensa Morgan,’ Amos said, curtly. ‘It was wrapped about her baby when she was murdered, but when baby Albert was found dead in a well the shawl was missing.’

  Breaking into the conversation, Evangeline said fiercely, ‘Her death was the Lord’s will, she had to die for her sins.’

  ‘Mrs Hodge, are you saying you carried out the Lord’s will by killing Kerensa Morgan—?’

  Interrupting Amos, Jowan said, ‘I protest—!’

  ‘Shut up!’ The miner’s words were cut short by Tom.

  ‘She was a Jezebel,’ Evangeline declared. ‘While she was alive no woman’s husband was safe from her evil.’

  ‘What about baby Albert, did he deserve to be killed too?’ Amos prompted.

  ‘He wasn’t killed.’ Frowning, Evangeline said, more hesitantly, ‘He must have suffocated while I was carrying him to the old explosive store over by Slippery Hill. I wrapped the shawl about him to keep him quiet when he began to cry. I thought he had gone to sleep, but the Lord giveth, and the Lord takes away. Who are we to question his actions?’

  ‘What were you going to do with the baby?’

  It seemed that an agonized Jowan was about to speak again in answer to Amos’s question, but a stern look from Tom silenced him once more and Evangeline said, ‘I was going to have someone take care of him until we moved to Exmoor, then I would have had him back and loved him because he was as much mine as hers. Jowan was his true father, not that foreigner who came up to Trelyn.’

  ‘That isn’t true, Evangeline, I told you it wasn’t true.’ This time Tom was unable to prevent Jowan from crying out.

  ‘It is true. I saw you with her once, with the baby. I saw how you looked at him. It was a father looking at his son. I knew then he should have been mine.’

  Moving so that he was between Evangeline and her husband, Amos asked, ‘But what about Jed Smith, the gypsy? Why did you have to kill him?’

  ‘I went to his wagon to ask him to find someone to look after the baby until we moved to Exmoor, but when we got to the explosives store we found it dead. The gypsy was frightened and said he wanted nothing to do with a dead baby but I knew that when word got around about the baby’s mother he’d tell someone, so when he started to walk away I hit him with an iron bar that was in the store. Then I dragged him to the well and threw him in and threw the poor baby in after him … but not the shawl. It was beautiful and I kept it because it would always remind me of the baby that should have been mine.’

  Looking past Amos to where her husband stood in a state of anguished shock, she said, ‘You should never have given the baby things away, Jowan, especially not the shawl. It was all we had to remind us of the baby the Lord had intended should be ours. But because it had been born of Kerensa Morgan, he must have seen too much of the Devil in him.’

  That night Evangeline Hodge was lodged in Sergeant Dreadon’s police cell in Trelyn and Amos and Tom spent the night in the sergeant’s house. There was little sleep for anyone because their prisoner spent the whole night alternating between hymn singing and loud demands that she be freed and not shut up for carrying out the wishes of the Lord.

  The next day, accompanied by her husband she was conveyed to Bodmin and lodged in a police cell to await an appearance before a magistrate in order to be committed to the Assizes, to face trial for a triple murder.

  When the committal proceedings were completed early that afternoon, Tom set out immediately to inform Zillah that the killer of her father had been caught and sent for trial.

  Meanwhile, Amos returned home to tell Talwyn of the arrest.

  ‘What will happen to her now?’ Talwyn asked the question as she struggled with her feelings which shifted uncomfortably between relief that the investigation had been concluded and reluctant sympathy for Evangeline Hodge.

  ‘She’ll stand trial but will undoubtedly be considered insane and spend the rest of her life in an asylum. It’s a dreadful experience for any woman although her husband’s money should ensure she’ll be treated reasonably. But I’m glad we have finally solved the case … thanks to Zillah.’

  ‘Yes,’ Talwyn agreed. ‘It has been a dreadful time for so many people, yet, in spite of that, a surprising amount of good has come out of it. It means Horace Morgan can now return to his family in India; George Kendall has turned over a new leaf … and not only has Zillah’s talent has been recognized but she and Tom have found each other and have the chance of a happy future together.’

  ‘That’s true,’ agreed Amos. ‘All things of which, in her saner moments, Evangeline Hodge might have approved. But the horrors of the past few weeks are over now. North Hill and Trelyn can go back to being the peaceful and caring communities they have always been.’

 

 

 


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