by L K Harcourt
‘Court rise,’ commanded the usher in a stern voice. They all dutifully stood up and in walked the Coroner. He wasn’t resplendent in a flowing gown and wig as they had hoped, or anything like the munchkin coroner in the Wizard of Oz pronouncing the death of the Wicked Witch of the East. Instead he was a smallish, rather unimpressive figure in a lounge suit.
‘Good morning everybody,’ said the Coroner. ‘My name is Andrew Smithfield, and I am Her Majesty’s Coroner for the county of Cornwall. Please be seated. It is my task this morning to hold an inquest into a substantial historic hoard discovered on June 11 of this year in a cave beneath the seabed off the Cornish coast and reported to myself on June 13.
‘My job, fundamentally, is to decide whether this find constitutes, for the purposes of the law, treasure. Now that is treasure with a capital T if you will. Certainly this remarkable find would constitute treasure to the ordinary man or woman in the street. But does it satisfy the strict definition under the Treasure Act 1996 which also embraces what used to be known as Treasure Trove?
‘There are a number of criteria which apply, the most important being that it was deliberately concealed with the intention of being recovered and that those who buried it have no obvious heirs or descendants. This being the case it will then fall upon me to ascertain who, in the eyes of the law, are the legal finders and what should be their entitlement to the market value of this collection.’
The Coroner droned on for a couple more minutes and Louise, in the middle of the tightly-linked seats was getting restless as she fought a sudden urge to fall asleep. She tried to straighten her legs as best she could under the seating in front which was uncomfortably close. It was warm and stuffy in the courtroom and she wished someone would turn the air conditioning on – assuming there was any.
Witnesses were called, beginning with the curator of the Royal Cornwall Museum who spoke expansively and enthusiastically about the find and expressed his desire to purchase the collection on behalf of the museum. Rupert had his moment of glory, backing up the curator’s comments and explaining how the students had reported the find promptly to him. He described how he went over to see the hoard for himself.
Funny, no mention of the other treasure he had sought out a few minutes earlier, mused Louise.
And then it was the students’ turn to address the court, starting with Louise as the offspring of the owners. A little nervous, she told the Coroner about the initial discovery of documents and Felipe’s diary down in the lighthouse cellar and how they got on the trail of the treasure following Dan’s efforts at translating the Spanish.
Dan described how he translated key passages of the diary and how this had led them to suspect the existence of an underground passageway. He told the Coroner about the map included as part of the sales particulars of the island which indicated that it ran in fact to the island itself, apparently from the shore.
The question of ownership was gone into and Rupert piped up, saying that he was satisfied that the rightful owners of the cave and tunnels were Louise’s parents. The Coroner then read out a letter from them in which they declared that their daughter and her three friends, John, Dan and Emma had their permission to search the tunnels and that they formally waived their rights to be considered for a claim in the event that the four of them were declared the lawful finders.
‘Very well,’ said the Coroner, looking gravely at the students but with a little twinkle in his eye, ‘that sounds a bit like retrospective permission to me, but if it’s good enough for council planning departments, it’s good enough for me.
‘Now, something I must ask you is this: it is a condition of being considered for a reward that you did not break the law or the relevant code of conduct in pursuit of that treasure. Can you all declare to me that you did not knowingly or wilfully do anything illegal in your efforts to solve this little mystery?’
They all shook their heads.
‘Very well,’ said the Coroner, again. ‘And now for the exciting bit. Do I have a representative from the Treasure Valuation Committee? For the benefit of those of you who may not know, ladies and gentlemen, the committee provides independent advice to government on the fair market value of declared Treasure finds from England, Wales, and Northern Ireland, which museums wish to acquire from the Crown.’
A committee member duly stood up and addressed the court. He was asked to state what, in their expert opinion, was the total value of the collection.
‘Sir it is our considered opinion that a fair market value would be in the region of one million, six hundred thousand pounds. I understand that the Royal Museum in Cornwall is very keen to purchase it.’
There was a sharp intake of breath. The students gasped and clutched each other.
‘Very well,’ said the Coroner, looking round at everybody. ‘It is now my task to draw some conclusions from what we have heard. Firstly, I would say that this has proved a most fascinating case. It is always a pleasure for coroners to undertake treasure inquests. As a lot of you will know, most inquests are inquiries into people’s tragic and untimely deaths. They are inevitably sad, unhappy events, so it’s nice for us all to be able to ponder a wonderful, historic discovery of buried treasure like this.
‘Weighing up all that we know about the find, the expert evidence from the curator of the Royal Cornwall Museum and the county’s finds liaison officer, and accepting also the translations, as far as they go, carried out by Daniel Delaurier of the Spanish captain’s diary, I am happy to declare this find to be Treasure under the terms of the 1996 Act and the property of the Crown. I am also happy to invite its purchase from the Crown by the Royal Cornwall Museum for the sum advised by the Treasure Valuation Committee.
‘The owners of the undersea cave in which the treasure was found have renounced any title to this reward and I therefore declare that the rightful, sole beneficiaries to be the four finders, namely Daniel Delaurier, John Comstock, Louise Locksley and Emma Hardy.
‘Those persons are I believe, all present today and have indicated that any reward payable to them should be divided into equal quarters.’ The Coroner paused and looked at the four students who all nodded.
‘That being so, I therefore declare that the find of valuables from the Providencia, captained by a Felipe Sanchez Vargas and which foundered off the Cornish coast in 1780 to be treasure worth £1,600,000 which shall be divided between the aforementioned Louise Locksley, John Comstock, Daniel Delaurier and Emma Hardy in equal sums of £400,000.’
Louise looked as if she was desperate to whoop for joy but even she managed to keep her emotions in check this time.
‘My congratulations and best wishes to the four of you,’ said the Coroner, beaming at John, Dan, Louise and Emma. He then rose to his feet and gave a small bow, before leaving via a door at the back.
‘Court rise,’ announced the usher, and they all stood up. The courtroom emptied and Rupert, although he wished to stay and chat, sensed that they might like a moment alone to come to terms with their amazing news, grinned cheerily at them and left. The four of them hugged each other, tears running down their cheeks.
‘Oh isn’t this just unbelievable, simply surreal,’ said Louise, ‘to think that our money worries are over. And I’m so pleased especially for you Emma as you more than any of us were really in trouble.’
Emma had a lump in her throat and was struggling to speak. ‘You just don’t know how much this means to me, I really thought I would have to give up my course, I simply didn’t see how I could carry on. Oh this will transform my life, it will transform all our lives. And Dan, we owe so much to you for what you did, your common sense, ingenuity and bravery saved the day.’
‘Yes but I so nearly went and wrecked everything,’ admitted Dan. In many respects Emma, we have you to thank for saving us from Zak that day,’ he added, giving her a big hug, then instantly regretting that remark.
‘Oh Zak, I wonder what happened to him,’ said Emma. ‘I hope his head wasn’t too sore in the end
.’
‘Don’t worry about him,’ said John, ‘this is a wonderful day. This is our day, let’s not let anything spoil it.’
‘Court rise,’ barked the usher again.
Suddenly the door at the rear of the court opened and the Coroner walked back in again. And through the main entrance came a different group of people, some smart in sombre suits but also a large gathering of scruffy-looking characters who were directed into the cramped public seating on either side of the four students. The new arrivals, all of whom seemed equally overweight, were an emotional bunch, dabbing their eyes and hugging each other. And so close were the attached seats to the ones in front, it was impossible for the students to squeeze past without appearing to jostle them rudely.
‘Please be seated,’ said the Coroner, smiling sympathetically.
Glad to get the weight off their long-suffering feet, the scruffies promptly obeyed, and several tree-trunk legs shot out gratefully under the seats in front.
For a second, John, Dan, Emma and Louise remained standing, mentally assessing how easy it would be to intrude upon their sorrow and require them to get up again so they could squeeze past and escape. But the Coroner was now in full flow, giving an earnest and kindly welcome to this very different audience.
The students, still in something of a daze, had little choice but to sit back down again. They glanced at each other ruefully and shrugged as if to say, oh well, better stay put until it’s over. Louise started to fidget again. A pair of hefty buttocks and chubby elbows were now nudging into her, and a faint smell of body odour mixed with cheap after-shave made the air even more oppressive and stifling. She was desperate to get out of the court complex and go off for a celebration drink.
‘My name is Andrew Smithfield, and I am Her Majesty’s Coroner for the county of Cornwall,’ said the Coroner, his words having a familiar ring. ‘It is my sad task this morning to hold an inquest into the untimely death of a man whose body was found floating near to caverns adjacent to Gunwalloe Cove on the evening of Tuesday, June 12th by a fisherman who duly reported the matter to the police.
‘The scene was attended some minutes later by officers from the police station in the nearby village of Porthlevnack and subsequent further inquiries were held and, arising from those inquiries, the body was identified as being that of a local man from the village, Mr Zachariah Penhaligon, aged 45.’
John and Dan both froze when they heard that name. Louise was lost in a world of her own, dreaming about what she would do with her £400,000. She wasn’t interested in some poor unfortunate who had been lost at sea. For Emma, it also didn’t register straightaway. Her head too was spinning with their news. Emma wasn’t particularly bothered that they had found themselves accidentally staying for another inquest. She was just happy and excited and eager to get outside with the others and talk about it all.
The case now being outlined barely registered with her. But she felt Dan stiffen slightly and glanced at him. He looked uncomfortable and a little flustered. So too did John. Then she heard the dead man’s name – Zachariah Penhaligon of Porthlevnack. Why did it sound strangely familiar, and yet unfamiliar at the same time? And what was wrong with the boys?
Then it struck her – Zak! Could it possibly be? Emma did not know his surname, unlike the boys who had found that out and kept a check on the police investigation as best they could via the internet over the summer. But how many Zachariahs in their mid 40s would there be living in a small community like Porthlevnack?
Could it be the same Zak they had encountered in the tunnel? The Zak who had trussed them up; the Zak who had beaten up Dan and then lied about killing him . . . the Zak she had clobbered with a spade?
CHAPTER 28
‘Now my task is a fairly straightforward one,’ intoned the Coroner, in the soft, compassionate voice he reserved for such occasions. ‘It is not my job to apportion blame. This is not a criminal court. My job is simply to seek answers to the following questions: who died, when and where the death occurred, and how the cause of death arose.
‘With that in mind I intend to call a number of key witnesses, and we’ll start if we may with Police Constable Raymond Trevethick.’
The officer went to the witness stand and took the oath on the Bible before giving his evidence. Clearing his throat, he said, ‘I attended the scene on the evening of June 12th, at approximately 2130 hours and could clearly see the bloated body of a well-built man floating in the entrance to a ravine in close proximity to Gunwalloe Cove. Based on what I saw, I immediately radioed for an ambulance and the body was subsequently retrieved from the water by paramedics.’
‘Did you notice anything unusual about the body, anything that might have offered a clue as to what Mr Penhaligon had been doing immediately prior to his death?’ asked the Coroner.
‘Yes sir, Mr Penhaligon was wearing a ship’s safety harness, including a steel D ring for a safety rope to be attached. These are often worn by sailors on deck as a precaution against slipping overboard so they can be hauled up. Underneath that, he was fully clothed. There was no rope attached at the time the body was discovered but the fact he was wearing the harness would strongly suggest that Mr Penhaligon had been on board a ship or large boat of some kind and for whatever reason, lost his footing and went overboard,’ said Pc Trevethick.
Tiny beads of sweat broke out across the foreheads of John and Dan. They both looked fidgety and nervous. The body must have been found within about four hours of them dumping it for the police to get there by 9.30pm. They were lucky they hadn’t actually been seen doing the deed. But the evidence seemed to be going in their favour. They shot each other reassuring glances and John mouthed, rather indiscreetly, ‘thank God.’ It was intended for Dan but unfortunately, Emma also happened to be looking his way at that moment.
‘May I ask you, Pc Trevethick, was any attempt made to establish what vessel Mr Penhaligon might have been crewing? Surely if a ship lost a man overboard it would be duly reported to the coastguard and police? Was any such report made and any search carried out?
John and Dan held their breath and suddenly started to look uncomfortable again.
‘Sir, there were no distress calls received by HM Coastguard or the police around that part of the coast during the period in question. Exhaustive enquiries were made but turned up nothing. However, sir, as you well know, there are still smuggling activities going on around the Cornish coast to this day. I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead but our previous dealings with Mr Penhaligon would suggest that he might well have been involved in crewing a ship which, shall we say, would not seek to make itself known to the authorities or follow the usual accepted maritime procedures.’
‘I see,’ replied the Coroner, looking grave, ‘and that might explain why health and safety practices on board were also less than satisfactory.’
The next to take the stand was the paramedic called to the scene. He confirmed that Zachariah Penhaligon was already dead upon his arrival and that no medical assistance could be attempted. He noted that the body appeared bloated and that rigor mortis was no longer present. He estimated that death had occurred within the previous 12 hours.
‘There were numerous marks on the body consistent with bruising and evidence of some form of severe trauma to the head,’ said the paramedic. ‘From what I saw, I could not say with any certainty whether those injuries were received before Mr Penhaligon entered the water or subsequently.’
The Coroner nodded. ‘I now call Dr Simon Atkinson, Home Office forensic pathologist, who carried out the post mortem examination on the body. Dr Atkinson could you please tell the hearing what you found at post mortem and what, in your professional opinion, was the cause of Mr Penhaligon’s death?’
‘Yes sir. I examined the body at the mortuary in the Royal Cornwall Hospital here in St Perro. Some of the bruising and blemishes sustained were consistent with being in sea water for a short period and the effect of the tide repeatedly pushing the corpse against the rocks on the
shore.
‘However the most significant finding was that the top of the skull had effectively caved in, causing severe brain trauma. This must have been achieved by collision at great force with a hard object. The injury was sufficiently severe to have caused Mr Penhaligon’s death, although I cannot rule out the possibility that drowning occurred first and this injury happened subsequently, if for instance, the body was hurled at great force against the rocks in the bay.
‘This might occur during a severe storm and there was such a storm in the area some 24 hours prior to the discovery of the body but the state of the corpse would suggest that death occurred several hours after that storm had passed over. Furthermore I have to say that this injury is more consistent with a single very sharp blow than with the repeated, but lesser impact one would expect from contact with rocks.’
‘Can you shed any light at all then on how that sharp blow might have been inflicted?’ asked the Coroner.
‘It is impossible to be certain,’ continued Dr Atkinson. ‘Skull fractures like this are usually caused by a blunt, heavy object connecting at great force with the head. Bearing in mind the location and the fact that Mr Penhaligon was wearing a safety harness, one must speculate that the injury was sustained on board ship. If a ship was in difficulty for instance and rolling badly, then any loose, hard object on board colliding at speed with the head might cause it. There is some chance, if he was on a sailing boat, that the boom swung across and struck him a glancing blow, although the angle is not quite what one would normally expect but within the realms of possibility.
‘My belief sir, was that this gentleman was dealt a blow to the head while on board ship either killing him outright or rendering him unconscious and that arising from this, he was lost overboard. He was either dead at this point or in no fit state to have extricated himself from the water and he would inevitably have drowned.