The Smuggler's Daughter

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The Smuggler's Daughter Page 22

by Kerry Barrett


  I squeezed Arthur’s arm, nodding to show that his father was right to be scared. ‘He is a murderer,’ I said.

  ‘Indeed. But I believe my father should fear the gallows more.’ He sighed. ‘I just worry that he will tell Morgan everything if he so much as frowns in my father’s direction. He’ll be so scared that he’ll just let everything slip.’

  I pulled my shawl more tightly around my shoulders, listening intently.

  ‘What did you say?’ I asked carefully.

  ‘I didn’t tell him what we were planning,’ Arthur said. ‘I don’t want him warning Morgan off. Instead, I said I’d heard rumours from the customs men that they were looking for those helping smugglers and that he should be careful. I said quite forcefully that he should keep all the gates and doors locked. And to make sure they stay that way all night.’

  I breathed out in relief.

  ‘I’ve done all I can.’ Arthur pulled me close to him. ‘At least, I hope so.’

  I hoped Reverend Pascoe would heed Arthur’s warnings. He was a nice man, I thought. Kind and caring. I didn’t want to see him hang because of Morgan’s misdeeds.

  ‘And your mam?’

  I shrugged, clasping my hands together at my chest, showing that I hoped it was going to be all right. Arthur nodded.

  ‘So we will watch the beach tomorrow evening then?’ he said.

  I nodded. The moon wasn’t full yet but we did not want to miss our chance to prove Morgan’s guilt. He was clever when it came to predicting the weather and if there was a storm on its way he could decide to land the goods sooner.

  Arthur nodded, looking out over the sea. ‘I believe you’re right. We should start watching tomorrow in case they bring the cargo early.’

  I followed his gaze to the horizon.

  ‘Where do the goods come from, I wonder?’ he said thoughtfully. ‘France? Holland?’

  Carefully, I repeated the names of the countries he was listing. The words felt unfamiliar and magical on my tongue. ‘Where else?’

  ‘Spain,’ Arthur said.

  I repeated the name, hissing the S like a snake. I liked how it sounded.

  ‘Maybe one day I will take you to these places.’

  But I shook my head. ‘Not there,’ I said.

  I felt in my pocket for a scrap of paper, and a stub of charcoal. And then I drew, in just a few lines, a wide, open space and a tiny horse and cart with us on board.

  ‘Da told me stories about a place where there are no people,’ I said, taking my time over each word. Arthur’s eyes widened and I smiled.

  ‘He said it was just space and sky.’ I sighed happily. ‘Just space and sky.’

  Arthur was looking at me, a curious expression on his face.

  ‘And that’s what you want, is it? Somewhere where there is nothing?’

  ‘Space and sky,’ I said again. I screwed up my face. ‘It’s just a dream.’

  ‘Maybe we can find somewhere like that one day,’ Arthur said. ‘Somewhere to start from the beginning.’

  I nodded. That was it exactly. Starting from the beginning. I found people to be difficult. They said the wrong things and they didn’t always act as they should. I didn’t understand the rules that other people just seemed to know. No, not rules. What was the word? Conventions, that was it. How people were supposed to be. Maybe in a new land it would be easier. Maybe the conventions would make more sense if I was there at the beginning. I smiled to myself. It was just a silly dream, but it made me happy.

  ‘My father wants me to follow him into the church,’ said Arthur suddenly.

  ‘I know,’ I said.

  ‘I could not imagine anything worse.’

  I nodded again. I knew that, too. Arthur loved growing things. He loved being outside and feeling the earth in his fingers. Spending his days in a dim, airless church would finish him.

  ‘In all this space do you think there would be enough for some fruit bushes? Perhaps an orchard? Maybe some vegetables?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, grinning. ‘Yes.’

  Arthur nodded, as though I’d just confirmed what he’d been thinking. ‘Then it sounds very much like your dream land would suit me, too.’ He grinned at me. ‘Shall we go there together one day?’

  I was thrilled at the very thought. ‘Yes please,’ I said. I snuggled into him, pretending – for a few moments at least – that it wasn’t just a dream and that maybe we could escape together one day.

  Chapter 33

  Phoebe

  2019

  ‘Shit,’ I said to myself as I walked back to the pub. ‘Shit, shit, shit.’ I was totally rattled by everything that had happened – the police officer’s amused “banter” about my crime reporting, Jed leaving the book for me at the library and, it seemed, hanging around outside the police station and the library to watch me. That was borderline creepy, not romantic in the slightest. And I’d messaged him asking if he’d left the book and he’d not replied to that one either.

  I walked so fast out of the village that I was sweating and out of breath by the time I’d got halfway back to The Moon Girl. I was worried about what was going on at the pub, scared Liv was involved, and suspicious as to why Jed had been following me. But what could I do about any of it? There had to be a bigger police station in Truro. I could go there, but as soon as they contacted the officer in Kirrinporth they’d be told that I was flaky and not to be trusted.

  At a loss, and worn out, I wandered away from the road up on to the grass verge where there was a little viewing spot. I sat down on the bench with a sigh and looked out over the sea. I could just glimpse the roof of the pub from here and I wondered what Liv was doing.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and rang Stacey at work, hoping she’d be at her desk. I was in luck – she answered almost straightaway.

  ‘Good timing,’ she said when I’d said hello. ‘I’ve just got an email with all the info. I’ll forward it.’

  ‘What does it say?’ I was too eager to wait for the email. ‘Can you give me the basics?’

  ‘Right, the man, Ewan Logan?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Fake name. There was a Ewan Logan born at around the right time – early 1970s – but he died as a baby.’

  ‘Oldest trick in the book,’ I said. Taking the name of someone who’d died was an easy way to get a birth certificate and become legit.

  ‘You sound pleased?’ Stacey said.

  ‘Not pleased really, just that I knew he wasn’t what he seemed,’ I said. I was relieved more than anything. Perhaps my instincts weren’t all whack after all, despite what Liv said. ‘What else have you got?’

  ‘Okay, so the family – the Watsons?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Nothing. No record of anyone of that name.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  I leaned back against the wooden struts of the bench. ‘Nothing?’

  ‘I’m forwarding the email now, so you can see for yourself.’

  ‘The whole family? Nothing from the pub?’

  ‘Nope. Nothing.’

  ‘What about the kid? He went to Barnmouth Primary School. I’ve seen a photo of him with the school logo on his jumper.’

  ‘Even the kid.’ Stacey sounded slightly exasperated, but she always sounded a bit like that so I pushed on.

  ‘Does that mean what I think?’

  ‘It’s possible,’ she said.

  ‘Witness protection?’

  ‘That’s the only thing that makes sense to me. But there’s no way to know for sure, of course.’

  ‘Christ,’ I breathed. It made sense, with the vanishing act and the lack of a forwarding address. And, frankly, it was better than the alternative I’d been imagining of a mafia-style hit on the whole family.

  ‘Phoebe, are you okay?’ Stacey said. ‘This sounds pretty serious stuff.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I lied. I held my hand out in front of me, noticing with dismay, that I was shaking. ‘Honestly. It’s nothing.’
<
br />   ‘Witness protection and fake names doesn’t sound like nothing to me.’

  I took a second, trying to decide what to tell her. ‘It’s not nothing, exactly, but honestly, you don’t need to worry.’

  ‘Just be careful.’

  ‘Actually, Stacey,’ I said, sensing she was ending the conversation. ‘Can I get you to check one more thing?’

  ‘Go on.’ She sounded less than enthusiastic. ‘What do you want?’

  I couldn’t believe I was about to say the words, but I had to know for sure. Because perhaps my instincts hadn’t been whack about Ewan Logan but they definitely were when it came to Jed. ‘Can you just run the name Jed Saunders?’

  ‘Who’s Jed Saunders?’

  ‘Someone who’s been hanging round the pub. I wanted to see if he’s trustworthy. Can you check if he’s got a record?’

  ‘Want me to do it now while you’re on the phone or later and email?’

  ‘Now.’

  ‘Fine, hang on.’ I heard her typing and then she breathed out. ‘Shit, Phoebe. What is this?’

  ‘What?’ My heart was pounding. ‘Is he dodgy?’

  ‘It’s just flagged up to contact DCI Richardson at Devon and Cornwall Police.’

  ‘Really? That’s weird.’

  ‘He’s obviously a person of interest in a case,’ Stacey said.

  ‘Wouldn’t it say that though?’

  ‘Maybe they do stuff differently down there. So will you?’

  ‘Will I what?’

  ‘Contact this DCI Richardson?’

  I thought for a second and then shook my head, even though Stacey couldn’t see me. ‘Nah,’ I said lightly. ‘It’s not important. Just a whim. I’ll just make sure Liv doesn’t leave him alone with the takings.’

  ‘You’re sure you’re okay?’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  Stacey and I said our goodbyes and I ended the call. I sat on the bench for a second and thought. I was really shaken by the whole thing and I felt sick and trembly. This had suddenly gone from being a puzzle to an enormous, and probably very dangerous, mess. What had we stumbled into here? It was like being in an episode of Line of Duty and I had a really bad feeling about it all. Liv was clearly involved in some way, and I’d been snogging one of the baddies.

  ‘Oh God,’ I moaned, putting my head in my hands. Even though I’d known Jed was hanging round with Ewan, I’d trusted him. He was just so … nice. What an idiot I’d been. I gave a snort at my own stupidity. There I’d been suspecting all the innocent people like Jan’s poor husband of being up to no good, and ignoring the bloody criminal on my doorstep, just because he was a good kisser. What if DI Blair found out about all this? I could lose my job. The thought made me feel even sicker than I already did.

  I took a deep breath, trying to slow down my racing heart. I should probably just let everything be. Keep my head down and let whatever was happening, happen. Clearly the local police were on to it. It was being dealt with. At least, I hoped it was. But then again. How could I when my best friend was involved? I thought about Liv taking off her bracelet and pushed the memory away. She was my oldest, most loyal friend and I knew that if she was involved in something illegal, it was accidentally. I needed to find out more.

  For the first time since I’d spoken to Stacey I started to feel a bit better, because alongside my conviction that Liv hadn’t meant to get involved in this whole mucky business, I felt a little flicker of excitement and intrigue. A flutter of interest. A reminder of why I loved my job – or at least why I had loved it before the Ciara James tragedy. And, I told myself, this time I’d been right, hadn’t I? I was right that something was up. With Ewan at least. I’d got it very wrong about Jed. And possibly about Liv, a tiny voice in my head warned, but I ignored it.

  Yes, I needed to find out what was going on and what it had to do with Liv. Maybe this was just what I needed to give my confidence a boost and get me back on the bike.

  But perhaps I had to do it my way.

  My phone rang in my hand and I glanced at the screen to see Stacey’s number.

  ‘What’s up?’ I said as I answered.

  ‘Not sure.’ She sounded flustered. ‘I just had a call.’

  ‘From?’

  ‘From DCI Richardson at Devon and Cornwall Police.’

  ‘No way.’

  ‘Way.’

  ‘What did DCI Richardson say?’

  ‘She said she’d seen that I’d looked up Jed Saunders and was there a reason?’

  ‘Shit,’ I said. ‘What did you say? Did you tell her it was for me?’

  Stacey scoffed. ‘No. I said it was a typo. That I’d meant to write Ted and accidentally put in Jed.’

  I was relieved, though I didn’t completely understand why. ‘Nice one. Did she buy it?’

  ‘Think so. There’s no reason for me to be searching some Cornish criminal from Lewisham, is there?’

  ‘Guess not.’

  Stacey was quiet for a second then she spoke. ‘Phoebe, you’re not involved in anything dodgy are you? I’m not going to get into trouble for this?’

  ‘No, honestly I promise. There have just been a few odd things going on round here and I wanted to check some names.’ I didn’t like lying to her, but I wasn’t sure what else to do.

  ‘Sounds like you need to go and speak to the local police,’ Stacey suggested.

  ‘That sounds like a good idea,’ I said, knowing that I had absolutely no intention of doing what she’d said.

  I ended the call. This was confusing and frightening and, yes I had to admit, exhilarating. What I needed was to write everything down, like I would at work. I wanted to make clear notes about everything I knew and what I needed to know, and then I could make a plan about how to deal with it all. Because it seemed to me I was about to start an investigation into Ewan, Mark and Jed, and – I had a horrible feeling – into Liv, too.

  Slowly I stood up from the bench, and started to walk back to the pub, thinking it all through. Liv was in the bar when I got back, pulling a pint. I was pleased to see there were a few more drinkers in than there had been recently.

  ‘Need a hand?’ I said as I walked past, fairly half-heartedly I had to admit.

  She barely looked up at me. ‘All good.’

  I was glad. I bounded up the stairs to what was now my bedroom – not ours – and shut the door. Then I found a notepad and pen, sat on the bed, and began scribbling down everything I knew about the men.

  Which turned out to be a lot and also not enough.

  I looked in dismay at my notes.

  “Ewan Logan,” I’d written. “False identity.” Then: “Jed Saunders, under investigation?” And finally: “Mark?” I didn’t even know his surname.

  Underneath I jotted down: “On beach.” That proved nothing. But there was the tunnel. And Liv being jumpy about the cellar. Liv generally, I thought. I added some vague scribbles about her credit card bill being paid off and the conversation I’d overheard her have with Ewan.

  The biggest thing was the Watsons possibly being in witness protection. But it was also the thing I had no hope of proving. This was desperate. I put the notebook to one side and lay down on top of the duvet with a sigh. I was putting two and two together and making five. Maybe my instincts were whack, after all.

  I lay there for a while, and then I sat up again and pulled the library books I brought home with me out of my bag. I put the one Jed had reserved for me to one side. I didn’t want to read about pubs and I didn’t want to think about why he’d been watching me. Instead I turned to another book I’d borrowed, about Cornish smugglers. Maybe reading about old-time criminals would give me some clarity on the modern-day types.

  I read about taxes and ships coming from abroad and customs houses, and then I sat up suddenly as I reached a section on the goods being landed.

  The smugglers would shine a light out across the sea to signal to the ships when it was safe to come into shore, I read. A light. Like the blue light I’d seen shi
ning the other night. Was that a signal to someone out at sea?

  There it was again, that flicker of excitement. What if I watched each evening to see if there was a light? To see if there was a pattern to it, or it changed? Then I might be able to work out when the next shipment of goods or – urgh – people was due and catch them in the act. If I took photos or video, then I’d have something concrete to take to the local police. I smiled at the thought of that smug Kirrinporth PC’s face if I presented him with evidence of a local organised crime gang.

  Watch the lights, I thought. That’s what I would do.

  Chapter 34

  Emily

  1799

  Arthur and I spent two long, cold evenings on the clifftop watching in vain for any sign of Morgan and his crew’s illicit activities. It was uncomfortable and tense, but I didn’t mind really. I quite liked being out under the stars with Arthur. Just us two and the great expanse of ocean. We passed the time imagining my dream world. Our dream world now.

  ‘Where will we go?’ I said, nestling in the crook of Arthur’s arm. We were sitting on the grass, leaning against one of the big rocks that scattered across the top of the cliff.

  ‘We will get ourselves a horse and cart,’ he said. ‘We’ll load it up with everything we need for a new life. And then we’ll head across the land where no one has been before.’

  ‘And …?’

  He chuckled. ‘When we find a good spot, we’ll build a farm. And we’ll grow wheat. Maybe I’ll take cuttings and seeds with me from my garden. We’ll build a house for us all to live in.’

  ‘All?’

  ‘Me, you, the babies we’ll have.’

  I’d flushed with pleasure at the thought of growing a family with Arthur. Far, far away from the people in Cornwall, and the rules I didn’t understand, and the noise and hustle and bustle. I wished it was a real place, and not somewhere that only existed in our imaginations.

  I looked up at the sky where the moon was just beginning to rise. It would be full tonight, I thought. I wondered if tonight would be the night Morgan’s goods came ashore. It depended on the tide, I supposed, and the wind. All manner of things.

 

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