by Holly Bell
‘Pancakes? What’s inside?’ asked Trelawney.
‘Apple compôte, with coconut cream and custard for Amanda and ordinary for us.’
‘Wow, thank you, Uncle Mike. You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.’
‘Well, our story has now taken us to Spain, and we are about to meet an ardent fan of all things sweet.’
‘Lucy?’
But Hogarth did not reply, merely led the way back to the sitting-room and, once they were all sitting comfortably, resumed his tale.
***
The name on the bell was Lucia Palomo. The house, with its white-washed stucco walls and red half-barrel roof tiles, was a little way away from its neighbours. To the uninitiated, it would have seemed a small house for so large a family. Perhaps they would have assumed that, TARDIS-like, it was bigger inside than it looked on the outside. There was also a long building attached that might have had more rooms.
Hogarth went up some steps onto a porch and rang. Shortly, the door was open. He took the hand held out to him and returned the welcoming smile.
‘Hello, Chief Inspector Hogarth, I’m Elodie. How do you do?’
‘Well, thank you. And thank you for seeing me.’
‘Please, come in. Vera and Harry explained?’
‘Yes, they did. I wasn’t quite sure, er, Elodie. You’re five? Yes?’
‘And a quarter,’ she added pleasantly.
‘Yes, of course. It separates you from all the ordinary five-year-olds,’ Hogarth said understandingly.
‘I don’t think there’s any difficulty in doing that, do you think?’ she replied, with a shy gleam.
He laughed. ‘Well no, not in the circumstances.’
‘Vee and Harry thought it would be easiest if you met me first. As I usually speak for the family. Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. Would you like tea? I have some ready.’
‘Please.’
Off went Elodie with a light, efficient step. There was a neatness about her, a confidence mixed with, not timidity exactly, but a kind of reticence. The way that she wore her loose cream linen capris, tan leather sandals and short-sleeved white shirt, reminded him of a school uniform.
Soon Elodie returned with the tray. She set it on the table between the chair where he sat and the sofa where she disposed herself, knees together, tucking her long pale hair behind one ear.
‘We’ll let it brew, shall we?’
He looked at the biscuits she’d served and commented with pleasure:
‘Hobnobs?’
‘Vera said they’re your favourite?’
‘Very much so. Thank you.’
They took a few sips and munched a biscuit or two while they chatted a little about Spain, until Elodie looked at Hogarth kindly and asked.
‘How are you getting on? Are you getting used to … me? I know it isn’t customary for a five-and-a-half-year-old to represent the household.’
‘True. And yes, it is a little strange at first, but yes, I am getting used to it.’
‘Perhaps you’d better meet Peter,’ Elodie suggested.
‘Peter. He’s 18. Is that right? I’d like that.’
‘Yes. Ready?’
‘Ready.’
Without another word, he appeared. Standing by the table, he reached out a hand.
‘Sir, welcome to our home.’ He rocked on his heels slightly.
‘Hello Peter. And please call me Mike. I’m not here in any official capacity, I assure you. And this is under the seal of the utmost confidence,’ Hogarth assured him.
‘Yes, Vee and Harry said so. We do appreciate your discretion. Shall we sit?’
They suited the action to the word, as Hogarth insisted,
‘Believe me, Peter, the appreciation is all on my side. If you — any of you — can help me in any way, I would be deeply grateful.’
‘We’ll do our best. I’m not sure to what extent Zoe will. I wouldn’t try and question her directly,’ advised Peter.
‘Zoe is three?’
‘And a half. I wouldn’t forget the half if I were you,’ Peter said in mock trepidation.
Hogarth smiled at this sally.
‘Understood.’
‘It would be like someone calling you Detective Constable Hogarth,’ added Peter.
‘Ah. I get it.’
‘Elodie’s made you tea, I see. Splendid, splendid. Now, I understand that this is about the missing children, the missing families from your area?’
‘That’s right,’ Hogarth confirmed.
‘And you want to know what happened to them?’
‘Very much so.’
‘You understand that you cannot reveal us as your source of information. However, you can use it as a means of closure, or possibly a jumping-off point to conduct further investigations that you would be able to include in a report.’
Hogarth nodded. ‘I understand. And … you can all help me?’
‘As I say, I don’t know how much direct help Zoe will give you. She can be very shy. But if she does ever get comfortable with you, well … you’ll know!’ Peter ended with a grin.
Hogarth smiled then enquired,
‘How about the other members of the family?’
‘Yes. Would you like to meet them? Or have you had enough for one day?’
‘I would very much like to meet them.’
***
‘And that’s enough telling for one day,’ concluded Hogarth.
Amanda pursed her lips to stop the questions from spilling out. She successfully exercised self-control long enough to make it until the car journey home.
‘I wonder where Lucy was?’ she pondered to Trelawney. ‘Seems odd she wasn’t there to greet Hogarth after agreeing to meet him.’
‘Oh well, Peter was there.’
‘And Elodie. She seems awfully articulate for a five-year-old. And making hot drinks and carrying heavy trays.’
‘Five and a half,’ corrected Trelawney lightly. ‘I agree. Perhaps she’s a child prodigy. Some children are surprisingly advanced for their years. I remember the Dythan robbery case. A highly observant and logical seven-year-old was the one who made the most sense. Thanks to him, the case was solved.’
‘And? Whodunit?’
‘The parents. For the insurance payout,’ responded Trelawney.
‘Oh dear. What happened to the child while they were in prison?’ Amanda asked with concern.
‘They weren’t. Just a hefty fine. Wouldn’t surprise me if it was their son who negotiated the reduced sentence for them.’
Amanda raised her eyebrows.
‘Well, at least the rest of the family so far make sense. Peter seems normal, and it’s understandable if a three-and-a-half-year-old like Zoe doesn’t want to talk about something unpleasant. But what I don’t get is how any of them could know about something that happened before they were born.’
‘Maybe their parents were students or teachers at Growan House,’ Trelawney hazarded.
‘So, where are they?’
‘Maybe Elodie and Peter and so on are Lucy’s children. But this is all hypothesis, Miss Cadabra. All we can do is wait for more information.’
Nevertheless, Amanda could not contain her curiosity or her impatience. ‘But if we’re supposed to work out what’s going on with this peculiar family, if we’re supposed to solve the murder of Lord Dowrkampyer —’
‘We’re going to need a lot more data. I agree with you. But all we can do is wait for Mike to supply it,’ he replied patiently.
Amanda sighed. ‘True.’ However, her mind wandered into even more realms of speculation. ‘You know how you were saying that there’s more to Uncle Mike than you imagined?’
‘Yes.’
‘Maybe there’s much more.’
‘How do you mean?’ asked Thomas.
‘Well ... you don’t think ... he could be the Wicc’Lord, do you?’
Trelawney recalled that it was his father who had told him of such an individual:
‘The Wicc’L
ord is a person with great magical power who subtly works for good. They never enter conflict openly, but move in the shadows, tipping the balance at great need toward the light. They are our ace.’
Thomas had struggled with so far-fetched a notion. It still sounded fanciful to his ears.
‘Isn’t it more likely to be a woman, though,’ he countered, for so Kyt had told him.
Suddenly Amanda’s eyes lit up.
‘Yes, but, maybe that lady Uncle Mike first lodged with, erm … Mamm James? Maybe she was the Wicc’lord. You know how the staff of office is passed to the apprentice? What if she passed it to Uncle Mike?’
‘I suppose it’s a possibility,’ he replied doubtfully. ‘Anyway, what are you doing tomorrow?’ asked Trelawney, in an attempt to divert her thoughts.
‘Your father is kindly taking me to the Monkey Sanctuary.’ She laughed and added ruefully, ‘At least the trees there will be less of a puzzle!’
Chapter 14
Return to the House of Lucy
So, you met two members of the family and were about to meet more,’ Amanda encouraged, as they settled down for pudding.
‘That’s right. Peter suggested one I might like to encounter next ….’
***
‘How about Marielle?’ asked Peter, standing and leaning on the wall between two windows.
‘Anyone,’ Hogarth replied.
‘She can be a bit ... it’s all just persiflage though ... she’s very ... playful.’
‘Harry and Vee did say a little about each of you,’ Hogarth responded carefully.
‘Ready then?’
Marielle’s entrance was easy to spot. Mike rose instinctively. She slid onto the sofa, drawing up long legs beside her, letting her hair fall beside her face, with an amused smile. The voice was teasing.
‘So, we have a chief inspector in our midst. How do you do?’
‘How do you do, Miss er ....’
‘Marielle will do just fine. Between friends.’
The way she said ‘friends’ made it sound to Hogarth’s ears like a great deal more.
‘Thank you. Marielle.’
‘Do sit, Chief Inspector.’
‘Mike. Michael,’ he found himself saying.
She leaned back and ran a hand down her thigh as though smoothing the fabric of her clothing, yet it served only to draw attention to her legs and, somehow, every curve of her body. Marielle exuded confidence. Harry and Vee had not sufficiently prepared him, and uncharacteristically, Hogarth found himself a little off balance. Yet he also sensed that she didn’t care if he was or not. However, suddenly she became more business-like.
‘So, you’re here about the children.’
‘That’s right.
‘And you’d like the input of all of us.’
‘That would be ideal — more than ideal,’ Hogarth responded hopefully.
‘Zoe has something to say to you.’
Hogarth was not quite sure how to respond to the sudden introduction of another member of the family.
‘Oh, good.’
‘Ready?’ asked Marielle.
‘Ready’
Zoe tucked herself into one corner of the sofa, drawing her knees up to her chest. She looked at Mike as though peering out from behind a tree, like a woodland pixie.
‘Hello, Zoe,’ he said gently. ‘I’m Mike.’
‘’Lo,’ she said shortly in reply. ‘Right then. I jus’ wanna say. I doan wanna talk ’bout it. I doan mind if the ovvers do but I doan,’ she stated in a very definite, low little voice.
‘Very well, I respect your wishes,’ Hogarth replied wisely.
Zoe continued to regard him steadily. Then, as though she had reached a decision.
‘Tha’s awright, den.’ Her face became less guarded, and then she got to the point. ‘Have you got ice-cream?’
Hogarth smiled and admitted,’ No, but we can go and get some … somehow.’
There was the slightest echo of his smile on her face, together with a hint of mischief.
‘Good. I like ice-cream.’
‘So do I.’
‘I like chocolate,’ stated Zoe, with a note of challenge, tucking her hair behind her ears.
‘Me too.’
She nodded in approval. ‘Good. I fink we might get on jus’ fine.’
‘I’d like that,’ replied Hogarth, relieved to have achieved a measure of acceptance from, apparently, the most exacting member of the family.
‘You met Geoffrey?’ asked Zoe.
‘Not yet.’
‘I’ll get him. Bye!’
And she was gone.
Vee and Harry had told Mike that Geoffrey was in his mid-twenties. Peter had a slight stoop as though, at 18, he was still a little ill at ease with his height, and tended to put his hands in his pockets. However, this man stood tall, arms relaxed by his sides. Geoffrey spoke with a solemn, serene voice.
‘Greetings. Welcome.’ There was a stillness about him. The eyes were kind. Eyes as old as the hills, patient and calm. Hogarth stood up and thanked him, as they shook hands.
‘Let us sit,’ suggested Geoffrey. ‘We deliberated carefully over whether to confide in you, Mike. The decision was unanimous.’
‘Even though Zoe has some reservations?’
‘There is no need for her to talk about it. Elodie can do it. She is an able storyteller.’
‘Anyway that any of you prefer,’ Hogarth replied obligingly.
‘It is not a story for a day or an afternoon,’ Geoffrey cautioned him. ‘You are able to take time off to return, or stay for more days?’
‘I can return as often as it takes,’ Hogarth assured him rather rashly, hoping he could square it with his team back at the Parhayle Police Station.
‘Good. We can make a start today, if you so desire, Mike.’
‘I would like that. I have waited for years to learn more about what happened. Even if I have to wait until my next visit, I would still consider myself singularly fortunate and privileged,’ replied Hogarth, ceremoniously, as seemed appropriate for conversation with this man.
‘You are gracious. Your sister and brother-in-law speak highly of you. I hope to know you better.’
‘And I hope to know you all better.’
‘The story then. Elodie?’
She settled herself upright on the sofa, her hands neatly in her lap.
***
‘And so … A Tale of Three Houses commenced. To be continued tomorrow evening.’
Amanda suppressed the urge to groan.
‘Uncle Mike, this is Lucy’s story, isn’t it?’
‘It is,’ Hogarth replied.
‘So Elodie is telling it for Lucy?’
‘Yes.’
No more was forthcoming.
Amanda thanked him, they finished up, and Trelawney drove her home.
‘So,’ she recapped to the inspector, ‘we have Peter the Earnest, Zoe the Small, Elodie the Hostess-Storyteller, Marielle the playful and Geoffrey the Wise. But where, where —’
‘— in all this is Lucy?’
‘Exactly! We know it’s her house because her name is on the bell. Well, the Spanish version and surname anyway. So, she must be either around somewhere or going to turn up. I don’t know how you can be so patient,’ Amanda marvelled.
‘It’s part of a policeman’s lot. The story of what we need to establish as the truth, or as near to it as possible, can emerge only over time, and sometimes that’s an exceedingly long time. Look at the Cardiubarn Case.’
‘Good point,’ acknowledged Amanda. ‘You’ve had a lot of practice then.’ She smiled. ‘And I suspect you have a natural talent too, Inspector.’
Trelawney chuckled. ‘About that, I’m not so sure. But it’s only until tomorrow evening. Meanwhile, what are you looking forward to for tomorrow?’
‘Looe Island, if the weather is fine.’
Chapter 15
A Tale of Three Houses
Much as Amanda enjoyed the trip to the island, it was dif
ficult to keep her mind off the strange saga Hogarth was unfolding. She was counting the hours until she and Trelawney were back in Mike’s sitting-room, ready to hear the next instalment. At last it came.
‘Three houses,’ she could not resist prompting.
Hogarth smiled. ‘Just so ….’
***
Elodie settled herself comfortably, feet together, hands in her lap, tucked her hair behind one ear, and turned her clear eyes upon Hogarth.
‘Have I made the tea as you like? Not too much milk, I hope?’
‘Just right, thank you Elodie, and I do appreciate the Hobnobs too.’
She smiled a smile of genuine pleasure, like a child who had got a gold star.
Elodie began. ‘I’ll have to tell everyone’s part. Is that ok?’
‘Yes, of course.’
She inhaled and began,
‘This is a tale of three houses. Perhaps some might say three great houses. Three great houses upon the Moor.’
‘Bodmin?’
‘That’s right. Now only two remain, do they not?’
‘You are speaking of Flamgoyne, Cardiubarn Hall and the old schoolhouse that was once the residence of the Dowrkampyers?’ asked Hogarth. ‘The house that burned down some time ago, leaving only two others standing?’
‘Yes,’ responded Elodie.
‘Dowrkampyer. An unusual name,’ he remarked.
‘There’s a legend that goes with it. Would you like to hear it?’
‘Please.’ Hogarth added sugar to his tea and stirred, as Elodie commenced.
‘I can’t say it speaks at all highly of the family founder, but this is how it goes. Long, long ago, the first of that name was deciding where to build his mansion. He took a liking to the land by Dozmary Pool. The farmer who owned it also made his living from a drink made from local herbs and the water of the Pool. The man offered the farmer a good price but was refused, for it was the farmer’s livelihood. So, the man took out his sword and struck the farmer down where he stood. The man took his name from what he called the Pool thereafter: water — dowr — of the champion – kampyer: Dowrkampyer.’ Elodie took a sip of tea.