Lord James Harrington and the Cornish Mystery

by Lynn Florkiewicz

  Beth was quick to announce that she’d been introduced to Errol Flynn about ten years previously. ‘He was a dream. I wanted to hug him.’

  ‘And you, Lord Harrington?’

  ‘He didn’t do anything for me, I’m afraid.’

  They laughed and chatted a little about films and television programmes. It transpired that Cardew had got his first television just the previous year. ‘I love all the detective shows, especially Murder Bag’

  ‘Probably because you love being a policeman,’ James said, trying to steer the conversation. ‘How are you getting on with all this kidnapping business? Are you any further forward?’

  Cardew groaned. ‘I don’t feel we are but that Inspector Wormstone keeps going on about small steps.’

  ‘Well, he’s right. It’s a little like a jigsaw puzzle. You put in one piece at a time and to begin with it looks a mess but slowly a picture begins to emerge.’

  ‘Yeah, I s’pose you’re right.’

  Beth brought Cardew back to the question. ‘You must be a little further forward; discounted some people and put others for more questioning.’

  He brightened. ‘Yes. Yes, we have.’

  James stirred his tea and asked if he were able to share. ‘In confidence, of course.’

  He observed Cardew wrestle a little with his duty but he knew the young man felt privileged to be having tea with a real Lord and Lady. A title did come in handy in these situations. He didn’t have to wait long.

  ‘Well, we’ve discounted all the tourists. Inspector Wormstone reckons this is a local. He said this had to be planned and it has to be someone that knows the area and where to keep ’em. Also, he said that the victims appeared to have gone voluntarily; or thought they were, so they must know each other.’

  ‘Anyone else discounted?’

  ‘Lots of the villagers. The elderly and the children; those that have physical problems or who are small. Mr Atherton, the blind man, he’s out of it. Colm and Bevis are big blokes; there’s no way that a slight person could do this let alone a blind one. He reckons it’s a man who’s capable of looking after himself.’

  James stopped him. ‘But that makes no sense at all? You’re discounting a whole group of people who could have everything to do with it. What about if it’s two people working together? It could even be Gretchen Kettel if she had a gun. People don’t argue if there’s a revolver sticking in their ribs.’

  Cardew sighed. ‘I know. I thought the same but Wormstone’s having none of it. Mind you, he’s got the benefit of London policing up his sleeve. He’s not stupid; he’s handled kidnappings and murders in the city.’

  Beth asked if Inspector Wormstone had a theory about the kidnapper. ‘You know, like a personality trait or the age-range of such a person.’

  ‘He may do. He’s been speaking to some of his contacts in London. He only shares things with me when he’s sure himself. He spoke about two kidnapping events he handled in the city and both were carried out by men.’

  James felt the exasperation rise. ‘So he’s discounting all the women.’

  Cardew gave James an incredulous stare. ‘D’you think a woman is responsible for this?’

  ‘I don’t know but I don’t think I’d be this quick to dismiss the idea.’ He prepared another scone. ‘And these incidents in London, did they involve a ransom demand? Because if they did, this is a completely different scenario. There is no ransom demand. Makes you wonder what the point of it is. Are you absolutely sure they’ve been kidnapped and not just run off?’

  Cardew confirmed that they were confident about that. ‘Colm had set his fishing nets up for the next day. Got his boat ready for an early shoot. Bevis was keen to get the market prices. It was one of the blokes’ birthdays too and they were all going down The Pilchard to celebrate.’

  ‘I understood that Colm had been thrown out of The Pilchard.’

  The young man explained that Bidevin kicked Colm out several times a year. ‘Along with a few others too. Colm gets loud and aggressive when he’s had a few. He’d crossed the line again and Bid chucked him out. He’ll let him back in. He has to. Colm and the fishermen keep him in business.’

  ‘Does Bidevin like Colm?’

  Innes pulled a face. ‘He puts up with him. Colm gets lippy and he insulted Bid’s mum a couple of years ago. And every so often, the business about the recipe comes up.’

  James asked if Wormstone had discounted that.

  ‘There’s no substance to the allegation, nothing to suggest it’s anything to do with that. But I know Bid gets fed up with him. He’ll serve him and take his money but that’s it.’

  ‘Does Inspector Wormstone really have no idea?’

  ‘At the moment, he’s looking at the fishermen. There’s about twenty of ’em and it’s taking some time to sort the wheat from the chaff. They’re very insular and they close ranks.’

  ‘What motive would the fishermen have?’

  Cardew hesitated and then leaned forward. ‘Colm and Bevis were both in debt to a fisherman called Johnny Sepp. He’s a Penzance man who runs poker games. They owed Johnny around forty pound each which is a lot of money for them. We’ve had the fishermen in for questioning and around half a dozen of them are part of this gambling ring.’

  ‘Is Enoch involved?’

  Cardew sat up with a start. ‘Enoch Pengilly? I don’t think so, no. Why d’you ask?’

  James waved the question aside. ‘He’s big enough to overpower the men that went missing and seems a pretty bad-tempered individual. Would he be owed money? Perhaps he lent money to Colm and Bevis.’

  Beth added that this could be why Enoch was in such a bad mood.

  Cardew said that Enoch was always in a bad mood. ‘It’s his way. But getting back to your thoughts, your Lordship, Enoch has a code of conduct in his life and it don’t include gambling. He’s as tight as they come so he wouldn’t lend it either. We normally have a book open when we do the pancake race through the town and he won’t even contribute to that so I can’t imagine him betting on poker.’

  ‘What does this Johnny Sepp have to say for himself?’

  A shrug. ‘Nothing. He has a strong alibi and he says he’s set up a weekly pay back for the pair of them. He’s adamant that he’s stopped ’em both from playing until they’ve paid their debts.’

  ‘How can he afford to do that?’

  ‘He’s a fisherman, your Lordship, but not in the sense of one fisherman and his boat. He owns a fleet of fishing boats and married well. We’re trying to establish if Colm and Bevis owed some of their mates money.’

  ‘But if this is to do with money, why hasn’t there been a ransom demand?’

  Beth restocked the tea pot with a jug of hot water. ‘The villagers suspect Hilda Roscarrock. Why’s that?’

  ‘She’s a strong, assertive woman who does occasionally say bad things about the men of the village.’

  ‘Bad things?’

  ‘Colm and Bevis are men’s men; well, a number of men around here are. They speak their mind, can sometimes swear and be aggressive and Hilda puts them in their place. I’ve seen her stand up to Colm and Bevis a few times; when they’re with their wives. And Enoch. Tears strips off of ’em.’

  ‘Good Lord. Do they not retaliate? Enoch’s wife appeared a little hesitant to contradict him when we came across them.’

  ‘They’re different outside the house though, aren’t they?’ He let out a laugh. ‘Can you imagine Hilda kidnapping two beefy blokes – anyway, what would she do with them?’

  ‘How many villagers own a car?’

  ‘Ah, yes, that’s another thing. The Inspector’s discounted anyone without a car.’

  Another stab of exasperation hit James. ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, they’d need a car, wouldn’t they?’

  ‘Not necessarily.’ James went on to detail how a simple invitation for a pint could lure someone away. ‘Do you have a pharmacy here with sleeping draughts or anything? They could have been drugged and be sit
ting in a cellar somewhere.’

  Cardew assured him that the doctor and the pharmacist had been questioned and they’d taken stock of their supplies. ‘Nothing is missing and the only people on sleeping pills are some of the women.’

  James shifted in his chair. ‘Do you know which women?’

  ‘Yeah, Debra Allan – she works in the pharmacy, Evelyn Fiske, Mrs Johnson up on the hill, Edith Pengilly. I think that’s it.’ He gave them an urgent look. ‘Don’t you be telling the Inspector I told you that.’ He checked his watch. ‘I’m going to take a meander back to the village.’ He held his hands up. ‘No, no, don’t get up. It’s only a couple of miles and all downhill too. Will we see you at the next parade?’

  James confirmed they’d be there. ‘Before you go, could you tell me if you have any information about Jonah Quinn’s background?’

  The young man thought for a second. ‘Nothing. Why, do you know something?’

  ‘No but I’ll let you know if I do. By the way, are there any ships moored off the coast at the moment; or an island to the south there.’

  ‘No islands, no. May be a ship waiting to get into Penzance or up to Plymouth. Why?’

  ‘I noticed signals the last few nights; intermittent lights as if someone were sending a message.’

  Cardew gave him a perplexed look and shrugged. ‘No idea, I’m afraid. See you tomorrow.’

  They watched as the young man sauntered away along the cliff-tops.

  ‘This Inspector chap appears very quick to discount people, don’t you think Beth.’

  ‘I do. I know George said he’s an excellent detective but do you think all that business with the murdered child affected him more than he’s letting on? I’m not qualified in such matters but I’d be delving a little more into Hilda’s history if the villagers are setting these rumours in motion. Gossip is a dreadful thing but sometimes they have an ounce of fact about them.’

  ‘And why is he so quick to discount the women?’

  Beth reminded him that Wormstone didn’t appear to confirm things to Innes until he was sure. ‘Perhaps he has evidence that suggests a man.’

  ‘Perhaps. When you’re at the WI tonight, see what you can glean from the women there. If the men were drugged, I could quite easily see how a woman would be responsibile.’

  ‘A woman scorned?’

  James turned to her. ‘D’you know what, Beth, that’s exactly what this appears to be. This isn’t to do with money. If it was, the kidnapper would have demanded a ransom. We need to establish the underlying reason for those men going missing and a woman scorned is a good start.’

  The farmer’s wife appeared at the table. ‘Everything all right?’

  ‘The best scones I’ve had in a long time.’

  ‘Heavenly,’ Beth added. ‘Your scones had a wonderful vanilla taste through them. I presume you use an extract of some kind.’

  She offered to give them the recipe. ‘I get lots of requests so I got a few printed off. Hold on a moment and I’ll go and get one.’

  When she returned, James asked the same question about the lights. Her reaction faltered before telling him that no, she didn’t know what they’d be. But James had seen a flicker of alarm that unnerved him.

  They took a slow drive across the hilltops toward Polpennarth. The skies had cleared completely and a warm breeze had replaced the slight chill from earlier. James breathed in the fresh sea air and looked back over the last two days. What was the matter with this village? Cryptic comments from Gretchen, volatile fishermen, fearful wives, an eccentric on the moors and strange lights out to sea. Most peculiar. He wondered whether fellow tourists had formed the same impression of the village. Probably not. They were simply enjoying a leisurely holiday and he couldn’t imagine any of them asking questions about the local crime. He’d have to see what the night’s enquiries would bring.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The WI gathered at seven o’clock and James strolled with Beth until they reached the meeting place. He pecked her on the cheek with a promise to meet her in a couple of hours. Checking his watch, he still had fifteen minutes before meeting Stephen so made his way along the harbour wall where he’d seen pleasure boats available for hire. He stopped half-way along where several craft were moored. A young lady, around seventeen, was securing the boats and closing the rental hut for the day.

  ‘We’re closed now. If you wanna hire a boat, you’ll have to come back tomorrow.’

  ‘Would you allow an excursion later this evening?’

  Her brow knitted together. ‘Tonight? What d’you wanna go out tonight for? Pitch dark out there and the current might catch you unawares. Anyway, we’re closed. Closed at six o’clock and no-one’s ’ere after that.’

  ‘Sorry, what’s your name?’

  ‘Lisa.’

  ‘Well, Lisa, I’m happy to pay double if you’re happy to oblige. I’ll be ten, fifteen minutes at the most. Good profit for you.’

  ‘Double! You got more money than sense, you have. I’ll do it for double, so long as you’re not going out to sea. My dad’ll knock me senseless if he finds out.’

  ‘I’m literally poodling along the coastline, following the promenade. Be back before you know it. I’m used to sailing so I’m pretty sure I can handle one of these.’

  She scrutinised him. ‘Fifteen minutes you say.’

  James nodded with a reassurance that he wouldn’t leave the bay.

  ‘What time?’

  ‘Ten fifty-five.’

  ‘That’s a bit precise ain’t it? What you gonna do?’

  ‘Nothing for you to worry about. Your boat will be well looked after. This is about me satisfying my curiosity about something, that’s all.’

  ‘You pay me before you go out.’

  James promised he would. To his relief, the girl agreed to the unusual request. Thank goodness the daughter had been left in charge. He had a feeling that her father would have been less inclined to do business.

  A few minutes later, he met Stephen and they grabbed a bench on the terrace outside The Pilchard Inn. Luke and Mark were within sight playing on the swings in the small garden at the side. Their small dog, Radley, dozed by Stephen’s feet, worn out by the boys’ play. In front of them were three pints of local ale.

  ‘C-come on, James, who are w-we expecting. You keep looking at your watch. W-will I know them?’

  ‘You will. He should be here by now.’

  As if awaiting his entrance, a familiar voice called out. ‘Oi, oi.’

  Stephen’s jaw fell. ‘Bert?’

  Bert slapped him on the back and shook hands with James. ‘The very man, vicar, the very man.’ He sat down next to James and grinned. ‘I’m ’ere for the night.’ He picked up his dimpled pint jug. ‘What’s this?’

  James held his own up and announced that this was ale brewed in Polpennarth. ‘Rather tasty too. Drink up and tell us all. I’m presuming from your message that you’re not empty handed?’

  ‘E-empty handed? What message?’

  Stephen looked bewildered, so James enlightened him. ‘I got in touch with Bert a couple of evenings ago and he left a message with the Simms to say he’d much to tell.’

  Stephen looked at James, then Bert, and back to James. ‘About what?’

  Bert glanced behind him. The nearest occupied bench was some distance away. He shifted forward. ‘Jonah Quinn.’

  ‘Oh. Is there s-something to tell?’

  ‘This Jonah Quinn bloke was a banker in the city of London; quite high up by all accounts.’

  James interrupted him to ask where he was getting this information from. ‘It’s not hearsay is it?’

  Bert baulked at the suggestion. ‘My source is someone who worked alongside him.’

  ‘Good Lord, how on earth did you find him?’

  ‘By being nosy, Jimmy boy. Anyway, never mind about that, the point is I gets talking to this bloke; goes by the name of Leslie Saunders. He worked with Jonah Quinn for about a year and he wasn’t everyone�
��s favourite person but this Saunders bloke got on with ’im all right.’

  Stephen reminded James they already knew he didn’t get on with his boss. Bert gestured for him to stop.

  ‘They came to blows in the Olde Cheshire Cheese’.

  ‘Th-the what?’

  James explained that this was one of the oldest pubs in London. After the Great Fire in 1666, it had been one of the first to be rebuilt. ‘It’s full of nooks and crannies and is incredibly big once you get inside.’

  ‘It was in one of those nooks and crannies that Jonah Quinn stabbed his boss.’

  James stared in horror and mouthed ‘Stabbed his boss?’ back to his friend. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Sure as I’m sitting ’ere drinking this beer. It weren’t a serious attack but Jonah had drunk too much and decided he’d had enough. He apparently lunged at him and caught him in the side. No organs damaged; just a lot o’ blood.’

  ‘Was he charged?’ said James.

  ‘No mate. Coppers gave ’im a ticking off. The boss didn’t wanna press charges but it was on the understanding that Jonah leave.’

  ‘D-do you know why they didn’t get on?’

  ‘Yeah. Jonah was seeing the boss’s daughter. Things took a turn for the worse when he convinced her to take a bus ride with him.’

  James didn’t like the sound of where this was going. He felt increasingly uneasy as Bert detailed how Jonah and the young woman boarded a bus and she never went home that night.

  ‘Stayed away three nights. The boss reported her missing and he blamed Jonah; accused him of kidnapping her. The police went round to his digs but she weren’t there.’

  ‘Where was she?’

  ‘She’d got the bus back home that day but decided to stay at a friend’s place. She was a sulky girl who wanted to put her dad through it for not liking Jonah.’

  James scratched his head and knew he must have looked puzzled. ‘Are you saying this girl was quite young?’

  His friend nodded. ‘She was seventeen and this Jonah bloke was in his forties. Would that be right?’

  Stephen confirmed that Jonah was certainly the wrong side of fifty now so what Bert said had made sense.