Hawke's Tor (22 page)

‘I
T WAS VERY kind of you to offer Zillah an opportunity to study with your artist friend.' Talwyn made the comment as they stood together at the window of her home. Outside, Zillah stood at the garden gate holding the reins of her horse as she talked to Amos and Tom.

‘I would not have made such an offer had I not been convinced of her talent,' Verity replied. ‘She has much to learn before she can become a professional artist, but I am very impressed with her and feel my friend will be too. Besides, they will provide support for each other along the way. The world of painters is much more relaxed about having women among their number than possibly any other vocation, but such an attitude is not fully shared by all members of the august academy in London which has the power to make or break an artist, but Zillah impresses me very much.'

‘She also impresses Tom,' Talwyn said, as Amos turned away from the other two and made his way back to the house while Tom began to walk along the lane with Zillah, the gypsy girl leading her pony.

Fully aware that senior police officers laid down strict rules about the company kept by their men, even to the extent of giving, or withholding permission for them to marry, approval
not being given until full enquiries had been made into the suitability of the future bride, Verity said, ‘They make an interesting couple and I rather fancy the chief constable would look more favourably upon one of his officers courting an up-and-coming artist than a gypsy girl.'

 

Walking along the lane with Zillah, Tom thought she was happier than he had ever known her to be but, of course, the first time they had met she had been concerned for her missing father and until today little had happened to cheer her.

‘Do you think Miss Pendleton really will speak to her friend about me and my drawings?'

Despite first names being used by Talwyn when introducing them, Zillah had been slightly in awe of the Hawkes' fashionably dressed and obviously well-bred guest.

‘If Verity says she will do something you can rely on it being done. She has been a great help to Amos and me on a couple of occasions.'

‘She is a beautiful woman, I am surprised she isn't married.'

‘Verity is totally dedicated to her work. She and Miss Nightingale are determined to change the image of nursing … and they seem to be succeeding.'

‘Have you known her for very long?'

Tom realized with a thrill that Zillah was surreptitiously trying to sound out whether there was a romantic link between himself and Verity. ‘I first met her only a short time ago, when she came to Cornwall in a bid to recruit suitable girls to train as Nightingale nurses. She was staying with Amos and Talwyn then. I agree with you that she's not the type of woman you meet very often, but then I don't move in the same social circles as Verity Pendleton. She has even met Queen Victoria on a couple of occasions I
believe. It came about because of the excellent work she did nursing with Miss Nightingale during the Crimean War.'

Zillah knew nothing of either Florence Nightingale or the Crimean War, but she knew about Queen Victoria and was suitably impressed. She was also satisfied that the huge social gulf separating Verity and Tom precluded any romantic link between them.

‘Dado would have been proud to know someone else likes my drawings. He always encouraged me to do more of them, saying that one day we would make a lot of money selling them.'

‘I'm quite sure you will. I'd be happy to buy one of them from you right now and I don't doubt Amos and Talwyn would too.'

‘
You'll
never have to give me money for any of my drawings, Tom, however well I do with them. Even if I become famous one day you'll only have to say you liked one of them and I'll give it to you. If it wasn't for you, Miss Pendleton would never have seen any of my work and I would never have met her.'

‘I'm pleased she recognized your talents, Zillah, just as I did the very first time I saw your sketches, when they were with the photographs that were taken at Minions. You ought to paint a self-portrait, most artists do at some time or another. If you did that I would love to have it to keep.'

They walked for a while without speaking before Tom said, ‘With Verity as your patron I'm sure you are going to become a very successful artist, Zillah, but I'm glad her artist friend is coming to live in Cornwall. It means you're still going to be here … for a while, anyway. It means I should be able to see you sometimes … if you're not too busy with your new life, of course.'

He added the last sentence hurriedly as she turned her head sharply to look at him but he was delighted when she said, ‘I'll never be too busy to see you, no matter where I am, or what I'm
doing. You've been kind to me at a time when I desperately needed someone, yet you've never given me a reason – an
honest
reason – why.'

Encouraged by her gratitude, Tom said, ‘All the reasons I've given you
have
been honest ones, even if they haven't said everything about the way I feel. If you really want to know, I find myself thinking about you on many occasions when I should be thinking about something else. If I leave the Bodmin police headquarters knowing I am going to meet you I'm as excited as a young boy setting out on a special treat but if I haven't seen you for any length of time I'm thoroughly miserable.'

Zillah was still looking at him and now she said, ‘You've never before said anything about the way you really
feel
towards me, only the way you should
behave
towards me because you're a policeman. Why?'

‘Because you might have been offended and said you didn't want to see me again. I just didn't want to risk that happening.'

Speaking quietly and seriously, Zillah said, ‘I wouldn't have done either of those things, Tom, and I still wouldn't.'

They were out of view from the Hawkes' house now and when he kissed her she responded with a passion that excited and aroused him in a manner he had never before known. It might have continued had the pony she was still holding on a rein not pulled her away in its bid to reach grass on the verge at the side of the lane.

Regretting that the embrace had not lasted longer, Tom said shakily, ‘Will I see you again, Zillah … soon?'

‘I hope so, Tom. You know where I am living and I never go very far from the farm.'

‘I'll make it as soon as I can … and hopefully bring you news on what we will have learned about the shawl.'

Reminding Zillah of her dead father effectively dampened the passion that had been aroused in her and the moment had gone, leaving them both with a feeling of confused embarrassment.

‘I'd better be getting back to Gassick now but come and see me there … soon.'

His promise followed her as she rode away and before she passed from his view she turned and waved.

It was a somewhat bemused but light-hearted man who slowly returned along the lane to the Hawkes' home.

With the others, Verity watched him as he ambled towards them, deep in thought and she said, ‘Whether or not either of them realize it, those two are very much in love … Zillah for the very first time I should think. I am not at all certain I am doing the right thing by taking her away.'

‘You are doing
exactly
the right thing,' Amos replied, ‘There can be no future for them the way things are. The chief constable would never agree to allow Tom to marry a gypsy girl. You've given her an opportunity that seldom comes the way of a girl in her situation. When she succeeds, as I believe she will, and becomes a fully recognized artist instead of an orphaned gypsy, the chief constable will think differently. If their love proves strong enough to survive the parting and the change in Zillah's circumstances they could have a very happy future together.'

A
MOS AND TOM set off on horseback from the Bodmin police headquarters soon after dawn the following morning, excited at the thought that this could be the day when they arrested the murderer of Karensa Morgan, baby Albert and Jed Smith.

There had been little opportunity to discuss the full significance of Zillah's information the previous day because after lunch, during which, by mutual consent, the murder case was not discussed, Verity needed to catch a train in order to return to Plymouth. Amos had suggested that Tom should deliver her to the Bodmin Road railway station in the wagonette and after returning the vehicle, take the opportunity to have an early night in order that they might set off together at first light and cross the moor to the Berriow Bridge home of George and Martha Kendall. They would be able to discuss their tactics along the way.

Once clear of the county town the two men were riding side by side when Amos said, ‘Zillah is a very observant young girl; if this business of the shawl leads us to the killer I think she should receive some recognition for her part in it.'

‘I'm not at all certain she would want that,' Tom replied.
‘Helping the police won't make her very popular with the gypsies and if it turns out that George Kendall is our man it means he must have been given a false alibi by the miners he was working with. Any action we decide to take against them for aiding and abetting him would certainly result in a backlash against her by the mining community. The knowledge she has helped bring her father's killer to justice will be enough for her … much as I believe she deserves something more.'

After thinking about what he said, Amos agreed. ‘You're probably right and you know her better than I do.' Giving Tom a searching look, he added, ‘How well
do
you know her, Tom?'

‘Not nearly as well as I would like to, although time could rectify that if I can get to see her occasionally when she has moved down west with this artist friend of Verity, but of course that will only happen if things work out and the friend offers tuition to her.'

‘Do you think things could become really serious between the two of you … even as far as marriage?'

‘It has crossed my mind but I haven't said anything to her yet, why do you ask?'

‘Because if you and Zillah do reach that stage once she's taken up painting seriously, I could arrange for you to be promoted and sent down that way so you would be able to see more of each other.'

‘That's a very generous offer, Amos, and I appreciate it, but first let's see what comes of Verity's recommendation to her friend. Right now I suppose we need to work out what we're going to do when we reach Berriow Bridge. Do you think George Kendall will turn out to be our killer?'

‘It seems highly likely, Tom. Zillah is absolutely certain the Kendall baby is being wrapped in the shawl she made for baby
Albert, so unless Kendall has a very good story about how he came by it, he's not long for this world.'

 

George Kendall
did
have a good story and it was to be a frustrating day for the two policemen.

Kendall was in the house with his family when they reached Berriow Bridge and at first he showed deep resentment at their intrusion into his home. However, resentment turned to dismay when told by Amos there was reason to believe he
was
involved in the murder of Kerensa Morgan and the others.'

‘We've already been through all this,' he protested, ‘and I've proved I was working a thousand feet below grass when she was murdered. The men I was working with told you so.'

‘They did,' Amos agreed, ‘and if they lied for you they too will be in serious trouble.'

‘They
didn't
lie,' Martha Kendall broke into the conversation. ‘The wives of two of 'em will confirm that. They were working as bal maidens when their men came up to surface in the morning; they told me George was with them.'

‘I believe you've just had a baby boy,' Tom said. ‘Where is he now?'

‘Out the back, in his cradle.'

‘Can I see him?'

‘Why?' Martha wanted to know.

‘I'll tell you that after we've seen him. Will you go and fetch him, please?'

Suddenly fearful, she said, ‘You're not going to take him away? George is behaving much better since the baby was born, he's always wanted a son….'

‘We'd just like to see him,' Amos declared, sympathetically. ‘There's no question of anyone taking him from you and if you
prefer you needn't bring him here, Sergeant Churchyard will go with you to look at him.'

While Tom was out of the room with Martha, George Kendall demanded, ‘What's this all about. What has the baby got to do with anything?'

‘You'll find out soon enough. Ah! Here they are now, that didn't take very long.'

As he was speaking Tom re-entered the room with Martha. She was carrying a very sleepy baby … and Tom was holding a shawl.

Nodding at Amos, Tom said, ‘It's definitely the one, see…?' He held it up to the light from the window but it took Amos a few moments to make out the initials ‘AM' cleverly worked into the crocheted pattern of the shawl.

‘It certainly is.' Addressing Martha, Amos asked, ‘Where did you get the shawl, Mrs Kendall?'

Puzzled, she replied, ‘George brought it home the day after the baby was born. Why do you want to know, it's not stolen or anything, is it? Whatever else George might have done I know he'd never steal anything, not from anyone.'

Instead of replying, Amos turned to her husband. ‘Is that right, you brought this shawl home for the baby.'

‘Yes, but what's this all about? Like Martha told you, I never pinched it, or anything.'

Holding the shawl up to show him, Amos said, ‘This is the shawl that was wrapped around Albert Morgan when his mother was murdered and he went missing. In fact, if you look at it closely there seem to be a couple of stains on it that might well have been bloodstains until someone did their best to wash them off.'

His mouth dropping open in astonishment, George Kendall looked at the two policemen in disbelief. ‘But that can't be. It just can't!'

Amos's response was to say, ‘George Kendall, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Kerensa Morgan, Albert Morgan and of Jed Smith … handcuff him, Tom.'

‘I know nothing about their murders … I swear it!' George Kendall protested. ‘If you're arresting me because of the shawl, I'll tell you where I got it. It was given to me by Alfie Kittow, landlord of the Ring o' Bells!'

 

Accompanied by a still-handcuffed George Kendall, Amos and Tom walked their horses uphill from Berriow Bridge to North Hill village, little more than a half-mile away, the shawl which had prompted the arrest of Kendall tucked safely in Tom's saddle-bag.

As they approached the village, Kendall held his handcuff-linked wrists out and said, ‘Do you have to take me into the Ring o' Bells like this? I've only been allowed back in there since the baby's been born, anyone who sees me is going to think I've gone back to my old ways again.'

‘If you're telling us the truth you'll be able to put them right,' Amos replied, ‘but the Ring o' Bells might not have a landlord after we've heard what he has to say about the shawl.'

‘You'd better hope he doesn't deny all knowledge of it,' Tom commented grimly. ‘If he does, the chances are that you'll have had your last drink in this world.'

The thought of such an eventuality proved sufficient to keep Kendall silent for the remainder of the walk to the public house and, as it happened, the premises were not yet open for business.

Alfie Kittow had not been out of his bed for very long and he was in the tap-room, where a strong smell of beer and stale tobacco lingered from the previous evening's activities. The slate
floor had been newly cleaned and dried and the landlord was spreading fresh sawdust about the room.

He looked up from his task with an expression of annoyance on his face which changed to a forced smile of welcome when he saw Amos. It turned to astonishment when George Kendall followed, his handcuffed hands held out before him.

‘What's going on … what's Kendall been up to now, and why bring him in here?'

‘We've just been to Kendall's home, Alfie, to locate a shawl we'd been told his baby was being wrapped in … That's it Sergeant Churchyard is holding.' He indicated Tom who had been the third man through the tap-room doorway, ‘Have you ever seen it before?'

‘Not that I can recall,' came the reply.

It caused Amos to look sharply at Kendall who appeared stunned by the landlord's denial. After a couple of failed attempts at speech, the miner cried, ‘You
must
remember, Alfie. You gave me the shawl along with other baby clothes when Martha had our baby boy … You
have
to remember!'

‘Oh, was it among them? I remember giving you a bundle of baby clothes but I honestly don't remember what was in it.'

‘What do you mean, you don't remember?' This from Amos. ‘I think you'd better remember, and quickly if you don't want to share Kendall's handcuffs and join him in a cell in Bodmin police station.'

‘Why? All I did was give him a bundle of baby clothes because I thought him and Martha could do with them, having another baby in the family, I didn't know what was there. But what's so special with the shawl anyway, was it stolen from someone important?'

‘You admit to giving him a bundle of baby clothes, yet expect
us to believe you had no idea what was in it?' Amos was sceptical.

‘It's the sort of thing we do here in the village. If you have something you don't want and there's someone in need of it, you give it to them. But what's so special about this shawl?'

As the two policemen exchanged glances, George Kendall blurted out, ‘For God's sake tell them, Alfie! It's the shawl Kerensa's baby was wrapped up in when she was murdered and he went missing.'

The blood drained from Kittow's unshaven face and he felt for the table behind him for support. ‘I swear I didn't know that! How could I? I was given the bundle of clothes for Florrie's baby – our baby – but I knew she wouldn't want second-hand clothes for him so I took them with good grace and when George and Martha's baby was born I thought they would do for them.'

Amos felt inclined to believe the inn-keeper, but he asked, ‘So where did the clothes come from? Who gave them to you?'

‘They came from old Bessie Harris, the midwife. She's always being given baby clothes and passes them on to them who she feels is most in need of them. Me and Florrie have never been in need of anyone's charity, but Bessie thought she was doing us a good turn and it would have been churlish to refuse them, so I took them and passed them on to George and Martha …' Breathlessly, he added, ‘Thank the Lord I've agreed a sale for the Ring o' Bells, the sooner I leave this place the happier I'll be!'