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Authors: E.V. Thompson

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Churchyard and Hawke (11 page)

BOOK: Churchyard and Hawke
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When the burglar re-entered the manor-house Amos nudged his companion and, quickly covering the thirty or so paces to the partly-opened door, they went inside. It was unfortunate that as they entered the hall, one of the burglars was coming down the stairs carrying a pillow-case full of objects slung over one shoulder.

Startled to see them, he recovered quickly, shouting, ‘Coppers . . . Get out quick!’ to his unseen accomplice. Then, swinging the laden pillow-case from his shoulder he hurled it at Amos and the constable before leaping down the remaining three stairs to the hall and bolting through an inner doorway, heading away from the hallway.

The pillow-case caught the constable on the shoulder and knocked him off-balance, but Amos succeeded in dodging it and sprinted in pursuit of the burglar who was apparently heading for the back door. He fervently hoped the second constable had followed the instructions that had been given to him.

He had. What was more, after entering the house he had sensibly closed the kitchen door behind him and slipped the bolt into place. He was now standing before the door, baton in hand.

The burglar who had seen Amos and the other constable ran into the kitchen expecting the door to be already open and was halfway across the room before realizing his mistake. There were a number of kitchen knives hanging on hooks from a shelf on a huge kitchen dresser and the burglar snatched at a wide-bladed chopping knife but the constable was ahead of him in both thought and deed. Even as the loop attached to the handle of the sharp-bladed knife cleared the hook, the constable’s truncheon struck the burglar violently across the back of his hand, causing him to cry out in pain and drop the would-be weapon.

Staggering back, the burglar collided with Amos who had rushed into the kitchen behind him and both fell to the floor. Before the intruder could rise to his feet the resourceful constable had dropped down on top of him and with a knee in his back twisted his arms behind him. Ignoring the burglar’s cries that the truncheon blow had broken bones in his hand, he deftly handcuffed him.

Meanwhile, there was the sound of a commotion coming from the hallway Amos had just left. Running back to the scene he saw the second constable grappling with the other intruder. As he arrived the burglar threw the constable heavily against a mahogany side-table and ran for the open front door. Before he could reach it Amos brought him to the floor with a flying tackle. The two men grappled on the floor, both throwing punches whenever possible until the constable recovered from his heavy fall and joined the fray, making the outcome inevitable.

When the constable who had showed such initiative in the kitchen brought his still bitterly complaining prisoner into the hall both prisoners were ordered to sit on the floor with their handcuffed wrists behind them.

‘Nice work.’ Amos said to the two constables. ‘One of you stay here with these two - and don’t let them get up from the floor. The other can come with me and find out what they’ve done with the old couple who were looking after the house.’

‘I’ll stay with them.’ said the constable who had been struck with the bag of booty. Drawing his truncheon, he added, ‘My shoulder’s still painful, so if they so much as twitch I’m liable to pay them back - with interest.’

Satisfied the two burglars would not escape Amos lit two small table lamps. Taking the other constable with him, he set off in search of the two aged servants known to have been in the house.

The elderly housekeeper was the first to be located. She was in bed in an attic room, with the bedclothes drawn up to her chin and when the two policemen entered the room she looked terrified.

Identifying themselves, Amos said, ‘The two men who broke into the house are handcuffed and in custody downstairs, but how are you?’

‘I’ll be better when someone’s untied me and I’m able to get up out of this bed.’ Said the woman, who gave her name as Nan Hodge.

The constable with Amos moved to pull back the bedclothes but the women said, ‘Just take the clothes down far enough to untie my arms, I’ll do the rest, I’ve had enough humiliation for one night. The way them two men left me wasn’t decent although they thought it highly amusing . . . but have you found Harold . . . Mister Hockin, he’s the footman?’

‘Not yet, where is he?’

‘At the end of the passage . . . least, that’s where his room is, but I think he heard me hollering when them two burglars came into me. When one ‘em went out I heard Harold shouting and it sounded as though there was a bit of a fight. I haven’t heard a sound from him since then.’

Amos and the constable exchanged meaningful glances. Both burglars had proved themselves to be violent men. If an elderly servant had tried to prevent them from robbing the house . . .!

‘Stay here and do what you can to help the housekeeper. I’ll see if I can find the footman.’

The door at the end of the passageway was closed and Amos opened it cautiously, fearful of what he might find inside. The room was smaller than that of the housekeeper and bedclothes were thrown back in disarray, but even when he held the lamp high, Amos could see nothing of the man who was meant to occupy the room . . . then he saw blood on the pillow.

Advancing into the room, Amos heard a faint sound, that seemed to come from the other side of the bed. Advancing farther into the room, he walked around the bed and saw a man wearing a nightgown lying on the floor. He was bound and gagged with a scarf tied about the lower part of his face.

As Amos hurried towards him he trod on a light-coloured nightcap. This too was stained with blood. Fearing the worst he brought the lamp down closer to the still figure. Much to his relief, the eyes flickered open and gazed angrily up at Amos.

Amos loosened the scarf and the man spat out a handkerchief before saying shakily, ‘Whatever it is you want to know, I’m not telling you - and if I’d been twenty years younger you’d never have got the better of me like this, two of you or not . . .’

‘It’s all right, Mister Hockin, I’m Superintendent Hawke of the Cornwall constabulary. We have the two burglars downstairs, I’ll untie you now . . . but there seems to be a lot of blood around.’ are you hurt . . . ?’ While he was speaking Amos placed the lamp upon a small bedside cabinet and in its light could see bruising around one of the old man’s eyes and blood on his face.

Amos found it necessary to identify himself once again and it was not until he began untying the injured man that he succeeded in convincing the aged footman he was not one of the criminals who had attacked him.

When realization came, Harold Hockin’s first concern was for the housekeeper ‘What have they done with Nan? Is she all right?’ The footman sat up and put a hand to his ear and Amos saw it had been torn during his fight with the burglar and was the source of much of the blood. He was relieved it was nothing more serious, as it might well have been.

‘She’s unhurt, but she’s worried about you. When you feel like it we’ll go along and reassure her that you’re not seriously harmed.’

‘I’ll not let her see me in my nightshirt.’ the old man said, indignantly, ‘Clear out of my room for a few minutes and give me time to get dressed, then we’ll go along and speak to her before having a look around to see what they two rogues have been up to. It’s the first time we’ve ever had anything like this happen at Astell and Sir Nicholas isn’t going to be happy about it. It’s a great pity the government changed the law when it did, no one got the benefit of it except them who go about robbing honest folk. When I was a boy they’d have been hung for this . . . and it would have been a good riddance to both of ‘em.’

CHAPTER 16

By the time Amos departed from the ball at Laneglos, the vast majority of guests had arrived and were in the great gallery where the dancing was taking place. Nevertheless, there were a few latecomers. Among these were two men, both probably in their late twenties, whom Flora did not recognize.

Behaving impeccably, she introduced herself with a friendly smile and explained that she was checking the tickets of those she had not seen at the house in order to use the opportunity to acquaint them with what was happening and where they could locate the various facilities they might require during the course of the evening.

The two men seemed grateful for her help and one of them had even begun flirting with her mildly when the Honourable Charles Delville appeared upon the scene. He apparently obviously knew both the men well and was livid that Flora had felt it necessary to check their identities.

‘What do you think you are doing?’ He demanded. ‘These two gentlemen are personal friends of mine. You have no right whatsoever to stop and question them in this way. You will hear more of this . . . .’

His outburst startled Flora. The two men were also taken aback by his verbal attack upon the housekeeper. Coming to her defence, one of them said, ‘Steady on, old man, the young lady is merely being helpful . . . very helpful as it happens. She realized it was our first visit to your beautiful home and was acquainting us where everything we needed could be found.’

Refusing to be placated, the Honourable Charles snapped, ‘It was quite unnecessary. I will tell you all you need to know about Laneglos and you have not come here to dance the night away.’

‘Quite right, old chap,’ agreed the second of the two men, ‘We are here to relieve you of your money . . . I hope you have not lost it all before our arrival?’

‘I have enough.’ their host retorted, ‘and tonight I intend relieving you of your money, so I trust you have brought ample with you.’

Clapping a hand on his shoulder, at the same time winking surreptitiously at Flora, the young man who had defended the housekeeper factions said, ‘If you succeed in doing that it will be the first time, dear boy, but lead on - and perhaps we can collect something to drink along the way. Your Cornish roads must be among the dustiest in the land.’

‘Think yourself lucky there has not been any rain.’ The Honourable Charles replied, some of his aggression ebbing away, ‘Cornwall can also offer a traveller some of the deepest mud.’

The three men went on their way inside the house with an air of conviviality that was in sharp contrast to the Honourable Charles’s manner when he had been talking to the Laneglos housekeeper.

Aware that the arrogant young man’s outburst had shaken Flora, Tom left the corner where he had been discreetly observing the new arrivals. Coming to stand beside her, he said, ‘That’s the second time I’ve heard him carry on like that, is it the way your employers usually speak to you?’

‘Fortunately he is not one of my employers.’ Flora replied, ‘If he was I would have left Laneglos a long time ago. As I told you when you last met him, the Honourable Charles is Lady Hogg’s youngest child by her first husband. Her other children are living abroad and now the Honourable Charles is living in London we don’t often see him at Laneglos, thank goodness.’

Aware she was being less than loyal to the family by whom she was employed, Flora added, ‘But he’s been drinking . . . and drink affects some worse than others.’

‘So I’ve noticed.’ Tom commented, ‘but having too much to drink is no more of an excuse for being rude and boorish them it is for committing a crime.’

‘Well, if it makes him happy for a while, then so be it. I don’t think he is going to have a very enjoyable night. The two men are here to play cards with him and it sounds as though they are used to winning. I am not surprised. The Honourable Charles’s valet came to Laneglos with him and he is more talkative than a personal servant should be. He told the butler that Charles gambles far more money than he can afford. It seems he has also told the valet he might soon have to dispense with his services because he can’t afford to retain him . . . but I am doing exactly the same as his valet! I should not be gossiping about the family to anyone.’

‘I doubt if the Honourable Charles has such high principles.’ Tom said, ‘When I first met him I recall you saying something about his behaviour towards the women servants. That is certainly not the behaviour expected from a gentleman.’

‘Did I say that? Well, I wasn’t telling you anything that isn’t common knowledge far beyond Laneglos. There has been more than one young servant girl leave Laneglos in tears because of him - and most have wished they had left much sooner.’

‘It would seem that Honourable is something of a misnomer for the son of your employer.’ Tom suggested, ‘From what I’ve seen and heard of him he seems to be a thoroughly nasty character.’

‘He is not my favourite man.’ Flora admitted, ‘but I would rather we changed the subject now . . . It would seem you and Superintendent Hawke have succeeded in keeping all the London criminals away from the ball. You must be well satisfied with yourselves.’

‘We’ve done pretty well.’ Tom admitted, ‘but neither of us will be fully satisfied until we are able to account for every one of them and know we have prevented them committing any crimes in Cornwall.’

‘I am sure you will succeed.’ Flora said, ‘Superintendent Hawke is very well thought of in Cornwall. When he first came down here from London a couple of years ago he solved some very nasty murders. That’s how he met his wife. She was the daughter of one of the murdered men, a schoolteacher . . . but I am sure you already know all about that?’

‘Not really,’ Tom admitted, ‘In fact I know very little about Amos Hawke, except that he was a very good detective when he was at Scotland Yard . . . and I heard about him before then, when we were both in the Royal Marines, he was commissioned in the field for bravery and put in charge of policing a captured town during the Crimean War.’

‘You were in the Royal Marines?’ Flora expressed surprise, she had thought that Tom had probably always been a policeman, ‘You couldn’t have been in for very long. . . I mean, you are not very old now and must have been a policeman for some time before coming to Cornwall.’

Tom smiled, ‘I was a Marine for ten years . . . but I was only thirteen when I joined - much the same age as Amos Hawke was when he became a marine, I believe. Then I spent four years in the Metropolitan Police before coming here. When I came to Laneglos and met you for the first time I’d only just become a Cornish policeman.’

BOOK: Churchyard and Hawke
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