Churchyard and Hawke (14 page)

Tom did not repeat the words that Amos had uttered when the message had gone out from his Bodmin headquarters,’. . . If they have not already left!’

CHAPTER 20

At least one of the Banks family was still in Cornwall at the time Enid Merryn’s body was found, He was closer to Laneglos than he would have wished to be - but in no condition to worry about it.

Just after dawn broke on the morning after Alfie and Jimmy Banks had burgled the great house they were heading north eastward in the stolen wagonette drawn by the Laneglos pony, travelling in a direction Alfie thought would be most likely to fool the constabulary.

He believed the police would expect them to head eastwards towards Devon, hoping to cross one of the bridges across the Tamar river and so enter the jurisdiction of a police force unlikely to expend too much energy seeking the apprehension of men who had robbed a Cornish manor house. Either that, or go south to the coast and take passage in any boat that could take them to safety.

Instead of taking either of these options, he intended they would cross into Devon from the north east corner of Cornwall, where there was no river border to make it difficult for them to cross undetected.

The pony and wagonette stolen from Laneglos was laden with all the items stolen from Laneglos. Pictures, silver, valuable vases and statuettes, all heaped inside the vehicle in a chaotic manner that would have caused the rightful owners to throw up their hands in horror . . . but worse was to come.

The pair were travelling through a heavily-wooded section of country bordering the estate of one of the Cornish landowners who had been to the Laneglos ball, when a deer broke from cover in front of them and bounded across the narrow lane, to disappear in woodland on the other side.

Jimmy Banks was in control of the wagonette at the time and the sudden appearance of the deer startled him and caused him to jerk involuntarily on the reins. The confused pony, already unnerved by the deer, immediately veered off the road . . . taking the wagonette with it.

Before the inexperienced driver could guide it back to safety a stout sapling came between the body of the vehicle and one of its wheels and the wagonette came to an abrupt and lop-sided halt to the accompaniment of the sound of splintering wood, throwing Alfie and Jimmy, together with much of the stolen property, out of the vehicle.

The younger of the two Banks men crashed heavily against a tree, hurting his shoulder so severely that he screamed out in pain. . . but he received no sympathy from his uncle.

Picking himself up from the soft ground where he had landed, Alfie rounded upon his nephew angrily. ‘Now look what you’ve done! You’re bloody useless! I should never have trusted you to drive the pony - or even to have come to Cornwall with the rest of us. Nothing’s gone right since you came on the scene, you’re a bleedin’ disaster.’

Jimmy was in no doubt about his uncle’s anger with him but it was not the most important thing in his life at this very moment. Seated on the ground he clutched his shoulder and rocking back and forth in pain, wailed, ‘I’ve broken something, Uncle Alfie. I think it’s me collarbone.’

‘Oh, so you’re a surgeon now, are you? Well, what do you expect me to do about it, run off to the nearest town, wherever that might be, and find a doctor for you? What shall I tell him, "Come quickly and treat my snivelling, useless nephew who’s sitting in the woods in the middle of nowhere with a cartload of swag we’ve just nicked from a mansion down the road?" Is that what you want me to do?’

‘It hurts, Uncle Alfie, it hurts like hell.’ Jimmy whined, his face contorted in pain.

‘It’ll hurt a whole lot more if the local coppers catch up with us and we’re thrown in clink. They won’t show you any sympathy, so up on your feet and help me get this lot hidden, then we’ll need to do the same with the wagonette. Come on, before someone comes along and finds us.’

The young criminal was in excruciating pain . . . but he was aware of what his violent uncle would do to him if he made no attempt to do as he was told. Climbing to his feet, he did his one-handed best to help move the valuables strewn on the woodland ground about them.

It took the two men more than half-an-hour to carry the stolen items to a spot Alfie found a short distance into the woods, where a broken but still attached branch of a tree formed a canopy over some undergrowth, where the stolen goods could be safely concealed.

Jimmy’s half-hearted contribution invoked the wrath of his uncle that intensified when they turned their attentions to the wrecked vehicle. This proved to be far more difficult to move and Jimmy’s increasingly feeble assistance provoked a stream of colourful oaths from Alfie.

Even when the wagonette was freed from the sapling that had broken the wheel they were unable to drag it farther in to the woods. Not until Alfie succeeded in securing the still frightened pony to one of the broken shafts were they able to move it, with Alfie staggering and cursing as he struggled to partly support the badly damaged small cart.

The wagonette was eventually tipped into a deep, bramble-filled hollow, where Alfie expressed the hope it would remain unnoticed until they were well on their way to London.

‘How are we going to get there?’ Alfie wailed, ‘I’m in agony with this shoulder of mine. I can’t use the arm and if I don’t get something done about it I might be crippled for life.’

‘If you get yourself caught by the law that might prove a blessing.’ Alfie replied, callously, ‘If you’re a cripple you can’t be put on the treadmill, or made to do any hard graft while you’re in jail. . . but I don’t intend getting caught, so you’d better do as I tell you. You’ll stay here with the loot, keeping out of sight of anyone who might come along the road. I’ll take the pony and see if I can pinch a cart from somewhere nearby.’

Alarmed, Jimmy said, ‘You’re not going to leave me here alone? What if you don’t come back . . . or come back and can’t find me?’

‘You’ll just have to hope I do find you - and that you don’t let anyone else find you first. Now, hide yourself in a place where you can keep an eye on the swag. It’ll give you a chance to rest that shoulder. It’s all that’s needed and you’ll be fit as a fiddle by the time I get back to you.’

When Alfie rode off on the pony, Jimmy tried to convince himself that what his uncle had told him would be so and he settled himself to await his return. . . but it was not easy.

The pain in his shoulder showed no sign of easing and he occasionally caught himself moaning aloud. There was another problem. . . he was hungry. He had not eaten for some sixteen or seventeen hours, during which time he and Alfie had expended a great deal of nervous and physical energy.

Jimmy also found the silence and the loneliness of the woods disconcerting. He was used to neither. There was always something noisy happening in Hoxton, by day or by night. The tenement house in which he lived with his mother was occupied by more people than he could count, all of whom were engaged in a wide variety of nefarious activities and one or more of them were always either coming, going, or involved in noisy or violent argument.

Here in the Cornish wood there was an awesome quietness, broken only occasionally by the unfamiliar sound of a breeze, or perhaps a bird, rustling the tree-tops, or the scuffle of some unseen creature somewhere on the woodland floor. These were sounds that disturbed Jimmy far more than the less innocent noises of the London slum that was his home.

However, despite his unfamiliar surroundings, the pain in his shoulder and the increasingly noisy hunger rumblings of his stomach, when the sun reached its highest point in the summer sky and its warmth filtered down through the leafy canopy above him, fatigue, brought on by the events of the past few days proved stronger than his uncle’s instructions to guard the stolen Laneglos property and Jimmy fell into an exhausted sleep.

Jimmy woke with a start, momentarily confused about his whereabouts. Evening was far advanced and it was gloomy here, among the trees. When he tried to sit up his injured shoulder gave him an agonising reminder and he cried out aloud. Breathlessly, he did his best to stifle the sound, only partially succeeding. The pain he felt was excruciating, so much so that by the time he was able to rise to his feet he was sobbing.

Staggering, he felt light-headed and was aware of his grumbling stomach now. Remembering the events that had led to his shoulder injury gave him a moment of panic, wondering whether Alfie might have returned and, not being able to see him, had carried away the stolen property and left him alone in the wood.

Disconcerted, he looked about him in the gathering gloom with increasing panic. Then, recognizing the sagging branch, he staggered to where it hung over the undergrowth - and there were the valuable items stolen from Laneglos.

Despite the pain of his injured shoulder Jimmy felt tremendous relief at the knowledge that he would not incur his uncle’s wrath . . . but it was a fleeting feeling. Where was Alfie, he should have been back by now?

Many thoughts went through Jimmy’s mind. Had Alfie been unable to find the spot where he had left his nephew with the loot . . . or had he perhaps been captured? Then another thought came . . . what if Alfie had deliberately made good his own escape and left him here to fend for himself?

To Jimmy, confused by pain, hunger and doubt, this seemed the most likely answer. After all, Alfie had made it very clear what he thought of him. If he had found it difficult to locate a cart of some kind, or if there was a great deal of police activity in the area, Jimmy knew he would not hesitate to make good his own escape and leave his nephew to his fate.

Looking about him in sudden despair, Jimmy sank to his knees and began to cry.

Jimmy was still on his knees when he became aware of a new sound in the tree-tops above him. He had climbed awkwardly to his feet before he felt the rain upon his face and realized it was this that was causing the noise in the trees.

It was quite dark but the rain was falling harder now. Jimmy needed to find shelter and he stumbled off in the direction of the road. He could bear the pain he was suffering no longer and was desperate to escape from the frightening loneliness of the woods. He would follow the road until he reached the first sign of habitation and give himself up to whoever he found there. A lengthy prison sentence was inevitable . . . but it was preferable to his present dire situation.

Jimmy staggered on for what must have been at least an hour - he could not be absolutely certain because he was having intermittent bouts of delirium. He was soaked through, in constant pain and increasingly aware that he had become hopelessly lost.

He could see nothing in the gloom and needed to walk head down to protect his face from the rain, his useable arm outstretched to detect trees, or wayward branches.

Suddenly, he became aware that the sound he had been hearing for the past few minutes had increased and was too loud to be rain, but it was a moment or two before he realized that what he was hearing was the sound of rushing water tumbling over rocks. There was a river nearby!

Jimmy headed for the sound, hoping the river might indicate the edge of the woodland and bring him closer to habitation. He cursed the rain and the darkness it brought with it. If there was even a glimmer of light he might have been able to see what was on the other side - or even how wide or deep was the river.

He reached the water’s edge, but dared go no farther. However, there was a path of sorts here and as the ground sloped away to his left this was the direction he took. He was more concerned about his footing now because the path was muddy and slippery and the river very close, following the slope in a series of unseen but noisy shallow cataracts.

Suddenly, Jimmy saw a faint light in the distance. Yellow and indistinct, he thought it could be coming from the window of a cottage, possibly beyond the edge of the wood.

He had no way of knowing on which side of the river it was, but the glimpse of the light gave him a feeling of indescribable hope that the nightmare in which he had been caught up was almost over.

It was . . . but not in the way he envisaged.

He lost concentration on what he was doing for only a moment, but it was sufficient time for him to collide with the overhanging branch of a tree. It was probably no thicker than his little finger but when it brushed his face he involuntarily stepped back away from it. His foot slipped on the mud and before he could regain his balance he tumbled into the fast- running river.

He cried out from the pain it caused to his injured shoulder, but the next moment his head struck one of the rocks protruding from the water - and Jimmy Banks knew no more.

CHAPTER 21

‘Why are you asking me these questions? I had nothing to do with the killing of Enid Merryn . . . although on the few occasions I had her working for me in the kitchen she was so slow I might have felt like doing it, but it would have been like punishing a baby.’

The pugnacious observation was made by Peggy Woods, the Laneglos assistant cook, in response to the questions being put to her by Tom in the housekeeper’s sitting-room.

‘In view of what has happened to Enid I don’t think that is something that ought to be said, even in jest.’ The sharp rejoinder came not from Tom but from Flora, who was present at his interview with the Irish woman.

‘I meant nothing by it.’ the assistant cook said, ‘Why, I’d be saying the same thing to my husband more than once - and for all his faults I wouldn’t harm a hair on his darling head.’

‘I’m sure he’d be pleased to hear you say that.’ Tom said, hoping as soon as the words left his lips that Peggy Woods would not take offence. The assistant cook had the physique of an Amazon and Flora had warned him that she possessed a quick temper ‘. . . but you haven’t answered my question.’ he added, ‘and it’s one I need to ask every member of the household staff . . . what were you doing on the night of the robbery. . . the night Enid Merryn went missing - and was your husband with you?’

‘What we were doing is a private matter between a husband and wife.’ the assistant cook retorted testily, adding, ‘and it’s not something I’d be doing by myself.’