Churchyard and Hawke Read online

  Saluting Amos smartly, he said, ‘I hope you don’t mind, Mr Hawke, sir, I’ve dismissed the recruits early because of the heat. One of them collapsed and I didn’t want to lose the whole intake, so I brought the drill to a halt.’

  ‘Well done, Harvey, we’re having so much trouble recruiting suitable men I doubt if we’re ever going to reach our complement. We can’t afford to lose a single one of those we have taken on . . . but I’m glad you’ve come up to the office. I seem to remember you lived in Hoxton when we were both in London. Because of your association with prize-fighting you must have got to know many of the villains there - and it seems we might have had a visit from a couple of them. . . .’ He went on to tell Harvey of the young Laneglos scullery-maid’s visit to the police station and her story of the mysterious ‘Jeremy Smith’.

  When he ended, Harvey said, ‘I doubt very much whether Smith is his real name even if Jeremy - or Jem - is, although I can think of half-a-dozen young ruffians by the name of "Smith" who would fit the bill and Jem is a popular name in Hoxton, the name being that of a bare-fist fighter who was a local champion around twenty years ago. If we had a few more details I could write to a friend of mine, Tom Churchyard. He’s stationed on the Met’s ‘K’ Division, which takes in Hoxton. He’s only a constable, but he knows just about every villain on his patch and should have been made a detective long ago. He’s also an ex-Royal Marine, like you and me but, as I say, I’d need a bit more information to give him than a name that might, or might not, be his real one.’

  Turning over in his mind what Harvey had said, Amos reached a decision, ‘I have a nasty feeling about this,’ he said, ‘but, I agree, we need to know more about the young man in question and in view of the hot weather I think the recruits might welcome a break from drill for the rest of the day. Send them out on the beat with experienced constables and you and I will go along to Laneglos and see if we can learn a little more about this "Jeremy Smith".’

  Before setting off for Laneglos, Amos had the duty station sergeant tell him all he knew of the big house and its residents.

  Built in the 17th century, a short time before the outbreak of the English Civil War, it had a very large three storey facade with equally large wings set at right angles to it on either end. There was a cluster of outbuildings and stables to one side of the house and its own church some distance away at the rear. Laneglos had been in the Hogg family since the Restoration and the present owner was Viscount Edwin Hogg, one-time Member of parliament and past Lord Lieutenant and Sheriff of Cornwall. In indifferent health for the last few years, he left the running of the great house to his second wife, whom he had married when she was a titled widow with grown up sons and daughters by her late husband, also a Viscount.

  Hogg had a son and daughter by his first wife but both these children had married and moved away, although one day the son would inherit both his father’s title and the estate.

  Laneglos, one of the largest houses in the Duchy of Cornwall, was at the hub of the county’s society. It had more than forty servants and gardeners all currently overseen by Laneglos’s young but formidable acting housekeeper, Flora Wicks.

  After making their way along a curving, tree-lined drive in a gig, one of a number supplied by the county for its police superintendents, Amos and Harvey arrived at the front door of the great house. When the horse and gig came to a halt, a groom was on hand immediately to take charge of the outfit.

  After explaining their business the two policemen were escorted inside the house by a footman and taken to the housekeeper’s sitting-room where Flora Wicks soon arrived to speak with them.

  A tall, confident young woman in her twenties, Flora Wicks was surprisingly young for the important post she held. She was, in fact, employed by the Hogg family as the assistant housekeeper but the regular housekeeper, who had held the post for almost thirty years had been taken ill a few weeks before. She was now recovering slowly and in the meantime Flora Wicks was firmly in command of the household.

  Flora was fully aware of her present status in the household of one of Cornwall’s most influential families and Amos did not doubt that in spite of her lack of years she carried out her duties with the strictness and efficiency expected of her.

  When Amos introduced himself and Harvey, the housekeeper said, ‘Enid informed me you would be calling but although it was I who said she must come and speak with you, upon reflection I fear I might be wasting your time, Superintendent, Enid is a very imaginative young girl.’

  ‘That may be so,’ Amos replied, ‘but I am not without experience of those who have inventive imaginations and I believe Enid is telling the truth about your late employee. Sergeant Major Halloran and I have come to Laneglos to learn what we can of this Jeremy Smith. It’s probably not his real name but in conversation with Enid it seems he mentioned the district of London from whence he came. Sergeant Major Halloran is familiar with that particular area and many of the criminals who live there. We are hoping he may learn enough about this young man to identify him and form an opinion of what he might be planning - and I am convinced he is up to something. Would you have any of his references, or the names of the men or women from whom they come?’

  ‘I do have a reference,’ Flora admitted. Showing mild embarrassment, she added, ‘Unfortunately it is worthless. When Smith applied for work at Laneglos he gave a reference purporting to come from a senior military man. I followed it up, of course, only to learn that the officer in question had closed down his London house on being posted to Bermuda. If it was a false reference then Smith must have learned of the officer’s posting from one of the London newspapers and used it to his advantage.’

  When Amos raised an eyebrow at the housekeeper’s apparent breach of the basic principle of thoroughly checking references produced by prospective servants, she flushed and said defensively, ‘Of course, in the circumstances I did not take it upon myself to accept the reference. I consulted Lady Hogg and her youngest son by her previous marriage, the Honourable Charles Delville, who happened to be at Laneglos at the time. The excellent reference was written in an educated hand on notepaper embellished with the crest of the officer’s family and they both agreed we should accept it as being genuine.’

  Nodding his head in acknowledgement that she was not entirely to blame for employing "Smith", Amos said, ‘I am beginning to think we might be dealing with some very resourceful criminals, Miss Wicks. I don’t think your late footman was working alone and I doubt whether making off with a trifling amount of money was his main purpose in obtaining work at Laneglos. By his actions this young man might well have prejudiced a far more serious criminal plan, but in order to discover what such a plan might be, I need to learn more about him. Is there any one of your servants who was particularly friendly with him and who might be able to tell us something?’

  The housekeeper shook her head, ‘Only Enid - and I thoroughly disapproved of the friendship . . .’ A sudden thought came to her and she asked, ‘Would it help if I showed you a photograph of Smith?’

  Her question took Amos by surprise, ‘You have a photograph of him?’ Photography was still a comparatively new innovation and quite expensive. It was hardly something a servant could afford . . . but Flora Wicks explained.

  ‘A photographer has being going around the great houses of Cornwall taking photographs of families and staff. Lady Hogg thought it would be nice to have one taken of all the household staff and servants. The result is hanging in the servants’ sitting- room. I will have a maid fetch it. While we wait perhaps you and Mr Halloran would like a cup of tea. . . ?’

  While the housekeeper was out of the room summoning a maid, Amos said, ‘This is a stroke of luck, Harvey. If the photograph is a good likeness you should be able to send a description of this Jeremy Smith to your friend in London, together with any information we glean from the other servants.’

  When Flora Wicks returned to the room carrying a framed photograph, she was accompanied by a maid bearing a tray
on which were the promised tea and a plate of biscuits.

  Harvey took the photograph from her while Amos moved a vase of flowers to one side in order that the maid could place the tray things on an occasional table. When the maid gave a hurried curtsy and hurried from the room, Flora Wicks said to Harvey, ‘I will show you which of the servants in the photograph is Smith. . . .’

  ‘You don’t need to.’ Harvey replied, ‘Unless I’m mistaken he’s second from left in the back row.’

  The housekeeper was momentarily too surprised to reply but a Amos asked, ‘You know him, Harvey?’

  ‘Yes . . . but not as Jeremy Smith. He’s Jimmy Banks, a young man who I believe served prison sentences for pickpocketing and theft when he was still a boy. It’s common knowledge in Hoxton that he’s been guilty of more crimes since then - although as far as I know nothing has been proven against him recently. Nevertheless, he’s well on his way to maintaining the reputations of the rest of his family. His father was transported for robbery, at least two of his brothers have served prison sentences for burglary - and an uncle was hanged for murder.’

  Lowering the photograph, Harvey said, ‘You are right to be concerned about him. We can be absolutely certain Jimmy Banks wasn’t working at Laneglos because he fancied a footman’s life. He and his friends are up to something - and I think we need to find out what it is.’

  The housekeeper’s dignified air of authority had dissipated while Harvey was talking and now she groped for a chair that was behind her. Finding it, she sat down heavily and gasped, ‘I am sorry, gentlemen . . . I feel suddenly faint!’

  ‘I met one of your ex-pupils today, Talwyn, a rather simple young girl named Enid who used to live at Porthpean.’

  Amos was speaking to his wife that evening in the kitchen of their home as she prepared the evening meal. They had been I married for little more than a year and, after spending almost half of his twenty-nine years in the Royal Marines and a couple of years in bachelor lodgings when he was a Scotland Yard detective, the mundane details of domestic life were still very much a novelty to him. He also enjoyed watching Talwyn, whatever she was doing.

  ‘You must be speaking of Enid Merryn. Yes, she is a simple girl, but she has a lovely gentle nature. She was only at the school for a year or so but I grew very fond of her. I hope she isn’t in any trouble?’

  ‘I hope so too,’ Amos replied. He told her of his meeting with the Laneglos scullery-maid and of her involvement with Jimmy Banks, alias Jem Smith.

  ‘Oh dear, poor Enid, she is such a warm little soul, she’d give her heart to any young man who said he loved her. If he’s gone off with her savings and let her down she’ll be heart-broken’

  ‘I fear it might be far more serious than a broken heart and a few stolen pounds,’ Amos replied, gravely, ‘I believe this young man might be in league with others who are planning some villainy against Laneglos House. He doesn’t sound the type to desert the life he’s been leading in London in order to work as a poorly paid footman in a Cornish country mansion - or go to the length of having a letter of reference forged in order to do so. The letter has been written by an educated man on headed notepaper. Such things aren’t difficult to obtain in London, but they don’t come cheap.’

  ‘Do you think he and the others are planning to burgle Laneglos? They will need to be very bold, there are a great many staff employed there.’

  ‘That’s quite true.’ Amos agreed, ‘and the housekeeper told me her employer insists on having two armed gamekeepers patrolling the estate at night, that’s why I believe something more than burglary is being planned. It seems the man who was with this young ex-footman when Enid surprised them in the Laneglos grounds yesterday was asking questions about a grand summer ball that’s being held there in a couple of weeks time. Do you know anything about it?’

  ‘Of course!’ Talwyn stopped what she was doing in order to enlighten Amos. ‘It’s an annual charity event. I have never attended it myself but it is the social event of the year. Everyone who lays claim to being part of Cornish society will be there, showing off the latest fashions.’

  ‘. . . And no doubt displaying their most expensive jewellery too.’ Amos mused. ‘It would make a tempting target for a gang of well organised thieves. I’ll have a word with the Chief Constable tomorrow and see if he’ll agree to me making a trip to London to find out all I can about young Jimmy Banks and his dubious friends.’

  CHAPTER 3

  Four days after their visit to Laneglos, Amos travelled by train with Harvey Halloran to London. They crossed from Cornwall to Devon via the newly-opened railway bridge that now towered above the River Tamar, the waterway which formed a natural border between the two counties.

  Amos had reported the happenings at Laneglos, together with his suspicion that a major crime was being planned, to the Cornwall Chief Constable. An ex-army man, the County’s senior policeman was having a great many problems recruiting for his force, not least the opposition of many of the gentry at having such a force imposed upon them. He was alarmed at the prospect of a serious crime being perpetrated against one of Cornwall’s most influential landowners and readily gave Amos permission to go to London to meet with Constable Churchyard of the Metropolitan Police taking Harvey with him, the drilling of new recruits being suspended for the immediate future.

  Tom Churchyard met the two Cornish policemen at Paddington Station, in London. He was younger than Amos had expected, being no more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, but en route to Scotland Yard where they were to have a meeting with a senior detective, Amos learned that Churchyard, like himself, had joined the Royal Marines as a young boy and seen action in a number of places in the world before leaving to join the Metropolitan Police three years before.

  Brought up in the East End of London prior to joining the Royal Marines, he was immediately sent back to his birthplace to help keep order in the most lawless district of the whole of London.

  Churchyard’s knowledge of the area and the families who resided there gave him a distinct advantage over most of his colleagues and he quickly gained a reputation as the man to speak to if information was needed about any of the many criminals dwelling in the warren of dingy streets and alleyways of Hoxton.

  The young policeman was tall and clean cut and, although he addressed the Cornish police superintendent as ‘sir’ and showed him the deference his rank demanded, his manner was in no way servile. Amos thought that despite his lowly origins Tom Churchyard considered himself the equal of anyone he was likely to meet with, whatever the other’s station in life.

  As an ex-member of the Metropolitan Police himself, Amos realized it was an attitude that would not please Tom Churchyard’s superior officers. His knowledge of the notorious Hoxton area and the fact that he was exceptionally good at his work secured his place in the London force, but it was unlikely he would ever gain promotion.

  Nevertheless, Amos took an instant liking to the young Constable and on the way to Scotland Yard in a Hackney carriage, asked him how well he knew Jimmy Banks, alias Jem Smith.

  ‘Well enough,’ Churchyard replied, ‘Although I’ve never arrested him I’ve taken most of his family in at one time or another. They’re a thoroughly nasty lot who between them have been guilty of just about every crime in the book. Jimmy is a thief too - he could hardly be anything else with his background - but he’s probably the best of a bad lot. . . .’

  Breaking off and showing signs of embarrassment, he added, ‘. . . but if you don’t mind, sir, I would rather wait until we get to Scotland Yard before going into detail about the Banks family and their accomplices. Detective Inspector Dyson is in charge of plain clothes police at Scotland Yard and has left word that he wants to be present when we discuss them.’

  ‘So Dyson is still there!’ Ames commented, ‘I thought he might have moved on to less demanding work.’

  Herbert Dyson had been a detective sergeant on one of the Metropolitan Districts when Amos had been at Scotland Yard.
Amos liked neither the man, nor the methods he was rumoured to employ in order to secure convictions.

  When Amos had been sent to Cornwall to investigate a number of brutal murders, including that of the officer who was then in charge of London’s detectives, he had been made an acting detective inspector and it was expected he would take over the detective branch upon his return. Instead, the post had been given to Dyson - who was married to the daughter of one of the Metropolitan Police’s Assistant Commissioners.

  It gave Amos a moment of wry satisfaction that it was because of this he had accepted his present post with the Cornwall Constabulary. He now held a rank senior to that of Inspector Dyson . . . but Constable Churchyard was talking to him once more.

  ‘. . . I was forgetting you were once a Metropolitan detective too, sir. I expect you and Inspector Dyson will have a lot to talk about.’

  ‘I doubt it.’ Amos said, ‘we never worked together on any cases of importance.’

  There was something in Amos’s short reply that emboldened the young constable to say, ‘I’ve heard many of those who did work with you in those days say it should be you heading the detective branch now.’

  Amos shook his head, ‘I am quite happy where I am - and I have no doubt Inspector Dyson is doing all that was expected of him when he was appointed.’

  Tom Churchyard was a bright young man. He realized that Amos’s reply was a diplomatic one and not an endorsement of Inspector Dyson’s suitability for the post he held.

  Equally non-committal, he said, ‘I’m sure everyone at Scotland Yard would agree with you, sir.’

  It was enough. Without saying a word against the officer in charge of the Metropolitan detectives, each man was made fully aware of the other’s opinion of him.

  Arriving at Scotland Yard, Amos and his two companions were shown into Inspector Dyson’s spacious office on the ground floor and Amos thought ruefully that it was a far cry from the cramped attic office he had occupied when stationed here.