Beth again sat up with a start. ‘Now there’s someone who is interesting. Whereas Evelyn is frightened of her own shadow, Debra is now having a wonderful time. She certainly let her guard down last night.’
‘In what way?’
‘Forgetting Anne and I were there. Do you remember, darling, when we first saw Debra? Inspector, you were there too. She had that same look as Evelyn; scared and fearful. Well, last night I saw a different woman. She struck a more confident pose, not hunched up and defensive. It was as if someone had taken shackles off of tethered horse. It wasn’t until I asked what sort of man her husband was that she retreated a little.’
The Inspector made no comment and moved on. ‘Vic and Flora. What did you make of them?’
James considered Vic to be under the thumb. ‘I don’t know how he puts up with it. Vic do this, Vic do that. Even when he does it, it’s wrong. Odd isn’t it, the way people rub along together.’
Wormstone moved them along to Kerry Sheppard. James explained that they’d had supper with her and the Merryweathers a couple of evenings previously and she was certainly a unique individual.
‘Have you met her, Inspector?’
He bowed his head slowly but kept his thoughts to himself. James bit back his annoyance. He had hoped Wormstone would be a little more talkative than this. He clearly had his own opinions about these people but they would remain unspoken.
Beth described Kerry as an independent and strong-minded woman. ‘I admire her. I think the locals here have something against women like that and I understand why. This is an entirely different community to the one we’re used to. Women have their place here. But I heard nothing to suggest that she’s a suspect, unless being anti-men is a crime.’
The last couple to consider was Edith and Enoch: they detailed the number of observations they’d made of the pair arguing in public James outlined how he intervened when they were on the promenade the previous day. ‘I did fear that he might actually hit her.’
‘Oh,’ Beth exclaimed putting her hands to her mouth. ‘Do you think he would have?’
Wormstone shrugged and said ‘It happens.’ Beth gave him a horrified look and expressed her surprise at his flippant comment.
‘I don’t mean to be flippant. It’s a fact of life, I’m afraid. I see it down here and I saw it in London. There are certain men, like Enoch, old school who want their women to remain in their place and if they step out of line they get a slap. That’s all I’m saying. I don’t agree with it, I’m just telling it like it is.’
James couldn’t imagine living under such circumstances. Striking a woman was cowardly and disgraceful in his book. The Inspector checked his watch and indicated that he should be going.
‘Your insight into these individuals is interesting and I’ll be following up on one or two. I believe you’ve reached your finale.’
‘The climax of our story, yes.’ James reiterated his concerns over the lights he’d seen out at sea, the myth of the ghostly fisherman and his desire to establish exactly what he was looking at. ‘Although we saw no lights out to sea, my instinct tells me the lights on the cliff top are significant.’
Beth added her horror at being almost rammed by Mr Sepp’s boat and asked what on earth he thought was funny about such an action.
‘He had the grace to apologise,’ James said. ‘He did look genuinely shocked that he’d also been set up.’ He described the problem he had with the Austin Healey. ‘The line had most certainly been snipped. The cut was far too clean for it to be anything else. It could have been nasty though.’
‘Lucky you know how to handle your car. You’ve had experience with racing I understand.’
James didn’t need to know how the Inspector knew that. They’d only been here a few days and once a snippet of information was given to someone, it was a certainty that the rest of the village would know soon after.
‘And you’re certain this Johnny Sepp was telling the truth?’
‘Yes, yes, absolutely. Unless he studied drama, I can’t imagine someone reacting the way he did.’
Wormstone put his notepad and pen back in his pocket with an expression of deep thought. ‘You’ve rattled someone’s cage that’s for sure. If you hear of anything else, you’ll let me know.’
Beth shuddered. ‘We are now tourists. We’re not asking any more questions or seeking out witnesses. You’ll see us at the parade tomorrow night and we won’t be gallivanting off into the middle of the Atlantic.’
He asked the pair of them what their overview was of the situation. ‘If you’ve helped George Lane out in the past, he must value what you have to say so come on, out with it.’
James prepared his second scone. ‘I can understand why Hilda is rumoured to be involved. Beth said the WI is a small club, they’ve recently started and there are only a few members. Three of them have now had their husbands kidnapped. Hilda is not only a mother hen fussing around them but she appears to be convincing the wives to take something positive from this. That advice is fine after a few months, but a few days? I’d say that was unusual. I’d focus some attention on that WI lot. Everyone keeps pooh-poohing the idea that Hilda is involved but it wouldn’t surprise me if she was.’
Beth agreed. ‘I found it all a little peculiar last night; I didn’t expect Evelyn and Debra to be there. I’ve said it to James and I’ll tell you. There’s something those women aren’t divulging. And now Enoch’s missing. The men have fish in common. Two catch them and one trades them. But that could mean you’re looking at the fishermen. A lot of those men that mix with Enoch aren’t the most ingratiating people.’ She turned to James. ‘And what about Jonah Quinn?’
James scratched his head. ‘I can’t fathom a motive though. There’s no ransom demand so something else is being played out here. If these men are being held captive, someone must be feeding them, keeping them safe. Have you done a thorough search, Inspector?’
Wormstone flinched at the suggestion and advised them that they’d done a number of house to house enquiries, searching cliff-tops and caves and checked to see if people were buying extra food and had come to a dead end.
‘Well, I’m stumped, I really am. Perhaps it’s someone with a grudge against fish,’ James said with a grin. ‘I say, Inspector, will you see what those lights are?’
‘I’ll get the coastguard to keep a look out. Enjoy your time at the festival tomorrow.’
‘Oh and Inspector, I know I’m asking questions but did you speak with that woman they call Nibbin?’
‘Yes sir, I did.’ He picked up his hat, bade them goodbye and walked to the car.
‘Blast. Damned infuriating man. He doesn’t give anything away, does he? I wonder what those lights were on the cliff top.’
Beth shot him a ‘you dare’ look. He held his hands up and promised not to pry. As they finished the rest of the cream tea he made a mental note that it wouldn’t hurt to have a walk up the foot path from the harbour. It was a public footpath after all. Perhaps they could have a stroll along the cliff path and they might bump into that Nibbin woman.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The sun was already melting into the sea as the Knockers parade began. James, Beth and the Merryweathers stood among the crowds lining the route and munched on Bidevin’s warm Cornish pasties. It was the right sort of night for them, too. A chilly wind was blowing in off the sea so a hot filling of beef and potato set them up well for the evening ahead.
James rose on tip-toe to see what was happening. This was a much more sombre affair to the other parades. The people taking part each carried a lantern and dressed in dark costumes. Bidevin seemed to be the leader of the procession and, as with the previous characters, he fitted the image well. He wore a dark green felt pointed hat, a leather jerkin and brown shoes. His bushy beard suited the image and the villagers behind him had adopted similar costumes. Most of them carried a spade or a pickaxe. Those without a lantern brandished two pieces of wood waiting for their cue to use them.
Bidevin held his spade high and bellowed out:
‘We are the Cornish Knockers, we live in the deep,
dank mines.
We spy and hide from the miners and make sure they
treat us fine.
All the time they feed us, we’re happy, like today,
But trick us and you’ll hear us knock on the other
side of the clay.
We’ll take you to the darkness, take you down below:
It’s black as night, you’ll be a fright, and your death
will be mighty slow.’
‘G-gracious,’ said Stephen, ‘that all sounds a l-little ominous.’
Those holding bits of wood began knocking out a rhythm and an accordion player slipped in beside Bidevin. It was another slow, mesmeric tune and the landlord trod a slow step along the high street. The men and women following him gave out a low, continuous hum.
James felt Beth snuggle closer. ‘This is creepy. Was the earlier one like this?’
Anne said the afternoon parade was more for the families. ‘Luke and Mark loved it. I’m not sure they’d like this. It’s like the beginning of one of those Hammer horror films. It’s terribly menacing, isn’t it?’
James studied the parade. There were around a hundred people there, wearing costumes and swinging lanterns. It was a spectacular sight and the haunting melody seemed to weave its way into everyone’s soul. He spotted Jonah Quinn, Hilda, Tristram and Hans; further back PC Innes brought up the rear in his role as constable.
Beth suddenly roared with laughter and those around them followed. Skipping around Innes was Gretchen Kettel. Everything she wore was far too big for her and she struggled to stay on her feet in makeshift boots. Her felt hat was at an odd angle and she carried a children’s tin bucket and spade. James laughed along with the crowds. She was certainly a bundle of fun; almost childlike in her enthusiasm. As the parade passed by, the music began to quicken.
Bidevin bellowed out:
‘The Knockers are coming to get you, they’ll take
you into the black,
They’ll hide you till you’re skin and bones and you’ll
never find your way back.’
Beth put her hand on her chest. ‘I’m not sure I like that sentiment.’
Anne agreed and Stephen instinctively drew her close. Across the road, Vic and Flora had closed the shop and stood to watch the parade go by. Mr Atherton, the blind man they’d seen earlier that week, also took it all in. James wondered what it must feel like; to miss out on the visual aspect of something so spectacular.
They slipped in behind the procession and made their way along the road. Residents who lived along the street, opened their top windows and waved. The haunting atmosphere lifted as Bidevin and his fellow Knockers waved and shouted out a greeting.
In twenty minutes, the Knockers and the following crowd had made their way to the top of the high street and into the park where the fairground was in full swing. The mood lifted as the crowds dispersed to the various stalls and rides.
The lights of the merry-go-round shone bright; its automated organ belting out old fairground classics. Alongside were bumper cars, the Waltzer and the Merry Mixer, each with its own musical accompaniment. People queued up for the coconut shy, strong-man machine and firing range. A stream of music hit the senses over the speakers; Fats Domino, Elvis, Chuck Berry and Buddy Holly. Beth and Anne jigged to the music as they walked around the fair. They each grabbed candyfloss and hopped onto the merry-go-round to catch a ride on the prancing ponies.
Stephen tried his hand at the strong man competition and swung a huge hammer onto a metal plate. The indicator reached half way. James didn’t fare much better. They turned their attention to the shooting gallery where Anne won a rubber duck.
In the middle of the park, the organisers had set up a makeshift dance floor and a skiffle band were pounding out ‘Pick a Bale of Cotton’, linking straight into ‘Rock Island Line’. Beth and Anne couldn’t help but dance on the spot. James could understand why there was such frenzy around this rock and roll music. It was foot-tapping and catchy. The band launched into Razzle Dazzle and James felt Beth tug his sleeve.
‘Oh come on darling. I can’t stand here while this is playing.’
He rolled his eyes at Stephen and Anne and allowed himself to be dragged onto the dance floor. The darkness of the parade was well and truly behind them as he and Beth jived alongside the off-duty Knockers and day-trippers. He swung Beth around by the waist, skipped and twirled to the beat. Stephen and Anne joined them as the band continued with ‘See You Later Alligator’. They danced for well over an hour under a canopy of stars until, after ‘Jailhouse Rock’, the lead singer brought the music to a stop and announced, in a breathless voice, that they needed to recharge their batteries.
The crowd applauded and concerned dancers asked if they were coming back. The singer checked his watch and assured them they had another half an hour of performing to come.
Beth led them staggering off the dance floor and let out an exhausted sigh. ‘Oh I can’t remember when we jived for so long.’
‘Me too,’ said Anne fanning herself. ‘I’m completely out of breath. Are we staying for the last half an hour?’
‘I-I’m happy too.’
‘Of course,’ said James who asked if everyone was as thirsty as he was. He rolled his sleeves up. Over the course of the last hour, they had discarded jackets, sweaters and cardigans. Beth and Anne had even slipped off their sandals. He and Stephen soon emerged from the beer tent with four glasses of shandy. ‘If you can’t drink it all, ladies, I’m sure that Stephen and I can help out.’
No sooner had they quenched their thirst than the music started again. There was no let-up on the band’s energy and the last half an hour was a string of hits from the previous two years. They ended the session with a dance called The Stroll which was a new one on James. Keen to try it out, they lined up, ladies in one line, gents in the other and simply strolled through their steps. At midnight, the band thanked their audience and turned the equipment off.
James took a breath. ‘My word, that was an evening and a half, wasn’t it?’
Beth picked up her sandals. ‘I can’t put these on. My feet are so sore, I need to soak them. Can you carry me darling?’
He gave her a stern look. ‘No dear, you’ll have to stagger along with the rest of us.’
They collected their things and made their way out of the park, carried along by a happy and still singing crowd. Stephen and Anne arrived at their car. They said their goodbyes with a promise to meet James and Beth at eleven the next morning for a walk along the cliff-tops.
James held Beth’s hand and they strolled toward the hotel. The crowds thinned out as couples and families headed for their accommodation. When they reached the harbour, they saw PC Innes talking to a dishevelled Vic Chenery and taking some notes. Hilda patted the shop owner’s hand.
‘Everything all right, Innes?’ James said as they approached.
Vic appeared pale and confused. He shivered even though he wore a thick sweater. Beth joined Hilda and rubbed his back. ‘What on earth has happened?’
‘My Flora’s disappeared.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
At breakfast, after a disturbed night’s sleep, James dipped his toast in his soft-boiled egg and held it up.
‘My theory that this links to the WI is well and truly shot out of the water. Flora wasn’t a member, was she?’
Beth mirrored James’ thoughts. ‘Poor Vic looked distraught. I know they’re always bickering but he dotes on her.’
‘It’s most odd. I don’t understand why there’s been no ransom demand or any communication from whoever’s doing it.’
She reminded him they were out of it now. ‘We made a good show of being tourists last night. Not that we were putting on an act but let’s keep it that way.’
Desmond popped his head round the door. ‘Ah, Mrs Merryweather is on the phone asking for one of you.’<
br />
Beth dabbed her lips with a napkin and followed Desmond out to reception where she picked up the receiver. Two minutes later she returned to James. ‘Luke and Mark have a stomach upset – probably too many ice creams and sweets but she’s going to stay with them at the caravan. Stephen’s happy to meet up as planned but I’ve agreed to spend the morning with Anne to keep her company – do you mind?’
‘Not in the least. It’ll be nice to spend some time with Stephen. Vivian’s making up a flask of tea to keep us going.’
Although disappointed that it wasn’t the four of them, it did give him the chance to observe the cliff-top but he reminded himself that this was simply observation and not involvement.
After dropping Beth off with Anne, he and Stephen drove to the small car park at the end of the village that heralded the start of the cliff-top path. He opened up a map and they decided to cover the first five miles to the next cove and catch a bus back.
‘I’ve a small flask but hopefully there’ll be a pub or tearoom there for some liquid sustenance.’
He packed the map away, draped a camera around his neck and the pair of them made a start. The first few hundred yards saw them go up a gradual incline that, by half-way, made them realise they were not as fit as they thought they were. They stopped for a breather and spent a couple of minutes admiring the scenery. It was a blustery, yet balmy day and the sea streamed into the shore like white stallions racing to the finish line.
On the cliff-top itself, several people had the same idea as them and were heading toward the next cove with maps and cameras in hand. The only two trees left on the hill had been shaped by the wind, both curving at an alarming angle, the tips of the trees almost within touching distance of the ground they stood on.
Stephen undid his rucksack and got out his camera. Together they took a couple of snaps looking back to Polpennarth.
‘A-are you snapping as a tourist or an investigator?’
Lord James Harrington and the Cornish Mystery Page 16
