Churchyard and Hawke (7 page)
‘This is unwarranted harassment.’ blustered the man, ‘I am Sir Richard Donahue. As I am employed at the Treasury in London it is possible I am known to your Chief Constable.’
‘It is possible he will know you.’ Amos admitted,’. . . as indeed do I, but I seem to remember that when I last saw you, you were standing in the dock in Marylebone magistrates court, calling yourself Conrad Shannon - and some of my colleagues there could remember a number of other names you had adopted in the past. I think you and Dolly - or Adelaide - had better come with us to the police station in Bodmin and sort out exactly who we all are . . . !’
CHAPTER 9
Looking through a barred aperture in the solid oak door of the police cell, Tom Churchyard saw Dolly Brooks lying on the built-in wooden bench which, together with a bucket in a corner of the diminutive and Spartan room, formed the only furnishings. A rolled up coat served as a pillow and Dolly was lying looking up at the white-washed ceiling, meditating on the events which had led to her incarceration.
Tom entered the cell carefully balancing in his good hand a tray on which was a bowl of watery vegetable soup, a hunk of bread, cheese and a mug of weak tea.
Turning her head, Dolly said, ‘Oh, it’s you!’
‘That’s right, Doll,’ Tom said cheerfully, ‘Personal service, ‘specially for you.’
‘You can poke your "personal service". Just let me out of this bleedin’ hole.’ Sitting up stiffly, she added, ‘I’ve done nothing wrong.’
The refined accent in evidence at Bodmin Road railway station had gone and she had reverted to the dialect of the area from which both she and Tom originated.
Still cheerful, Tom placed the tray on the plank bench beside her, saying, ‘I believe you, Doll. . . and so does Superintendent Hawke, but that’s only because we picked up you and "Sir Richard" before you’d had time to do what you’d come to Cornwall for.’
‘Oh? And what is it I’m supposed to have come here to do?’
Seating himself on the bench with the tray between them, Tom replied, ‘Now, that’s exactly what Superintendent Hawke and me have been wondering. As I told him, knowing you as well as I do, there are so many things you’re good at. There were times I’ve known you go into a shop as skinny as an orphan - and come out looking eight months gone, with half the shopkeeper’s stock stuffed up your jumper. I’ve also heard you bragging that you could go "up west", collide with half-a-dozen rich men and have their watches and purses while they were still peering down inside your bodice and assuring you there was no need for you to apologize.’
Smiling benignly at her, Tom continued, ‘Of course, there was much more, Doll . . . like the shilling-a-time knee-tremblers in the alleyway by the school for young gents at St Pauls. . . .’
‘All right, you’ve made your point - and stop calling me "Doll"! It’s a scullery-maid’s name and whatever else I may have been I’ve never been a drudge . . . but to go back to my original question, I’ve done nothing, so why are you keeping me in here? It ain’t right.’
‘The problem is, Doll, you don’t need to do anything at all, it’s what your friends and relatives get up to that’s likely to land you in trouble. You see, there’s a crime - a very serious one - known as "conspiracy". That’s when a lot of villains get together and decide they’re going to break the law. Now, once the law is broken all those who conspired to do it are equally guilty - whether they were at the scene or not when it was committed - and they’ll be given the same punishment as those who carried it out.’
‘But . . . that’s not fair!’ At first indignant, Dolly realized she had almost admitted she was aware something was planned and she added quickly, ‘Anyway, I don’t know of anything that’s going on.’
‘I’m afraid that won’t wash, Doll. We already know that something’s been planned and we know where and when it’s going to happen. What’s more, we’ve found evidence on your "Sir Richard" that incriminates both of you. Evidence that proves your intention of being at the scene of the crime together with the others involved. I’m very much afraid that it’s Newgate again for you - only this time it will be for very many years with no one to get you out.’
There was an element of truth in what Tom had told her. They had found two tickets for the Laneglos Grand County Ball in the possession of Conrad Shannon, the name in which Dolly’s companion had been entered in the Police Station’s custody book, despite his insistence that he was Sir Richard Donahue.
Whether this was sufficient to convict the pair of conspiracy was uncertain, but Tom’s claim certainly scared Dolly. With unfeigned horror she pleaded, ‘You can’t have me sent back to Newgate, Tom. . . I couldn’t take it. I’d top myself if I had to stay in there for very long, I swear I would. Take pity on me Tom . . . for old time’s sake!’
Tom was aware that Dolly had been an actress - and a very good one, with a wide repertoire of feigned emotions. She was also a convicted criminal. He had no illusions about her inherent dishonesty but he had known her before her conviction and was aware her upbringing and life itself had drawn her into ways that came naturally to so many of her contemporaries.
‘There is a way you can stay out of prison, Doll, and probably keep many of your friends and family out too. I don’t carry enough rank to make a decision on it myself, but Superintendent Hawke does. I can’t promise he’ll even want to help you, but I’ll discuss it with him.’
‘Bless you, Tom. You always were the best of our bunch. If you hadn’t gone off to sea when you did, you and me might have got together and I’d have been a different woman . . . just for you.’
Tom could have reminded her that, young though she was at the time, she had set out on her course in life long before he left Hoxton. Nevertheless he felt that at least some of her tears might be genuine. However, Amos had already left the police station. Discussion about her future would need to wait until the next morning.
When Tom gave details of his interview with Dolly to his superior officer the next day, Amos said, ‘Well, we certainly have enough evidence to bring them both before a magistrate right now, Tom. The stationmaster at Bodmin road railway station has just been to see me. It seems that two of the tickets handed in from the London train were very clever forgeries. They were for the journey from London - and Dolly and Shannon were the only passengers to have travelled the whole way. All the other passengers had boarded the train at Plymouth. Nevertheless, if Dolly is willing to tell us exactly what is being planned and we are able to nip it in the bud I would be quite happy to send her back to London without charging her.’
Smiling, he added, ‘I would even be willing to pay for a genuine ticket for her out of my own pocket. Shall we go and have a word with her now?’
‘It might be better if you go alone. She believes that because we were once kids together in Hoxton she can get away with far too much with me. She’ll probably say more to you if you are hard on her and are blunt about the consequences of not telling us what we want to know.’
‘That makes sense.’ Amos agreed. ‘All right, I’ll bring her out of her cell and see what I can learn. In the meantime I would like you to go to Laneglos to speak to the housekeeper, a Miss Wicks. As well as the forged railway tickets taken from Shannon, he had a couple of tickets to the County Ball. I believe they may be forged too. If they are it’s highly possible that all the tickets being carried by the Hoxton villains are forged. It could be a means of identifying anyone who gives us the slip at the station and succeeds in getting as far as Laneglos . . . so it is very important to us to know, one way or the other.’
CHAPTER 10
When Amos entered the cell Dolly was sitting up on the wooden bench and had eaten all the food she had been given for breakfast. The tray, on which was an empty mug and plate had been pushed beneath the bench. There was a strong smell of urine from the bucket in a corner of the room and, wrinkling his nose in distaste, Amos spoke to the constable who had unlocked the door to allow him into the cell. ‘I’m taking the prisoner up to my office to question her. While we’re there have the tray removed and the bucket emptied - and send some tea up to my office, we could be talking for quite a while.’
Beckoning for Dolly to follow him, he led the way from the basement cells and up two flights of stairs to his first floor office. Once there he seated himself behind his desk and waved Dolly to a padded seat opposite him.
Dolly sat down gratefully and in a display of bravado she was far from feeling, she said, ‘Can I take this chair back down to the cell with me. That wooden bench is playing merry ‘ell with my bum!’
Amos smiled, accepting her cockney humour. In contrast to her travelling companion she had abandoned her pretence of affluent respectability and settled for being Dolly Brooks, of Hoxton.
He was shuffling through a heap of papers on his desk when a tray of tea arrived and was placed on the desk between him and Dolly. Addressing her, he said, ‘You can pour for both of us - and I’ll have two sugars.’
As she poured he was aware she was trying very hard not to allow her hands to shake. Waiting until she had taken a couple of sips of tea and was peering anxiously at him over the rim of the cup, he sat back in his chair and said, ‘I believe Sergeant Churchyard has warned you of the trouble you are in? I hope you have thought about it very seriously?’
‘What is there to think about? I’ve not done anything . . . not that it’s likely to make any difference. If you’ve made up your mind to send me to prison there’s nothing I can do about it, but whatever story you make up about me the truth is that I’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘That’s perfectly true, Dolly.’ Amos took Dolly by surprise by agreeing with her, ‘You haven’t done anything and as long as nothing happens at the Laneglos summer ball I will be very happy to release you and send you back to London.’
Dolly’s moment of hope vanished as he added, ‘On the other hand, if something does happen, I have enough evidence to charge you and Shannon with conspiracy and as well as receiving the same punishment as those we arrest at Laneglos you will both serve even longer sentences because there are additional charges of forgery against you. I’m afraid you’d be an old lady before you got out of Newgate, Dolly - even if you survive that long. You’ll have lost all your looks and, quite frankly, you could look forward to a bleak old age.’
Trying hard to hide the very real fear she felt at the thought of being returned to the horror of life in Newgate prison, Dolly asked, ‘Are you enjoying telling me this, or are you hoping I’ll break down and tell you about all the others involved in this so-called "conspiracy"? If that’s what you’re expecting then you can think again. Even if something is going to happen - and I’m not saying it is - you’ll learn nothing about it from me, I’m no copper’s nark.’
‘Well, you’re going to have time to think about it, Dolly . . . but not much time. From what Sergeant Churchyard has told me about you I believe you’re a brighter than average woman, so when you’ve thought about everything I believe you’ll realize that by telling me all you know you’ll actually save yourself and these friends and relatives of yours from going to prison. I know something has been planned to happen at the County Ball and I intend having enough constables on the spot to deal with it and arrest those responsible - all of them, but I’m paid to prevent crime and that’s exactly what I am trying to do here. It’s to everyone’s advantage that I succeed. If I can find those involved and warn them off before a crime is committed it won’t be worth my while taking a conspiracy case to court. In that event I’d not only open the cell door and set you free, but let Tom Churchyard drive you to the railway station in my carriage.’
Dolly found the possibility of being able to avoid a very lengthy stay in Newgate prison tempting - very tempting - but she remained suspicious. Expressing her thoughts, she said, ‘I don’t believe you, you’re a copper. Once you’ve learned all there is to know you’ll arrest everyone you can lay your hands on and haul ‘em up before a beak just to show how clever you are.’
Amos shook his head, ‘I don’t need to prove myself to anyone, Dolly. I have the top job in the Cornish constabulary, answering only to the Chief Constable. If I can prevent anything untoward from happening at the social event of the year it will only be what’s expected of me - and most of those there will never even know about it. On the other hand, if something does go wrong it will ruin the evening and I’ll be heavily criticised, even if I succeed in arresting everyone involved and have them all sent to prison. So by preventing anything from happening we’ll all be winners. If your friends try to pull off a job they’re going to fail and you and they - and me - will all be losers - but I won’t be going to jail!’
With an exaggerated gesture of apparent resignation, Amos added, ‘But if you won’t help me, then so be it. I see you’ve finished your tea, I’ll have you taken back to your cell now. A police cell isn’t the most comfortable place in the world but make the most of it while you can, it’s a damned sight better than Newgate!’
‘They look very like the tickets we have been selling . . . yet I am not absolutely certain. If you wait here I will go and fetch a ticket from Lady Hogg’s desk and we can compare them.’
Flora Wicks was talking to Tom in the housekeeper’s sitting-room at Laneglos, which the housemaids kept neat and tidy as part of their duties, housekeepers having a privileged status in the households of such large country mansions.
When she returned to the room, Flora placed the genuine ticket she was carrying upon the table alongside the two Tom had brought to the house. As they both leaned over to peer at them their heads were close together and, inconsequentially, Tom was made aware that her hair must have been recently washed, using an expensive soap, probably a gift from the family for whom she worked.
Eventually, the housekeeper straightened up and, turning to Tom, said excitedly, ‘It is a forgery . . . but a very good one!’
‘Are you sure . . . absolutely sure? I’d be hard put to tell them apart.’
‘I don’t doubt it, so would most people but I helped Lady Hogg to design the tickets so I know what I am talking about. The colour on the forgery is very slightly paler than on the original . . . although it is not easy to spot immediately. I noticed it only because Lady Hogg and I had a slight difference of opinion about it.’