The Valley of the Shadow (27 page)

“In which case, Falmouth was very likely the freighter’s destination, and possibly its home port.”

“That’s my feeling, sir.”

Scumble picked up the phone again. This time he had to hold for a minute before it was answered. He drummed his fingers on the desk, saying to Megan, “What the hell is Polmenna doing in Boscastle? He ought to be back by now. We need— Hello? Get me a list of the flashing period—whatever it’s called, you know what I mean—of all the lighthouses in Cornwall. Better make it Devon, too … Then ring the local library! It shouldn’t be beyond their powers.”

“Coast Guard,” Megan suggested.

“And if it
is
beyond their powers, ring the Coast Guard.” Hanging up, he turned back to Megan. “Any more?”

“The Nayaks—I’ll call them that for convenience, though there’s a sprinkling of other surnames. They seem pretty sure the cargo was wool, in the hold they were in, at least. It smelled, apparently. They were able to walk about in narrow aisles between stacks of bales wrapped in hessian tied with twine.”

“Wool. Australia or New Zealand.”

“Almost certainly. Jay, the ex-copper, noticed the bales were marked. He remembers a couple of the marks, two or three capital letters. We may be able to trace the cargo and pinpoint the ship that way, if the other stuff doesn’t pan out.”

“Unless you have some idea of how to start on that, we’ll hold it in reserve. Go on.”

“I can’t think of anything else that would help with the investigation. It’s more stuff that will be needed in court. But let me look through my notes.” She skimmed through. “Something else the boy said—”

“What’s his name, this infant prodigy who has the makings of a detective?”

“Gopal Nayak. Known as Pal. He’s the son of Jay’s uncle. I tend to see them all in relation to Jay.”

“So what else did your Pal say?”

“He heard the captain address the yacht’s crewman as Lenny. Presumably Leonard, though it could be something else, I suppose.”

“That’s not much use till we find the yacht.”

“I agree, sir. He also heard Lenny address the captain as ‘cap’n,’ but he couldn’t understand anything else the man said. It sounds to me as if Lenny is a Cornishman, or possibly a native of Devon, who speaks with a pronounced local accent. I find some of them pretty hard to understand, even though I grew up in Cornwall. So if the captain could understand him—”

“He’s likely a Cornishman. Or must at least have spent a lot of time in Cornwall, consorting with the natives. Good. Anything else about the yacht itself?”

“There’s this: It’s pretty luxurious. Fancy fittings, I mean, besides the cabin being big enough to cram them all in.”

“So we have the captain of a freighter who had the use of a fancy motor yacht. One that can be handled by two men. At least, they didn’t mention any other crew?”

“No, sir. I didn’t ask.”

“You should have, Pencarrow, you should have.”

“Yes, sir. Though I do think they’d have said if they’d seen or heard more than the two.”

Scumble grunted. “You finished?”

“I think so.” She flipped through the last few pages. “Yes, that’s it. I didn’t get anything new from the women, except that Kalith’s sister confirmed the marks on the wool bales that Jay reported. Oh, and she’d noticed one he hadn’t.”

“With any luck at all, we won’t have to try to trace them. Right, I have a few questions arising from what ex–Sergeant Nayak told you yesterday. If you can’t give me the answers, write down the questions for next time. For a start, this … what is it?… lascar who set up the trip in the first place, the go-between, what do we know about him?”

“Nothing, sir. I did ask. The old man, the one who died, is the only person he dealt with. The others never caught more than a glimpse of him.”

“Not even your Pal?”

“Not even Pal. They don’t know whether he was a member of the crew of the ship they were on, or the freighter, or possibly someone hanging about in the port waiting for a berth. The old man seems to have been decidedly secretive about it.”

“Hmm. Doubtless he handled the payment, too. I wonder how he managed that, unless they had a suitcase full of large-denomination notes.”

“They say not. There’s an account at a London bank. Mr. Nayak, the present head of the family, says they transferred money by wire to the branch in Mombasa, but he doesn’t know how, as the old man couldn’t go ashore.”

“Well, I can’t see that it matters much, at least for the present. What’s more important is how they paid the sudden last-minute demand. Didn’t they tell you?”

“Gold jewellery. Apparently, it’s traditional for Indian women to buy it as a form of savings. The captain took the lot. Jay suspects he suddenly noticed it when he went into the cave. It was the first time he’d seen them in a decent light.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere! I assume you got a description of what was taken?”

“I gave them some paper and a biro—they have
nothing.
When I left, the women were writing out a list. My aunt said she’d bring it here.”

“That’s good of her,” Scumble said grudgingly. “Wait a minute, her car’s here in Launceston and you drove her to Bodmin, so how is she getting back? No, don’t tell me.” He groaned. “Skan’s bringing her.”

“I’m afraid so, sir. She didn’t want to leave, and I thought you’d want me to report as quickly as—”

“All right, all right. There can’t be much she hasn’t already told him. When she gets here, we’ll circulate the description of the stuff—if she hasn’t mislaid it—to jewellers and pawnbrokers. Cornwall and Devon to start with. Let’s pray that we don’t have to go as far afield as London to find it. Which reminds me, the Boy Wonder’s arriving on the next train. What the hell are we going to do with him?”

“He might be helpful if we have to circulate the list nationally,” Megan suggested with reluctance. “And if we have to dig into the bank business.” To give Ken his due, he was a good detective.

“I hope he won’t be here that long! Now, back to the robbery. It sounds as if it wasn’t planned?”

“That’s Jay’s impression, sir, and from what he and the rest said about it, I’d agree.”

“What about his crew? Did the man show surprise? If they could tell, with those damn balaclavas.”

“He wasn’t present. Jay told me the captain sent the crewman back to the boat, out of view and out of hearing, before he made his new demand. Lenny can’t have been fully in his confidence.”

“Unplanned. So it didn’t originate with whoever was supposed to pick them up. Where does that get us? Think, Pencarrow!”

“Ummm … I’m not sure, sir,” Megan admitted.

“For a start, it suggests the original intention was as they were told, to land them inconspicuously in a place or places where it wouldn’t be too difficult to make their way to wherever they intended to go. I’m wondering what sort of arrangements the captain had made with the … let’s call him X. Presuming he had made arrangements.”

“If his intentions were originally good, I can’t believe he’d leave it to chance to find someone willing.”

“He’d have to give at least a down payment, with a promise of the rest. I doubt he’d pay in advance the full amount agreed on. The question is, did X decide to make do with what he had rather than take the risk of picking up the Nayaks?”

“Do you think the captain would have been able to tell X in advance when the Nayaks would be there to be picked up?”

“Good point. Probably not.” He scribbled a note to himself. “We’ll have to talk to some shipping people about freighter schedules, if any. Let’s say, having robbed his passengers, the captain decided it was best if they quietly disappeared.”

“It’s so horribly cold-blooded!” Megan exclaimed. “What could they have done about the robbery, being here in England illegally?”

“So far all we’ve got is guesswork based on assumptions and beliefs, Pencarrow. Don’t get your knickers in a twist till we know what really happened. Let’s hope Polmenna has found X, though I doubt it, with just two uniforms to help him. They should have picked up some hints, though, as to who knows about the caves. You may have to go over tomorrow and talk to a few people. Or Eliot, if he finishes in Bude. But he’s not up to speed with this business.”

“Sir, it seems pretty obvious that X must be a Boscastle boatman. But if he’d landed the Nayaks in Boscastle, how would they get any farther? I wouldn’t have said there’s anywhere along the North Coast that’s easy to get away from unless you have a car, particularly if you don’t know the area.”

Scumble frowned. “True. Even if they were told where and when to catch a bus, they’d be conspicuous waiting for it. Which makes me think they must have expected to be picked up. Do they have any relatives in this country?”

“Yes, sir. They refused to give me details for fear of getting them into trouble.”

“Understandable, if irritating.
I
don’t think Dr. Prthnavi knew anything about it.
You
don’t think the restaurant people in Camelford or Bodmin knew anything about it. In fact, the only person I can think of who’s sympathetic to refugees and keeps popping up all over this case is your auntie. And I wouldn’t put it past her.”

TWENTY-SIX

Once again, Eleanor trudged wearily into the Launceston police station. Teazle, recovered and full of energy, bounced at her feet.

“This is for Mr. Scumble,” she told the duty sergeant, handing him the three pages torn from Megan’s notebook, now covered with Jay’s wife’s neat writing. “I’d like to have a quick word with DS Pencarrow, if possible.”

“Right you are, Mrs. Trewynn. I’ll give her a buzz, ask her to pop down.”

Eleanor subsided onto a bench against the wall. She let Teazle wander and sniff, as the sergeant made no objection. On a nearby corkboard, notices about sheep dip and foot-and-mouth disease kept uneasy company with a few blurry photos of missing and wanted persons.

“Mrs. Trewynn, DI Scumble would be grateful if you wouldn’t mind stepping upstairs.”

She did mind, but she wasn’t going to deliberately provoke Scumble. “All right. Thank you. Come, Teazle.”

“I’ll send up a nice cuppa,” the sergeant said sympathetically. “Here, you can deliver these papers yourself.”

The stairs seemed steeper than before. She couldn’t believe she’d ever bounded up them, just to show a young policeman she wasn’t as decrepit as he assumed. She plodded up, envying the way Teazle’s short legs propelled her vigorously from step to step.

As Teazle reached Scumble’s door, well ahead of Eleanor, it was opened by DC Polmenna. He stooped to scratch her head and beamed at Eleanor.

“Nice to see you again, Mrs. Trewynn. Come in.”

“Hello, Mr. Polmenna.” She was happy to see he’d forgiven her for bamboozling him that time … “Good afternoon, Inspector. Megan dear—”

“Hello, Aunt Nell.” Megan’s smile had a tinge of apprehension.

Eleanor knew better than to go and give her a hug in the presence of her colleagues, but Teazle had no such inhibitions. She scurried over to Megan, delighted to see her again.

Leaving it to her niece to deal with the dog, Eleanor turned to Scumble. “Here’s the list of jewellery Megan asked me to bring you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Trewynn. Please sit down.” He pointed at the chair facing him across his desk. He looked and sounded grim, but that was nothing out of the ordinary.

She sat, turning the chair sideways a bit so that she could see Megan. She hoped the sergeant would hurry with the tea and Scumble wouldn’t have too many questions. “I doubt I have any information about the Nayaks that Megan hasn’t already given you,” she said.

“So do I. I just hope that reporter hasn’t got the lot.”

Of course, that was what was bothering him. “I don’t think so. The Nayaks told him just the bare bones of their ordeal, and I didn’t add to it. It’s quite harrowing enough without elaboration.”

“Hmm. You’ll be glad to hear Polmenna found your smuggler, without you needing to break your word. Seems half the population of Boscastle knew which houses you’d visited and which was the last you called at.”

“That’s good. I suppose. You did tell him I didn’t give him away?” she asked Polmenna anxiously.

“Oh yes, I made sure of that.”

“Thank you. Was he helpful?”

“He made a useful suggestion,” said Scumble. He didn’t seem inclined to be more specific.

Polmenna, however, was eager to elucidate. “He said the people who know about the caves are all old Boscastle families, who’ve lived there for generations. So I—”

“That’ll do, Constable.” But having cut him short, Scumble himself became communicative. “The end result is, Polmenna found a lobster fisherman who admitted taking money, a down payment, to bring some people ashore from the cave. He was to be notified when the moment came. That’s the last he heard, and all he knows, or so he claims. He denies knowing who the money came from. He’s downstairs waiting to have a little chat with me.”

At a nod from the inspector, Megan, looking unhappy, said, “He’s been given an outline of what happened to the Nayaks—the old man’s death and Kalith and Mrs. Chudasama’s possible deaths.”

“‘In the valley of the shadow…,” Eleanor murmured, thinking of Jocelyn, wondering whether she had extracted any news from the hospital.

“He’s been told about the children. He has kids of his own. He’s been cautioned. And he’s been left to think about it.”

“He’s been arrested?”

“No. Not yet. We can hold him overnight if necessary without charging him.”

Scumble took over again. “If he can satisfy me that he didn’t find out the Indians had arrived until it became public knowledge, he could still be charged with conspiracy to contravene the immigration laws. One thing that’s puzzling us—”

He was interrupted by the arrival of Constable Arden with a tray of tea: three thick white china mugs, for the detectives, and a flowery cup and saucer for Eleanor. They all contained the same muddy brew, however. It tasted pretty foul, but Eleanor drank it thirstily. And quickly. Scumble wasn’t hiding his impatience under a show of patience, for once.

As she returned her cup to the tray, he reiterated, “One thing that’s puzzling us is how, if our lobsterman had picked them up, the Nayaks expected or were expected to travel onwards. None of the small harbours in the area have convenient public transport.” He paused.