Hawke's Tor Read Free Page A

inside a niche cut into the rocky hillside when they saw a tall elderly woman on her knees in the garden, weeding a colourful flowerbed. She looked up at the sound of the horses and, rising to her feet, watched the riders approaching, at the same time kneading her aching back with the knuckles of one hand.
    Smiling in her direction, Amos said, ‘Good afternoon, ma’am, gardening on such a steep slope must be hard work, but you have a wonderful display of flowers to show for it.’
    â€˜There have been better years,’ came the reply, ‘but then, I’ve also had worse. Who are you?’
    Both men brought their horses to a halt and Amos said, ‘I’m Police Superintendent Amos Hawke from Bodmin and this is Sergeant Tom Churchyard, ma’am.’
    â€˜What have you come all this way from Bodmin for? We already have a policeman in Trelyn … he’s a sergeant too.’
    â€˜We’re here because Mrs Morgan and her baby have gone missing and everyone’s worried about them.’
    â€˜Mrs Morgan … are you talking of Kerensa Tonks, as was? I saw her only last evening taking that baby of hers up towards the place
that has a name the same as yours, Hawk’s Tor and although the baby was wrapped in a shawl it was far too late to have it out. I’m not surprised she got herself lost; it would have been nigh on dark by the time she got to wherever it was she was going. Not that it would have stopped her from doing what it was she wanted, Kerensa Tonks got up to more than most in the dark and having a baby hasn’t put a stop to her ways, nor has having a husband, much as he might have hoped it would. It’s in the blood, her mother was no better … and they used to say her mother looked more like the master up at the hall than any of his own children.’
    The two policemen exchanged glances, aware that the woman to whom they were talking probably knew more about Kerensa Morgan and everything that went on in the hamlet than anyone else they were likely to meet up with.
    Dismounting from his horse, and signalling for Tom to do the same, Amos said, ‘I’d like Sergeant Churchyard to make a few notes about what you’ve just told me, ma’am. It’s quite likely you’re the last person to have seen Mrs Morgan and it could prove a great help in finding her.’
    â€˜You’ll only find Kerensa Tonks – or Morgan, as she’s called now – if she wants to be found, though you’re both presentable young men, so you might stand more chance than most.’
    Choosing for the moment to ignore the woman’s implication, Amos said, ‘Do you mind if I ask your name, and whether you know more or less what time it was when you saw Mrs Morgan and the baby?’
    â€˜I’m Jemima Rowe, Miss Rowe, although everybody calls me Jemima. Until I retired nigh on twenty years ago I was housekeeper up at the Hall, though it was a different place in my young days. The master up there then was a colonel too, same as the one who’s there now, but he’d no more think of taking on a
“foreigner” as his estate steward than he would of allowing any of his servants to marry one.’
    â€˜Can you give me an idea of what time it was when you saw Mrs Morgan?’ Amos persisted.
    â€˜I wasn’t watching the clock, but it must have been half an hour or so before dark. Immediately after she passed by I went out to fetch in my washing and saw her take the track that leads up to the moor.’
    â€˜Are you quite certain of that? She wouldn’t have been going into the woods? That’s where her husband seems to think she might have gone, to meet him.’
    â€˜She was heading up towards the moor, whatever her husband thought. He’d be the last one to know where she was going off to, whatever time of day or night it was.’
    â€˜What makes you say that?’ Tom stopped writing and looked searchingly at