have just delivered a letter from the Honourable East India Company addressed to Morgan, at Trelyn Hall. It means Morgan was not telling the truth when he said nobody was aware of his whereabouts.â
âIt could be he didnât feel the East India Company counted as âa personâ,â Amos commented.
âPerhaps ⦠but Iâm not convinced. I felt all the time we were
talking that thereâs something in Morganâs background heâd rather we knew nothing about.â
Amos had known the sergeant for too long to dismiss his hunches out of hand. âWell, we need to follow up every possible lead, Tom. Write a letter to the East India Company and see if they can tell you anything about Morgan. If thereâs anything worth looking into further Iâll ask the chief constable to authorize you to go up to London and dig a little deeper. Weâll go to North Hill now and have a chat with a certain Bessie Harris. Jemima tells me sheâs the one who is sent for when a baby is being born. It also seems she knows of a gypsy who takes babies from unmarried mothers â for a sum of money, of course â and sells them on to women who are desperate for a baby but unable to have one themselves.â
âNow that could explain baby Albertâs mysterious disappearance, â Tom declared. âAlthough I would never have thought of such a thing as a possible explanation!â
âDonât get too excited about it, Tom, Jemimaâs information is a few years old, but itâs worth checking out. When weâve done that weâll see if the landlord of the Ring oâ Bells at North Hill has a private room where we can get something to eat. It might also be a useful opportunity to learn something more about Kerensa Morgan. She worked there before she was married and â again according to Jemima â it seems she did a lot more there than satisfy the customersâ thirst. We might learn something of significance.â
Chapter 6
B ESSIE HARRISâS HOME was a tiny thatched cottage at the edge of North Hill village. The front garden was occupied by a grey-muzzled dog of uncertain breeding, which looked through clouded eyes in the general direction of the two policemen and, as they opened the gate, barked ferociously, at the same time wagging its tail in greeting.
The sound brought two cats to the window-sill inside the house and Amos and Tom would learn they were only one-fifth of the number kept by the woman who during a long lifetime had brought most of the residents of the surrounding villages into the world.
Bessie was a short, grossly overweight, grey-haired woman who waddled rather than walked when she led the two men across the single downstairs room, shooing cats off the two chairs on which she invited her visitors to sit after she had somewhat reluctantly allowed them inside her home.
The room was cluttered with knick-knacks gathered from a lifetime and smelled uncomfortably strongly of the animals which shared the cottage with her. Tom wrinkled his nose in distaste and it did not pass unnoticed by Bessie.
Addressing Amos, she said sharply, âI donât suppose you came here just to clutter up my cottage, so what is it youâre wanting?â
âInformation, Bessie. Weâve been told you might be able to give us the name of a gypsy whoâs been known to find homes for unwanted babies.â
âMe? How am I supposed to know something like that? I just help mothers best I can to bring their babies into this world. What they do with them afterwards is their business, not mine â nor anybody elseâs as far as Iâm concerned.â
âI wouldnât argue with that, Bessie,â Amos replied, adding soothingly, âFrom all Iâve heard youâre probably the best midwife in the whole of Cornwall and I am not here to make any accusations against you. The women around here are very lucky to have you, but