‘I had heard, perhaps, incorrectly…’
‘There’s always gossip in these cases.’
The vicar nodded his head gravely. It was probably wrong to suspect him. He was shocked by what had happened and wanted to talk it over with someone.
‘I feel that if ever prayer was answered…’
‘You did more for him than I did.’
‘You, too, have the conviction?’
‘Didn’t you make him change his mind?’
He was afraid he had earned a lecture by this hint of unbelief. Over his tumbler of lemonade the vicar was staring at him solemnly. Then he sighed, and took a pull from it. This wasn’t, perhaps, the time! Gently, poker-faced behind his pipe, looked less than apt as a subject for lectures.
‘I had a visit from your colleague.’
‘Yes.’ Gently puffed a ring of smoke.
‘I couldn’t help him much, I’m afraid, unless it was help of a negative nature. These have been truly distressing days, Inspector. We live in an atmosphere of doubt. The sin of one man can infect a community — in a sense, we are all of us sharers in his guilt.’
‘You are referring to society?’
‘Every one of us, Inspector. The commission of a crime is like a ripple in a pond. We have impulses of good and impulses of evil, and both can be excited by the presence of their like. Those people out there! They are good souls, all of them. Many of them I have known all the days of their lives. Yet in the presence of sin they become themselves sinful, they feel guilt in themselves and their hearts become as stone. And when you find your culprit and bring him to the gallows their guilt, I’m afraid, not their justice, will rejoice.
‘The most tragic two words in the language are “Crucify him!” There, Inspector, lies the shipwreck of the human spirit.’
Gently nodded without comment — he hadn’t come to discuss the morals of it. At the moment he wanted something more directly germane. ‘All the days of their lives’ was the phrase which had struck him… the vicar was an observer who might hold vital information.
‘How long have you been in Hiverton?’
‘Don’t ask me, Inspector!’
He pointed to his short grey hair with a smile.
‘I came here from Tuthill — that’s a parish in Dorset. It was winter at the time and I thought I’d come to the North Pole.’
‘Many years ago, was it?’
‘In twenty-seven, to be exact. I ought to remember it because poor Mary was having John. We were snowed up for three weeks — no hope of a midwife. John was our first, you know. I shall never forget it.’
‘Things have changed, I expect.’
‘Yes. Even in Hiverton.’
‘And people, no doubt.’
‘They change, but they stay the same.’
‘The fishermen too?’
‘Especially the fishermen! They haven’t altered, Inspector, since Peter cast his nets in Galilee.’
‘What about Robert Hawks?’
‘Are you interested in Bob?’
‘I’d like to hear anything you can tell me about him.’
The vicar, rather to Gently’s surprise, himself produced a pipe. It was a pleasant little briar with an apple- shaped bowl. He tapped it once or twice fastidiously before filling it from a tin — the mixture, Gently noticed, was a mild-flavoured blend.
‘You’ve been using your eyes, haven’t you?’
Gently offered his matches, shrugging. The vicar lit his pipe attentively, letting the match burn almost to his fingers.
‘In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me… how much do you really know about them? Because Dawes comes into it, all along the line. If you’re interested in one then you’re interested in the other.’
‘In both if you like. I was going to ask about Esau.’
The vicar nodded wisely and adjusted his pipe with his thumb.
‘Well, when I first came here, things were altogether different. In those days they used to go drifting — Esau’s got his skipper’s ticket. As a matter of fact, I didn’t see much of them. They used to follow the fishing for the best part of the year, and were at Hiverton for only a few weeks at a time.’
‘How long did that continue?’
‘Oh, only for a year or two. I imagine they were saving their money to buy themselves boats. But what I was going to tell you was that then they were the best of friends — now, as you may have seen, they’re on a rather peculiar footing.
‘Bob, when I first knew him, would be round about thirty. He was a swashbuckling young man with very good looks. You’ve seen those dark eyes of his — they played havoc among the females. And he was a spark in those days, he’d got a joke for everyone.
‘Esau was a few years older and a steadier type altogether. He was always a bit reserved, a bit distant from the other fishermen. He was a skipper, which made a difference. He got his ticket very young. I believe he was very much sought after and had a wonderful record of catches.
‘Well then, as I say, they bought themselves boats — or more likely, Esau bought them: he was the one to have had the money. Esau’s boat was built at Wrackstead. I can remember them bringing it round. It’s unique in the line of fishing boats and there were pictures of it in the Eastern Daily Post.’
‘Can you remember what year that was?’
‘It was the spring of twenty-nine. Mary was having Anne, and she was born on the first of June.’
‘How did they get on with the boats?’
‘Oh, well — at least, Esau did. Bob, I imagine, was paying off instalments, but I don’t think it was that which came in between them. Esau had a spanking year. He was after his second boat. He owned five altogether by thirty-two or three, and later, for no good reason, he sold them off again. You’ll have to do a lot of probing, Inspector, to get to the bottom of Esau.’
‘But this thing… whatever it was?’
‘That’s just what I’m coming to now.’
The vicar re-lit his pipe with a little conscious art; but then, after puffing once or twice, he produced an anticlimax.
‘I don’t know what caused it, and that’s being honest with you. I can’t even be sure of when it took place. They’re chapel, you know, like most of the fishermen, and not so close to me as my own congregation. But something went wrong, that was plain to everyone. You never saw them together again as they were in the old days. Esau shut himself up just the way he is now and Bob — well, you’ve seen him. He changed out of mind.
‘But this is the odd thing, and I could never make it out. Esau gained a remarkable ascendancy over Bob. It seemed that the further they drifted apart, the more Bob stood in awe of him; whenever he was by poor Bob became as quiet as a lamb.
‘Esau, you can guess, had always been the dominant partner, and Bob wasn’t the only one to feel himself subjected. You must have noticed Esau’s standing. He’s a sort of high priest to the fishermen. He’s got more authority than I have with them, and I’m bound to admit that he uses it wisely.
‘But that doesn’t account for his ascendancy over Bob. There you’ve got something quite out of the natural order. I’m certain that Bob hates him — bless me for saying so! — yet he goes in perpetual subjugation to the man.’
‘And you’ve nothing to suggest?’
‘I haven’t, Inspector. This is Hiverton’s mystery and has been for years. If you’re thinking of solving it, then I give you fair warning. I’ve lived half my life with it and have never had an inkling.’
He puffed away complacently, his pale hands on his knees. He was obviously enjoying this chat about his parishioners. But it was getting Gently nowhere, except to confirm his guesses. All that the priest had told him so
