‘Like I said, John Hammel started it. He killed himself and, in the religious community, that’s a big sin, especially back then.’
‘Yes, butwhydid he hang himself?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Yes, I believe it does.’
Frank stares blankly for a moment. ‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know why John Hammel hung himself?’
‘That’s what I said, but this curse … it ruined our family for decades.’
Stephen stops scribbling words on the page and looks up. ‘Interesting,’ he says. ‘Just your family?’
‘No, a lot of families seemed to be affected by it.’
‘Why’s that do you think?’
‘Good God, man, I don’t know how curses work!’
Stephen bites his bottom lip. ‘So … Sophia was interested in this curse. She was asking questions about it and you got into an argument. Then what?’
‘Yes, she said it was for a school project, but I didn’t believe her. I told her to leave it alone. I left the house that night and, when I came home later, I went straight to sleep.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘I’m sorry?’
Stephen looks him dead in the eyes. ‘Where did you go after your argument with your daughter?’
Frank opens his mouth, but then closes it. ‘I went to see some friends of mine. Someone in the village council. We had work to do before the next monthly newsletter came out. It was a late night.’
‘Your friend’s names are?’
‘William Davies, Diane Bevan and Ceri Griffiths.’
Stephen writes them down, making a mental note to tell the detective that they finally have a full name for Griffiths; the fourth founding family of the village council. ‘Anything else?’ he asks.
‘Yes. Sophia liked to spend time sitting underneath The Hanging Tree. She often went there. I saw her there the next morning while I was letting the ducks out into the yard. She often left her sketchbook up there hidden in the tree so it didn’t get ruined. Not always, but sometimes she did. I get the feeling she didn’t want me seeing what she drew.’
Stephen pauses, Frank’s words not quite clicking into the right place again. It answered why Stephen had found her sketchbook hidden in the tree, at least. Frank’s farm is all the way on the other side of the village, so if he’d been letting the ducks out into the yard, how the hell had he seen his daughter at The Hanging Tree, which was situated near Rosemore Cottage?
‘Do you often keep your ducks at the cottage?’
‘What?’
Stephen shifts in his seat, a warmth spreading across his chest. ‘You said you saw your daughter while you were letting the ducks out into the yard in the morning, but how could you when your farm isn’t anywhere near the tree? Who were you visiting at Rosemore Cottage? Or do you keep your ducks there?’
Frank drums his fingers on the table. ‘You’re very perceptive.’
‘It’s my job.’
‘Very well. Yes, I was at the cottage. I didn’t live there, but I still owned it at the time.’
‘Were you letting the ducks out or visiting someone?’
‘Neither.’
