“You’re probably right,” agreed Bord. “There’s not much you don’t know about events in Lunesdale, Mr. Staple. Now you may be right about Sam Borwick, that he’d have bolted, but there’s this to it: the manager and overseers will know how many men they’ve got on the pay roll, and if one of them has bolted—well, he had a reason for bolting, for from what I can remember of their regulations, the gangers aren’t paid in full until they’ve worked the time they signed on for, so if a man bolts, he’s got a strong reason to do so. Now, can you give me any description of this Sam Borwick?”
“Carrots,” said Staple, “his head’s real carrots, always has been. He’s a hefty chap, not very tall, but built solid, great shoulders he’s got and muscles on his arms like a joint of meat. And he’s got eyes that go with his hair, brown eyes, but what I’d call hot, as though some of the colour from his hair got into his eyes. I’ve known Sam by sight since he was a nipper and there’s no mistaking him. He was never no beauty and the other youngsters, they always called him ‘Carrots.’ ”
“Well, if he wanted to get around without being recognised, he’d have dyed his hair,” said Bord, but old Staple snorted derisively.
“Sounds easy, Inspector. He’d have had a lot of dyeing to do. His eyebrows and eyelashes, the hair on his chest, even on his arms, he was proper carrots. And remember, if he got a job up yonder, he’d’ve been living in the huts with the other gangers—no privacy. If a chap dyes his hair black and his chest and arms are all carrots, the other chaps are going to notice and everybody in the place’ll hear about it.”
“I dare say you’re right,” said Bord. “Well, I’m going to ask the manager to parade the men, so that you can have a look at all of them.”
“Sam won’t be there,” said Staple.
2
“You’ll have heard that we’ve been investigating trouble at High Garth, the empty farmhouse over the fell, about five miles away, Mr. Wharton,” said Bord. They were sitting in the manager’s office and Wharton replied:
“Yes, I’ve heard, Inspector. Now let’s get the facts clear. You’re investigating a case of assault, which occurred this afternoon, and you’ve found a man’s body in the house. Now tell me this. Was the dead man killed recently, today or yesterday?”
“No, he wasn’t. His body must have been there for months,” replied Bord. “Anything I tell you is in confidence, of course.”
“That’s all right, I know when to hold my tongue,” said Wharton. “How you’re going to find out what happened months ago I don’t see, but this afternoon’s a different cup of tea. You’re thinking one of our chaps attacked your farmer, perhaps? Well, I can tell you you’re wrong: this was one of the few afternoons when we knew just where all our chaps were—and we can prove it.”
He touched a bell on his desk, and two men came into the office. “These are our overseers, Mr. Lawley and Mr. Wright,” said Wharton. “This is Inspector Bord, Lawley, he’s looking into this story Turner talked about. Now tell him about this afternoon, Lawley, and just how it is you know the gangers were all present and correct, and no chance of any absentees.”
Lawley described precautions taken when blasting was in progress and then went on: “We’ve got forty-eight men working on the pipe line. You’ll know as well as I do that you can’t keep tabs on four dozen men when they’re scattered or milling around, here, there, and everywhere. They’re careless devils, a lot of them. The only way to ensure safety on this job is to divide them up into gangs, four gangs of twelve, each with an overseer, and it’s the overseer’s job to keep his eyes on his gang, every man jack of them. In times past, we’ve had men injured when the charge was delayed in action and the men thought the job was finished and scattered, getting too near the blasting point. Well, the rule now is that gangs have to stick together in their appointed area until I send the overseers word that operations are finished. I can tell you—and so can the other overseers, that the men were all around the blasting site from one o’clock until four o’clock, when we knocked off. That satisfy you?”
“It will indeed, Mr. Lawley, couldn’t be better,” replied Bord. “It’s not often we get such a clear piece of evidence when we’re asking about such a large body of men.”
“Well, you can see the other overseers, Walton and Lang,” said Lawley. “You’ll find they can answer for the men they were in charge of. Now would you be willing to tell us this, Inspector? Have you got anything against any of our men, or is your presence here just due to the belief that labour gangs, drawn in the main from industrial areas, are a likely source of criminals?”
“We’ve nothing against any of your men, so far as we know,” rejoined Bord, “and our inquiry isn’t confined to the men here. We’re pursuing inquiries right through the valley and the whole rural district. There’s one chap we want to get a line on, and it’s possible he may be employed here, but we don’t know. Mr. Staple here could identify the man if he saw him.”
“He’s a youngish chap, thirty-five or so,” said Staple. “He was always called Carrots. He’s got hair that’s as bright as flame, real shining red, and the hair on his arms and chest is red, his eyes are brownish-red and he’s a hefty fellow, huge shoulders, and a bit bandy about the legs.”
Wharton turned to
