“That’s sense,” said Staple. “Now, see here, Inspector, 1 came up here to see if I could help you by recognising carroty Sam. I follow what Mr. Wharton meant when he said, ‘This isn’t the Army,’ and you can’t order free blokes around like you can the troops.”
“Yes, yes, I follow that and I don’t want to make difficulties or raise a riot,” said Bord; “but I want to know if all your hands are in the camp. Can you get that question answered?”
“I’ll see to it,” put in Lawley. “If you’d insisted on having your way, Inspector, marching ’em past, we’d have had trouble, sure enough, but since you’re meeting us, seeing our difficulties, I’ll do my best to help you. I’ll go round the huts and I’ll get Walton-to help me. We can talk to the chaps. Any reason why I shouldn’t tell them the assault happened this afternoon and we know where they all were this afternoon?”
“No, you can tell them that,” agreed Bord and Lawley went on:
“And seeing it’s Mr. Staple here who was to identify the man you’re looking for, why, he can come round the place with me. No one’s going to take him for a policeman, no offence meant.”
Staple chuckled. “That’s a right good idea,” he said. “How about it, Inspector?”
“All right,” agreed Bord. “You’ll report if any men are missing, Mr. Lawley? And I’ll get Mr. Wharton to give me details of any men who deserted, so to speak, during the past year, left the job without giving notice and didn’t wait for their bonus money.”
“I’ll give you the details all right,” rejoined Wharton.
3
Staple followed Lawley to the big hut which was the men’s recreation room, and Staple found himself stared at by the men who were slouching in their chairs, some of them round the television screen, some reading papers. Lawley spoke up, loud and clear. “There you are, Mr. Staple. You wanted to see how our chaps fill in their spare time. Not so snug as a farmhouse kitchen, maybe, but not bad on the whole, is it?” Staple played up. “Looks champion to me,” he said. “You lads are well off, by gum, you are. When I was a young ’un —I’m a farmer as you’ve guessed—I worked on a farm five miles from home, and I had to tramp it, not even a bike, couldn’t afford one. Left home six every morning and lucky if I were back home by eight of an evening. Now you’ve got a heavy job, up here, I know that, but once work’s over, you’ve got no tramping to do.”
“And they get a decent hot meal,” added Lawley. There was a burst of raucous laughter, and someone shouted: “Wanting a job, Granddad?”
“Now don’t you go laughing at me,” said Staple. “I’m seventy-six and I’ve done enough work to merit me pension. But if some of the lads says to me, ‘I’m fed up with farming, I’d sooner work on the pipe line, not such long hours’—well, I can tell them they might do worse. Any of you lads ever worked on the land?” he asked.
“Aye, ’twas a mug’s game too,” put in one big heavy dark tough.
Staple was sharp enough, despite his age. He counted the men as his eyes went round from chair to chair, table to table. There were thirty-two men in the room.
“Have you joined the police in your old age, Granddad?” asked one.
“Don’t you talk silly. I’ve got six acres to farm, and eight head o’ grazing cattle across the valley yonder,” retorted Staple, then he added: “I know what you’re getting at. You saw me in a police car, that it? Well, the Inspector gave me a lift. There’s been a mite of trouble, as you may have heard. A friend of mine, Mr. Brough, he was knocked down this afternoon, over the fell yonder, and seeing as I know the fell side a darned sight better than the Inspector does, I came up here with him to tell him about the fell grazing rights and that—Mr. Brough’s land, that is. And I took the chance of coming up here to see how you lads was fixed.” Lawley intervened here and told them the time Brough had been injured. “Right convenient for the Inspector,” he added cheerfully. “We was all on the job, every man jack of us, as you chaps know.”
“But that’s not the whole of it,” put in a man at the end of the hut. “They’ve found a stiff in that old farmhouse, haven’t they?”
“Aye, they have. Been dead for months, I’m told,” said Lawley, “so you needn’t go getting in a flap, Tom Martin. You’ve only been here six weeks, and so’s Thomas. If I was you, I should keep quiet about that and leave it to the police. We’ve got this afternoon sorted out nicely. Now, Mr. Staple, you come and see the small canteen and the sleeping quarters. We’d better hurry, or else the Inspector will be driving off and leaving you to tramp home.”
“ ’Twouldn’t be the first time I’d tramped over Bowland,” said Staple cheerfully. He followed Lawley into the small canteen, a hut where tea and coffee were served. Eight men were sitting at tables there, playing cards or dominoes, and eight pairs of eyes stared up at Staple, as he said, “Good evening, lads. If I were a few years younger I’d come and cadge a job in this outfit. You look cosy, by gum you do, tea laid on till bedtime: that’d suit me fine.”
“We do our best,” said Lawley. “Come and look at the cubicles. If the chaps are poorly we’ve got
