One step forward two steps ...

The inn was a fug of cigarette smoke and Temple coughed as it caught the back of his throat. He saw the same small group of old locals sitting in what they saw as their corner of the bar. This time, instead of the silence that had met their last entry, a murmur of greetings was given to Cantwell.

Temple and Cantwell chose a corner table, after they had ordered. Cantwell sipped his bitter with relish.
"You should have a chat with the old boys, buy them a round of drinks. They might have something interesting to say." He held his hand up to stop Cantwell from interrupting."Don't worry, it'll come out of expenses."

Two large plates of steaming pasties and chips were placed in front of them by a young blonde haired girl. Temple began eating slowly, savouring each mouthful of pastry, potato, meat and carrots. It was delicious, even he could appreciate that. Cantwell, not bothering to test the flavours, demolished his meal, scattering crumbs everywhere. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and thought that he wouldn't mind another.

"Go over and get yourself another pint and some crisps. It's obvious you're still hungry. Then go and offer the old blokes their drinks."

Cantwell didn't need to be told twice and Temple watched as the old men's faces lit up when they were offered the drinks. They readily made room for him to sit with them.

"So you'm back again!" The spokesman for the group said to Cantwell.

"Yeah, why not? 'tis a nice place. Anything interestin' goin' on since we was last 'ere?" He slipped into the Devon burr so that they would feel more at home with him.

"Oh! Plenty! Plenty! Tell 'im, Bob. Tell 'im what 'e saw t'other night." The one called Bob, whose face was as brown and wrinkled as a walnut, just nodded. He said nothing. "Go on, Bob, tell 'im."

Bob eventually cleared his throat, took a long swig of cider, then peered closely at Cantwell. "Well 'twas like this, lad. I were goin' up lane near Dimity's place. It were real dark like and I sees a car nose right up the bank, like. There was some young woman stroking one of them skinny dogs. The other dogs was barkin' their 'eads off." He looked at the group around him to make sure they were all listening. "Then round the corner comes this great big jalopy! Then another old van. Them two stopped and a fancy bloke wearin' a suit like a bloody clown's got out. There was some shoutin' and yellin', I can tell 'e!" He paused again to satisy himself they were all paying him due attention. "Then Soppy gets out and 'elps the girl with the dog. Two other blokes lift a man out of the front of the car up the bank. They puts 'im into the van. Then off they goes leavin' Soppy and the girl. Then, I tell 'e, this girl she drives the motor 'erself. She gets it off the bank and then drives it down the lane."

Cantwell listened carefully, nodding appreciatively where appropriate. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Temple was eavesdropping. As soon as the story was finished, there was a general hubbub from the group Cantwell thanked Bob for the story and said he would go and tell it to his friend.

Once back in the car, Temple was quiet for sometime. "Somehow, I don't think that Mrs Ellacott is telling us everything that's been going on and I wonder why that is. Certainly she's a woman of many talents. Quite a woman, in fact."

Cantwell grinned. "You've said that before, Gov."

"What have I said?"

"That she's quite a woman!" He thought better of elaborating on the point.

"I'll drop you back home, Cantwell, then I'm going into the station. I'll phone you later, if there's anything I need to tell you."

Most of the cars were out of the car pound when Temple arrived. He noticed, however, that Baker was still there and hoped he would not bump into him. The hope was forlorn because no sooner was he inside the entrance, than the sergeant on duty called out to him to tell him to go to Baker's office.

Baker had spotted Temple's arrival and rang the desk sergeant immediately. After he had put the phone down, he wondered exactly how he was going to handle Temple. He would have to be firm but subtle and he prided himself that being subtle was one of his fortes. He knew that Temple did not 'do' firmness from others neither did he appreciate flannel. So, Baker concluded, he would have to go straight to the point, no beating about the bush. As for Cantwell, he would do what he was told, maybe he would need to be allocated new duties. No, he was not the problem. It was Temple who needed careful handling.

As it turned out, the meeting was short, sharp and very much to the point. Baker barely began stating his request for Temple to cease harassing important members of the community, when Temple came right up to his desk and faced him in what Baker termed a menacing pose.

"Sir, before you continue, I think you should know that I have been in touch with former colleagues in Scotland Yard. They have informed me that, at least, three of the people Cantwell and I are investigating, have been involved in serious crimes in the London area. There are a number of investigations concerning them that are still pending. So, sir, I cannot see, in all conscience that we can call off our own work."

Baker visibly paled, "You did not ask my permission before involving another force, Inspector. I .."

"Before you go any further, sir, with all due respect, the Yard would greatly appreciate our co-operation. I don't think they would understand it if we suddenly back off."

Baker chewed at his left knuckle wishing he had never agreed to take Temple. Damn it all, he thought, he has out-manoeuvred me again.

"Well, sir, what do you think? Do I inform them that we are still actively pursuing our lines of investigation?"

Baker remained silent. The prospect of even an OBE were diminishing by the second. He could certainly kiss a knighthood goodbye. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Alright, Temple, go ahead but keep me fully briefed. For God's sake try to keep out of Councillor Bellamy's hair. He's got enough clout to get us all demoted."

"Sir!" Temple stood to attention, without agreeing to anything. Returning to his office, he decided to keep the details of the encounter to himself. What Cantwell did not know, he would not grieve over.

Another Meeting in the Village

The day of the pre-arranged meeting with Brenda Ellacott arrived. Temple and Cantwell drove to the village green early, positioning the car so that they had a clear view of the various streets that converged there. Cantwell observed several locals going into the pub for their lunchtime drink and snack. His own stomach began rumbling actively and loudly. He shuffled on the seat, trying to disguise the cause of the noises from Temple's acute ears. Temple smiled knowing full well that Cantwell's weakness for food was a major driving force in his life.

"We'll have a pint and a pasty, as soon as we've seen Mrs Ellacott. There's no need to fret, Cantwell, so long as she's on time. She usually is reliable."

A few yards further along the High Street, Brenda Ellacott was, in fact, going into Mrs Tyler's shop to buy the twill trousers and sturdy shoes that Mrs Hannaford had recommended. She also bought a grey windcheater to keep out the gusty rain that so often swept the pasture. As she emerged, clutching her shopping bags, she caught sight of Temple's car. Not giving any sign of recognition, she sauntered past and then into the post office and general store. She knew they would have been keeping an eye open for her to appear. She reached into her pocket for the note that she and Mrs Hannaford had concocted together earlier in the morning. She intended to hand it to Temple or Cantwell and say as little as possible to either of them. She felt rather guilty that she was being duplicitous and knew that if she talked to them she was quite capable of giving the game away. Taking the note in her hand, she stood looking at a shelf sporting rows of tinned spaghetti and baked beans. Temple entered the store and indicated that she should join him.

"I can't be long," she said as she stood next to him, "I've written everything you need to know in a note. I won't be back in Starmouth for quite some time. Redbourne intends to keep me at the farm."

"Everything alright?" His voice expressed concern. "You're safe, are you?" She merely nodded, carefully putting the note into his hand then immediately moving away further down the shelves. She stopped to pick up a notepad then, after paying for it, left the store.

Cantwell, sitting observing the comings and goings in the village, saw her leave the store. He watched her head out of the village in the direction of Grange Farm. She had quite a spring in her step, he thought.

Temple lingered a bit longer, bought a copy of the Daily Express, then returned to the car.

"So, what did she have to say, Gov? Couldn't have been much, you were hardly there two minutes before she left."

"Your observations are correct, Cantwell. She said very little. However, she says she's written everything down in this note." He waved the paper in front of Cantwell. "I don't think she was being completely frank with me though. I noticed she had some severe bruising to her face and she seemed rather nervous, not her usual self." He handed the note to Cantwell. "You read it for us both."

Cantwell unfolded the paper and glanced at it for a few seconds before reading it aloud.

"I've been here for over a week now, it seems like forever! Redbourne insists that I stay here until more of the work is done. Then I can go home to collect some of my things.

I had a bit of a run in with the man called Charlie Davey, one of Redbourne's henchmen. He's a rather rough and vicious man. He's managed to upset all of us at the farm. Mrs Hannaford, the former tenant farmer's widow, tells me that Redbourne, Steele and Davey know more than they've told you about Ben's death. In fact, she thought that Davey and Steele were there when Ben died.

There are various things going on with the 'dodgy' dogs. Redbourne has big plans for several meetings coming up in the next month or so. What he's up to is going to be difficult to prove, without involving Soppy Soper. That would NOT (in heavy capital letters) be right and I would have nothing more to do with this should you try to do so! You will have to be patient and think up alternative ways of getting proof. Have you considered finding a police-friendly vet? This might prove difficult, Mrs Hannaford says that most of the local vets are being paid to turn a blind eye to all sorts of illegal activities.

Mrs Hannaford also told me that several of the so-called County set know Redbourne more than passing well. They wouldn't want to see him go under since it might affect their pockets!

I'll leave another note at the 'drop' on Wednesday or Thursday. However, it looks as though I'm in this for the long haul.

Best wishes
Benda Ellacott."

Cantwell stared at the paper, "That's it, Gov, not much hard information, is there?"

"Maybe, maybe not. This Hannaford woman sounds useful though. Also the County set keep cropping up, don't they? Bloody hell, Cantwell, are we still living in Feudal England? We'll have to tie Redbourne into Eager's and Ellacott's deaths. Not even the County set will want to know him then - stuffed pockets or not!" He glanced at his watch. "Come on, time for your lunch. Your stomach rumblings are getting deafening."