The New Team

Temple sent a note to Baker requesting Truscott's transfer from uniform to act up in place of the injured Cantwell. He did not expect to be, nor was he, refused. Pleased with the apparent activity round the docks, Baker was only too ready to comply. As long as Temple stayed away from Redbourne and the Blandford, he would be satisfied.

Willis' trail seemed to have gone cold. Temple waited for any possible news from Brenda at Grange Farm but in the interim in order to lull Redbourne into a false sense of security, he and Truscott spent time at the docks. Two loads of contraband spirits and tobacco were found. An additional haul of a small amount of heroin was discovered in a consignment of sugar from the West Indies.

Baker, desperately convincing himself that Redbourne was not involved, was thrilled by the results at the docks. He informed his superiors at Divisional Headquarters that these smuggling operations were undoubtedly associated with the shootings. Cantwell was hailed as the man who had uncovered drug smuggling into the South West. Temple was chivied to make an arrest. The press, mainly local now, pestered Baker for information and he was eager to supply it.

Baker basked in this recent elevation of his profile. His wife was convinced he would receive an Honour in the New Year's List, if only he could get a quick result. Then who knew where his career might go!

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Truscott and Temple played lip service to Baker's demands. However, after a morning at the docks, Temple winked at Truscott and they headed for the car.

"Right, Truscott, we're off to do some proper detecting now."

"Where are we going, Gov?"

"Patience! Patience! You'll see soon enough."

As they drove out of Starmouth towards Woodbury, Truscott became puzzled. When they stopped in a muddy lane with high hedge-rows on either side, right in the middle of nowhere, he was uncertain what they were doing.

"Right, Truscott, out of the car, boots on!" Temple reached into the back of the car and put on a dirty pair of Wellingtons.

"I haven't got any boots, Gov!"

"God Almighty, Truscott, you and Cantwell are Devon boys! He never had boots either! Lucky for you, there's an old pair in the boot!" He laughed "Boots in the boot! Come on, lad, don't look so bloody miserable. I thought you wanted to be a detective!"

"I didn't think I'd be wading in mud!"

"Didn't you now! Well, detecting is done where the action is, Truscott, not on the mean streets of New York."

Temple's dig at Truscott's reading habits irritated him but he bit his tongue. Instead of responding, he put on the filthy boots which were, at least, two sizes too big for him.

They walked along the hedge until they reached the gap behind the training circuit. There was no one in sight, so they ventured into the top pasture. The farm looked quiet, in the valley below, smoke rising from the chimney. Soppy had just driven the cows into the yard.

"Right, Truscott, let's see if there's anything for us." He went behind the shed and felt around the ground. Lifting the stone, he found the note that he had been waiting for. He waved it at Truscott.

Back in the car, he read the note out loud. Truscott was surprised by this turn of events and waited with bated breath for the news that obviously pleased Temple. 'This was more like it,' he thought.