Temple was aware that Truscott was fantasising his way through the daily grind of detection. However, he decided that as long as it kept up his interest in solving the Redbourne case, he'd say nothing.
Cantwell had been discharged from hospital. Baker tried to arrange a place for him at a local convalescent home but he insisted on returning to his own place. His mother came to look after him. Her hostility to everything to do with police work was understandable. It fixed most pointedly on Temple. She saw him as being at the root of her son's problems. However, she mellowed when Temple visited most days and Cantwell appeared to welcome his visits.
Debbie had been sent back to Starmouth Hospital from the Royal Devon and Exeter, once she was deemed to be out of danger. Now, she was in a side room off the main womens' ward.
Consumed with guilt, Temple went to see both of them as often as he could. He ferried letters from one to the other, becoming a veritable go-between.
Above all, Temple was desperate to get word to Brenda at Grange Farm. He guessed that she held the ultimate key to solving the Redbourne connection. But how to get word to her, without blowing the whole situation, worried him.
Truscott, high on the adroit, reckless behaviour of Mike Hammer and Philip Marlowe, and with the enthusiasm of youth, saw no such difficulties. So when Temple arrived at his home late one evening after seeing Cantwell, he had formulated a plan of action.
Truscott's mother wanted Temple to sit in the front room, knowing the mess her son's room was. However, Truscott answered the door and led him upstairs before she could intervene.
Temple picked up a crumpled copy of 'The Big Sleep' lying on the chair next to Truscott's bed. He flicked through it and smiled ruefully
"Truscott, we're not Philip Marlowe and this isn't Los Angeles!" Truscott found his face reddening. He felt like a schoolboy caught out smoking behind the bicycle shed.
"As long as you don't try out any of his inept ways of solving crime, we'll be alright! And before you defend the way he sets about his sleuthing, go and see 'The Big Sleep' at the flicks. It's on in Exeter, as it happens, this week. You'll see there's a trail of death and destruction lying in his wake. And there's been enough of that already in Starmouth." He paused and put the book down. "Now, you phoned the office earlier and said you wanted to speak to me. What's it about?"
"I've done a lot of thinking, Gov. You told me that we needed to be in touch with Brenda Ellacott but that it was too risky. Well, I've thought about it. Why don't I try and meet up with this Soppy Soper and ask him to give her a letter. I can pretend that I'm an old flame of hers."
Temple sighed and shook his head, "He'd never trust you. He was always Cantwell's contact. He was very jumpy even then. Always looking over his shoulder."
"Well why don't I wander round the village. Surely, she'll have to go to the local shop."
"She used to, but don't forget Redbourne's going to be more careful after the shooting." He paused. "However, I think you're right about one thing, we'll need to be in the neighbourhood of the farm. We'll go there tomorrow after I've allocated duties down at the docks to some of the others. Got to keep the Boss happy, haven't we?"
Temple left the Truscott house later than he'd intended. It was already dark as he walked down the High Street. He became aware that he was being followed. He had paused to look into a shop window and saw a tall, thin man on the opposite side of the street stop suddenly and bend to tie up his shoe laces. Walking more slowly, Temple paused once more, appearing to look into another shop. He saw the reflection of the man quite clearly. He also stopped and this time lit a cigarette. Temple guessed that if the man was going to attack, he would only do so away from the High Street. So, he quickened his steps and headed into a small alley that he knew led round the back of the shops. He ducked into the brick arch of the third shop. From there, he had a clear view of anyone coming. The man had been taken unaware by the sudden change in pace of his quarry. He ran across the road and into the alley.
Temple saw that it was Steele. He smiled to himself; it confirmed that Redbourne was involved up to his eyes. Taking out his truncheon, which he always kept for an eventuality like this, he waited till Steele backed out of the alley and stood looking up and down the main street. With a swift stroke, Temple brought the truncheon down hard and expertly onto the back of Steele's head. The man's knees buckled and, with a harsh groan, he fell onto the pavement.
Temple bent down, although slow, Steele's pulse was firm. He dragged the unconscious man back into the alley and left him there. "Don't want anyone tripping over you, do we? Hope your head hurts like hell, when you come to." Temple whispered in Steele's unhearing ear.
Whistling to himself, with a sense of satisfaction, Temple continued walking at a brisk pace until he arrived back at his flat. By then, there was a steady rain falling. This only increased his sense of well-being.
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