‘I see,’ she said, making a note. ‘I’m sorry if I appear impertinent, Mr Flynn, but what’s your line of work? I’m trying to get a picture of the club and its members, you understand.’
He chuckled. ‘I don’t mind. I’ve an engineering business just outside the village. We make machine parts and tools.’
‘Oh, I think we’ve passed your workshop,’ she said, brightly. ‘We have, haven’t we, Armstrong?’
‘I believe so, my lady,’ I said. ‘Out on the Woodworthy road.’
‘That’s the place,’ he said.
‘I do love engineering,’ said Lady Hardcastle, enthusiastically. ‘Is business booming?’
He laughed. ‘Not exactly.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘If we don’t get some decent orders in soon, we may have to close. The bank is after us for loan payments and I’m not certain we can make them.’
Lady Hardcastle looked slightly embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Flynn, I didn’t mean to pry.’
‘Think nothing of it,’ he said. ‘I’m telling anyone that will listen in case they can come up with a plan to save the place. It’s a family business; I’d hate to see it close.’
‘I understand,’ she said, kindly. ‘Have you been with the rugby club long?’
‘Quite a while, yes. I played at school and joined the club about when I started my apprenticeship with my dad.’
‘It means a lot to you, then?’
‘It does, my lady. It’s like a great big family, if you get my meaning.’
‘I think I do, yes,’ she said. ‘Well, thank you for your time, Mr Flynn; we shan’t keep you from your training any longer. Would you be kind enough to send Mr… Mr Molson over?’
He stood. ‘My pleasure. That’s Big Jim over there.’ He pointed to a stocky man by the touchline. ‘Looks like the tubby old gundiguts could do with a break.’
He trotted off to confer with his teammate.
‘It was him,’ I said. ‘He stole the trophy to melt it down and sell the silver to pay off his debts. He loves the club and he wanted the other stuff as souvenirs.’
Lady Hardcastle laughed her warm, infectious laugh. ‘And he ignored the booze and cash because he didn’t want to rob the club. The cup belongs to whoever it is that organized the competition – and he doesn’t care about them – and the insurance would cover the cost of replacement anyway,’ she said.
‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘Case closed.’
‘Hold your horses there, Flo,’ she said with another chuckle. ‘Let’s see what “Big Jim” has to say for himself before we lock Flying Billy in the chokey.’
Big Jim was already lumbering towards us. I had assumed that “Big” Jim would be tall, but this chap was shorter than Lady Hardcastle by a couple of inches. No, in his case, “big” referred to his girth – he was almost as broad as he was tall and his head seemed to be connected directly to his body without the complication or inconvenience of a neck.
He clumped up the wooden steps. ‘You wanted to see me?’ he said.
‘If you wouldn’t mind,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Do please sit down.’
He did as he was bidden, and I winced as the chair creaked a little under his weight.
‘We’re just trying to get to the bottom of the theft the other night,’ she said. ‘And since you were one of the last to leave, we wondered if you might have seen anything.’
‘I’m not sayin’ I’s proud of it, mind – our ma drummed it into us as kids that strong drink was the path to wickedness – but I was drunk as a wheelbarrow. I could barely see me feet to find me way home, never mind noticin’ no strangers nor nothin’.’
I smirked.
‘Nothing at all? No strange sounds? Unusual movements in the hedgerows?’
He thought for a moment, staring earnestly at his boots. ‘Well…’ he began, hesitantly. ‘I suppose there might have been some rustlin’ in the trees along by the track there.’ He nodded towards the track that led out onto the road. ‘But it might just have been Old Mr Fox on his way back from raidin’ some poor blighter’s hen house. Or a hedgehog, maybe.’
‘Possibly,’ she said, making a careful note. ‘Of the four of you, yours is the house farthest from the club?’
‘’S right,’ he said. ‘T’others had all gone their separate ways by the time I got back to the farm.’
‘You own the farm?’
He laughed. ‘No, m’lady, I’m one of Sir Hector’s tenants. Took over from our dad when he passed on.’
‘Aha,’ she said, making another note. ‘Did you wake your wife when you got in?’
Another laugh. ‘No, m’lady, I i’n’t married. Got my eye on a lovely young girl, mind. I hopes to marry her soon, but I got a few things to sort out first.’
‘I see,’ she said, looking up and smiling. ‘I hope you find the happiness you seek.’
He nodded his thanks.
‘We’re just trying to get a picture of what happened that evening,’ she said, ‘so we shan’t hold you up any longer, but I take it you won’t mind if we need to speak to you again?’
‘Not at all, m’lady,’ he said, getting up. ‘Glad to be of service. And I needed a break anyway.’ He nodded towards the team who were doing something frightfully energetic on the pitch. ‘You want me to send anyone else?’
‘That would be most kind,’ she said, consulting her notes again. ‘Mr Tredegar, please.’
‘Right you are,’ he said and clumped back down the steps. ‘Oi!’ he yelled. ‘Lofty! Get over here, ya gurt lanky bean-pole. Lady here wants a word.’
Lady Hardcastle sighed. ‘Well I could have done that,’ she said.
‘No, my lady, your voice isn’t anywhere near that loud.’
‘Yours is. If I want uncouth yelling, you’re always my first choice.’
‘I’m flattered, my lady.’
If you put “Big Jim” on a floured kitchen table and rolled him out, the result would be Donovan “Lofty” Tredegar. He must have been at least six-foot-four, and although he appeared strong and athletic, there was nothing of the bulk of Jim Molson. He trotted towards us with some grace, but as he sat at Lady Hardcastle’s invitation, there was a certain ungainliness as he folded himself into the chair.
She introduced our purpose as before and once again asked him what he had seen that morning as he went home. Much like the others, it was evident that he had been too tipsy to notice anything very much.
‘I take it from your accent that you’re not from Gloucestershire,’ said Lady Hardcastle when we had explored the very little he knew about the events of early Saturday morning.
‘No, ma’am,’ he said. ‘Cornish through and through. Our family’s been fishin’ out of Mousehole since the 1600s.’
‘You didn’t join them?’
‘No, ma’am. I never could get on with the boats – I gets seasick, see? And then when I grew to be this tall, I was more of a hindrance than a help, so I chucked it in, like.’
‘And what do you do now?’ she asked.
‘Baker’s apprentice,’ he said proudly.