Rutledge thanked him and went on to the door of the room used sometimes as a parlor for hotel guests or as a dining room for small private groups.

The man standing there, looking out a side window toward a small garden, turned as he heard Rutledge come in. He was tall and thin, with a long face and brown hair flecked with gray.

“Inspector Rutledge?” he asked, his eyes scanning Rutledge with intent interest. “I’m Inspector Norman, from Hastings.”

They shook hands, and then Rutledge got to the point. “I’ve been sent here in your place. I hope you have no objections.”

“Not really, although I’m not happy to have a murderer loose so close to Hastings. I hope your appearance on the scene doesn’t drive him to greener pastures.”

Rutledge smiled. “Indeed. Know anything about Eastfield that would be useful to an outsider coming in?”

“Only that it’s never been a problem. The usual village troubles—a fight now and again, petty theft, neighbors upset over real or imagined trespass, domestic quarrels where someone is hurt. A lorry accident or two over the years. They’re mostly peaceful, and Walker is a good man. He keeps his patch quiet. Still, all three men were in the war. And I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s your connection.”

“There was an entire company from Eastfield. But Anthony Pierce wasn’t one of them.”

“No, I’d heard he asked not to be given charge of men he knew. Very wise of him, in my opinion. Harder to keep order and discipline if you grew up with your men.”

“Or sometimes easier,” Rutledge commented.

“There’s that as well,” Norman answered. “Still, it doesn’t mean that this trouble didn’t stem from the war. I expect Anthony Pierce kept an eye out for the Eastfield men. If there was something to hide, he’d have known it. Or someone thought he did. Otherwise, why put an ordinary soldier’s identity disc in an officer’s mouth?”

Which was a very good point.

Norman prepared to take his leave. “Just keep this bottled up in Eastfield,” he said. “And if there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

With a nod, he walked past Rutledge and was gone.

Rutledge found himself thinking that Norman had wasted no time in coming here to look over the competition. He hadn’t been in Eastfield more than a few hours. It occurred to him to wonder who had alerted Inspector Norman to his arrival.

Hamish said unexpectedly, “Someone who doesna’ like yon Mr. Pierce’s intervention.”

Rutledge spent the next hour reading through the statements he’d been given, and they were all consistent with what he’d learned during the morning. Apparently no one had left the pub within half an hour of the time Jeffers walked out of it to his death. And no one in the Roper household had heard anything that would have indicated that someone had been prowling around the barn the night Roper was killed. The old dog on the floor by the bedside of the dead man’s father had slept as soundly as his master, his hearing diminished by age.