Free The Field by John B. Keane

can’t beat fear and ignorance. You’re up against a stone wall.
    Fr Murphy: What about Mick Flanagan? Do you want to question him?
    Sergeant: Waste of time! Too crafty! He’s been questioned ten times already.
    Fr Murphy: What about Dandy?
    Sergeant: Dandy and the Bull are first cousins. There’s no hope there. Dandy would be all right if it weren’t for Tadhg and the Bull.
    Fr Murphy: The young lad, Leamy?
    Sergeant: The mother has him sworn to silence. He’ll never renege on her. His lips are stitched forever.
    Fr Murphy: He won’t easily bear the burden of that legacy in the years ahead of him. [Pause] What about Mrs Flanagan herself then? She wasn’t questioned before.
    Sergeant: Maimie! It might be worth a try, at that.
    Fr Murphy: You’re a good-looking fellow, Tom. That might hold.
    Sergeant: [Laughs, turns and puts down drink] With all due respects to you, Father, I’d chance anything if I thought ’twould solve the crime.
    Fr Murphy: You needn’t go that far! Anyway, two wrongs don’t make a right.
    Sergeant: You wouldn’t say that if you had my job.
    [He calls Mick from back room. Enter Mick]
    Fr Murphy: If you’ve no objection, we’d like to talk to your wife.
    Mick: I’ve no objection, if she hasn’t. I’ll call her. [Goes to the stairway; calls] Maimie, you’re wanted.
    Maimie: [Offstage; calls back] I’ll be down in a minute.
    Mick: You won’t get much out of Maimie, if she’s in a sulk.
    Sergeant: Strange, isn’t it, Mick, the way nobody knows anything about anything?
    Mick: Ah, ’tis a terrible state of affairs! Of course it’s not our job. My job is auctioneering. Father Murphy says Mass and it’s up the guards to catch the murderer.
    Sergeant: If the public won’t co-operate, there’s nothing the guards can do.
    Mick: They’ll get their wages, no matter what happens.
    Fr Murphy: But the public, Mick. They’ve …
    Mick: Ah, come off it now, Father! The public aren’t getting paid. ’Tis the other way around. We’re payin’ the guards and when they can’t do their job they blame it on the public. No reflections on you, Sergeant. God knows, you’re a sound man at your job.
    [Enter Maimie]
    Maimie: All right! I confess everything! I killed him! I’ve said goodbye to the kids. [Raises her hands over her head] Take me, Sergeant.
    Fr Murphy: This isn’t a laughing matter, Mrs Flanagan. A man has been murdered, a murder isn’t a joke.
    Maimie: All right! So a man has been murdered! What’s it to me? I’ve nine kids to look after. Look at the state of me from cooking and scrubbing and scraping but, thank God, I’m off on my annual holidays soon.
    Sergeant: What annual holidays?
    Maimie: I’m pregnant again, so I’ll have a holiday with the new baby; the only one we’ll ever have together.
    Mick: Ah, now, Maimie, not in front of Fr Murphy.
    Maimie: You’re the fault of it, goddam you! Just look at him. You’d think butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.
    Mick: Ah, Maimie …
    Maimie: I’ll be carrying all through the summer. All over you! … My head is gone queer from it! … what was it you wanted me for, Father?
    Fr Murphy: It’s in connection with the murder.
    Maimie: He did it … take him away! I’d swear him to the gallows if I thought I could spend a year without having a baby.
    Sergeant: Seriously, Maimie.
    Maimie: I’m serious, Sergeant. I’m more serious than you.
    Sergeant: I think maybe you can help us. You may be the one who can break this case.
    Maimie: Me! How can I help you?
    Sergeant: Well, you met the dead man. He was here the day of the auction. Did you hear or see anything that might help us?
    Maimie: Hear or see anything! What in the name of God are you talking about?
    Sergeant: The Bull McCabe was here that day?
    Maimie: He was.
    Sergeant: Didn’t he have an argument