Leamy: Are you afraid, Mud?
Maimie: I was never afraid once. I feared nothing that walked the face of the earth until my first child was born. A child makes a prisoner of a woman, but Leamy, you’re a lovely gaoler … come on to Mass …
[They start to cross to exit]
Maimie: God, we’re a pity, Leamy … the whole bunch of us.
Leamy: Except for the small man, that Mr Broderick, and he’s gone to England. He was no pity. He was a brave man.
Maimie: Promise me, on your word of honour, no more talk about the killing. No matter who asks you.
Leamy: Yes, Muddy. I promise. I’ll always do whatever you tell me.
Maimie: [Heartbroken] And what can I tell you, love?
[Leamy exits. Maimie follows into church. They take their place among the parishioners and we cut to the bishop’s sermon]
Bishop: ‘Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. But rather be afraid of him who is able to destroy both body and soul in Hell.’
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, Amen.
Dearly beloved brethren, these are the words of Christ Himself. He was speaking about truth. How many of you would deny Christ? How many of you, like Peter, would stand up and say: ‘I know not the Man!’ but you can lie without saying a word; you can lie without opening your lips; you can lie by silence.
Five weeks ago in this parish, a man was murdered – he was brutally beaten to death. For five weeks the police have investigated and not one single person has come forward to assist them. Everywhere they turned, they were met by silence, a silence of the most frightful and diabolical kind – the silence of the lie. In God’s name, I beg you, I implore you, if any of you knows anything, to come forward and to speak without fear.
This is a parish in which you understand hunger. But there are many hungers. There is a hunger for good – a natural hunger. There is the hunger of the flesh – a natural understandable hunger. There is a hunger for home, for love, for children. These things are good – they are good because they are necessary. But there is also the hunger for land. And in this parish, you, and your fathers before you knew what it was to starve because you did not own your own land – and that has increased; this unappeasable hunger for land. But how far are you prepared to go to satisfy this hunger. Are you prepared to go to the point of robbery? Are you prepared to go to the point of murder? Are you prepared to kill for land? Was this man killed for land? Did he give his life’s blood for a field? If so, that field will be a field of blood and it will be paid for in thirty pieces of silver – the price of Christ’s betrayal – and you, by your silence will share in that betrayal.
Among you there is a murderer! You may even know his name, you may even have seen him commit this terrible crime – through your silence, you share his guilt, your innocent children will grow up under the shadow of this terrible crime, and you will carry this guilt with you until you face your Maker at the moment of judgement …
If you are afraid to go to the police, then come to your priests, or come to me. And if there is one man among you – one man made after Christ’s likeness – he will stand up and say: ‘There! There he is! There is the murderer!’ And that man will have acknowledged Christ before men and Christ will acknowledge him before His Father in Heaven. But if you, by your silence, deny Christ before men, He will disown you in Heaven, and I, as His representative, will have a solemn duty to perform. I will place this parish under interdict and then there will be a silence more terrible than the first. The church bell will be silent: the Mass bell will not be heard; the voice of the confessional will be stilled and in your last moment will be the most dreadful silence of all for you will go to face your Maker without the last sacrament on your lips … and all because of your silence now. In God’s name, I beg of you to speak before it is too late. ‘I am the way, says Christ, and the truth. Do not be afraid of those who can kill the body but cannot kill the soul. But rather, be afraid of him who can destroy both body and soul in hell.’
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, Amen.
SCENE 3
[Action takes place in the bar of Mick Flanagan’s public house.
The time is evening, five days later.
Present are Mick Flanagan, the Bull McCabe, his son, Tadhg, the Bird O’Donnell, Maggie Butler and Dandy McCabe.
Mick Flanagan stands behind the counter.
The Bull McCabe is in process of counting money which is being accepted by Mick]
Bull: [Counting at table] £310 … £320 … £330 … £340 … £350 [To Maggie] Now, no one can say you didn’t get a fair price. [To Mick] I’ll have a receipt for that.
Mick: I have it here for you.
[Mick locates a receipt book and commences to write. The Bull accepts. Mick takes the money and goes to Maggie. He puts money in Maggie’s lap, while all stand around]
Mick: Here’s your money. ’Tis all there, every penny of £350. It’s a fine bundle of notes.
Bull: Honest got and honest given … and now, Mick Flanagan, fill a drink for the house.
[Mick goes behind bar]
Bird: A drop of whiskey for me.
Dandy: A jigger o’ rum.
Bull: Give ’em whatever they want. ’Tisn’t everyday that this class o’ money makes an appearance.
Bird: ’Tis a high pile o’ money. You’re blessed with luck in the decent man you met, Mrs Butler.
Maggie: I have the money taken now and there’s no more to be said.
Tadhg: ’Tis a fair exchange, considering.
Maggie: So you say, but there’s many that think that £800 would have been fairer.
Bull: All gossip … nothing but jealous gossip by nosey neighbours who couldn’t pay for the site of a sit-down lavatory, not to mind a field. They’re great warrants to talk but when it comes to forkin’ out the cash, where are they? I am the man with the money – hard-earned and got fair – and I’m not ashamed to say, ’twas the last penny I possessed.
Tadhg: ’Twas every half-penny we owned and we had to flog five heifers to put it together.
Bull: God, I was lonesome after that little yellow heifer.
Tadhg: She was a beauty.
Bull: She was a little queen, boy! The step of this one was like a dropping leaf, Dandy.
Tadhg: The other four were real ladies too. They were shapely cattle, by God they were. They sold well, Da. You’ll have to admit that.
Bull: And we had to borrow from the bank. We’re paupers but isn’t it better to be a pauper and have a clean conscience about your debts?
Bird: Oh, by God, that’s well spoken.
Dandy: Nicely thrown together. Nicely.
Bull: Isn’t it better to have our principles than be millionaires. Isn’t it, Tadhg?
Tadhg: You’re a straight man, Da.
Dandy: None straighter.
Bull: If a man isn’t straight, he might as well be dead.
Bird: I admire a straight man.
[Mick serves them with drinks]
Bull: I grudge no man his property, but a lot of the hangin’ thieves begrudge me.
Tadhg: ’Tis all jealousy.
Bull: [Paying for drinks] Jealousy and spite … here’s the good health to all of us …
All: Good luck.
Bull: We have as fine a farm now as the best and maybe more to come and a woman with it, eh Tadhg?
Tadhg: ’Twon’t be my fault!
Bull: In the course of time, as the man said: in the course of time.
Bird: And a fine heifer she is, too!
Bull: Good legs and a great bussom, God bless the girl!
Bird: Oh, God bless her again.
Dandy: [Finishing his drink] Long life to her!
Bull: She’s a good milker.
Dandy: For a fact!
Tadhg: A mighty milker!
Bull: With nine acres!
Dandy: Nine!
Bird: Knows her banbh and her pig. Strong, too, and no
t bad-lookin’ when you get used to her.
Bull: She’s all that, God bless her.
Mick: Father Murphy …!
[Enter Sergeant Leahy followed by the priest, Father Murphy]
Bull: [Seemingly unaware of the new arrivals … to Maggie] Mrs Butler, from this out, we’ll give you a lift to Mass every Sunday. ’Tis too long a walk for an old woman.
Bird: [Tips Bull’s chest] There’s a big heart in there: an outsize heart that’s too big for this world but God don’t miss nothin’ an’ ’tis wrote down in Heaven in red letters like blood.
Dandy: Well spoke, Bird! Well spoke! Is the names of his friends there?
Bird: [Sanctimonious, mocking] Wrote down there, my child, is the names of all the faithful.
Bull: That’s a kindly thing to say, Bird. Ah, Father Murphy, if ’tisn’t against rules of the Church, could I get a little drop of something for you, Father? Or are the clergy not allowed to take sup in the pubs?
Fr Murphy: No, thank you, Mr McCabe, but I will take a bottle of orange if the Sergeant here joins me.
[Bird nudges Tadhg]
Sergeant: I’ll have an orange.
Bull: And welcome you are to whatever you like.
[Maimie enters]
Maimie: Good morning, Father.
Fr Murphy: Good morning, Mrs Flanagan.
[Mick gives Maimie the beck and she goes to left of bar, out of the way]
Bird: Not a bad day outside, Father.
Fr Murphy: Nice and fresh but a bit chilly.
Bull: There’s a good share of sun now, considering.
Tadhg: There’s good growth.
Bird: There’s amazing growth for the time of year.
Dandy: I seen buds on every bush on the way in.
Bird: Buds, imagine, so early!
Tadhg: Make a good summer!
Bull: The meadows will be early; early buds, early meadows. How’re you for hay, Dandy?
Dandy: I’ll pull through, Bull. I’ve a share of turnips yet.
Fr Murphy: Better come to the point. This morning, Sergeant Leahy and I are making house to house calls. Our job is not a pleasant one but alas, ’tis a necessary one.
Bull: It sounds like a collection.
Sergeant: It’s a collection all right, but this time we’re collecting information.
Fr Murphy: And I hope you’ll be more liberal with it than you are with your money.
[There is an awkward silence which Mick breaks by placing drinks for the newcomers on the counter. Bull pays]
Fr Murphy: There’s nothing to fear. Anything you tell us will be held in the strictest confidence. This is a job which nobody likes but someone must do it or a murderer will be allowed to go free … I hope you have no objections, Mick, at our barging in like this.
Mick: Oh, good God, no, Father! Not at all! Anything I can do, I’ll do.
Bull: Whatever is in our power to be done, will be done, right, Bird? Right, Tadhg? Whatever is in our power by the grace of God.
Sergeant: Then we’ll begin with you, Mrs Butler. And if the rest of you wouldn’t mind waiting in the back room for a moment or two, we’ll begin right away.
[All look at Bull]
Bull: It can never be said that we stood in the way of the law. Come on, Tadhg! Come on, Bird … Dandy!
Mick: This way, gentlemen, you know where to go.
[The four exit]
Fr Murphy: Now, Mrs Butler. This is neither official nor formal. All we want is a little chat and whatever you have to tell us, will go no further.
Maggie: Yes, Father.
Fr Murphy: You heard the Bishop’s appeal on Sunday last?
Maggie: Yes, Father.
Fr Murphy: Unfortunately, it seems to have fallen on deaf ears. Now the Sergeant here assures me that the slightest bit of information might easily break the case. Now, Mrs Butler, you live near where the body was found … where the murder actually took place. Did you see or hear anything on the night?
[Maggie entwines her fingers but does not reply and the priest exchanges looks with the Sergeant]
Sergeant: Anything at all, Mrs Butler?
Fr Murphy: Did you hear or see anything? It doesn’t matter what. Even a little thing might help the Sergeant.
Maggie: ’Tis me needs the help, God help me.
Sergeant: You met the man didn’t you? On the morning of the day he was killed.
Maggie: He was in here all right, that morning. He was a nice man … a bit strong-willed.
Fr Murphy: Most men are!
Sergeant: Did anything take place on that day? Was anything said?
Maggie: If there was, I have it forgotten by now. I have no memory at all. ’Twas often a Saturday when I drew my pension, even though I’d want the money.
Sergeant: Had the dead man an argument with the Bull McCabe?
Maggie: If he did, I don’t remember it. I hate fighting or noise.
Fr Murphy: Mrs Butler, if you know anything, don’t be afraid to tell us. Nothing will happen to you.
Maggie: I’m a lone widow, living on the side of the road with no one to look after me.
Fr Murphy: We understand perfectly, Mrs Butler, but place yourself in God’s hands and you need have no fear. If you’re afraid of anyone, the Sergeant will caution that person and you can be assured of peace and privacy.
Sergeant: I’ll go to the person and tell him that if he so much as looks at you sideways, it will be as much as his life is worth.
Maggie: Oh, no … no … you mustn’t … you mustn’t … You can’t.
Sergeant: So there is a person … someone you fear. [Gently]Who is it, Mrs Butler? It is your duty to tell us.
Maggie: I’m an old woman, living alone, and I do be worryin’ nights. I have no one with me.
Sergeant: We all have to worry nights, no matter who we are.
Maggie: I don’t live in the barracks with guards in all the rooms. An old woman … a woman drawing her pension that wants to be left alone … I never did harm to no one … I only ask to be left alone.
[She becomes silent, Sergeant and Priest exchange looks]
Fr Murphy: [Kindly] Very well, Mrs Butler. You can go now.
[Maggie rises and goes to exit]
Maggie: God bless you, Father … and pray for me. Pray for me, Father!
Fr Murphy: God bless you, Mrs Butler. I will pray for you.
Sergeant: Good day to you, Mrs Butler.
[Exit Maggie]
Fr Murphy: [To Sergeant] Sorry, Tom! I was certain that, after the sermon and with the informal approach, you might learn something.
Sergeant: It’s not your fault, Father. You 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 c
all 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?
The Field Page 6
