At the scene: "Would you go away and rest yourselves," said the big countryman at the crossroads at Ballybinaby, close to the farm buildings where Thomas "Slab" Murphy is reputed to operate his multi-million pound criminal empire.
There were no criminals in Ballybinaby, said the man. The only criminals were the security types who organised yesterday's raids. "So, go away and rest yourselves," he repeated to us reporters, "and write about the poor people of Africa, not the natives here."
At least he had something to say. Calls to several houses in the area yielded no response from the occupants. Tight people around Ballybinaby, which is what you expect close to the fortress of Slab Murphy, alleged IRA leader.
All day long Garda, PSNI, Irish and British army vehicles came and went; some unmarked cars too with interesting looking people in plainclothes in them making their way to and from Slab Murphy's Border-straddling stronghold.
There are some fine buildings around Ballybinaby and in the more general Hackballscross area of Co Louth that speak of great wealth. Some impressive red and grey brick homes with high gates, walled gardens, damp but lovely lawns, and bright conservatories.
Some of these same houses were being searched by the Garda yesterday with Irish Army backup. The PSNI and British army were involved on the Northern side of the Border, only a few hundred yards away. The Criminal Assets Bureau (Cab) also had a big interest, as did the Customs and Excise people.
Another more modest bungalow in Ballybinaby, with an oil lorry outside, was also being subjected to careful examination by a Garda team. But they were as tight-lipped as the "natives".
Anyway, the building the photographers and RTÉ and the BBC and UTV and Sky and the new radio stations and the press people wanted to see was Slab Murphy's.
"Is the house up here?" we asked the traffic corps garda, who with other colleagues was barring entry leading to the infamous farmhouse and barns that are half in Louth and half in Armagh and, allegedly, totally caught up in smuggling on a mind-boggling scale.
"What house?" said the garda, smiling. No, we couldn't drive up, he added. Any other queries, try the press office, he said as a Garda helicopter flew overhead.
We did a long half-circular loop around the narrow wet country roads, and found ourselves at another crossroads, again only a couple of hundred yards from Slab Murphy's house: but this time in Armagh, this time with PSNI officers denying access.
Again the officers were friendly, but the answer was the same. "Try the press office."
Not that it mattered much because Slab Murphy doesn't do interviews.