She nodded, frowning. “Oh, I know. He is, that’s quite true. But a lot of other people have had the same strain, haven’t they? Commander Geisler, for instance — worse, because he’s in charge and Daddy isn’t.” She bit her lip. “He’s changed so much, it’s almost as if — as if some one’s got some sort of power over him…”
He looked at her sharply, enquiringly. “What d’you mean, Anne?”
“I don’t know,” she said in a small, miserable voice. “I just don’t know.” She hesitated, and then the words all came in a rush. “I–I shouldn’t tell you this — but it’s that arm of his… it wasn’t just a car accident. That’s why I’m so worried, and Mummy too. We just don’t know what’s going on.” She looked at him appealingly and with more than a hint of tears in her eyes. “I know you’re something to do with the work at the station and… and I was wondering if you couldn’t… couldn’t speak to some one…” Her voice trailed away.
He asked, “But what about, Anne?”
“I–I don’t know really.” She shrugged helplessly. “It was just an idea. I thought perhaps if Daddy had some leave it might help. I thought you could put in a word to London when you go back, but I suppose you can’t really. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He looked at her critically and prompted, “You’d better tell me what’s on your mind, if it’ll help at all.”
“All right, I will.” She fiddled with her handkerchief for a moment and hesitated, as if she was even now unsure whether or not she ought to say any more. Then she seemed to take a grip and come to a definite decision, and without more ado she said ii* a kind of rush, “I’m worried because of last night. It’s his arm. He… had a bullet in it when he came home this morning. I told you I know a bit about guns. I’ve been brought up to handle them and I’m interested. Well, the bullet came from a British .303 rifle, the old Lee Enfield. It’s still used by the Nogolia Rifles and so far as I know by no one else out here. And, you see, there was your train…"
She’d broken down for a minute or two after that, and Shaw, extremely worried and shocked himself now, had done his best to comfort her and coax some more of the story out of her. He found that Hartog hadn’t confided in Anne, but the girl knew all about it because her mother, who had been an Army nursing sister during the War, had removed the bullet herself. Hartog, apparently, wouldn’t have the doctor from the base; and he had said nothing to his wife as to how the bullet came to be there — he had, Anne said, only bitten her head off when she’d asked. Anne had said nothing to her mother about the bullet being from a Lee Enfield rifle.
Shaw’s mind raced over the frightening implications of what Anne had said; she had moved away from him after a while, and there was a peculiar expression on her face, as though she herself had only just realized the full and terrible import of what she had said, had only just ticked over properly. Then, above the drumming sound of the rain on the roof, Shaw heard the hum of a helicopter’s engines.
Anne said, “Here it is now.”
Shaw went across to her. He said, “Listen, Anne. Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
“No.”
“You’re quite sure?”
She said dully, “Yes. There’s nothing else. But thank you for listening.”
He reached out and took her hands in his own and he said gravely, “Stop worrying if you can. Leave that to me. There may be some good explanation of all this. But there’s something I’ve got to ask you before I go.”
She looked up at him, her face working.
He said, “This is going to be hard, but I want you to trust me. I don’t want you to say one word to anybody at all about what you’ve told me. That’s important. Do you understand? Leave things just as they are, and I’ll do everything I can to help. I think you do understand what I’m trying to say — don’t you?”
She nodded, her eyes full of tears, then she twisted away from him and ran across to the door. A few moments later Julian Hartog came in.
The whisky seemed to have pulled Hartog together, Shaw thought. Once he and the scientist were in the helicopter and flying out for the Bluebolt station, the man expanded and became almost talkative. He was, it seemed, most concerned about the hold-up of the express from Jinda and wanted to know all about it.
His tongue firmly in his cheek, Shaw told him.
Hartog said scathingly, “God, those bloody blacks.” Every breath filled the cabin with the reek of spirits. “Must have been after the army stuff, as you say. I believe there were arms and ammunition as well as ordinary stores. May have been some of the native labour force from the Kamumba copper-mine.”
“Is that near where the attack took place?”
“Yes — well, I mean, pretty near, from what you tell me.” He hesitated, then went on, “I don’t know if you’ve heard about this god the niggers are getting so worked up about— Edo, they call him.” He added quickly, “But of course you have. That’s what you’re here about”
“Yes, quite. I don’t know much about him, though. Can you fill me in — d’you think there’s much in it?”
“The blacks certainly think so, so whether or not there is in fact it makes no difference. The result’s going to be the same. And some one who’s got it in for U.K.’s relations with Nogolia is obviously going to make damn sure Edo turns up on schedule. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?” Again he hesitated. “I heard last night that he’s turned up already, and that the fun’s going to start pretty soon. You know anything about that?”
Shaw’s heart had given a lurch. “No. How certain are you of this, Hartog?”
“Well, of course… it’s only hearsay, tom-tom news, bush-telegraph… you know what I mean. These nigs have a way of being dead right, though, and some of them are still sufficiently friendly towards us to give us the tip-off.” He looked at Shaw rather oddly. “I was wondering if you’d heard anything, that’s all.”
“I haven’t You don’t know where Edo’s turned up?”
There was a slight pause. “No, I don’t. The blacks were pretty vague as to that.”
“Did it occur to you to report this direct to Jinda or Commander Geisler as soon as you’d heard it?”
Hartog chuckled coarsely. “Yes, of course it did. The trouble was, I was in no fit state… no one would have believed me. I was going to tell Geisler this morning, but now you can do it. I expect he’ll believe you. Anyhow, apart from the base staff, you can’t absolutely trust anyone out here these days, and I thought it better to wait till I could get hold of Steve in person.”
‘“You’re quite positive this wasn’t a — a figment of—”
“Drink? Oh, no.” Hartog shook his head. “Believe me, it wasn’t that. At least — I don’t think so.” He gave a throaty laugh and looked with sly amusement at Shaw. “Never can tell, though, can you?”
Shaw’s lips tightened. He said, “That doesn’t help very much, Hartog.” They were almost at the control-station now; he would have a word with Geisler first, he decided — and then he’d have a talk in private with Julian Hartog. Somehow the way Hartog had spoken seemed genuine — and yet, if he had been at that train hold-up last night, as the story of the bullet appeared to pre-suppose (on Anne’s evidence anyway), then there could be something in what Latymer had hinted about Edo striking at the Bluebolt station direct… and — which Latymer hadn’t thought of — with inside assistance.