'"I won't be a minute," I said. "Deal for me, will you?" I added to Cartwright.
'I went out and found the sergeant with two Malays waiting for me on the steps. I asked him what the devil he wanted. You can imagine my consternation when he told me that the Malays had come to the police-station and said there was a white man lying dead on the path that led through the jungle to Kabulong. I immediately thought of Bronson.
'"Dead?" I cried.
'"Yes, shot. Shot through the head. A white man with red hair."
'Then I knew it was Reggie Bronson, and indeed, one of them naming his estate said he'd recognized him as the man. It was an awful shock. And there was Mrs Bronson in the card-room waiting impatiently for me to sort my cards and make a bid. For a moment I really didn't know what to do. I was frightfully upset. It was dreadful to give her such a terrible and unexpected blow without a word of preparation, but I found myself quite unable to think of any way to soften it. I told the sergeant and the coolies to wait and went back into the club. I tried to pull myself together. As I entered the card-room Mrs Bronson said: "You've been an awful long time." Then she caught sight of my face. "Is anything the matter?" I saw her clench her fists and go white. You'd have thought she had a presentiment of evil.
'"Something dreadful has happened," I said, and my throat was all closed up so that my voice sounded even to myself hoarse and uncanny. "There's been an accident. Your husband's been wounded."
'She gave a long gasp, it was not exactly a scream, it reminded me oddly of a piece of silk torn in two.
'"Wounded?"
'She leapt to her feet and with her eyes starting from her head stared at Cartwright. The effect on him was ghastly, he fell back in his chair and went as white as death.
'"Very, very badly, I'm afraid," I added.
'I knew that I must tell her the truth, and tell it then, but I couldn't bring myself to tell it all at once.
'"Is he," her lips trembled so that she could hardly form the words, "is he-conscious?"
'I looked at her for a moment without answering. I'd have given a thousand pounds not to have to.
'"No, I'm afraid he isn't."
'Mrs Bronson stared at me as though she were trying to see right into my brain.
'"Is he dead?"
'I thought the only thing was to get it out and have done with it.
'"Yes, he was dead when they found him."
'Mrs Bronson collapsed into her chair and burst into tears.
'"Oh, my God," she muttered. "Oh, my God."
'The doctor's wife went to her and put her arms round her. Mrs Bronson with her face in her hands swayed to and fro weeping hysterically. Cartwright, with that livid face, sat quite still, his mouth open, and stared at her. You might have thought he was turned to stone.
'"Oh, my dear, my dear," said the doctor's wife, "you must try and pull yourself together." Then, turning to me, "Get her a glass of water and fetch Harry."
'Harry was her husband and he was playing billiards. I went in and told him what had happened.
'"A glass of water be damned," he said. "What she wants is a good long peg of brandy."
'We took it in to her and forced her to drink it and gradually the violence of her emotion exhausted itself. In a few minutes the doctor's wife was able to take her into the ladies' lavatory to wash her face. I'd made up my mind now what had better be done. I could see that Cartwright wasn't good for much; he was all to pieces. I could understand that it was a fearful shock to him, for after all Bronson was his greatest friend and had done everything in the world for him.
'"You look as though you'd be all the better for a drop of brandy yourself, old man," I said to him.
'He made an effort.
'"It's shaken me, you know," he said. "I . . . I didn't . . ." He stopped as though his mind was wandering; he was still fearfully pale; he took out a packet of cigarettes and struck a match, but his hand was shaking so that he could hardly manage it.
'"Yes, I'll have a brandy."
'"Boy," I shouted, and then to Cartwright: "Now, are you fit to take Mrs Bronson home?"
'"Oh, yes," he answered.
'"That's good. The doctor and I will go along with the coolies and some police to where the body is."
'"Will you bring him back to the bungalow?" asked Cartwright.
'"I think he'd better be taken straight to the mortuary," said the doctor before I could answer. "I shall have to do a P.M."
'When Mrs Bronson, now so much calmer that I was amazed, came back, I told her what I suggested. The doctor's wife, kind woman, offered to go with her and spend the night at the bungalow, but Mrs Bronson wouldn't hear of it. She said she would be perfectly all right, and when the doctor's wife insisted-you know how bent some people are on forcing their kindness on those in trouble-she turned on her almost fiercely.
'"No, no, I must be alone," she said. "I really must. And Theo will be there."
'They got into the trap. Theo took the reins and they drove off. We started after them, the doctor and I, while the sergeant and the coolies followed. I had sent my seis to the police-station with instructions to send two men to the place where the body was lying. We soon passed Mrs Bronson and Cartwright.
'"All right?" I called.
'"Yes," he answered.
'For some time the doctor and I drove without saying a word; we were both of us deeply shocked. I was worried as well. Somehow or other I'd got to find the murderers and I foresaw that it would be no easy matter.
'"Do you suppose it was gang robbery?" said the doctor at last.
'He might have been reading my thoughts.
'"I don't think there's a doubt of it," I answered. "They knew he'd gone into Kabulong to get the wages and lay in wait for him on the way back. Of course he should never have come alone through the jungle when everyone knew he had a packet of money with him."
'"He'd done it for years," said the doctor. "And he's not the only one."
'"I know. The question is, how we're going to get hold of the fellows that did it."
'"You don't think the two coolies who say they found him could have had anything to do with it?"
'"No. They wouldn't have the nerve. I think a pair of Chinks might think out a trick like that, but I don't believe Malays would. They'd be much too frightened. Of course we'll keep an eye on them. We shall soon see if they seem to have any money to fling about."
'"It's awful for Mrs Bronson," said the doctor. "It would have been bad enough at any time, but now she's going to have a baby . . ."
'"I didn't know that," I said, interrupting him.
'"No, for some reason she wanted to keep it dark. She was rather funny about it, I thought."
'I recollected then that little passage between Mrs Bronson and the doctor's wife. I understood why that good woman had been so anxious that Mrs Bronson should not overtire herself.
'"It's strange her having a baby after being married so many years."
'"It happens, you know. But it was a surprise to her. When first she came to see me and I told her what was the matter she fainted, and then she began to cry. I should have thought she'd be as pleased as Punch. She told me that Bronson didn't like children and he'd be awfully bored at the idea, and she made me promise to say nothing about it till she had had a chance of breaking it to him gradually."
'I reflected for a moment.
'"He was the kind of breezy, hearty cove whom you'd expect to be as keen as mustard on having kids."
'"You never can tell. Some people are very selfish and just don't want the bother."
'"Well, how did he take it when she did tell him? Wasn't he rather bucked?"
'"I don't know that she ever told him. Though she couldn't have waited much longer; unless I'm very much mistaken she ought to be confined in about five months."
'"Poor devil," I said. "You know, I've got a notion that he'd have been most awfully pleased to know."
'We drove in silence for the rest of the way and at last came to the point at which the short cut to Kabulong branched off from the road. Here we stopped and in a minute or two my trap, in which were the police-sergeant and the two Malays, came up. We took the head-lamps to light us on our way. I left the doctor's seis to look after the ponies and told him that when the policemen came they were to follow the path till they found us. The two coolies, carrying the lamps, walked ahead, and we followed them. It was a fairly broad track, wide enough for a small cart to pass, and before the road was built it had been the highway between Kabulong and Alor Lipis. It was firm to the foot and good walking. The surface here and there was sandy and in places you could see quite plainly the mark of a bicycle wheel. It was the track Bronson had left on his way to Kabulong.