grey-headed man, skinny, with the marks of spectacles on the bridge of
his nose and a double row of decorations on his tunic. Bruce noted that
one of them was the purple and white ribbon of the military cross -
strange loot for the Congo. Jacque dropped the man's heels, drew his
bayonet and stooped over the man. He took one of the ears that lay flat
against the grizzled skull, pulled it forward and freed it with a single
stroke of the knife. The opened flesh was pink with the dark hole of the
eardrum in the centre.
Bruce walked on into the office and his nostrils flared at the abattoir
stench.
'Have a look at this lot, boss.' Ruffy stood by the desk.
'Enough to buy you a ranch in Hyde Park,' grinned Hendry beside him. In
his hand he held a pencil. Threaded on to it like a kebab were a dozen
human ears.
'Yes,' said Bruce as he looked at the pile of industrial and gem
diamonds on the blotter. 'I know about those. Better count them, Ruffy,
then put them back in the bags.'
'You're not going to turn them in?' protested Hendry.
'Jesus, if we share this lot three ways - you, Ruffy and I there's
enough to make us all rich.' 'Or put us against a wall,' said Bruce
grimly. 'What makes you think the gentlemen in Elisabethville don't
know about them?' He turned his attention back to Ruffy. 'Count them and
pack them. You're in charge of them. Don't lose any.' Bruce looked
across the room at the blanket-wrapped bundle that was Andre de
Surrier.
'Have you detailed a burial squad?'
'Yes, boss. Six of the boys are out back digging.'
'Good,' Bruce nodded. 'Hendry, come with me.
We'll go and have a look at the trucks.' Half an hour later Bruce closed
the bonnet of the last vehicle. 'This is the only one that won't run.
The carburettor's smashed. We'll take the tyres off it for spares.' He
wiped his greasy hands on the sides of his trousers.
'Thank God, the tanker is untouched. We've got six hundred gallons
there, more than enough for the return trip.'
'You going to take the
Ford?' asked Hendry.
'Yes, it may come in useful.'
'And it will be more comfortable for you and your little French thing.'
Heavy sarcasm in Hendry's voice.
'That's right,' Bruce answered evenly. 'Can you drive?'
'What you think? You think I'm a bloody fool?'
'Everyone is always trying to get at you, aren't they? You can't trust
anyone, can you?' Bruce asked softly.
'You're so bloody right!' agreed Hendry.
Bruce changed the subject. 'Andre had a message for you before he died.'
'Old doll boy!'
'He threw that grenade. Did you know that?'
'Yeah. I knew it.' 'Don't you want to hear what he said?'
'Once a queer, always a queer, and the only good queer is a dead queer.'
