that I would report the weights myself and would report him too, and I was beside myself with worry about the false weights. How did they get there?
Who was the swine?'
Blakely's little eyes filled with admiration. 'Yes, sir, I remember distinctly.
He asked for a pound of rice and an egg or two. Just like you said.'
'Then remember it, you stupid fool! If you'd used the right weights and held your tongue we wouldn't be in this mess, Don't you fail me again or I'll put the blame on you. It'll be your word against mine.'
'I won't fail, sir, I promise —'
'It's our word against Grey's anyway. So don't worry, you keep your head and remember!'
'I won't forget, sir, I won't.'
'Good.' Jones locked the safe and the front door of the hut and left the area.
Jones is a sharp man, Blakely persuaded himself, he'll get us out of this.
Now that the shock of being discovered had worn off he was feeling safer.
Yes, and Jones'll have to save his own neck to save yours. Yes, Blakely my man, you're smart yourself, smart to make sure you've got the goods on him, just in case of a double-cross.
Colonel Smedly-Taylor scrutinized the weight ponderously.
'Astonishing!' he said. 'I just can't believe it.' He looked up keenly. 'You seriously mean to tell me that Lieutenant Colonel Jones offered to bribe you? With camp provisions?'
'Yes, sir. It was exactly like I told you.'
Smedly-Taylor sat down on his bed in the little bungalow and wiped off the sweat, for it was hot and sultry. 'I don't believe it,' he repeated, shaking his head.
'They were the only ones who had access to the weights —'
'I know that. It's not that I dispute your word, Grey, it's just so, well, incredible.'
Smedly-Taylor was quiet for a long time and Grey waited patiently.
'Grey.' The Colonel still examined the weight and the tiny hole as he continued. 'I'll think what to do about this. The whole affair is fraught with danger. You must not mention this to anyone, anyone, you understand?'
'Yes, sir.'
'My God, if it's as you say, well, those men would be massacred.' Again Smedly-Taylor shook his head. 'That two men - that Lieutenant Colonel Jones could - the camp rations! And every weight is false?'
'Yes, sir.'
'How much do you think they are light, all in all?'
'I don't know, but perhaps a pound in every four hundred pounds. I suppose they were getting away with three or four pounds of rice per day.
Not counting the dried fish or the eggs. Perhaps there are others mixed up in this - there would have to be. They couldn't cook rice and not have it noticed. Probably a cookhouse's mixed up in it too.'
'My God!' Smedly-Taylor got up and began pacing. 'Thank you, Grey, you've done a fine job. I'll see that it goes into your official report.' He put out his hand. 'A good job, Grey.'
Grey shook his hand firmly. 'Thank you, sir. I'm only sorry I didn't discover it before.'
'Now, not a word to anyone. That's an order!'
'I understand.' He saluted and left, his feet hardly touching the ground.
That Smedly-Taylor should say, 'I'll see that it goes into your official report'! Maybe they'd promote him, Grey thought with sudden hope. There had been a few camp promotions and he could certainly use the upped rank. Captain Grey - it had a nice ring to it. Captain Grey!
The afternoon was dragging now. Without work, it was difficult for Peter Marlowe to keep the men on their feet, so he organized foraging parties and kept the guards changing, for Torusumi was sleeping again. The heat was vicious and the air parched and everyone cursed the sun and prayed for night.
Finally Torusumi woke up and relieved himself in the undergrowth and picked up his rifle and began to walk up and down to take the sleep away.
He screamed at some of the men who were dozing, and he shouted to Peter Marlowe, 'I beg thee get these sons of pigs up and about and make them work, or at least make them look as though they are working.'
Peter Marlowe came over. 'I'm sorry that thou art troubled.' Then he turned to the sergeant: 'For Christ sake, you know you were supposed to keep an eye on him. Get these bloody idiots up and dig a hole or chop that bloody tree or cut some palm fronds, you bloody idiot!'
The sergeant was suitably apologetic and in no time he had the men hurrying about, pretending to be busy. They had it down to a fine art.
A few husks of coconut were moved, and a few fronds were piled, and a few first saw cuts made in the trees. If they worked at the same speed, day after day, well, soon the whole area would be clean and level.
The sergeant tiredly reported back to Peter Marlowe. 'They're all as busy as they'll ever be, sir.'
'Good. Won't be long now.'
'Look, sir, would you - would you do something - for me?'
'What?'
'Well, it's like this. Seeing as how - as you - well . . .' He wiped his mouth on his sweatrag, embarrassed. But it was too good an opportunity to miss.
'Look at this.' He brought out a fountain pen. 'Would you see if the Nip'll buy it?'
