‘No, it’s all right!’ Alan said as he saw Sturgess swoop down and pick up an object, examine it, then clip it on to his belt. ‘One of the men had a hand grenade secreted under his armpit.’

There were other angry outbursts as the police found several more people in the lines without papers. One or two were taken back to their huts in the kampong to enable them to pick up identity cards left in their houses. Those unable to give a good explanation of themselves and their lack of papers were now handcuffed and circled with guards.

John Sturgess came striding towards them. Blanche noticed Liz kept tight hold of Alan’s hand as John, nodding from one women to the other, said, ‘Like mother, like daughter, neither of you do as you are told nor as expected!’ His tone was sharp and military, but then he grinned, and both women let out relieved breaths. Liz glimpsed again the man behind the military mask. If only Robbo could let him show more often!

He tapped the back of the lorry. ‘We’ll start the show with Mrs Guisan and her daughter.’

The soldiers helped the two women out from their nest of blankets in the bottom of the lorry. There was time only for the briefest of greetings. Blanche had to disguise the shock she felt when she saw the stooped old Chinese. She would never have recognised this woman as the pert young thing who had captivated the heart of their outgoing, expansive manager, Carl.

Sturgess ushered them along the lines of people who had so far shown themselves to be genuine workers and families. Curiosity showed in all their faces but not guilt; it was obvious that the two women meant nothing to them.

It was a different matter as they approached the heavily guarded group. Most of them hung their heads so low it was impossible to see their features. Li Min, without seeming noticeably to move, managed to fade behind a bulky man.

‘Heads up!’ the police sergeant ordered and when this was not obeyed he detailed two constables, who went in and pulled the men’s heads upwards and backwards by their hair, pushing a rifle barrel under their chins. Some still kept their eyes closed, while others stared insolently into the eyes of the women who had worked for them so many years in their main jungle headquarters.

Blanche went nearer, intending to stand behind Li Min where she had edged to the back of the circle. She also saw Chemor staring intensely at the girl, his black eyes reminding Blanche of those of a stoat she had watched hypnotise a full-grown rabbit before launching itself for the kill.

Lee stepped into the circle while her mother remained more remote, more intimated some yards outside. As each head was lifted, Lee not only spat ‘Yes!’ into their faces but named the terrorists. At last they came to Li Min.

Blanche held her breath as Lee looked at her long and hard. It looked like the meeting of arch-enemies. ‘Oh! Yes!’ Lee said at last as if savouring the moment. ‘She came many times, she brought information about army and police raids. Fancied herself as partner to Heng Hou!’

Li Min seemed caught mid-reprisal as she leaned forwards to vent her spite on Lee, but Chemor shouted in the same split second, ‘Heng Hou, he told all about Li Min — he give away!’

The Chinese girl looked like a venomous black spider as she sprang round on Chemor and launched a tirade of abuse in her own language. One or two of her companions, in spite of their own peril, gave verbal approval of the sentiments she expressed and became more arrogant in their manner.

Blanche hated to see any initiative taken by the prisoners, futile though it might be, but she had reckoned without the deviousness and planning of a devoted employee and friend, for at that moment four soldiers went to the back of a police vehicle and hauled out another prisoner, whom they marched up to the group of suspects.

‘See your leader, Li Min! He spoke out about you! He told!’ Chemor pointed and danced about as if in ecstasy. Blanche watched in some amazement. He had seemed such a level-headed chap — devoted to George, but she had not expected this.

Heng Hou was pushed forwards until he stood before Li Min. At a nod from Sturgess he was pushed the final yard so the girl had to jump back to avoid contact with him. It seemed the final act that broke her control. With her hands tied behind her back, her avoidance had a writhing, sensual quality, as if she was squirming away from a sexual advance instead of from a man securely bound.

‘Heng Hou! You said you never be caught,’ she accused. Chemor still capered like a mad monkey. ‘He caught! He talk!’

Blanche glanced at John, expecting him to have George’s old tracker removed, but he seemed to pay no regard.

‘And I talk! I talk now!’ Li Min came forward, facing Heng Hou again but at a safe distance as he growled and shouted at her. Her voice rose higher and he was silenced by the nudge of a rifle butt.

‘He liar! He say he make me woman leader of communist republic, like wife of Mao Tse-tung. I say all right. Beat me and we trap “thorn in communists’ sides” George Harfield. He beat!’ She nodded and Blanche felt a pang of sympathy for the girl as she saw the horror of the experience reflected in her eyes.

‘He beat! He rape too!’ Her voice rose to a scream full of tears. ‘He rape like animal.’ The pitch of her voice fell almost to a whisper as she added, ‘Worse than animal. I hate ... ’

Blanche closed her eyes momentarily, letting a prayer of thankfulness swamp her mind. George! She urged the message across the green jungles to Pudu Gaol. George, you’re free!

On opening them again she saw Sturgess patting Chemor on the back. My God! she thought. It was all a put-up job between the two. Play-acting!

George had always said Robbo was his best friend.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Blanche did not dare presume to take either Lee’s or Ch’ing’s arm or hand as they stood by Josef’s grave. She had told of the encounter and the shooting and led the two of them outside. She felt poised on the knife edge of their judgement.

Ch’ing stood and looked for a long time, then she made a small gesture towards Neville’s grave. ‘He did not deserve,’ she said quietly.

Blanche was not sure whether she meant Neville had not deserved his fate, or that Josef had not deserved her retribution. She relived the moments of their encounter and wondered yet again whether she had murdered Josef, or whether if she had not shot it would have been her grave alongside Neville’s.

She started as Ch’ing linked an arm through hers and the two women went to sit on the seat overlooking the two graves.

‘Better he died at Rinsey,’ Lee said, ‘We had happy times.’ The girl’s eyes softened while her head shook at the memory of the boy and the double-dealing terrorist he had become.

Liz came with Anna, as always practical, bringing iced tea. ‘A bad boy,’ Anna commented, looking down at the new grave, ‘but in no more trouble now.’

‘No,’ his mother said, ‘is blessing.’

‘Oh, Ch’ing, I’m so sorry.’ Blanche grieved for the truth of the mother’s remark.

‘It’s strange,’ Liz murmured, ‘but already I seem to see him better as the boy he was.’

Lee came to her and linked arms. ‘We’ll bring flowers and gifts,’ she said, and her mother nodded.

‘We have lost so much.’ Ch’ing included Blanche in the remark. ‘Husbands ... ’

‘Much time,’ Blanche contributed, holding and patting the old lady’s hand, though bringing herself up with a start as she remembered Ch’ing could only be her own age.

‘Many years for us in the jungle,’ Ch’ing added. ‘Now we have to find work and place to live.’

‘You’ll stay here,’ Blanche reassured her, ‘for as long as ever you wish to.’

‘If there is workman’s house I would like,’ Ch’ing said. As Blanche looked as if she would protest, she added, ‘It’s what I want.’