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jail wall. He was careful not to be observed, but not too careful, and he
laughed to himself as he felt Grey following. He pretended well, backtracking
through the huts and dodging this way and that. Grey relentlessly dogged his
footsteps, and the King led him up to the jail gate and through the gate and
into the cellblocks. Finally the King headed for the cell on the fourth floor
and pretended to increase his concern as he went into the cell and left the
door half ajar. Every quarter hour or so he'd open the door and peer anxiously
around, and this went on until Tex arrived.
"All clear," Tex said.
"Good."
Peter was back and safe and there was no need to keep up the pretense, so he
returned to his hut and winked at Peter Marlowe. "Where you been?"
"Thought I'd see how you were getting on."
"Like some Java?"
"Thanks."
Grey stood in the doorway. He said nothing, just looked. Peter Marlowe was
wearing only his sarong. No pockets in a sarong. His arm band was on his
shoulder.
Peter Marlowe lifted the cup to his lips and drank the coffee and his eyes
were locked on Grey and then Grey disappeared into the night.
Peter Marlowe got up exhaustedly. "Think I'll turn in now."
"I'm proud of you, Peter."
"You meant what you said, didn't you?"
"Sure."
"Thanks."
That night the King was worrying about a new problem. How in the hell could
he do what he had said he would do?
Chapter 20
Larkin was deeply troubled as he strode up the path towards the Aussie hut.
He was worried about Peter Marlowe  his arm seemed to be troubling him more
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
than somewhat, hurting too much to be brushed off as just a flesh wound. He
was worried too about old Mac. Last night Mac'd been talking and screaming in
his sleep. And he was worried about Betty. Had bad dreams himself last few
nights, all twisted up, Betty and him, with other men in bed with her, and him
watching and her laughing at him.
Larkin entered the hut and went over to Townsend, who was lying in his bunk.
Townsend's eyes were puffed and closed and his face was scratched and his
arms and chest were bruised and scratched. When he opened his mouth to answer,
Larkin saw the bloody gap where teeth should have been.
"Who did it, Townsend?"
"Don't know," Townsend whimpered. "I wuz bushwhacked."
"Why?"
Tears welled and dirtied the bruises. "I'd  I'd a-nothing  nothing. I don't
know."
"We're alone, Townsend. Who did it?"
"I don't know." A sobbing moan burst from Townsend's lips. "Oh Christ, they
hurt me, hurt me."
"Why were you bushwhacked?"
"I  I  " Townsend wanted to shout, "The diamond, I had the diamond," and he
wanted the colonel's help to get the bastards who'd stolen it from him. But he
couldn't tell about the diamond, for then the colonel'd want to know where
he'd got it and then he'd have to say from Gurble. An' then there'd be
questions about Gurble, where hadhe got it from  Gurble? The suicide? Then
maybe they'd say that it wasn't suicide, it were murder, but it weren't, least
he, Townsend, didn't think so, but who knows, maybe someone did Gurble in for
the diamond. But that particular night Gurble was away from his bunk and I'd
felt the outline of the diamond ring in his mattress and slipped it out and
took off into the night and who could prove anythin' and Gurble happened to
suicide that night so there weren't no harm. Except that maybe I murdered
Gurble, murdered him by stealing the stone, maybe that was the final straw for
Gurble, being kicked out of the unit for stealing rations and then having the
diamond stole. Maybe that'd put him off his head, poor bastard, an' made him
jump into the borehole! But stealing rations didn't make sense, not when a
man's a diamond to sell. No sense. No sense at all. Except that maybe I was
the cause of Gurble's death and I curse myself, again and again, for stealing
the diamond. Since I become a thief I got no peace, no peace, no peace. An'
now, now I'm glad, glad that it's gone from me, stolen from me.
"I don't know," Townsend sobbed. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]