There, thought Luke, that last sentence will be a bitter pill to swallow. Half a million dollars’ worth of military equipment had ‘disappeared’ in Singapore over the past two years, including fifty-nine large shells which had been sawn and passed piece by piece
over the barbed wire …

‘It is suggested that the following preliminary measures may not come amiss to ensure greater cooperation. Some of these have already been put forward by other officers whose advice has been sought. Time presses, and we must cut these courier routes and the smuggling immediately. As it is now, Singapore is proving in some respects a base of supplies for the communists of Malaya …’

‘No,’ he thought, ‘that’s really going to make them livid. I’ll cut it out.’

There was a knock, and the head of detective Pang swivelled round the door, a flash of gleaming teeth and eyes. A handsome young fellow Pang, and so damned clever.

‘Come in, come in!’ cried Luke. ‘Take a pew, Pang, old chap.’ There was always much heartiness in their mutual greetings.

Pang remained standing, prancing a little on his toes, hands in his pockets. Luke knew the stance.

‘I can see you’ve got something for me, Pang.’

Pang laughed. ‘Something good, very good, sir, you’ll like it, you’ll like very much, it’s even better than a good Chinese makan …’ He laughed again, then sat down a little familiarly, knowing his value. ‘You remember this morning?’

‘Of course I do.’ Luke and Pang and Blenkinsop had spent the morning photographing surrendered personnel. There were five, all under twenty-three, come out of the jungle together, decidedly a triumph for the Force and the Psychological Warfare guys. Luke and Blenkinsop made sure that they stood well up, face straight to the camera, not bent on chest or turned sideways in a shift to avoid complete exposure; with their shirts white and clean laundered and their long dark pants, similar to those of the detectives, they looked like an incipient basketball team, grinning widely.

Below this group photograph would be printed the appeal to surrender, and then, in tens of thousands, the resulting sheets would be dropped by aircraft flying over the region of jungle they had come from. Perhaps a few of them would filter through the vault of the jungle and be picked up by their comrades.’ See,’ said the words,’ these are your erstwhile comrades, now fat and happy here. They have food, they have money … come out and you will have food, food and money, and a job, and freedom, only just come, walk out of the jungle where you are starving now … and don’t forget to bring your gun with you.’