When Mrs Pang, the older wife of our young and most brilliant detective, came strolling by on a courtesy visit bringing pomeloes and cigarettes, her weasel small eyes wary and appraising in her slightly pock-marked face; searching Evangeline’s body up and down, obviously clicking figures in her mind as to how she might sell, a virgin; a strange feeling rose among us. In the rapid darkness one could see the S.E.P.s, Ah Mei and Miss Lee, standing mutely about Evangeline, not leaving her alone with Mrs Pang, their wordless presence hostile, a convergent, tangibly solid wall defending Evangeline. Mrs Pang sensed the swift unpleasant feeling ready to turn upon her, and after drinking half a small orange squash and commenting on the price of rubber (which was going down), she left.

Jimmy Lo returned with a camera man, a wire recorder, two aides and a box of chocolates slightly mouldy with heat. His pretty wife was with him. She sat in a corner, gazing at Evangeline. The Information Department had decided to broadcast Evangeline’s story as good propaganda. There were quite a few child bandits about, but not many as intelligent as this little girl.

They sat on the large pink and white Malay mat on the floor and placed the wire recorder on a stool in front of Evangeline and Jimmy held the microphone and began.

‘Now how long were you in the jungle, little girl?’

Already trained by police interrogation, having answered this question many times, Evangeline replied: ‘Two years and four months.’

‘Now tell us,’ said Jimmy, ‘how you came to the jungle.’

‘I went with my mother,’ said Evangeline.

‘What happened to your father?’ asked Jimmy’s sympathetic voice.

And his silent lips framed the answer for lip-reading Evangeline.

‘My father died,’ said Evangeline, ‘so my mother and I went to the jungle.’

‘Who killed your father?’ asked Jimmy.

‘Bad people,’ replied Evangeline, rolling her eyes at the machine squatting attentive in its maroon shagreen skin, its slow wheels turning,’ very bad people.’

‘Aha,’ said Jimmy happily, ‘communist bandits, wasn’t it, little girl? Say yes,’ he mouthed to Evangeline.

‘Yes,’ said Evangeline.

Jimmy looked pleased. ‘We’re getting on, she’s really quite wonderful,’ he whispered aside, and produced a memorandum sheet out of his pocket, upon which he had jotted the main points of the interview. He now ticked off point 1, ‘Parents’, and continued:

‘Now when you were in the jungle camp with the wicked bandits, did they beat you?’

‘No,’ said Evangeline.

‘Not even once?’

‘No … but once or twice my mother beat me. And the men they shouted at me.’ Warming up she added, ‘Especially when the food was not ready they cursed me, and tried to leave me behind when they moved.’

Point 2, ‘Ill treatment,’ checked Jimmy and continued:

‘Now what did you do in the jungle, little girl?’