The guard digested this for a moment, then nodded and stepped away, but not before giving Albert a look that described only too well the depth of his complete and utter disapproval of nosy civilians who pulled connections and prevented honest men like himself from keeping them out. Either that, or he was trying not to sneeze.

They stepped through into another section of the tent, with tables and empty chairs along the sides. Other partitions marked the sides of the tent, presumably leading off into other sections. Again, he heard the vaguely familiar voice shouting instructions and turned and saw Ucho. The commander stood in one of the side sections, his silhouette clearly visible through the folds of cloth, waving his hands animatedly at the two men standing in front of him. Even though he could only see their outlines, Albert could tell they weren’t happy.

‘Damn fools! Go right back and search again, with a comb if you have to, and bring me everything you find! And I don’t want to see your miserable faces till you—’

The rest of what he said was lost as Albert’s minder ushered him forward, through the next partition. They went through into another section, then another and another. And then a few more. Just when Albert was beginning to think that they’d walk straight out of the tent on the other side, the man stopped in front of one more of the cloth partitions identical to the ones that had preceded it, and nodded.

‘You’re to go in.’

‘Thank you,’ said Albert, and walked through.

The inside was just like the others he had passed through, the difference being that two of the chairs in this section were occupied. Father and June sat at opposite ends of the tent, their faces solemn.

‘There he is!’ said June.

Father looked up at him. ‘Ah, Albert. We’ve been looking all over for you.’

He heard footsteps and saw Colby step through the cloth partition, his face set as well. Albert looked round at them. ‘What’s going on? What’s happened?’

Father looked at him, his face grim. ‘Castor has been murdered.’

17

Albert felt the air suddenly become very thick, as if a malevolent force had just entered, physically weighing down the atmosphere. His heart began to pound. Castor, murdered? It couldn’t be! He’d just been thinking about him a few minutes ago! Not that that was proof against assassination, but it just seemed so unreal. He looked at Father.

‘What happened? How?’

‘That is what we are trying to find out. Did—’

He broke off as Ucho walked briskly in, scowling, still barking orders at someone they couldn’t see, who was evidently standing on the other side of the partition. He spotted Albert and virtually raced over, his face dark as thunder. ‘Where have you been?’

‘I—I went—’

‘You know what’s happened here?’

‘Yes. I just heard.’

‘Sit down.’