He went on past flower stalls and furniture menders and rice-sellers and stopped at last at a stall selling knives and daggers. Leon was not fond of guns, but he was seldom without his own kris and had, over the thirty-seven years of his life, let his worship of the shining blade develop into something almost mystical. He had never cut a man’s flesh, but something in him was enthralled by the idea of doing so. The cleanness of the act, skin and flesh parting obediently in one magnificent downward thrust of his hand, letting flow a great fountain of blood, made him tremble with excitement. And here, at the modest stall, his practised eye fell upon one dagger which he longed to possess. He lifted it up, admiring its handle jewelled with lapis lazuli, and liking the weight of it – the kind of weight which had been perfectly judged for what a man’s arm could be comfortable with, at the same time revealing to him the extreme damage the blade could inflict.

Though the dagger was expensive and might mean that he would not be able to pay more than one boy for the sexual release he now badly needed, Leon felt that he had to buy it. When he told the stall holder that he would take it for a price not much less than the one being asked, the man looked at him and said, ‘You are wise in your purchase, Sir. This dagger has great power. But you must talk to it.’

‘Talk to the dagger?’

‘You must tell it the names of those you wish to harm and then it will do your work.’

Leon stared at the beautiful blue of the lapis. He knew only one man whose eyes were of this other-worldly colour.

To put his plan for getting rid of the Australian miners into action, Leon knew he would have to spend a night – or more than one – in Kuching.

After finding a stall selling dumplings and filling his belly with these, and drinking two cups of tuak, he made his way to one of the dilapidated houses where his ‘boys’ led a twilight life in rooms piled high with stained mats and where incense burned night and day to keep insects away and to mask the smell of stale semen, which was an aphrodisiac to some men and to others a terrible killer of desire.

Leon had a favourite boy here, a young Chinese by the name of Chang. Chang’s skin was very soft, like the skin of a woman. He barely spoke, but just offered himself straight away, kneeling with thighs apart, in just the position Leon liked. Leon undressed quickly. The purchase of the dagger and the terrible thought of how he might one day use it had put him into a painful state of arousal and the rapid mounting of Chang was sweeter and more potent than it had ever been. When it was over he surprised himself by taking Chang into his arms and kissing him.