Rupe agreed entirely with the theory, but he didn’t dare fuel Kase’s rage. Kasey Davis was a ticking time bomb. Frustrated and angered beyond belief that he was now to be separated from Betty, Kase was prepared to stop at nothing. If Maxwell became the full focus of his fury, Rupe feared the outcome.

‘Take it easy, Kase,’ he warned, ‘going off half-cocked won’t serve our cause. You know I’m right, buddy, so you just calm right down. That’s an order now, you hear me?’

Kasey had stopped his pacing. ‘Yeah, I hear you,’ he said, ‘I hear you loud and clear.’ Rupe’s authority and plain common sense had its usual pacifying effect, but this time only to a certain degree. Anger still burned in young Kasey Davis.

Rupe reported their findings, or rather their lack of findings, to Samuel Robinson, recounting the men’s very words.

‘Nothing concrete to go on I’m afraid, sir,’ he said, ‘although what the guys say seems to confirm our suspicions.’

‘Yes,’ Samuel agreed, ‘no direct link, though, nothing that provides us with proof.’

Again so much was left unsaid. But they were both speaking exactly the same language. And they were both feeling equally thwarted, equally powerless.

‘Leave things with me for now, Corporal,’ Samuel said, ‘I’ll make a couple of enquiries of my own.’

‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’ Rupe was intrigued. Enquiries, he thought. Enquiries about what and of whom? The captain surely wasn’t going to confront Maxwell.

But Samuel was, and did. In an indirect way. Early the following morning, he took the mutilated book with him to the officers’ tent, where he placed it beneath the papers on his desk and sat awaiting the arrival of Chuck Maxwell.

‘Morning, sir.’

Young Percy Owen, punctilious in his duties, was surprised to find Captain Robinson had preceded him. Percy always arrived well before his commanding officers to ensure the work rosters were neatly drawn up and waiting, despite the fact he’d addressed all the necessary detail the previous day.

‘Morning, Private.’ Samuel gave a brief smile and returned to the pretence of work. He wasn’t bothered that Percy would be present during his questioning of Maxwell. Indeed, should there be any particular reaction of note, he rather hoped the boy would be paying attention.

Chuck arrived fifteen minutes later. Offering no more than a perfunctory nod by way of acknowledgement to Samuel, he was about to proceed to Percy’s desk in the corner, but Samuel rose to greet him.

‘Morning, Chuck,’ he said pleasantly enough. ‘Just before you head off, there’s something I’d like to run by you, if you wouldn’t mind.’

Chuck made no reply, but halted and stood waiting with an expression that clearly said, All right, get on with it.

‘You and Sergeant Stowers carried out a patrol of the camp on Friday night, did you not?’

‘You know damn well I did,’ Chuck sneered, ‘I was doing my job while you were partying on with your nigger friends at their fancy club.’