‘It was the pretty nigger, your favourite, Robinson, the one you told me to go soft on, remember? Kasey Davis? You recall that name, I take it?’ Maxwell was gloating, as if he’d been proved right about something. ‘That nigger was out to get me, I tell you, had me right in his sights. There’s others who’ll swear to it.’ He looked about the mess tent, and several men nodded. No-one could refute him. ‘If I hadn’t dived into the slit trench out back I’d be dead meat by now,’ he went on. ‘That’s one bad-ass nigger and always was,’ he said triumphantly. ‘I swear to you, Robinson, that boy’s rotten to the core.’

‘That boy’s dead,’ Samuel replied flatly.

Chuck would have crowed on longer, but was momentarily halted by the news. ‘Oh, is that so,’ he remarked as if disappointed. ‘Well, too good for him, I say. He should have faced a firing squad.’

Samuel wanted to say, ‘He did,’ but out of deference to Hank Henry remained silent.

Upon the major’s orders, Samuel was to join the NCOs in the general mess tent and assist with the interrogations.

‘According to your own NCOs, the ringleaders were from Company C,’ Hank said. ‘And I’m told furthermore by one of your corporals that you’re the only white officer they’re likely to open up to.’ Hank’s tone held a measure of respect.

Samuel nodded. Yes, he thought, that would have been Rupert Barrett. He and Corporal Barrett certainly had a lot to talk about, principally the underlying reason for the men’s rebellion. There seemed more to the mutiny than mere drunkenness. Could Kasey Davis’s targeting of Chuck Maxwell have had anything to do with the death of young Anthony Hill? Could Private Davis have been seeking revenge? So many questions ran through Samuel’s mind.

‘There’ll have to be an official investigation, of course,’ Hank went on, ‘and I’ll have to write a report for HQ. But we want to keep the number of those brought into the barracks for further questioning to an absolute minimum. Just a few ringleaders we can throw the book at while keeping this whole business strictly under wraps.’

Hank Henry’s further instructions were that they were both to remain at Kelso until the following afternoon, by which time Samuel would have selected the few men deemed responsible for the mutiny. Hank and his driver would then personally return Samuel to his city billet, where his jeep was still parked outside.

‘You’ll need to remain in the city over the next week or so,’ he said. ‘I’ll want you present during the official investigation.’

The next day, which was a Sunday, in the late afternoon, the major dropped Samuel off at Amelia Sanderson’s house in Mitchell Street.