Throughout the drive into town, they’d been relatively silent. They’d discussed the facts and figures that had come through, including the identities of those slain, and Hank had made a brief enquiry about the men Samuel had chosen for further investigation.

‘Only two,’ Samuel had replied, ‘and one of them wasn’t even a ringleader. He wants to plead the case for a friend of his who was. He wants to be heard.’

‘How odd,’ Hank had said, although he hadn’t appeared remotely interested. It was not his intention anyone be given the chance to ‘plead a case’, or indeed even to be heard. All he needed was a couple of scapegoats.

‘Yes, odd indeed.’ Samuel had nodded as if in agreement, but he was glad Willie had volunteered to speak out. ‘There were two other major ringleaders,’ he’d added, ‘but they’re both dead.’

Hank had found that piece of information of far greater interest. ‘How convenient,’ he’d said, ‘much easier for all concerned.’

After this short conversation they’d lapsed into silence, each preoccupied with his own thoughts.

Samuel was pondering how he might go about presenting the men’s case to investigators, given all he’d learned from Rupert Barrett, Willie Parker and Amos Cole. He understood the US Army would want no publicity, and he respected the reasons why. But the situation is more complex than it appears, he thought, it’s only right that voices should be heard by those in command.

Hank Henry’s thoughts were running along vastly different lines. This riot, this rebellion, this mutiny, call it what you will, he thought, has to be sorted out as soon as possible and locked away forever to become something that simply never happened.

‘I’ll send off my basic report to HQ and get back to you first thing Monday morning,’ he said briskly as Samuel alighted from the vehicle. ‘In the meantime, it goes without saying, not a word to anyone. Understood?’

‘Understood, of course.’

Hank didn’t bother looking back as the jeep took off and Samuel walked up the steps to the front porch of the Queenslander. She’ll be waiting for him inside, he thought with more than a touch of contempt, that mistress of his. What a goddamned fool. How an officer of Robinson’s experience and professionalism can fall into such a trap is beyond me.

She was waiting for him inside. She’d stepped out into the hall the moment she’d heard his key in the latch.

‘You’re safe,’ she whispered as she saw his silhouette framed in the doorway.