‘I mean, Mr Taylor,’ Lyndon said, his tone measured, he wasn’t about to be played for a fool by the likes of Baz Taylor, ‘the particular soldier with whom you did business.’

‘Oh, I see, yes, of course.’ Baz smiled again, a light appearing to have suddenly dawned. ‘A few of the corporals it was, can’t remember their names. They collected the money from the boys and I delivered the grog, simple as that.’

‘No, it wouldn’t have been as simple as that at all. You would have made a deal with one man in particular, and I want that man’s name.’

They were eyeballing each other now. Johnson demanding, Baz meeting his gaze defiantly.

You don’t scare me, Mr Big-shot-from-Texas, Baz was thinking. I’m not part of your bloody army, mate. You don’t own me.

Baz had no intention of backing down. Not through any sense of loyalty to Strut Stowers, but simply because Stowers was too valuable a contact to lose. The two of them had done a lot of business together and Baz planned they should continue to do so.

‘Don’t have any particular name, I’m afraid, Commander …’ He sounded vaguely apologetic, but his eyes were clearly saying, You can go and get fucked. ‘Just the corporals, like I said, and I never knew their names.’

Johnson held his look for a moment, then glanced at Val.

‘Tell the commander what he wants to know, Baz,’ Val said.

Baz turned to her. He knew an order when he heard it, and one look at Val told him this was most definitely an order. ‘Sure, boss.’ He grinned winningly. There was no way he was going to risk his relationship with Val. Val Callahan was worth a hundred Stowers, a thousand even. When he turned back to Johnson, the same grin remained in place, as if he were saying, Happy to oblige.

‘A bloke by the name of Stowers,’ he said, ‘Sergeant Strut Stowers of Company C.’ Pity to lose a contact like that, Baz thought, but what the hell, there are other fish in the sea, and I don’t really give a shit anyway.

‘Thank you, Mr Taylor,’ Lyndon said, but he was looking at Val. Good, he thought, here was the name he was after. He’d call Stowers into the stockade for questioning first thing tomorrow morning.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN