“Laskar Bali,” Victoria finished. “That’s right. You get nothing done here without their involvement. They’re like the mafia. You can rub up against them and lose, or you can go with the flow and accept them for what they are. I’ve always found them to be helpful, especially when they’ve been well paid.”

“They’ll get her out?”

“No,” Victoria said. “That would be more than they would be prepared to do. That’s on us. But they’ll run interference.”

Milton nodded. That was better than nothing. “Did they tell you what we’d find inside?”

“There’s not much to it. It’s a provincial station. Three holding cells in the building at the back, a main office, and that’s about it.”

“How many policemen?”

“Three, maybe four. There’s not enough room for more than that.”

Milton made to open the truck door. “I’d better have a look around, then.”

Victoria put a hand on his shoulder. “Hold up. I’ll come, too.”

“No. Stay here. I’ll be quicker on my own. And there’s no point us both smelling like wet dogs. I’ll call you when I’ve checked it out.”

Milton gave her a wink and stepped out into the rain, closing the door behind him.

37

Milton stepped out of the truck and into the rain. Although the sidewalk—if the narrow muddy strip deserved the name—was on the opposite side of the road, he wanted to keep his back to any passing traffic to avoid his white face lighting up in any oncoming headlights. The next two shacks he approached were both shops of some sort, but closed and shuttered against the storm. Milton couldn’t tell, and didn’t care, what type of wares they sold; his attention was fixed on the building on the other side of the road. A yellow sign with black lettering was illuminated with a small bulb. Polisi. The arrow on the sign pointed through a set of traditional Balinese gates to a squat white single-storey building with a red-tiled roof. Rain hammered off the tiles and poured down onto the ground, almost hiding the small windows at the front of the police station. Milton couldn’t see through the windows, but he didn’t need to. He wasn’t planning on going in through the front.