Fitzroy led the way, stood aside to let the officers pass, closed the door behind them, and then took his place at the smaller desk to the side of the office to take notes. Arthur did not speak for a moment as he stared at the two Company officers. The colonel he already knew: Sanderson, who had served over two decades in India, and had eight years of service as a regular back in Britain before that. He was heavily built, with a bright red complexion that told of a fondness for spirits. Beside him stood a younger man, of approximately the same age as Arthur, he guessed. Dodd was tall and slender, with cropped blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. Handsome would be the word for him, Arthur mused. It was clear that he had been drinking as well, and that he was one of those men for whom the only effect of alcohol was to render them bitter and cruel.

‘Fitzroy, where did you find them?’

‘At the Company’s officers’ mess, sir.’

‘So I can see.’Arthur interlaced his fingers on the desk in front of him. ‘Now then, gentlemen, it seems you are both at the heart of a miscarriage of justice.’

‘Miscarriage of justice?’ Sanderson feigned surprise. ‘Sir, I don’t know—’

‘Quiet!’Arthur snapped.‘You will be silent, sir, until I give you leave to speak.’

Sanderson opened his mouth with an angry expression, thought better of it and clamped it shut. Dodd just gave a small bitter smile, that quickly vanished like a wisp of smoke.

‘I was visited today by the dewan, in the company of a woman. She claims that Dodd killed her husband, and that when you were asked to investigate the matter you merely suspended the lieutenant’s pay for six months. Is that true?’

Sanderson shrugged. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘In which case was that suspension based upon finding the lieutenant guilty of the charge?’

Sanderson glanced sidelong at his subordinate. Arthur slapped his hand down on the desk. ‘Don’t look at him! Answer me!’

Sanderson’s eyes steadied on the wall behind Arthur’s head and he shuffled to attention.‘I decided on the evidence presented to me that Dodd was guilty of a serious misdemeanour that might bring disrepute to the reputation of the Company, sir.’

‘A serious misdemeanour,’Arthur repeated coldly.‘Is that what a brutal, cold-blooded murder is?’

‘Murder, sir?’ Sanderson shook his head. ‘He simply beat a fellow for failing to provide a service. Hardly an uncommon event, given the laziness and dishonesty of the natives we have to deal with. Of course, it was unfortunate that the man died. An accident was what it was, sir. Nothing more.’

‘An accident is what happens when you barge into someone, or drop a plate on their foot. What an accident is not is a systematic and cold-blooded beating with a mallet. Do you deny that is what happened, Dodd?’