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well down into my subconscious.’
    ‘And what were those other things?’ Shane asked. ‘When I checked you through records at the War Office they told me you’d never been a prisoner. They had you listed as wounded in action and medically discharged. That’s one thing I couldn’t understand.’
    Graham shrugged. ‘It’s very simple really. After the bombing I was pretty dazed but otherwise unhurt. The whole place was a shambles. There didn’t seem to be any other survivors and, to be brutally honest, I didn’t hang around to look for any. I found our uniforms in what was left of Colonel Li’s office. There wasn’t much left of the colonel, by the way. I pulled on the first battledress that came to hand, and got to hell out of there. They were still raking the place with cannon-fire as I went down the hill.’
    ‘And then what?’ Shane asked.
    Graham shrugged and took a cigarette from a slim gold case. ‘I managed to get across the river.’ A faint smile touched his twisted mouth. ‘I was about two hundred yards from the Allied lines when I stepped on a land-mine.’
    ‘What a lousy break,’ Shane said.
    Graham shrugged. ‘Anyway, they did their best for me. Not a very good best as you can see, but there wasn’t a great deal left for them to work on. I couldn’t talk for a year, but finally they brought a German surgeon over and he did some new operation on my vocal chords. Now I can speak after a fashion.’
    Shane couldn’t think of anything to say. He got to his feet and moved across to the window. ‘At least you’re not short of money, judging by this place.’
    Graham nodded. ‘My uncle died the week before that last patrol. Remember when I got the letter from his lawyers? I promised you all one hell of a binge in Tokyo next leave to celebrate. When I got out of hospital I sold out to a combine and bought this house. It was the conservatory that appealed to me. I’ve made quite a hobby out of orchid cultivation. It’s a tricky business, you know.’
    ‘Were you surprised when you heard that Wilby, Crowther, and Steele had survived?’ Shane asked.
    ‘That’s putting it mildly,’ Graham told him. ‘Crowther was the first to come home. Apparently he was in a different camp from the other two.’
    ‘Have you seen anything of any of them?’ Shane said softly.
    Graham shrugged. ‘There was a bit about Crowther in the local paper when he came home. I dropped him a line, and asked him to come and see me for old time’s sake. It wasn’t a very pleasant evening for him, and frankly we didn’t seem to have much to say. He got married a couple of years ago. The last I heard, he was a lecturer at the university.’
    ‘What about Wilby and Reggie Steele?’ Shane said.
    ‘I never bothered to get in touch with them, not after that uncomfortable evening with Crowther. I saw Wilby one Saturday night about a year ago as I was driving through town. He looked drunk, which was completely in character as I remember him. Steele runs some sort of a club in the town. The Garland Club, I think it’s called. Strip shows plus luncheon for tired businessmen. It’s the latest thing. I believe it’s quite a hot-spot during the evening as well.’
    Shane didn’t reply. He stayed by the window, staring out into the rain, and after a short silence Graham said, ‘Are you going to look them up while you’re in town?’
    Shane nodded slowly. ‘Yes, I’m going to look them up.’
    ‘What is this, a sentimental journey?’ Graham said.
    Shane spoke without turning round. ‘I visited Simon Faulkner’s father and sister this afternoon.’
    There was a short, evocative silence, and suddenly the air was charged with electricity. ‘My God!’ Charles Graham said. ‘So that’s what’s brought you back.’
    Shane turned slowly and nodded. ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘I want to know who spilled his guts to Colonel Li. It wasn’t me, and it couldn’t have been you. That leaves Wilby, Crowther, or Steele.