‘No.’ I parked the car and switched off the engine. Darkness closed in on us, the trees dripping. ‘You wait here.’
But she was out in a flash. ‘If they’re up to something, I want to know.’
I turned on her, facing her across the roof of the car. ‘Just do what you’re told. Please. Get in the driving seat and wait for me.’ I didn’t stop to see what she did. I just started back down the almost dark road, moving quietly and stopping now and then to listen. I could hear the sound of voices, and then shadows emerged out of the gloom ahead. They were moving in a bunch down the road towards me. I slipped in among the trees and watched as the people from the waiting room hurried past. They were talking amongst themselves, but I couldn’t understand what they said, only that they seemed excited about something, constantly glancing back over their shoulders.
When they were beyond the bend, I stepped back on to the road. My watch showed that it was now after 17.40. They could have been ordered to leave because the offices were closing and their excitement no more than anger at having to return next day. But somehow it hadn’t sounded like that. And when I turned the next bend, and was in sight of the headquarters, there was nobody in the parking lot, the official cars still standing dark and empty and all the lights on in the offices. The truck was parked outside the main entrance. Its lights were off, and I could only just see it. Had I been mistaken? Was this merely some sort of a deputation to the local Commissioner? Beyond the truck a man moved in the shadow of the trees. I wouldn’t have seen him except that the entrance door had been opened and for a moment he was illumined in a shaft of light.
I knew then that I had not been wrong. The light glinted on the short barrel of the machine-pistol cradled on his arm. A voice spoke, and he moved towards the door. It was the driver, Malulu. I retreated softly into the shadows, wondering whether to wait for some confirmation of what I was beginning to fear or drive straight to the police. But all I had seen was a man with a gun. Hardly sufficient to convince them of a hold-up, or perhaps the kidnapping of a senior PNG official.
And then a light suddenly blazed out from a darkened room on my side of the building. There was a shout, the sound of feet on a wooden floor, and the window was flung open, a man starting to climb out. He saw me and hesitated. A door banged. He turned his head, his mouth opening in a scream, but the scream was cut short as the outline of his head and shoulders was jerked away from the window. I heard the soft thud of a blow, a gurgling gasp, followed by a dragging sound, then silence.
The light went out, and I stood there, shocked into immobility. Malulu came round the corner of the building and stood looking over the parked cars. Then he went back to the main entrance. I began to move cautiously through the trees bordering the road. As soon as I reached the bend, I stepped out of concealment and began to run.
I met Perenna coming towards me. ‘I thought I heard a shout. That Chimbu chief — Tagup …’
‘Get back to the car,’ I told her. ‘Quick!’
‘What is it? What’s happened?’ She was running beside me. ‘Tagup said they had been ordered out of the office they were in, all of them, by a gang of armed men.’
We had reached the second bend. The car was still there, and no sign of anybody near it. ‘Get in.’ I flung myself into the driving seat and had the engine on and the car moving before she had shut her door. ‘What else did your Chimbu friend tell you?’ I switched the headlights to high beam. ‘Did he know what they were up to?’
‘No. He didn’t seem to understand what was going on. He was worried about the safety of his people. He’s a redskin, you see …’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Anybody from Papua New Guinea. They’re lighter-skinned, and it seems there’s been trouble between them and the Bougainvilleans.’ We reached the main road, and I turned right, towards the town. ‘Was it really a hold-up? What happened?’
I told her briefly, and by the time I had finished we were at the first house. I parked right against the entrance, jumped out and beat on the door. A woman answered it. ‘May I use your phone, please?’
She looked at me, startled, a small pale face under a fringe of dark hair. ‘Why? Has there been an accident?’
‘Excuse me.’ I pushed past her. ‘Where is it?’
‘The phone?’ She seemed slightly dazed. A record player was blaring in the background. ‘It’s over there, by the kitchen. But you can’t use it. Not now.’
‘Why not?’
‘Something’s gone wrong with it. Sandra — that’s my daughter — she was trying to ring a friend. Then I tried, but it’s out of order, I guess. I’m sorry. Can I help at all? If it’s an accident … ’
‘I’ll try the next house,’ I said, and left her standing there with her mouth agape.
It was a man who answered the door this time. He worked in Community Relations and knew the number of the police. But when he tried to get it for me, he found the phone was dead. ‘Looks like there’s a fault in the line for this part of the town. If it’s urgent, you’d find it quicker to drive there.’ He started to give me directions, but now that I was faced with people in their houses, living their normal lives, I was beginning to realise how difficult it was going to be to convince anyone of what I had seen.
‘I’ll go direct to the hospital,’ I said.
‘It’s an accident, is it?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Anything I can do? If you’ve run down one of the indigenes-’
‘No. It’s something else.’
He stood in the doorway, watching me as I drove off, a puzzled, uncertain look on his face. ‘We’ll go to the hospital,’ I told Perenna. ‘We can get Perry to ring the police from there.’
‘You didn’t get them then?’
‘No. His phone was out, too.’
She was silent for a moment; then she said quietly, ‘Do you think we’ll find all the phones are out?’
The same thought was in my mind, but it was something I didn’t want to think about. ‘We’ll know when we get to the hospital.’ I was wishing now I had told the man what had happened. In Community Relations he might have known if there was any trouble brewing. I glanced at Perenna, sitting tight-lipped beside me. ‘Did your brother give you any hint about what those guns might be used for?’
‘No.’ And she added quickly, ‘He’s not involved. It’s Teopas.’
I didn’t say anything, knowing that Teopas was a man who obeyed orders. He would never have planned a raid on the Provincial Government offices. I should have brought that Community Relations man with me. Phil Brewster. That was the name he had given me. The hospital showed up ahead, and I turned into the entrance.
At the reception desk I asked for Perry. ‘He’s with a patient of yours, Eddie Flint.’
The woman picked up the house phone, spoke to somebody and then said Mr Perry would be right down. I asked her to get me the police then, but she said, ‘I’m sorry. The outside lines are out of order.’
‘Since when?’
‘About quarter of an hour.’ She glanced up at the wall clock. ‘We haven’t been able to contact anybody since before six.’
We waited in silence until Perry appeared. ‘You’ve been a hell of a time.’ He was smiling, relieved that we had finally turned up. ‘What happened? Did you lose your way?’
‘Let’s get out to the car,’ I said. ‘I’ll tell you what happened as we drive to the police station.’ And I hustled him out, Perenna talking quickly all the time, telling him about the two houses we had stopped at to telephone. ‘All the phones are out, even the hospital.’
‘That’s a matter for the telephone engineers, not the police.’
‘Don’t talk, just listen.’ I pushed him into the passenger seat. I don’t know why. It was instinctive, not reasoned. I just didn’t want him to drive; his reactions were too slow. He protested, of course, but by then I was behind the wheel and had the engine going. ‘Just tell me where to go.’ And as I followed his instructions, I gave him a brief account of what I had seen at the Government offices.