West from Singapore by Louis L'Amour

Author:Louis L'Amour
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780553900194
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2008-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

INVOLUNTARILY, HE GLANCED down. His right hand was bloody!

But mingled with the blood sticking to his hand were tiny bits of sand and gravel. The path, that was it! When he crouched he had put his hand down. Whoever had carried the head away had obviously gone that way or else was wounded himself. Then, he thought swiftly, the man he had heard had not been the murderer, unless he had returned on a second trip!

“Don’t be dumb,” he said sharply. “If I killed him, where’s the head?”

The man scowled. “You could have disposed of that. Hans,” he snapped, “keep an eye on the prisoner. Thomsen, you will search the house!” He turned to the prisoner. “I am Karl Albran, the resident official from Susupu. Now what is your name, and where are you from?”

“My name?” the prisoner echoed. “My name is Mayo—Ponga Jim Mayo. I’m skipper of the freighter Semiramis, of Gorontalo.”

“Ponga Jim Mayo!” Albran’s face blanched. Then slowly the expression faded, to be replaced with something like triumph. “So,” he said softly, “Ponga Jim Mayo! I have heard of you, my friend.” Albran turned slightly. “Hans, this fellow has made something of a record for escaping from tight corners. So shoot if he makes even one false move.”

Hans smiled wolfishly. “This is one corner he won’t get out of!” he said. “I hope he tries.”

After Albran turned on his heel and left the room, Jim let his eyes rove around. There was still the problem of the murdered man. To the right of him, and near the window, was a pool of water. Remembering his own movements, he recalled that he had come around the other side of the blood, and none of the three recent arrivals had stood over there. Then, naturally, it had been someone else, who had arrived on the scene and surveyed it carefully and without interruption. Probably the man who had stepped from the path. But who?

A white man, Jim was sure. Bare feet don’t make such a sound on a gravel path. And white men in Halmahera were few and all too easily traced. Albran? He considered that. Yet it was hardly probable. And why had the head been removed?

Albran and Thomsen returned to the room with two other men. One of them Jim recognized instantly as Doc Fife. The roving surgeon was known in all the islands. He glanced at Jim out of shrewd eyes.

“Albran tells me you killed Frazer,” said Fife, smiling a little. “I told him he was crazy.”

Jim shrugged, said nothing.

Albran’s eyes were cold. “I found him here, starting to go through the papers on the desk. The body was still warm, and Jim had blood on his hand. Has it now. And I say he killed Frazer!”

Ponga Jim stared at Albran very thoughtfully. “Want a case pretty bad, don’t you?” he said.

Albran smiled coldly. “This is time of war. I shall not delay the progress of justice, but order you shot—immediately.”

“What?” Fife demanded angrily. “Why, you can’t do that, Albran! Nothing has been proved—”

“Proved?” Albran demanded.

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