Dead in the Dog by Bernard Knight

well advanced. Blackwell stole a look sideways at his driver, a smooth-faced, amiable Malay and suspected that he was not too bothered about who ruled in Kuala Lumpur. He had regular pay, his family was housed in two rooms in the police compound, he had a nice uniform and he could drive around all day – the acme of ambition for many Malays being a job as a
syce
, a chauffeur.
    Steven sighed, maybe all the Europeans should just bugger off home and leave the natives to get on with it – what business was it of ours, anyway? Another disastrous war had not long finished in Korea, but there was little sign of Chin Peng giving up here, though he was slowly being forced back by measures introduced by the stern genius of General Sir Gerald Templer, who had recently returned to Britain to become Chief of the Imperial General Staff.
    Blackwell threw off his attack of introspection as they were coming through the cutting on the last lap before Gunong Besar. These moods must be from living alone since Margaret went home, he thought irritably. As they came in sight of the knoll on the right, his driver pulled over to let a Ferret armoured car pass them in the opposite direction, one of the frequent patrols that the Army had promised. With a wave to the driver just visible behind his protective flap, his driver turned up the slope and climbed to the flat area in front of the larger bungalow. As he climbed out, he could see Diane come to the rail of the verandah above, attracted by the sound of their vehicle.
    He touched the peak of his cap in greeting. ‘Hello there! Is James about?’
    The blonde waved a glass and Steven realized that he had rarely seen her without a drink in her hand.
    â€˜He’s around somewhere. Come up and have a stinger.’
    Though he rarely took a drink in the daytime, it was approaching lunchtime, so he climbed the steps and accepted a small gin and tonic, which Siva brought, along with another larger one for the ‘Mem’. She was looking as desirable as usual in a slim green linen dress and the police officer had no difficulty in appreciating why she caused so much man-trouble in the area.
    â€˜Siva will go out and look for his lordship,’ she said with scarcely veiled sarcasm. ‘He’s probably down in the sheds with Douglas, doing whatever they do with that stuff.’
    Her dismissive description covered what Steve knew to be a complex process that needed large open sheds for coagulating the raw latex with formic acid, then rolling it into sheets before drying in the smoke sheds, ready for export. However snooty she might be about it, it kept her if not in actual luxury, at least in new dresses, shoes and gin.
    â€˜Did you see the new patrol go by just now?’ he said encouragingly. ‘They’re using an armoured car now, as well as the usual Land Rovers.’
    â€˜Great! I wish they’d park one right outside. What happens in the hours between patrols? We could be shot dead five minutes after they’ve passed!’
    The superintendent sipped at his gin, which was still stronger than he wanted at this time of day. ‘I don’t think you need worry too much, Diane. I’ve just come from a meeting in Brigade with Army Intelligence and the SIB. We’ve come to the conclusion that it wasn’t any organized CT gang. The best money is on it being someone with a grudge against the estate. That’s why I’ve come to have a word with James.’
    â€˜There’s quite a few people with a grudge against my dear husband, some not very far from here. In fact, I’m one of them, but I didn’t shoot the swine, much as I might like to sometimes.’
    Blackwell couldn’t think of a suitable response to this, but thankfully he was spared the task, as the crunch of tyres outside heralded James’s arrival in the mud-encrusted Series One Land Rover that he used around the estate.
    â€˜Staying for lunch, old chap?’ he