The Iron Tiger

‘An old mountain hawk, proud as Lucifer. Quite a warrior in his day. To his people, something very special. Not only king, but priest, and that makes for quite a distinction. You’ll like Kerim, his son. A great pity about his accident. I hope your people in Chicago can fix him up all right.’

‘He’s eight, isn’t he?’

‘Nine in three months.’

‘My instructions told me to get in touch with a Father Kerrigan when I arrive. Apparently he’s in charge of all the arrangements.’

‘You’ll like him,’ Drummond said. ‘He’s about sixty. A marvellous old Irishman who just won’t give in. He’s been twelve years in Sikkim and hasn’t made a single convert and the people adore him. It’s fantastic.’

‘If he hasn’t got a congregation, what does he do with himself?’

‘As it happens, he’s a qualified doctor. Runs a small mission hospital about a mile outside of Sadar, completely on his own. There’s one other European up there, a man called Brackenhurst. A geologist for some British firm or other. They’ve also made him British Consul, but don’t let that impress you. It doesn’t mean a thing.’

‘You don’t like him, I take it?’

‘Not much.’

He stopped to light another cheroot and she said casually, ‘Why did you leave the Navy, Jack?’

He paused, the match flaring in his fingers, his eyes dark shadows. ‘You really want to know?’

She didn’t answer and he shrugged, flicking the match into the night. ‘They kicked me out, or advised me to leave, which comes to the same thing for a career officer.’

She could sense the pain in his voice and put a hand on his arm instinctively. ‘What happened?’

‘I was a Fleet Air Arm pilot during the Korean War. One bright morning in July, 1952, I took my squadron to the wrong target. When we left, it was a smoking ruin. We did a good job. We managed to kill twenty-three American marines and ten Royal Marine Commandos who had been serving with them.’

There was bewilderment in her voice. ‘But how could such a thing happen?’

‘The briefing officer gave me the wrong information.’

‘So it wasn’t your fault?’

‘Depends how you look at it. If I’d checked my orders more carefully, I’d have spotted the mistake. I was too tired, that was the trouble. Overtired. Too many missions, not enough sleep. I should have grounded myself weeks before, but I didn’t.’

‘So they couldn’t court-martial you?’

‘A quiet chat with someone with gold rings all the way up to his elbow, that’s all it took. I got the message.’

‘I’m sorry, Jack. Sorrier than I can say.’

Her voice was warm and full of sympathy. They had reached a flight of stone steps leading up from the shore and he paused and looked at her.

Her mouth opened to cry a warning and he ducked, turning to meet the rush of feet from the darkness.

A fist grazed his cheek, he lost his balance and rolled over and over, hands protecting his genitals as feet swung in viciously.

He sprang up and backed to the wall. There were three of them, dark, shadowy figures in tattered robes, scum from the market place hired for a few rupees. Above them on the steps below the lamp, stood the man from the cafe, supported by two of his friends, blood on his face.

A knife gleamed dully and Janet ran in past the three men to join Drummond against the wall. ‘Kill him!’ the bearded man cried. ‘Kill the swine!’

Drummond was tired. It had been a long evening. His hand disappeared inside his coat reaching to the leather holster on his left hip and reappeared holding a Smith & Wesson .38 Magnum revolver with a three-inch barrel.

He fired into the air and there was a sudden stillness. ‘Go on, get out of it!’ he shouted angrily and fired a shot towards the man on the steps that ricocheted into the night.

The men from the market place were already running away along the shore, cursing volubly, and the governor’s son and his two friends staggered into the darkness.

Drummond slipped the revolver back into its holster and looked down at her calmly. ‘You know, I really think it’s time we went back to the hotel, don’t you?’

She started to tremble uncontrollably and he reached out, pulling her into his arms. ‘It’s all right. Everything’s all right now.’

He stroked her hair gently with one hand and his lips brushed her forehead. In the heavy stillness of the night, she could almost hear her heart beating. When he tilted her chin and kissed her gently on the mouth, it was like nothing she had ever known before.