No Mask for Murder Page 7

  “I don’t see any likelihood of that,” said Martin.

  “Well, he thinks that if people get the impression that conditions at Tacri are too free and easy, they’ll begin to ask themselves what they are paying for.”

  “You mean they’re buying complete segregation, and they want their money’s worth?”

  “To put it bluntly, yes.”

  “I see. I suppose the charges are that I’m letting some of the patients use the boats for fishing again, and that I allowed young Green to visit the mainland.”

  “They’re the main criticisms.”

  Martin nodded. “Well, let’s take the case of Green to begin with. He’s a young active chap who’s been shut up here for two years. He hates the place. He came to me last Friday morning, looking very anxious, and showed me a letter saying that his brother in Fontego City had had a bad accident. Green asked me if he could go over to the mainland for the day to see him, and I let him go. I can think of no valid objection.”

  “I suppose it does rather undermine the principle of segregation,” suggested Anstruther.

  “If the leprosarium is going to remain on Tacri,” said Martin, “it’ll be impossible to enforce segregation rigidly. It’s inhuman. Think of some of those youths we talked to this morning—vigorous young fellows who feel quite fit and have the ordinary human feelings and interests and urges. You’ve seen for yourself that many of them show virtually no outward sign of the disease, and in the early stages they don’t feel any, either. The way things are, unless some new cure is found, they may be here for twenty years. They can’t be treated as criminals with a life sentence—they’ve got to be given some latitude.”

  “I quite agree with you,” said Anstruther. “But there’s the community to think of as well. What about the danger to others?”

  “From occasional contacts like that of Green, there’s no danger. After all, we let relatives visit them here—why shouldn’t they visit their relatives? Leprosy isn’t a thing like chicken-pox, or a cold in the head that you catch from a sneeze. It’s transmitted only as a result of prolonged and intimate contact. Why, even in the closest relationship of all, marriage, it’s passed on to a healthy partner in only about four per cent of cases. But apart from that, we’ve simply got to be realistic. Take the case of the boats. People are saying, no doubt, that some of the patients will take the opportunity to abscond. Suppose they do? They’ll merely be the same chaps who would have absconded anyway—it’s quite easy. My aim is to take away the feeling of close confinement that so many of the patients have, and then perhaps they won’t want to abscond. There oughtn’t to be any absconders from a well-run leprosarium. There ought to be a waiting list of voluntary patients, eager for treatment. There’s no better safeguard for the community than to make people want to stay here. I think a judicious amount of freedom will help to do that. Look at young Green, for instance. If I’d said no, he’d probably have taken the first opportunity to slip away, and he might have stayed away. As it is, he’s come back, and he’s much more contented. Now he thinks it may be possible to leave the place occasionally he doesn’t particularly want to go. He’ll be an excellent influence.”

  “I see your point,” said Anstruther, impressed.

  “There’s another aspect,” said Martin. “Would you come into the house for a moment? I want to show you something.” He led the way to his study with eager steps and stopped in front of a large wall map of the Colony.

  “This,” he said, “will show you what a lot of nonsense segregation is when it’s carried to extremes—in our conditions, anyway. Here’s a map showing the place of origin of all the leprosy cases that have been traced. All this was done by my predecessors, of course. Each red dot is one case. As you see, there are quite a lot of dots in and around the capital, and scattered about the towns and villages nearby. But look at this vast undotted space.” He swept a hand over the greater part of the map. “The absence of dots doesn’t mean that there aren’t any lepers there. It means we haven’t looked for them. In fact, there are certainly five hundred and possibly a thousand undetected cases in that area—people who are free to go into town, sit in restaurants, ride in buses, and go to bed with anyone they want. Honestly, in those circumstances does it make any sense to forbid the unlucky five hundred on Tacri to leave the island for a single day? Our most important task is to track down the hundreds of undetected cases and make sure they can’t spread the disease. Then it’ll die out. But at present we are hopelessly handicapped because people who’ve got leprosy realise that if the fact becomes known they’ll be sent to Tacri, which they regard as no better than a penal institution. If there were a decent settlement on the mainland they’d soon be coming in of their own free will. Well, that’s ruled out now, but at least we can try to make Tacri as bearable as possible and reduce people’s fear of it. Then perhaps they’ll give us some co-operation.”

  Anstruther looked at Martin with respect. “You’re an enthusiast, Dr. West.”

  “I’m angry,” said Martin. “This Colony has had the opportunity to solve its leprosy problem in a generation, to wipe it out in a decent humane way, and it’s thrown away the chance. I’ve been given a set of blunt tools by stupid selfish people and I know I can’t do much with them. But that doesn’t mean that I won’t do what I can. I’ll have things on Tacri the way I want them, or the Colony will find itself with a repetition of the Stockford case.”

  “That would certainly be a pity. What else do you propose to do?”

  “Win the patients’ confidence, if I’m given the chance. Tell them about the improvements that are coming along. Treat them as individuals with rights. Get them interested in all sorts of occupations. If only I had a few acres of good soil!”

  “One thing is very clear to me,” said Anstruther. “We now have another fighter in the Colony. I do hope that you and Garland will get along.”

  “It certainly won’t be my fault if we don’t,” said Martin. He looked questioningly at Anstruther. “Have we exhausted the charge sheet?”

  “Not quite,” replied the Colonial Secretary with a faint smile. “There’s been a complaint—from a religious body, as a matter of fact—that you are paying insufficient attention to the moral welfare of the patients. I thought I’d better pass it on to you. It’s just as well you should know what you’re up against. The specific accusation is that you’re indifferent to the fact that leper patients with husbands or wives on the mainland are openly cohabiting with other patients on the island.”

  Martin looked grim. “I share with Dr. Carnegie,” he said, “a profound distaste for the interference of ignorant laymen with religious prejudices. It’s outrageous that because a man has the misfortune to contract leprosy he should be regarded as fair game for moral busybodies. The whole thing’s an impertinence. The patients aren’t here to be disciplined—they haven’t done anything wrong. They’re entitled to all the rights of free men and women, provided they don’t endanger the community. If they want to sleep with each other, that’s their affair—they haven’t many other pleasures. Anyway, most of them can never hope to rejoin their husbands or wives on the mainland. In effect, their marriages are already at an end. I’d much sooner have them making homes together here if they want to than sneaking off to Fontego City. After all, they can’t infect each other.”

  “But what about the children?”

  “Children of lepers are always born healthy, and don’t contract the disease if they’re removed straight away. It may seem tough on the children to start life that way but it’s a situation that’s bound to arise and it must be dealt with in a practical manner.”

  Anstruther nodded thoughtfully. “You know, West, I’m appalled to find how little I knew of all this. It’s been a revelation coming here to-day, and I’ve really Susan to thank for it. It was she who wanted to see the place. Well, I think we’ve covered everything. I’ll see Garland, and I’ll have a talk with H. E. as well. Of course, we must be prepared to answer the critics.�
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  “Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” said Martin. “As soon as they come out into the open we’ll give them a broadside.”

  Anstruther gave him a friendly look. “I wish you’d arrived three months ago,” he said, “before this programme was settled. We’ve a lot of excellent fellows, conscientious hardworking chaps, but it’s hard to persuade tiptop men to come to these large backward Colonies. Garland’s one of the few men here of really first-class calibre—no doubt that’s why he’s had such an impact on the place.”

  They walked slowly back to the terrace.

  “Hello,” called Susan from the hammock. “Have you settled all the problems of Tacri?”

  “We’ve had an extremely interesting discussion,” said her father, smiling at her disappointed face. “It’s a pity you weren’t there—you’d have enjoyed it!”

  Chapter Eight

  It was getting on toward noon on the Tuesday before Fiesta, and the employees of the Health Department were preparing to leave the office. Shouts and laughter echoed through the staid corridors. Everyone was in the highest spirits at the approach of the holiday.

  Almost everyone. The noise irritated Ezekiel MacPhearson Dubois, who was sitting nervously in his room waiting to see Dr. Garland. For him this was a day of crisis. He wished that the summons would come, that the matter were already put to the test. He felt dreadfully hot and sticky. If he were kept much longer he would sweat his confidence away.

  Ever since his talk with Johnson Johnson he had been trying to make up his mind what was the best thing to do about Dr. Garland. His emotions had been very mixed. For a long time he had had doubts about Johnson’s story. The man could hardly be considered a reliable witness. Honest enough perhaps, but simple. He could easily have misheard or misunderstood that conversation. After all, was it credible that Dr. Garland—the great Dr. Garland who was so vain about his own reputation and so stern in his judgments of others—would risk everything for a sum of money, however large?

  That had been Dubois’ first reaction. But as the days passed his doubts had weakened. Was it so unlikely? Dubois himself had advocated the Tacri scheme because for a man with his political ambitions it had seemed more profitable to bow to a popular prejudice than to fight against it. But he had always felt that the scheme was unnecessarily ambitious. It was Garland who had driven it through. Dubois had been surprised at the time by the vehemence of his support for such dubious expenditure. A bribe would explain it, and nothing else would.

  It was said that every man had his price. Dubois knew very well that most of his countrymen had a pretty low price. In Fontego you could buy a vote or a verdict or even a life for a pound or two. But a white man? His white chief? That took some believing. In spite of his outward assumption of colour equality. Dubois had inwardly a streak of romanticism about white people. It went against the grain for him to believe it. And yet, he argued, why not, if the price were high enough? Fifty thousand pounds sterling was a tempting bait for anyone. A staggering sum. Garland had always seemed a man of integrity, but who could be sure? He was a man of strong passions, Dubois knew that. The sort, perhaps, to give way to strong temptations. There had been a change in him lately; he had become more irritable, more cynical. At times he had given the impression of being fed up with everything. Still, Dubois didn’t want to believe it.

  Later on, Dubois the man had receded and Dubois the politician advanced. This just showed how hollow white superiority really was. Just a façade. People like Dr. Garland were ready enough to denounce Fontegan corruption when all the time they were no better themselves. What a scandal it would make if it came out—what a wonderful weapon for those who were demanding the departure of the whites! Indignation swelled in Dubois’ breast. He imagined himself, the honest tribune of a fleeced and misruled people, flaying this rotten administration in powerful speeches, being elected to the Legislative Council on the issue, leading the Colony to self-government and freedom.

  The righteous mood, the public-spirited mood, passed. Narrower considerations prevailed. If Garland had done this, and it could be brought home to him, his job would fall vacant. Dubois himself would get it—a key position, carrying prestige and authority and a good salary.

  But how to bring it home? Many times Dubois had envisaged the interview which at last was about to take place; many times he had rehearsed his lines. But always he had felt afraid. He feared Garland. He hated to have those steely blue eyes boring into him; he mentally recoiled when those powerful shoulders moved. He knew, without admitting it, that Garland was twice the man he was. He tried to imagine himself going into Garland’s room and saying bluntly, “You have taken bribes!” and inwardly he trembled. Garland’s anger would be like a tornado; he might become violent. Dubois had seen him very near to violence once or twice when the provocation was nothing more than the crass incompetence of an underling out in the “bush” where everything was primitive. What would he be like when his dignity and vanity were injured?

  Thus Dubois pondered, and waited. He had considered the possibility of some less direct approach—the spread of rumour, a whispering campaign, using his friends on the Legislative Council to help. But he realised that whatever means he adopted, the report would be traced to him. Ultimately, the showdown with Dr. Garland would still be unavoidable. Night after night he had lain awake, going through conversation after conversation with Garland, until finally he had evolved a course of action which he believed would be at once safe and sufficient.

  A knock at his door made him jump. Miss Chang came in, handbag in hand. “I’m off, Dr. Dubois. A pleasant holiday! Oh, Dr. Garland is ready to see you now.”

  “Thank you, Miss Chang,” said Dubois. He got up, a little unsteady, his stomach a pit of emptiness. He was dreadfully frightened. Perhaps after all he would say nothing. He went in. Garland was sitting at his desk.

  “What are you hanging about for, Dubois?” The Secretary’s tone sounded friendly enough. “We’ve cleared everything up, haven’t we?”

  “Yes,” said Dubois. He stood in front of the desk like an erring schoolboy, fingering his striped tie.

  “What is it, then?” asked Garland. “Sit down, man, and for Heaven’s sake stop fidgeting.”

  Dubois sat down. He tried to look Garland in the eye, but his gaze faltered. It was like matching glances with a basilisk. “I wanted to speak to you privately, Dr. Garland, about a rather serious matter that has come to my attention.”

  “All right,” said Garland, “there’s no need to be so pompous about it. You are speaking to me privately. What’s troubling you?”

  “I know you will agree,” said Dubois, taking courage from the sound of his own voice, “that it is of the first importance that all the activities of this department should be carried out in such a way that they are above public criticism.”

  “They never have been,” said Garland ironically.

  “What I mean is,” said Dubois, “that nothing should be done to cause a suspicion in the public mind that anything at all underhand had been done.”

  Garland became suddenly wary. The hand outstretched across the desk stopped its patient tapping. “What exactly are you talking about?”

  “It concerns the leprosarium,” said Dubois in a dry cracked voice, and the blood pounded in his head.

  Garland sat motionless. “What about the leprosarium?”

  “You will agree,” said Dubois, “that the project at Tacri is going to be very costly. I am told——” He was caught in the blue stare as though in a searchlight, and he couldn’t finish. “Are we not perhaps spending too much money?” he ended lamely.

  “For Heaven’s sake!” exclaimed Garland. “Why raise that again? You know the whole thing’s been decided.”

  “I know, Dr. Garland, but I have been thinking about it. It seems to me that perhaps we have been unnecessarily extravagant. On reflection, I am inclined to believe that we might have had the necessary work carried out more cheaply. We could have allowed more
time for tenders. Do you not think that perhaps we were a little hasty? There is a very large profit to be made by the firm of contractors. If we had been less impatient, others might have undertaken the work on a smaller margin—and perhaps to less luxurious specifications.”

  “Well, upon my soul!” ejaculated Garland. “You must need a holiday, Dubois. Why bring this up now? We discussed it all very thoroughly at the time. You helped to draw up the plans and you were strongly in favour of them. I think you were quite right—they’re very good plans. Anyhow, the contract’s signed—we can’t change things now.”

  “I agree that I had a hand in drawing up the scheme,” said Dubois. “I believe now, however, that I allowed myself to be led away by my strong desire that the leprosarium should not be moved from Tacri. I feel that I may have been guilty of a dereliction of duty, and it is on my conscience.”

  “If that’s all that’s on your conscience, Dubois, you’re a lucky man. You’ll feel better after a couple of days off.”

  “I think not, sir. I feel I should have probed more carefully into the scheme before giving my approval.”

  “May I remind you,” said Garland with cold formality, “that the responsibility is mine. With all respect, Dubois, it would have gone through with or without your approval. You can give your conscience into my keeping. The scheme is sound, and I’ll stand up for it anywhere.”

  “I think, Dr. Garland, you would perhaps adopt a different attitude if you knew all that I know. I’m sorry to have to say this, but I’m afraid that your enthusiasm for the scheme—which infected us all—has been made use of by unscrupulous people.”

  Garland suddenly hammered on the desk. “For the last time, Dubois, will you tell me what’s on your mind instead of beating about the bush like this?”

  Dubois took a deep breath. “I understand that the firm of contractors paid a consideration in money in order that it should get this contract.”