“Well, don’t let’s have any of your bizarre but redundant embroideries now, Tsuda. What do you mean by evil?”
“Death,” said Tsuda between his teeth.
It was all very weird, with the dark, and the mysterious background of tropical vegetation. But the sky was gradually growing lighter, and in a little while the moon would be up.
“Who is dead?” demanded Utterbourne sharply.
“It is the wife of the Kami....”
“Mrs. King—!” This was one of those rare occasions when the man of many shrouds found himself betrayed into a really spontaneous exclamation. He added quickly: “When did it happen?”
“About a week ago, Captain.”
“But how?”
“Just fell sick of watching,” replied Tsuda simply, and with the faintest suggestion of reproach in his voice, as though he would like delicately to fix a slice of the responsibility on the shoulders of his inquisitor.