“Has he told you so? Has he given you any hint to that effect?”
“Not exactly, Resident. But you must remember Mr. Meidema has a large family to provide for; and it is whispered in Santjoemeh that he finds some difficulty in making both ends meet. Indeed it would not surprise me to hear that he is in debt. So, you see, a little windfall of that kind would come in very handy.”
“But,” said van Gulpendam “he has no right to any such thing—the law forbids it.”
“You are quite right, Resident, nothing ever escapes your eagle eye; but yet—‘il y a des accommodements avec le ciel,’ and therefore—”
“But how?” asked van Gulpendam testily.
“Look you, Resident, that I can’t tell you—I don’t know; but I fancy some loophole could be found. In this particular case, for instance, baboe Dalima is the real discoverer. Now supposing she, in order to save her Ardjan, should hand over her share or part of it—and remember she can have not the slightest idea of its value—to a third party?”
For a moment or two the Resident reflected, then with a smile he turned to his secretary and said:
“Well—even if that were so—that does not explain to me why I should distrust Mr. Meidema. As far as I can see, any hope of sharing in the profits of the confiscated tjandoe would make him as pliable as spun yarn.”
“It is very possible, Resident, your judgment is seldom at fault; but you must not lose sight of the 23rd clause of the opium-law. For myself, I would not mind swearing that Mr. Meidema is shaping his course with his eye on that particular clause. In the case which he, as head of the local police, has drawn up, you will notice that though he states the opium to have been found not far from the prisoner Ardjan, yet he takes care to add that the Javanese came ashore in a small surf-boat which could not possibly have conveyed so large a quantity, and which, moreover, was dashed to pieces by the waves; whereas the packages discovered show no trace whatever of having been in contact with water.”
“Is that mentioned in his report?”