The Empire Trilogy - J. G. Farrell [661]
The Major explained that he wanted an exit permit for Vera.
‘Does she have a valid certificate of admission? Why doesn’t she apply herself?’
‘She has … and has been refused without explanation.’
‘I’m afraid in that case …’ said Smith, beginning to clean his ear with the paper-clip and inspecting it at intervals.
‘She’ll be in grave danger should the Japanese gain control of Singapore.’
‘Can’t do much about that, I’m afraid. But as a favour we’ll have a little look at her file, shall we? If she’s properly registered we should have her photograph and thumb-print, I should think … Just a moment.’
Smith got to his feet and made his way to a door leading to an inner office. He left the door ajar and the Major could hear whispering but could not make out what was being said. He looked around. Nothing in the office had changed since his first visit except that strips of brown paper had been pasted over the window as a precaution against flying glass-splinters. It was some time before Smith reappeared; when he did so he was wearing spectacles and carrying a file. The atmosphere in the office was stifling despite the fan thrashing away above his desk. He sat down and for a while studied the file suspiciously, occasionally making a clicking sound with his tongue. From time to time he lifted the paper-clip and twisted it in his ear like a key in a lock. At length he looked up and said sharply: ‘What’s your interest in this case, Major?’
‘She’s a friend of mine …’
‘I believe we’ve discussed this woman before, haven’t we? I told you she wasn’t reliable, perhaps even a whore. Surely now you don’t mean to tell me that she’s a friend of yours!’
‘Even if your evil-minded suggestions were true,’ replied the Major coldly, ‘it would be no reason to refuse her an exit permit when her life is in danger if she remains in Singapore.’
Smith had once more dropped his eyes to the file and was champing his lips in a disagreeable manner. How little had changed, the Major reflected, since the first time he had sat in this office! Smith was still blinking and sweating profusely: wisps of hair still flickered on each side of his bald crown like electric sparks, dancing weirdly in the draught of the fan. The Major had been too busy fire-fighting to give much thought to earlier days when his Civil Defence Committee had lobbied the various departments of the Government for distribution of gasmasks and for air-raid shelters in the populous quarters of the city. But now his sense of frustration with petty officials returned in full force, combined with bitterness at the results of their ineptitude which he had witnessed in the last few days driving about in the defenceless, shelterless city.
‘This woman once had connections with the General Labour Union,’ pursued Smith, unaware of the Major’s anger. ‘I suppose you know that that was a Communist organization?’
The Major said nothing. Outside the air-raid sirens yet again began their rise and fall, rise and fall. Smith cocked an ear anxiously to them, then went on: ‘We have information that she was also implicated in some criminal affair in Shanghai before the war in which a Japanese officer was killed. That was also Communist-inspired without doubt. So you see …’
‘I see nothing except that she’ll be on a Japanese black-list if she remains in Singapore!’ shouted the Major, losing his temper.
‘Don’t raise your voice with me, Major,’ said Smith nastily. ‘You’ll find that it doesn’t get you anywhere.’
‘From the way you talk it sounds as if you’re on the side of the Japanese. Let me remind you that they and not the Chinese are the enemy!’
‘Look here, old man,’ said Smith in a condescending tone. ‘I happen to know a great deal more about this business than you do. Of course,