Death in the Andamans by M. M. Kaye

— to sleep here tonight. I hope we have enough bedding. Of course the whole affair is disgraceful. There was a stupid bungle at the wireless station. We should have had a storm warning this morning, and instead of that it was only received about four-thirty. But luckily ships in this harbour have to keep up a reasonable head of steam: otherwise that cruiser would never have got clear in time. As it was, she cut it rather fine.’
    â€˜Why did she have to go out?’ demanded Copper. ‘I thought ships tried to get in to harbours in a storm?’
    â€˜Not this one. There is not enough deep water. And far too many rocks. Besides, this is only the beginning of the storm. There’s a lot more to come, and if the Sapphire had stayed here she would have been driven on the rocks like the old Enterprise. Her only chance was to make for the open sea and ____ ’ He broke off as voices sounded from the lower hall, and putting down his unfinished drink rose and walked over to the banisters.
    Mr Stock, oozing water like a leaking sponge, was coming up the stairs, rain squelching from his soaked shoes on to the polished treads and leaving little gleaming puddles at his every step. He checked his ascent on seeing the Commissioner, and stood looking upwards from the well of the stairs, one hand clutching the banisters and the light from the hall below him blackly silhouetting his weedy figure.
    â€˜Well, Stock?’ inquired the Commissioner.
    Mr Stock shuffled his feet and cleared his throat nervously. As ever there was about him a faint, servile suggestion of cringing, as in a habitually ill-treated mongrel dog, but in the present instance it appeared more apparent than usual.
    â€˜Well, what is it?’ The Commissioner’s voice was unexpectedly tinged with nervous exasperation: ‘Have they found him?’
    â€˜Yes — er — no. You mean Ferrers Shilto? No. I only came to inquire if you would be so good as to give my wife a bed for the night. You see — er — our roof has gone.’
    â€˜Your what ?’
    Mr Stock let go of the banister, swayed dangerously, and clutched at it again to steady himself: ‘Our roof. The storm — the storm has blown away a large portion of it, and part of the house is quite — er — quite uninhabitable. So I thought that if you would very kindly allow Ruby — my wife — to sleep here tonight … I — she suffers severely from insomnia you know, and she says that her fear of the rest of the roof falling would aggravate it. So I thought…’ His voice trailed away and his teeth chattered with cold and fatigue.
    Valerie said: ‘Why, of course we can! Can’t we, Dad? And of course you must sleep here too, Leonard. You two can share the big spare room and Nick and Dan can double up in the other one, and we’ll make up a bed for Mr Shilto in the turret room.’
    Mr Stock muttered profuse thanks, refused a drink, and stumbled out into the night leaving behind him a snail-like trail of dampness. ‘Poor little man,’ said Copper. ‘He looks simply green. It must be a particularly nasty jar after capsizing in a storm and being in the water for hours, to arrive home and find no roof on your house.’
    â€˜Not to mention a wife in the last stages of hysteria!’ said Valerie. ‘If there is one thing dear Ruby really revels in it’s a spot of drama, and I bet she’ll extract the last ounce of it from the present situation or die in the attempt. Poor Leonard! Come and help me get the rooms ready, Coppy.’

7
    Government House was a large, old, two-storeyed and rather gloomy building, full of bats and curious echoes. At sundown the bats swooped through the tall, dim rooms, and once the lights were lit a host of little semi-transparent lizards would appear out of holes and crannies in the high ceilings, to pursue with shrill chirruping cries the moths and night-flying insects