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Colonel Hammond’s housekeeper seemed ill at ease right from the beginning. Prem Singh noticed that she now looked even older than when they first accosted her at the top of the stairs. She sat down on the sofa in front of the two investigators and adjusted her sari.
Malcolm Priestly had also noticed her discomfiture. “We’ll keep this as brief as possible, Ms. Devi,” he assured her as they sat down. “For the sake of complete clarity, I would like to go over the events of that evening again.”
The housekeeper nodded silently.
“How long have you been in the late colonel’s employment?” Priestly started.
“Almost twenty years,” she said with an English accent that pointed to an earlier life abroad. “I knew the colonel from his days in Kenya.”
“The police report said you overheard the colonel and John Harrison. If you don’t mind, could you please go over that again for our benefit?”
Indira Devi shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She adjusted her sari again before speaking. “As I told the inspector, I saw the colonel arguing with John Harrison that night. I had just finished supper and was going down to sleep.”
“Could you see John Harrison?”
“On yes. The colonel’s office door was open. I saw Harrison standing in front of the colonel’s desk. The colonel was sitting behind it. I don’t think Mister Harrison saw me. His back was turned to me.”
“Can you remember the exact words?”
“I think it was......why the hell can’t you tell me? For God’s sake, I’m your partner. Then the colonel got very angry. He said it’s my bloody decision. You just need to accept it. I went downstairs immediately after that. I did not want to snoop.”
“And that’s all you heard?” asked Prem Singh. “Did you see anything else that night?”
Indira Devi paused several seconds before answering again. “I did not see anything else after that. I again heard the colonel shouting, but did not see anyone.”
“You heard it downstairs?” Priestly asked.
“No. I heard it just after midnight. I came upstairs to get some coffee. As I was passing the colonel’s study, I heard him shouting again.”
Prem Singh stopped writing and looked up at his superior. Both men were thinking the same thing. This was not included in Atkins’ original report.
“You could not see into the colonel’s study at that time?” Priestly queried.
“No. The door was closed that time. I assumed John Harrison was still there.”
“What were the colonel’s words that time?”
“Even though the door was closed, I could hear it clearly,” she said. “A mistake. Of course it’s a mistake. I demand fidelity. Complete fidelity.”
Priestly paused to stub out his cigarette on the ash tray before asking the obvious question. “Are you certain,” he asked, “about the exact time this happened?”
“Absolutely,” Indira Devi replied without hesitation. “There’s a clock in my bedroom downstairs and in the kitchen upstairs. It was about ten minutes past midnight.”
“Is there a telephone in the house?”
“Oh yes. It’s in the colonel’s study, behind his desk.”
“So he could be talking to someone on the phone. You did say the office door was closed.”
“It’s possible. In fact......that was my first impression.”
“Why did you think that? You said you could not see inside the room.”
Indira Devi’s reply was interrupted by the entry of Laura Spencer into the room. “I apologise for barging in,” she said. “I just wanted to enquire if you would like to stay for dinner. We had anticipated guests this evening. So it’ll be no bother.”
Prem Singh prepared to say something. But Priestly spoke before he could respond. “That’s indeed an enticing offer,” the Chief Inspector commented. “But we’ll need to get back to the Savoy soon. There’s still work for us to do tonight.”
“Then I hope we can have dinner together another day while you are here. Alistair and I would be most delighted.”
“Certainly,” Priestly affirmed, smiling at Prem Singh. “Dr. Prem Singh here is without the services of his wife. I’m certain he’ll have no objection.”
“None whatsoever,” Prem Singh chimed enthusiastically.
“I’ll let Alistair plan it. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
After Laura Spencer left the room, Malcolm Priestly again turned his attention to Indira Devi.
“As I was saying,” she continued, “I suspected the colonel was on the phone. It’s not the first time I have heard him shout into the telephone. He had a very short temper. So it used to happen at least once a week.”
“Could it have been John Harrison in the room?”
“It’s not possible” Indira Devi said with some authority. “I saw John Harrison leave the house much earlier. I’m certain he did not return that night.”
“How can you be absolutely certain?” asked Prem Singh. “You said you had already gone to sleep.”
“True. But the door bell did not ring that night. My bedroom is next to the living room downstairs. I always open the front door at night. The colonel never comes down after dinner.”
“How about Alistair Hammond?” asked Priestly. “Wasn’t he in the house that night?”
“No. In fact I saw him leave just after John Harrison left that night. I did not see him again until the next day evening......with the terrible news.”
“I assume Alistair has his own key to the house?”
“Yes, but he did not come back that night. I think he stayed with his friends somewhere in Mussoorie.”
“Are you absolutely certain?”
“Positive. He left his keys on the table in the living room downstairs. He usually does that if he’s planning to stay overnight somewhere else. The boy has a habit of losing things.”
“Is there a back door to the house?”
“Yes. But that was also locked. I did it myself.” The housekeeper again paused before speaking. “I still cannot believe....the colonel is not here anymore.”
“Yes, I understand,” Priestly said. “I have just one more question. When did you first hear about the engagement of Alistair Hammond and Laura Spencer?”
This question seemed to slightly surprise Indira Devi. “I heard about it two days after the colonel’s death. The whole thing seems.....so rushed.”
“So it was not announced before December 11th?”
“It might have been announced among Alistair’s friends. But I don’t think the colonel knew about it until he died. Besides.......” Indira Devi’s voice dropped off into a suspenseful silence.
“Yes....?” Priestly prodded gently. “Anything you can add might be useful.”
“I don’t like to speak ill of anyone,” Indira Devi professed, looking at the closed door. “But she seems so ordinary. I just can’t understand why Alistair would choose her over other fine ladies. I don’t think the colonel would have approved of the match.”
“Thank you, Ms. Devi,” Priestly said. “That’s all I wanted to know.”
Immediately, Prem Singh finished writing and looked up at Indira Devi. “If you don’t mind,” he said, “I have one more question. Would you know if the colonel was left handed or right handed?”
Indira Devi answered without hesitation. “Definitely right handed.”
The two investigators thanked Indira Devi and watched her leave the room. Priestly waited until the door closed before speaking. “That was an illuminating conversation,” he opined.
“Was it? We still do not have a suspect other than John Harrison.”
“That’s true. But we do know there was someone else here that night.”
“We do? He could have been just shouting into the phone as she said.”
“That’s a possibility,” Priestly admitted. “But somehow......I’m not convinced. I think they were standing face to face.”
“What makes you think so?” Prem Singh asked, closing his briefcase and pocketing the pen.
“Just think of the colonel’s words. They were meant to have a direct impact. Those are not the kind of words you would use over the phone.”
“So you suspect that person in the room shot the colonel the next day?”
“I cannot be certain. But that’s a possibility we need to entertain. Even if that person was not the shooter, he might have been involved in some way. But we need to get more evidence. We don’t even have a complete working hypothesis.”
Just as Malcolm Priestly and Prem Singh exited the upstairs living room, the night sky outside was pierced by the crazed pattern of a lightning bolt. This was immediately followed by a sharp clap of thunder which rumbled throughout the house.
Priestly assumed correctly that Mussoorie was about to receive another dose of its regular monsoon showers.
As she had intimated earlier, Laura Spencer was in the downstairs living room, reading a copy of Life magazine. She stood up as soon as she heard Malcolm Priestly and Prem Singh coming down the stairs. “I suppose I still cannot persuade both of you to join us for dinner tonight?” she asked. “Alistair will be back shortly.”
“I’m afraid not,” Priestly responded with a frown. “We still have a lot of work to do tonight.”
“I hope you got some useful information.”
“We did. But before we leave, may I ask you a personal question?”
“Certainly.....”
“Alistair mentioned you stay at Landour. Not here in Mussoorie.”
“That’s right. My family’s based there.”
“Would you be related to Lord Edward Spencer?”
Laura Spencer seemed slightly surprised by this question. “Do you know him?” she asked.
“Not personally,” Priestly admitted. “I heard he now lives in Landour. A colleague of mine met him there a few years ago.”
“Ah yes, that’s possible. My father gets quite a few visitors. Maybe you’d like to visit us in Landour soon.”
“Maybe soon,” Priestly said with a smile, extending his right hand. “I’ve heard it’s even more beautiful than Mussoorie.”
“It is. I hope to see both of you there soon. Let me also wish you a very good night.”
As Atkins had promised, the Rolls Royce was waiting in the veranda. The driver briskly saluted the two investigators and ran over to open the car’s rear doors. Both Priestly and Prem Singh also ran to the car. It had already started drizzling. As the car moved out of the front courtyard of the bungalow, Prem Singh turned to look behind through the rear window which was now starting to fog over. He saw Laura Spencer standing on the veranda steps watching them drive away.
“See anything interesting doctor?” Priestly asked, putting a cigarette in his mouth and searching for a match box.
“I just don’t understand it,” Prem Singh replied.
“May I enquire what is it exactly that you do not understand?”
“That housekeeper’s attitude. Laura Spencer is hardly what I would call ordinary.”
“Oh, you don’t concur with the housekeeper?”
“No, I don’t,” Prem Singh said with a degree of finality. “Laura Spencer is a fine lady. I think Alistair Hammond’s a very lucky man.”
“Maybe not so lucky,” Priestly corrected. He took a puff and sat back into the car’s plush seat. “His father will not be attending the wedding.”
“Most unfortunate indeed. He’ll soon be a grieving bridegroom.”
By the time their car reached the Savoy, the drizzle had transformed into a torrent that reduced visibility to just a few metres. The intervals between the blazing lightning sheets and subsequent thunder rolls had decreased considerably. After thanking the driver, Malcolm Priestly and Prem Singh sat down in the foyer for a quick recap.
“Let’s start again tomorrow morning,” Priestly proposed. “It certainly has been an interesting day. Atkins should be here for breakfast.”
Prem Singh concurred with that suggestion. Despite the heavy monsoon rain, the Savoy was teeming with humanity. Priestly could hear raucous laughter and the dance band playing a Roy Fox melody from the hotel’s ballroom. The Savoy’s famous evening party was in full swing. He desperately hoped it would end just after midnight. His body was yet to acclimatise to Mussoorie’s higher altitude and rarefied air. Priestly rubbed his forehead gently as he opened the door to his room. It had started to throb.