8

“Doesn’t he look much healthier?” Milton asked Berdie.

“Actually, he’s still very delicate. He’s not regained consciousness as yet.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Elliott, I don’t mean the commander. I mean Sparks.”

“Milty.” Martha’s tone was irritation let loose.

“Still. Doesn’t Sparks look better than the last time you saw him, Mrs. Elliott? He’s eating some, you know.”

“Oh, Sparks. Of course that’s who you mean. Yes, much improved. You and Martha have done wonderfully.”

Berdie stood, flanked by Milton and Martha Butz, behind the protective glass that guarded Commander Cedric Royce’s intensive-care room.

A policeman, Cedric’s assigned protector, sat in a chair near the door. He glanced occasionally at Berdie and crew.

The early-morning sun filtered through the half-opened blinds of the single window that brightened the cubicle.

Mr. Hayling, the civil servant from the Department of Agriculture and Rural Affairs, was responsible to liaise with the hospital for animal therapy. He stood inside the room’s entry, Sparks next him on a lead. The small man with a kindly smile gently led the barely mobile Sparks to Cedric’s bedside. Despite his splinted leg, bandaged midsection, and stitched head, Sparks was certainly more alert than when Berdie last saw him at the vet’s.

Hugh and Rollie stood at the end of the bed, watchfully scrutinizing Sparks.

“How’s it going?” Loren, in his hospital garb, came behind Berdie and peered over her shoulder.

“Just starting,” Berdie answered. “On duty, are you?”

“Indeed. But I had to come to cheer the process on.”

“Mr. Hayling told us how Sparks came to belong to the commander,” Milton quipped.

“How’s that?” Berdie was all ears.

“To start, Sparks’s smeller”—Milton touched his nose—“got ripped.”

Martha sighed. “Damage occurred to his nasal area where smell receptors are located,” she interrupted, keeping scrupulous watch of her canine patient.

“Yeah, well, anyway, the military couldn’t have a wounded soldier go back in action, so they were going to put him down.”

“Usual course of action for military service animals, I’m afraid.” Loren moved to the other side of Martha.

“Well, the commander got wind of it. Commander Royce thought it would be nice to have Sparks honorably retire with him.”

“Should do,” Martha added.

“After an appeal, the commander got him. So, you see, he actually rescued Sparks from death.”

“Now things are coming full circle,” Berdie breathed. “Let’s see if Sparks can rescue the commander.”

“Bear in mind, this is only the first visit. I shouldn’t expect too much this first go,” Loren warned.

“True.” Martha spoke the word unconvincingly. She was utterly absorbed in watching the scene before her.

Mr. Hayling released Sparks from his lead.

The huge Labrador went to bed’s edge and sniffed the air. Then he thrust his nuzzle upward and lightly pushed it against the commander’s elbow.

“He knows it’s the commander. Look.” Milton pressed his forehead against the glass.

“The question is: does Commander Royce recognize Sparks?” Loren half whispered.

The Labrador made another attempt to nuzzle his master’s arm. Even through the glass, Berdie could hear Sparks emit a whine.

There was no response from Cedric.

Sparks’s tail gave a tender wag as he patiently stood at the bed. Then as if aware of his master’s state, he simply lay down next to it.

Mr. Hayling stroked Sparks. All eyes now rested upon the silent creature that seemed determined to stay at his post.

“Did you see that?” Martha asked excitedly.

“See what?” Berdie scrutinized Cedric’s room, and the guard arose and snapped to the window.

“The commander’s little finger. It moved.”

“No, I didn’t see it. Even so”—Loren placed his hand on Martha’s shoulder—“sometimes, Martha, comatose patients have involuntary movements.”

“No,” Martha snipped, “he knows Sparks is there. And he wants to pet him.”

Loren caught Berdie’s glance and smiled, and the policeman went back to his chair.

“I didn’t see his finger move,” Milton countered.

“You were looking at Sparks. I was watching the commander.”

Just as she said it, Cedric’s little finger made the slightest of movements.

“See, you see.” Martha pointed.

Berdie raised her brows as she viewed Loren. He shook his head in the negative.

“Sparks is going to make him better. I just know it. We’ve been praying, and animals are instinctive when it comes to this sort of thing.”

Mr. Hayling, and Hugh with him, exited Cedric’s room to join Berdie.

“Sparks is having an impact, isn’t he, Mr. Hayling?” Martha’s tone was so optimistic.

“Early days, Martha.”

“How long will Sparks stay here?” Milton asked.

“The greater part of the morning, perhaps into afternoon.”

“Really?” An element of excitement filled Milton’s voice. “No Composition class today. How sad.”

“Oh, you needn’t stay. I’ll bring Sparks home. No, you mustn’t miss all your classes. Reverend Elliott here is giving you both a lift.”

“I promised your mother that I’d take you straight to school from here,” Hugh added.

Milton looked disappointed.

“You will keep us informed,” Martha stated more than asked.

“Of course,” Mr. Hayling answered. “Fully informed.”

“Don’t forget you’re also taking me to meet Lillie at the train station as well,” Berdie reminded Hugh.

“Oh yes,” he said.

“A foray into the London area and a lecture.” Loren turned to Berdie. “Hmm, now why do I have the sense that there’s more to your little jaunt than just listening to someone rabbit on?”

“There is more,” Berdie affirmed. “Lunch.”

“You ladies must go to The Red Star. It’s in Slough, a delicious Indian, operated by a friend of Mr. Raheem,” Hugh interjected. “I went there for lunch following a church workshop in the area. The chicken tikka masala was excellent.”

“A friend of Mr. Raheem.” Berdie wondered if Hugh could see the tingle of excitement in her eyes. This played straight into her plans. “Sounds a treat.”

“Look,” Martha nearly gasped. “He lifted his index finger. The commander lifted his finger.”

Everyone had been so involved in conversation, except Martha, who kept an eagle eye on him, that none noticed anything in Cedric’s room. Now everyone was eying the patient.

Berdie stared at Cedric’s hand, but saw no movement.

“Perhaps Rollie saw something,” Hugh reasoned.

But when Berdie turned her gaze to Rollie, he was seated in a chair, head in a book, intrigued by a good plot by the look of it. “Or perhaps not.”

“I’ll apprise you of any changes,” Mr. Hayling offered Martha. “I think you need to be on your way.”

“We do.” Hugh pulled car keys from his pocket.

Martha nodded. She spread her hands out on the glass and leaned slightly forward. “Good boy, Sparks,” she said softly. “You’re a tonic for him. I know you are.”

****

Berdie tapped her fingers against her trousered legs and looked past the crowd in which she and Lillie stood to shoot a glance down the empty railway track. “And to think Hugh rushed me here from the hospital.”

Lillie yawned.

“Late night?”

“A later-than-usual dinner out with Loren.”

“That’s not the only thing that appears to be late.”

“The destination board said it’s supposed to be on time,” Lillie announced.

“And certain undergarments are supposed to never ride up, but we all know how that goes.”

Lillie laughed. “You are a wag, Berdie.”

In a flash, Lillie’s joviality faded. “Look who’s here.” She glanced past Berdie’s shoulder.

When Berdie turned, she saw Constable Goodnight, somewhat authoritative in his just-a-bit-too-small uniform, amongst the train-station crowd. And he was coming their way.

“Off to London then?” The constable raised his bushy brows. “You have permission, I presume.”

“Certainly,” Berdie retorted. “And what brings you this way?”

“Dropped a chappy off, headed to the Smoke as well,” he whispered a bit smugly. “One of those working on the case.”

“And how’s the case coming along?” Berdie questioned with no care to secrecy.

Goodnight glanced about. He brought his index finger to his lips and presented a walls-have-ears frown.

“Just as well, we’ve a train to catch,” Lillie pronounced and began a forward motion.

“If you can see your way clear to keep your voice down, I may have heard something.”

“Oh yes?” Berdie whispered. “Your prime suspect, perhaps?”

“As a matter of fact, it’s Raheem’s nephew.”

Lillie froze in place.

“Sundeep?” Berdie’s whisper reversed volume.

“Will you keep your voice down,” Goodnight all but shouted. He again glanced round. “The call your husband received Saturday was placed from the lad’s mobile phone. He’s our man.” Goodnight lifted his chin with certain swagger.

Berdie shook her head. “Sundeep stood in our hall, holding my grocery order, at the very moment Hugh spoke to the caller.”

The constable narrowed his eyes. “It’s never just one with these insurgent types, is it? No, there’s bound to be several others in on it.”

“Is there evidence that it’s more than one? Is Sundeep involved in some questionable alliances?”

Goodnight pursed his lips. “He’s traveled outside the country.” He pointed his index finger toward Berdie. “He’s been questioned before.”

“Surely not for murder?” Lillie’s eyes went round.

Goodnight waved his hand toward Lillie as if to dismiss her question. “Does it matter what for? A bad apple is a bad apple.” He rested his hand on his truncheon. “Find him, we find the mastermind.”

“And I find that terribly hard to believe,” Berdie blurted.

Goodnight stood stick-straight and pulled on the hem of his uniform jacket as if to straighten the entire situation out. “We’ll see about that,” he grumped. “Waste my breath and all. Good day, ladies.” He briskly moved along with a certain agitation etched on his visage.

“Sometimes, Lillie, I marvel how that man manages to keep his position in the law.”

Lillie bit the inside of her bottom lip. “Perhaps, in this case, we should pay more attention to him.”

“What?”

The rumble of the train’s arrival signaled a crowded rush forward, Berdie and Lillie in the crush.

Berdie found side-by-side seats. She and Lillie snatched them quickly as people crowded about.

“Why should we pay Goodnight any mind?” Berdie asked.

Both Berdie’s and Lillie’s bodies lurched with the forward movement of the train.

“It’s what Mrs. Raheem told me.” Lillie’s tone was serious.

“Does she think Sundeep is a criminal?”

Lillie shook her head.

“Then what is it?”

“I know this all started as a missing-person search on behalf of the Raheems, but I think it’s more.” Lillie pulled a small notepad from her bag and opened it. “I jotted the information down after speaking with Sharday. First, her sister, Sundeep’s mother, brought great disgrace on the traditional Indian family when she married a gentleman from Pakistan.”

“Oh, that could create some friction all right.”

“Right. However, when Sundeep was young, just a toddler if I recall correctly, his father died in some kind of military strike near the Pakistani border with Afghanistan. Now, Sharday didn’t say it was coalition forces that carried out the deed, but it stands to reason, doesn’t it?”

“Lillie, are you suggesting that Sundeep, motivated by revenge for the death of his father, went after the commander?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

Berdie’s body jerked slightly sideways as the train tugged and etched its way along the urban track.

“Lillie, we know nothing of hard facts surrounding his father’s death. Sundeep was, by your own admission, a toddler, which means he had little or no recollection of events. And until the full story is known, it’s purely speculation.”

“Well, don’t be too sure about that. There’s more.” Lillie eyed her notebook and sniffed. “I suppose you’ll disregard this as well.”

“I’m not disregarding, Lillie. I’m just being reasonable. I’m listening—go on.”

“After some time, Sundeep’s mother came to England, bringing him and his big sister with her. His mother met an English citizen of Indian descent, a fine man, by Mrs. Raheem’s account, and they married. But Sundeep and the fellow had difficulties adjusting to one another. An uncle, Sharday’s brother, tried to act as mediator, but to little avail. It’s not been the happiest of relationships.”

“Not entirely unusual, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t you s’pose he longed for his natural father, even became angry about it?” Lillie paused.

Berdie didn’t respond.

“And then there was some kind of run-in with the law. It was shortly after that Sundeep was sent to live with the Raheems.”

“When you say ‘run-in,’ what does that mean?”

“Sharday didn’t know what it was all about, except something illegal was suspected.”

“But the authorities let him go, right? Had she noticed any odd or unusual behavior on Sundeep’s part?”

Lillie shook her head.

“And his friends? How did he fare at school?”

“Mrs. Raheem didn’t know much about friends. Well, she mentioned his best friend, Amol. He and Sundeep have known each other since childhood. Lives in the London area. And this uncle who tried to help Sundeep with his stepfather, Uncle Chander, he was close to the lad. Sundeep’s mother and stepfather have heard no word, but both mentioned Amol. Apart from that, she knew little about his acquaintances. He completed his schooling successfully and was on a local sponsored football team.”

“I see.” Berdie paused. “So, that’s it then?”

“Isn’t it enough?”

“There’s nothing there to suggest he’s an architect of destruction. He’s no more than a young man who perhaps needs a bit of growing up.”

The train began to gain speed.

“Berdie, you’ve always said everyone’s got a dark side. Yet you’re not giving any consideration to Sundeep as a possible suspect.”

“It’s so unlikely. In the contact I had with him—it was limited, I admit—he impressed me as a good lad.”

“Impressed. You see? How well do you really know him?”

Berdie felt a nibble of doubt in her brain. Something felt out of sorts.

Lillie verbally placed her hands on hips. “Berdie, are you too close to the situation?”

There it was. It hit Berdie like a harpoon, and her stomach tightened.

“Am I too close, or too far?”

“What?”

Berdie took a deep breath. “Since the blast, it’s been nibbling away at me. Is my investigative nose growing dull?” Berdie felt a sense of disorientation as the words tumbled. “I trust Chief Inspector Jasper Kent. Yet I still try to put the puzzle pieces in place. But when I do, I can’t see clearly. It’s almost as if the pieces are there, but they’re colorless, shapeless, evasive. I’ve never had it before, this…loss.”

Lillie looked Berdie straight in the eye. “And we know that’s not at all like you, Berdie.”

There was a dark edge on Berdie’s thinking, and she could barely let the words escape. “Am I losing my ability to reason things out well, to connect the dots, to see past deceit?”

“Heavens, no.” Lillie placed her hand on Berdie’s arm and gave a squeeze. “Four days ago, you experienced a monstrous shock in your own back garden. And you’ve had demands on your time without a proper opportunity for some breathing space. You just need to stand back a bit, catch your breath, reenergize. You have a grand gift, Berdie. It’s just taken a wobble.”

Berdie appreciated Lillie’s reassurance, but there was some kind of stirring, agitation, really, within her. What was going on? Lord, You may be the only one who knows the answer to that question. “A wobble,” Berdie repeated and sighed.

“Now listen, Berdie, you’re going to be right as rain. All I’m asking is that you open your thinking to the possibility that Sundeep could be less than ‘a nice lad.’ That’s all. Fair enough?”

Berdie sighed. “OK, Lillie. As long as you’ll be open to the fact he may not be guilty at all.”

“That will do.” Lillie put her notepad away and yawned. “Now we must move on to the next great question.”

“Which is?”

“Where’s the buffet car? I’m parched.”

****

Berdie stared out the taxi’s window, watching the crowded streets of Slough with its rushing pedestrians and harried drivers.

She was surprised to have found Angela’s lecture, with the exception of a couple small issues, actually flat as a plank. No fiery statements, no pushing of her personal agenda, no controversial stands on issues.

“Uncharacteristically quiet lecture, Angela,” Berdie told the woman when leaving the church after.

“And you would know.” The forty-something single mother of two grown children threw her head back with a chuckle, sending her raven hair into a swirl. “But I’m not losing my verbal punch, you know,” she said in a low voice. She threw a glance toward the stoic Reverend Rishi, who spoke quietly with some congregants. “I’m afraid I’m still his curate. And as such, I’ve had to turn down the rhetoric a notch,” she confessed. “Still, I was hoping that if you came, we’d have a blazing good row after.”

“Not this time, Angela. It seems we’re both on best behavior,” Berdie countered. “Must push on.”

Now, sitting in the taxi on the way to lunch, it wasn’t just Angela’s lecture that was flat. She began to question if she may have overstepped her bounds by giving the Raheems hope that she could locate Sundeep in such a place.

Lillie, who worked to stay awake for Angela’s lecture, now dozed, seated next Berdie.

“You know, Lillie, if Sundeep is tied to the investigation, Chief Inspector Kent will find him. They’ve got everything at their disposal.”

“Hum?” Lillie was barely audible, eyes closed, head leaning to the side.

“Not that it would be a pleasant thing if he did find him, but innocence could win out. At least I hope it would.”

“A-hum.” Lillie trailed off.

“But how can I disappoint the Raheems?” She sighed. “It’s your fault I’m in this, you know.”

“There you are, ladies,” the cabdriver announced. “The Red Star Restaurant.”

Berdie gave Lillie a nudge.

Lillie roused. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“I looked for him but couldn’t find him,” Berdie prodded.

Lillie perked and fluttered her eyelids. “Sundeep?”

“No, a handsome prince, to come kiss you awake.”

“Very hard to come by these days, I should think,” Lillie quipped as she stretched her arms.

“Hang about, it’s closed.” The cabdriver nodded toward the restaurant.

Lillie sat up straight.

Berdie eyed the shaded windows and closed sign. “Bang goes our connection to Sundeep,” she moaned. “Why would Mr. Raheem’s friend close shop in the middle of the week?”

“There.” The driver pointed to a small sign. “Closed for renovations.”

“Bang goes lunch,” Lillie spurted.

“We need to pull a divine rabbit from a cosmic hat to find Sundeep now. We should just go back to Aidan Kirkwood.”

“Well, I’m famished. I’m not going anywhere until I’ve had a good Indian.”

“If I can be of help,” the cabby interjected, “I know a place with excellent Indian food and reasonable prices. Jewel of the Eastern Wind, not far from here.”

“Good chicken tikka masala?” Berdie queried.

“Blazing good.” The fellow chuckled.

“Then, dear sir, lead us on,” Lillie commanded.

The Jewel of the Eastern Wind was chock-a-block with people. Still, they didn’t wait long amongst the red-and-gold décor to be seated. Once at the table, Berdie began to scan the menu.

“Lillie, did you hear anything I said in the cab?”

Lillie ran a finger down the menu. “I think I’ll get a vindaloo.”

“Enjoy lunch. We’re going home when we’re done,” Berdie pronounced. “I’ll explain to Mr. and Mrs. Raheem I should never have agreed to try to find Sundeep.”

“Berdie.” Lillie lifted her chin. “You’re in a hair-shirt mood, aren’t you?” She leaned forward over her menu. “It’s that conversation we had this morning, isn’t it? You think you’re past it.”

“Not past it,” Berdie snapped quite sharply. “I never said I was past it.”

“There’s the spirit.” Lillie smiled.

A waiter pushed by their table. “It’s not enough we’re packed in here”—he lifted his voice to another server—“but some fool’s double-parked out in front. There’s a jam.” He glanced toward the kitchen door, where a young man had just entered the dining room. “Amol, where have you been? Take care of your table.” He nodded toward Berdie and Lillie.

“Amol?” Lillie stared at Berdie. “That’s the name of Sundeep’s best friend. Do you suppose?”

“Lillie, this is Slough. How many Amols do you imagine there are?”

A young man Sundeep’s age hurried to the table, pad and pencil at the ready. “Welcome to Jewel of the Eastern Wind,” he said, a bit breathless. “My name is Amol, and I’ll be serving you. What can I get you to drink?”

“Yes, Amol, hello,” Lillie greeted. “Permit me to ask you a question, if you will. Are you a friend of Mr. Hardeep Raheem’s nephew, Sundeep?”

The lad started. His widened eyes shifted and went into a squint. “No. Who wants to know?”

Berdie caught her breath. He didn’t have long ears or a cotton tail, but she knew a divine rabbit when it stood before her very eyes.

“No, never heard of him.” The fellow turned his gaze to the pad. “What to drink then?”

“Tell me, where I can find him? His aunt and uncle are beside themselves with worry.” Berdie was firm.

“Who are you?” A horn outside blasted, and Amol’s eyes darted to the large window at the front of the restaurant that faced the road. His cheeks took on a flush and he discharged a tiny gasp.

Berdie looked the direction in which he gazed. Now she gasped. The white van double-parked in the road outside read Raheem’s Greengrocer cross the side.

“Lillie,” Berdie clamored, “get your bag.”

On her feet, and disbelief thrown to the eastern wind, Berdie scrambled for the door. “Stand aside, please,” she shouted as she pushed and elbowed her way to the entrance, Lillie trailing behind.

“He’s done nothing wrong,” Amol shouted after them. “Nothing.”

Once out the door, Berdie allowed nothing to stand in her way as she rushed to the street. A car blasted its horn, making her jump, but she soldiered on until she was within arm’s reach of the van. The vehicle engine roared, and it lunged forward. “Stop,” Berdie screamed. “Sundeep, stop.”

Berdie heard the squeal of brakes as Lillie stepped into the road. A cab came to an abrupt halt.

“You mad?” the cabby screamed at Lillie from his opened window.

“Get in,” Berdie shouted at Lillie. “Get in the cab.”

Berdie raced to join Lillie at the black vehicle.

Lillie tussled with the door and rammed herself in the backseat, leaving the door open.

Horns blared from several vehicles.

Berdie scooted onto the seat next to Lillie. “Follow that van,” she commanded the driver.

“This isn’t Hollywood,” the lean cabby retorted.

Berdie watched the van screech to a halt as two people tried to cross the road in front of it.

“Follow that van and there’s twenty quid in it for you,” Berdie bribed.

“Thirty.”

Berdie grimaced. “Get on then.”

The cabby set his meter, and Berdie flew back against the seat as the car launched forward to the chase.

“This is exciting,” Lillie squealed, obviously past napping.

“You pay my fine if I get nicked.” The dark-haired driver glanced in his rear-view.

Berdie huffed as the work van commenced forward again. “Just keep the van in sight and mind how you go.”

“Truth be told, I’ve always wanted to do this,” he barked while accelerating. “I just always imagined it would be with some hardened and famous DI.”