TWENTY-NINE

I collected Annie and headed for the car with purpose in my step.

‘You look happy,’ she said.

‘I am,’ I replied, opening the door for her. ‘It’s amazing what a morning walk in the fresh air will do for you. How’d you enjoy the architecture?’

‘Fascinating,’ she said as she got in. ‘Still, if you want to see the real thing, you should go to Khajuraho in the United Provinces.’

‘You’ve been?’

‘Oh yes.’ She smiled. ‘A German archaeologist by the name of Brandt invited me earlier this year.’

‘A German?’ I said, shutting her door with a little more force than was required, and headed round to the side of the car to retrieve the crank. Under those circumstances, starting the car proved no trouble.

‘What’s a German doing running round India?’ I asked, getting in beside her.

She looked over. ‘There’re more of them here than you’d think. They’ve been coming ever since a professor called Max Müller translated the Hindu scriptures into English.’

‘And this chap, Brandt, is he here translating Hindu scriptures too?’

‘Hardly.’ She laughed. ‘He has this notion that Indians and Germans are descended from the same tribe.’

‘Sounds like a bit of an idiot, if you ask me. The old man is probably senile.’

‘Oh, he’s not old,’ she replied. ‘He’s younger than you.’

The car skidded as I threw it round a corner and onto the road back into town. The route was busy with groups of natives on foot, their tools in hand or slung over their shoulders, heading out to the dry fields. There seemed little benefit in dwelling on Brandt and his crackpot theories, so I kept quiet.

Annie eventually broke the silence.

‘You seemed to be having quite a nice chat with the Maharani.’

‘It was fascinating,’ I replied.

‘What did she want to talk about?’

‘Adhir’s murder. She wanted to know whether we’d made any progress.’

‘What did you tell her?’

‘The truth. I don’t know who did it, but I know it wasn’t Shreya Bidika.’

‘How did she take that?’

‘I’m not sure. She didn’t seem wholly convinced of her innocence. On the plus side, she offered me a direct channel through her to the Maharaja.’

‘Is that useful?’

‘It might be.’ I shrugged. ‘It would avoid having to go through Colonel Arora, or, God forbid, that bloody Dewan, Davé. What did you make of him?’

She pondered the question. ‘He’s a funny sort of chap. I think he considered our wandering round the temple sacrilegious.’

‘He should be getting used to it,’ I said. ‘According to the Maharani, Golding was here yesterday morning, also examining the carvings.’

She turned to me in surprise. ‘Really?’

Apparently.’

‘That’s strange,’ she replied. ‘When we were inside, Davé made a big song and dance about how you and I were the first non-Hindus to be allowed access to the temple.’

‘You’re sure?’ I asked.

‘Trust me, Sam. He wasn’t at all happy about it.’

‘Then why would the Maharani say she’d seen Golding there?’

‘Any possibility Golding might have been a Hindu?’

‘Judging by the way he was tucking into his roast beef at the Carmichaels’ the other night,’ I replied, ‘I think we can discount that particular theory.’

‘Maybe she saw him outside the temple grounds?’

I shook my head. ‘She said he was looking at the carvings. To do that, he’d have to be inside the compound.’

‘In that case, maybe the Dewan wasn’t there when she saw Golding.’

‘No,’ I said, ‘I think he was.’

Surrender-not was in the dining room of the guest lodge, polishing off an omelette. He looked up and almost choked at seeing Annie and me wander in together.

‘Something wrong with your breakfast?’ I asked.

He stifled a cough. ‘No, sir,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Just a piece of green chilli that caught me unawares.’

I patted him hard on the back and took the seat next to him. ‘Guess where we’ve been.’

‘Out for a walk?’

‘Of sorts,’ I said. ‘Miss Grant wanted to see the carvings at the temple.’

He blushed. ‘The erotic ones?’

‘Absolutely. It turns out she’s quite the aficionado.’

‘Stop teasing the poor boy, Sam,’ said Annie, as she sat down opposite us.

‘Very well,’ I said as a waiter approached. ‘I wanted to have a look round the temple. Golding had a meeting there pencilled in his diary. Turns out the First Maharani, Shubhadra, saw him there.’

Surrender-not looked at me, puzzled. ‘But that was scheduled for half past six last night, sir. He never showed up.’

‘We were wrong about the time,’ I said. I turned to the waiter and ordered an omelette.

‘But the diary entry read “6.30 pm New Temple”,’ protested Surrender-not.

‘True,’ I said, ‘but I think that was a reference to something else. Suppose it actually meant a meeting at six thirty with the PM, the Prime Minister?’

Surrender-not leaned forward. ‘You mean the Dewan?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Was the Dewan there yesterday morning?’

‘He was there with the Maharani this morning. She was there yesterday and I’m willing to bet he accompanied her there yesterday too.’

‘But why would Golding meet the Dewan there? Why not at his office? And why so early in the morning?’

‘I don’t know.’ I shrugged. ‘I’m guessing it has something to do with that damned report he was writing. Colonel Arora overheard Davé tell Sir Ernest that he’d received a copy.’

Surrender-not mulled it over. ‘So Golding meets with the Dewan, hands over the report, then disappears?’

‘That’s just it,’ I said. ‘I don’t think he did hand over the report. If he had, there’d be no need to ransack his cottage. I think Golding wanted to hand the report over to us, not the Dewan. That’s why he wanted to meet me yesterday morning. Maybe Golding’s report is the key to the whole thing?’

‘You mean Adhir’s murder, sir?’

‘It’s possible. Let’s assume there’s something going on at the mines that the royal family isn’t aware of. Maybe the Dewan is skimming off profits on the side. Suddenly, as part of the negotiations with Anglo-Indian Diamond, Golding is asked by Prince Adhir to prepare his report, and as part of his work, he stumbles across whatever the Dewan is up to. Davé, knowing he’s going to be discovered, orchestrates the killing of Adhir in the hope of covering his tracks. But he still needs to get hold of Golding’s report; and he also needs to ensure Golding’s silence.

‘So he meets Golding yesterday morning to try to buy him off, but Golding, fastidious accountant that he is, refuses to be bribed. Davé has him abducted, then organises the search of his house. Either he finds it there or, more likely, Golding cracks and tells him where it is.’

I’d been thinking aloud and took a minute to fully digest it all. I suddenly had a suspect who fitted the facts – most of them, anyway – and who possibly had a motive, too.

‘What does it mean for Golding?’ asked Surrender-not.

‘If we’re right, it doesn’t look good,’ I answered.

The conversation died as the waiter returned and placed a plate in front of me.

‘They wouldn’t kill an Englishman, would they?’ whispered Annie as the waiter departed. ‘They’d never get away with it.’

‘It’s a big step,’ I replied. ‘The Imperial Police would be all over this place if he’s been murdered, but—’

Surrender-not finished my sentence: ‘But without a body, it’s impossible to prove anything.’

‘And at present the Viceroy is keen to avoid any ructions that might stop Sambalpore joining his Chamber of Princes.’ I took a bite of omelette. Surrender-not was right. The chef hadn’t spared the chillies. ‘Anyway,’ I continued, ‘this is all just speculation. We need to get our hands on Golding’s report.’

‘And how do we do that, sir?’ asked Surrender-not.

‘I’ve asked Colonel Arora to get it for us,’ I said. As I spoke, a liveried bearer entered the room.

‘Captain Wyndham, sir?’ he asked. ‘I have a chitty for you from Colonel Arora.’

‘Talk of the devil,’ I said.

I thanked the man and took the note from him. It was simply a folded sheet of paper without an envelope. I unfolded it and read the handwritten note.

Your request to interview Her Highness Princess Gitanjali has been reconsidered. Permission is granted upon the condition that all questions are put to Her Highness by Miss Annie Grant.

Arora

I turned to Annie and Surrender-not and grinned.

‘We need that report.’

Colonel Arora was already at his desk. A cigarette stub burned slowly in a cut-glass ashtray, sending a wisp of blue smoke skywards only to be dissipated by the ceiling fan.

‘I was going to ask Davé for it.’

I’d left Annie and Surrender-not in Golding’s office and now sat facing the colonel.

‘I don’t think he’ll be keen on sharing it with us,’ I replied. I explained my suspicions to him — that the Dewan had met with Golding early the previous morning and that he may have been responsible for the man’s disappearance. ‘You’ll need to come up with something else.’

The colonel ran a hand across his beard.

‘There might be a way,’ he said. ‘Palace security falls under my jurisdiction. As such, I have access to keys for all of the offices in this building, including his.’

‘Nevertheless,’ I ventured, ‘if the Dewan’s willing to abduct an Englishman in order to get hold of the report, he’s hardly likely to leave it lying around.’

‘He has a safe hidden somewhere in his office,’ said the colonel. He picked up his cigarette and took a pull.

‘Have you got a safe-cracker among the royal retinue?’

‘I have something better.’ He smiled. ‘His Highness the Maharaja has a habit of shooting the messenger. Six years ago, when the previous Dewan incurred his displeasure, I was given the task of turfing him out of his office. There was an interregnum of a day or so before Davé was installed in his place. During that time, I had access to all the keys from that office and took the precaution of making copies of them, including those for a safe – just in case the originals ever went astray, you understand.’

‘Of course,’ I replied. ‘The question is when would be an opportune time to conduct our search. Will the Dewan be accompanying Prince Punit’s party on the tiger hunt?’

‘Fitzmaurice is going,’ replied the colonel, ‘so I would expect Davé to be there, but even in his absence, his secretary will be in his anteroom. It would be best to try some time in the evening, after the secretary has left for the day.’

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘We’ll aim to get hold of the report tonight, go through it and return it before his secretary arrives in the morning. That’s assuming it’s in the office in the first place, of course.’

‘Very well,’ said the colonel. ‘And what are your intentions until then?’

‘I’m going hunting,’ I said. And before that, there are a couple of ladies I’d like some answers from.’