FORTY

I returned to the lodge to find Surrender-not in the dining room, finishing off an omelette. His eyes widened on seeing me and he almost toppled his chair in his hurry to stand.

‘Have you heard the news, sir?’ he said breathlessly. ‘They’re saying the Maharani Devika’s been arrested.’

‘It’s true,’ I replied.

He stared at me with incomprehension. ‘But why?’

‘Because Punit believes she was behind the plot to assassinate him and Adhir in order to place her son on the throne.’

‘But she’s only a girl.’

‘The chief eunuch was helping her. He was caught aiding our prisoner to escape. Both he and the assassin were executed last night.’ ‘But how do you know all this?’

‘I was there,’ I said, gesturing for him to sit back down and finish his breakfast.

‘Where?’

‘Down in the town. I watched as they were killed. Who told you about Devika?’

‘One of the maidservants. She speaks Hindi.’

‘So you can speak to women now, can you?’

He looked perplexed. ‘I’ve never felt uncomfortable talking to servants.’

I sat down opposite him as a maid appeared to take my order. It was probably the same one who’d chronicled last night’s events to Surrender-not.

‘What happened?’ he asked.

‘It’s a long story,’ I said, and it wasn’t one I felt like recounting. However, the look on Surrender-not’s face suggested he wasn’t keen on waiting.

Leaving out my own involvement, I threw him a scrap. ‘All you need to know for now is that Punit is in control. And it seems our friend Colonel Arora wasn’t in league with the plotters after all,’ I said. ‘He just felt that rather than giving them prison sentences, the interests of justice were better served by an elephant crushing their skulls.’

‘An elephant?’

I nodded. ‘Well trained too. Seemed to know its way around a human body.’

‘That’s novel,’ he said.

‘Apparently not. If the colonel’s to be believed, they’ve been doing it here for centuries. How’s the omelette?’

‘What?’

‘The omelette,’ I repeated. Any good?’

He stared at me as though I was mad.

‘Not enough chillies.’

I turned to the maid and asked for an omelette and a pot of black coffee.

‘Any sign of Miss Grant this morning?’

‘I haven’t seen her, sir. I expect she’s at the Beaumont.’ He checked his watch.

‘What time is it?’ I asked.

‘Almost eight.’ He took a sip of tea. ‘So what now, sir?’

I extracted a rather battered packet of cigarettes from my pocket and offered him one.

‘Now we follow the only lead we have left,’ I said, taking one for myself. ‘Golding’s report.’

From outside came the growl of a car. I looked out of the window as the red Alfa pulled up.

The colonel and my omelette arrived at the same moment, though if the omelette had been as cold as the colonel’s expression, I’d have sent it back.

‘Captain Wyndham,’ he said.

‘Colonel.’ I nodded. I didn’t bother getting to my feet. Instead, I waved him to a chair. For a moment we sat in silence. I took a pull of my cigarette and exhaled slowly.

‘I expect you disagree with my actions last night,’ he said eventually. ‘You must know that I couldn’t disobey Punit’s orders. If I had, it would have been my head on that block in place of theirs.’

‘It seems to me,’ I said, ‘that our interests might have been better served by questioning them before—’

‘Before what, Captain? Before giving them a trial and allowing them to drag everything out into the open? Do you think the people want to hear of their young maharani’s betrayal? And then what? A custodial sentence? As you so righteously pointed out, under your laws we are not allowed to execute anyone, not even those guilty of the highest of crimes. As for questioning them, the men are fanatics. The one you confronted in Calcutta preferred to shoot himself rather than answer your questions. What makes you think these men would be any different?’

‘They might have known something about Golding’s disappearance,’ I said.

The colonel’s face contorted. ‘You’re clutching at straws, Wyndham. Our ways may be offensive to your sensibilities, but don’t try to rationalise things by claiming that allowing them to live would have helped your investigation.’

‘You’re sure yourself that the Third Maharani is behind this?’ I asked.

He leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. ‘It’s the only theory that fits. She knows that the Maharaja is not long for this world. As his favourite wife, she would have known for longer than almost anyone else. Once her husband had died, she would lose all influence. And what would become of her infant son?’

He picked up a spare napkin from the table and began absent-mindedly folding it. ‘She must have realised that the only way to secure Prince Alok’s future was to murder the two princes in line to the throne ahead of him. She would have hatched her plot in the zenana with the aid of Sayeed Ali. But that is where her plan starts to go awry. They are overheard by the concubine, Rupali, who leaves notes warning Adhir. In spite of this, the attack on him is successful, and it is only thanks to your actions yesterday that the attack on Punit fails and the assailant is captured and brought back to Sambalpore. Word of his incarceration reaches Devika and she and the eunuch plot the man’s escape. Who else would have such easy access to the Maharaja’s seal or to the purdah car?’

‘Maybe it’s my turn to tell you something,’ I said. ‘Are you aware of the Maharaja’s condition this morning?’

His brow furrowed. ‘No,’ he said. ‘What have you heard?’

‘It seems when word of your little spectacle and the subsequent arrest of the Third Maharani reached the Maharaja, His Highness suffered some kind of seizure. He’s not expected to survive much longer, which means Punit will be Maharaja rather sooner than expected.’

‘That truly is a tragedy.’ The colonel sighed, not bothering to clarify whether he meant the Maharaja’s health or the prince’s accession.

‘So why are you here, Colonel?’ I asked. ‘With all that’s happened last night, don’t tell me you came to see me just to salve my conscience.’

‘Golding,’ he said. ‘You told me last night that you’d found two reports in Davé’s safe?’

I turned to Surrender-not. ‘Maybe it’s best if the sergeant explains.’

‘Two versions, yes,’ said Surrender-not. ‘I went through both in detail last night. Much of the wording is identical, only the numbers and the conclusions are different. Both were signed in Golding’s name, though the signatures are not the same.’

‘What does that mean?’ Arora asked.

‘One version paints a picture of large reserves of diamonds still in situ, the other shows a much diminished picture. As such, the overall valuations placed on the mines are also considerably different.’

The colonel rubbed his beard. ‘I assume they can’t both be genuine.’

Surrender-not shrugged. ‘I don’t see how.’

‘So which one is the real report and which the fake?’

‘I can’t say definitively until I’ve seen, the geological report and Golding’s back-up papers. They’re still in his office. I was planning to examine them this morning.’

‘We’ve been working on a theory,’ I said. ‘It implicates the Dewan, but it has holes in it.’

‘Holes?’ asked the colonel. ‘You think you can fill them?’

‘We’re going to try. Now that you’ve crushed our other enemies underfoot, there seems little else for us to do.’

He grimaced. ‘That’s the spirit, Captain.’

There was a knock at the dining-room door and Carmichael entered, grinning like a mule.

‘Mr Carmichael,’ said the colonel. ‘What brings you here?’

‘I have a letter to deliver to Captain Wyndham,’ he said, handing me a rather damp envelope with my name typed on the front. I tore open the seal and extracted one sheet of paper with the crest of the India Office at the top and the Viceroy’s signature at the bottom. Carmichael mopped his brow with a handkerchief.

‘The humidity’s unbearable,’ he said by way of answer to a question no one had asked.

I quickly scanned the letter. One paragraph, typed, single spaced, ordering me and Surrender-not back to Calcutta.

‘The telegraph lines are back up, then?’ I asked.

‘No,’ he replied. ‘They’re still down, but I sent a message explaining the situation on Monday night’s train to Jharsugudah. A telegram was sent to Delhi from there. The Viceroy himself has sent the letter recalling you. It was delivered by messenger less than an hour ago. I’ve taken the liberty of booking you a compartment on this evening’s train.’

‘Decent of you,’ I said, passing the letter to Surrender-not. ‘Take a look at this, Sergeant, and tell me if it’s in order.’

‘Of course it’s in order,’ Carmichael exclaimed. His forehead was already dotted with perspiration again. ‘It’s from the Viceroy himself. There’s no higher authority in India.’

’Still,’ I said, looking to Surrender-not, ‘best to be sure.’

The sergeant looked up and nodded.

‘Very well,’ I said. ‘If there’s nothing further, Mr Carmichael, I’m sure you have a lot on your plate today . . . or haven’t you heard?’

‘Heard what?’

Colonel Arora and I looked at each other. ‘Mr Carmichael,’ said the colonel, ‘perhaps it would be best if you made your way to the palace and requested a meeting with the Dewan.’

I watched Carmichael and the colonel depart, then stubbed my cigarette butt into a silver ashtray. A black mood descended. My time in Sambalpore was up. Two men mutilated; a maharani arrested; a maharaja struck down by a seizure, and a case ostensibly solved. For a moment, I fervently prayed that it was solved. Otherwise the blood spilt the previous night and that which might be spilt going forwards would be on my hands.

I stood up.

‘Where are you going, sir?’ asked Surrender-not.

‘To pack,’ I replied. ‘I suggest you do the same.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘What about Golding? I thought you wished to find him.’

‘That was before we received the Viceroy’s little note.’ I sighed.

‘But the reports, sir?’ said Surrender-not. ‘We know there’s something untoward going on. You said yourself that finding Golding could be the key to everything.’

I shook my head. ‘Golding’s dead,’ I said.

Surrender-not looked as though I’d slapped him. ‘You don’t know that for sure, sir.’

‘His pills,’ I said. ‘I found a bottle in his bathroom cabinet. They were sodium thiocyante, used for a heart condition. Whether he was abducted or he left of his own accord, he probably needed them to stay alive.’ ,

Surrender-not slumped back into his chair ‘But surely, sir . . .’ His voice trailed off.

‘All we have is a theory,’ I continued, ‘that Golding stumbled upon some fraud perpetrated by the Dewan. There’s nothing linking his disappearance to the assassination of the Yuvraj. We’ve no proof of anything.’

‘So we give up?’ he asked.

‘You read the Viceroy’s letter,’ I said. ‘He’s ordered us back to Calcutta, probably on pain of deportation. At least he kept the damn thing brief.’

Surrender-not took off his spectacles and wiped the lenses with a corner of his napkin.

‘The next train doesn’t leave until ten tonight,’ he said finally. ‘Do you propose we sit quietly in our rooms till then?’

‘Well, Sergeant, what would you suggest we do?’

‘You’re the senior officer, of course, sir,’ he said tentatively, ‘but we could always stick to our initial plan of examining the back-up papers in Golding’s office?’

The boy was right, damn him. Something did feel very wrong and Surrender-not knew it too. We had no choice but to keep digging.