In the carriage, Sona peeked often at Diana, her worried eyes searching Diana’s oval face. She was silent all the way to Malabar Hill, while Diana and I spoke English.
Diana said, “Poor little mite. Jim, she reminds me of little Chutki!”
We had negotiated a modest sum to secure Sona’s release. Since I didn’t carry enough, Jameson supplemented my funds. The madam of the kotha claimed Sona had no blood relatives. She did not mention the child’s father, although Sona had recognized Satya’s name. Now, eyes round with enchantment, Sona gazed at the palm trees speeding by.
With a sideways glance to check that Sona did not understand us, Diana said, “Wonder why that madam let the child go so easily. She hardly bargained at all.”
I shrugged. “Once she admitted the child wasn’t related to her, she could hardly demand more. All those uniforms, Jameson glowering at her. Probably thought I was an Englishman.”
“But … who was Sona’s mother? She said the woman died, but she didn’t give us her name!”
I shrugged. “Perhaps she didn’t know. The child had recently come to that house. An orphan, another mouth to feed. The madam said she was stubborn—that could mean anything—that’s why she locked her in the closet.”
“Satya used to visit her with sweets. His death was in every newspaper. Is that why Sona was sent to another kotha? There are so many unanswered questions!”
“Doesn’t explain why the place was abandoned.”
Diana had come with the intention to recover Sona. Now she worried about who might raise the child, asking could we foster her? This was news—I’d only hoped Sona could reveal Satya’s secrets. Diana’s interest in her was quite different. She’d expected a woman, abandoned much as my mother had been. It was sobering to consider which of us had the nobler motive.
Around five that evening, we rattled through the gates of Framji Mansion.
Sona asked in a thin voice, “What is this place?”
Diana assured her that she would be safe, and could even learn to read if she wanted. “Would you like that?” Diana asked.
“I want to work,” the youngster said in a plaintive tone. “I can sew designs on clothes and make chai.” They spoke of household chores as we climbed from the carriage, Diana carrying the child’s box.
Gazing up at the sweep of stairs leading to Framji Mansion, Sona said, “I asked Satya-ji to take me from that place. So many times I begged him.”
Diana’s glance caught mine, then I asked, “Satya? You knew him?”
Her dark gaze darted around. “My papa. Is he here?”
How did one tell the child? All along I’d been certain that solving the riddle of Satya’s last words would unveil his killer. But here was the answer, a girl with an untidy braid, face smeared with soot, who hesitated to set foot on the white marble steps of Framji Mansion. How could I say that her father was dead?
Fortunately, I didn’t need to. Giving me a meaningful look, Diana touched the child’s shoulder and said, “Shall we see the garden? There are houses behind there. Let’s go by the banana trees.”
She pointed out a squirrel, and the two started off toward Jiji-bai’s quarters. Since Diana had the matter in hand, I went up to tell Burjor and Mrs. Framji of our success. We had Sona, but would Satya have told the child anything of import?
As I hung my hat on the stand, Burjor barreled toward me. He wore a white suit, gleaming shoes, and the shiny formal pugree hat he’d worn to Diana’s birthday ball.
Mrs. Framji cried, “Thank heaven you’ve come! Do you have Shirin?”
I stared. “Baby Shirin?”
Mrs. Framji gave a keening wail and staggered. Burjor helped her into a chair.
I searched his jowly face. “Something’s happened?”
His voice crusty as a brun-pav, he said, “I was on my way to meet Adi’s lawyers. Mama stopped me just in time. Shirin was outside playing, but … now she’s not there!”
Mrs. Framji pointed to young Fali and baby Tehmina sitting on a couch. “The children were climbing trees by the servants’ quarters. But when I called them at teatime, no one knew where she’d gone. We searched the garden, rooms, godowns. Where could she go?”
Burjor mopped his forehead. “The well is closed with a metal grille. Shirin could not have pushed off the cover.” He glanced around. “Diana’s not with you?”
“We found Sona, Satya’s daughter,” I said, and quickly described our progress. I had the sinking sensation of having gone down a blind alley while a crisis loomed at home. When I assigned the Gurkha guards to watch Adi’s employees, it left Framji Mansion vulnerable.
“What’s the matter?” Diana asked, coming up with Jiji-bai and Sona in tow. Hearing of Shirin’s disappearance, she covered her mouth, aghast.
Jiji-bai hurried Sona into the kitchen as Diana clutched my arm. “We found Sona, and someone grabbed my sister? On the same day!”
“You think this was planned?” My mind spun at the implication. “How could they even connect little Shirin with us?”
Diana grimaced. “Jim—they knew because … oh God, because of me!” She ran to the morning room where teacups had been abandoned and biscuits half consumed.
Reaching into a cabinet, she unwrapped the gold-plated Ganesh. “You asked us to find out where the other statues were, yes? To whom Satya Rastogi sold them? I’ve been taking this around to our friends and neighbors. I asked their entire households, men, women, children. But Shirin has grown so attached to me, some mornings she wailed when I left. So, I took her with me.”
My heart gave a jerk like a mule’s kick. “Took her where?” Diana had risked being rebuffed by her neighbors and other families? All to further our investigation.
Color leached from her face. In that pale oval her eyes blazed, black with fury, though she answered calmly enough.
“Our last trip was to Bandera. My aunt who lives there knows everyone around. We showed the Ganesh in her home and asked all her neighbors. We even went to Chuim village and asked the fisherfolk. Shirin was with me … she thought it such a lark,” she said, her voice breaking.
I felt as though I was falling into a whirlpool. “Each time we get closer, the killer moves. We have Sona, but he’s snatched your sister. Why? It makes no sense!”