Murder On A Summer's Day Part 40

'My condolences, Mr Chana.'

'Ah, you have heard of Maharajah s.h.i.+vram's death?'

'Yes.'

'I came out for air, not being needed at present.'

For him, this was a long speech. He had wasted so few words on me previously.

'I know this is the worst of times.' I took a chance. 'May I speak with you?'

'Of course.'

'I have a question.'

He inclined his head, as if all the better to listen.

'I understood that Ijahar had been in service to Maharajah Narayan, as his valet, since he and the prince were little boys.'

'That is not correct. He is too young.'

There should have been nothing eerie about his words echoing those of my dream, for there was only one other way for him to have said that: 'He is not old enough.' But he had said, 'He is too young.'

'My mistake then.'

'Perhaps not. Ijahar was valet to Prince Jaya since they were both six years old, so he has been valet to a prince since he was a little boy.'

'Then why was he with Maharajah Narayan?'

'Maharajah s.h.i.+vram decreed that when at his school in Scotland, Prince Jaya must be like a British boy and pull on his own socks. No valet.'

His answer made me s.h.i.+ver. Ijahar did have another master: Jaya.

'But didn't Narayan have a valet of his own?'

'He died.'

I was tempted to ask how Narayan's valet had died, but perhaps that was another story.

A tiny detail came to mind. When I first talked to Lydia, Rachel had come to the door to ask if she needed help in packing. Ijahar had sent her. He would not have dared do that if he knew the maharajah would be returning.

Chana had refused to hear my question when I asked him about the exchange of telegrams and who else knew about the propitious date for the maharajah's marriage to Lydia Metcalfe. I could not be sure where his true loyalties lay, but I had to try.

'I heard that the astrologer was calculating a propitious day for the family to return to India, and that he had not yet found a day suitable for Jaya.'

I expected a sharp question about how I knew. Chana simply released his hands and upturned his palms. 'An auspicious day for one member of the royal family may not be an auspicious day for another.'

He gazed at a cloud that hovered just above the spot where smoke had risen from the funeral pyre. 'You have a question, Mrs Shackleton. What is your question?'

'Jaya had a horoscope that foretold greatness, a prediction that the qualities of his ancestors would s.h.i.+ne in him.'

'I believe that to be the case.'

'Who are his ancestors?'

'Rajput on both sides. His mother came from the n.o.blest of families.'

'Isn't it odd that a woman of such n.o.ble birth would be a second wife?'

'She was betrothed at a young age to the son of a fine dynasty, ruling a twenty-gun salute state. That young man died six months before the wedding. The princess came to the Maharajah s.h.i.+vram Halkwaer of Gattiawan as his second wife, a match that brought honour to both families.'

'This horoscope of Jaya's, could it be interpreted as suggesting that he may succeed to the throne of Gattiawan?'

Chana turned and looked directly at me. He touched his moustache, not in a gesture of vanity, but as if it may help him to think. 'Sometimes, when an astrologer, even the best astrologer, is asked to write a horoscope for a charming and high-born lady who asks about the future of her son, he may add a little flourish or a word of praise that will ripple through the lives of that mother and son.'

'Do you believe that is what happened in this case?'

'I have no way of knowing.'

'Where is Jaya now?'

'He found the women's distress unbearable. He went for a walk.'

'But he was so ill.'

'He has recovered.'

I stood up quickly. Jaya must know that Rajendra was no longer clinging to his mother's sari.

'Thank you, Mr Chana.'

I ran, ran back to my car, jumped in, started the engine, b.u.mped a Rolls-Royce in my haste to be gone and drove up the winding lane, breaking all speed records.

Chana called after me, but the sound of the motor drowned his words.

Forty-Two.

Leaving the car by the side of the road, I ran along the path towards the Withers's cottage, following the smell of burning, and the smoke that rose above the trees.

My fear of the snake was nothing compared with terror at the thought that I had sent the child, his ayah, Sykes and Mrs Sugden to their death in an inferno. Sparks shot into the air. I ran so fast, I thought my heart would burst.

At first I could make out no one through the smoke, cracking sounds and steady thudding noise of a toppling roof beam. Then I saw Mrs Sugden, beating at flames with a thick blanket. The ayah threw a bucket of water on burning thatch that had fallen.

'Where's the child?'

Mrs Sugden was choking, coughing. 'He's at the well, brave little chap, bringing water.' She waved an arm towards the rear of the cottage. 'Mr Sykes reckons we've to make a fire break, or the whole wood will catch light.'

Then I saw Sykes, beyond the ruin of the burning cottage, chopping down a tree that was in danger of catching light. Someone must see the smoke soon. Someone must come. This could not be left to a man, two women and a child.

Sykes called to me. 'Fetch help!'

Mrs Sugden began to cough. Now that I was closer, I could see that she and the ayah had done a good job of stopping the fire spreading. The burning thatch was contained within the bricks of the house, but for how long?

The ayah came back with another bucket of water and threw it on tongues of flame that licked the air.

'Good la.s.s,' Mrs Sugden said.

I took the bucket from her, to give her a rest, and hurried towards the well. A second bucket had been left, half filled, waiting to be unhooked.

'Where is Rajendra?' I called. I had expected to see the child at the well.

When she heard her charge's name and the panic in my voice, the ayah came running. She coughed as she ran, holding her sari to her mouth. We looked about, and could not see him.

Then the ayah, whether by instinct or good hearing, ran towards the river.

Had the child gone to the river to cool himself from the heat of the fire, or to see whether he could more quickly draw water there?

The ayah reached the river's edge before me. She was calling out, panic in her voice.

The cry came from beyond the bend in the stream. A clump of trees blocked my view. And then I saw Jaya, thigh-deep in the water. He was standing over a floating pleat of linen.

'Rajendra!' I stepped into the stream, without stopping to kick off my borrowed shoes, hurrying towards Jaya and the floating linen. Jaya stooped down and raised a spluttering, choking child from the water.

'He fell in, didn't you, old chap? Lucky thing for you I'm here to fish you out.'

The boy could not answer. He coughed and spluttered as Jaya patted him on the back.

The three of us stood in the middle of the stream. My legs felt suddenly numb with cold. Words would not come. Another moment and the choking child would have drowned. I reached out for him as he spewed river water.

Jaya drew him away from me. 'My nephew is in no danger. No thanks to you, for placing him in a house of straw. He slipped, that is all.'

When he could speak, when he had stopped spluttering, Rajendra echoed Jaya's words. 'I slipped.' He held his uncle's hand. They walked ahead of me, to the river bank. 'Uncle, come and put out the fire with me.'

'We do not dirty our hands. Your mother sent me to bring you to her.'

'What are you doing here, Jaya? How did you know Rajendra was here?'

'Your highness. Don't you mean, your highness?' He stared at me with a brazen look, one of his nostrils twitching with disdain. 'Out of my way.'

'How did you know he was here?'

He moved ahead of me still grasping his nephew's hand. 'This stupid person thought you were drowning. She can't help her ignorance. Perhaps she is a girl guide and needs to do a good deed. Let her find a blind person to take across a busy road. Let her put out the fire.'

'I fell in didn't I, Uncle Jaya?'

'You were trying to walk on water.'

The boy laughed and then became suddenly serious. 'We shouldn't play when father is dead.'

'We weren't playing. We were cooling ourselves after these stupid people tried to burn you alive.'

The depth of his arrogance almost unnerved me. Fury rose in my throat. 'No, you were not playing. You are in earnest, Jaya, but you won't get away with this.'

'Hold your tongue, woman. I have come here to break some news to my nephew, but not yet.'

Rajendra looked up at him. 'What news, Uncle?'

They reached the bank before me. I clung to the drenched skirt to keep it from falling from me. My shoes squelched as I stepped onto the gra.s.s.

At that moment, Mrs Sugden came panting on the scene. She s.n.a.t.c.hed Rajendra and pulled him to her bosom.

'It's all right, Auntie.' He tried to free himself.

'That woman is not your auntie! Let him go, woman. You pollute him.'

I have never seen Mrs Sugden explode. She exploded now. 'I'll b.l.o.o.d.y pollute you. It was you set the house alight. I can smell the brimstone on you. I see it in your eyes. This boy's in my charge.'

It was a little late, but impressive.

Jaya moved towards her, to free his nephew from her grasp. She hit out at him, pus.h.i.+ng him away.

His mask of charm slipped. 'Don't dare touch me, you unclean piece of filth. You are lower than an untouchable, beneath contempt.' He turned to include me in his tirade. 'Your days are numbered.' He pulled at Rajendra's arm. 'Raj and I will grind the British into the dust. When he is maharajah, we will throw out the British. India for the Indians.'

It was a scene that called for King Solomon. Neither Mrs Sugden nor Jaya would let go of the child. Then the ayah began to wail. Her cries distracted both Jaya and Mrs Sugden. Rajendra broke free and ran back towards the house.

Jim Sykes stood on the path. If he had not, I believe poor little Rajendra would have gone on running until he was out of the county. Sykes picked up the child and swung him high onto his shoulders.

'Come on, little feller. We still need help with the fire. It's down to a smoulder but it could spark up again with the wind.'

Mrs Sugden glared at Jaya, and turned her back on him.

He spat on the ground.

We reached the well.

Sykes, carrying Rajendra, walked towards the road.

Jaya came swaggering up from the river, a mocking smile on his lips.

I said, 'How did you know where to find him? Did you follow us last night, or was that your minion, Ijahar?'