A Hanging at Dawn: A Bess Crawford Short Story

by Charles Todd

  “I came to the guesthouse, intending to return it, but the entourage had retired to their quarters, and I was ordered to set the guard instead of waiting until someone came down again. It was late when I returned, and the party had already finished their supper and retired. There was no one I could trust to see that the rattle was taken up to the Princess or the nursemaid.”

  I looked at the Major. “Is this true?”

  “I can vouch for the fact that Sergeant Major Brandon came to the door as I was leaving, and I gave him his orders. None of us stayed in the guesthouse. The rooms had been given over to the Princess and her entourage. We were to bivouac on the grounds.”

  “Then I suggest that we continue our journey, and when we have reached the Palace, I will ask the Maharani if I may speak to her daughter, to see if she confirms or denies the Sergeant Major’s account.”

  “I agree,” Major Dudley put in quickly. “With those additional facts in hand, in my opinion the Sergeant Major must be tried by a court martial, where all this information can be properly examined.”

  The Prince’s man stood then. “This is not a military matter. It is a simple case of theft and murder. That remains, whether the matter of the rattle is settled or not. And Her Highness cannot speak to what happened in the lines, where a man was killed. My master will be expecting me to bring this soldier back with me, to await trial as soon as the Prince returns.”

  “Then the question must be, did this man, this cart owner, have enemies? Is that why he is dead?” I asked. “Does anyone know anything about his past?”

  “He was guarding the property of His Highness. And he was killed because he tried to prevent the looting of the Prince’s property by this soldier.”

  I turned to Major Dudley, expecting him to stand by Simon.

  Instead he replied, “He has a point. This death occurred because of theft of the property belonging to the Princess. And the dead man is not an ordinary civilian, he was a member of the Prince’s party, if only for the journey to the Maharani’s Palace. I find it difficult to know just how we have the right to change the rules. It’s the Princess who has been wronged, not the Army. Although I’m reluctant to agree, I can’t see a clear reason to prevent the Sergeant Major being taken away and tried in the Prince’s state. With the stipulation of course of the Army overseeing proceedings. And if the Princess can’t be made available, the child’s nursemaid being sent for.”

  The doctor spoke then. “I disagree. The weapon used to kill the victim hasn’t been found. There are no traces of blood on the knife belonging to the Sergeant Major. And no bloody cloths or clothes discovered in his belongings. And there would have been a great deal of blood. There are no witnesses to the Sergeant Major having been seen in the lines at the time of this murder. Except for the discovery of the child’s rattle, there is nothing here to link one of Her Majesty’s soldiers to this murder.”

  The Captain spoke then. “There is the further matter of jurisdiction. This is neither the Prince’s lands nor an Army cantonment. Therefore, I recommend that we send this matter to Calcutta. Lord Minto’s writ extends to all of India that is not a part of a Princely estate. That would apply in this instance.”

  The arguments went on for another hour. Once Major Dudley had made his view known, the Prince’s man wouldn’t hear of any other point of view.

  Finally, the man stood up and said, “To disagree further is to cast doubt on the integrity of the Prince’s court. His Highness will not be happy to hear this.”

  I had no idea whether the Prince’s courts were fair or not. This man was determined to keep Simon in his grip and not let him go. That made me wonder if the Prince was such an upstanding man after all, because his representative here seemed to be in no mood to cross him.

  I said, “I cannot see how taking the matter to Calcutta is any reflection on the Prince’s justice. If the Governor-General feels that he has no jurisdiction, then he will send this matter where it belongs.”

  “The law is clear on this matter,” the Prince’s man told me bluntly. “There is no need to trouble Calcutta at this time.”

  I was beginning to think he disliked me—the look he gave me would surely have stopped a locomotive in its tracks. Well, I didn’t care very much for him either.

  I wanted to shout him down, but I knew that would be disastrous. The only way to help Simon was to keep my head and think clearly.

  “Perhaps that’s the very reason we should take this trial to Calcutta. You have given us no evidence to speak of. How many people were in this caravan yesterday? What have they told you about the dead man? Or who among them might be a thief, tempted by what those carts were carrying? And you have not found the golden chain. Where is that? Or the rest of the rupees?” I asked. “The Maharani will wish to know these things.”

  “We questioned the owners of the carts. They could only tell us that the dead man was new to the district. And not one of them has a record for thieving.” There was scorn in his voice. Then he turned to the Major.

  “We have listened with courtesy. Now we must ask you to step aside and allow us to take the prisoner in charge.”

  I could see that the Major was wavering, despite the disapproval of Dr. Broughton and Captain Ramsey. And so, I made the best of a bad bargain. I said, “Very well. If the Sergeant Major is taken out of the Army’s hands, officers from his Regiment must accompany him, to be certain that he receives a fair trial. With all respect due to the Prince, His Majesty the King Emperor would not wish it to be otherwise. He had always had a strong affection for the Army. And I believe when it comes down to it, his wishes are paramount.”

  “We cannot know what His Majesty’s wishes might be in this matter. He is dead.” His voice was cold.

  There was absolute shock in the room, a silence that went on for a stretch of seconds. King Edward had only been on the throne for—I quickly counted—nine years but he was very popular. I tried to take it in, and it was impossible.

  And then the thought came. Dear God—not now!

  The Prince’s man waited a moment, clearly relishing the effect his words had had. Then he added, “The shoot has been canceled, and the dignitaries have returned to Calcutta. The Prince is already on his way back to Rulumpur.”

  That broke the spell.

  The table was suddenly in an uproar.

  Major Dudley’s voice exclaimed, forceful enough to be heard over everyone else. “You cannot know that—”

  “A runner has just reported this to me. You saw him yourself. King Edward died at Buckingham Palace on the tenth of this month.”

  There was no way to prove or disprove this news.

  And every one of us there, shaken as we were, knew that the Governor-General and everyone else in Calcutta would have no time for anything else, just now.

  There were more questions. In the disarray at the table, watched by nearly everyone in the room, I managed to catch Simon’s eye. I smiled, silently formed a single word. “Richard.”

  In the end I got my way. The doctor, the adjutant, and Lieutenant Hayes went with the party carrying Simon to Lahore and from there to the Prince’s home, to await the arrival of the Prince himself.

  I asked to go as well, but I was told it would not be proper, as I was a woman and there were no facilities for me as we traveled.

  I asked permission to speak to Simon privately before their departure, but that too was denied.

  My last sight of him was as he was led out the door. Leg irons had been added to the chains around his wrists. I felt like weeping. I’d tried so very hard, and it still wasn’t enough.

  But there was no time for weakness.

  While the Prince’s man was making final the arrangements for splitting the caravan, some to return with the prisoner, others to continue on their way, I took Lieutenant Hayes aside.

  “I need to see where the murder happened,” I told him urgently.

  “I don’t know—” he began, still flustered by the turn of events.


  “The Maharani will wish to know what I saw. And the Colonel as well.”

  “I—yes, of course—this way.”

  The wagons had been drawn up in the rear of the courtyard, ranked by what they carried. The less important their load, the farther toward the back wall of the compound.

  I didn’t know the Lieutenant well. He was of medium height, fair hair and skin that turned red in the sun’s heat. His eyes were a blue-gray. And he’d just returned from leave in England, this time bringing his wife back with him. She had always stayed behind, reluctant to leave her parents, but he had persuaded her to join him, and whenever I’d spoken to her, she’d seemed more than a little overwhelmed.

  We found the proper wagon, still in its place but under heavy guard, now that everyone knew what it carried. It was to continue to the Maharani’s Palace with the Regiment’s escort and some of the Prince’s people to ensure it arrived safely. I could see the black stain in the earth by one wheel. Blood, I realized, still drawing flies. That was where the man had been killed.

  Just above the spot, I could see that someone had taken a knife to the heavy ropes that held down the canvas that covered the cart. Just above that, a slice in the fabric itself had been hurriedly patched.

  We walked around it, then I knelt in the dust to look under it. But there was no sign of a knife. Had the killer taken it with him?

  I turned. The high wall around the guesthouse was some thirty feet away. Still, it was close enough for someone to run toward it and throw a heavy knife over the top of it.

  I said to the Lieutenant, “Has anyone searched the outside of that wall?”

  “Er—no, ma’am. I don’t believe that was done.”

  “Find two of our men and have them walk the perimeter with you. I’ll stand here, so you will know where to look. But keep a sharp eye out for anything that might help.”

  He wasn’t used to taking orders from one of the Regiment’s wives. But he was a good man, and after the briefest hesitation, he nodded. “He could have just that, hoping to collect it later. God knows, there must be a hundred knives amongst the Prince’s men. Ceremonial and real. We looked at each one.”

  “I don’t think he expected to be disturbed. He might have panicked, got rid of the knife. It’s worthwhile checking.”

  And he was gone. I walked toward the wall, standing just a few feet from it. Vines covered part of it, but they weren’t thick enough to hold a knife, even if it had landed short and fallen in them.

  I heard a shout, and the Lieutenant called, “Mrs. Crawford? Are you there?”

  “Keep moving toward the sound of my voice. I think you may be about fifteen feet short.”

  There was a tap on the wall. “Yes, that’s right,” I said.

  I could hear men talking, but not what they were talking about. After several minutes they moved on.

  I left the wall, then, and hurried toward the gates in front of the guesthouse.

  I hadn’t been there very long when the Lieutenant, Private Jeffers, and Private Dunn walked through. I couldn’t tell from their expressions whether they’d found anything or not.

  The Lieutenant gestured for me to follow him, and out of sight of the Prince’s camp, we stepped inside one of the Army tents that hadn’t yet been taken down. “Look at this,” he said quietly, and opening his tunic he took out a rather dirty silk handkerchief and set it down on a camp table. I saw then that the stiff, dark stains weren’t earth, they were blood. With the two Privates as our witnesses, he unrolled the handkerchief to reveal a long, narrow-bladed knife, a gold chain, and a sack of silver rupees. “I didn’t see it, actually,” he was explaining quietly. “I stumbled over some half-hidden stones, and when I looked down, I realized the earth around them was loose. A little digging brought this to light. It had been hastily, but carefully buried.”

  “The gates were closed when we arrived. When could someone have buried these?” I asked, curious.

  “That’s just it, they were opened while the Princess’s entourage was being collected. Anyone could have slipped out then—there was a lot of confusion. What should I do with this?” He cleared his throat. “Major Dudley could tell me to hand it over to the Prince’s man, now. But I don’t trust him, Mrs. Crawford. He could easily swear later that he never had it in his possession.”

  The knife was similar to those I’d seen in the bazaar shops, popular and cheap, although the steel was good. Villagers kept them sharp and used them for any number of things. When I touched the blade with my fingertip, it came away a rusty red, and I hastily wiped my fingers on my own handkerchief. The rupees were Edward VII, common enough. The chain however was heavy gold, distinctive. Broken up and sold, it could keep a poor family in food for a year.

  “Give it to me,” I said finally. “This should go to the Maharani. Her word against that of the Prince’s man will carry more weight than ours. But I’m swearing all three of you to secrecy, do you understand? No gossip about this in the barracks.” But I knew already that for Simon’s sake, they wouldn’t talk. “I will tell the Colonel, no one else. Not even the Sergeant Major, if they let me have a final word with him. You may be called as witnesses later. Are you prepared to testify?”

  Both men agreed that they were—they were even eager to go with the officers following Simon. But Lieutenant Hayes had reservations.

  “Are you sure, ma’am, that this is the way to handle it?” he asked, worry in his voice. “Begging your pardon, but I’d as soon throw this in that man’s face straightaway. Very publicly.”

  “If we give it to the Prince, he will say that we knew where Simon had hidden it, and are trying to do this now to clear him of blame. It’s safer with the Maharani.” Even as I said that, I could only hope that it was true.

  “But Sergeant Major Brandon doesn’t have silk handkerchiefs, ma’am,” Private Dunn said. “We have cotton or linen.”

  “Handkerchiefs can be stolen. Unfortunately, there doesn’t appear to be any identifying marks on it.” I looked at it carefully. “No initials. Not even the Prince’s coat of arms. Nor is it something one of the carters might own.” And that brought me back to my earlier thought, that it was possible the Prince’s minister was busy protecting his master’s good name. Better a soldier to take the blame . . .

  Lieutenant Hayes gestured to the two privates standing there watching us. “Take them home with you, ma’am. Where the Maharani can have them questioned. Don’t let them go anywhere else.”

  “Yes, that’s probably for the best. Let them escort me.”

  “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but I wish the Colonel was here in your place!”

  “I do as well, Lieutenant,” I responded fervently.

  The chaos in the courtyard had sorted itself out, and the caravan, much shorter already, had finally been divided to the Prince’s man’s liking. I kept watching for any sign of Simon, but the Prince’s men were keeping him incommunicado.

  It occurred to me then that perhaps they were afraid for him to speak to us, not the other way around.

  But why?

  I hadn’t had a great deal of contact with members of the Princely Houses. I’d met quite a few of them at durbars for notable guests, but not to speak to for any length of time. I was after all the wife of a serving officer, and not particularly important myself. But they had been gracious and I’d liked most of them. More to the point, they had liked Richard, talking to him at length about the Frontier and interested in his point of view. But sometimes retainers are haughtier than their masters . . .

  I found myself thinking that we should have brought the chaplain with us, in place of the doctor.

  And as I formed that thought, a brilliant idea seemed to burst into my head, giving me sudden hope.

  I went to find the doctor, who was conferring with Captain Ramsey, the adjutant, in a quiet corner of the chaos.

  He turned at once to me, saying, “This is a grave situation, Mrs. Crawford. I needn’t tell you that.”

  Apparently he an
d the Major were quite concerned about abandoning me, as it were, as they’d tried to provide for my return to the cantonment.

  “I don’t know how else to arrange the officers,” the Captain was saying. “You should have a larger escort. It isn’t safe for you to be riding that far alone. Would you consider going first to the Maharani’s?”

  “I appreciate your concern, gentlemen. But someone has to be there when the Colonel Sahib rides in sometime tonight or tomorrow, to see that he hears a straight account of this business. I’m perfectly capable of doing that. The Major must accompany the caravan to the Maharani’s to be sure it arrives safely, and she is given a full account. Her daughter left before the charges were brought against the Sergeant Major, but she may know something helpful. And you must go with the Sergeant Major to see that he’s treated fairly. Richard will follow as quickly as he can.”

  The doctor said, “We’re leaving the cantonment very shorthanded as it is. For all we know, this theft and murder were staged, to allow the Regiment to be stripped, officers heading out in every direction. I wouldn’t put it past some of those tribes to consider such a game. And if there’s an attack coming, we’ll be hard-pressed to deal with it.”

  Lieutenant Hayes, who heard that as he joined us, seemed to be less worried. “I can’t see the Prince’s people conspiring with the Frontier tribes.”

  “There needn’t be a conspiracy. One man—a bullock driver, even someone following the retinue at a distance, waiting his chance—could be here to start trouble,” Captain Ramsey agreed.

  I replied, “It’s Sergeant Major Brandon who is in danger at the moment.” Then, looking around the four of us, to be sure we couldn’t be overheard, I added, “I need your help, Doctor. Do you mind lying in a good cause?”

  He smiled. “It depends on the cause.”

  And I explained. “Could you demand to see the Sergeant Major, because he has a health condition that you wish to be certain will not cause trouble during the journey to Rulumpur?”

  “What sort of health issues, Mrs. Crawford?”

  “Any that you might come up with. They’re refusing to let us speak to him. And in examining him, you might be able to find out more about what happened than we know now.”