The Inspector de Silva Mysteries

by Harriet Steel

  In her neat, teacher’s hand, she wrote the words, “For the attention of Inspector de Silva. Most urgent.” on the envelope then waited until she heard the footsteps of the servant she had instructed to take tea to the verandah before returning to Prasanna.

  The young man leapt to his feet and smiled shyly. ‘This is very kind of you, ma’am.’

  ‘Not at all. I usually have a little something at about this time and I’m delighted to have company to share it with. Now, do sit down. You must try a slice of our cook’s butter cake. He makes a very good one.’

  They sat down and he took a piece of the cake and put it on his plate. ‘I have been admiring your sewing, ma’am.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not very skilled, but I enjoy it and it passes the time.’ She held up the purse. ‘I’m making this for one of the stalls at the church fête that’s coming up soon. It’s the kind of thing that always sells well. I only wish I had time to make more, but I fear I’m a very slow needlewoman. Does your mother like to sew, Sergeant Prasanna?’

  A glum expression clouded Prasanna’s face. ‘No, ma’am.’

  ‘What a pity. Well, if you should happen to think of anyone who might like to give me some help, it’s for a very good cause. We hope to raise money for orphaned children of the plantation workers.’

  ‘As you say, ma’am, a very good cause.’ He paused, bestowing a dejected look on the crumbs on his plate.

  ‘Do have another piece,’ Jane said encouragingly, pointing to the cake stand. He took a slice but instead of eating it, began crumbling it absentmindedly.

  ‘Have you someone in mind, Sergeant?’ she asked gently.

  He looked up. ‘I have a friend who is very clever with her needle, but she will not be in Nuala much longer.’

  ‘Oh dear, what a pity. Are you sure she can’t be prevailed upon to stay, just for a little while?’

  Prasanna reduced the cake to dust. ‘No, ma’am.’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘It is impossible.’

  ‘Nothing is impossible, Sergeant. Perhaps if you tell me more, I will be able to help. I have, after all, lived a great many more years than you.’

  Jane watched him avert his eyes and felt a pang of annoyance with herself. Had she taken too much of a liberty and lost her chance of winning his confidence? His next words, however, reassured her.

  ‘Mrs de Silva… I would be very grateful if you would help me.’

  ‘And I’ll be delighted to do whatever I can.’

  ‘Inspector de Silva has been so good to me that I don’t know how to tell him.’

  There was a long pause. ‘Tell him what, Sergeant?’ asked Jane eventually.

  ‘I must leave the police force, ma’am.’

  ‘Gracious me, that seems very drastic. Surely there is some other way of dealing with this problem, whatever it is? My husband is always telling me he thinks you have the ability to go far. It would be a great pity to give up now.’

  Prasanna chewed his lower lip. ‘He is very kind to say so, ma’am, but there is no other way.’

  ‘Sergeant, does this have something to do with a young lady called Kuveni?’

  Prasanna looked sheepish. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  A defiant look came into his eyes. ‘We want to be together and that is impossible if I stay. Her father is sicker and sicker every day and her brother, Vijay, wants to take him back to the jungle. He refuses to leave his sister alone in Nuala, so she must go too. They will not come back here. Vijay claims it is living among so many people in a town that has made their father ill in the first place. He believes that returning to the old Vedda ways is the only thing that will cure him.’

  ‘But it may not be the right thing for Kuveni?’

  ‘I’m sure of that, but she does not want to disobey her father and her brother. The only answer is for me to hand in my notice and go with them.’ He averted his eyes. ‘I still have to tell my mother what I have decided. She will not like it, but it can’t be helped.’

  Jane’s forehead creased. ‘Oh dear, my husband will be very sorry and so shall I. To say nothing of how your poor mother will feel. Surely if we put our heads together, we can solve the problem?’

  Prasanna looked bemused and she smiled. ‘I mean that between the two of us, we should be able to find a solution to your problem.’

  ‘You are very kind to say so, ma’am, but I do not think any other way is possible.’

  She studied him pensively. ‘Do you know something, Sergeant? I believe you may be wrong about that.’

  Chapter 26

  ‘By golly, when you said you would speak to Prasanna I didn’t expect everything to be settled so quickly.’

  ‘I didn’t see a good reason to delay. Kuveni and her family might have left Nuala at any moment and then where would we have been?’

  ‘Where indeed. I know that I would have been very sorry to lose my sergeant.’

  De Silva stretched his legs out on the hearthrug and took a sip of his whisky and soda. It had been a tiring day and he felt he had earned a strong one. He still hadn’t managed to track down Matthew Claybourne, and all he had to show for his exertions was sore feet. The thought of losing his promising sergeant was even more disturbing than it might otherwise have been. ‘So you’ve already seen the girl and her family and they agree to her coming to live here, as we discussed?’

  ‘Yes. Her father and her brother were a little dubious at first but I managed to reassure them.’ She chuckled. ‘Kuveni herself needed very little persuasion. It’s clear to me she’s as fond of Prasanna as he is of her. She was happy with the idea of helping me with the sewing, and after the fête is over, I’m sure I can find plenty of other little jobs for her to do for as long as she wants to stay. As you said, she seems very bright. We shall see what can be achieved with a few English lessons. If she learns to speak the language, it will open many doors.’

  De Silva’s head was in a whirl. He knew from experience that once Jane seized on a plan, there was no stopping her. He thought, however, that he ought to introduce a note of caution. ‘But what about Prasanna’s mother? Suppose she remains opposed to the match? We don’t want to come between her and her son, do we?’

  ‘Of course not, but I’m confident that once she’s acquainted with Kuveni and sees how she and Prasanna feel about each other, she’ll give them her blessing.’

  He leant across and patted her knee. ‘Congratulations, my love. Mrs Bennet was an amateur compared to you.’

  ‘You know, dear, I rather think she was.’

  **

  The days that followed passed peacefully. In fact so peacefully that de Silva put thoughts of his perplexing visitor to the back of his mind. They only returned to Claybourne when he heard that, with the funeral now over, Lady Caroline and Ralph Wynne-Talbot would shortly leave Nuala for Colombo and the ship for England. If Claybourne didn’t return soon, Wynne-Talbot would be five thousand miles away and safely installed as the 14th Earl of Axford. It would be far too late to challenge him then.

  De Silva added some more curlicues to the doodle on his blotter as he mulled the matter over. It went against his principles to give up, and Claybourne’s story hung together, but what else could he do? Confronting Ralph Wynne-Talbot with an accusation of murder was going to be risky enough, but when it was solely based on the evidence of someone who had vanished into thin air, it was professional suicide.

  The pen inscribed a final flourish; he replaced the cap and looked at the clock. Good, it was time to shut the station and go home. As the Morris purred towards Sunnybank, he looked forward to a pleasant evening with Jane.

  **

  ‘Much more of this whistling around the station and Nadar and I will have to stuff a gag in Prasanna’s mouth,’ he remarked as he and Jane ate dinner. ‘I’m not sure it wasn’t better when he was behaving like a wet month.’

  ‘A wet weekend, dear, and I’m sure you don’t mean it.’

  He grinned. ‘I’m joking, of course. But it did seem more like a month than a weekend.’


  ‘And what about Constable Nadar? I hope the baby isn’t still teething.’

  ‘I believe that is over and for the present Nadar is remarkably alert. Do you know, I believe life in Nuala may be measuring up to expectations after all?’

  ‘We mustn’t tempt fate, but you may be right. It’s nice to have nothing more to worry about than whether the fête will go well on Saturday.’

  ‘Of course it will. I feel it in my bones.’

  He helped himself to spicy dahl and a large spoon of fragrant rice. ‘How is the sewing getting on?’

  ‘Very well. Kuveni is so much quicker than I am and has lots of good ideas for designs. I think Florence can’t fail to be impressed and that will be a very good thing. If I let her believe that Kuveni is her own discovery, she’ll recommend her to her friends. Kuveni might build up a nice little business given time.’

  ‘That’s excellent. So, even if things don’t work out between her and my sergeant, she has a skill that will enable her to support herself.’

  Jane looked at him quizzically. ‘Oh, I don’t think we need worry about that.’

  She put down her knife and fork and replaced her napkin in its silver ring. ‘I think I shall read for an hour or two. I need a rest from all this sewing.’

  ‘I’ll join you, but I’d like a walk round the garden first.’

  ‘Well, be careful not to bump into anything.’

  ‘You know I have the eyes of an owl.’

  The balmy night air intensified the scents in the garden. De Silva loved to walk among the flowerbeds at this time, drinking in the many aromas and admiring how the moonlight cloaked everything with a silvery sheen. Small scuffling sounds in the bushes told him he wasn’t alone. He heard the high-pitched squeak of fruit bats on their nightly hunt.

  Then all at once, there was a different sound from the direction of the large tulip tree, as if a bigger creature had found its way into the garden. He froze and listened. It might be many things: monkeys, or perhaps one of the big monitor lizards, even – and the thought caused him considerable alarm – a leopard that had wandered out of the jungle in search of easy prey. Most wild animals would do you no harm unless you cornered them and he had no intention of doing that, but a leopard might be hungry.

  Very cautiously, he crept across the lawn in the direction of the verandah. His heart pumped faster and the blood sang in his ears as he thought he saw something move behind a tree. Was there a low snarl too? He kept moving slowly; it was a mistake to run. A leopard had the speed to outrun the Morris, let alone a middle-aged policeman who was a little too fond of his food.

  In the drawing room’s lighted window he saw Jane already settled in her chair, her head bent over her book. A few more moments and he reached the verandah and slipped inside to join her, closing the door firmly behind him.

  Jane looked up. ‘Whatever’s the matter, dear? You look quite unnerved.’

  ‘I believe we have an intruder in the garden. A leopard possibly.’

  ‘Gracious. Isn’t it unusual for them to come so close?’

  ‘Yes, but maybe it’s an old one and not as fast as it was. Domestic animals are attractive then.’

  Jane shuddered. ‘They’re such beautiful creatures but I prefer not to share the garden with one.’

  He picked up his book. ‘Don’t worry. In the morning, I’ll get the gardener to check all the fences.’ It was only later that it occurred to him that the interloper might have been human.

  Chapter 27

  For as long as anyone could remember, the Nuala church fête had been held in the garden at the vicarage. This year was no exception. As de Silva carried boxes and bags to the trestles set up ready for the Bring and Buy stall, he glanced at the roses and felt mischievously gratified that his were, once again, doing far better than the vicar’s.

  He put down the last of the boxes and wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. ‘Phew! Perhaps I was a beast of burden in a former life, but I hope I won’t have to be one again.’

  ‘Poor dear. There’s a refreshment stall over there in the shade. Why don’t you fetch yourself a cold drink?’

  ‘I might just do that. Would you like something too?’

  ‘Not yet, thank you. I’d rather set everything up first and I expect the others will be here any moment. I’m expecting Kuveni as well. She’s coming by rickshaw with a few last-minute things.’

  ‘So it sounds as if you won’t be needing me on the stall then.’

  ‘Probably not, but I forgot to mention that Joan Buscott’s husband would be very grateful for some help with the Pin the Tail on the Donkey competition and the coconut shy. He’s such a nice man; I’m sure you’ll enjoy chatting with him.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll get something to drink first then go and introduce myself.’

  There were several ladies busying about at the refreshment stall. Among them, de Silva noticed Reverend Peters’ wife, second-in-command to Florence Clutterbuck in Nuala’s social hierarchy. She broke off from what she was doing to exchange a few civil words with him and he paid for and drank his lemonade. Plates filled with tempting-looking cakes and biscuits were already laid out under net covers to keep away flies. He made a mental note to return later.

  Joan Buscott’s husband was hammering a square white post into the ground when de Silva reached the coconut shy. Shading his eyes with one hand, he stopped work for a moment. A tall man with an enviably luxuriant head of greying hair, he had bushy eyebrows that reminded de Silva of the fat caterpillars he had removed from one of his chrysanthemums on his walk round the garden at Sunnybank that morning.

  ‘Ah, Inspector de Silva, I presume! Good of you to help out. I’ve got Doctor Hebden coming along later, but he has a patient to attend to first.’ He extended a leathery hand. ‘John Buscott, by the way.’

  Between them, they soon had the rest of the posts in place and coconuts balanced on the top of each one. Prizes were laid out and the venerable cork board set up with a picture of a grey donkey pinned to it. Buscott fished around in a box and found the tail. ‘Excellent,’ he said, putting it on the table next to the blindfold. ‘All shipshape and Bristol fashion. Now we can settle down for a bit and wait for the fun to begin.’

  He sat down and crossed one long leg over the other. The red-and-white striped deckchair gave a small creak of protest. ‘This will be my last fête in Nuala,’ he remarked.

  ‘Ah yes, your wife mentioned at the Residence dinner that you are retiring back to England soon.’

  Buscott nodded. ‘We’re not getting any younger, and my wife wants to be near our children and grandchildren. She’s not had much time with the family what with following me round the world for most of my working life.’ He pulled a packet of Passing Clouds out of his pocket – the same brand Archie Clutterbuck smoked, observed de Silva – and offered one. De Silva shook his head. ‘Thank you, sir, but I won’t.’

  ‘Not a smoker, eh?’

  ‘No.’

  He excused himself the little white lie. The cigarette he’d smoked a few days ago had been medicinal. Now that everything was back to normal, he could do without one.

  ‘Nice little seaside place called Broadstairs,’ Buscott continued. ‘That’s where my wife’s chosen. It’s near the family and she loves the sea. I’ve toyed with the idea of taking up sailing again, used to be keen as a young man, but it’s probably safest to concentrate on brushing up my golf swing. That’s what my wife advocates anyway, and the ladies usually know best.’

  ‘Indeed they do.’

  ‘We’ll be sad to leave, of course. It’s been a good life here and an interesting one.’

  ‘I understand you’re an engineer?’

  ‘That’s right, man and boy. Railways mainly, so of course there’s been plenty to keep me busy in Ceylon. I moved to the administrative side in my early fifties. Much as I enjoyed it, working in the field’s a young man’s game. My wife tells me you moved up here from Colombo for similar reasons.’

  ‘Yes, I wan
ted a quieter pace of life.’

  Conversation languished as Buscott puffed on his cigarette and they watched the trickle of early arrivals to the garden. ‘I hear Lady Caroline won’t be attending today,’ Buscott remarked after a while. ‘I think my wife was disappointed. They’re old friends. But it’s understandable. Terrible business about that niece of hers.’

  ‘Terrible.’

  ‘I suppose the nephew will rally, he has youth on his side, but that kind of thing knocks a man about a bit. Never really got to talk to him as much as I’d have liked. I’d hoped to hear about his involvement with the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Quite a feather in the old cap being associated with a project of that magnitude, but he wasn’t very forthcoming when I asked him about it at the Clutterbucks’ dinner. I suppose he had a lot on his mind even then. Probably shouldn’t have expected him to spare the time to talk shop with an old buffer.’

  He looked up. ‘Ah, here come the hordes. Right de Silva, best foot forward!’

  Best foot indeed, thought de Silva as he umpired excited children and gimlet-eyed fathers. An hour passed before David Hebden arrived, dressed in the ubiquitous cream linen suit and Panama hat of the Englishman abroad.

  ‘Sorry not to be here before,’ he said, shaking hands with Buscott. ‘I’d promised to call in on one of my patients down near Hatton.’

  He gave de Silva a curt nod and the inspector was taken aback. This was very odd. Even if their past history had not always run smoothly, their last meeting at the Clutterbucks’ dinner had been perfectly amicable.

  ‘That’s quite alright,’ said Buscott cheerfully, apparently oblivious to the awkwardness between his companions. ‘Duty first, eh? Good to have you here now.’ He gestured to the queue. ‘As you see, we’re a popular attraction. You might like to start by finding my wife and asking her if she’s got anything extra tucked up her sleeve that we might use for prizes. We’re in danger of running short.’

  ‘Certainly.’