‘What time did you find him?’ the police officer asked.
‘Nearly an hour ago now,’ Jack answered. ‘I was hoping to introduce myself. I’d heard he was staying here.’
‘Why would that be, Mr Bryant?’ He was a rotund man with bright white teeth, a pitted face and dark circles beneath his sharp chocolate brown eyes.
Jack frowned momentarily. ‘Well, I can’t quite remember where I’d heard about him – probably on the ship coming out – but I knew of Dr Brent’s work in Rangoon and of course then I met Sinclair, whom I’ve mentioned earlier, who also knew him and I thought I should say hello.’
The officer showed no expression at this response. ‘And you walked in and found him like this?’
‘Lying like this, but not dead. I told you, he seemed to know it was grave; asked me to convey his affections to his wife and —’
‘That he’s sorry, yes,’ the man finished.
‘That’s right.’
‘For tripping over.’ The policeman couldn’t quite hide the slight hint of sarcasm in his polite tone.
‘It’s what he said. I told you he kept reaching to his head and telling me he banged it when he fell. It was the second time he’d tripped over the rug today,’ he said, nodding towards the faded Indian carpet. ‘I told him to be still and that I would call for help but he wouldn’t let me go. He was frightened. And then he seemed to convulse and die as I crouched beside him. I couldn’t be sure and so called for help immediately.’
The short policeman seemed to bob lightly on his feet. ‘Forgive me, Mr Bryant, but logically he would have hit his head at the front.’
Jack shrugged. ‘I wasn’t here, Officer Guha. I’m sorry but I can only tell you what I know, and what I saw.’
‘Well, if you ask me,’ the army doctor said, getting to his feet with a sigh and a groan of protest from his knees, ‘the unlucky bugger has most likely hit this,’ he said, pointing to the glass paperweight. ‘That seems to suit the depression on the skull.’
‘He didn’t mention it. Well, I imagine he didn’t know what he’d hit.’
The doctor nodded. ‘A post-mortem will likely show his whole skull has cracked like an egg. It just hasn’t broken open completely. Blood will have probably flowed into the head cavity and constricted the brain,’ he said, making a squeezing gesture with his fist. ‘What an unlucky fellow.’ The doctor sighed. ‘Well, Officer Guha, my bit’s done here. We’ll hand over directly to your people now that we know none of the military are involved in this death.’
Jack’s heart raced with hope that this was his cue to leave. ‘Are we done here? May I leave now? I could use a stiff drink.’
Guha nodded. ‘One more question, sir, if you don’t mind. This Mr Sinclair you’ve mentioned.’
‘Yes?’
‘Where can I see him?’
‘See Ned? What has he to do with this?’
‘Simply that he knew the man. He may shed some light.’ Guha beamed Jack a bright, patient smile.
‘By all means. He’s staying at the Walkers’ house on Sheshadri Road.’
‘That’s Dr Harold Walker,’ the doctor said, pulling on his jacket. ‘Good man. You’ll find him at number four.’
Guha didn’t wait for the doctor to close the door. ‘Thank you, Mr Bryant. I’m most sorry you have experienced such an unpleasant evening in our beautiful city,’ he said in perfect English. ‘Perhaps you would permit us to come back to you with any further questions?’
‘Yes, of course, although I was planning to leave Bangalore shortly.’
‘Oh I see,’ Guha said. He bounced lightly again on his toes. ‘Where are you off to, sir … if I might inquire?’
‘Kolar Gold Fields. I have a job arranged there.’
‘Ah, KGF,’ he corrected with a small shake of his forefinger.
The doctor slapped him on the back in farewell. ‘Well, you’ll have plenty of fun there, son.’
Jack contrived a smile.
‘I’ll be on my way, Guha,’ the doctor finished. ‘Have the corpse brought around to the morgue and, if you need me to, I’ll be happy to perform a post-mortem, but I suspect we know he died of a head trauma due to a fall.’
Jack risked it. He had to know. ‘Did anyone see anything out of the ordinary to suggest it wasn’t just a tragic accident?’ He tried not to show that he was holding his breath.
‘Indeed, sir. No one we’ve spoken to saw anything, although two servants remember seeing Dr Brent arrive back at the club this evening. Where he had been earlier today is really what we have to find out. It’s early days yet.’
Jack felt his insides turn to ice.
Walker looked shocked. ‘Dead?’
‘I’m afraid so, Dr Walker,’ Guha replied, seeming to relish the attention.
‘But how can that be? He was apparently hale and hearty in my home just earlier this afternoon. How did he look to you, Ned?’ he said, swinging around to find Ned frozen by the sideboard, almost hoping not to be noticed.
Ned swallowed and straightened. ‘As you describe. He’s overweight and he was perspiring a great deal but he didn’t say he was unwell. Gave no indication of being ill certainly.’ He knew he should not embellish any further, so he stopped talking abruptly.
‘How long was he here, Mr Sinclair?’ Guha asked.
Ned deliberately frowned, trying to appear casually concerned. ‘Not long at all. Perhaps a quarter of an hour at most.’
‘And what did you talk about, sir, if I might be so bold?’
‘Nothing important. Dr Brent had been hoping to see me since discovering I was living here.’
‘Why is that, sir?’
Ned felt his cheeks burn and desperately hoped his flushing wasn’t showing up in the low lamplight of the room. ‘Well, he was wondering what to do with our family’s belongings that we left behind in Rangoon.’
‘I see. You left them behind?’
Walker interrupted and gave the man a stern glance of rebuke. ‘The boy lost both parents in tragic circumstances and Brent was good enough to provide food and lodging at his orphanage before Ned and his sister came south into India.’
‘You left the orphanage in difficult circumstances it sounds like?’ Guha persisted.
‘My sister and I did not want to live as orphans, Officer Guha, and we certainly didn’t want to be separated. By the letter of the law, I suppose we came to India as stowaways, but we didn’t want to miss the ship. I should tell you that we did indeed pay for that passage, and the crew knew we were on board from our first day.’ It sounded awfully thin but Ned pressed on, trying to contrive a story as easily as he had seen Jack do earlier.
‘And you didn’t see Dr Brent again today after he came here this afternoon?’
Ned shook his head, too frightened to answer immediately, but had the presence of mind to admonish himself that this looked guilty. He sipped from his glass of sherry when Guha suggested he take a brief moment to gather his wits. He was saved by the loud and boisterous arrival of Flora Walker.
‘Harold, is it true?’ she asked, horrified. ‘And, Ned, there’s a Jack Bryant waiting in the hall for you. Ah, here he is. Come in, Mr Bryant.’
Ned straightened. ‘Hello, Jack,’ he said as Jack entered the sitting room that felt suddenly crowded.
‘Hello again,’ he said, directing himself briefly at Guha, before walking towards his host. ‘Dr Walker, forgive my interruption but I thought Ned might need some support on hearing this news. It must be such a shock for him.’
‘Thanks for coming, Jack,’ Walker acknowledged. ‘Yes, this is a very regrettable business. Officer Guha, this is my wife, Mrs Walker, and you’ve obviously met Bryant.’
‘Please forgive me interrupting your evening, Mrs Walker, and for being the bearer of such sombre tidings.’
‘I heard it was an accident,’ Flora said. ‘Our mali, Sabu, is the eyes and ears of this household.’
‘Ah, may I speak with him?’ Guha asked.
Ned wanted t
o yell a frantic no and saw Jack blanch, but of course the Walkers gladly agreed.
‘Call him in, my love,’ Walker said. ‘Sherry, Jack?’
Jack shook his head and moved closer to Ned.
Guha bowed. ‘No, Dr Walker. Don’t disturb yourselves any further. You’ve all been most generous. Perhaps I could just speak with Sabu?’
A warning glance from Jack told Ned to hold his nerve.
‘I’ll take you,’ Ned offered. ‘This way.’
In the parlour they found Sabu muttering to the ayah, who was cleaning the pots and pans from the Walkers’ late supper.
‘Sabu,’ Ned began hesitantly, ‘this is Inspector Guha. He wants to ask you a few questions about this afternoon. You’ve probably heard that Dr Brent died accidentally tonight.’
Guha smiled politely at Ned, although Ned could tell that he was not pleased to see Sabu so fully briefed. Nevertheless it startled him and Jack when Guha launched into rapid Tamil. The ayah stood alongside, her eyes wide.
Ned stole a worried glance at Jack from behind but Jack had eyes only for Sabu, whom he locked onto with a stern stare. Sabu never took his eyes from Guha, but Ned was sure that the mali was only too aware of Jack’s searing glance.
Sabu answered several questions, hands gesticulating and head moving constantly.
It was when Jack and Ned heard their names spoken that they realised Guha was asking leading questions. Ned felt his knees go weak.
‘Excuse me, Guha. I heard my name spoken. Please translate what you just asked this man,’ Jack said. ‘I think it’s only fair.’
‘Of course. Forgive me, sir. It is just so much easier to get quickly down to business if I speak in our own language.’ Ned noted the hint of reprimand there. Perhaps Guha was one of the modern Indians who had begun to show resentment to the British presence in India. ‘I simply inquired whether Sabu heard any of the exchange between Mr Sinclair and Dr Brent.’ He turned to Sabu. ‘Reply in English, Sabu,’ he added and Ned definitely heard the word English said as though it were a dirty word.
Sabu stole a brief glance at Ned. ‘I was in the parlour,’ he replied in his singsong way. ‘I heard nothing that I shouldn’t.’
‘What does that mean?’ Guha asked.
‘Dr Walker does not like me, how you say, eavesdripping.’
‘Eavesdropping. You are not in any trouble, Sabu. Tell me what you heard.’
Sabu looked surprised. ‘I heard nothing, sir. I showed the visitor to the front room as I was asked, fetched Mr Sinclair and then I went about my duties. I was in the parlour and then in the garden sorting out the gardener and the chokra.’
‘How long were you in the garden?’
‘I cannot say, sir.’
‘Well, when you returned who was in the house?’
‘Other than the servants, only Mr Sinclair, sir.’
‘I see,’ Guha said, eyeing Jack.
‘Why has my name come up?’ Jack asked and Ned wished he wouldn’t press this fact.
‘I did ask Sabu if he’d seen you here at the time of Dr Brent’s visit.’
Jack turned to look again at Sabu with contrived astonishment on his face. Ned had to admit it – he was good!
‘Sabu said he let you in this morning after breakfast but has not seen you again until just now.’
Jack turned slowly to Guha. ‘Then I am at a loss. Officer Guha, I have acted in good faith on this very sad matter but somehow I feel you are looking for something more sinister.’
‘Forgive me, sir. That is not my intention. My job is to seek the truth and now I have it. I will go away and make my report. I have satisfied myself that Dr Brent’s death was accidental.’
Ned wasn’t sure he’d heard right. ‘So it’s over?’
Jack gave him a sharp glance.
Guha smiled at Ned. ‘I’m sorry to have taken up your time but we must – as you Brits say – cross all our Ts and dot our Is. No, I will not require you any more in this matter. Thank you, Mr Sinclair, Mr Bryant. Your part in this is done.’
‘Good,’ Jack said, not even looking relieved, Ned noticed. ‘Because Mr Sinclair and I are leaving Bangalore soon.’
‘I didn’t realise you were both leaving for KGF. And what will you do there?’ the policeman asked. Ned wasn’t ready to make such a decision and yet he didn’t want to spend another moment in Bangalore. He shrugged to consider an answer and to relax his shoulders, lose his nervousness. ‘I’m told the work there is plentiful. I gather KGF was the first part of the whole Asia region to have electricity. As a qualified electrician, you can’t blame me for making a beeline.’
‘I see. When do you leave?’
‘Tomorrow,’ Jack answered for Ned. ‘I’ve managed to get us a lift with some John Taylor staff who are coming for another tour at the mines.’ He smiled charmingly at Guha. ‘They’re driving up and I’ve squeezed us both in.’
‘I suspect you won’t have much to pack, Mr Sinclair,’ Guha replied, with an equally benign smile, ‘considering all your belongings are still in Rangoon.’
Ned said nothing. Jack gave Guha a hurry-on sort of shrug. ‘Well, if that’s all, Office Guha … I, er, I would like to return to the club and continue with my preparations.’
‘Of course.’ Guha turned to Ned. ‘Please pass on my thanks to Dr and Mrs Walker. I won’t disturb them again.’
‘I’ll see you out,’ Ned offered, as he gestured the police officer towards the parlour’s door.
Jack watched as Ned followed Guha and they disappeared into the main house, leaving him staring at the mali. The ayah took one look at them both and she too went back to her business.
‘Why did you do that?’ Jack’s question didn’t need elaboration.
Sabu took several moments before he replied. ‘The Walkers treat me as one of their own family. But there are others – most of the British, in fact – who treat us all like low-caste beggars. I am of a higher caste, sir. We are called Kshatriya.’
‘Shah-tree-ya?’
‘Very good, sir. I am from the warriors.’
‘The caste system is very complicated.’
‘It is how we live. And while I do serve, I still need respect. It is how it is.’
Jack understood immediately. ‘Brent treated you without respect. He ignored you as a person.’
‘As if I were mere filth to be pushed aside.’
Jack nodded. ‘Is this your revenge?’
‘No, sir. He was bad to me and I could hear he was being bad to Mr Sinclair, who treats all of us politely and kindly. I am not a man of revenge, sir, but I have pride. I am not sad the fat man is dead and I do not care how or why he died. I cannot hurt him through my silence.’
Jack stared at Sabu a moment longer, considering his logic. He thought for a second about giving the man money for providing him his alibi. But something in the man’s dark, sombre eyes told him that would be an insult. Instead, he held out his hand. ‘Thank you, Sabu. I am grateful that you did not mention my presence later today. I came only to protect Mr Sinclair.’
Sabu gave a single nod; it was just short of a bow. ‘Then I am glad you both are safe.’
Jack intensified his grip on the servant’s hand.
‘Can we keep this secret between us, for Master Sinclair’s sake?’
And Sabu almost made him smile when he blinked slowly and replied, ‘What secret, sir?’
PART TWO
24
October 1926
Jack and Ned had both come off the night shift and were sitting on the cool verandah of the KGF Club, looking out across the manicured lawns at the small army of gardeners who buzzed like bees around beds of flowers, trimming shrubbery and watering the grass, not one of them wearing a hat.
It was the start of a new day for most, but for the two men it was the end of their working day.
‘You have to pinch yourself sometimes to believe this isn’t actually Britain, don’t you?’ Ned put his beer down and sat back in the cane chair.
; Jack wiped his sleeve across his mouth and then sighed as the chilled beer hit the spot. ‘Not the Britain I recall. I come from Penzance, man! Steep granite cliffs and wild seas and freezing cold … not this garden party picnic scene you seem to like.’
‘Oh, go dip your head, Jack. I’m sure I heard you ask Gwen Davison whether she’d like to go for a picnic only the other day.’
‘Ah, but that wasn’t to eat cucumber sandwiches and look at the scenery.’
‘You’re a bad boy, Jack.’
‘Never claimed to be good.’
Ned sipped his beer again and after a short silence, sighed reflectively. ‘We got lucky in Bangalore.’
Jack didn’t need any elaboration to know what Ned was referring to. He stayed quiet for a moment, remembering their narrow escape. ‘That was six years ago, Ned. You’ve got to let it go.’
‘You think I should find it easy to simply forget I committed murder?’
‘You’re determined to ruin my peaceful morning.’ Jack put down his glass, exasperated. ‘Listen, Ned, the verdict was death by misadventure. Get on with your life. I don’t want to talk about this any more.’
‘Because you feel guilty? I’m the one to blame.’
‘Of course I feel guilty! But you need to make peace with your own conscience, as I have. Look at us! I’m suddenly a senior engineer, for heaven’s sake. I’d have waited years for this opportunity in Cornwall. And you’re near enough managing the electricity department already. Ned, this is old, old ground. We’ve trodden it once too often. I’m tired of it.’
‘You’re right, I’m sorry. We won’t speak of it again.’
Jack grabbed his glass and raised it. ‘I’ll drink to that!’
Ned picked up his glass too. ‘To our secret,’ he said quietly.
Jack leaned back, relieved, then knotted his hands behind his head. ‘This is the life, Ned, especially now that monsoon is past. But what you really want, I suspect, is a wife and a brood of children.’
‘Nothing wrong in that.’
‘Nothing, if your name is Sinclair. But mine’s Bryant and I prefer to think of myself as a Pirate of Penzance. Free as the wind.’
Fields of Gold Page 21
