“Is that true Padma? Did she set light to herself?”
“Her charred body was found. The important thing is that the police didn't investigate, they said it was a family matter but I believe the matron was murdered.”
As Padma hissed the final word, the girl in the adjacent bed stirred. Kal crouched lower and pushed away the memory of Derick in the body bag and tried not to think of the matron aflame, burning to death in agony. Tried not to think either about the fact that the matron was the same ethnicity, and perhaps a similar age, to her own mother.
Once all became calm in the next bed, she moved her mouth close to Padma’s ear and concentrated to make sure her voice didn’t come out shaky.
“What makes you think the matron was murdered?”
“I think someone wanted her out of the way and they made it look like she set fire to herself. Self-immolation is impossible because I know she was happy. She was happily married and everyone knows that, so she’d never set fire to herself and she loved her work. No, she was murdered and no one wants to ask questions because they're scared so they all pretend, they go along with the lies told to them by the police.”
Now Kal’s shirt stuck to her back and not due to the warm, night air. Padma believed what she was saying. When the child in the neighbouring bed muttered in her sleep, Kal and Padma fell silent.
That afternoon, Kal had spent an enjoyable time with Padma and Ashok. Padma was so intelligent and sharp, so witty and astute in her observations of people, their mannerisms and why they did the things they did. She and Ashok had laughed themselves to tears at Padma's characterisations of Mr Singh, the cook and Ashok's school teacher. Padma had shown herself to be a survivor and an observer, and her skill in reading people and situations had been sufficiently keen to keep her and her little brother alive.
Kal thought of the way Alesha used to put her to bed as a little girl. Her mother hadn’t read fairy stories - she’d told real tales of children and people she’d met in other countries and other places, and how other people’s lives were filled with impossible dreams and ideas and sacrifices, just like theirs. She’d loved those stories.
Under the sheet, Kal found Padma's small hand and squeezed it and held on.
“I believe you, Padma, and I’m here to find out why someone would want to kill the matron. Can you help me?”
Padma nodded and without saying anything further, tossed off the sheet, sat up, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The metal of her artificial leg gleamed in the torch light as Padma pressed her feet, one flesh, one metallic, soundlessly on the matting and in one smooth motion, stood up. Then she put her finger against her lips and beckoned to Kal to follow.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Kal shivered in the warm night as pent-up emotion raced around her system. The chirruping of cicadas filled the air. A group of fireflies swarmed around a nearby bush, their bodies tiny dots of red and orange flashing in mad spirals. After checking no one was around, the two of them broke into a run, Kal following Padma. It felt good to be moving and she was pleased ScottBioTec didn’t have guard dogs.
She'd expected Padma to head for the hospital. Instead, the child took a route threading through the dormitories until they came out at the rear of the compound, in front of the office building. They paused in the shelter of the last dormitory, then Padma ran ahead, scooting around the corner of the office. As in the school, a row of windows ran along the side. They went to the furthest window, slid up a mosquito screen and climbed in.
A quick flash from Kal’s torch revealed they stood in a room stacked with cardboard cartons. The room reeked of cardboard too - this was a stationery storage room, full of school and office supplies packed in huge crates. Padma crossed to the door and opened it cautiously. It let out onto a dark corridor.
“This is it, this is as far as we can go,” Padma said.
For a moment, Kal wondered if Padma might be playing games.
“And?”
“And nothing. This is as far as we can go. Have a look at this.” Padma peered through the open doorway and pointed to the end of the corridor. “That door at the end is locked, don't you get it? There's a whole section to this building that we can't get into and I'll never be chosen because of my hair lip, but I've seen children picked to go in there and they never come out.”
Kal recalled the outside of the building. There were windows running along the side and they stopped halfway along. Padma was right. The rear section could contain three or four sizeable rooms with no outside access.
“What about the other side of the building, are there any entrances along it or windows?”
“It's exactly the same as this side with no openings at all, silly,” Padma said, “aren’t you listening? I've seen children go in there and they never come out. They disappear.”
There was no doubt Padma believed what she said and she tugged at Kal's arm.
“That's why as soon as Ashok's had his operation, we'll be getting away from here, you've got to believe me.”
“Padma, I believe you.” She just needed to find out what it meant.
Propping open the door to the store room, Kal stepped into the dark corridor. She put her hand against the door leading to the closed-in, rear section and ran her palm down the surface. It was cold, made of re-inforced steel, and firmly locked. She checked the surround. A metal frame. Somebody didn't want intruders.
Padma stuck to her like glue. As Kal crouched down to inspect the door, the girl whispered in Kal’s ear.
“There are so many children here. Some of us go for therapy, some of us go for surgery and after surgery we stay over at the hospital for months afterwards, then we go back regularly for the research programme. To and fro - children move around all the time and if you've no brother or sister then who would ask if someone goes missing? They'd just say they've been taken for surgery or physiotherapy or research examinations, or that they've run away, except it's not that.”
Right down at floor level, she spotted a splatter of marks on the door frame, like a spray of dark paint. She scratched at one of the marks and it flaked away. Kal crushed the flake backwards and forwards between her fingertips and then sniffed the residue. It had a distant tang of iron. Not paint. Dried blood.
Thunk! A door swung to. The noise came from close by. Padma snatched in her breath and grabbed Kal's arm. In one move, Kal picked up Padma and half-lifted, half-threw her inside the stationery store room, pulling the door shut. Someone came striding down the corridor, training a beam of light on Kal’s face. She raised her arms to protect her eyes.
“Hey!” a man's voice called out, “Who's there? Identify yourself.”
It was the voice of Mr Singh. Just as good as any guard dog.
“Mr Singh, it's Kavita, the new volunteer, we met this afternoon.”
“This area is strictly out of bounds. You've no business down here.”
“I couldn't sleep and I wondered if there might be a television in the office...”
“Your job is to assist the house mother. We have sterile areas, sensitive equipment, confidential records, you can't go wandering around anywhere you like.”
“Of course, it was silly of me, I’m sorry to disturb you.”
Mr Singh escorted her all the way back to her room. Once she'd heard him stalking off, Kal went to the children’s dormitory to check on Padma. She found the little girl safely in bed and she knelt down again on the matting.
“You were smart to come straight back here.”
“Be careful of Mr Singh, he's horrible,” Padma whispered.
Kal tucked the sheet around Padma's thin shoulders. “Don't worry. I'm not scared of people like him and when you're older, you won't be either.”
“There's something I forgot to tell you,” Padma said,” and it might be important.”
Now the child yawned and her words were blurry with sleep. “The children go missing when we have guests. Can you help?”
If anyone was Avalokiteshva
ra's servant, it was Padma. Kal looked at her with admiration and she gave the little girl a kiss on the forehead. “Yes Padma, and thank you, you’ve been very helpful. Goodnight and sweet dreams.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
As a new volunteer, Kal was to have her orientation. To start with, she reported to the office and the matron set her up in a side room to watch the same film that played at the Gala. After Padma fell asleep the previous night, Kal had located Mr Singh’s room, then she’d returned to the office and searched systematically through everything. She sat patiently through the film until the matron returned.
“Do you have any questions, Kavita?” the matron asked.
Today, the matron wore a dress patterned with small flowers, belted neatly at the waist. The woman’s demand for order was palpable - Kal watched as she pushed at a stack of papers until the edges aligned perfectly, then rearranged a line of pens on the desktop. Most likely the unconscious warnings nagging at the woman were causing her to tighten up on her desire for everything to be in its place. Now the matron readjusted the already centrally-positioned knot of her belt.
“No, I don't think so, though I'm curious about the research work.”
“You can ask questions over at the hospital.” The matron rubbed a palm across her forehead.
“Do you have a headache, matron? Can I get you something to help?”
“Oh dear, I wish there was something that could help, except there’s isn’t. I've taken painkillers although they won't do much good, you see, I'm prone to migraines and I can feel one coming on. I’d like to spend a couple of hours with you, though I’m sorry, today that won’t be possible. I must conserve my energy because we’ve our Founder planning a visit.”
Kal had discovered no mention of that the previous night. “You mean Dr Scott is coming here?”
“Yes, I received a call this morning and I’ve a mountain of preparation to make sure everything is exactly as he likes it.”
The matron gave her belt another little swivel of correction and then pressed her hand to her brow. “Dr Scott is due tomorrow evening and I simply will have to go and lie down for half an hour to try to fend this off.”
“If I can help with organising the visit, please let me know.”
“Thank you. Unfortunately, that won't be possible because Dr Scott will allow only myself and Mr Singh to be directly involved in the arrangements.”
“Gosh, that's very strict.”
“When you're the Founder, you can be as pedantic as you wish.”
The woman handed Kal a pass.
“This is for the hospital. Report there at four o’clock and they'll give you a tour. Now if you would excuse me, I must take a short rest. Please take a seat, the administrative assistant is running an errand and when she gets back, she’ll go through the paperwork with you, there are some details you still need to provide for us.”
“Yes, of course.”
Once the Matron left, Kal tried accessing the computer again and found the system still locked down. She rifled through the drawers of the desk and found a large envelope. Grabbing a pile of random papers, she stuffed them into the envelope and sealed it. When the assistant came through the door, she sprang to her feet.
“Thank goodness you’re back! There’s an emergency! Matron has a migraine and she’s gone to bed.” She waved the envelope under the assistant’s nose. “This is an urgent delivery. You’ve got to see to it straight away!”
The assistant was flustered. “Is it for the Founder’s visit?” her voice squeaked, “We’re never going to be ready in time!”
“It’s got to be delivered. No delay.” Kal plonked the envelope onto the assistant’s desk.
“Who’s it for?”
“The family of the old matron have requested important documents. Matron said they must have them this morning.”
The woman blanched. “That’s impossible. I have far too much to deal with here.”
Kal waited a few moments and then shrugged. “I don’t know the area but maybe I could help. Do they live nearby?”
“Oh not far at all. You could borrow my bicycle and I can draw you a map. Would you really? That would be wonderful.”
“Er, well, I’m not sure if-”
“Yes, yes, really that would be wonderful.”
The woman rushed to log herself onto the computer, pulled up the file of employee details and wrote an address onto the envelope.
“What was the old matron’s name?”
The assistant’s eyes had already gone watery and now she gave a reflex glance over her shoulder. “Don’t go saying it out loud. It’s not a good idea because everyone will get upset. Did the matron explain that she died? It was terrible. Her name was Indra Gupta.”
Kal nodded.
“Here’s a map, it’s easy to find and it’s about twenty minute’s cycle from here. You can’t get lost.”
At the doorway, Kal paused. “Matron gave me a quick tour only I think she left out the back of the building. What’s down there?”
“Oh, that’s Dr Scott’s private suite. It’s nothing to do with us and no one gets to go in except his personal assistant, Mr Singh.”
***
The family of Indra Gupta lived in a ramshackle neighbourhood with its own water supply and local school. The modest house had flaking, red-painted walls and several scrawny chickens ran in the yard. Kal leant her bicycle against the wall. A patch-it-together bell system hung from a tree over the gate. She pulled the dangling wire and the bell clanged. Though the door and windows of the house were open, no one came out.
“Hello! I’ve a delivery from ScottBioTec.”
Despite being small, very likely this was home to an extended family. It would house Indra and her husband and children if they had any, plus the husband’s parents, and maybe nephews and nieces or cousins depending on the good financial circumstances of the family. Here, the tradition was that the wife moved away from her own parents and came to live with her husband and her family -in-law.
Kal pushed open the gate. “Hello! I’ve a delivery from ScottBioTec.”
“If you’ve come to snoop you can get out. And if you’re a reporter you can get out too. “
A wrinkled, old woman had come to the front door and she now leant on the door frame. With white hair and skin the colour of dark earth, she wore a silk sari which by its faded look she most probably wore most days, keeping it on each morning when she took her daily bathe at the wash-stand, as was the custom here. Though she was smaller than Kal’s own grandmother, the woman reminded Kal of Nannie.
“If it’s my son you’ve come to pester, he isn’t here.”
Kal walked closer. “I’ve a delivery from ScottBioTec.”
“We have no business with that place. Now get out.”
The woman had a white cloudiness in one of her eyes, marking her as having an advanced cataract. The other eye was so dark it was almost black and it regarded Kal unblinkingly. Clearly the old woman was angry, and there was another emotion underneath the anger. Kal observed carefully and gauged the hidden feeling to be fear. For a moment, she felt guilty intruding, but she pushed on - being honest would be the best approach.
“I’m a new volunteer at the research institute. I was very sorry to hear about Indra. A little girl called Padma told me what happened and I had the impression Indra really cared for the children, and I wanted to offer my condolences.”
“Well now you’ve done that, you’d better go back.”
Kal paused. People who lived from day to day were savvy and this woman in front of her was no exception. She’d get nowhere by being evasive. “I know there’s no reason for you to trust me but I know there’s something strange going on and I want to help, and Padma told me she believed Indra’s death wasn’t suicide.”
At Kal’s words, the woman’s breathing rate picked up. The one dark eye regarded Kal for a moment, then the woman turned quickly to enter the house, jerking her head to tell Kal to follow.
&nb
sp; The interior had rush matting and a collection of furniture which, in wonderful Indian style, would’ve looked at home in a flea market back in London. Delicious scents of cooking drifted from a stove at the rear of the one principal room. The old woman indicated for Kal to sit on the threadbare settee.
“I was just making a cup of tea, would you like one?”
“That’s very kind, yes please.”
“You look very young.”
“Not exactly, I’m almost thirty.”
Behind the settee, the old woman pulled a kettle from the stove and took cups and saucers from an overhead cupboard.
“As I said, you look young. Well, I’m eighty-eight and I can see you’re no fool. There’s a depth in you, it’s in your face and in your eyes, and you have a lot of character, but if you’re really wise, you’ll turn round and head back where you came from. Don’t hang around ScottBioTec.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a nasty place. Even talking about it outside my own house is dangerous. The police have spies everywhere.”
“So you don’t think Indra took her own life?”
The old woman scoffed. “No one who knew her would think that. Though you’d never believe the bullying and threats my husband received from the police to push him into confessing to beating her. That’s why he’s moved away. For his own good.”
The cups rattled in their saucers as the woman carried them over to the settee. “No, no need to help. I can manage.”
The old woman set the tea on a low table and took her place in a rocking chair directly opposite Kal.
“So when are you going to tell me why you’re really here?” asked the old woman.
“Like I said, I know there’s something strange going on.”
“That isn’t what I meant.” The old woman took a sip of scalding tea, her one dark eye staring at Kal over the rim of the teacup.
A shiver ran down Kal’s back. Ever since she’d heard of Indra’s immolation, she couldn’t stop thinking about the woman’s agonising death and the charred body. Had the remains been verified? Indra and Alesha must have been a similar age. Two Indian women. Could there be any connection with her mother’s disappearance? Her mouth had gone dry.
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