by Rumer Godden
‘To begin with the god is carved in wax, hard, yellowish in colour, the texts say, beautiful to behold, because it is now that the master shows his greatest skill as each line, each expression will eventually be reproduced exactly, and it has to be in proportion with the things the god carries, such as a sword, a drum or vina, maybe a reptile, all attributes given by the ancient scripts. The carving takes a long time. When it’s finished it’s given a light coating of clay, carefully mixed with charred husks, tiny bits of cotton and salt, all ground by hand on a stone until they are powder. Then the god is left to dry in the shade. This coating of clay is done three times, at intervals of two days, and each time it is heavier.
‘Long tubes with a flared mouth resembling the kusa flower are added through the wax on the back, the shoulders, on the nape of the neck and crown of the head and have to be kept open, not blocked by the clay.
‘The weight of the finished image has been decided by the weight of the finished wax figure, eight times heavier for bronze, twelve for silver, sixteen for gold. This Shiva is bronze. On the chosen day when the clay mould is hard enough, it is put in an earthenware crucible to withstand great heat and set in a fire. The wax melts and runs out. Meanwhile the metal has been heated until it is liquid. Then, holding its container with a pair of tongs, the artist pours the liquid quickly into the mouths of the tubes until they are filled to the brim. The figure now has to cool. Then the master breaks off the clay mould bit by bit. When the whole is revealed he will know if he has succeeded, and if he can cut away the mouths of the tubes making them level and give his god or goddess its finishing touches.
‘The text ends,’ said Artemis, ‘with a royal instruction. On an auspicious day the King should install it where it can be worshipped every day with offerings, flowers and a light, which our Shiva is,’ said Artemis.
‘But, Artemis,’ said Eric Barclay, ‘isn’t that Shiva the one which was stolen? The trial is coming up in London. It’s made such a sensation.’
‘Yes.’
‘Then what is this one?’
How, wondered Michael, with her deep regard for Auntie Sanni and her own wishes, would Artemis field that?
‘This is the one that was not stolen,’ she said, and went on too quickly for Eric to say anything more. ‘You have listened so politely to me that we’ll change the subject and Ellen will show you a film I had made last year of the Ghandara hills’ cave paintings.’
‘Professor Ellen has a headache,’ Sir John whispered to her.
‘All the same, she’ll have to do it. I’ve had enough,’ Artemis whispered back, and went on, ‘We had only a small unit, the cameraman and one soundman, but it came out quite well. You’ll see. We’re going to the caves tomorrow.’
When the film ended and the audience came out, it was plain they were not only interested but exuberant. There were congratulations, tumultuous questions, drinks, talk, laughter.
‘I’ve already learned so much I can’t take it all in,’ confessed Duke. ‘I’ll have to come back.’
‘I’ve learned so much I shall never forget,’ said Madame Duvivier. But Michael was in no humour for any of it. His mind was seething with problems as he went further up the veranda, past Auntie Sanni, and leaned on the rail hoping to become part of the calm of the garden until he felt someone beside him. Artemis. She was so close they were almost touching, but as he turned to her, she drew away. She was angry.
‘Michael,’ she said, ‘when we came back I didn’t want to rest. Konak always has that effect on me, it’s too exciting, so I went into the village to see some of my friends. I have been coming here for a long time. Patna Hall and the village have been very useful to me – they are why I learned Telegu. Of course I went to Veeranna – he’s a very special friend – but as soon as he saw me he burst into tears. He says you tricked him into telling you he made the new Shiva.’
‘I didn’t trick him. When I saw him with Inspector Dutta I guessed. This morning I asked him outright and he admitted it – with delight, Artemis.’
‘Then he was lying.’
‘I don’t think Veeranna lies.’
But Artemis argued, ‘How could he have made it? He hasn’t any tools. You didn’t use your senses, Michael.’
‘You’re right. I’m supposed to be a barrister and at this stage barristers are never allowed to cross-examine witnesses – that’s a solicitor’s job, and here I am behaving like a solicitor. What’s come over me? It’s as if I’m under a spell. You all tell me that Veeranna couldn’t have made the Shiva, but I know he did. I know, too, he won’t tell me how or why.’
‘No. He won’t ever.’
‘But I have a nasty feeling that Chief Inspector Dutta and his crew have ways of making him.’
She looked at him in horror. ‘Must you tell Inspector Dutta?’
‘Artemis, I have a professional duty.’
‘Prig.’
‘That’s not fair.’
She came closer. ‘Michael, please don’t tell the police – for Veeranna’s sake. He’s such an innocent, and didn’t dream he was doing anything wrong. Just for once, Michael,’ and she gave him a kiss, light as a butterfly’s wing on his cheek. ‘Promise.’
‘I can’t,’ said Michael. ‘I must tell the Inspector as soon as I see him.’
‘Then I hate you,’ flashed Artemis, and left him.
The group had to leave Patna Hall at seven to get to the caves.
‘We’ll get up at five and walk,’ said Duke.
‘If I were you I don’t think I would,’ said Artemis. ‘It’s sixteen miles. The coach will take us as far as it can, which is twelve miles, then there are four miles of steep rough walking. There will be ponies for those who would rather ride.’
‘Perhaps it would be better if I don’t come,’ said one of the older members. ‘After all, we saw the beautiful film last night – but I hope you don’t think I’m a coward.’
‘I wouldn’t think of coming.’ That was Mrs Moaner who, for some reason, had got up. ‘Not after yesterday. I don’t want to see any more of this horrible Indian art. Filthy. Sex crazy. I felt sick, and they call them gods. I was too ashamed to look at them.’
‘Then you didn’t see them,’ said Madame Duvivier.
‘The cave paintings are of animals, not humans,’ Artemis interposed quickly.
‘Animals might be worse. Oh dear.’ Mrs Moaner was ready to weep. ‘We never seem to do anything nice.’
‘Wait for tonight,’ said Artemis. ‘Professor Ellen will make an announcement at lunch. There’s an invitation I think you will like.’ She could have added, ‘I hope,’ but not very hopefully, and returned to the cave paintings. ‘Those ancient masters were marvellously gifted. They could draw and paint so that the creatures seem to breathe and live.’
‘On rough walls?’ Mrs Moaner sniffed in derision.
‘That is the wonder, and they had no choice. Remember, there were no canvases then, no paper, indeed no houses. Besides, the paintings were of the utmost importance. To those cave dwellers, animals were far more important than humans because they lived by their hunting, and the people in their innocence believed that if they could catch the likeness on their walls of those birds, wild oxen, bison, wolves, even tigers, they would catch them in reality.’
‘Judging by the film, they have been caught,’ said Madame Duvivier.
Marcia Barclay enthused, ‘Artemis, you make everything so interesting. Will you go through it again?’
‘I think Professor Ellen will. I have to go and see a little temple I’ve heard of higher in the hills.’
‘I wish she wouldn’t,’ Professor Ellen said to Michael, who had got up early to see them off – and also because this was the time when the gardeners came in to decorate the shrine. ‘Michael, it isn’t safe for a girl to go alone into the hills. I wish you’d speak to her. She might listen to you.’
‘Artemis and I are not very good friends just now but I’ll try.’
He managed to catch her ju
st as she was leaving for the coach. ‘I hear that when you get to the caves you’re going off on your own.’
‘What business is it of yours?’ She was still hostile.
‘It’s the business of anyone who cares about you.’
She looked up into his face. ‘Michael, I think you do care.’
‘Haven’t I shown it from the first moment?’
She relented. ‘Well, don’t worry. I don’t go alone. I go with a friend and his servant.’
After breakfast Michael went to find Auntie Sanni, who was in her office. ‘May I have your permission to ask all your staff a few questions?’
‘Inspector Dutta did that the day before yesterday without asking.’
‘Inspector Dutta and I have different ways. I’d like to see them one by one, but it will have to be through Moses. May I?’
‘Do you really need to?’
‘I mustn’t leave any stone unturned.’
‘These are people not stones.’
‘I’ll be very gentle, Auntie Sanni.’
Michael saw the gardeners first and had Moses ask each one the same question. ‘You come every morning to bring fresh flowers for the god. Are you sure you never noticed that he was not the same?’
The answers varied.
‘No.’
‘He always there. How could we think he not the same?’
‘I not look at him very much.’
‘I busy with the flowers.’
But they all added up to ‘No.’
The Muslim table waiters, Abdul and Karim, both wearing off-duty clothes, were unhelpful, even scornful.
‘He Hindu god,’ said Karim. ‘I never look.’
‘I not want to look,’ said Abdul.
The Nepali houseboys, Kancha and Jetta, seemed always on duty, yet cheerful, but they said, ‘Shiva statue. We not even dust it. Hannah not allow us. How can we know?’
Colonel McIndoe’s valet, a servant with a position below Samuel and Hannah’s but above the other servants, was contemptuous. ‘It great fuss. How can Hindu god be so important? As for me, I never go into drawing room unless there is reception or ceremony when I go in charge of drinks and I far, far too busy to look.’
The sweeper women were more observant, chanting hymns to him as they bumped along the floor with their bottles – but they were too many to interrogate separately. ‘Of course he our Shiva, always is, always same,’ they all agreed.
‘That’s a morning wasted,’ said Michael, downcast.
‘Try Kanu,’ said Hannah. ‘He say anything for money.’
Michael thought she was mocking him.
He did not have to go to Kanu. Kanu came to him. ‘Sahib Michael. How much will you give me if I tell you what I tell Mr Cromartie in London?’
‘Nothing,’ said Michael. ‘I happen to know what you told Mr Cromartie.’
Kanu’s mouth fell open in dismay and puzzlement. ‘How you know?’
‘My business,’ said Michael, ‘but I’ll buy you a drink if you’ll tell me that what you told him in London is true. Don’t forget, I’m investigating. Gin and tonic?’
‘Samuel, he skin me.’
‘Not if I give it to you.’
‘You so nice, Michael, but you not know Samuel. He not let me drink one glass. I not stay here. Michael, I going to be barman at Uberoi hotel, Mr Cromartie he say so. He pay me very well. You know why?’ Kanu came closer. ‘Not only information, I think, but because I am so very pretty.’
Pretty? thought Michael. Yes, if you like that sort of thing.
‘Long, long ago when I was small boy I got into trouble here – trouble that for me fine but Hannah make it bad and ever since,’ he took a gulp of gin, ‘no one trust me. Ten o’clock, I must go home – my people live in the village. If I late my father come to fetch me. But, Michael, I not little boy now. I grown up, Michael, for little money if you want?’
‘Kanu, I am not Mr Cromartie.’
Kanu grew spiteful. ‘You wrong. I not only pretty. Kanu know who took the Shiva and why.’
‘You know why?’
‘Yes. Kanu put two and two together.’ He was getting excited. ‘The Colonel, Auntie Sanni, they get old. My father and mother think Samuel and Hannah like gods, everything good, but Hannah, she there when Professor Ellen took first Shiva figure down for lecture and Hannah she hear what Professor tell Auntie Sanni how much it was valuable – millions of rupees,’ said Kanu, his eyes wide. ‘Hannah, she tell Samuel.’
‘So you think …?’
Kanu put his finger one side of his nose and winked in glee. ‘Aha! Now you listen. Auntie Sanni, she old, soon die. Without Auntie Sanni, Patna Hall die too, or else so few people coming, Patna Hall close. What Samuel and Hannah do then? They also old, too old to get other job. What they do then?’
‘I’m sure the Colonel would look after them.’
‘Maybe, maybe not, and maybe Samuel and Hannah want – how do you say? Nest …?’
‘Nest egg.’ Michael put down his glass.
‘Where you going?’
‘To ask them.’
‘Ask!’ Kanu was startled. ‘I think better you tell Police Inspector Dutta.’
‘I don’t think Inspector Dutta will be interested.’
‘Then you don’t believe me.’
‘I believe you are a nasty little liar,’ but Kanu did not know the meaning of the word nasty.
Michael found Samuel in the pantry behind the dining room having a tumbler of tea before starting to get ready for luncheon. He was in a loose shirt, his impressive turban laid aside, but as soon as he saw Michael he stood up, set down the tumbler and put it on.
‘Samuel, have your tea. I only want a few words with you.’ Michael sat on a stool.
Reluctantly Samuel sat too. ‘Tea for you, Sahib?’
‘No, thank you. I had a drink with Kanu. If that was wrong it’s my fault, not his.’
‘Not easy boy. Hannah and I, we fear for him. His father and mother most nice people.’
‘Miss Sanni will help him. Samuel, may I talk to you a little about Patna Hall?’
Samuel was relieved. ‘Ah, the hotel. If I can help you …’
‘You can if you will. I know it had a great heyday.’
‘Heyday, Sahib?’
‘A time of great success. What has changed it?’
‘Patna Hall not changed, not one i-o-ta.’ Samuel was proud he knew that word. ‘Not us. It is visitors. They want quick, quick, quick, airflight everywhere, they not stay. Business people, schedule. Tourist hurry, get so many things in one package. Patna Hall not like that at all so not many people come.’ Samuel spread his hands helplessly. ‘And we getting old, Sahib.’
‘Yes,’ and Michael said gently, ‘Miss Sanni and Colonel McIndoe too.’ Then, he quoted Kanu. ‘If they close Patna Hall, I think you and Hannah are too old to get other work.’
‘Other work? Never, never. They look after us.’
‘If the hotel is losing money, they may be too poor.’
‘If they poor, we poor. We be proud to share. Hannah, me and Thambi.’
Michael could only say, ‘I beg your pardon, Samuel.’
‘Sahib ask pardon of me!’ The old man was plainly gratified. ‘Sahib—’ He stopped as if some thought had suddenly struck him. ‘Michael Sahib, you London lawyer, very clever. The Nataraja, is it of so great value as they say?’
‘The experts think so. They valued it at more than two hundred and fifty thousand pounds.’
‘Ah!’ Samuel shuddered, and Michael seized what he was sure was an opportunity.
‘May I ask you a question myself? You needn’t answer if you don’t want to.’
‘Ask, Sahib,’ but Samuel was bowed down in distress.
‘You seem so unhappy and worried,’ and Michael dared to go on, ‘Is it because you and Hannah believe that what Kanu says is true?’
There was a silence. Then, ‘Yes,’ said Samuel, and he seemed to brace himself and stood up. ‘All these days Hannah and
I, Thambi too, not tell you because we so frightened for Miss Sanni. Yes, we not saying anything, anything at all. We so much afraid. The one who took the Shiva for to sell it was Miss Sanni. Of course, Colonel Sahib help her. Michael Sahib, she only do it to save Patna Hall, but now … oh, what happen to Miss Sanni? Now there is Inspector Dutta, London lawyers, our government. What happen to her?’
‘It couldn’t have been Miss Sanni.’
‘Couldn’t? I tell you, Sahib …’
‘I know, but you are wrong.’
‘How?’
‘For the best of reasons. Because she is Miss Sanni. She would never have sold the Shiva, not even for Patna Hall. Miss Sanni believes in reverence for everyone else’s gods, and her own – that before anything else.’
‘Then who?’ said Samuel uncertainly.
‘We don’t know, but not Miss Sanni.’
Light broke on Samuel’s face. He got up and rushed through the dining room. ‘Hannah! Hannah!’
She came quickly. ‘Michael Sahib know,’ Samuel told her. ‘He so much more clever than us. He say Miss Sanni she never never sell the Shiva.’ And he repeated what Michael had said.
As she listened the same light came on Hannah’s face, tears too. ‘Samuel, Michael Sahib right. He completely right. Me, I know it now. I know it in my bones, but we in so much fright. Not thinking properly. God bless you, Michael Sahib. God bless you.’
Michael felt he must try to clear his head so he went down to the beach for a swim – and did not swim.
Back from the caves, some of the young were there too, ready to go into the sea when Moses and his fishermen could take them. Thambi was up on the diving board with Artemis.
Although most of the day had been wasted, Michael, now susceptible, had this unaccustomed happiness in his heart and he stood to watch her, her body wet and ready poised, until there came another spectacular dive far over the others in the water who clapped. But Michael did not want to be drawn into chat just now, not even with Artemis, and he went back to the house.
