She was forced to step over the man’s body and shuddered a little. ‘Are you sure he’s alive?’
‘Unfortunately, quite alive. Come on—we can’t waste time on him.’ His voice had a new urgency.
He turned in the opposite direction from where the men had come. ‘Not that way. It will lead back to the servants’ staircase,’ he said in her ear, ‘and we don’t want to meet Manu or his fellows.’
He strode forward and she followed in his wake, though unsure where the narrow, flagged passageway would lead. The sparsest of lights had been drilled into the rock above and, by their dim illumination, she could see there were dozens of cells on either side. She wondered dazedly what the Rajah did with them all. Surely he didn’t have sufficient enemies to fill them, especially if he made a habit of killing his opponents. They walked on swiftly. Occasionally, the passage swooped around a corner, occasionally it changed direction, but they continued to follow where it led. And all the time she expected to hear footsteps in pursuit. If Grayson had been telling the truth and their jailor was still alive, he must have come round by now.
She wasn’t at all certain that Grayson had been telling the truth but she couldn’t let her mind wander in that direction. The floor of the passage was uneven and there was barely any light; she had to concentrate hard. Once or twice she stumbled on a raised flagstone and it was only Grayson’s solid figure ahead that prevented her from falling. He was setting a cracking pace and after what must have been at least a mile, a painful stitch began to throb in her side. She tried to forget it, and when the path turned an abrupt corner and began to slope upwards, she forgot it entirely. This was a good sign, she thought, this forgotten passage was winding its way upwards to the ground floor.
‘There’s another set of stairs ahead.’ He sounded exultant. ‘Look, they’ve been cut into the stone. They must be very old and no longer used. We’ll use them though.’
For the first time, she began to think they might escape. They were still a long way from freedom, but even a yard nearer was worth celebrating. She tried not to think what would happen if they were caught. They were within several feet of the ancient staircase when a noise sounded in their ears. It was coming from somewhere on their left, from the darkness that crouched in every corner. They stopped dead. Daisy felt herself petrified, turned into the stone that surrounded them. They were discovered. All the plans she had not even known her mind was making fell to pieces. She would never return to England, never have the chance to wipe clean the messy slate of her past, never live the life she should.
Grayson put his finger to his mouth, signalling they should stay silent. He crept towards the patch of deep darkness from where the noise seemed to emanate and she followed suit. The clamour grew louder. A chilling sound. A ghostly clanking and rattling. Then suddenly in front of them, swimming out of the darkness, was another cell, quite different from those they had passed. It was solitary and cut so far into the rock on which the palace stood that in the intense gloom you had to reach its very door before you knew it existed.
Grayson arrived at the cell an instant before she did. She heard his sharp intake of breath. Then she was there beside him. Facing Javinder Joshi.
CHAPTER 21
‘Javinder?’ Grayson peered through the gloom into the cell. ‘My God, Javinder!’
Daisy hardly recognised the young man. It was ten years since they’d last met, but he had aged far beyond that. His face was gaunt, his skin stretched so tightly over his cheekbones that it seemed at any moment they might rupture its surface. She saw his eyes were hazed with weariness and his hands red raw and dreadfully bruised from the iron handcuffs he wore.
His vision must have cleared then, because he ceased the furious tugging at his restraints and peered back at them. For a minute, it seemed he could hardly believe what he saw. Then he peered again. ‘Mr Harte?’ His voice was the crackling of ancient paper.
‘Yes, it’s me, old chap. How long have you been in this wretched hole?’
His erstwhile protégé shook his head. ‘A month, two months. I don’t know.’
‘It doesn’t matter. What matters is to get you out of here.’
Javinder shook his head again, his eyes travelling down to his feet. Daisy’s glance followed him. The young man’s ankles had been cuffed, too, and fixed by a chain to a large iron circle melded into the wall.
‘I’ve got keys. One of them is bound to fit.’ Grayson spread the bunch he’d stolen. ‘You’ll be free in an instant.’
That was optimistic. They had to endure several false starts before he found the key that unlocked the cell door and then a frantic scurry through the remainder to find the one that would free Javinder’s feet and hands. He tried one after another without success.
‘It’s got to be one of these,’ he muttered. ‘That thug was only carrying one set on his belt.’
Any minute now, she thought, that thug would be coming round from his induced faint, and here they were flipping through a bunch of keys over and over again. She wished she could emulate Grayson’s calm.
‘Give them to me,’ she demanded, unable to stand helplessly by a minute longer. He looked up in surprise but handed her the keys.
‘We’re in need of a feminine touch,’ she said, slipping past him and bending over the prone man.
‘I don’t see how,’ he began, when a loud click echoed through the empty space.
‘Just womanly finesse.’ But she had the grace to smile.
Javinder remained motionless as she released first his feet, then his hands. He was staring at her, staring through her. ‘Mrs Mortimer? Surely it cannot be you?’
‘I’m afraid it is, though I’m plain Miss Driscoll now. But please call me Daisy.’
‘Can we forget the introductions.’ Grayson’s voice was just this side of irascible. ‘We’re not at a tea dance, remember.’ He lunged forward and grabbed the prisoner’s arm, supporting him as Javinder clambered to his feet. The man rocked back and forth, his legs scrabbling to gain an uncertain purchase on the rough floor of the cell. ‘You’re going to have to try and walk, old man. We have to make a run for it.’
Javinder was hardly in running mode. Even in the intense gloom, she could see pain written across the poor man’s face. But he was still as brave as she remembered and after a few muffled yelps, he followed Grayson out of the cell and back into the passage.
Just in time. A scuffling and swearing came winging its way to them on the empty air. There was the sound of a tray hitting the wall and plates being smashed against it. It seemed their guard had recovered.
‘Quick, up these stairs.’ Grayson pushed the injured man onto the first step, then gestured to Daisy to go in front of him. He was planning to fight off any attack from the rear, she thought.
‘You found out what was going on then?’ Grayson asked, as they began the long climb. ‘I thought as much.’
Javinder paused to get back his breath. He was finding the stairway difficult. ‘I did find out—they call it the project—but then I was caught, so it did no good.’
‘On the contrary, it alerted headquarters that something very bad was up.’
‘And they sent you, Mr Harte?’ Javinder’s expression as he looked down the stairs at them was almost comic.
‘I’m sorry if you’d have preferred someone else, but it looks like you’re stuck with me.’
‘No, no, not at all.’ He was too serious a young man to appreciate Grayson’s kind of humour.
‘But what was the project?’ Daisy asked, as they resumed their climb.
‘Arson. And rape. And murder.’ Javinder’s voice shook a little as he recounted what he’d learned. ‘The Rajah intends to launch assaults all over Sikaner. He will set Hindus against Moslems, Moslems against Sikhs. He has recruited some evil men to do his bidding and he is paying them well.’
‘But we know there’s been violence before, so how is this different?’
‘There have been incidents, Miss Driscoll,’ Javi
nder admitted. ‘But so far they have been on a small scale. Almost as though someone was testing the ground. But the project is far, far bigger. It will create widespread chaos and much bloodshed. Houses will be set alight, women raped, children murdered. It is too terrible to contemplate.’
‘Did you find out who is behind it?’ Grayson asked. ‘The Rajah must be the prime mover, but the Suris?’
‘They are the middlemen. I think they will make sure they are not implicated in whatever happens.’
‘But they supply the money and the goods?’
‘Ramesh Suri sells the Rajah’s jewels for him. And antiques, precious tapestries, that sort of thing. He pays him in cash and asks no questions, but of course he takes a commission.’
‘No wonder he lives in luxury,’ Daisy put in.
‘Oh yes,’ Javinder said confidently, ‘Mr Suri is living high. At first I wasn’t sure he was involved. There were reports of trouble, but I didn’t know names. The Rajah, I suspected, of course. It’s well known that he hates Congress, and I knew that he’d tried to broker an agreement with neighbouring princes to declare independence together, and that it hadn’t worked out.’
‘That’s when he must have decided on the project,’ Grayson said.
‘It was hard for me to believe a respected ruler could encourage such dreadful deeds,’ Javinder went on. ‘But I found that he could. It took longer to uncover the Suris’ involvement and it didn’t do much good when I managed to. The Rajah found me out almost immediately.’
They had almost reached the top of the winding staircase when an enraged roar from below told them that Javinder’s escape had been discovered. Heads down, they sprang up the remaining stairs. Javinder was moving far better now, Daisy noted, and a real possibility that they might escape began to tantalise. When they reached the top step, though, it was to find a wooden door blocking their way. It had been cut into the rock and looked as though it had remained unopened for many years. Grayson edged past them and tried the catch. It stuck. He tried again without success and then put his shoulder to the wood with a thump. The noise made her cross her fingers painfully tight, hoping that no one was walking by on the other side. But his heave had worked and very cautiously he was able to push the door open an inch. He put his eye to the crack.
‘We’re on the ground floor, all right,’ he said. ‘But where in the palace, I haven’t a clue.’
Which meant, Daisy thought, that they had no idea of where their exit might lie. They would have to search for a way out and risk detection in doing so. And, if they managed to reach the outside, what then? The spirits that had recently kept her buoyed sank from sight. They had no transport. Their jeep had a fuel leak and, in any case, had almost certainly been impounded. And, if they made it into the town on foot, who would help them? The townspeople must either be in the pocket of the Rajah or deadly afraid of him. There would be no aid from that quarter.
Grayson pushed the door fully open and slipped through, beckoning them to follow. They found themselves standing in one of the marble-floored open squares that dotted the palace, and from which a labyrinth of corridors and rooms radiated outwards.
‘Any ideas?’ he asked. A window filled most of the wall to the right of them and he walked across to it.
He gazed down on a section of the ornamental planting, his brow creased. ‘Judging from what I can see of the garden, I think we must be somewhere in the middle of the palace.’
Whichever way they walked, she thought, they faced danger. There was no easy way out. As they stood there undecided, a low hum swooped over them. Voices. She clasped Grayson by the arm.
‘We should hide.’
‘No, we shouldn’t.’ His face was alert. ‘The voices will help us find our way. I’m guessing they must be coming from one of the main reception rooms, the audience chamber if I’m not mistaken. The one we were taken to yesterday. If we find that, we’ll find the way out.’
Every one of her nerve endings was telling her to hide, but she had to concede that Grayson was right. Yesterday, they’d walked along several very long corridors to reach the audience chamber. If they could get back to the room, they could get back to those corridors which would lead them directly to the front entrance. It was a bold plan, fraught with danger, but she didn’t have a better one. She crept silently alongside her companions until the voices became loud enough to distinguish individual words. The men were speaking in Hindi and she didn’t understand.
‘They are discussing how best to deal with us,’ Grayson said. ‘One or two are arguing that once the project begins, we should be released. But others aren’t quite so happy. It’s a close-run thing. Javinder, do you know if the Suris supply this madman with his weapons?’
‘They do, Mr Harte. The Rajah has a ready supply of knives and swords. But Suri purchases guns for him—at a distance. He stays in Jasirapur, far enough away to avoid suspicion. He is very careful about that. But I never discovered just how he organises the shipments or how the weapons get here. I was apprehended before I could.’
‘You found out enough to be a great danger to them.’
‘I found out the date they intend to strike. The twenty-fifth of April. That was it. That is when the killing will begin.’
‘The twenty-fifth begins at midnight. And I’m pretty sure Verghese won’t be late. We’re going to have to move fast.’
‘They will never let us live,’ Daisy said, her voice dull with foreboding. ‘We know far too much.’
‘Then we’d better take leave of them right now, don’t you think? The first corridor we want has to be around the next corner. It should lead us to the front entrance.’
‘And when we get there, how are we to get past the servants?’ she asked. ‘Yesterday there were at least two of them guarding the door.’
‘The same way as we got out of the cell. By distraction. Whatever happens, Javinder, one of us must reach the town. There are two courtyards you have to pass through – one is little more than a set of gates – before you get clear of the palace grounds. There may be ways around them both but if you have to cross them, you’ll need to be clever. Choose your moment well. If you get through undetected, commandeer a vehicle, any kind of vehicle, and drive to a telephone. Make sure it’s well out of town. Here—’ and he fished a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. ‘This is the number you must ring. I know it by heart. It will get you through to the nearest army unit. They won’t be surprised to hear from you—I put them on alert before I left Jasirapur. You’ll need to use the code name—Rohira. It will ensure they’ll mobilise immediately.’
Javinder’s face brightened at the prospect.
‘We have to get out of the palace first,’ Daisy reminded them. It seemed to her that both men were in danger of being carried away by the sheer excitement of the adventure.
‘You’re right. Let’s go. I don’t need to remind you both to walk as silently as you can.’
Very slowly and very quietly, they crept along the corridor. There was not a sound except for the soft hush of their breathing and, in the distance, the same hum of voices. The passage they were in was a minor one, but when they turned the corner, they would be in one of the long corridors that ran from the front of the palace to the rear. The audience room, she thought, had been bang in the middle. They would be in the thick of things and servants were likely to appear at any moment. It was an almost impossible hope they could reach the huge, wooden door through which they’d walked twenty-four hours ago, unmolested.
They turned the fateful corner and waited, peering down the long red silk carpet which led to freedom. The audience room was on their right and its door was slightly ajar. The voices were much louder now and Daisy let the stream of Hindi flow over her. Then words that were clear and distinct and spoken in English.
‘You must let them go the day after tomorrow.’
She was startled and looked towards Grayson. His expression was masklike and he made no response except to edge closer to the open door
. But the voices had become muted once more and she doubted he could hear very much. The men must have moved to the far end of the room and were again speaking in a language she didn’t understand.
Grayson turned to them both. ‘I want you to walk as fast as you can to the front entrance,’ he said softly. ‘When you get there, take cover and watch for the moment when there’s only one servant around. Then throw this,’ and he handed Javinder a small chunk of rock he must have collected from their cell. She didn’t like to think what use he’d imagined putting it to. ‘When the man goes to investigate,’ he continued, ‘slip through the door and run. Keep to the parkland, definitely keep off the road. It may be easier than we think to get round the guards by sticking to the park. I’ll follow you when I can. And, Javinder, remember the code.’
‘Yes, of course, Mr Harte, but—’
‘—but why aren’t you coming?’ she finished for him. She was gripped with fear.
‘There’s something I need to sort out first.’
She knew what it was and her heart turned over. ‘You’re deliberately walking back into danger. Please come with us.’
‘I can’t,’ he said firmly, ‘I haven’t a choice.’
Grayson’s plan worked better than she could have hoped. The walk along that endless red carpet was terrifying and she literally held her breath with every step. But their luck appeared to have turned and they met no one. When they got within a few yards of the front entrance, they hid themselves securely behind a marble pillar and, for some minutes, watched the comings and goings. Two servants were arranging a vast quantity of flowers, sharing them between several oversized ceramic vases. She recognised the men from yesterday. A third man, dressed in working overalls, rushed back and forth with armfuls of blooms. He seemed to be one of the garden staff and, as soon as he’d finished delivering his flowers, he was despatched smartly back to his domain. One of the house servants said something to his companion.
‘He’s gone to fetch more water for the vases,’ Javinder said in her ear. ‘This could be our chance.’ The rock was in his hand, she noticed.
Daisy's Long Road Home Page 24
