Banquet on the Dead Read Online Free PDF

in, tentatively moving in the direction in which Karuna disappeared. But a voice from the adjoining room, heavy and unsteady, stopped them.
    ‘Come in,’ the voice said.

4

    T HE SMELL OF BURNING TOBACCO welcomed them through the open teak door into the room. Inspector Nagarajan saw two ashtrays filled to the brim with cigarette butts; one on the floor at one edge of the bed, and one by the armchair that sat next to it. The walls were littered with dark spots, and stray cigarette butts were strewn on the floor. Two of them, he noticed, had not yet been extinguished.
    A third, solid red spot glowed at them from the dark corner, from within the armchair. The body that occupied it swayed and shook constantly. A neatly trimmed beard, a crew cut, and hands that groped and groped and groped...
    ‘Come,’ the man said heavily. ‘Come in. The servant— didn’t come today.’ His speech was punctuated by intervals where he gasped for breath. His legs lay limp to one side as he waved them inside. ‘Come,’ he urged them. ‘I don’t like the air outside. Close the door. Close the door.’ He heaved himself upward in the chair so that he could flick on the light switch. ‘Ah, that’s better.’
    His was a slight but healthy body. There was an occasional trace of grey in his hair, but his beard was immaculately black. His lips played with the half-burnt cigarette, and the tip glowed to life every time he drew a breath. But for the limp, lifeless legs and the shaking hands, he looked in perfect health.
    ‘Has she told you about us?’ he asked.
    Hamid Pasha, who had been closely examining the dark spots on the wall, turned around to face the speaker and said, ‘She has not told us much, the memsaab. She had to be somewhere. Why, miyan? Do you have something to tell us about her?’
    ‘Hah! The whole family will have something to tell you about her.’ His chest heaved up and down; he dropped some ash on the floor. ‘She’s a money-grabber, that one.’
    ‘Indeed?’
    ‘Listen, why don’t you sit down? Do you...?’ He held out a half-drawn packet of cigarettes, shaking.
    Hamid Pasha’s eyes lit up at the sight. ‘Oh, sure, miyan. Just one.’ He sat down and motioned for a lighter.
    The man in the armchair leant forward, with great effort, to offer him a light. Nagarajan sat watching them both, tightlipped, waiting for the ritual to be finished so that they could continue. He cleared his throat presently and said, ‘You’re Raja, right?’
    The man nodded. ‘Yes, the lame one, they call me.’ He settled back and coughed. ‘Yes, what was I telling you? Yes, Karuna, she is a money-grabber. There are no two ways about it, I tell you. If it was up to me, I’d say she is the one who killed my mother.’
    ‘Is that so, miyan? So the old woman has left some money to her?’
    ‘Oh, hell, there’s a lot of money to go around. And my mother has always had a soft spot for her daughter. Ever since the doctor died, you know.’
    ‘Doctor—?’
    ‘Not Kotesh, he is the younger doctor in the family. There was another doctor, Prameela’s husband. Dasaratha Rama Rao. You must have heard of him, surely.’
    Hamid Pasha shook his head.
    ‘No? Well, he was one of those people who didn’t earn anything of note and yet made a lot of name for themselves. You know?’
    Nagarajan said in a low voice, ‘You were saying Kauveramma left some money to Karuna?’
    ‘I am sure she did,’ said Raja. ‘I would give the will a nice, thorough combing if I were you.’
    Hamid Pasha leant forward and said in a delicate voice, ‘Miyan, surely if money were the sole consideration here, would you and your brothers not be bigger suspects than the memsaab?’
    ‘Hah!’ Raja said. ‘Hah!’
    ‘Hey? What do you mean by “hah!”?
    ‘We would, we would, sir, if only we had any manliness in us. Karuna must have told you how useless we all were in anything and everything.’
    ‘So you agree with her?’
    Raja blew rings of smoke into