Barbara Cleverly Read Online Free PDF Page B

stepped thankfully into the bath which was neither hot nor cold and washed away his sticky night and his no less sticky walk. Breakfast appeared at astonishing speed and, assuming that someone would tidy his room, empty his bath, empty the large top hat-like contrivance in the corner which did duty for a closet, he decided it was not too early to embark on his course of obligatory calling.
    He thought that the Police Superintendent should come first followed by the doctor, the Collector and, not least, the CO of the Bengal Greys who, by a small note on his table, had elected him an honorary member of their mess. A second note from the Panikhat Club told him he had been elected a member (‘for the duration of your stay’) of the Club. In both of these he detected the hand of Nancy Drummond.
    Armoured against the growing heat by a standard issue British army pith helmet that some thoughtful soul had left in his bungalow, he set off to walk to the office of the Police Superintendent.
    The Police Superintendent was cold, the Police Superintendent was resentful and far from pleased to see him. He was pleased enough not to have to deal with what he clearly believed to be a nonsensical mare’s nest uncovered — as he put it — ‘by the women’, though relieved to find, after a quick look at the medal ribbons on Joe’s chest, that he was dealing with, if not a soldier, at least someone who had been a soldier.
    He looked Joe over, his sharp blue eyes cold and suspicious. ‘Don’t know what on earth you’ll make of this, Sandilands! And please don’t think it was any idea of mine to waste your time with it!’ he began almost without preamble. ‘Don’t want to pre-empt anything you may find out for yourself but, in my opinion, this is a lot of nonsense and even if it wasn’t a lot of nonsense, we’re looking at a cold trail. A very cold trail. If there’s the slightest thing I can do to help — though I can’t imagine what — let me know. For a start, we’re chronically shorthanded here. The Governor blandly suggests I put an officer at your disposal. Easy for him! I’ve assigned a police havildar to you. Naurung Singh. His English is quite good, you’ll find, if you don’t rush him. He served for a year as interpreter to a British unit and — well —’ he gave a chilly smile, ‘we haven’t got anybody else. He’s very ambitious and I wouldn’t recommend you believe everything he tells you. Tries hard to please, if you understand what I’m saying. I’ll call him in in a minute but in the meantime — where do you want to begin?’
    Without giving Joe a chance to reply he went on, ‘Rather expect you’ll want to begin with the Somersham bungalow.’ He threw a key on to the table between them. ‘Take Naurung with you — he’ll show you around. Not that there’s much to see. It had pretty much been trampled over by the time I got there. I was out myself in the native town when it happened
    ’ He cleared his throat and stirred uncomfortably.
    Joe waited in silence for him to carry on.
    ‘Bit of petty thieving going on. In the bazaar. By the time I got word of the unfortunate occurrence the world and his wife and his bearer had traipsed through. At least three people had handled the razor
    Somersham himself was covered in blood, the whole household scurrying about yelling and in the middle of it all Mrs Drummond, cool as you like, taking photographs!’
    ‘Exactly how much cleaning was done?’ asked Joe.
    ‘Hot country, India,’ said Bulstrode, ‘as I’m sure I don’t need to remind you. No refrigerated units here for storing
    er
    cadavers. And you can’t just let blood lie indefinitely. To cut it short — I had to order the cleaning of every surface that had blood on it. Apart from that everything’s as I found it when I entered.’
    Joe’s heart sank. A cold trail and a clean one. Deliberately cleaned? Nancy’s suspicions were beginning to chip at his objectivity.
    ‘I suggest you have a look at these,’ said Bulstrode, depositing a wad of