It is with regret that I am unable to accept the finding of death by natural causes as established by the medical examination and subsequent deliberations, flawed, as it is, by inconsistencies. I believe my comrade to have been murdered by person or persons unknown.
Closely bound by ties of blood to my kinsman Zeman Khan, you will understand, Major Lindsay, that I am bound to avenge his death. If it were known who had killed Major Zeman Khan I would already have taken steps to avenge him. The British Army would then seek reprisals against me and my men and His Majesty the Amir would, in turn, become involved in an escalating spiral of bloody reprisal.
I believe you, Major Lindsay, to be, like me, a civilized man who would prefer to avoid senseless bloodshed and I offer you a solution to our problem. Firstly, the conclusion of the medical examination must be set aside and secondly, the identity of the person guilty of Major Zeman Khan’s death must be discovered. The guilty man must be charged and judged by you. You have lived and worked and fought with our people; you understand melmastia; you will understand that my kinsman was a guest in the fort and under your protection. The murderer is thus doubly guilty. He must be executed and by a firing squad of British soldiers before the gates of the fort a week from now, at noon on the 27th of April. Badal will accordingly be satisfied. The chain of vengeance will be broken with the death at British hands of the man responsible.
The Amir will be satisfied as will Zeman’s kin and they will not feel obliged to take further action. To ensure that you carry out the execution I have taken the precaution of removing one man from the fort as hostage. Lord Rathmore is accompanying us – unwillingly. He will be released to you when you have done your duty.
If you fail to do your duty Lord Rathmore’s life becomes forfeit and his body will be delivered to the fort shortly after noon next Friday.
Joe and James read this hideous document through to its conclusion without a word and, having done so, turned back to the beginning and independently read their way through it once more. It was Joe who finally broke the silence between them. ‘This,’ he said, ‘is absolute balls! Iskander’s gone barmy! Don’t you agree? Nobody in their right senses could act on this and he must be told so.’
James sank into a chair. ‘You can’t dismiss it just like that, you know, Joe.’
‘I can and I do. The only problem is – how the hell do we communicate with bloody Iskander? We can’t just send a man with a chit, can we? He – by which I mean they – are over there!’ With a wide gesture he pointed to the circle of empty hills. ‘Somewhere out there.’
‘Well, as far as communications are concerned,’ said James, ‘it’s not such a problem. We send someone out with a white flag and our reply. He puts it under a stone and plants the white flag next to it and in due course you may depend someone, and we don’t have to know who, picks it up. It’s not a problem.’
‘Problem! said Joe.’It’s one bloody problem after another. Now look here, James – Iskander talks of inconsistencies. What inconsistencies? Have you any idea? You’ve got, if not an official autopsy, at least a sincere opinion expressed by a highly qualified source – Grace. I’m not prepared to just say, “Oh, dear,” and forget it. And if, for some reason, we reject Grace’s findings, we confront a more serious problem – “Who killed Cock Robin?” And how did they kill Cock Robin? “I, said the Sparrow, with my bow and arrow.” How likely is it that we are going to have a helpful sparrow step forward and tell us he did it?’
‘The fact remains that if we reject the autopsy, an important citizen, Afghani subject, was done to death while in my care. Iskander is perfectly correct when he says that if this fact became generally known, a blood bath would ensue which would follow all of us to the grave and beyond. I couldn’t be responsible for letting that loose. No,’ James attempted a smile, ‘in the circumstances, this is a pretty generous offer Iskander is making us. The solution he suggests would, in fact, defuse a nasty situation. There must be a victim.’
‘A murderer found guilty?’ asked Joe.
‘Yes, of course. Just that.’
Joe looked at him in exasperation, ‘Perhaps you could tell me whom you have in mind?’
James was silent. ‘Just leave it to me, Joe,’ he finally said.
‘Not sure that I can, old mate,’ said Joe, unhappy and fearful. ‘As I see it, you have two alternatives: first – and this is probably what any other commander along the line would do – is to heave poor old Achmed into the firing line. Or Abdullah, whichever is the more dispensable. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was what Iskander himself were expecting. No? Didn’t think you would, so we’re left with the second. You have a perfectly able Scotland Yard detective right here at your elbow. Make use of me! You’re running me in blinkers, James! Give me your support to investigate this shambles properly and find out if it was murder and if so who is responsible. A week would be more than enough. I don’t boast but it’s what I do for a living.’
‘No, Joe. Neither of your schemes is acceptable. And I refuse to discuss it any further. There is a third option and this is the only one available to me. Please take my word on that.’
‘Third option?’ Joe asked warily. ‘What exactly do you have in mind, James?’
‘There will be a victim offered up for execution at noon next Friday,’ he said, unable to meet Joe’s eye. ‘It will be me.’
The two men contemplated each other. Joe, angry and puzzled, looked down at James, chill and haunted. ‘This,’ said Joe, ‘is madness time. I can’t for a second accept what you say and see no reason whatever to do so, for God’s sake! Do you realize what you’re doing? At the dramatic – I would even say hysterical – suggestion of Iskander Khan, you seem prepared to set all evidence that doesn’t suit him on one side!’
He looked both anxiously and affectionately at his friend. ‘I can’t understand you, James! This isn’t like you. Unless, of course,’ he added lightly, ‘you know something I don’t… ’ and he resumed, ‘What you should do is this – reply to Iskander Khan by whatever means recommends itself to you. A level and unflustered reply is what is called for. He speaks of “inconsistencies” – let him enumerate them. Say that if he’s not satisfied with the findings – as far as they’ve gone – the authorities here are quite ready to pick the matter up. You can mention my name if you like. We’ve been friends for years and you probably haven’t even noticed that I’m considered by some to be quite a star. Zeman had heard of me; Iskander may have heard of me. I’m sure that’s the proper way to play it. It wouldn’t be a good idea to ignore Iskander’s letter but it’s a bloody awful idea to accept this Boys Own Paper solution to the problem! See if you can get me some official status, James. Why not? Then I could deal with this as a proper police enquiry and we could, incidentally, drop the hint that as a preliminary to a measured police enquiry, we would expect the return of that damn fool Rathmore – and when you’ve got him in hand you can box his ears for having been so bloody inept as to get himself snatched! Be a man, James! You make me feel like Lady Macbeth! “Infirm of purpose, give me the dagger!” ’
‘Dagger? What dagger? Oh, yes,’ said James miserably. ‘But it’s probably no use trying to send him a message. If he’s gone off back over the border, he’s out of earshot, so to speak. It’s my guess he wants to avoid any parlaying. He’s shot his arrow and wants no riposte. He’ll sit up there in the mountains, out of our reach, and come down to witness the execution.’ He sighed. ‘He’s got us sewn up! But I suppose we ought first to go and check on Rathmore. Iskander didn’t write this letter in the middle of the night seconds before they set off. He wrote it – and this chills the blood, Joe – yesterday morning when he was closeted in the library for three hours. He’d had a talk with his men, they’d chosen their hostage, planned this action and they put it into smooth operation hours later. I wonder how the devil they managed to get him away?’