He imagined the pressure on Grace as she had performed her autopsy with a Scotland Yard detective present and all too literally sticking his nose in. Her sangfroid was amazing and, surely, could only, in a woman of such high principles, stem from a perfectly clear conscience? He decided to take advantage of their present circumstances to put further pressure on her. Out here she could not evade his questioning.
‘There’s a lot riding on this expedition,’ Grace was saying. ‘I don’t put these things in any order of priority but we have to extricate that damn fool Rathmore and we have to winkle out Lily.’
‘How easy you make it sound,’ said Joe, ‘but have you paused to consider that, whereas Rathmore undoubtedly was kidnapped, Lily may well have gone off with Iskander of her own accord? Lord knows why! A yearning for adventure? Spoilt little madam whose head’s been turned by too many moving pictures? An admirer of Rudolph Valentino perhaps? Perhaps she’s simply inherited her father’s enterprising spirit? I gather Coblenz senior is a financial pirate of the first water who, in his time, has gobbled up half the resources of the West.’
‘And perhaps his daughter is now making a play for the East?’ said Grace. ‘No. She has her faults but treachery and stupidity are not among them. She’s clever and, I do believe, good-hearted. No. I’m sure she was forced or tricked in some way into going with them. If she went at all willingly – and this I don’t believe – it would be on account of her feelings for Iskander.’
Joe reined in his horse in surprise. ‘Feelings for Iskander? Grace, what are you saying? Lily was flirting with both young men and – goodness! – one sees why! But, if anything, she showed more interest in Zeman!’ Joe carefully kept back the revelation that Lily had attempted to meet him in the garden. Once again he had the strong impression that he was fencing with Grace, always feinting and falling back, hoping to lure her into making a false step.
‘Oh, Joe! You don’t know much about girls, do you? Look – girls of Lily’s age regularly take an indirect route to claim the attention of the one they’re really interested in. This is why “best friends” are so useful! By scintillating – I think Lily would call it “sparking” – with Zeman she was actually showing herself off to Iskander who was always there, as I’m sure you noticed, a ready audience.’
‘But he appeared to take little notice of her.’
Grace sighed. “That’s part of the game, the ritual. Look, Joe, I’m rather a prosaic old countrywoman at heart but even I couldn’t help catching the ripples, the backwash, from some of their encounters. Disturbing. Very disturbing.’
‘But they only set eyes on each other four days ago! Nothing of any serious emotional significance could have occurred in that short time?’
Grace was laughing at him. ‘Joe, when you meet the right girl, I know what you’ll say to her – after a decent interval of course – “I say, old thing, I’m afraid something of serious emotional significance appears to have occurred!” You were standing right next to Lily when it happened, as was I, as were eight other people. They looked at each other and that was that. Instant recognition. It happens. The French call it a “coup de foudre”. A thunderbolt.’
‘Grace, you’re a scientist, a doctor, you surely don’t believe such things happen?’
‘I know they happen!’ she said sharply. ‘I wasn’t always fat, forlorn and forty-five, you know!’ she added quietly.
Joe was embarrassed for a moment. ‘Ah!’ he said. ‘A coup de Grace?’
‘Bad joke, Joe!’
Joe fell silent. He was again being led, gently and with humour, down a path he had no particular intention of following and he was determined to get Grace back on the track he had chosen. ‘You don’t mention what I consider to be the main problem in all this – the death of Zeman. Enough of the girls’ gossip – don’t forget, Grace, I am a policeman, inquisitive and suspicious by nature. Are there things about that mysterious episode that you’d be prepared to tell me?’
The road narrowed and for two hundred yards or so Joe and Grace were constrained to ride in line ahead and Joe’s question was left floating in the air. As the track widened once more, Aslam led them down to a stony ford across a hurrying stream, a tributary of the meandering Bazar river.
‘As good a place as any,’ said Grace, ‘to water the horses and form up. Gather our strength before we take on the difficult part of this expedition into the hills.’
‘It wouldn’t be a bad place,’ said Joe, ‘for you to answer my question. I know how you killed Zeman, but I can’t imagine why.’
Chapter Seventeen
Then your policeman’s imagination does not deceive you, Joe,’ Grace said lightly. ‘I’m glad about that. You say you “can’t imagine why”. Well, that could be because there is no reason why. I did not kill Zeman.’
Unabashed, she met his level gaze, rendered all the more penetrating by the sooty emphasis of his eyes, and said again, ‘I did not kill Zeman. But I’d really like to hear what you mean by “knowing how” I could have killed him.’
For the sake of peace on the frontier Joe would have kept silent – had, until now, kept silent, unsettling images from the dinner party still with him. He had a picture of Grace moving around the table to talk to Lily and occupying for a minute or two Zeman’s vacated place, setting his sherbet glass negligently to one side as she settled. She could easily have palmed a pill and Grace, so experienced in all practical matters pertaining to Life and Death, with a working knowledge of poisons, could easily have dropped it into the glass. It hadn’t been cyanide. In manhandling the body on the stairs Joe had come close enough to check that there was no bitter almond smell about the man’s mouth. The vomit also had been innocent of any betraying smell of poison known to Joe. And cyanide was an instant killer. Whatever else, it wasn’t cyanide.
With a start of horror Joe wondered what would have been the Amir’s reaction when it was revealed that his personal physician designate – both female and foreign – had done away with his kinsman, a trusted serving officer? If, as many thought, he was searching for the trigger for a holy war against the British, surely none better than this would ever offer? But Joe hadn’t dismissed the theory of a palace coup and he remembered flakes of what Iskander described as white cardamom being liberally sprinkled into Zeman’s tea and Grace’s voice, casual and authoritative, ‘Why don’t you all try it? It’s an excellent carminative.’ A cover for Iskander? So easy to put something besides the cardamom into his superior officer’s cup. Were Grace and Iskander conspiring? The only thing the unlikely pair would work towards together would be the preservation of the fragile status quo, he thought. Joe had liked Iskander. He thought him clever and reasonable with a sense of humour which appealed to him. Perhaps that had put Joe off his guard.
In a heavy police voice he took Grace through his suspicions and train of thought, feeling rather foolish in the face of her quizzical and only slightly exasperated reception of his account.
‘Good, Joe. Very impressive,’ she said finally. ‘But I can’t imagine why you didn’t tell me all this earlier. You shouldn’t have kept it to yourself. I could have helped you with it. I could have pointed out that there were a hundred ways of getting poison into Zeman at that party if anyone seriously wanted to. Lily, for example, drew everyone’s attention to the fact that Edwin Burroughs gave Zeman a bismuth tablet. Was it a bismuth tablet? How will we ever know? I didn’t examine it. Did you? And if you think about it, Burroughs has much more valid reasons for wanting to stir up trouble on the frontier. A full-blown incident with the Afridi at everyone’s throats would suit him, does suit him very well. He may puff and bluster and give you and James a hard time but when your backs are turned, believe me, there’s a nasty calculating gleam in his eye. Don’t be deceived – he’s delighted by the turn of events. And who’s to say he hasn’t had a hand in turning them! It’s no secret, I think, that Britain sank all its resources into that carnage in France. We’re stretched, Joe, for men and for cash. The administrators, like Burroughs, who hold the purse strings are quite desperate to retrench and this little corner of Empire is dashed expensive to maintain in a state of battle readiness. There are those who say that this sideshow is no more than a self-indulgent training ground for young army bloods who are determined to see a bit of action in the one remaining part of Empire where there is actually blood still being spilled.’