1 The Assassins' Village

by Faith Mortimer

  Steve did. But at the same time, for some inexplicable reason he didn’t know her. He could well imagine her being very upset over what had happened. And yet, at other times she had this inner calmness, a detachment and lack of involvement with people that made her appear completely unfazed by anything. She was a mystery and on occasion made Steve feel uncomfortable. Others would have called it ‘spooky’. He’d rather Di didn’t go and see her at all. Someone would soon be round to tell them what was happening drama-wise. But, he had a sneaky suspicion Di had another motive. He suspected she was only going so she could be downright nosey.

  ‘Go if you must, but don’t get involved. Karl’s lucky, not living in the village. At least he’s been spared all this. And I don’t blame him for not contacting Alicia.’

  Diana gave him a hard look. He sounded and looked irritable. ‘What?’

  She didn’t answer.

  ‘Well,’ after a short pause. ‘We don’t really know her, do we? You must admit she is a bit strange.’ Steve helped himself to a morsel of salmon.

  ‘Yes. But I’m sure she’s harmless. She is completely without guile. Isn’t she? I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss.’

  ‘We don’t know her!’ he emphasised. He then took a softer tone. ‘Look, the police questioned her. Just what was her involvement? Leslie supposedly had an accident after their row, but Alicia didn’t raise the alarm to get help. She bloody well left him, and later on someone else finished him off with a butcher’s knife. So she said. Whatever she’s done, it’s not very nice is it? At the very least she left an elderly, injured man out in the blistering sun and did absolutely nothing. Surely that is a crime itself, before you even consider the actual knifing.’

  ‘But Kristiakis did that –’

  ‘We don’t know for sure, and as he’s now dead, it will probably take a lot longer to prove just who did kill Leslie. The whole thing’s queer apart from being bloody gruesome if you ask me. I know what you’re like. You just rush in without any thought. I don’t want you getting involved. Not until it’s all sorted out. Do you understand?’ Steve’s voice reached a new level and he looked serious.

  ‘Yes, and of course I won’t, silly. I only want to check about the rehearsal. I did promise Karl that I’d ask. He doesn’t get on too well with Alicia at the best of times, and right now he’s feeling a bit awkward and confused. For all we know the play may be postponed indefinitely. By talking to Alicia I can at least let Karl and everyone else know just what is happening.’

  Steve gave her a disbelieving look, shaking his head. She’d do exactly what she wanted whatever he said. Right at this moment he’d feel much happier with his wife safe by his side than have her wandering around with a murderer possibly still at large. He continued thinking out aloud.

  ‘There is something that is still bugging me about Leslie’s death. I know it’s horrible to dwell on it, but I can’t get it out of my mind. I lie awake last night thinking about it. When we found him with his throat cut, we assumed that it was with a knife and by the hand of a man. You know, men being that much stronger etcetera.’

  ‘Yes, go on.’ Steve had her complete attention.

  ‘Well, the person must have been incredibly strong to have practically taken his head off with a knife and the knife must have been razor sharp and probably very large. So far, we don’t know if the police have even found the murder weapon.’

  ‘No we don’t. What’s your point Steve?’

  ‘I suppose, I still find it hard to believe that someone had so much hate in them to mutilate Leslie quite so much.’ Steve looked confused and sounded upset.

  Di stood and went over to him. She put her arms around his waist and leant down, her head resting on his shoulder.

  ‘You are such a kind man. I know you’re finding all this difficult to come to terms with, me too.’

  ~~~

  Di stared at the contents of the room she had entered. She’d never been inside Alicia’s house before today, and hadn’t a clue what she might find. Consequently, she was hardly prepared for the haphazard scene before her.

  Multicoloured rugs and throws, silken woven tapestries and cushions of all colours and sizes were spread about the room. Dark wooden tables and squat chests of drawers were littered with brass bells and candlesticks, incense burning joss sticks and fat white candles. Along one wall, a huge dresser was almost covered with hanging bunches of dried herbs, and a whole row of small labelled jars that on closer inspection were found to contain herbal remedies, medicines, balms and ointments. Around the walls, there hung a cornucopia of artefacts. Leather belts, tasselled whips and brass plate, all jostling for space. There was an almost overwhelming smell of incense and pungency from a thick salve that Alicia was in the process of bottling. Diana looked on, amazed and speechless.

  Inexplicably, Alicia seemed to be expecting her, and watched in silence while she took in all the colour and objects that were thrown together in a delightful chaotic fashion. Most items Di recognised from visiting local Indian furniture shops. But, there were some things that were decidedly bizarre.

  Alicia took time explaining the more unusual pieces that you possibly wouldn’t find in the town shops. Carved teak bowls, sandalwood boxes with secret compartments, painted shrines and a very ugly candle stand. In one alcove a recycled teak panel had been made into coat hooks that were hung with anything but coats. Diana looked at a kharal, a wooden bowl that had been used for carrying opium water, wooden printing blocks, lacquered ornaments, terracotta wall adornments and dokra - brass scrap. That Alicia had travelled and lived in India for some time was apparent.

  ‘This is all amazing. I had no idea. Wow! Some of these things are fabulous,’ Di exclaimed. ‘What is that?’ She pointed to a strange looking piece of equipment that was half-hidden behind a life size figure of a gruesome looking, four-armed woman. The object had a wooden handle about eight inches long and with two inches in diameter. The wood looked like mahogany. Its surface was octagonal and there were many deep grooves cut into it for an easier grip. A braided rope was attached to each end.

  Alicia’s eyes followed in the direction where Diana was pointing. ‘That is Kali, the Hindu Mother Goddess. She is the full picture of Universal Power. She represents Mother, the Benign and Mother, the Terrible. She creates and nourishes; she kills and destroys. She is good and bad but in reality she is neither. God is neither good nor bad but both. God is beyond the pair of opposites which constitute this relative existence,’ she said in a quiet voice, her eyes slightly closed as if she was softly chanting a mantra. It was mildly hypnotic and soporific.

  ‘Oh.’ For a moment Diana was nonplussed. She gave her head a little shake to dispel her sudden lassitude. She certainly hadn’t expected Alicia to go off into a semi-trance. What a strange woman she thought.

  ‘That’s very interesting, but what I really meant was, that wooden handled thing behind the statue.’

  There was a slight hesitation before Alicia answered her. ‘That? Oh it’s a Punjab Lasso.’

  ‘Punjab Lasso? I think I’ve heard of it but I don’t know where from or why. It looks slightly sinister, almost like a whip. What’s it used for?’

  ‘Oh, they’re not used any more. Now, what do you think about this?’ Passing a lacquered rolling pin over to her, Alicia asked. ‘Don’t you think it’s pretty?’

  Diana ran a finger down the length of the pin. The pattern and sheen were beautiful, making it quite exquisite.

  ‘Would you like tea? I don’t have any coffee I’m afraid, but I do have some refreshing fruit teas or camomile.’

  ‘Well, if it’s not any trouble. That would be very nice, a fruit tea, please.’

  Alicia gave her a small nod and left the room.

  Diana could hear Alicia’s movements in the adjoining kitchen as she made the tea. Wandering around the room, Diana savoured the ‘foreignness’ of it all. Alicia possessed many lovely things, even if one or two were strange. She picked up a heavy silvered photogr
aph frame. It contained a photo of two young women. Their faces were lean and tanned. Their smiles appeared hesitant and as Di peered more closely she caught a resemblance to Alicia. Who were they, her younger sisters maybe?

  Replacing the frame, she tiptoed over to re-examine the Punjab Lasso. The rope appeared to be made of catgut or horse hair. It was a strange looking object and she was annoyed that she couldn’t recall where she had heard about it. She decided to look it up on the internet once she returned home.

  The air was thick and heavy with the overpowering scent of incense and Diana felt that it wouldn’t take very much effort on her part to lie down on one of the cushioned divans and fall into a deep sleep. It was also incredibly hot in Alicia’s house.

  ‘Please sit down.’ The sound of the voice made Di jump. She hadn’t heard her return. Alicia stood right behind her holding two earthenware mugs in her hands. She indicated that Di should take one.

  Inhaling the fragrance from the steaming cup, Di tentatively took a sip. The taste was unusual, not unpleasant. It left a fruity aftertaste and a tingle on her tongue. Taking another mouthful, Di thought that her mouth felt slightly numb. She thought about Steve. He would have hated it! A double espresso was more to his liking.

  ‘Hmm. Different, quite interesting. What exactly is it?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, a blend I make up myself.’ Alicia sat opposite Di on a high backed chair. She cradled the mug in both hands. Despite the heat she wore a light shawl around her shoulders. Di thought she looked unwell with a sickly pallor. She was always skeletally thin, only now her eyes appeared huge and bruised in her white face. Her freckles stood out clearly and her red hair was pinned back into a bun at the nape of her neck. As Alicia lifted the mug to her own mouth Di noticed the tremor in her hands.

  ‘As you’ve never visited me here before, I can only suppose you’re here to find out what the police said and why they let me come home?’

  Di felt the beginnings of a flush rise up into her cheeks at Alicia’s directness.

  ‘Um, well no, not entirely. We are supposed to be having a rehearsal later this week. We wondered if, well if you still wanted to? Or perhaps leave it until later? I thought I could telephone round to let everyone know what you’d decided. Karl is particularly keen to know.’ She felt awkward as the excuse sounded a bit lame even to own ears. Her voice trailed off and she inwardly cursed her telltale blush.

  Alicia studied her for a moment, her eyes quite cold. Diana knew Alicia saw through her little story. Alicia would have guessed everyone in the village was agog with anticipation, ghouls for news about the crime.

  ‘I think we’d better cancel and have it later. If we kept the rehearsal nobody would be able to concentrate anyway. Don’t you agree?’ Her voice sounded husky and cracked, as if she was upset.

  ‘Yes. Are you all right Alicia? Of course everyone is concerned. We’re all worried about you and Sonja and everything that has happened.’

  Alicia raised wounded eyes to meet Diana’s. When she spoke she had a distinct edge to her voice.

  ‘Sonja! We’re supposed to be friends but she won’t speak to me now! I haven’t spoken to her since I was interviewed by the police. She obviously doesn’t want to accept that I’ve been released from police custody, and that I didn’t kill him, as if I would!’

  Diana was taken aback at her words. Alicia had had an affair with Sonja’s husband and she’d left him injured. Couldn’t she see that Sonja would be hurting and very angry? Above all, she would be highly suspicious of Alicia. Di was a tad tentative when she replied.

  ‘Well, she knew you’d met him that day surely?’

  ‘Yes, yes. She knew all about his numerous affairs over the years. I think he used to tell her. Perhaps he thought it turned her on, I really don’t know. She knew he only used women for sex, since he always came back to her. As long as she let him have the freedom, he’d quite happily come home at night to roost.’ She gave a short laugh that sounded full of bitterness.

  Di was surprised at her admission. It was also quite a long personal speech for Alicia and Di had learned a lot more about the three of them and their messy triangle. The colour in Alicia’s cheeks rose as she continued in a rush.

  ‘She knows we met and argued, and that I hit him in frustration. It was only partly in anger. He took a step back and fell. I rushed down to him as fast as I could and he was alive, he spoke to me. He was furious, calling me every vile thing he could think of. I was so shocked and said that he could damn well stew there until he calmed down. Anyway, I thought he was shamming. I knew that someone would eventually come along and find him. I’d heard Kristiakis out shooting earlier on, further down in the valley and you have to come back up on that piece of track to get anywhere. She paused, slightly breathless from her uncharacteristic outburst.

  Yes, Di thought, but what about his fractured leg? Shamming? She and Steve had noticed it almost immediately. Alicia was supposed to be a healer of some sort, wasn’t she? She had certainly neglected to heal Leslie. Feeling excited, Di decided to hold her tongue. Which was feeling decidedly numb by now? Perhaps if she kept quiet Alicia would disclose more. She was getting this information first hand as far as she knew. Up until now, nobody else had spoken to Alicia for any length of time.

  ‘He was a bit grazed and bruised from his fall. Shaken up, but that’s all. I never did what the inspector said,’ she gave a dry sob. ‘I never did that. I couldn’t.’ She began to weep openly, slow fat tears rolling down her face. Diana watched as one tear dripped from her chin onto her neck. Where Alicia’s shawl had fallen open in her agitation Di noticed an ugly raw scratch down her throat.

  Di stood up, anxious, not knowing what to do, except, she was beginning to wish that she’d never come here. Steve was right after all. She took Alicia’s mug from her hands and placed it on a low table by her side. She didn’t want her to be upset; she probably needed counselling of some sort. But Di had promised Steve not to get involved. She felt confused. After hearing what Alicia had just told her, and by what she and Steve had found, nothing added up. A bit grazed, Alicia had just said. What rubbish!

  Di felt sick as she recalled that last meeting with Leslie and his lolling head. She remembered the bright, crimson scarf of assassination around his throat, and the buzzing from the flies attracted by the smell of death. Either Alicia was lying or someone else had come along and finished him off with a bloody great knife. Whoever had done it must have been covered in a hell of a lot of blood. She glanced around her, half expecting to see a bundle of bloodstained clothes lying in the corner, a knife handle protruding from the folds of cloth. Her thoughts began to run away with her as other possible scenarios tumbled over in her mind.

  Di felt the panic rising in her throat. She had to get out of there and away from Alicia and her strange ideas. Without reason, stories she’d heard flooded into her head. Alicia belonged to some secret sect, controlled by a guru of some sort. This weirdo had stipulated that all his women should have sex at least six times a day, as it was good for the soul. It must have been for his own good whilst she had studied under him.

  Then there was her meddling with herbal remedies. Remedy? What was that old joke that frequently did the village rounds? Last year she had almost poisoned Leslie by giving him too strong a homemade homeopathic medicine for his arthritic ankle? Hadn’t it been whispered that she’d used the ancient herb aconite? Wasn’t aconite a herb that stimulates and paralyses the nerves of pain and touch? An ancient anaesthesia. What had Alicia been thinking of? Her mouth felt dry and numb. Numb! What had Alicia put in the tea she had just drunk?

  With a jolt Di remembered about the Punjab Lasso. She and Steve had seen the musical of The Phantom of the Opera when they were last in the UK. In the musical there was some mention of a garrotte or lasso. The haunting words came back to her, “keep your hand above the level of your eyes.” Intrigued to learn more about the story, Di researched the Internet and found that the original novel by Gaston Leroux mentione
d that the phantom Eric had spent some time in India. Like Alicia. There, Eric had acquired knowledge of how to use the lasso. It was more commonly known as a Thuggee Strangulation stick. The thin rope would have been dropped over the victim’s head, and when it fully encircled the neck would be jerked violently back, reinforced perhaps by a knee in the spine. As the rope was tightened by twisting the stick, the blood supply would be cut off and the victim would slowly die. It was quite, quite horrible. The murderer or the ‘Thuggee Silent Assassin’ from India would watch their victim struggle as oxygen was denied him. The research had said that this barbaric practice was supposedly wiped out in nineteenth century India. As Di cast a hurried look in the direction of the weapon she wondered if that really was the case.

  What was Alicia doing with such a vile instrument if she was supposed to be a healer? A frightening idea flashed into her mind. It wouldn’t take too much strength to choke someone to death with one. Was it also possible - and she nearly passed out at the thought, if the rope had been fine or thin, could it cut into flesh deep enough to nearly take someone’s head off? She cast another involuntary look over to the lasso and gave a strangled gasp as Alicia saw where her gaze was directed.

  Diana recoiled from the figure that suddenly loomed in front of her. She felt her own throat constrict, leaving her gasping for air. The thick atmosphere was cloying, assaulting her senses. Her stomach heaved with terror. She had to get out of there, fast.

  Chapter 36. Steve

  Can such things be, and overcome us like a summer’s cloud,

  without our special wonder?

  Macbeth. Act 3 Scene 4

  ‘I told you! What did I say? Don’t get involved,’ he’d bellowed as soon as she’d raced back home and he’d taken one look at her ashen face. Steve was obviously furious with her. ‘Look at the state you’re in. You’re white-faced, looking ill and no doubt feeling sick. This is not doing you any bloody good.’