‘You think so?’ The words were spoken dryly as he handed Ned a glass.
Ned knocked back the brandy in one gulp and then groaned. Jack couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Despite all the anger he’d directed at Ned during his rages, none of his pain was Ned’s fault. His gripe was with Iris; his disappointment was with himself. Ned had acted nobly throughout. ‘You have to stay calm. Panicking won’t help.’
‘Calm? I killed a man, Jack. And you want me to stay calm as they reopen the case and go hunting for clues?’
‘There are no clues. They will have no fresh evidence. If you’re backed into a corner and someone can place you in that room, you can always say he made a pass at you, perhaps even touched you improperly, and that you brushed him aside and left. They have absolutely no witnesses to attest that you were in the room at the time of death.’
‘They have something, Jack, or we wouldn’t be summoned. I have a wife … a child on the way,’ Ned groaned, sitting down heavily and covering his head with his hands.
‘If you listen to me, they’ll both be safe.’
‘I listened to you before.’ His voice was muffled, distraught.
‘Well, no one else is running to save you. All you’ve got is me.’
‘Jack the hero, eh?’
‘What have you told your family?’
‘Nothing! Iris knows nothing.’
‘Perhaps she should know.’
‘Not now.’
‘Ned, she’s stronger than you think. You can’t keep this from her.’
‘I’ve mentioned it to her parents.’
‘What possessed you to do that?’
‘Because I may need their support. I’ve only told them the case might re-emerge and I may need to go into Bangalore.’
‘Harold knows I was at the house that evening, even though Sabu denied it.’
Ned looked shocked.
‘He’s not going to say anything so don’t panic.’
‘So what do I do?’
‘Well, don’t go rushing off to Bangalore until we’re formally summoned. This letter sounds like just a courtesy, and that’s probably all it will ever be.’
‘We can’t be sure of that. We have to get our stories right.’
‘The story doesn’t change, Ned. That’s the point. Do not embellish, do not take anything away from what we’ve already said.’
Ned sighed. Drained his coffee. ‘I’ll go. Thanks for listening. I’m on mornings for the next two weeks if you think of anything else.’
Jack didn’t go directly to bed. Instead, he found himself riding up the long driveway to the club, and although he wasn’t appropriately dressed, the bearers permitted him to use the phones after he’d explained it was an emergency. He was put through to the Bangalore Club and had Henry Berry called to the phone.
‘What’s the matter, Jack? Not like you to make calls in the dead of night.’
Jack explained, fringing around the truth. ‘I was the one at the club who found Brent. He died in my arms. Everyone thinks he must’ve tripped and hit his head. He only said a few words so I was no help at all but unfortunately it did involve me in the case.’
‘So you want me to find out what they know?’
‘Well, I don’t want to make a trip into Bangalore unnecessarily. It will mean time off work and grumpy wives.’ He tried to sound as offhand as possible. ‘I mean, it’s got so little to do with us. I wish I’d never even raised the alarm.’
‘All right, old chap. I’ll see what I can find out. I’ll call you in a few days.’
‘Thanks, Henry.’
‘Don’t mention it. Talk soon.’
Jack hung up. He rode home, slowing as he passed by the store that he believed could be open for business within the month. He had an idea about it that he wanted to talk over with Elizabeth. He felt sure she would like his plan. He wished this whole business of Brent hadn’t erupted. Just when he thought he had managed to get his life into some order, life itself got in the way.
He knew she would be waiting. She never slept until he was by her side, even on the worst shifts when he’d arrive home in the early hours and slide in next to her, exhausted, she would be more awake than he was. Whichever of the benevolent gods had sent him Elizabeth, he knew he should thank them each day of his life, for she was an angel in their midst.
41
Henry tapped the phone. ‘Are you there, Jack? Jack? Damn it, he’s dropped out! Jack?’
‘I’m here, Henry,’ Jack said, forcing out the words through his shock. He quickly gathered his wits and composed himself. ‘As I thought, of little consequence. Anyway, I guess we’ll just have to wait and hear. Thanks again, Henry.’
‘Not a problem at all. I suppose you’ll be here for the inquiry, will you?’
‘Yes, I suppose. I promise to call.’
‘You do that. It’s my turn. Dinner at the Bombay Duck, I think.’
‘You’re on. See you then.’
Jack hung up. His lips felt numb and his face clammy. He needed to tell Ned, but first he needed a drink.
Several whiskies later, he had the courage to speak with Ned. It was nearing two. He might just be able to catch Ned coming off his shift. He rode his bike to the electricity department and waited outside, trying not to think about the information Henry had just passed on. The implications were grave.
If he could find a way to set things right, get them both out of this trouble that was deepening around them, then he was going to change his life for good.
And the first thing he was going to do was to start a family with Kanakammal. He smiled to himself. He could say her name in his mind when he didn’t think too hard on it. Yes, he would take her into Bangalore and show her their house there; he would buy her more jewellery, and lead her through the shop he hoped she would agree to run for him. The more he involved her in his life, the less he would think about Iris.
He wanted to set up another shop now, in Robertsonpet, perhaps another at Nundydroog. Jack could already envisage a chain of stores, perhaps with soda bars that could become meeting places serving good food, great coffee and, of course, ice-cream and cakes. It was a nice daydream and he wanted to make it a reality. But first they had to get past the ghost of Brent, who had returned to haunt them.
If he were granted this one last escape, he would put Iris behind him once and for all. He made this pledge silently, casting it out, begging for his vow to be heard.
Ned walked out of the electrical compound and Jack felt his throat close; how was he going to tell Ned? And more importantly, how was he going to protect him?
‘Jack?’
‘We need to talk,’ he said, revving the engine. ‘Hop on.’
‘Iris will be —’
‘This is important.’
Ned could see he meant it. ‘Well, I can’t be too long. Take me up to the petty shop, then I can buy something for her and say I wanted to treat her.’
‘Sounds like she keeps you on a short leash.’
‘I keep myself on one.’
Jack gunned the engine. Later, after Ned had chosen some Rowntree’s Table Jellies and a small tin of cocoa to take home, they walked down to the railway line. It was a quiet spot.
‘I’ve found out what we need to know, and it does complicate things.’
‘Tell me.’
Jack took a breath and outlined what had been twisting in his gut since he’d heard the news. ‘It seems the zealous lawyer and his very determined client have got a witness who confirms we were at the club together, looking for Brent.’
‘What?’ Ned’s face blanched.
‘Breathe, Ned, breathe.’
‘That can’t be.’
‘I’m afraid it can. It was my oversight not to get that particular palm greased. Damn it!’ He banged a fist into his hand. ‘Stupid, stupid!’
Ned looked glazed. ‘Who is it?’
‘The man called Ramesh.’
‘Ramesh?’
‘The bearer I spoke to as we arrived. Da
mn him! And damn that woman’s lawyer for even finding him.’
Ned looked distraught. ‘But can they trust his memory?’
‘Well, we could deny it, but they’d then have to ask themselves why he would lie. No, we need something to discredit his memory. I’ll have to think about it. For now we hold our nerve.’
‘What? And hope it goes away?’
‘Ned, it’s an old, old case. Think about it. The police don’t want to get involved in a fresh inquiry … that suggests they didn’t do their job properly in the first place. We don’t want it rearing its ugly head so we’re not going to be in a hurry to help. That leaves Brent’s widow and her highly paid lawyer out on a limb and all the pressure on them to come up with a watertight case, which I suspect they don’t have. For now we don’t overreact. Let others take the lead.’
‘I don’t know what game you’re playing.’
‘It’s an old favourite. It’s called Saving Ned Sinclair’s Arse. Just carry on normally.’
‘Is that it?’
‘Unless you want yourself torn to shreds by your wife. I know how possessive those Anglo-Indians can be.’
Ned shook his head wearily. ‘Leave her alone.’
‘I have.’
As Jack watched Ned slouch down the hill he wasn’t convinced about his state of mind, and whether he could cope with this latest news. He really didn’t want to, but maybe he’d have to speak with Iris.
Kanakammal was waiting inside for him, quiet as always. If she had questions, she kept them to herself.
He kissed her hello. ‘Let me take you to see the shop. It’s nearly ready.’
‘I have some news,’ she said, surprising him with the urgency in her voice.
‘Tell me,’ he said, sitting down and pulling her next to him.
‘I am having our child.’
Jack was speechless. ‘A baby?’ he finally said. She nodded and Jack sprang up. ‘A baby!’
Kanakammal laughed her throaty laugh. ‘It can happen.’
Jack grabbed her hands and pulled her back to her feet. He kissed her. ‘That’s the best news I think I’ve ever received.’
‘Yes?’
‘Yes!’ he yelled. ‘Yes! A son, perhaps. A new generation of Bryants. He has to be named Howel, after an old Cornish king.’
‘It could be a girl. We could call her Muthulakshmi,’ and then she burst out laughing at the look on his face. ‘An English name is good but she will need an Indian name too.’
‘That’s fine, so long as we can baptise them with good Cornish names.’ He grinned. ‘You clever girl.’
‘You helped.’
He kissed her again and it was deep and loving. ‘Thank you for our child. It’s a sign.’
‘Of what?’
‘That my life is blessed by you.’
She smiled but there was something in her eyes that flashed concern. It was gone quickly but he’d seen it.
‘What is it?’
She shook her head, pretending she didn’t understand.
‘Something’s wrong.’
‘It is nothing.’
‘Please tell me.’
‘I just had an odd feeling that you would have to leave me.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re stuck with me now. We have everything to look forward to.’
Kanakammal nodded, but Jack noticed a slightly haunted expression that wasn’t fully disguised by her smile.
42
Iris said she’d send the newly employed chokra down with a tiffin for his lunch and then stood with her hands on her hips, head cocked as she regarded her husband.
‘You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you, Ned?’
‘What?’ he asked, absently.
‘I suppose I should be grateful that you’re at least shaving again. What’s got into you?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘You’re so distracted, distant. Have I done something wrong?’
He did up the last button of his work shirt and reached for her. He knew he was acting vacant but he was worried. It was all he could do right now to get through each anxious day. ‘Don’t be silly.’
‘You’re acting awfully strange, Ned.’
‘I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.’
‘Like what?’
‘Everything. Being in charge of the electrical department isn’t a walk in the park, Iris. I have a lot of responsibility now and the company wants its pound of flesh.’
‘I understand, but you’re not eating, you hardly talk any more and recently it’s as if you’re not even paying attention to what’s going on around you.’
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. ‘I’m busy, that’s all. I’ve got villagers trying to steal electricity and it’s getting out of hand. What began as one or two is now a small organised mob of wily shopkeepers.’
‘Well, don’t bring those problems home. You work long enough hours as it is. When you’re here, I want you here for me. You can’t ignore your new baby as you’re ignoring me.’
‘I’m not ignoring you!’
‘You are. You don’t even come to bed with me any more. How do you imagine that makes me feel? I’ll tell you … unattractive, unwanted, certainly unloved.’
‘Oh, Iris, please don’t talk like that.’ He tried to kiss her pouting mouth but she pulled her head away.
‘No, think about it, Ned. I want more for us. You don’t take me dancing, we never did get on that honeymoon you promised, I need some new shoes but —’
‘Money doesn’t grow on trees,’ he began, as Jack’s caution that Iris’s needs would outgrow what Ned could provide began to echo.
‘Don’t patronise me. I know what we can and can’t afford. You remind me often enough.’
‘Perhaps you married the wrong man, then.’ He’d wanted it to come out lightly, as a jest, but the ever tightening anxiety in his chest forced it out like a challenge.
She stepped back as if slapped. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
He’d said it; he couldn’t backtrack now. ‘Well, clearly I’m not providing all that you need.’
‘Clearly you’re not even trying,’ she said. ‘Most of what I need won’t cost you anything.’
‘I don’t want to fight with you, Iris.’
‘You can’t just ignore me because you don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Talk about what?’ he said, his voice raised now.
‘Whatever’s going on in that head of yours. What’s worrying you so much?’
He needed to throw her off the scent. ‘Well, perhaps I’m not enough for you. Perhaps Jack Bryant would have been a better provider.’
It made her cry and he felt like a bully. He had no right to question her loyalty. Iris had been nothing but a loving and devoted wife since they’d married.
‘I’m sorry,’ he tried.
‘Go to work, Ned. Just go away.’
He didn’t linger, storming out as though he were the victim of their angry words. And it did nothing to help his fragile state of mind. Suddenly the world that had seemed so bright felt dark and crowded and bleak again. This was how he’d felt in Rangoon; and all that horror was reaching for him again, wanting to suck him back into its maw. It had taken his parents, it had taken his friend and, although he felt Bella was now safe, it seemed as though it hadn’t completely finished with him. Brent’s malevolent shadow hovered above him, wanting to guide him behind bars.
If he was found to be Brent’s murderer, what would that do to Iris, to the Walker family, to their unborn child? He would rot in jail knowing his son or daughter was growing up with a murderer for a father, doing his time at the prison in Sheshadri Road. He gave a harsh, mirthless laugh as he walked down the short path to work, realising he would have come full circle, for the Bangalore prison was just a hundred yards from his first abode in the city.
He didn’t want to die in an Indian jail; he’d rather end his life on his own terms. He shook his mind fr
ee of his unhappy thoughts and turned into the compound, hoping the shift would keep him so busy he’d have no time to think.
Jack was back on nights but he’d found out that Ned was on days. He’d caught up briefly with Ned the previous afternoon and was shocked by his hollow, unshaven appearance. Ned had been distracted and nervous, saying several times that he would rather kill himself than do time in an Indian jail. It was ridiculous. Jack firmly believed there’d be no case to answer and the only reason the police were sending out letters was to appease the angry widow.
All she had was a servant’s memory from almost seven years ago at the Bangalore Club. Jack didn’t think that would be enough to convince the authorities to formally reopen a case. And even if it was, it would then be Ned’s word against Ramesh’s. Jack would fare better but only if Ned held his nerve.
But Ned was threatening to unravel, and that’s why Jack needed to call in help. Jack was damned if he’d go down as an accomplice to murder. As much as he wanted to save Ned a jail sentence, self-interest drove him too.
He sped down to Oorgaum, skirting the back of the Sinclair property, and hiding his motorbike beneath a low shrub. Ned’s company house sat alone in its own small but private grounds. Nevertheless, he jumped the low fence and approached by the back door, scattering chickens and terrifying a chokra boy feeding them.
‘Is the madam in?’ he said.
The boy seemed to understand. He pointed towards what Jack assumed was the kitchen area. The door was open. Jack heard soft music from a radio and the sound of sweeping, a woman’s voice humming softly.
‘Hello?’ he called and then stepped inside.
Iris appeared, tucking back a curl of hair from her flushed face and wearing an old house frock with an apron on top. She looked more lovely than he could possibly have imagined.
‘J-Jack!’
‘I’m sorry to call unannounced,’ he said, not elaborating.
She put down her broom, hurriedly pulled off her apron and tried to straighten her hair. It didn’t matter to him. She looked beautiful.
‘What are you doing here?’ She glanced behind her. ‘Why did you come to the back?’
‘I need to speak with you privately.’
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