A Murder on Malabar Hill

by Sujata Massey

‘I could tell you if I went. I’ll go mad sitting here all day,’ Perveen said.

  ‘Why not ring Alice?’ Gulnaz asked brightly. ‘Perhaps she can drop by for a visit.’

  The thought of Alice was a comfort. Nodding at Gulnaz, Perveen asked Camellia if her friend could come over for lunch. It was high time for a chat, and Perveen knew there was a chance Alice had overheard more gossip about the government’s interest in the Farids.

  ‘We’re happy to host Alice. I’ll ask John to make it a special ladies’ luncheon with a lot of sweets—unless you will also be staying, Rustom?’

  Rustom yawned, putting a hand over his mouth too late. ‘I’d like to sleep a few more hours, but I’m needed at the construction office.’

  This gave Perveen another idea. ‘If you’re going to your office, Rustom, may I ask you to do me a favour there?’

  He gave her a searching look. ‘What?’

  ‘You mentioned the architectural drawings for 22 Sea View Road are stored in a cabinet. I’d like to borrow them.’

  Rustom drank deeply from his coffee cup before answering. ‘I only saw the outside wrappings, and those plans are from Queen Victoria’s time. They have probably deteriorated.’

  ‘Or the plans might be perfectly fine because of the care Grandfather took with wrapping them,’ Perveen said. ‘Will you please, please have one of the clerks look?’

  ‘Haven’t I done enough for you?’ Rustom grumbled. ‘Why do you need them now? Too much is happening. I’m exhausted.’

  ‘Those plans offer a chance to understand the house’s twists and turns,’ Jamshedji said. ‘It would be especially useful for me, as I can’t go inside the zenana.’

  ‘All right, Pappa. I’ll see what I can do,’ Rustom said.

  Perveen smiled a silent thank you at Jamshedji. It often seemed she was in a contest with her father, but occasionally, they came to a draw.

  Alice was pleased to get a call from Perveen. After hearing a summary of the events of the previous day, including the rescue by stevedores, she accepted the invitation to join Perveen, Gulnaz and Camellia for a Parsi lunch.

  Alice arrived at one-thirty in a dark-blue Crossley, rather than the Rolls. Still, the neighbourhood’s young cricketers stood gawking as the tall, blonde Englishwoman strode up to the Mistrys’ gate. Catching sight of the group, Alice wound up her arm and bowled an imaginary cricket ball straight at them. They broke apart laughing.

  ‘Alice, come in,’ Perveen said, coming outside when her friend didn’t approach the door.

  ‘It really is you,’ Alice said, beaming at her. ‘I went to the wrong house first. They were too friendly; wanted me to come in for tea and started talking about wanting an English governess. I suppose it was my first job offer.’

  ‘Perveen, is that you?’ Gwendolyn Hobson-Jones shielded her eyes from the sun with a hand as she peered from the car.

  ‘Good afternoon, Lady Hobson-Jones,’ Perveen replied, her spirits sinking. She hadn’t thought Alice’s mother was coming.

  Lady Hobson-Jones marched up the path and into the house, where she swivelled her head to take in the hall, parlour and dining room. ‘I drove with Alice to ensure she arrived safely, given all that’s happened in Bombay this week. Did you have some sort of trouble yesterday evening?’

  Alice shot Perveen a glance that she interpreted to mean she shouldn’t say much.

  ‘It was a mix-up about where I was. As you can expect, my parents worry about me being out past dark, even though I’m twenty-three.’ Perveen kept her tone light. ‘Won’t you come in to meet my mother? And would you like to lunch with us?’

  ‘Sorry. I’m off to a luncheon at the Bombay Gymkhana. Sirjit will return for Alice in about three hours.’

  ‘Sorry for the intrusion,’ Alice murmured to Perveen as the two watched the departing car. ‘She had some fears about what a Parsi home would be like. I think all the silver and mahogany put her at ease.’

  ‘Really? I thought she was the modern type.’ Perveen could never relax under Alice’s mother’s scrutiny. It was a good thing she hadn’t been free for lunch.

  ‘I like your neighbourhood,’ Alice said, going into the parlour to look out of the window at the street. ‘So many tall houses with pretty ironwork balconies. I’m sure they will stand the test of time. And it’s practical to have so many small parks around for people to enjoy.’

  ‘My brother Rustom’s head would swell if he heard your review,’ Perveen said with a chuckle. ‘He’s building many of these homes, and while the trees in the parks and on the streets are still small, he thinks this could become Bombay’s greenest neighbourhood in a few decades.’

  Camellia stepped into the hall to take Alice’s hat. ‘How do you do, Miss Hobson-Jones? I’m Perveen’s mother. She painted such a nice picture of you through all the letters she wrote from Oxford. I’m grateful that you were her first English friend.’

  ‘First and best friend,’ Perveen added. ‘In England and in India.’

  Alice bent awkwardly at the shoulders to address the petite woman at eye level. Holding out her hand, she said, ‘Mrs Mistry, please call me Alice. And thanks very much for asking me to lunch. It’s nice of you to have a guest when you are likely still getting over last evening’s trouble.’

  ‘I am a bit weary, it’s true,’ Camellia said with a warm smile. ‘And in India, we usually call our friends’ mothers Auntie. I will be pleased to become your Camellia-auntie.’

  ‘Thank you, Camellia-auntie,’ Alice said, beaming back at her.

  Gulnaz drifted into the hallway towards their cordial cluster. Sounding very reserved, she said, ‘Miss Hobson-Jones, I’m Gulnaz. I’m Perveen’s sister-in-law, but we’ve known each other since primary school.’

  ‘How intriguing that you married her brother,’ Alice said with a wink. ‘Do call me Alice, Gulnaz. Tell me, did you know Rustom when he was in short pants?’

  Gulnaz blushed. ‘No. It was an arranged marriage.’

  ‘A blissful one,’ Perveen said, smiling at Gulnaz, who she suspected might have overheard her description of Alice as her best friend. ‘I can’t tell you how much nicer my brother’s become since Gulnaz’s arrival. It’s a terrific deal for all of us.’

  The young women had a few more minutes of pleasant small talk before Camellia called them to the table to eat fish, potato curry, chappatis, dal pulao and kachumber.

  ‘Do you eat like this every day?’ Alice was already reaching for her fork and knife.

  ‘Of course. Will you eat pomfret?’ Camellia asked.

  ‘Yes, but where is the fish?’ Alice stared in amazement at the steaming banana-leaf package that John added to her plate.

  ‘It’s patra ni machhi, a Parsi speciality,’ Gulnaz said. ‘You don’t eat the banana leaf. When you open it, you’ll find a lovely fillet with a coconut spice paste on top.’

  ‘It’s delicious,’ Alice said after a bite. ‘But did you leave off the chillies for me?’

  ‘I thought chillies might hurt your stomach,’ Camellia said. ‘Am I wrong?’

  ‘I was born in Madras and nursed by a Tamil. Bring the chillies on!’

  After lunch, Gulnaz decided she would take rest. Perveen suspected Alice had overwhelmed her. Gulnaz had asked about the latest trends in England, and instead of talking about fashion and films, Alice had soliloquized on the recent triumphs of the suffrage movement, the future of women in mathematics and Irish freedom.

  The rich luncheon made Perveen slightly tired too, but her mind was still reeling with thoughts about all that had happened over the last few days.

  Perveen took Alice upstairs and through her airy bedroom out to the large balcony. Lillian was having a midday nap but woke readily at the sight of the saucer of chopped cucumber and tomato Alice fed her. After eating her lunch, the parrot sat on the Englishwoman’s shoulder and stared at her blonde hair for a long time before making the first peck at it.

  ‘Lillian, you mustn’t bite people,’ Perveen chided, and the parrot wh
ooshed off to the garden. ‘You’d almost think she’s ashamed of her behaviour.’

  ‘No need to anthropomorphize,’ Alice said. ‘The bird is attracted to any source of light. She hoped that my hair was edible and went off because it wasn’t.’

  ‘Oh, Alice,’ Perveen said with a sigh. ‘It’s all so unbelievable, sitting here joking like nothing happened.’

  Alice reached out and closed her big hand over Perveen’s small one. ‘When Gulnaz called and I realized you weren’t in the office doing papers, my first thought was you’d done another bunk. I thought you had wanted to go to the pictures without me.’

  ‘I invited you. Why would you think that?’

  ‘I see the way people look at me as I go through city. Yes, some of them smile and offer me namaste gestures, but I know they resent us. You probably had to lobby for me to be admitted to the lunch table.’

  ‘As you know, I’ve wanted you to come since the day you arrived, and today’s spontaneous luncheon was my sister-in-law’s idea.’ Mischievously, she added, ‘I thoroughly enjoyed watching you sprinkle a few too many fresh green chillies on your fish.’

  ‘All the while your mother was explaining fish is called machhi, and chillies are called mirchi. Hindi is far too confusing.’

  Jaya, the housemaid, stepped on to the balcony with a long cedar box. ‘Memsahib, this was just delivered from Mistry Construction.’

  ‘Perfect timing.’ Perveen took the box into her lap and realized she was almost afraid to open it. Would the box have kept its contents well preserved, or was she going to find a nest of weevils and a few scraps of architectural plans?

  ‘You’re holding that thing like a baby. What is it?’ Alice teased.

  ‘I’ll let you see when I open it up on my desk in the bedroom. The document is old, and I don’t want anything to blow away in the wind.’

  ‘It’s not a top-secret legal document I must not see?’ Alice asked, following her in.

  ‘Not at all. These are the architectural drawings for 22 Sea View Road.’

  Inside the box, a leather-bound folio held a series of drawings on thick stock that had yellowed and was brittle on the edges. But the plans hadn’t been affected by damp or insects, and the ink markings were dark enough to see.

  Perveen took extreme care as she opened the series of pages that showed exterior views and elevations of the bungalow. ‘What do you think? I suppose I should have my brother here pointing things out. It all looks very geometric.’

  Alice looked over Perveen’s shoulder for a good minute before speaking. ‘If one counts all my classes in public school and Oxford, I’ve studied geometry for five years. But one doesn’t need a mathematics degree to see that the angles in these facades don’t match the floor plans.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Perveen adjusted herself to see Alice, who was still gazing deeply at the building sketch.

  ‘I can tell you what I think is strange, but it would be more significant if I knew about who’s staying in which room.’

  Perveen thought she should wait to ask her father whether he’d approve of what she was about to do. But she wanted to hear from Alice, and she finally knew how she could bring her in.

  ‘Just a minute.’ Perveen walked out to the balcony again and slid open the panel underneath the floor of Lillian’s cage. She pulled out a tarnished sovereign, one of the few coins she had left from her time in England. Of course, keeping it outdoors for the last half year had resulted in its tarnishing, but it could always be polished. Returning to Alice, Perveen held out the coin.

  ‘That is quite generous, but I’m more in need of rupees than a Queen Victoria sovereign,’ Alice said dryly.

  ‘I gave away all my rupees and paise in the last twenty-four hours. This sovereign is a formal payment,’ Perveen said. ‘I’ll write it up with a receipt. If you accept it, you’ll become an employee of Mistry Law.’

  Alice looked cautiously at her. ‘You can offer me a job without your father’s say?’

  ‘A temporary job as geometry consultant,’ Perveen said with a grin.

  ‘Geometry consultant? I never heard of such a thing.’

  ‘It’s the only way I can stay within the letter of the law and tell you some important things about the Farids. I just hope that what you hear doesn’t make you want to run back to England.’

  Alice shook her head. ‘The only ones with the power to put me on a boat are my parents, and you must believe I won’t divulge a word of what you’ve got to say.’

  Perveen went to the bedroom door and looked out into the hall. She could hear her mother snoring down the hallway—and Gulnaz was likely doing the same on the other side of the duplex wall. Only after Perveen had locked the door and taken Alice back out to the balcony did she tell the whole story.

  ‘I suspect the answer is in front of me, but I can’t see it,’ she said at the end. ‘It feels as if I were on the beach, staring at a swimmer out at sea. I can’t identify the black speck in the waves. Could be a man or a woman or an animal—’

  ‘From the description of the murderer’s style, I’d say animal,’ Alice said with a snort. ‘And when will it end? I’m not as confident as you seem to be that yesterday’s call came from someone trying to get you into the street for kidnapping. It could have come from a woman who’s no longer alive.’

  Perveen considered this. ‘Gulnaz said she spoke to two widows. I’m almost certain it was Sakina and Razia but not Mumtaz. What if one or both of them guessed she was pregnant?’

  ‘You haven’t yet calculated the estate payments that are due. There’s still time for someone to reduce the number of inheritors and improve her situation.’ Restlessly, Alice picked up Perveen’s mother’s pen and tapped it on the table. ‘Remind me again of who’s going to inherit what?’

  ‘Baby Jum-Jum is the largest inheritor, taking 35 per cent. The daughters each get 17.5 per cent and the widows a touch more than 4 per cent apiece. If Mumtaz’s baby survives, the distribution percentages will change.’

  Alice shook her head. ‘I feel sorry for those widows. Except for Razia-begum, who owns the land, which the other wives don’t have. Now her daughter’s missing. Revenge, perhaps?’

  ‘She might have been taken because she knows too much. Amina is such a smart little girl, and she is more outspoken than any of her elders. I’d think that we should have heard something from the relatives in Oudh if the theory about her journey was true.’ Perveen paused, feeling a stab of guilt at letting the widows keep her from sounding the alert about Amina.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Alice looked at her soberly.

  Alice could give her insight into the architectural plans, not Amina’s fate. Sighing, Perveen asked, ‘What do you make of the bungalow’s design?’

  ‘Looking at the walls and windows, it appears there’s no connection between men’s and women’s territories inside the house. But of course there must be. How else would the husband visit the wives at night?’

  Perveen explained about the brass jali door between the two sides. ‘Supposedly Mr Farid held a key. It must be somewhere.’

  Sounding pensive, Alice asked, ‘Which room did Mukri sleep in?’

  From her time observing Sub-inspector Singh, Perveen could easily remember the orientation of the hall and the room where Mr Murki appeared to have slept. She pointed to the drawing to answer Alice’s query. ‘There appear to be five other bedrooms in that section of the bungalow, but for some reason, he chose this room.’

  ‘Because he saw himself as lord and master.’ Alice studied the plans a while longer. ‘On one side of the master bedroom, it looks like the wall is quite a bit thicker than the other walls. Do you see that?’

  Perveen craned her neck. ‘It might not be a solid wall. It could be a storage area.’

  ‘It’s strange to have this construction difference on just one side of the house. Other than this, the house is extremely symmetrical,’ Alice said.

  Perveen tried to see the master bedroom again in her
mind. She was walking through it, looking around. She’d put her hand on the bathroom doorknob when Singh had stopped her from going farther. She studied the architectural drawing and recognized the bathroom and another door to its left.

  ‘That can’t be a closet,’ Alice said, following her gaze. ‘Unless it’s the only closet in the bungalow.’

  ‘Indians use almirahs to hold their clothing and other possessions,’ Perveen said. ‘Of course, there are always storerooms within a bungalow.’

  ‘But those are clearly marked as very small rooms.’ Alice traced the lines on the paper with her finger. ‘If you look at the wives’ rooms in the zenana, each of them has a door going into the same thicker exterior wall. And then, there are windows showing on the exterior wall—’

  ‘What if there’s a passage?’ Perveen interrupted. ‘The fact is, the widows’ rooms only have windows on the western side.’

  Alice stared at her. ‘I think you’re right. Looking from my own bedroom window at the bungalow, I’ve seen those small windows.’

  Perveen felt gripped by excitement. ‘A passageway gives a husband access to various bedrooms in the zenana without his going down into the main hallway and catching the notice of others. It allows discretion.’

  ‘And what about the converse?’ Using her finger, Alice mapped a reverse journey. ‘The wives could have easily gone to the other side. They could have walked over, spent the night with their husband—or, later on, Mr Mukri—and nobody else would have known.’

  ‘I don’t know that any of them would have willingly gone to Mukri,’ Perveen said with a shudder. But she could imagine any one of them using the passage to an advantage—if she intended to commit murder.

  30

  THE SECOND ACT

  Bombay, February 1921

  Perveen woke at six-thirty the next morning and was too restless to stay in bed.

  Her hip still ached slightly as she got out of bed and opened the doors to her balcony. The sky was slowly lifting its black veil. Something different was in the air: a feeling of something charged, almost electric.