Ellis Peters - George Felse 09 - Mourning Raga (12 page)

BOOK: Ellis Peters - George Felse 09 - Mourning Raga
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So he telephoned Clark’s hotel at Benares, and by luck the unit happened to be in for lunch. The sound of Felder’s vigorous voice over the line was cheering, and the promptness of his decisions bracing.

‘Now look, you hold it right there, and I’ll be with you as soon as I can. We haven’t finished shooting, but this is an emergency, and they’ll just have to get along without me. There’s an afternoon flight, if I can get a seat on it. Don’t worry, the airlines office is right here in the hotel. You stay close to home, in case there are any messages, and I’ll come straight to you there.’

‘Messages?’ Dominic repeated, thinking hopefully of the police calling to tell him Anjli was already traced, and as good as found.

‘Well, they can’t get at
him
, if no one knows where he is, can they? And you’re the nearest available channel to Dorrie, aren’t you?’

 

Air travel comes into its own in India, where you can transport yourself at very reasonable cost from Calcutta to Gauhati, or Trivandrum to Madras, or even from Delhi to Srinagar across a minor range of the Himalayas, in roughly the time it takes to go from Birmingham to London by train. Thus it happened that Ernest Felder, having bluffed and persuaded his way into the last available seat on the afternoon plane from Benares, was in Keen’s Hotel by seven in the evening, his grey hair on end, his lined, easygoing face for once desperately grave. Over dinner, which by that time they all needed, he got them to tell him the whole story all over again, in detail, and with as much detachment as was possible in the circumstances. He didn’t exclaim, he didn’t swear, he simply listened with every nerve, helped out with a question here and there, and soothed them by the very fact of his large, zestful, intent presence and the degree of his concentration. If sheer compact energy could recover Anjli, she was as good as saved.

‘Now, let’s not get tangled with non-essentials. The facts are, someone went to a lot of trouble to get Dorrie’s girl. And there’s no reason on earth why such an elaborate plot should be laid to get her into the right place, except just plain money. Somebody knows her value. There’s a rupee millionaire of a father, and a film star mother. There’s money, and plenty of it. Right?’

They could not but agree.

‘So they now have to get in touch with all that money, in order to tap off as much of it as the traffic will stand. Right? And as we’ve said, the father is out of the picture…
unless
the kidnappers know more than we do. If they know how to get in touch with him, so much the better, that will bring him into the open, and we can all join forces. But if they don’t they’re going to be after Dorrie. But my guess would be, not directly. There are complications once you start sending messages of that kind across frontiers, from here to Europe – even if they know where to find her, and my guess is they may not, though pretty obviously they must know who and what she is. No, they’ll make their play in the safest and nearest direction. And that’s
you
! You represent Dorrie here, you’re Anjli’s temporary guardians. My bet is that you can expect instructions from whoever’s got Anjli, and pretty soon.’

‘Supposing there’s any choice,’ said Dominic firmly, ‘we can’t risk Anjli.’

‘No, I agree. Any instruction they give must be obeyed absolutely. We can’t take any chances with Dorrie’s kid. I wouldn’t with anybody’s kid, for that matter. What about this Cousin Vasudev you were talking about? You reckon they’re likely to contact him?… as kind of a tap for the family money? Family is a great thing here, they might well figure he’d pay out for her, supposing he has legal access now to the funds. Company or family. I don’t know how they’re fixed.’

Tossa and Dominic didn’t know, either. Their voices took on a certain reserve when they spoke of Cousin Vasudev.

‘Sure, I know! He stands to gain. But he could be on the level, too. And if he isn’t, it won’t do any harm to shake him up now and again, he might give something away. But whoever took the little girl knew all about that gold dollar, that’s what gets me. And this cousin of hers didn’t – or at least not from you, not until today…’

‘But he could have from Kishan Singh,’ Tossa pointed out. ‘We told him we’d come straight from there, he might very well question the house-boy afterwards, and Kishan Singh would tell a Kumar everything. From his point of view, why not?’

‘That’s true, that’s very true. Maybe a neighbour, even, could have overheard when she gave it to the old man. I don’t know, I just don’t know! All our bunch may have known all about it, from that time you telephoned for me and got Ashok, and gave him the whole story to hand on to me… but then, most of the bunch are away in Sarnath still, and have been since early the morning after you called, before Anjli was snatched.’

Dominic had laid down his fork with careful quietness. ‘
Most
?’ He met the blank, enquiring stare, and elaborated uneasily: ‘I thought you
all
were.’

‘Well, all the working unit, yes, and nearly all the players. Not Kamala, of course – Yashodhara doesn’t appear in the Deer Park scenes. This is where the sacred brotherhood line begins. No women on the scene for a while.’

‘I see.’ Dominic reflected that he should have taken time off, like Anjli, to read the book, and he might have been somewhat wiser in his assumptions. All the women left behind in Delhi! He thought for a moment, and asked without undue emphasis: ‘And Ashok?’

‘Ashok? In India you don’t ask an artist of that calibre to run around after you,
you
run after
him
. We show the rushes for Ashok, right here in Delhi, and he broods over them three or four times, and comes up with the music for the sound-track when he’s good and ready. Oh, yes, he likes to spend a good deal of time with us down at Hauz Khas, but that’s a bonus. He enjoys us. But not enough to go blundering about in Sarnath with us on the day’s grind.’

‘I see,’ said Dominic again, making more readjustments. But this picture of Ashok, on the face of it, removed him still farther from any possibility of participation in a sordid crime for gain. ‘I suppose he must be in the film star class himself, then?’

‘Just about. I know what you’re thinking of – this tune you heard the chap in the garden here whistling – but you don’t even know that it was the chap who brought the note, do you? And for goodness sake, some of the sweepers and drivers around the villas and the office could have heard Ashok playing that theme and picked it up. He meant it to be catchy. And believe me, he isn’t satisfied with one run through when he’s recording, not to mention all the practising beforehand. I shouldn’t worry too much about that. Even if you’re right about it!’ And plainly he was by no means convinced about that, and on the whole Dominic could hardly blame him. Nobody else had been convinced, either, not even Tossa.

‘Mind if I hang around with you this evening? Just in case anything happens?’

‘I wish you would!’

‘I shouldn’t have any peace if I left you to it,’ said Felder almost apologetically.

They adjourned to Dominic’s sitting-room, and waited the evening through; and no one got much rest, when it came to the point. The strain of waiting for something to happen is not conducive to conversation, and presently even monosyllables faded out. Eight o’clock passed, and nothing broke the tension. Nine o’clock, and still nothing. Half-past nine…

Felder shook his solid shoulders and sighed. ‘Nothing’s going to happen tonight, it seems. I wonder if they went for Vasudev and family loyalty, after all?’

And it was then that the telephone rang.

 

All three of them started wildly, as if a gun had been fired; all three of them came to their feet, staring at the instrument, even reaching out for it, half afraid to take the plunge. Dominic looked up over the white handset at Felder.

‘Yes,’ said Felder rapidly, ‘you take it. Hold it till I open the door, then answer it, and if it
is –
give me the sign, and I’ll slip down to the switchboard and see if it can be traced. And –
listen
! –
if
it is, talk back, hold him as long as you can, give us a chance.
And don’t miss a word he says
!’

He took a couple of quick strides backwards and opened the door of the room. Dominic lifted the receiver.

‘Hullo… Dominic Felse here.’

‘You are the gentleman who has lost some valuables,’ said a high, strident, clacking voice in his ear. ‘I have them, they can be recovered.’

Dominic’s mouth was suddenly so dry that for a minute he could not make any answer. He nodded strenuously at Felder across the room, and the big man slid noiselessly through the door he was holding open, and drew it to after him, releasing the latch slowly so that it made not a sound. In the telephone the voice crackled impatiently: ‘I know you hear me. You want your lost property back. I can provide. Of course at a proper price.’ An old voice, he thought, or at least elderly; its tone cracked when it was raised, it had no body in it, and no juice. On first bearing, either male or female; but he thought, male. He moistened his lips feverishly, and instinctively began to waste time.

‘Who is that? Are you sure you’re on the right number? This is Felse speaking, you wanted me?’

‘It is you who want me, my friend,’ said the voice, and cackled painfully in his eardrum. ‘If you want Miss Kumar, that is.’

‘How do I know you really have any information about Miss Kumar? Where are you speaking from? Who are you? How do you know anything about it?’

‘That is very well put, how do I know! How could I know, except that
I have her
? Oh, she is safe, quite safe. You want proof? Miss Kumar has American passport…’ Horrifyingly the old voice rattled off its number, the place of its issuing, the personal details of her description, and giggled unnervingly at the blank silence that ensued. ‘You can have this lady back for two hundred thousand rupees – cash.’

‘But that’s impossible… you must allow us time, at least, how can we command cash at short notice…?’ Dominic protested, feeling round the apparently empty recesses of his mind for any prevarication he could find, anything to keep the man talking; while at the same time he struggled to record every word that was said. ‘I don’t believe you have her. You could have found her handbag, or stolen it, and got hold of the passport that way. If she’s there, let her speak to me, and I’ll believe…’

The voice cut him off sharply. ‘Listen, if you want her! You get that two hundred thousand rupees, you get it in mixed notes and put it into a cheap black school bag. And on Sunday afternoon at two o’clock…’

‘Sunday?’ gasped Dominic in utter dismay. ‘But that’s only two days! How can we…’

‘… on Sunday, I say, you go, you and the woman also, to the Birla Temple. You leave your shoes with the lame boy who sits at the foot of the steps, on the right, and with your shoes the case with the money. Then you go into the temple and stay within for half an hour, not one minute less. Do not try to keep watch on your shoes, do not say one word to the police, or anyone else, if you want to see the girl again. Put on your shoes and go back to your hotel. On Sunday evening I call you again and we arrange about the child.
If
you have done as you are told.’

‘But, listen, we want to co-operate, but it’s a question of time, damn it! – You must give us longer than that…’

‘Sunday. If you want her.’ The line echoed one quavering ring, and was dead. Dominic held the receiver numbly for a moment, and then very gently cradled it. His knees gave under him, and he sat down abruptly. ‘My God, it’s impossible, we
can’t
! I don’t believe it can be done, not by cable, not even by telephone.’

‘Why?’ Tossa urged, pale and quiet. ‘What did he say? What is it he wants?’

‘Two hundred thousand rupees by Sunday.
Sunday
! Now we’ve
got
to call Dorette Lester, we’ve got no choice. But I doubt if we can get the money through by then, whatever we do… whatever
she
does!’

‘We
have
to. There has to be a way. I don’t even know,’ she said helplessly, ‘how much two hundred thousand rupees is. It sounds a fortune.’

They were still gazing at each other, stunned into silence, when the door opened, and Felder came into the room. Both tense faces turned upon him, though without much hope. He shook his head glumly.

‘A call box, somewhere central, that’s all we had time to get. Probably on Connaught Circus. One step out of the box, and he’d be a drop in the ocean. Not a chance of getting anything on him. What did he have to say?’

Dominic cleared his dry throat and told them, practically word for word. It wasn’t the sort of message he was in any danger of forgetting.

‘He didn’t give anything away… about himself? What did he sound like? I suppose,’ he added, struck by a sudden doubt, ‘it
was
a he?’

‘I think so. Yes, I’m sure. But at first I did wonder… a high-pitched, thin voice… old… No, he didn’t give a thing away. And now,’ said Dominic, ‘there’s nothing for it but to tell Miss Lester, and hope she can cable the money in time… But, damn it,
Sunday
! It won’t be a banking day here. We’ve only got tomorrow.’

‘There’s Vasudev,’ ventured Tossa dubiously. After all, they had harboured doubts about Vasudev’s cousinly solicitude. All that money, old Mrs Kumar newly dead, Satyavan, by his own design or another’s, utterly vanished, and only this little girl between Vasudev, the dutiful manager and nephew, and all those millions of rupees and that commercial empire. Even if he hadn’t got her out of the way himself, what a temptation this might be to want her kept out of the way now, to hinder, not help, any attempt to pay the ransom and recover her alive.

‘And besides,’ said Dominic flatly, as if he had followed her unspoken thoughts thus far, ‘we’ve been warned, not a word to any outsider. Maybe they haven’t realised that we’ve got Mr Felder in on the job already, but I bet they wouldn’t miss it if we went near Vasudev between now and Sunday afternoon. And we daren’t take any risks with Anjli.’

‘It won’t be necessary, anyhow,’ said Felder slowly. He sat down heavily, and his big shoulders in their immaculate tailoring sagged back into the chair as if he had suddenly grown very tired. ‘It won’t be necessary to frighten Dorrie yet, either… if all goes well, it need never be necessary, only in retrospect. We’ll put up the money, and we’ll make sure of being on time with it. As you say, we can’t take any risks with Anjli.’

BOOK: Ellis Peters - George Felse 09 - Mourning Raga
3.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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