Flood of Fire (23 page)

The colour drained from Zachary's face and his voice fell to a whisper. ‘But surely,' he pleaded, ‘surely you would not tell him?'

‘Well that remains to be seen,' said Mrs Burnham briskly. ‘But you should know, in any case, that if Dr Allgood were in my place you would be required to do much more than merely answer questions.'

‘What do you mean?' said Zachary, shrinking fearfully into the armchair. ‘What else could he want?'

‘He would consider it necessary also to examine the … the site of your affliction.'

‘What?' Zachary looked at her in appalled horror. ‘Surely you do not mean …?'

She nodded firmly. ‘Yes, Mr Reid. Dr Allgood believes that examinations are imperative in such cases. I will not flinch from disclosing to you that his journals contain many detailed measurements and drawings of a certain element of the male anatomy.' She gave a little sniff and straightened her turban: ‘You too would probably be required to sit for a portrait, if you know what I mean.'

‘God damn my eyes!' gasped Zachary. ‘Has the man no shame?'

‘Oh come, Mr Reid,' she said. ‘Surely you would not expect a doctor to treat a disease without examining its lesions, would you? And if you are gubbrowed by the thought of being sketched and measured for posterity, then you should know that these are by no means the most intrusive of the doctor's methods.'

A shiver went through Zachary: ‘What else then?'

‘When necessary the doctor also makes surgical incisions to prevent the recurrence of the seizures.' ‘No!'

‘Yes indeed,' she continued. ‘In particularly recalcitrant cases, he even inserts a pin into the prepuce. He says that a great many lunatics have been cured by these devices.'

‘Geekus crow!' Squirming in his seat, Zachary crossed his legs into a protective knot. ‘Has the man no mercy?'

Mrs Burnham smiled grimly. ‘You see, Mr Reid, you have good reason to be grateful that it is I and not Dr Allgood who is conducting this interview. It should be amply evident to you that your best course is to provide frank and honest answers to my questions.'

The peremptoriness of her manner fanned the winds of mutiny that were stirring inside Zachary. He jumped to his feet. ‘No, madam!' he cried. ‘This interrogation is utterly iniquitous and I will not submit to it. I bid you good night.'

He strode to the door and was about to open it when Mrs Burnham's voice forced him to halt, in mid-stride. ‘You should know, Mr Reid,' she said, in sharp, ringing tones, ‘that in the event of your refusing treatment I will be compelled to disclose to Dr Allgood all that I know of your condition. And I do not doubt that when he hears of the incident at the ball, he, in turn, will deem it necessary to inform the relevant authorities.'

Zachary spun around. ‘You mean you'll go to the police?'

‘So I will if necessary.'

‘But that is utterly monstrous, madam!'

‘To the contrary,' said Mrs Burnham, ‘it is a great deal less monstrous than the manner in which my modesty was outraged, at the ball, and in my sewing room. Are you not forgetting, Mr Reid, that I am the victim in this? Would I not be failing in my duty towards my sex if I did not exert myself to make sure that no other woman suffers such outrages? Is it not a matter of public safety?'

Shifting his weight from one foot to another, Zachary drew his sleeve across his face, which was now beaded with sweat.

Mrs Burnham was quick to seize on his hesitation. ‘It is wise of you to reconsider, Mr Reid,' she continued. ‘If you give a moment's
thought to the courses that are open to you I think you will perceive that your best option is to answer my questions. And it is all for your own good after all.'

Zachary's shoulders sagged, as though his chest had been suddenly emptied of air. Dragging his feet slowly across the rug, he returned to the armchair and poured himself some more brandy.

‘So what else do you want to know, Mrs Burnham?'

*

Kesri was not in the lead on the day when the Pacheesi finally completed its march back to Rangpur, where its Assam base was located. He and his company were assigned to rearguard duty that day, which meant that they did not get on the road until the tents were struck and the magazine was loaded on to carts and mules – and even then they had to march slowly in order to keep pace with the hackery carts that were carrying the sick and the wounded. The carts stopped frequently to allow the physick-coolies to tend to their patients; and at each halt Kesri and his company had to mount guard to protect them from looters and dacoits.

Marches were usually so timed that they ended before the full heat of the day. But only the forward parts of the column benefited from this – the rearguard often had to be on the road at the very hottest time of day. Baked by the afternoon sun, the iron frames of the sepoys' armoured topees became so hot that it was as if they were carrying boiling cauldrons on their heads.

The march was even harder on Kesri than the others since he was the oldest among them – some of the younger men were less than half his age, and none of them had to carry so large a burden of old scars and wounds. Out of consideration for himself he ordered a long rest after the mid-day meal, so that they could wait out the heat. To get everyone moving again took longer than he had expected so that it was almost sunset before the hackery carts were back on the road. By the time the lights of the Rangpur camp came into view it was late at night and Kesri's koortee was soaked in sweat; a thick layer of dust had settled on the wet cloth, clinging to it like plaster.

A mile from the base, Pagla-baba materialized suddenly out of the darkness. Kesri! he cried, tugging at his arm. You have to hurry – the subedar wants you, right now!

Why?

I don't know, but you have to go to his tent ekdum jaldi. He's got many other afsars with him – jamadars, havildars, naiks.

How many?

Nine or ten.

The number startled Kesri. It was very unusual for so many sepoy-afsars to assemble in one place, either in a cantonment or a camp: large meetings were expressly forbidden by the British officers, who believed such gatherings to be conducive to conspiracies and mutiny. A meeting could only be held with the approval of the adjutant; permission was very rarely granted, and then too, only for matters relating to family and caste. It was almost unheard of for such a meeting to be held so late at night.

Pagla-baba knew exactly what was going through Kesri's head.

The subedar has taken permission from the adjutant-sah'b, he said. It must be some kind of family business; only the subedarsah'b's closest relatives have been asked to attend. They are meeting with some visitors who have come all the way from their village, near Ghazipur.

Do you know who the visitors are?

I know only one of them, said Pagla-baba. He's related to you – Hukam Singh's brother.

Chandan Singh?

Yes. Isn't he your sister Deeti's brother-in-law?

That's right. What's he doing here?

I don't know, Kesri – but you'd better hurry!

Mrs Burnham glanced at her notes: ‘You will remember, Mr Reid, that I had asked you if you could recall when the symptoms of the disease first appeared.'

Zachary drained his brandy and poured himself another: ‘I was twelve or thirteen I guess.'

‘And did the symptoms manifest themselves spontaneously? Or was the infection transmitted by another victim?'

Zachary swallowed a mouthful of brandy. ‘My friend Tommy showed me.'

Mrs Burnham's pencil flew across the notebook. When it came to a stop she cleared her throat. ‘And may I ask, Mr Reid, if you
are a stranger to that … that act which Divine Providence has intended to be consecrated to the purposes of procreation?'

Zachary cleared his throat. ‘If you're asking whether I've ever been with a woman, the answer is yes.'

‘And how old were you, may I ask, when you were first intimate with a woman?'

He tossed off his brandy and poured more, for both of them. ‘Maybe sixteen?'

‘And who was she?'

‘A ladybird, if you must know.'

‘You mean … a woman of the streets?'

He gave a derisive snort. ‘More like a woman of the house – a bawdy-house, that is.'

‘And have you visited those often, Mr Reid?'

‘Four or five times – I'm not sure.'

‘I see.' She paused to take a deep breath. ‘And are those the only women with whom you have … fornicated?'

‘Yes.'

‘Mr Reid.' She cleared her throat and took a sip of brandy. ‘Mr Reid – it is really important that you be candid with me.'

He raised his eyebrows. ‘I don't understand what you mean, Mrs Burnham. I have been as candid with you as it is possible to be.'

She frowned in reproof. ‘Mr Reid – I know that is not true.'

He answered with an angry glare. ‘How can you possibly say that? You don't know nothin about me.'

‘Please, Mr Reid,' she persisted. ‘I urge you to reflect and to be frank with me. Were I to ask if you had ever seduced and compromised a young, innocent girl, would you be able to deny it, in good conscience?'

‘Yes, you're darn right I would,' Zachary shot back. ‘I've never done nothin of that kind.'

‘But I happen to know otherwise, Mr Reid. I know for a fact that you have ravished at least one unfortunate young woman.'

This incensed him. ‘It is not a fact, Mrs Burnham, because it ain true! I never ravished no one.'

‘But what if I were to inform you, Mr Reid, that it was from the victim herself that I learnt of this? And in this very room at that.'

‘I tell you there is no victim!' Zachary cried. ‘I don't know who you could be thinking of.'

Looking steadily into his eyes, Mrs Burnham said: ‘Paulette Lambert. Can you deny that you have seduced and violated that sweet innocent girl?'

Zachary's mouth fell open and he stared at her in disbelief, temporarily bereft of words. ‘That's impossible,' he spluttered. ‘Paulette could not have said anything like that. It's not possible.'

‘But she did. I heard it from her own lips. In this very room.'

‘And what exactly did she say?'

‘I will tell you, Mr Reid: it happened last year, when Paulette was living with us. I had summoned her here in order to inform her that Mr Justice Kendalbushe was desirous of suing for her hand in marriage. I will not conceal from you that I was eager for her to accept. I had grown exceedingly fond of Paulette in the short time that she spent with us. I knew that if she accepted the judge's offer she would remain nearby, and the tender companionship that she and I had come to enjoy would be preserved and prolonged. But it was not to be: despite all my dumbcowings Paulette was adamant in her refusal – so much so that my suspicions were aroused. I asked if she had lost her heart to another. She did not deny it, so I asked if the chuckeroo in question was you – and again she did not deny it. My suspicions were further inflamed by this, so I asked if she had compromised herself with you. Again she did not deny it: to the contrary she confirmed to me that she was … with child!'

‘Impossible,' protested Zachary. ‘Mrs Burhnam, I am not a stranger to the act of procreation, as I have said, and I can assure you that nothing like that transpired between Paulette and me.'

‘I am sorry, Mr Reid,' she retorted, ‘but I am sure you will admit that it is impossible to give any credence to the word of someone such as yourself, a chokra of acknowledged lewdness, who thinks nothing of “polishing the pin” in full view of the riverfront – a man so lacking in self-control as to be aroused, in a public place, by a woman who is almost twice his age!'

‘Oh come, Mrs Burnham,' he said weakly. ‘Surely you are not twice my age?'

‘If I were three times your age, I doubt that it would make any
difference to a budmash as wayward as yourself!' Mrs Burnham's voice rose: ‘Let me tell you, Mr Reid, that from the day Paulette ran away from this house I knew that you were to blame for her disappearance. I did not doubt for a minute that she had run off to give birth to your bastard child. If I have not revealed this to anyone, even my own husband, it is because I did not wish to add to her shame – but you may be sure that I did not intend for it to pass without retribution either. From the day you arrived here I have been determined to make you see the error of your ways, and to make restitution for what you have done to Paulette.'

Mrs Burnham's manner had grown increasingly heated as she was speaking and two bright spots of colour had appeared on her cheeks. The fraying of her composure had a strangely calming effect on Zachary, and when she fell silent he took a moment or two to think of how best to persuade her of the absolute groundlessness of her conjectures.

‘You are certainly right about one thing, Mrs Burnham,' he said at length, in a level tone. ‘It is true that I felt very powerfully drawn to Paulette, from the moment of our first meeting, on the
Ibis
, last year. But we were alone together only a couple of times and all our meetings ended badly, with quarrels and arguments. And yes, once there was a kiss, but that was all. I even asked her to marry me one time, but she wouldn't hear of it. As for being seduced or compromised by me, that would be laughable if it were not offensive. She was never in the least danger of that. If she was with child, it certainly wasn't because of me …'

Here, suddenly, a thought occurred to him that made the words wither on his lips.

He sat back and looked up at the ceiling, fingering his chin, as ideas and possibilities raced through his mind.

‘What is it, Mr Reid?'

Lowering his gaze, he saw that she had put her notebook aside and was leaning forward in her chair, watching him with an expression of the most intense curiosity. This sent a thrill of satisfaction through him; it was as if there had been a sudden shift in the balance between them, as happens on a ship at the change of watch, when the powers of command are transferred from one officer to another.