Banquet on the Dead Read Online Free Page B

But some of them saw her go to the well around 12:00.’
    ‘Acha?’
    ‘Yes. There is a path leading away to the well which is in full view from the house. Three people—Kamala, Venkataramana’s wife, Lakshman, Venkataramana’s older son, and Durga, Koteshwar Rao’s wife—they all saw Kavery walking along the path towards the well. All three cite similar times. The women say twelve, and the man says five minutes to twelve.’
    ‘And nobody else came to the well at that time?’
    ‘No, nobody. Not to our knowledge, at least.’
    They turned into what looked like a small lane, along the wall. It opened into the front yard of a decrepit old shed. A big, dusty lock appeared on the door. Hamid Pasha nodded at the approaching gate, with which the compound wall ended. It was designed in the same way as the first one, with black metal grilles rising up to a height of about seven feet and a latch secured with a padlock. Just outside the gate there was a patch of land newly smoothed out with good helpings of dark-brown soil, in which green saplings had been planted at regular intervals.
    ‘Is it not strange, miyan,’ said Hamid Pasha, ‘how they are planting bean sprouts outside their gate? Why not inside, where they have so much room?’
    Nagarajan shrugged. ‘There is no real danger of stray animals here. All this land belongs to them. So they might just erect a gate over there.’ He gestured at the mouth of the lane. ‘There are always people around here too. No real danger.’
    Hamid Pasha had just begun to nod when they saw someone approach the gate from the other side. She was a small, strongly built woman in her forties, with sharp, aquiline features marred only by the round shape of her face. She walked with the heavy step of someone in pain, and her eyebrows rose as she neared them, partly in irritation, partly in curiosity.
    ‘Yes?’ She stopped a foot beyond the gate and placed her hands on her hips, looking at Nagarajan squarely in the eye. ‘Some more formalities to complete?’
    Nagarajan took off his hat and said, ‘Yes, madam. This is Hamid Pasha. He has taken an interest in this—er— situation.’
    Her gaze did not waver. ‘We need no interest, Inspector.’
    ‘He has offered to help us.’
    ‘We need no help either. What we need is for you to leave us alone.’
    Nagarajan glanced at his companion. The latter was looking at the woman with interest, stroking his beard and smiling faintly. He looked back at their host and said, ‘Doctor Koteshwar Rao asked us to come.’
    The mention of the name had no immediate effect, but there was a gradual thaw in the woman’s manner. ‘Did he? I ought to have a word with him.’ Her arms dropped from her hips. She opened the gate and let them in. Locking it behind them, she caught up and led the way.
    ‘That is the well,’ she said, pointing in the direction of the bushes on the right. ‘If you walk through the bushes you will see it.’ She half-turned and addressed Hamid Pasha: ‘Would you like to see it?’
    ‘Later, memsaab, later. You could perhaps take us first to the house?’
    She nodded and led them along the path towards the house. They passed a grimy dwelling on their left. ‘Servants’ quarters,’ the lady said. ‘The family used to live in this house before they had the big one built.’
    ‘So you came here as a child, memsaab? You played here? Grew up here?’
    The walked for a moment in silence. Then she said tersely, ‘Yes.’
    Hamid Pasha ventured, ‘It was not a happy time for you?’
    ‘What makes you say that?’
    ‘Well, usually when people talk of their childhood, they do so with fondness in their voices. But not all of us were fortunate to have happy childhoods.’
    ‘You’re wrong. I had a happy enough childhood.’
    ‘Ah, okay, then.’
    Nagarajan stole another glance at his companion. His eyes were mirthful, and he was staring at the woman’s waist.
    After a pause he asked her, ‘What is it that is wrong with