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His voice when he spoke was so soft she had to lean slightly towards him to hear what he said.

‘Shah mat?’

‘Shah mat. Though I think I prefer the English saying: “The King is dead. Long live the King.” She smiled. She seemed amused. ‘It always pays to look to the future, Commander.’

‘Perhaps that is all one can do when the past is full of dishonour and death. . and guilt!’

She was unable to meet his scorching gaze and stood, motionless, until he stepped aside and released her to flow on down the corridor.

‘Now what the hell was that all about?’ muttered Edgar.

The doctor at that moment was ushered into the staterooms and Edgar and Joe were left to wait outside in the courtyard.

‘And why is Third Her Highness got up in that outfit, do you suppose?’ he persisted, with an anxious look at the guards to ascertain they were out of earshot. ‘Are you going to tell me what on earth was the meaning of all that gibberish? Whatever you said, it certainly took the wind out of her sails!’

‘An accusation of murder usually has that effect,’ said Joe.

‘Murder? Shubhada?’ Edgar whispered, disbelieving. ‘Are you barmy? Who’s she supposed to have murdered? Not. .?’

‘Yes. It sickens me to say it but yes. Bahadur.’

‘Then you are barmy! She of all people needed the boy alive, you idiot! She was going to be regent — years of power ahead of her to establish herself. Who knows,’ his voice reached a new depth, unwilling to hear himself pointing a finger at Udai’s wife, ‘perhaps she had it in mind to milk the treasury? She’s got expensive tastes. It has occurred to me that she mightn’t have balked at helping herself to the goodies.’

Joe nodded. ‘And those aren’t the only goodies she was planning to help herself to, if I’ve got it right.’

Edgar considered. ‘You’ve lost me, old chap.’

‘The Resident.’

‘Don’t follow. Claude’s the other key-holder, so to speak. Are you saying she was planning on suborning her coregent?’

‘Not suborning. Seducing, more like.’

Edgar whistled under his breath. ‘You can’t mean. .’

‘Yes. She’s in love with him. If they haven’t already embarked on a liaison, it’s certainly on the cards. Part of the lady’s look towards the future.’

‘Absolute nonsense!’ Edgar tried to splutter quietly. ‘Total fantasy! Why, I’d have sworn she doesn’t even like him. . Good God, man! You’ve got me gossiping like you. . just like two old maids at a Simla tea-party! What possible evidence do you have for such a scurrilous suggestion?’

Joe sighed. ‘None you would accept, Edgar. A boat on a lake. . a trace of perfume in the air. . what indeed?’ He shook his head. ‘It does sound mad but, believe me, I’d place no weight on mere glancing suspicions if they weren’t themselves given strength by the circumstances of Bahadur’s death. Listen! Claude works (till all hours according to the memsahib) in a bungalow down by the lake.’

Edgar nodded.

‘A short way along the shore is Shubhada’s secluded pavilion, staffed by her discreet and devoted servants. She has a boat. We actually saw her being ferried about on the lake when we visited Colin. Where had she been?’

‘Fishing of course!’ said Edgar. ‘We all understand she’s a keen fisherman but you’re saying it’s not just lake trout she’s got her hooks into?’

‘No proof at all — I’m just asking you to follow a trail and see where it leads. I’m talking about possibilities. I don’t know how this intrigue — let’s call it that, shall we? — started or who started it.’

‘Well, a royal Indian female would not be Claude’s natural prey, no matter how hungry, if you understand me. Way beyond his reach. Inviolate!’

‘Yes, I would agree with that,’ said Joe, ‘were it not for the fact that this would not be the first, nor the hundredth, not even the thousandth love affair between an Indian and a European. And Cupid’s been known to scatter his darts a little carelessly sometimes. But I take your point. I don’t think Claude would have set out to ensnare Shubhada. Charm, perhaps, but not ensnare. It was most probably started on Shubhada’s initiative or it was a simultaneous coup de foudre — the words do feature in her vocabulary. She grew up in the West — must have absorbed the usual romantic notions. May even have read Monthly Moonshine Magazine under the covers in her Brighton dormitory. And, let’s admit it, shall we — though I’m sure it annoys us both — Claude’s an attractive chap.’

Edgar’s lip curled in distaste but Joe persisted. ‘No, come on! I can imagine a girl being struck by a thunderbolt at the sight of him. Anyway — let’s say they start on an after-hours association. . Lois gets fretful. “Do you have to work so late, Claude? And what’s that strange smell?” Can you imagine?’

Joe told Edgar about the French perfume. ‘A very memorable scent,’ he concluded.

Edgar was intrigued. ‘So — he gives a bottle of the same stuff to his wife, and whichever girl he’s been necking — as Stuart would say — he comes up smelling of Shalimar, so that’s all right!’ said Edgar. ‘Hah! There’s chaps in Simla would thank you for the tip! And with the maharaja dead and the pair of them made co-regents they can get their hands on power, money and each other! Very well. All that I can imagine — because I have a lively imagination — but what I can’t accept is that, on the brink of this good fortune, Shubhada would throw everything away by killing Bahadur. Without him she has nothing.’

He fell silent and then said quietly, ‘And there’s the rub. You can’t get around or past that, can you, Joe?’

‘You’re right, Edgar. There’s something missing. . something I haven’t seen. A piece of this jigsaw’s fallen on the floor and no one’s noticed. But it doesn’t stop us building up the rest of the picture.’

Doggedly, he went on, ‘She didn’t do it alone, you know.’

‘Claude? I had wondered.’

‘I think he did the killing. As soon as everyone was installed on their machan I think Claude came down to the thicket. Shubhada found a way of getting Bahadur to climb down. May even have told him to take the opportunity of having a last pee in a nanny-ish sort of way. While she takes the baghnakh out of her gun case — it didn’t travel with the other luggage, she kept it with her all the time — and throws it down, Bahadur goes or is dragged into the thicket. He has time to cry out once and attempts to draw his revolver. No good against tiger but it would have stopped Claude in his tracks if only he’d been faster. Claude kills him. A quick stab and then he rakes over the small exit wound with the claws.’

Joe hesitated for a moment, ordering his thoughts. ‘And this is what chills the blood, Edgar — he took the precaution of pressing the device into the ground a few times to create spoor in case anyone should be looking, so when Hector examined the wound. .’ Joe’s voice trailed away.

‘He found bits of sand and grass? Nothing if not thorough, the Resident.’

‘As you say. Then the baghnakh and the knife disappear back into the gun case and Claude goes back to his tree. He shoots and misses the tigress to establish that he’s there in position and the hunt progresses. As soon as she hears the all clear, Shubhada starts to whistle and when we come bursting in we see Claude, bloodstained, dishevelled and distraught. And every reason to be.’

‘Distraught yes. But calculatedly so,’ said Edgar. ‘Remember the mad way he went for Ajit? Makes sense now. He was establishing in our minds the assertion that Ajit had been away from his machan or failing to shoot at the vital time. Spreading suspicion of neglect. It would have worked.’

‘It was meticulously worked out,’ said Joe thoughtfully, ‘and yet. . and yet. . it could all have gone desperately wrong. How thrilled and surprised they must have been when a second tiger strolled on-stage unexpectedly. Played right into their hands!’