Changing Times in Nuala, page 13
‘Shall I take a look around the back, sir?’ whispered Prasanna who had followed him. ‘Maybe I can find another way to get in.’
‘Very well. Nadar and I will wait here. Come back and tell us what you find. Be careful. I don’t want Tranter spooked.’
Prasanna vanished into the shadows and the sound of his footsteps faded. Several minutes ticked by before he reappeared. There were streaks of brick dust on his clothes and hands.
‘I think I can get into the yard at the back of the house. I found some old wooden crates to stand on and had a look over the wall. It’s a long drop to the yard but I should be able to manage it. A few of the bricks are missing and that will give me footholds.’
De Silva thought quickly. Prasanna was far younger and more agile than he was. It would be best to leave the job to him. He nodded. ‘Let’s hope Tranter’s asleep upstairs and hasn’t thought he needs to lock the back door. If you can get in, we should have a good chance of surprising him.’
Once more Prasanna’s footsteps faded, and silence descended. De Silva felt a knot of tension tighten in his stomach. A cloud drifted over the moon, and it grew darker. Something brushed against his foot, and he had to clamp his lips together to stop himself from making any noise. When the moonlight returned, he saw a rat scuttle away with a long curl of something that looked like potato peel in its mouth.
It seemed an eternity before he heard the rasp of bolts being drawn back. The door opened and Prasanna stood there.
De Silva grinned. ‘Well done,’ he whispered, then recoiled as Prasanna’s face contorted and he pitched forward. One hand clutched his shoulder and blood oozed from between his fingers. De Silva didn’t have time to pull out his gun before a man erupted from the dark house and leapt over Prasanna’s prostrate form. With surprising agility, he delivered a hefty punch right between de Silva’s eyes, knocking him backwards, and then shot away down the street.
‘Don’t worry, sir, I’ll catch him,’ shouted Nadar.
His breath rattling in his throat and his head muzzy, de Silva managed to straighten up to see his constable pelting after the assailant. He was accompanied by two young men de Silva didn’t recognise, but the open door of the lookout house suggested they had run out from there. He took a step forward, intending to follow, but his strength had deserted him. He decided to leave the pursuit to younger men and went to help Prasanna who was slumped in the doorway groaning.
Chapter 12
‘I thought I told you to be careful,’ said Jane when de Silva telephoned her from the hospital at Hatton.
‘You did, but our Mr Tranter had other ideas.’ De Silva gave his forehead an exploratory pat and winced. It still hurt where Tranter had hit him. ‘I feel as if a tree’s worth of coconuts landed on me.’
‘Oh, Shanti. Has anyone examined you?’
‘Yes, one of the doctors here. He told me the blow hasn’t caused any serious damage and I’ll be right as rain in no time. David Hebden turned up and said much the same but none of them know the pain I’m in,’ he grumbled.
‘Poor you. And it’s a mercy that Prasanna wasn’t more seriously injured.’
‘Yes, at least we have that to be thankful for. They’ve stitched up his shoulder and he’s not in any danger, but they want to keep an eye on him for a few days, to be sure infection doesn’t set in. He’ll need time off work.’
‘Presumably, you didn’t object.’
‘Of course not.’
‘Have you told Archie what’s happened?’
‘Yes, I telephoned him from the hospital.’ Archie had taken being called so late better than he had expected and also offered to tell Guy Richardson about the delay. ‘We agreed it’s too soon to understand what bearing it has on the case, but at least we have Tranter now. He’s locked up at the station with Nadar watching him, on a charge of attacking a police officer, but I haven’t had the chance to question him, and I need a few hours’ sleep before I do anything else.’
‘Hardly surprising with so much going on. Are you still going to the Wyndhams’ plantation?’
‘Yes, despite the fact we have to set off later than planned, the trip is still on for today.’
Jane laughed. ‘I know Archie’s a stickler for punctuality but in the circumstances, I’m sure even he understands. When do you need me to be ready?’
‘When do I what?’
‘You heard me, dear. If Emerald’s coming, I am too. She’ll be terribly disappointed if we don’t find Venetia and I want to support her. Anyway, do you really think I’d let you go without me after the night you’ve had? Don’t worry about Archie,’ she added airily. ‘I’ll handle him.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely certain.’
‘We can’t set off until he finishes a lunchtime meeting that he has to attend. If we’d been able to keep to the original plan of leaving at six, he would have stayed for as long as possible before returning to Nuala for it. Unfortunately, it means we may end up having to drive back in the dark.’
‘How will you get home after your sleep? Shall I drive down and pick you up?’
‘That’s a kind thought but Hebden’s already offered to take me to where I left the Morris in town. I hope to be back for a late breakfast.’
***
When de Silva arrived at Sunnybank, he ate a substantial meal that did duty for breakfast and lunch. At least the blow on the head hadn’t taken away his appetite. Jane, who had spoken with Archie and got her way far more easily than she had expected to, left him on the verandah drinking a cup of tea and went to change out of her day dress into something more suited to the expedition on which they were about to embark. Whilst she was gone, a secretary telephoned from the Residence to confirm that Archie would be ready at two o’clock.
Jane returned sporting a pair of beige cotton trousers and a white blouse. The tea that de Silva had just taken a mouthful of went down the wrong way and he spluttered.
‘What’s the matter?’
De Silva coughed then recovered. ‘Nothing. It’s just that I’ve never seen you wear trousers.’
Jane made a face. ‘I believe lots of women wore them in the war. When they were working on farms and in factories, for example. Emerald persuaded me to buy a pair a while ago. She said they were so comfortable and practical. Isn’t that a good enough reason?’
‘Certainly it is, but it will take me time to get used to it.’
Jane laughed. ‘I’ll admit to you now that I’ve had them for several months and not plucked up the courage to wear them, but this seemed a suitable occasion.’
De Silva drained the last of his tea. ‘Right, if we’re to be at the Residence at two o’clock, we’d better be on our way.’
***
There was no sign of the brass band, and the Union Jack hung limply from the flagpole. De Silva and Jane went up to the front door and he knocked just as the Hebdens’ car arrived. When they got out, to his amusement de Silva noticed that Emerald was also wearing trousers. He wondered if they would encounter Florence, and if so, what her reaction would be.
He didn’t have to wait long for his curiosity to be satisfied. There was the purr of another engine and the Residence’s stately official Bentley came into view. De Silva glimpsed Florence seated in the back. In the front, a uniformed servant sat next to the chauffeur. When the car drew to a halt, he jumped out and went to open the passenger door. Florence emerged dressed in a pink flowery frock and a broad-brimmed fuchsia pink hat decorated with a bunch of artificial roses. De Silva saw her expression register surprise tinged with disapproval.
‘How very modern your outfits are, my dears,’ she said to Emerald and Jane. ‘Wherever are you going?’
But before they had time to answer, Archie appeared from the house with Lady trotting at his heels. He waved and came over to them. ‘Right, we’re all here except for Guy Richardson.’
‘Archie?’ Florence looked at him sternly.
Archie glanced at the chauffeur and servant awaiting instructions, no doubt curious to hear what he would say. ‘How was your shopping trip, my dear?’ he asked awkwardly.
‘Exhausting. It was much too hot in Hatton, and I didn’t find any of the things I went for.’
‘Oh dear, bad show.’
Florence’s eyes narrowed as he nodded to the chauffeur and the servant. ‘Put the Bentley in the garage and take the memsahib’s parcels into the house.’
The two men got back into the car, and it moved away.
‘Archie!’ Florence repeated, in a more commanding tone. ‘I insist on knowing what’s going on.’
Archie looked a little sheepish. ‘De Silva has an idea about where Venetia MacDonald might be found. We’re going to see if he’s on the right track. Why don’t you explain, de Silva? My wife knows about Elspeth MacDonald’s accusations, but I haven’t had time to tell her about the latest developments.’
De Silva proceeded to explain, finishing with the jeep that he’d seen at the Waverley plantation.
‘In a roundabout way, it was thanks to Guy Richardson that de Silva made a connection to the plantation that old Giles Wyndham tried and failed to make a go of,’ said Archie when de Silva paused. ‘Guy mentioned it in that wildlife column he writes for the Nuala Times.’
De Silva waited for Florence to pour scorn on his idea but to his relief, her tone changed. ‘Do you know, Inspector, shocking as the idea of Elspeth and her brother abducting Venetia is, I think you may have hit on something. And I remember the Wyndhams. It must be twenty years since they gave up their business and went home to England, but before that, they and the MacDonalds were part of the same social circle. Rumour had it that their eldest son might even propose to Elspeth, but in the end, he went back to England with the rest of the family. I’ve never had a great deal of sympathy for Elspeth. She’s always been rather prickly, but I did feel sorry for her then. It must have been a great disappointment when James Wyndham left Nuala. In any case, I believe you can be sure that Elspeth and Douglas know where the plantation is. At one time they were probably regular guests.’
Her remarks allayed a concern that had been troubling de Silva. It was good to know that Elspeth and Douglas would have a reason to choose the Wyndham plantation.
Archie looked at his watch. ‘I told Guy two o’clock. Ah, here he is.’ He raised a hand and beckoned brusquely to Guy who had just come out of the house. Like his boss and David Hebden he was dressed in a khaki shirt and knee-length shorts with thick woollen socks and sturdy boots. He hurried over to the group, and Lady bounced forward to greet him.
‘Sorry, sir, unavoidably detained.’
Archie grunted. ‘We’re taking the shooting brakes. Best thing if we encounter obstacles. You go in front with de Silva and Jane, Guy. The rest of us will follow you.’
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of soft white fabric. When he held it up, de Silva saw it was a lady’s glove. ‘I sent one of the servants up to Waverley to fetch this. It belongs to Venetia. Her maid confirmed she wore the gloves recently and they haven’t been laundered. I thought it might help us to have something with her scent on it. We’ll see if Lady can sniff out our quarry. It will be good practice for her.’
***
Guy Richardson proved to be a speedy but excellent driver and keen to talk about what was clearly his passion for the flora and fauna of Ceylon, describing numerous off the beaten track expeditions that he had made and the creatures he had seen. He had found out about the possibility of seeing interesting specimens at the Wyndhams’ plantation from an old field guide he’d borrowed from the Residence’s library.
‘We’re making good time,’ he said as he turned onto a narrower road marked only by an illegible, broken-down sign. ‘When I estimated how long the journey would take, I forgot to allow for the fact that it was dark when I drove here on my own. It wasn’t easy to see if there were any hazards, so I had to drive more slowly.’
The road narrowed again as high banks, dense with trees and tangled undergrowth, rose up on either side. Today it was dry, but there was evidence of a recent mudslide. De Silva understood why the jeep had been so dirty. Guy slowed down as the shooting brake bumped awkwardly along. ‘I’m sorry it’s not very comfortable,’ he shouted cheerfully over the noise of the protesting engine. ‘Not much further to go now.’
They turned a corner, and the bungalow and its outbuildings lay before them. Most of the roofs had fallen in leaving blackened skeletons of beams through which sprouted young trees and other vegetation. At the windows, shutters with flaking green paint hung askew from broken hinges. What was left of the verandah that ran across the front of the bungalow had almost disappeared under a thick tangle of greenery. The steps leading up to it were festooned with luxuriant creepers. De Silva studied the scene with mounting dismay. He hoped there was another entrance. If not, it was impossible to see how anyone could have got into the bungalow.
Guy brought the shooting brake to a halt and Archie drew up alongside. ‘Sad to see the place in such a bad state,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid Wyndham didn’t have much of a head for business, and this is the result.’
Emerald looked around her and shivered. ‘What an awful place.’
Hebden squeezed her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, if Venetia’s here, she won’t have to put up with it for much longer.’
Archie lifted up the back of the shooting brake and Lady jumped down. ‘Good girl,’ he said encouragingly and held out Venetia’s glove for her to sniff. Tail wagging, she buried her damp, black nose in it then after a moment trotted away, nose now firmly fixed to the ground. Archie beamed. ‘She’s got the scent. Off we go.’
After a brief exploration around the bottom of the steps leading up to the verandah, Lady continued along the front wall. Where it ended, she raised her head and gave a bark then disappeared around the corner. The group hurried after her. Soon they found themselves at a place where a narrow gap in the undergrowth led to a door. Barking loudly now, Lady pawed at the base of it.
Guy leaned over her and tried the handle. ‘It’s locked, but the wood looks fairly rotten. I think I can get it open. I’ve a bag of tools in the shooting brake. I’ll fetch it.’
‘Stand back everyone,’ boomed Archie when Guy returned. ‘Give him some room. Lady! Here, girl.’ Lady, who had remained at the door wagging her tail and whining, trotted to his side. He put a hand on her collar.
Guy produced a tyre iron from the tool bag and slid it into the gap at the bottom of the door where the wood was rottener than elsewhere. Vigorously, he worked the iron up the gap until he reached the lock then he picked up a hammer. After a series of hefty blows, the lock gave way, and the door opened.
Lady broke free from Archie’s grasp and dashed inside barking again. The rest of them followed her through a series of damp, musty rooms that looked as if they had been used for household storage, emerging into a larger, shabby room that appeared to have been part of the servants’ quarters. Stains disfigured the walls, and a large portion of the ceiling had collapsed. An electric cable dangled from a beam, and on the ground below it a tarnished copper strip light lay in a twinkling pool of broken glass.
Archie held Lady’s collar. ‘Steady, girl, we don’t want you cutting your paws. Careful where you step, everyone.’
They skirted around the broken glass then Archie released Lady, who rushed to the bottom of a bare wooden staircase and bounded up it. De Silva heard the faint sound of someone calling for help.
‘I think we’ve found her,’ said Archie triumphantly.
On the gloomy landing at the top of the stairs, three doors confronted the party. Lady pawed at one of them, barking excitedly.
‘This one’s locked too,’ said Guy. ‘But the wood’s thin. A few good kicks should get it open.’
Emerald grabbed his arm. ‘Please be careful.’
‘I will.’ He put his mouth to the door. ‘Mrs MacDonald? Are you in there? I’m going to break the door down, please keep as far back as you can.’
They waited a moment. De Silva thought he heard a voice say “yes”.
‘It’s Venetia, I’m sure of it,’ said Emerald.
Guy aimed a kick and then another. On the fourth attempt, the door gave way.
As de Silva peered into the tiny, ill-lit room, a sour smell rolled towards him. It was insufferably hot. There was an iron bedstead with a dirty mattress and huddled on the floor next to it, Venetia MacDonald. Her dress was torn, and her hair tangled. Emerald gave a gasp of horror and rushed to crouch beside her. ‘Venetia, darling. Thank heavens we’ve found you.’
Shakily, Venetia put her arms around her friend’s neck and began to cry. ‘I thought it was him coming back again but when I heard barking, I began to hope. I know he doesn’t have a dog.’
‘Who, darling?’
‘Douglas, William’s brother. He brought me here.’
Hebden put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. ‘Let me examine her, Emerald. There’ll be plenty of time for questions later.’
‘Come and stand with me, Emerald,’ said Jane, reaching out a hand.
Hebden knelt down beside Venetia. ‘You’re safe now. We’ll soon have you out of here.’ He felt her pulse. There were sores on her wrists. ‘Were you tied up?’
‘Yes, for a while.’
‘I have some antiseptic that will deal with these sores but what you need most is fluid. Do you remember when you last had any food or water?’
‘He came back to bring me some, but I’m not sure when. So little light comes through the window that it’s been hard to know whether it’s day or night.’
‘Let’s get you out into the fresh air. Do you think you can walk?’
‘I’ll try.’
Hebden stood up and helped her to her feet. ‘Here, put your arm around my shoulder. Guy, you take the other side.’ Between them they helped Venetia to the landing but there she slumped. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t go any further,’ she said, her eyes closing.
‘I’ll find something we can use as a stretcher,’ said Guy. ‘I think there’s a tarpaulin in the shooting brake.’
