‘Karim? Get in here!’
‘I’m here, Sahib.’
Karim appeared beside me, his face expressionless, his eyes flickering around the room. He sniffed, dragging in air like a bloodhound.
‘Sahib! That odour—’
‘Yes.’ My eyes swept across the floor—and halted. Kneeling, I snatched up the rag off the carpet and held it to my face, sniffing. Instantly, I started to sway.
‘Sahib!’
I tore the rag away. ‘It’s all right, Karim!’ I ground out. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t in the least. Chloroform!
A strong hand gripped my shoulder. ‘Are you all right, Sahib?’
‘The maid!’ Shrugging off his hand, I straightened and peered into the corners of the room. ‘Where is she?’
Both mine and Karim’s eyes were drawn to the stinking rag in my hand. My fingers clenched around it, balling up into a fist.
‘Bhens ki aulaad!’[23] Karim cursed.
‘Find that maid!’ My words were ice and steel and death, all melded into one single weapon. ‘Find that maid, and make her rue the day she was born.’
‘As you command, Sahib.’ Striding to the door, Karim tore it open—then hesitated. ‘And what are you going to do, Sahib?’
My fingers clenched even more tightly around the stinking cloth in my hand. The cloth that, not-so long ago, had been pressed to the face of…
No. Don’t think. Act!
‘I’m going after her!’
When I stormed into the entrance hall twenty-seven seconds later, my mother and my sister wer
e both waiting for me. Words were coming out of my mother’s mouth. Meaningless words. What was she saying?
‘Listen, Rick. I’m really starting to get worried. You’re always working, always rushing around, never stopping a minute to relax or talk to—’
Dashing past her, I kicked open the front door, and marched outside.
‘Well,’ I heard my little sister’s voice from behind. ‘That was a scintillating conversation, wasn’t it? I can hardly wait till the next time we sit down as a family and—’
That was when the front door fell shut behind me.
‘Renshaw!’ I bellowed. ‘To me! Now!’
The man in question dashed out from behind a nearby bush. A bush from behind which he had been standing guard—without noticing a thing!
Strangulation is not the best solution. Strangulation is not the best solution.
‘Where are the reinforcements I requested?’ I growled.
Renshaw straightened. ‘Only half a day’s ride or so away, Mr Ambrose, Sir. I got a message from Perkins yesterday, saying that—’
‘Forget the letter! Get someone on the fastest horse in the stables and send them to meet Perkins. He is to get his posterior here yesterday, understood?’
‘Yes, Sir! Of course, Sir! But…’ He cleared his throat. ‘What if your father’s stable master isn’t amenable to our taking the animal?’
‘You are familiar with the hole at the back of the stable? The one through which the stable hands shovel dung onto the dung heap?’