Chapter 21-

Two Minutes in the Gun-room

It had been too easy.

No murder could have been easier; no murder more toolproof. The elephant god had obliged, the victim himself had no doubt assisted considerably by sitting up fully exposed right on top of the fallen tree, the faulty cartridges had done their part of the work.

The murderer was lying in bed, nursing a twisted ankle and read- ing the magazine Men Only, at least five miles away from the scene of the crime.

Of course, no one would ever know precisely what had happened in the opening where the hill path joined the Koyna valley, but itwas not difficult to guess. Eddie had gone after the elephant, and he was ready and waiting on the dry, fallen tree at first light. The elephant god had come, just as scheduled, and had headed for the Scarecrow Henry had put up. And it was when he was busy with Henry's jacket that Eddie must have brought up the rifle to his shoulder and tried to take his shot. Henry could picture the scene with perfect clarity: knowing exactly where everything was in the clearing: knowing what had happened before. at Lamlung.

The moment the elephant had caught Eddie Trevor's scent, it would have stood stock-still, stopping in mid-stride. Then it must have wriggled the end of its trunk, raising it in the air ever so deli- cately to make sure where the man-scent was coming from. It must have turned then, turned with that spell-binding deliberation of elephants, carefully centring its eyes on the source of the scent, aiming its whole body at the object to be destroyed-the puny. terrified, gesticulating object perched on a fallen tree that was Eddie Trevor, Olympic hockey star. Henry wondered if Eddie himself had realized that his death had been planned. Perhaps he had, just a second or two before he died. when the rifle had failed to go off. and Pasupati's warning had come to his mind. Henry hoped that he had realized that he was being murdered. Eddie Trevor's father, old John Trevor, had come to the bungalow just as they were sitting down to dinner, but Henry had kept him waiting until they had finished. He had gone through clear soup two helpings of creamed chicken, trifle, and an egg savoury, trying to sound natural, trying to behave as though nothing had hap pened, making small talk to his wife. It would have been unusual to have got excited over a hunter's being a little late coming back. To show too much interest, to break the routine sufficiently to see old Mr. Trevor while they were still at dinner might in itself have aroused some kind of suspicion.

Above all, there was the extra dividend of the intense, exquisite pleasure of glancing repeatedly at his wife's face, gone suddenly chalk white and alert at hearing that Eddie had not returned and that his father had come to see them about it, the pleasure of demon strating to her, with deeds more than words, that as far as he was concerned, whether a man like Eddie Trevor was late returning from a hunt or never returned, was not sufficient reason to break the ntual of an Englishman's dinner

He dawdled over his coffee, finding fault with the first cup and sending for another. It was only after he had finished the coffee that he sent for old Mr. Trevor.

John G. Trevor came in, holding his thick, battered, quilted topee in his hands and blinking his eyes, bowing to both of them again and again. He looked diminutive and shrivelled, and his eyes had a wild, staring look. He had also developed a nervous twitch at the corner of his mouth..

Please sit down, Mr Trevor,' said Jean, not looking at Henry. but the old man remained standing, twirling his hat and looking at Henry for confirmation. Henry did not invite him to sit down

No use getting worked up about someone who has gone out hunting and not come back in time,' Henry told him. I'm sure your son will be back soon may be he is already back for all you know. There are a hundred reasons why a hunter could get delayed. Any way, I cannot do anything now, at night I'll send out a couple of men to look for him first thing to-morrow morning, that is, if he hasn't turned up by then."

Old Mr. Trevor had gone on standing, twirling his hat and blink- ing, and Henry remembered the first day he had seen him, going brazenly into Sudden's sitting-room and helping himself to Sudden's Coronas, the quick-moving, waddling figure full of assurance, looking into the hat-stand mirror and adjusting the points of his moustaches; the cocky little bastard, father of Eddie Trevor. Heury looked at him with contempt.

"You have my permission to leave. Trevor, said Henry.

Old Mr. Trevor said 'Good-night' and turned away, hat in hand and shuffling his feet. At the door, he turned once again to bow and say, 'Good night, your honours."

'It's extraordinary how these types get panicky about nothing at all. said Henry to his wife loudly enough for Trevor to hear. "Absolutely no guts!"

It was later that night, when Henry was sitting in front of the drawing-room fire, his swollen leg still swathed in its heavy crepe bandage and resting on a pile of cushions placed on a low stool opposite him as he was drinking brandy that Jean told him she was in love with Eddie Trevor,

Henry listened to her without saying a word, not giving away his hand, knowing that he had already won, and holding on tightly to his secret; preventing himself from blurting out that she was confessing to adultery with a man who was no longer alive. He had gone on staring into the fire, letting her talk, letting her tell hin everything: everything that he already knew. Only, it was now being called love. It did not hurt him and, strangely enough, it did not even make him feel angry. He sat listening to her, sipping his brandy and staring into the flames with an air of extreme concen- tration, listening to how they had been attracted to each other when they had first met two years earlier, how they had now fallen in love, how they had been meeting each other. They wanted to get married, she told him; she would go and live with her aunt and join the WAACs. As soon as she was free to marry, they were going to be married. She also told him how sorry she was, how much it hurt her to cause him the slightest pain.

But she was not causing him any pain. Nothing could hurt him any more, he thought, nothing. All the punishment that his system was capable of absorbing had already come, anything more was like water over the dam.

Right over the mantelpiece was the enormous head of a bison Henry had shot almost five years ago, it was Henry's first bison. That bison too must have been dazed by the first couple of shots, and after that, nothing seemed to have been able to hurt it. It had taken Henry thirteen more shots to finish the animal off the next morning. The bison had kept trying to get to its knees again and again, even though lleny had been fing shots into its neck from hately six feet away.

Henry shifted his gaze from the flames to the monstrous black head sticking out of its wooden shield, the glass eyes staring dully at nothing, the pink, waxed tongue curling sound the grey shellacked nose. Have you nothing to say?' Jean was asking him in a flat, husky Voice.

He shook his head ever so slightly and went on staring at the bison, his very first bison, the noble head with the magnificent forty-one inch spread, unconscious of the least pain in his mind or body, only vaguely aware of the fact that his wife sitting behind him had begun to sob bitterly.

The two men had gone early the next morning, briefed by Henry and warned by him again and again not to venture into the clear- ing until they had made sure that the elephant was not there.

Henry sent back his breakfast untouched and waited for their return, smoking cigarette after cigarette, growing increasingly ner- vous and irritable, and thankful above all that lean had not come out of the bedroom that morning. That Eddie Trevor was already dead, he did not have the least doubt in his mind. His anxiety was due to quite a different reason. He was waiting for the two conlies with desperate eagerness, knowing that he would have at the most two or three minutes in which to act; to ensure that there would be no possibility of anyone's even suspecting that Fddie Trevor's death had been anything but an accident.

He had gone carefully over what he had to do, but, of course, much would depend on how many cartridges had been used. He had worked out a plan for every possible contingency, and now there was nothing he could do but wait.

It was nearly ten before the two men returned with the news that Eddie Trevor was dead: killed by the elephant one arm torn clean away from the body and missing, the body itself trampled and broken and gored. They had left the body where it lay, but they had brought back Henry's rifle and also Eddie's cap and canvas cartridge bag which had been lying some distance away from the hody. Henry's heart gave a wild leap. 'Please, God!' he kept saying, 'please, please let this bit work out all right; please." He snatched at the rifle and the bag, feeling the weight of the bag to ascertain whether the remaining cartridges were still there. He almost ran into the gun-room, thumping his bandaged foot clumsily and gritting his teeth against the blinding pain that each step brought on. He banged the gun-room door shut and broke the rifle and the two unexploded cartridges made two precise arcs and fell in the rug with a single soft thud. He picked up the cartridges from the floor and threw them into the cupboard and loaded two fresh ones into the rifle. He said a silent prayer as he counted the cartridges in the bag itself. All fourteen of them were still there. So Eddie Trevor had not opened the rifle at all, and had dropped no cartridges in the jungle. He counted all the artridges once again, and then deposited them in the cupboard, and put fourteen fresh cartridges into the bag.

He could not have been away for more than two minutes at the must, but he was sweating in every pore and panting heavily as he came out onto the verandah again. The two coolies were still sitting on the verandah steps exactly where he had left them and talking to each other in hushed whispers.

The cards were falling just right, Lo missing cartridges this time to give rise to any suspicions, no dud cartridges in the rifle either.

"Thank you. O. God. thank you!" said Henry almost audibly. He had won; it had been too easy. Trevor sahib does not seem to have attempted to fire the rifle at all, he told the two coolies, breaking open the rifle before them. "Cartridges still intact, see?"

Both the coolies nodded their heads uncomprehendingly. like bulls warding off flies, and Henry snapped at them in a sudden release from tension, 'But have both of you been bitten by mad dogs that you should be bringing the rifle and the hat back here? Don't you know that this is a police matter? Everything must be left exactly where it was. Here, you. Birbahadur, you take two more coolies with you. at once, and take all these things back and put them exactly where you found them understand?"

Jee sahib, Birbahadur said, nodding his head. Don't leave the body until the police ate. Don't touch any thing-anything. But guard the body, see, don't let the vultures and the ants... er, do any damage. Both of you should not have come back. Go off at once, Birbahadur, and tell the superintendent to give you two coolies-ekdum!"

Henry Winton was once again assuming command of the situa tion, making all the decisions, giving the orders. 'Boy!' he called. 'Boy! Come here, juldi!"

The number one boy came running out.

'Send word to Trevor sahib's father to come here,' he said to the boy. "At once! Send another man to tell the superintendent to send a telegram to the police thana at Tinapur that an accident has occurred. Go and tell the superintendent what you saw, Sham- singh, he said to the other coolie who was still standing on the verandah steps. Tell him exactly what you saw, so that he can make a full report to the police."

"Yes, sir," said the boy, and ran out.

"Jee, sahib,' said Shamsingh.

It was only after they had both gone that Henry threw himself down into a chair, knowing that his legs would not have sup ported him much longer. 'Boy!" he yelled as soon as he had got his breath back. 'Boy! Koi-hai. there? Idhar an, bloody ckdum!"

The number two houseboy came out and said. "Jee sahib."

Tell the memsahib I want to see her, here. And boy, bring me a drink afterwards; brandy-pani. Jean came out and stood in the doorway, her face chalk-white. her eyes swollen as though she had not slept, her nose pink from crying. The boy said you wanted to see me, she said.

Henry turned in his chair to look at her, savouring the sweet joy of revenge, taking his time like a bullfighter poised to make the final thrust at a groggy bull, knowing that he had already won the fight.

Eddie Trevor is dead,' he told her, making his voice as dis passionate as possible, unconsciously imitating the BBC announcer. 'Killed by the elephant. It seems he didn't fire a shot."

Jean covered her face with her hands and turned back into the house. 'Boy! Henry called. "Boy! Where's that damned brandy-pani? Juldi!

Once again the bowed, Japanesy figure of old John Trevor came trotting up to the bungalow, holding his hat in his hand and panting, and sat down in the chair next to Henry without invita- tion. He looked completely dazed and his ever-blinking eyes were wilder than ever.

Birbahadur told me,' he said to Henry.

There's no need to tell you how sorry I am,' said Henry. These things are in the hands of God.' Mr. Trevor crossed himself.

I've sent for the police.'

"Why the police?"

Whenever there's an accident of this sort, it is always necessary for the police to make an investigation. It is the law

'I see.'

In the meantime, there's nothing more we can do."

'No, nothing."

I cannot tell you how sorry I am,' said Henry again.

'We all have to die."

I had warned him it was dangerous."

"No one can help these things, sahib; it is fate. He was fated not to get his com--commission. Only two weeks more and he would have gone. Mr. Trevor's eyes were filled with tears.

'That's right, just two weeks.

'He would have become Lieutenant Trevor, or even Captain Trevor, just like any English off-officer, Mr. Trevor sniffed." 'Yes, he would have got a wartime commission, quite possibly,"

said Henry. Will you be sending a wire to Sir Jeffrey Dart?

'A wire to Sir Jeffrey? No, I a'r think so. There's no need to worry the Resident Director about an... about an accident like this. I shall be putting it in my weekly report, of course. Then I shall have to send word to Su :effrey, so that he can come here."

'Come here! Sir Jeffrey Dart? Don't be absurd!" said Henry with irritation. 'He would like to be informed."

I know how you must feel. Trevor. But we ran't go sending telegrams to the Resident Director to come over every time there's a death on one of the gardens; now can we?"

Eddie Trevor's father sat staring into the distance, nodding and mumbling to himself. He blew his nose into a dirty, crumpled handkerchief and wiped his eyes before he spoke. 'But Sir Jeffrey should be here for the funeral, at least."

'Sir Jeffrey doesn't like funerals; they upset him. He didn't go even when Captam Cockburn died; and Cockburn was senior manager.'

The little man sat up in his chair and put on his ridiculously large hat as though preparing to leave. If you are not informing Sir Jeffrey, the responsibility will be entirely yours."

I'm sorry, Trevor, but I certainly don't mean to worry Sir Jeffrey."

Then I will send the wire myself. Will you kindly let me have a coolie to send to the telegraph office?"

A coolie, Trevor? Certainly not! Not for sending the Resident Director a telegram that a... a stockman has died."

Then I shall have to go down to the telegraph office myself-- three miles.

"That's your business."

Old John Trevor stood swaying near his chair and looked into Henry's face. 'You never liked my... You did not like Eddie, did you. Mr. Winton"

I don't have to like or dislike every watchman or coolie on my garden or stockman."

Because Ruby Miranda picferred him to you.' said old Mr. Trevor in a low almost confidential tone

'I know you've had a nasty shock. Trevor, and you cannot be expes ted to behave normally. Even so, I shall have to ask you to leave."

"And then you wife, too, she fell in love with Eddie." "Will you get out, or must I throw you out?" said Henry, trying to keep his voice under control. "You have always been jealous of him. That is why you cannot help behaving as though you are glad he is dead."

Frankly, I cannot be expected to feel the same kind of sorrow as you, Trevor, I am not the man's father."

No, Mr. Winton. But there is such a thing as common human kindness. But that you have never had. Such a pity, and Mr. Trevor shook his head sadly and blew his nose.

I do think you should leave now, Trevor. You are old and you have received a shock. I don't like to be rude, but you will just have to leave."

Yes, I will go, certainly; I must walk down to the valley now to send off telegram since you won't let me have a man. But re- member this, Henry Winton...

Oh, shut your bloody mouth, you drivelling old bastard!" Henry barked out at him, enraged at the use of his first name. 'I have had enough of your bloody nonsense!!

The old man shook with anger, rocking to and fro, his Victorian quilted topee bobbing up and down with the shaking of his head. but his voice was quieter than ever. You taunted me just now Henry Winton, that you were not Eddie's father. Well, let me tell yen something. I am not his father either."

"You are mad!" said Henry.

I am not mad, Winton. It is you who are mad; mad with joy because an elephant has done your work for you. Mad with joy berause of your broken ankle so that you will not have to go and fight in the war. And you humiliate an old man like me only be cause you are sure that I cannot hit back at you. But that is just what I wanted to tell you. Eddie was the son of someone far hore powerful than yourself, someone who can talk to you in your own language: can keep you standing in his presence, can humiliate you....

"The shock of your son's death has deranged your mind,' said Henry again, very gently. Please try and control yourself."

"Someone who has the power to make you squirm and grovel before him. Eddie's father is Sir Jeffrey Dart!

"You're crazy!' shouted Henry. That's a lie!"

But even as he was shouting the words he knew that it was not a lie. In a flash, a whole series of inconsistencies had explained them- selves; it was as though a curtain nad been lifted, making a pattern clearer and brighter, bringing out the colours in all their vividness.

Sudden's flashes of good humour when ver Eddie Trevor hap- pened to be about, his efforts to get him a commission, his insistence on Eddie's being taken on in Jugal Kishore's place, and Lady Dart's tantrums at old Trevor's having visited Sudden surreptitiously.

And towering above all was the Purdy, there could be no other explanation for Sudden's letting Eddie have the use of his cherished one-of-a-pair Purdy. Henry's mind rocked with that realization.

So it wasn't Ruby Miranda who had invited Eddie Trevor to Silent Hill: it was Sudden Dart himself who had sent for him.

'Yes, I married Eddie's mother after she was with child,' John Trevor was saying, 'Jeffrey Dart's child. It was during the war, the last war. He was my manager then, at Pagoda Dale. He made it worth my while, and I married Eddie's mother. She was a lovely woman, the loveliest woman who ever lived; and I loved her, loved her as no man has ever loved a woman. But Sir Jeffrey Dart has been good to me too; me and the boy, both, helping us out when- ever he could."

'Did...did Eddie know?"

'No, Eddie didn't know. He died not knowing. I brought him up as my own child, showering all the love and affection I was capable of, sending him to school at Darjeeling, giving him the best educa tion I could afford, doing for him more than any father would have done. And Eddie has always been a good son to me, loving and dutiful. It was only whenever I was in very bad need of help that I appealed to Sir Jeffrey- for instance, when I wanted a job for him."

'Oh, my God!"

'And Sir Jeffrey loved that boy too, came to love him mote and more. He had no other children, and Eddie was a son to be proud of. Good day. Mr Winton"

"Where You and Eddie Left Off

THE police came in the afternoon, and by nightfall they had com pleted the formalities. It was nine o'clock before they brought Eddie Trevor's body up the hill. The missing arm was found in the cleft of a silk-cotton tree on the outskirts of the clearing, at least sixty yards away from where the body lay.

Sudden arrived just in time for the funeral the next morning. and with him he had brought Dr. Lewis to take a look at Henry's leg. Old John Trevor had sent for the padre from Tinapur, and they buried Eddie Trevor in a secluded spot in the shadow of Wallach's Folly. Many people from Tinapur railway colony came up in hired Inses for the funeral. Among them were Mr. and Mrs. Miranda, accompanied by their three sons, and Henderson the station- master. Most of the national papers must have carried the news of Eddie's death in their morning editions, for the afternoon post brought the first batch of scores of telegrams that were to come from sports associations and hockey clubs all over India. By lunch-time it way all over. Jean had complained of a headache and had not left the bedroom. Sudden and Dr. Lewis had eaten their lunch in silence and listened Henry telling them about the elephant. As soon as lunch was over, Dr. Lewis examined Henry's leg.

Looks as though you have ripped a tenon, Winton. Dr. Lewis pronounced. Perhaps a fracture. Can't tell for certain, with all that swelling. Not without an X-say. Is the pain pretty constant?"

'Yes.

'Humm. I'll have to take you down to the railway hospital at Tinapur and get an X-ray. Might have to go into a plaster cast." It's just a sprain, Henry protested. Only a bad sprain. Dammit,

I can't go down with a broken leg: I wan to join up 'Let's leave that to the X-ray to decide, said Dr. Lewis a little tartly. "Looks pretty bad to me."

Sudden, who had kept silent while the examination was going on, said, 'Pity about that leg of yours, Henry.'

'Let's hope the X-ray says it's only a sprain, sir.'

'But that won't do as far as I'm concerned-not for what I had in mind,' said Sudden shaking his head wistfully. 'I was hoping you and I could go and take a crack at this elephant, Henry.'

'You and I, sir?

That's right, and now it looks as though I shall have to go and do it by myself."

You, sir? Go for the one-tusker!' exclaimed Henry.

"Well, the damned animal has never been so close to one before, what?' said Sudden with excessive lightness. 'Hardly three miles from a motor road."

'It's pretty difficult country."

I doubt if you should be permitted to go out after an elephant. Sir Jeffrey. Dr. Lewis put in. Not with your... not after what the Calcutta doctors told you. And the three-mile walk up and down the khud would be quite out of the question with that knee of yours.'

'Oh, I'll manage all night,' said Sudden with firmness. I'll get them to carry me on a dandy as far as-as far as one can go in a dandy, damn it: possibly right up to that clearing of Henry's. I hope Jean won't mind putting up with me for a few days, Henry."

Of course not, s.r. She... we'd be delighted. 'And I should be most grateful for the use of your big rifle and some cartridges, Henry." "Certainly, sir," said Henry. But who will go with you? I mean, sit up with you and all that. You must have someone... someone who knows the jungle.

I've brought a chap with me,' said Sudden. That man Pasupati. you know, looks after the game cottage He knows every bit of the jungle round here, so he tells me, including the Koyna valley. He's promised to get me a shot at the elephant."

Pasupati?" said Henry. 'I suppose he does know night, but even so... the jungle all

And in any case it shouldn't be at all difficult to shoot him now. after all the spadework you've put in. We shall just be taking over from where you and Eddie left off, you know. I propose to set up a couple of scarecrows in that clearing, just as you did, and then sit up for the elephant till he shows up. Easy, 'I'll go and tell Pasupati to get busy with the bandobast, then," said Sudden. 'Just tell them to give me your four-sixty-five and a box of cartridges, will you Henry, before Lewis whisks you off to Tinapur?

'But why do you have to go after the elephant yourself, Sir Jeffrey?' asked Dr. Lewis. 'Why can't it wait until Winton is able to go hunting again? Or why can't one of the other hunters, Bliss or Rutherford, say, go after the elephant?'

It's very important that I participate in the killing of this elephant,' said Sudden very solemnly, looking straight in front of him. Then, as though he had said more than he wanted to, be turned on his heel and went out of the room.

The old man's crazy,' said Lewis, shaking his head in dis- approval. 'He's got a dicky heart and he's been warned to go pretty slow. And his old knee is stiffer than ever. Anyway. it's his business, and I know he's not the type who takes advice kindly. Come on, you'd better shout for your boys to get your things ready so that we can go and get that X-ray without wasting any more time."

"Boy! called Henry. "Boy!" 'You'd better tell him to pack as though you are... you are going away for some time. Just as well....""

I say,' said Henry. I'd just as soon not say anything about my leg to the memsahib, what? Let's wait until we see what the X-ray has to say. Don't you agree?" 'Of course. We can start as soon as you're ready. You'd better not forget to get out the bandook and the cartridges the old man wants.'

The boy came out and stood aiting for Henry's orders, and for a brief moment, just for a few seconds, Henry wondered how he was going to get the boy to bring out the right cartridges. But he was saved the trouble. Sudden Dart came hurrying back into the room looking very apologetic. He said, 'Lek, Henry; forget about the rifle, will you? I won't have to bother you, after all. This chap Pasupati is convinced there's some sort of a spell on that rifle of yours. He's just not prepared to go hunting with anyone who takes your four-sixty-five. Absolute nonsense, of course, but I suppose it's just as well to humour these chaps. No use taking a disgruntled shikari with you on a hunt of this sort, what? I've sent for a rifle and ammunition from the Lower Tista.... You know how superstitious some of these damned shikaris can be."

Within an hour, they were in the car, going down to Tinapur for the X-ray. By the time they reached the railway hospital, Henry had developed a slight temperature. Dr. Lewis shook his head and clucked his tongue when he examined the photographs, but he grinned and told Henry there was really nothing to worry about. 'I'm sending you to Calcutta-to the European hospital there. Absolutely the best in India. They'll have you right as rain; right as rain in no time at all,' said Dr. Lewis to Henry with a chilling, pro- fessional smile.