Ellis Peters - George Felse 11 - Death To The Landlords by Ellis Peters

told you, you never get used to losing one. What he may have done doesn’t make much difference. Except that he might have lived to die a worse way. Shouldn’t we go and see if the men are up? They were going to sleep in the Land-Rover – there weren’t enough rooms.’
    Patti rose slowly, like one still in a dream. ‘You are incredible! I’m frightened of you, and I envy you, you know that? I can believe in
you
dying for a cause – without any heroics, either, just in cold blood – like Ajit Ghose!’ A sudden thought struck her, and she halted with her hand on the handle of the door. ‘He was telling you quite a lot, wasn’t he, this inspector! Do you think he’s going to let everybody know? That his case is successfully closed already?’
    ‘I think,’ said Priya, considering, ‘that he may. Perhaps for a reason of his own.’
    ‘Oh? What do you mean by that?’
    ‘I think,’ she said carefully, ‘that Inspector Raju has his reservations. Yes, he surely believes that this is the truth about Mr Bakhle’s assassination. There seems no doubt about that. But not the whole truth. You see, this was only a half-educated man, however intelligent he may have been…’
    ‘And however fanatically devoted. Yes, I see that. It takes specialist knowledge to make bombs.’
    ‘Yes. Could Ajit Ghose have done all this quite alone? So by letting it be known that the case is closed, I think Inspector Raju is setting out to put someone else at his ease, too – and off his guard.’
     
    At breakfast in the hotel dining-room, when most of the delayed travellers were already present, Inspector Raju made his announcement. First in Tamil, then in English, for the benefit of the foreign element, which even included a couple of innocent Germans, late arrivals and pathetically ignorant of all that was going on. In halting German Larry translated for the hapless engineers from some northern hydro-electric undertaking:
    ‘Everyone present is now at liberty to proceed, subject to leaving with the police particulars of exactly where he can be contacted in the new few days, if it should be necessary. The case is now satisfactorily concluded, but we may need to get in touch with certain witnesses in connection with the detailed documentation of the events of yesterday. Will everyone who is ready to leave please report first to the police office on the premises. Thank you!’
    Madame Bessancourt, without a word, rolled up her knitting and put it away in the capacious black bag that never left her side. Monsieur Bessancourt, with the same deliberation, picked up his Panama hat in one band and their overnight portmanteau in the other, and they were ready. The first to be ready, as they had been the most patient and imperturbable during the delay. Police matters were to be accepted and respected in every country, but no need to waste time once the release was given. They passed by the table where Larry’s party sat at breakfast, and performed their ritual bow as gravely as always.
    ‘Are you heading back towards Madurai?’ Larry asked, by way of making conversation in passing.
    ‘No, we are going on to Kottayam, and then down the coast to Quilon and Trivandrum.’ Monsieur Bessancourt glanced down at the folded map in his breast pocket as if for confirmation. ‘And on to the Cape afterwards. And you?’
    ‘The other way. We go back on our tracks nearly to Madurai, then south towards Tirunelveli. Later we shall be going on to the Cape, too.’
    ‘Then perhaps we may meet there,’ said Madame graciously. Inevitably, Dominic thought. Nobody is going to be touring this near to Cape Comorin, and not go the rest of the way, and by any route the distance is much the same. The odds are we shall all meet there.
    ‘We must go and tell our plans to the inspector. It is tragic that this beautiful place had to be spoiled by such an act. And for your so terrible experience I am sorry. I hope you can forget what you could not help.
Au