Nightrunners of Bengal by John Masters Page A

much to prove they are in the inner circle at the fort. One of them saw the Rani push her husband off the roof walk. What no one understands is why she murdered him. She had great power, through him. Her little boy is the only heir the Company could possibly recognize. Sitapara’s suggestion is that she is a loose woman, really promiscuous—the kind that must have scores of lovers—and the Rajah found out.”
    Rodney hunched his shoulders and blurted before he could stop himself, “I don’t believe it!”
    She kept her voice flat and unemotional. “Nor did Sitapara, in her own mind. And that leaves the assassination, and all the judicial murders which followed, quite pointless—unless the Rani has such an insane lust for personal power that she did it for that.”
    Rodney sat holding his knees, thinking miserably of Sumitra and the golden weeks since January the second. Above the falls the water was a sheet of dull steel; bats flickered by, and the river grumbled below in the blackness. He said, “What else did you find out?”
    “Sitapara could tell us nothing about the Silver Guru. She agreed with me that he must have known something, but she insisted he’s a true holy man. She couldn’t think of any reason which would make him work with such people as the Rani and the Dewan. There’s nothing big enough, she says. Then she told us that weird things have been going on since the New Year. Everyone is on edge. People whisper of stars falling, dogs running about headless in the streets, vultures flying in threes across the moon—things like that. No one knows where the rumours come from. And”—he heard her turn to face him directly—“a young officer said one night in her place that one of the top three here—the old Rajah, the Rani, or the Dewan—was bribing Mr. Dellamain, and had been for a long time.”
    That he could believe, especially since a chance fall of light had uncovered for him the fear behind the Commissioner’s imposing manner. If they had been bribing him for a long time, the murder might have been long-planned, and the bribes the price of Dellamain’s support for the Rani in official quarters. It made a big difference exactly which of the three was giving the bribes. But again, why the murder at all? Who benefited? The bribes could be for something else. There was the salt monopoly to encourage smuggling; rajahs did slip jewels to British officials who “forgot” to apprise the Governor General of their more outrageous vicesand extortions. The girl had uncovered a real dungheap in her determination to drag Sumitra down. And what could she know of all the circumstances to be so self-righteous?
    Turning to watch her face, he said with malice, “The Lieutenant Governor was in Kishanpur till yesterday evening. Why didn’t you tell him?”
    The near-darkness softened the firmness of her bone structure, and she looked less ruthlessly self-assured. She answered slowly, “I did consider it. My uncle, Lord Claygate—Lady Isobel’s father—is an important man. The Lieutenant Governor would at least have to listen to me—and if I had evidence, he would have to do something. But everyone knows that I’m unbalanced! Unless I have proof, he’ll do nothing. And proof I am going to get! Sitapara is as determined as I am. She’s promised to send me a message if she hears of anything definite enough for us to act on.”
    “Us? You mean you and Major de Forrest?”
    “Major de Forrest? Oh, he just said he’d come to the city with me. I meant anyone who will help me.”
    She meant him. She meant to drag him into this crusade, with herself cast as Peter the Hermit, the madam of a knocking shop as Walter the Penniless, and the Rani and the Commissioner as the infidels.
    Of course, if he became commander-in-chief of Kishanpur, he could probably find out—and destroy Sumitra, who had offered him the post because she liked him. Joanna would have a fit at the idea of spying on Dellamain. Even if he