we had this woman—a visiting lecturer—come along to talk to the class last week. She’s been standing in for someone else. A doctor, she is—not medical, but of something else; history, I think, or perhaps politics. It was a history class anyway. She was talking about imperialism and about Mr. Gandhi, and what was happening in India, and how it would affect Britain. Very sharp, she was. Kept us all listening, not like some of them.”
Sandra continued talking as Maisie looked down at a page where she, too, had marked a name: Usha Pramal.
“Not that there was any reason for her not to be intelligent, mind,” Sandra went on. “But you know, I was surprised to see an Indian woman there, teaching us. She was very, very good—better than most of the men, I have to say.”
“It seems Usha Pramal was of her ilk—her brother’s description reveals an educated woman with an independence of character,” said Maisie. She looked up. “Do you have her name—your lecturer? I think I might like to see her, have a word with her; she could have some valuable information for us, perhaps, regarding Indian women here in London.”
“She’ll be giving the lecture tomorrow evening. I’ve forgotten her name now, but I can find out when I get there.”
“Thank you, Sandra.” Maisie paused. “If it can be arranged, I would like to meet her—at this point, I think any information will be useful, even if it is removed from the case, but it could shed light on how Usha Pramal might have lived. I fear more time has elapsed on this case than I would have wanted. Evidence will be thin, and we’ll be dependent upon the opinions and observations of people who might well have worked hard at forgetting whatever they knew about Miss Pramal. We need to draw in as much background information as we can.”
Billy returned to the room, smiling at Sandra, then at Maisie. “Nice bloke, eh?”
“Yes, a very good man I think, Billy,” said Maisie, standing up. “Let’s all take a seat by the window and get a case map started. I’ll be bringing back more information after I’ve seen Caldwell this afternoon.”
Billy took a roll of wallpaper, cut a length, and unfurled it upside down across the table, where he and Sandra pinned it in place. The wallpaper had been given to them by a painter and decorator friend of Billy’s, who often had surplus from his paper-hanging job. Maisie placed a jar of colored crayons on the table—some of thick wax in bold primary colors, others fine pencils in more muted shades. She took a bright red wax crayon and wrote Usha Pramal in the center of the paper, circling the name. This was the beginning, the half-open shell in what would become a tide pool of ideas, thoughts, random opinions; of words that came to mind unbidden; and of threads connecting evidence gathered. Some of it would make sense, though much of it wouldn’t, but eventually something on the map, often one small buried clue, would point them to the killer. And a terrier could always find something buried, if she’d caught the scent.
“Billy, we need to find the exact point on the Surrey Canal where the body was discovered. I’ll get more information from Caldwell; however, in the meantime, I don’t want to depend upon it, so would you go down to Camberwell, find out where she was found on the canal. Talk to anyone who might have witnessed something—remember, people would love to forget this, so carefully does it.” She sighed. “Mind you, on the other hand, there are probably a few gossips who’d enjoy nothing more than a good old chin-wag about a murder. In any case, could you also find out about movements on the canal that might have taken the body along. I believe timber is transported back and forth to the works there, from Greenland Docks or Rotherhithe—can you find out and ask around? See if any of the dockworkers saw anything of interest to us, or if anyone knows someone who did?” Maisie pushed back her chair, and went to her desk, where she took a camera from a large desk drawer. “Use this. There’s film in the box, and it’s easy to operate—heaven knows, if I can take a photograph, anyone can! I have a neighbor who has a darkroom in his flat, so he’ll get them developed for us, and he’s quite quick about it.” She handed the