myself. I heard that he was a very ordinary young man with nothing to commend him. It was most discourteous that he should call to see Usha without an invitation from my father, or even one of my aunts, standing in for our mother. Such a lack of respect. He had much to learn about India.”
“Before we leave the subject of Usha and her suitors, do you think there’s anyone else we should know about?” asked Maisie.
“As I mentioned, there was my fellow officer, with whom I stayed for a short while here in London. He is married now. Our mothers were close and our fathers had business together—there was at one time a hope that he and Usha might join the two families. It would have been a source of joy, but she was not to be persuaded.”
“Mr. Pramal. Please, correct me if I am wrong, because I have not been to India and my experience of your way of life is rather limited, but everything you have told me about Usha points to the fact that she very much sailed against the wind, that she—for want of a better phrase—took liberties. How was she not vilified in the community . . . didn’t people talk?”
Pramal smiled as tears rimmed his eyes. “Ah yes, indeed, Miss Dobbs, that should have been the case. But you see, Usha was beautiful and loved, and ever since she was a child—a very precocious child—it was as if there was a young goddess in our midst. She carried with her an eternal sunshine, you know. She was one of those people who walk along the street and everyone notices them; it’s as if they are the source of all brightness.”
There was silence for a half-minute.
“Well, excuse, me, Mr. Pramal,” said Billy. “But someone didn’t like all that brightness, did they? In fact, someone would have had to hate it enough to kill her, or she would still be here. You’ve got to have given someone a right upset, to get a bullet through your skull, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
Maisie looked at Billy, shocked at his tone, then turned back to Pramal, her voice modulated to soothe in the wake of her assistant’s words. “Mr. Beale has a point—we are now down to who might have wanted her dead, and we might well get to some answers through asking why rather than via any other route.” She held up her closed palm, opening each finger in turn as she listed possibilities. “Usha was likely killed for one of the following reasons: One—she had offended or upset someone to the extent that they lost their temper, or they premeditated her murder. Two—she knew something about someone that cost her life. Three—it could have been a random attack, possibly the result of prejudice. Four—mistaken identity. A decade ago London saw some of the worst violence, based upon the color of a person’s skin, ever to take place on this soil; that sort of tension can linger, especially in these difficult times. Five—someone loved her too much and wanted to punish her for it.” She held up the opposite forefinger. “Six—envy. Someone was envious of her.”
Sandra half-raised her hand again, but put it down as she asked another question. “Mr. Pramal—what do you think might have been the reason for your sister’s death?”
Pramal shrugged and sighed. For the first time his military bearing seemed to have abandoned him. “If I was to guess, I would say that you have a point with each of your suppositions, but I believe Usha was killed because someone was afraid of her.”
Maisie, Billy, and Sandra were all silent, waiting.
“Yes, afraid.” Pramal went on. The previously tear-filled eyes now seemed calm, but resolute. “Usha had a power inside her—it is almost beyond me to explain it. A goddess on earth, that’s what people said about her, even when she was a small child. You see, Miss Dobbs—” He looked at Sandra and then Billy, acknowledging them. “You only had to watch her walk. She did not take small steps. No, my sister could stride. Everywhere she went, it was with some purpose.”
Billy returned to the office following Pramal’s departure, joining Maisie at the table by the window, where the case map was spread out.
“Billy, Sandra’s taken the cups along the hall. Before she gets back, I wanted to talk about the meeting with Pramal—you were very quiet, and then you snapped at him. It was a fair observation, to