“Good morning to you, too, Inspector. I have just come from an early meeting, so Mrs. Tapley placed the call for the sake of speed—she said you wanted to speak to me with some urgency.”
“Murder is an urgent matter, in my book.”
Maisie felt her smile deflate. “What’s happened, Inspector?”
“I understand you recently spoke to a Miss Maya Patel.”
“Yes, when I visited the ayah’s hostel—we were to meet again today.”
“Well, you won’t be meeting her at all, I’m afraid—her body was found by some dockers early this morning, round the back of a warehouse, not far from the canal. Doesn’t look like she was dumped, we reckon she walked there.”
“What was the cause of death?”
“A bullet, Miss Dobbs. Same as the other young lady—straight between the eyes.”
“Oh, dear God.”
“At least it was quick, Miss Dobbs. At least it was quick, not like some of them I see. Anyway, can you come to the Yard?”
“I’m expecting Mr. Pramal here at any moment.”
“Right then, just the man I’m looking for—I’ll come to you.” There was silence on the line for a second or two.
“Caldwell?”
“How long do you want with him before I get there?”
“About forty-five minutes or so. And thank you, Inspector. I appreciate your forethought.”
“Might as well show a bit of willing. After all, Miss Dobbs, we’re in this one together. Getting to be a habit.”
Maisie walked to the window. She’d been due to meet Maya Patel at half past four, at St. Pancras station. How much of a coincidence was there to connect Patel’s death with her knowledge of Usha and the fact that she had welcomed the opportunity to meet with Maisie and perhaps confide in her? She wondered what connections might exist between the dead women, beyond secrets shared in their accommodations. She suspected that, if they had been in their own country, they might not have encountered each other, but here they had been brought together by the common experience of exile.
The bell rang, announcing the arrival of a visitor. “That’ll be Mr. Pramal,” said Sandra.
Maisie escorted Usha Pramal’s brother to the office and offered him a seat in front of her desk. She brought her chair to the side, so that the desk did not form a barrier between them. Pramal declined tea, so Sandra remained at her desk.
“Mr. Pramal, I have some news to report, and as you can imagine, more questions. First of all, the disturbing development, and I am very sorry to have to break this to you under such circumstances. Another resident of the ayah’s hostel, a friend of your sister, has been murdered, and at this point it would seem that she was killed by a single bullet to the head. Detective Inspector Caldwell will be here at about ten—as you would imagine, he wishes to interview you; however, he has been most gracious, and not entirely following protocol, by allowing our meeting here to go ahead.”
“I suppose I am among the suspects.” Pramal’s anger was barely disguised, the words delivered without meeting Maisie’s eyes.
“I believe that if you were a prime suspect, you would not be here in my office, but at Scotland Yard. Having said that, be prepared for Caldwell to be somewhat confrontational—it’s his way, and he has a murder to investigate.”
“It’s a pity he didn’t get a bit more confrontational when he was investigating my sister’s death, wouldn’t you say, Miss Dobbs?”
“Your frustration is warranted, Mr. Pramal. But let us not waste time going over old ground. Maya Patel has been killed, and she was due to meet me later today. I am assuming she had some crucial information to impart, and in a way she already has.” Maisie paused, allowing her words to filter through Pramal’s temper. “I visited Usha’s accommodations yesterday, and discovered something very interesting, which I must tell you about. Hidden in her mattress—not a terribly safe place, but no one else had looked, clearly—I discovered a considerable sum in savings. I have taken the liberty of depositing the monies at my bank, in a box under lock and key.”
“Usha had money?”
“Easily enough to return home, I would say, but I spoke to Miss Patel long enough to establish that Usha was remaining here to earn a sum sufficient to achieve her ambition of founding a school. It seems they had confided in each other.”
“But this Miss Patel, she was just an ayah—she doesn’t sound like someone my sister would confide in.”
“From our conversation yesterday, it would seem that Usha thought nothing of