worry, Inspector, I’ll keep you posted all the way along. And I will find the killer.”
“I know you will, Miss Dobbs.”
“How do you know?”
Caldwell put his hat back on. “Because you’re a terrier, Miss Dobbs. You might not be quick, and you might not go about it like I would, but you never let go. Now then, you go and get your teeth into his story. See where that leads you.”
Maisie waved and made her way back up the stairs to her office. Caldwell was right, she wouldn’t let go. She couldn’t, because fifteen minutes earlier, when she’d turned from the window and looked into Pramal’s eyes, she had seen the open wound across his soul that the death of his sister had inflicted upon him. And Maisie Dobbs could never turn away from such an entreaty.
“Now then, before we begin, Mr. Pramal, would you like more tea, or have we soaked you?” Maisie smiled and nodded to Billy, who pulled the chairs into a circle. He had already allowed for Sandra to join them.
“No thank you, Miss Dobbs. I have had sufficient refreshment.”
“So, you returned to India after the war—did you remain in the army?” Maisie made small talk while Billy and Sandra took their places, both with notebooks ready.
“For a while, yes. I left the service in 1920, and I am now a civil engineer with a company in Bombay, though I spend much time in other places, mainly working on water flow—irrigation, for example—and bridges.”
“Sergeant Major Pramal was an explosives man in the war—tunneling and laying explosives. Not very good for the heart, that. Takes a very calm man to do the job of blowing things up,” added Billy.
Pramal smiled. “I am pleased to be the recipient of your respect, Mr. Beale, and I understand addressing me by my army rank is ingrained in the soldier when he sees the medals, but I am happily no longer in the service of the King and Emperor.”
“But you wear your medals with much pride, Mr. Pramal,” said Maisie.
“They have their uses—for example, when I wanted to be heard at Scotland Yard. There are men there who might have passed me in the street, looking the other way, but if they’ve had military training—which many have—it remains locked in the memory, so they could not help but accord me respect when they saw my medals. In a few hours with your police force I think I was saluted more than at any other time since the war.”
Maisie smiled. “We are grateful to you, Mr. Pramal.” She paused. “Now then, this is how we go about our business, especially in an initial conversation with a new client. Though we could easily read through a series of reports provided by Inspector Caldwell, we conduct our own interview first. You may already have answered questions, and I realize there is much you cannot answer, but this helps us. The reason we are all sitting here is that we all listen in different ways, and something I miss might be noticed by either Mr. Beale or Mrs. Tapley.”
The man pressed his hands together and bowed again. “I am grateful for your attention. Please ask your questions.”
Maisie began.
“Let’s start with Usha. How old was she?”
“My sister was twenty-nine years of age, last birthday, April 15.”
“How long had she been in England?”
“She sailed with the family approximately seven years ago. It might be more. Sometimes it seems only yesterday, but at other times I can hardly remember her features.”
“Do you have the name of the family who brought her here? What about an address?”
“The Allisons. Lieutenant Colonel Allison, his wife, and three children, who were then—if my memory serves me well—two, four, and six.”
“He was an army man?” Billy interjected.
“Not at the time. He was a civil servant, with the British foreign service, as far as I know, though his army achievements were sufficiently impressive for him to continue using the form of address to which he was entitled. His wife advertised for a governess for the children, so my sister applied and was accepted for the position. She was a trained teacher, Miss Dobbs. She was with them for almost two years before they left to return to Great Britain, and she came with them.”
“I see. Did she want to come here? How did she feel about the journey, about leaving her home?”
Pramal sighed, and Maisie remembered her father, at a time when her mother was so ill, taking more money from the savings tin