‘Mind! I’d be very relieved!’
Joe had hardly lit the promised cigarette before James emerged, half amused, half exasperated. ‘I don’t believe this! The bastard! He’s on the bloody golf course! On the golf course! The fate of nations hangs in the balance and the Commissioner is on the golf course! That’s what’s wrong with the Indian Empire! You’ve no idea how often this happens.’
‘So how did you leave it?’ said Joe.
‘Well, just for once I took a strong line. I said, “This is a grade one emergency. I don’t want to talk to anyone else about it. Get him back at the double.” Was I right?’
‘Right? Of course you were right!’
Joe took a sheet of foolscap paper and began to write.
To Muhammed Iskander Khan, Captain in the service of HM the Amir of Afghanistan.
Sir,
I have received and read with interest your communication of the 20th April 1922 and in respect of this seek confirmatory instructions from my superiors. In the meantime:–
1. I see no reason to reject the findings of the preliminary autopsy performed on the body of Major Zeman Khan here at the fort.
2. We are discussing an event which took place on British territory and as such the matter will be judged under the provisions of British law which must be upheld.
3. Obviously, I will be prepared to initiate a full investigation of the circumstances surrounding the death of Zeman Khan but would not be prepared to embark on this while the issue is clouded by the illegal apprehension and sequestration of Lord Rathmore.
4. No further steps will be taken in the matter until His Lordship has been returned to our care in good health. As a necessary preliminary to any investigation I must insist that you make arrangements accordingly forthwith.
5. The reaction of HMG to any failure on your part to meet this condition will be prompt, resolute and effective.
‘“Prompt, resolute and effective”, indeed!’ said James. ‘Sounds good . . .’
‘It’s not very good,’ said Joe, ‘but if you’re talking to the Commissioner it might be sensible to read it to him. I think you shouldn’t utter a threat of tough stuff to come without his approval.’
‘I very much agree,’ said James. ‘What do we do in the meantime?’
‘Do what I’m about to do,’ said Joe, ‘have a whisky and soda. Steady the quaking nerves.’
At this moment the telephone rang. ‘It’s Peshawar,’ said James, his hand over the receiver.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ said Joe. ‘But be bloody, bold and resolute! Nothing to hide, after all.’
‘You never know how he’s going to take things,’ said James nervously. ‘Sometimes he can be all sweetness and reason and sometimes he can be an absolute sod!’
‘Only one way to find out,’ said Joe and, patting him on the shoulder, he stepped out into the sunshine and looked out on to the fort, puzzled to find his friend, usually so decisive, now apparently in retreat.
Faintly he could hear James speaking. Faintly he measured the intervals for reply. This went on for a long time. For a very long time in Joe’s estimation. He fought off the temptation to stand at James’s elbow and listen. He waited and waited until at last James appeared, flushed but, Joe was glad to notice, seemingly relieved and seemingly more cheerful.
‘Well?’ said Joe.
‘Well!’ said James. ‘I think – well! The first thing I told him was that this was getting a bit beyond me . . .’
‘Can’t think why you said that,’ said Joe, ‘you’re doing very well.’
‘Not as well as all that. I explained to him that this had become a complicated police enquiry and that I’d got quite enough to do commanding the fort without going round on hands and knees with a magnifying glass. While I was there he put a call through to Simla. I don’t know what’s happened to the Posts and Telegraph Department of the Indian Empire but the speed with which these things are handled still surprises me – and the long and short of it is that I spoke to Sir George Jardine himself and – old boy – I hope you won’t be too horrified – but you’re still on attachment to the Bengal Police and, like it or lump it, you’ve been appointed to initiate, conduct and complete the enquiry! The return of Sherlock Sandilands in fact and – honestly – I simply can’t tell you how relieved I am. Sorry, Joe! Didn’t mean to drop you in the shit. But at least you’ve now got some official status. And, having cleared that out of the way – and I explained the whole plot to him – he said, “This is too important to be dealt with locally. It has to go up to the Council. And we need some political involvement.”’