‘Can’t figure it out,’ said Lily, considering.
‘Nor could Zeman until some years later. At school in England he was idly writing out the letters which he regularly did to keep it fresh in his mind and his anger glowing when the boy at the next desk looked over and said, “I say, Khan, never would have taken you for a Scotsman!” Zeman asked him to explain. His neighbour was a McGregor and had recognized the motto of an enemy tribe – the Lindsays. “E’en do and spare not!”’
‘Look, I’m awful sorry to be slow here but I still don’t know what it means,’ Lily complained.
‘”Even do . . .”’ said Joe. ‘In other words, “Go right ahead and take no prisoners!”’
‘So when, after many years, Zeman encountered in Peshawar a certain red-haired Major Lindsay who had served on the frontier before the war he resolved to be avenged for his brothers.’
‘And Grace’s escort duty provided the perfect opportunity,’ said Joe.
‘Yes, indeed. I was supposed to be in charge of the troop but Zeman insisted on coming with us as senior officer. He counted on being invited into the fort where he could get close enough to Lindsay to kill him.’
‘Zeman? I’m finding this a bit hard to swallow,’ said Lily. ‘He was charming, he was amusing – he got on so well with James!’ She gasped and then said slowly, ‘Oh, Lord! Do you remember? I think I recall . . . when I was about to shoot that darned pheasant Zeman said, “Slay and spare not, Miss Coblenz!” Was he needling James? Saying, “I’m here. I know who you are.” Taunting him?’
‘Yes, all that. I’m sure, Lily,’ said Joe. ‘But look, Iskander, you must have seen this situation developing, have been aware of the awful consequences of such a rash act? I didn’t see you as a bloodthirsty warmonger!’
Iskander replied a little stiffly, ‘I am Afridi. I too live by the laws of pukhtunwali. I understand badal and I understand Zeman’s compulsion. In his place I would have felt the same urge to avenge my brothers. Nevertheless, the time was not an opportune one. I was uneasy because we were the guests of Major Lindsay. He had welcomed us as friends within the gates of Gor Khatri. That evening after the feast I tried to talk Zeman out of his plans, to persuade him to pursue them at a later day.’
Joe wondered whether Iskander was trying to convey a message to Lily by this little speech – ‘Once an Afridi, always an Afridi. Untameable. Untransplantable.’ Grace at any rate seemed to have understood and she flashed at Joe a look of unfathomable intensity.
‘And what were his plans?’ asked Joe, feeling he already knew the answer.
‘We were both to change into our uniforms and be ready to leave the fort by the chiga gate that night. Our men had been warned and we had bribed the guards. Zeman was to go up to Lindsay’s room in the middle of the night – he had found out from the sweeper which was Lindsay’s room – and stab him in the throat with his dagger just as Lindsay had killed his brother. I waited all night for Zeman’s signal but it never came. With some relief I assumed he’d changed his mind and I fell asleep until the noise on the stairs awoke me the next morning.’
Joe flicked a glance at Grace who was staring at the ground, determinedly silent.
‘But there were two people in James’s room,’ said Lily. ‘There was Betty. What about Betty?’
‘If she had wakened he would have killed her too. Two brothers, two lives in reparation. It would not have been my way but I do believe Zeman was corrupted by his contact with the West where it is nothing to kill a woman. An everyday occurrence you might say. I am sure Sandilands can confirm this,’ Iskander said with a touch of defiance. ‘I was unable to dissuade him.’
‘But he didn’t succeed in his attempt,’ said Joe. ‘I heard James lock his door on retiring at eleven o’clock. The downstairs rooms including yours and Zeman’s do not have locks and there was no reason to suppose that those on the first floor would have. But they do. Zeman would not have known that. If he had reached James’s room that night he would not have been able to get in without banging the door down and that didn’t happen.’ He looked again at Grace but she avoided his eye. ‘And Zeman died of poisoning. Now I know what you’re all thinking – we’ve got an easy equation here. At last we have a motive and it’s all beginning to add up. But is it? Zeman is about to attempt to kill James so James, the target, finds out somehow and forestalls the attempt by killing Zeman first in a sort of premeditated self-defence. Mmm. That makes no sense to me. I know my friend. He’s got a hell of a temper – I’ve seen him kill with a gun, a knife and even his bare hands. He wouldn’t go sneaking around popping poison in his sherbet. What have you to add, Grace?’