[Inspector de Silva 06] - Passage From Nuala Read online

  An Inspector de Silva Mystery

  Passage from Nuala

  Harriet Steel

  Contents

  Copyright

  Author’s Note and Acknowledgements

  Characters who appear regularly in the Inspector de Silva Mysteries.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Other Books by Harriet Steel

  Copyright

  Kindle edition 2019

  Copyright © Harriet Steel

  The author or authors assert their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author or authors of this work. All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Author’s Note and Acknowledgements

  Welcome to the sixth book in my Inspector de Silva mystery series. Like the earlier ones, this is a self-contained story but, wearing my reader’s hat, I usually find that my enjoyment of a series is deepened by reading the books in order and getting to know major characters well. With that in mind, I have included thumbnail sketches of those featuring here who took a major part in previous stories. I have also reprinted this introduction, with apologies to those who have already read it.

  Four years ago, I had the great good fortune to visit the island of Sri Lanka, the former Ceylon. I fell in love with the country straight away, awed by its tremendous natural beauty and the charm and friendliness of its people who seem to have recovered extraordinarily well from the tragic civil war between the two main ethnic groups, the Sinhalese and the Tamils. I had been planning to write a detective series for some time and when I came home, I decided to set it in Ceylon in the 1930s, a time when British Colonial rule created interesting contrasts, and sometimes conflicts, with traditional culture. Thus, Inspector Shanti de Silva and his friends were born.

  I owe many thanks to everyone who helped with this book. My editor, John Hudspith, was, as usual, invaluable and Jane Dixon Smith designed another excellent cover for me, as well as doing the elegant layout. Praise from the many readers who told me that they enjoyed the previous books in this series and wanted to know what Inspector de Silva and his friends got up to next encouraged me to keep going. Above all, heartfelt thanks go to my husband, Roger, without whose unfailing encouragement and support I might never have reached the end.

  Apart from well-known historical figures, all characters in the book are fictitious. Nuala is also fictitious although loosely based on the hill town of Nuwara Eliya. Any mistakes are my own.

  Characters who appear regularly in the Inspector de Silva Mysteries.

  Inspector Shanti de Silva. He began his police career in Ceylon’s capital city, Colombo, but, in middle age, he married and accepted a promotion to inspector in charge of the small force in the hill town of Nuala. Likes: a quiet life with his beloved wife; his car; good food; his garden. Dislikes: interference in his work by his British masters; formal occasions. Race and religion: Sinhalese, Buddhist.

  Sergeant Prasanna. In his mid-twenties, married with a baby daughter, and doing well in his job. Likes: cricket and is exceptionally good at it. Race and religion: Sinhalese, Buddhist.

  Constable Nadar. A few years younger than Prasanna and less confident. Married with a baby boy. Likes: his food; making toys for his baby son. Dislikes: sleepless nights. Race and religion: Tamil, Hindu.

  The British:

  Jane de Silva. She came to Ceylon as a governess to a wealthy colonial family and met and married de Silva a few years later. A no-nonsense lady with a dry sense of humour. Likes: detective novels, cinema, and dancing. Dislikes: snobbishness.

  Archie Clutterbuck. Assistant government agent in Nuala and as such, responsible for administration and keeping law and order in the area. Likes: his Labrador, Darcy; fishing; hunting big game. Dislikes: being argued with; the heat.

  Florence Clutterbuck. Archie’s wife, a stout, forthright lady. Likes: being queen bee; organising other people. Dislikes: people who don’t defer to her at all times.

  William Petrie. Government agent for the Central Province and therefore Archie Clutterbuck’s boss. A charming exterior hides a steely character. Likes: getting things done. Dislikes: inefficiency.

  Lady Caroline Petrie. His wife and a titled lady in her own right. She is a charming and gentle person.

  Doctor David Hebden. Doctor for the Nuala area. He travelled widely before ending up in Nuala. Unmarried and hitherto, under his professional shell, rather shy. Likes: cricket. Dislikes: formality.

  Emerald Watson. She arrived in Nuala with a touring British theatre company and decided to stay. She’s a popular addition to local society, especially where Doctor Hebden is concerned. Her full story is told in Offstage in Nuala.

  Charlie Frobisher. A junior member of staff in the Colonial Service. A personable young man who is tipped to do well. Likes: sport and climbing mountains.

  Chapter 1

  ‘Oh Shanti, I feel like a little girl who’s been waiting for Christmas, and now it’s come!’

  Jane put down the letter she’d just read, a broad smile on her face. The postman had delivered it while they were having breakfast. De Silva had told the man at Thomas Cook, the travel agents, that it was to be addressed to Jane.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re pleased, my love.’

  ‘Oh, I’m more than pleased. You know how much I’ve wanted to see Egypt and the pyramids. It’s all so exciting.’ Her expression clouded. ‘But are you quite sure we can afford it, dear? It’s the same ship that Florence Clutterbuck went on, and it sounds very grand.’

  ‘If the ship’s good enough for Florence, it’s good enough for us.’

  Jane frowned. ‘You know what I mean, dear.’

  He reached across the table and patted her hand. ‘I do, but there’s no need to worry – we can afford to treat ourselves. I have my long-service bonus, remember? And, on top of that, we’ve never spent much of the money my parents left me.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure, then there’s nothing I’d like better.’

  A mischievous twinkle came into her eyes. ‘I may need some new clothes, though.’

  ‘Naturally. Oh, and I have another surprise.’

  ‘Gracious!’

  ‘Only a little one this time. Wait here.’

  He left the room and returned a few moments later carrying a brown leather case the size of half a brick.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I’ll show you.’

  Carefully, he removed the camera from its case. ‘I’ve fancied having one of these for quite a while now, and this seemed
the perfect time. It’s a Kodak. I bought it from the shop in Hatton. I bought plenty of rolls of film too. I’ll be able to take lots of photographs of the places we visit, so we’ll remember them perfectly when we come home.’

  ‘That’s a marvellous idea.’

  ‘I thought so.’

  She hesitated. ‘But is it complicated to work?’

  ‘Have you no faith in my abilities? It’ll be a slice of cake.’

  Jane smiled. ‘A piece of cake, dear. Seriously, mightn’t it be a good idea to practise a little before you take it on our holiday?’

  ‘I intend to, and we have the perfect occasion coming up.’

  ‘You mean Archie and Florence’s annual garden party at the Residence?’

  ‘Yes.’

  **

  The day of the garden party was a little cooler than usual. De Silva was glad of it; he knew from experience that there wasn’t a great deal of shade in the Residence’s garden.

  He and Jane arrived punctually at three o’clock and, once they had said hello to Archie and Florence who were waiting to greet their guests, began to walk around the garden.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mrs de Silva. Inspector de Silva.’

  De Silva and Jane turned from admiring a flowerbed to find Charlie Frobisher beaming at them.

  ‘Why, Mr Frobisher,’ said Jane. ‘How nice to see you. Isn’t it a lovely day for a garden party?’

  ‘Indeed, it is, Mrs de Silva.’

  They chatted for a while until Frobisher saw their mutual boss, Archie Clutterbuck, beckoning him over.

  ‘Will you excuse me? I think duty calls.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Jane with a smile.

  ‘What a charming young man,’ she remarked as Frobisher walked away.

  ‘Let me guess. You’re still plotting a match for him.’

  ‘It does seem a dreadful waste that he’s not married. There aren’t many eligible bachelors in Nuala.’

  She looked around at the crowd of guests. De Silva followed her eyes and saw Archie talking to Emerald Watson and Doctor Hebden – another of Jane’s matchmaking targets.

  ‘Jane, people must be allowed to make their own choice. We did.’

  ‘I know, but David Hebden and Emerald do seem a perfect match. Dear Doctor Hebden is prone to be a little too serious, so Emerald would lighten him up. They could play golf together. I believe they both enjoy the game.’

  De Silva observed the couple for a moment. David Hebden certainly did look more relaxed than usual. He was listening intently to what Emerald Watson was saying and laughing a lot.

  He chuckled. ‘I’m glad you have it all worked out, my love. Now that their future is decided, I think I’ll get on with taking some photographs. I noticed the regal lilies by the summer house are looking particularly splendid today.’

  Jane drifted away to talk to friends and de Silva started to get to grips with the camera. He had already had some practice at Sunnybank, but the Residence gardens were far more extensive and, as well as the pretty summerhouse, had several interesting garden follies.

  When he had used up most of the exposures on the film roll, he decided to have a rest from photography and went to watch the young people who had taken up Archie’s offer to use the Residence tennis courts. Settled in a patch of shade and a deckchair, he observed the two couples who were playing mixed doubles. Tennis, he reflected, was quite an interesting game, although not one his countrymen had ever much taken to. Their passion was cricket.

  ‘A penny for your thoughts?’

  He looked up to see that Jane had joined him.

  ‘Oh, nothing important. I was just enjoying a quiet sit, watching other people run about.’

  ‘Then you won’t want to join in the game of rounders Charlie Frobisher is organising for the young people.’

  He stood up and went to fetch another deckchair. ‘Far too energetic,’ he said when he came back with it. ‘Anyway, it’s a long time since I was a young person.’

  Side by side, they sat and watched for a few minutes, the rhythmic thud of racket on ball providing a soothing counterpoint to the drowsy heat of the afternoon.

  ‘Ah, there you are.’ Archie Clutterbuck’s jovial tones brought them back to the present. Archie shaded his eyes with one hand and scrutinised play. ‘I used to be fond of a game of tennis, but too damned hot for me in this country. Golf’s more my line.’

  He chortled. ‘Mixed doubles can be a bit of a blood sport. Many an engagement’s been broken over a disputed point.’

  De Silva smiled in return. It seemed the appropriate reaction, although he never ceased to wonder at the oddity of the British capacity for taking their sports so seriously. Of course, it was a different matter where cricket was concerned. That was entirely justified.

  Florence’s dulcet tones reached his ears. She joined them and smiled up at Archie. ‘Do you remember all those tennis parties when we were young, dear? Why, I recall we first met at one given by the Frasers.’

  ‘Eh? Oh yes, the Frasers. Lived in Twickenham.’

  ‘Richmond, dear.’

  ‘Had two very pretty daughters.’

  Florence sniffed. ‘I don’t recall them being especially noteworthy.’

  Archie tucked her arm in his. ‘I expect I’m mistaken. In any case, I only had eyes for you, my dear.’

  Jane and de Silva exchanged amused glances. Archie was obviously enjoying his own party.

  ‘Didn’t know you were a photography enthusiast, de Silva,’ he remarked, looking at the camera case that de Silva had hung over the arm of his deckchair.

  ‘The camera’s a recent purchase. I thought it would be useful on our holiday.’

  ‘Ah yes, your cruise. Which ship are you going on?’

  ‘I told you, dear,’ interrupted Florence. ‘The Jewel of the East, the one I sailed on. I’m sure you’ll have a marvellous time,’ she continued, addressing the de Silvas. ‘I hear the Petries will be on board too. They’re going home to England on leave, you know.’

  ‘I don’t suppose we’ll see anything of the Petries on the ship,’ remarked de Silva, as the Clutterbucks walked away to talk to some of their other guests. ‘They’re bound to be in Cabin Class. I’m afraid that was rather too expensive,’ he added apologetically.

  ‘I’m not sure I’d want to be there anyway. Too formal, from how Florence described it. No, Tourist Class will suit me very well. I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time.’

  Later, as dusk crept on, and the party came to an end, Jane and de Silva returned to the Morris. In the line of departing cars, it edged down the drive and onto the main road. As the traffic jam cleared, de Silva pressed his foot on the accelerator and the needle climbed. He rested his elbow on the sill of the open window and felt a cooling wind. He could almost imagine that they were already on the ocean, enjoying the sea breeze.

  Chapter 2

  Jane gazed up at the sleek, black hull of the Blue Star Line’s Jewel of the East. The white-painted railings of the decks above gleamed in the sunshine. Three massive black funnels topped off the impressive picture, the two to the fore and aft belching grey smoke into the azure sky.

  ‘The middle funnel is just for show,’ de Silva remarked. ‘To balance out the ship’s silhouette. Magnificent, isn’t she?’

  He paused and took another photograph. ‘She weighs nearly sixty thousand tons,’ he went on, ‘and she can reach a speed of twenty-two knots in calm seas. I’m afraid though, that we’ll have to share her with a lot of other people.’

  ‘You’ve been doing your homework, dear,’ said Jane with a laugh. ‘But I’m sure sharing with other people won’t be a problem. There looks to be a great deal of room.’

  Crowds thronged Colombo’s passenger dock: some, like de Silva and Jane, boarding the ship; others waving off passengers, or merely curious to see the Jewel at close quarters and watch her put to sea. Not far from where they stood, a gleaming, black Bentley was being hoisted into the hold. De Silva held his breath. Hundreds of pounds
worth of remarkable engineering and design hung from those ropes. Covetable as the car was, at that moment, he was glad it didn’t belong to him. Fondly, he thought of his beloved Morris, safe in the garage at Sunnybank.

  The Bentley swung out of sight and de Silva exhaled. Further down the quayside, workmen, stripped to their loincloths, laboured under the weight of sides of meat, sacks of flour, coffee and tea, and boxes of vegetables and fruits. Chickens, presumably being taken on board for their eggs or for the table, poked their heads between the slats of wooden crates, making a tremendous racket.

  ‘I’ve heard that in the old days, some passenger ships even took a dairy cow on board,’ said de Silva. ‘So that you British could have fresh milk with your tea.’

  ‘You’d need a whole herd of cows now.’

  De Silva beckoned to the rickshaw driver who had followed them from their hotel with their luggage. They had stayed in Colombo the previous night after travelling down by train from Nuala. ‘I’ll wait here with the luggage,’ he said to the man. ‘You go and find us a couple of porters to take it on board.’

  The man nodded and hurried away. De Silva paid off the second rickshaw driver who had driven him and Jane, and they settled down to wait. Luckily, they didn’t have to do so for long; the first rickshaw man was soon back with two porters. In what seemed no time at all, they were following their luggage up one of the gangways to the deck where the Tourist Class cabins were situated.

  So far, so good, thought de Silva with a modicum of relief. The Hatton representative of the travel agent, Thomas Cook, had repeatedly assured him that everything would run like clockwork, but it would be good to get to their cabin and relax for a while. He hoped it would be a comfortable one. The representative had also promised it would be and added that they were very fortunate.