Ragtime in Simla

Marie-Jea

‘Thorough? Yes, Marie-Jea

‘Oh, yes?’ said Marie-Jea

‘Table ten is right at the back of the dining room, screened from the rest of the diners by potted plants – a sort of little kala-juggah all on its own and conveniently close to the rear door. Your guest must have been a bit puzzled when you left the lunch table – but only a bit. Filled with anticipation of the best the house had to offer it may have been a moment or two before he realized that the pretty girl who returned and sat down opposite him was no longer the hard-headed bargainer but something younger and more pliable. One of your assistants? Identically dressed? Why should he complain? The waiter spoke very admiringly of her. It was discreetly done according to him and did not surprise him. It’s not unusual for him to preside over clandestine meetings of an amatory nature and his estimation that this was what was taking place was reinforced by the large tip he was given at the end of the meal. The lunch was a great success apparently and the pair rolled away through the back door a good deal the worse for copious amounts of food and two bottles of burgundy. The time was well past half-past two, nearer three, he says, and if you had indeed been present, Marie-Jea

After a long silence Alice found her voice. ‘None of this matters any longer, Joe,’ she said. ‘Don’t you see? No one is going to want to hear such things – not any more – not even George Jardine. Why don’t we just acknowledge that you’re a very clever chap? I’m sure that’s what you want to hear. And why don’t we leave it at that?’

She made to rise. She seemed suddenly uneasy, eager to end the conversation.

‘Well, I want to hear it!’ Maisie broke in angrily. ‘The whole world ought to hear it! And it’s a crying shame if there’s no way two co

‘I have to. There’s no way they can be pursued as things stand at the moment. India to the USA – that’s too far for British justice to stretch, I’m afraid.’

They were both looking at him with sly triumph. A sudden surge of anger and distress for Korsovsky shook him.

‘But Feodor was well known and much loved in America,’ he said. ‘It mightn’t be difficult to get the attention of those who would want to bring his killers to justice. Why the hell did you have to kill him, Alice? You could have just left Simla – you could have avoided him.’

Alice seemed not to know how to reply and it was Marie-Jea

‘That’s enough, Marie-Jea

Alice’s voice was curt and Joe was again aware of a lapse of confidence. The awareness was followed by the sudden gratification which accompanies the realization that an opponent at cards is bluffing. There was one more thing that Alice wanted to remain concealed, something that could still do her damage if he guessed it. And he thought he had guessed her weakness.

‘No, stay a little longer. Here come our drinks,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Marie-Jea

Alice gave him a look of guarded suspicion but Marie-Jea

‘But not unremarked, Marie-Jea

A slow smile of satisfaction acknowledged the compliment. ‘It was a man of just such talents who taught me. My father’s gamekeeper had been a soldier. He had fought the Rifis in Morocco and survived. I have a good eye and the target was not a difficult one,’ she finished modestly.

Maisie gave a snort of disgust. ‘Your target, as you call him, was a living man and your talent splattered his blood and flesh all over Joe. And I’d still like to know why. Because I’m not convinced by all this nonsense about doing it for poor little Alice.’

Marie-Jea

Undeterred, Maisie pressed on, a sudden gleam of understanding in her eyes. ‘You were doing it for yourself! Why does anyone kill? You were looking after number one! You knew this Russian was the love of her life… if he’d resurfaced in Simla who knows what might have happened? She told you she hated him but you’re clever – you weren’t deceived! Love? Hate? They’re very close. I’m guessing – and I think you guessed – she’d have had her bags packed and been off on the next boat with him! Leaving her old friend and protégée Marie-Jea

A slight flush on Marie-Jea