Inspector Ghote Caught in Meshes by H. R. F. Keating

Author:H. R. F. Keating [H. R. F. Keating]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2020-01-23T16:00:00+00:00

NINE

Inspector Ghote ran out of Gregory Strongbow’s empty suite. The thought which he had thrust away so hard was simple reality now: Gregory had gone. He really had broken the promise he had made not to leave without giving warning. And Shakuntala Brown had done nothing to stop him. Surely this meant she was working for India First? And if this was so, then Gregory was heading for danger once again.

At the end of the long tan-carpeted corridor he saw his carefully selected constable, sitting almost to attention on a small gilt-painted chair.

“What happened? What happened, man?” he called out.

The constable jumped to his feet.

“Is all right, Inspector sahib,” he said. “Professor Strongbow is outside as of now.”

“Outside? Outside?”

“Yes, Inspector. The party left thirty-five minutes ago, accompanied by other party.”

“Other party? You mean Miss Brown?”

The man’s expression of patent anxiety to please wilted.

“I am not knowing her name, Inspector. Please, I am very sorry.”

“Never mind her name. An English-looking girl, but wearing a sari.”

The woebegone moon-face brightened.

“Yes, Inspector. That is quite right. A green sari. It was dark green.”

“But why did you let them go?”

The constable’s face was solemn again.

“Inspector, I had orders.”

“Yes, orders to protect Professor Strongbow at all costs. He cannot be protected if we do not know where he is.”

“No, Inspector. Not those orders. Orders to telephone pretty damn’ quick if anyone tried to get into professor’s room.”

Ghote sighed.

His sense of justice compelled him to recognise that the man had indeed obeyed orders. Only too faithfully.

He swung away and hurried down to the public rooms. But as he expected there was no sign of Gregory or Shakuntala in any of them. In the foyer at the reception desk he saw the familiar, watchful form of Mira Jehangir.

He went quickly over.

“Professor Strongbow?” he snapped out. “Did you see him leave?”

But as he might have expected he did not get a straight answer.

“Professor Strongbow leave?” Mira Jehangir said, looking down at the long, painted nails of her elegant, jewel-covered hands.

“I know Professor Strongbow has left,” he said. “What I am asking is when he went, and whether he told where he was going.”

“You want to see the professor then?”

“I asked if you knew where he has gone.”

Mira Jehangir’s flickering eyes at last came to rest looking at him.

“Perhaps he just went to buy something,” she said. “There is the American Express in Dadabhai Naoroji Road also.”

“Did he say that was where he was going?”

Ghote tried to induce her to continue looking at him but in vain.

“Inspector, he tells me nothing,” Mira Jehangir said with a hint of bitterness. “He hides in his room and I do not know whether he is dead or alive.”

For a moment Ghote was tempted to pursue this answer. But he foresaw the great quagmire of evasiveness that any such questioning would produce.

“But you saw him go out,” he said. “Did you see which way he went?”

“Through the swing doors it is not possible,” Mira Jehangir replied regretfully.

Ghote glanced across at the tall doors. It was certainly true that their tinted glass blurred all figures outside them.

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