Free Ellis Peters - George Felse 11 - Death To The Landlords by Ellis Peters Page B

again. And Priya smiled faintly but genuinely, and smudged the tears away again. No new ones followed them.
    ‘It’s all right – that is, it isn’t anything unexpected. I didn’t look for anything else. But I told you, it never gets any more bearable when you lose one…’
    ‘But what’s that inspector been doing to you?’
    ‘He is very kind, and it was nice of him to think of telling me. Of course he knew it was what I really expected, but how did he know, then, that it still mattered so much?’
    ‘But what did he say to you?’ Patti persisted furiously.
    ‘He sent for me to tell me that Ajit Ghose is dead.’
    ‘Oh,
no
!’ Patti whispered.
    ‘But of course! It was foolish to consider any other possibility, because practically speaking there
was
no other possibility. But still one tries. He died on the operating table. They got him so far alive.’
    ‘Then he never spoke? He never had the chance to tell them anything?’
    ‘He never recovered consciousness at all.’ She went on assembling her belongings in a neat pile, and looked round the room to make sure nothing had been forgotten. ‘After breakfast I think he means to let us all leave. I mean the inspector, of course. He was most kind. He tried to comfort me by telling me something more – that it is perhaps as well that Ajit Ghose died. He said I could also tell you, if I thought it would help to compose your mind.’
    ‘I shall be seeing him,’ Patti said, staring sombrely into her own thoughts.
    ‘He says it isn’t necessary, unless you wish it. Besides, it really does seem unnecessary now. He told me that Ajit Ghose came from Bengal only a month or so ago, just as Romesh told us, and it was true that he asked for the duties to be changed so that he could go with Mr Bakhle’s boat. Romesh thought it was for the sake of a big tip, but now it seems he may have had other reasons.’
    Patti’s eyes changed their focus, stared at the incredible idea, and turned then to stare at Priya. ‘You mean that
he
planted…? The boat-boy himself? Of course I see he was the only one who could do it without any difficulty or risk at all, but then…
No risk
! My God, I’m crazy! Why, it would be suicide!’
    ‘Well, not quite, as they see it. Though if they’re right he must have been willing to accept the risk of suicide. They say he was a fine swimmer, he may have intended to slip overboard and swim clear before the explosion, but he would need to leave it until the last few minutes, you see. And as it turns out, the bomb was a little faulty. It went off ten minutes before time.’
    Patti pondered, wide-eyed, wringing her hands restlessly in the lap of her demure shirt-dress. Her face was quite blank, her pale pupils fixed. ‘But they must have more than that, to be so sure. There must be something else they know.’
    ‘Yes, there is. They’ve been going through his things. People like Ajit don’t have much – a few clothes, a blanket, a bed-roll, maybe a pot or two, a few books if they’re literate. He was – barely, but he had one or two books. One was “Shakuntala” – you know it? In among the pages they found several Naxalite leaflets and some Maoist literature. It is what they expected. What they were looking for.’
    Patti sat quite still and silent, gazing before her. ‘And you think,’ she said, ‘that it’s really true? They’re sure of it? He threw his own life away to make sure of taking Bakhle’s life? Then he wasn’t just the pathetic, innocent victim I thought he was? My God!’ she said, more to herself than to Priya, ‘It’s terrifying!’
    ‘He thought it would put my mind at rest,’ Priya said with a rueful smile. ‘The inspector, I mean. So that I should know that, too – that he wasn’t just an innocent victim, that he died as the result of his own act. He thought it would make a difference!’
    ‘Doesn’t it?’ demanded Patti, astonished. ‘It does to me.’
    ‘It doesn’t to me, not very much. I