Doctor Who_ All-Consuming Fire - Andy Lane [71]
We jerked again, and dropped to a crawl. The station crept closer and I could suddenly see where everybody was. The platform was alive with a churning crowd. Hordes of people poured out from the shaded area beneath the platform itself, careless of the approaching train. I shivered, reminded of a stream of cockroaches. A terrific gabble of voices in a Babel of languages assailed our ears.
'Tahsa char, garumi garum!'
Pahn biri! Pahn biri!'
Hindi pani, Musselman pans' 'Beecham Sahib ki gooli!'
I turned to Professor . . . to Bernice.
'Did I hear the word Beecham?'
'Indeed you did,' she replied. 'He's offering us some of Mr Beecham's little pills. Does that mean anything to you?'
'Indigestion tablets!' I laughed.
'Well, you learn something every day,' she murmured. 'But is it ever useful?'
The train shuddered to a halt. Beyond our window a wall of faces watched us with no hint of decorum. We stepped out onto the station. It felt good to be able to stretch my legs. Holmes locked the door and the crowd cleared a way for us as we made our way along the platform towards the dining car.
Beggars implored us for alms, sweetmeat sellers beseeched us to buy their wares and those Indians who were travelling onward from here in the third or fourth-class carriages bustled around with broken umbrellas looking self-important. Those unable or unwilling to pay for tickets on the train were climbing onto the roof, joining those who had been there since Bombay.
Ahead of us a small cadre of British soldiers had disembarked and were trying to form up into some sort of order before marching off.
Bernice dickered with an ice seller, then borrowed a key to the carriage from Holmes so that she could leave it to cool the compartment down. We found the dining car and secured a table in its cool, dark interior.
'This may seem like a stupid question,' Bernice said when she joined us,
'but how come we can find huge great blocks of ice at these one-horse towns in the middle of God's own oven?'
'The Carres Ice Machine,' Holmes pronounced. He loved to show off. 'Most stations will have one. The device contains a cylinder of ammonia which is heated and then plunged into water. The liquid, confined in such a small space, absorbs heat from the metal and then the water in order to evaporate, causing the water to turn to ice. A most interesting device. I was involved in a case recently where a Mr Matthew Jolly was murdered with a Carres Ice Machine.'
'I don't recall that case, Hohnes,' I said stiffly.
'I believe I did draw some of its features to your attention.'
The train quivered, and began to heave its vast bulk out of the station. For the first half of our journey, stationmasters had politely sought Holmes's permission for the train to leave their stations - something to do with him being the most senior traveller. Somebody more important must have joined the train at Gadawara, as we were no longer bothered by such requests.
A great wail went up outside. I looked out of the window, only to find it blocked by a swarm of naked children who clung to the frame and gazed at us with imploring spaniel eyes. The stewards rushed up and down the aisle rapping their little knuckles with spoons until they dropped away, screeching.
'Don't leave me in suspense!' Bernice said eagerly. 'What happened to Mr Jolly?'
'His wife, Josephine, had purchased one of the devices some months beforehand. On the night in question, she waited until he fell asleep downstairs, as was his habit after drinking heavily, then manoeuvred the device so that his head was resting in the water. She then activated it'
'You don't mean . . .?' She was aghast.
'His brain froze whilst he slept. She waited until the water had thawed again and then moved the machine back to the pantry. He was found dead by the maid in the morning without a mark upon him.'
Bernice shivered. 'What a way to go. Why did she do it?'