The Midnight Palace - Carlos Ruiz Zafon [62]
‘When you’re ready, come and find me,’ the fiery spirit whispered. ‘You know where I am …’
A second later Jawahal grabbed Sheere again, pulling her through the wall of the house as if it were merely a curtain of smoke. Before he passed out, Ben heard the echo of the train as it rode away into the distance.
‘HE’S COMING ROUND,’ murmured a voice hundreds of miles away.
Ben tried to make out the fuzzy shapes moving in front of him and soon recognised some familiar faces. Hands made him comfortable and placed a soft object under his head. Ben blinked repeatedly. Ian’s eyes were red and despairing – he was watching his friend anxiously. Next to him were Seth and Roshan.
‘Ben, can you hear us?’ asked Seth. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in a week.
Ben suddenly remembered and abruptly tried to sit up. The three boys made him lie down again.
‘Where’s Sheere?’
Ian, Seth and Roshan looked at one another.
‘She’s not here, Ben,’ Ian replied at last.
Ben felt the sky falling on top of him and closed his eyes.
‘What happened?’ he asked after a moment.
‘I woke up before you two,’ Ian explained, ‘so I decided to go out and find something to eat. On the way I met Seth, who was coming over to the house. When we returned we saw that all the windows were closed and there was smoke coming from inside. We found you unconscious. Sheere wasn’t here.’
‘Jawahal has taken her.’
Ian and Seth exchanged a look.
‘What’s the matter? What have you found out?’
Seth ran both hands through his thick shock of hair, pushing it away from his forehead.
‘I’m not sure that this Jawahal exists, Ben,’ he declared. ‘I think Aryami lied to us.’
‘What are you talking about? Why would she lie to us?’
Seth summarised the discoveries they’d made at the museum and explained that there was no mention of Jawahal in any of the documents relating to the trial, except for that one letter addressed to the engineer and signed by Colonel Llewelyn, who had covered up the matter for some reason. Ben listened to their revelations in amazement.
‘That doesn’t prove a thing,’ he objected. ‘Jawahal was sentenced and imprisoned. He escaped sixteen years ago and that was when his crimes began.’
Seth sighed, shaking his head.
‘I went to the Curzon Fort prison, Ben,’ he said glumly. ‘There was no escape and no fire sixteen years ago. The jail burnt down in 1857. Jawahal could never have escaped from a prison that had ceased to exist for decades before his trial took place. A trial in which he isn’t even mentioned. It just doesn’t add up.’
Ben stared at him open-mouthed.
‘She lied to us, Ben,’ said Seth. ‘Your grandmother lied to us.’
‘Where is she now?’
‘Michael is out looking for her,’ Ian explained. ‘When he finds her he’ll bring her here.’
‘And where are the others?’
Roshan looked hesitantly at Ian. Ian nodded gravely.
‘Tell him,’ he said.
MICHAEL STOPPED TO WATCH the evening haze spread over the eastern bank of the Hooghly. Dozens of human figures, partly covered in white threadbare robes, were dipping into the river, the sum of their voices lost in the murmur of the current. The sound of doves flapping their wings, rising above the jungle of palaces and faded domes along the luminous river, made him think of a shadowy Venice.
‘Are you looking for me?’ said the old woman. She was sitting a few metres away, her face hidden by a veil.
Michael looked at her and she lifted the veil. Aryami Bose’s deep eyes were pale in the evening light.
‘We don’t have much time,’ said Michael. ‘Not any more.’
Aryami nodded and slowly rose to her feet. Michael offered her his arm and the two set off under cover of dusk towards the house of Chandra Chatterghee.
THE FIVE FRIENDS GATHERED around Aryami Bose. Patiently, they