‘One presumes you have an explanation for this blackguard’s actions, Lady Hardcastle,’ he said. ‘And how did you uncover his perfidy?’
‘I have both, Mr Verma,’ she said. ‘To be honest, I’m rather annoyed with myself for not thinking of it sooner, but Captain Summers actually gave us his motive the very first time we met him. He told us he intended to propose to his colonel’s daughter back in Bengal, but said that he needed to “impress” her. That should have set my mind racing at once as soon as I found out that the whole affair revolved around a gem which had been stolen from Nepal but which had passed through Bengal on its way to Europe. But I didn’t manage to put two and two together then, nor would I have if desperation hadn’t made me ask an old friend for information about one of the house guests. We had reached a dead end with our investigations and our main suspects were becoming less suspicious by the moment. And so I decided to contact my dear friend, Colonel Dawlish. Do you remember Dawlish, Captain? I believe you met in Calcutta early last year, just before he returned to England.’
The captain said nothing.
‘He certainly remembers you. I got his telegram this afternoon and he has quite a bit to say about your relationship with Lavinia Isherwood.’
At this the Captain looked up, his face scarlet with indignation. ‘How dare you!’
‘How dare I indeed,’ said Lady Hardcastle, calmly. ‘But let me tell you what I know – or surmise – and you can tell me whether it’s true. Lavinia is the eldest daughter of your regiment’s colonel, Sir Basil Isherwood. You have been besotted with her ever since she and her mother travelled to Calcutta to join the colonel two years ago. You pursued her relentlessly, but it seems her own affections were directed elsewhere, towards a dashing young subaltern. According to Colonel Dawlish, you bullied this young lad remorselessly until he requested a transfer to the North West Frontier, but even with your way clear, Lavinia still rejected you.’
The captain was still fuming, but offered no dissent.
‘The story of the Emerald Eye was well known throughout northern India, and earlier this year rumours began to circulate that the Eye was once again on the move. The barracks was alive with chatter about the gem and many of the men, enlisted and officers alike, began talking wildly about recovering the Emerald Eye, and what they’d do with the handsome reward offered by the King of Nepal for its return. You dismissed all this as foolish nonsense until you overheard a remark made by Lavinia to one of her friends at dinner. She’s a silly, romantic girl of the sort that has read much but experienced all too little, and it seems she had become enchanted by the notion of the “cursed” gemstone. She said that she would surely marry the man who was brave and resourceful enough to recover it for her.’
Still the captain said nothing, but his expression softened somewhat, presumably as he recalled the fair Lavinia.
‘Somehow – and perhaps you might one day explain how, since it seems to have eluded some of the most diligent and well-motivated investigators in the region – you managed to find out not only where the Eye was, but also where it was going. You arranged a leave of absence based on a fabricated family crisis and set off in pursuit, following the trail of the gem all the way to Paris where it was now in the hands of a shady antiquities broker named Praveer Sengupta. You witnessed a meeting in a Paris nightclub and guessed that the band leader that Sengupta was talking to was going to bring the gem into England. I confess I’m a little hazy on the next steps, but you ended up here at The Grange. I believe you were here entirely by chance, but when you found that the band you’d seen in Paris were playing here, you saw an opportunity perhaps to finally lay your hands on the Eye. It was by no means certain that they would have it with them, but what a stroke of luck if they did. You could steal the Eye and then return to Lavinia a hero. How am I doing so far, Captain?’
‘Pretty damn well,’ he said, coldly. ‘Some of the details are missing, but you’ve captured the essence of it. I never meant to kill Holloway. And if he’d not tried to play the bally hero, none of this would have happened.’
‘One might say, though,’ said Lady Hardcastle, ‘that it also wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t travelled halfway round the world on some romantic quest to impress a silly girl who cares nothing for you.’
Suddenly the captain was on his feet, a revolver in his hand. ‘Have a care, my lady,’ he said, menacingly. ‘I’ve listened to altogether too much impertinence from you as it is. How dare you judge Lavinia! A woman like you who doesn’t know her place and imagines she can behave like this? You’re a disgrace to your sex, you vicious old harpy.’
He advanced on her and I was powerless to help, trapped as I was between the inspector and the table. He took the gem from her outstretched hand and stared coldly into her unblinking eyes as he cocked the revolver. She held his gaze and the terrace held its breath.
But then there was movement. Sudden, violent movement. I had entirely misjudged Mr Verma’s servant whom I had thought a clumsy, lumbering, muscle-bound lump. He moved with the silence and grace of a man a quarter his size and before Summers had even noticed him, much less had time to react, he had grasped the captain’s wrist, angling the pistol upwards and away from Lady Hardcastle as his other hand punched him forcefully in the back. Summers fell, the pistol fired, and the Man Mountain bent and retrieved the Emerald Eye from Summers’s left hand. He backed away from the fallen captain, holding the gem in one hand and, as we all now noticed, a dagger in the other, wet with blood.
Lady Hardcastle knelt to try to assist the captain, but it was clear that he was dying.
‘Tell darling Lavinia that I loved her always,’ he whispered, but then the fight left him as he breathed his last, rattling breath.
It was as though we had awakened from a trance and suddenly there was uproar once again. The inspector was struggling to reach the Man Mountain but everyone was on their feet and he couldn’t get round the table.
Another shot rang out and Dora and Clarissa screamed in unison. We all turned to see Mr Verma brandishing a square-looking automatic pistol of his own.
‘Ladies and gentlemen!’ said Verma, loudly. ‘Take your seats, if you please.’
Those that had seats meekly sat, while those of us that did not, stood stock still.
Mr Verma ushered his servant behind him and began to back away from the table towards the steps leading down to the expansive back lawn.
‘I have my King’s gemstone, and your murderer is dead. Justice has been served.’