9308-3953

her bank draft be returned.
Hardly anyone ever says no to Gerry, Emma thought. She is unaccustomed to the
experience of having her requests denied or being treated with such cheerful and persistent
rudeness. At least Davy and I, with our working class roots, are better equipped to deal with the
Miss Hoffmans of the world.
“Very well,” Davy said, with the equanimity of a man who indeed had met many Leigh
Anne Hoffmans in his lifetime, and was sure to meet many more. “Then you must expect me to return
this evening when we can only assume Adelaide will come dragging back to food and cot and I can
fingerprint and question her then. She speaks English, so we shall not have to bother you to sit in on
that interview, which I’m sure will be a great relief to everyone.”
Sharp fellow, Emma thought, with a small smile of her own. In refusing to summon
Adelaide now – for Emma was all but certain the woman was somewhere within the schoolhouse –
Miss Hoffman had also forfeited her right to be present when Adelaide was questioned.
“And now on to our final question,” Davy continued calmly. His apprenticeship to
Trevor had taught him that to gloat over an advantage during an interview was to risk nullifying it and
besides, there was no reason to humiliate Miss Hoffman. He suspected they would need her services
yet again before this business was complete. “Will you please ask these ladies to sequence what
happened within the household after Mrs. Weaver and Sang left for the Club?”
The answers to this inquiry yielded nothing of note beyond a confirmation of what
Anthony Weaver had earlier told Trevor. Felix had taken the Secretary-General to the Byculla and
then returned to wait for the departure of Mrs. Weaver and Sang. After they too rolled off in the
general direction of the Club, the maid and cook had cleaned the remainder of the house, including the
kitchen.
Yes, nothing new to note and yet it was during all this tedious back and forth that Emma
once again heard the same phrase being repeated over and over. Miss Hoffman would spew out a
series of syllables – one could only hope she was honestly asking Davy’s question – which was
invariably answered by the women as with something that sounded like “thick high.” Sometimes they
said a few words more, and sometimes not
This “thick high” Emma thought. What does it mean?
“And so may I assume that we are at last finished?” Miss Hoffman said, when the final
question had been asked and answered. “I do not wish to limit my service to you, but it is time to
begin thinking of what I shall prepare for dinner. Would you care to stay? I am making one of my
curries and I flatter myself that, despite my English heritage, a lifetime in Bombay has somewhat
given me the knack.”
“Thank you, but we must be going,” said Geraldine. “You have been an angel of
patience but we have kept you from your many duties far too long.”
Gerry is up to something, Emma thought. Otherwise she would not be so civil to
someone who is oh-so-clearly playing us for a pack of fools.
“Oh, but one other thing - last night at the Byculla Club,” Geraldine continued, her voice
dripping with honey, “all the members were talking of a picnic planned for Friday. I believe that is
the day after tomorrow, is it not? Of course it is. One gets so confused about dates when on holiday.
But, as I was saying… a group is going out to admire the latest additions to the glorious Cawnpore
memorial. You know, the new plaques and that sort of thing. It should be a gay little trip.”
A gay little trip? Emma thought, looking at Davy, who seemed equally unsure of where
Gerry was going with all this. A gay little trip to the site of a slaughter?