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she was but six years old. It burns the heart even to think of it, that there are men with such urges in
the world and women so willing to accommodate them.“
“The world is a horror,” Weaver said. “Just when one thinks he has heard every
possible sad tale, another arises.”
She shrugged. “True enough. But for purposes of my story, it would seem that
Adelaide’s mind somehow froze at that point, the point of her cruel defloration, and it was never to
grow further into adulthood. She and I were delivered to the school the same year, can you imagine?
Both of us had managed to arrive at the age of six having already outlived our usefulness to the
civilized world and thus were destined to be thrown away like yesterday’s garbage. We were
companions of a sort through the years until I grew up and she…did not. I must confess she has
always been a bit like a sister to me, both of our childhoods having been ripped in half by a singular
event. It was hard to imagine her future. Hard to imagine any place she might find refuge beyond the
school. So when the note came asking for an English nurse, I sent her.”
“The task was not arduous,” Weaver said. “You must have realized she would not
actually have to perform any nursing duties.”
Leigh Anne nodded. “But I knew nothing of the family making the request, other than the
fact they were prepared to pay handsomely for her limited services. It was only when Adelaide
returned that day, telling tales of the elephant with five legs that the memories came flooding back. I
realized for the first time that the house where I had stayed after my rescue must be here in Bombay
and I did some investigation…”
“You had her poison Rose.”
Another laugh, a bell-like sound. “Actually, if you recall, I tried to have her poison you.
But unfortunately our dear Adelaide lacks focus and thus is not an ideal accomplice in the art of
murder. She told me you took your sips of the laudanum in the evening, sometimes before she left.
And so I had her bring residue from the pods of our own suicide tree, just like the one you so
obligingly grew within your own garden. Did you know the dark purpose of that particular flower?
No, I rather doubt you did.”
“I did not take the laudanum every night,” Weaver said. “Only on those evenings
when….” He paused, mopped his brow. The sun had burned the entire garden into a single white hot
light.
“Only on those evenings when the memories rose up against your will?” Leigh Anne
asked gently. “On those nights that you knew that without the draught, sleep would prove
impossible?” She sat back with an exhalation. “We are much alike, as fate would have it, Secretary-
General. I struggle with insomnia myself.”
“If I had sipped a bit of the mixture that night,” Weaver said hollowly, “then your plan
would have been perfection. The morning would have found me sleeping an eternal sleep. And in a
man near unto seventy, there would have been no investigation at all.”
“Plans,” Leigh Anne said. “We make them and fate unmakes them. I am sorry beyond all
measure that Pulkit Sang was taken, although if you are speaking the truth about Rose’s role in my
banishment I cannot claim any particular sorrow on her behalf.”
“My wife,” Weaver said tonelessly. “She was a cold and heartless monster. I wanted
her and then I had her…and our life was a hopeless hell.”
“Indeed?” said Miss Hoffman. “Then perhaps the hand of God was working in the
mistake. His mysterious ways, and all that sort of rot. “
“People might say that you are a very unusual sort of missionary, Miss Hoffman.”