The Palace Tiger

Chapter Twenty-Two

This was the last thing in the world Joe wanted to hear and for a moment his mind refused to take in what Sir Hector was saying. He stifled the automatic objections that leapt to his lips and instead sat down, silently absorbing the doctor’s assertion, made carefully, unwillingly and fearfully. It was not an assertion he could dismiss out of hand.

‘You mean you’re not happy with the circumstances of the death as reported?’ he asked. ‘Surely nothing could be clearer?’ He pointed to the claw in the dish. ‘He even left his calling card.’

‘And there’s the problem,’ said Sir Hector. ‘Just follow a thought through with me, will you, Joe?’ He sighed and tugged at his moustache in his anxiety. ‘I’m sure you’ll say I’m being unnecessarily pedantic and after all, if you look at the line-up of witnesses closely involved — two top police officers, the best tiger hunter south of the Himalayas, the Resident, the maharanee, Sir George’s trusted hatchet-man. . well, who am I to throw a spanner in the works and tell you you’re all deluded?’

‘And is that what you’re saying? Come on! Out with it! What have you seen?’

‘Unfortunately, I haven’t got my microscope to hand. .’ He rummaged in his bag and produced a hand-held lens. ‘I use this for removing splinters and suchlike. It will have to do.’

He leant over the table and examined the claw again with the aid of the glass. ‘Ah! Yes! I was not mistaken. Here, take a look yourself, Joe.’

Joe looked and blinked and looked again.

‘Could you perhaps wash the rest of the blood off, Sir Hector? We need to be quite certain about this. . Thank you. Yes, that’s even clearer.’ He spoke slowly. ‘To my inexperienced eye, this claw has a slight striation along the length of it which might be a split or crack; it has a chip at what you might call the business end and the whole claw has a yellowed appearance.’ He looked up at Hector. ‘In fact it reminds me of nothing so much as my great-aunt Hester’s teeth in her declining days. Hector! This is the claw of an old tiger!’

Hector nodded. ‘Colin! You must fetch Colin!’

It was pitiful to see the change that had come over the old hunter in the last two hours. Like a man just hanging on to the threads of consciousness after a stunning blow to the skull, Joe thought. Colin was going through the remembered motions of polite response but his spirit was somewhere beyond reach. Blaming himself for the whole fiasco, Joe realized, and he acknowledged that in his place he would have reacted in the same way. He guessed that Colin would have seen in Joe’s eyes a reflection of his own pain and guilt had he been able to focus on anything other than his inner turmoil.

He followed Joe without question back to the doctor’s tent. Joe handed him the magnifying glass. ‘Look at this object in the dish and tell us what you see.’

Colin studied the claw and then said with a note of puzzlement creeping in, ‘A claw. Tiger claw. Well worn. . chipped. . judging by its colour I’d say from a mature if not aged beast. What is all this?’

Joe and Hector looked at each other. ‘That’s what we thought. Would it surprise you to hear that I’ve just extracted it from the boy’s throat wound?’

‘Yes, it would. The old tigress went nowhere near the thicket where Bahadur was found. He was killed by the cub,’ said Colin patiently. ‘And, anyway, I’ve never come across a claw being left in a wound before. Just doesn’t happen.’

‘Colin,’ said Joe gently, ‘that’s a claw I’ve just witnessed being taken from Bahadur’s throat.’

Colin was beginning to rally and recover his old sharpness. ‘Something wrong here. . I think we should have another look at the wound, don’t you? Sir Hector, would you. .?’

They gathered around the body, taking care to leave elbow room for Sir Hector as he retrieved his instrument. Joe held up the magnifying lens in position for him as he worked. Suddenly he stopped and grunted. ‘Pass me that probe, will you? Third item from the right, top row. . There it is. I’m sure I’m not mistaken. Oh, good God!’

‘There’s what?’ hissed Joe.

‘Deep wound to the jugular. Severs the vein. And not delivered by a tiger’s claw. Much, much deeper than a claw could penetrate. It’s straight. . slim. Insignificant surface entry marks and these camouflaged by subsequent laceration administered by the claws. Two sharp edges, clean cut. The skin has retracted over the mouth of the exit making a very small wound indeed. Very easy to miss. Stiletto? Isn’t that what those Italian blades are called? Went in at an angle, so delivered by someone taller than the victim. But then, who isn’t?’

He put down his probe. ‘I’d say the lad was killed by a stab to the jugular. It could have been delivered from behind. There’s the faintest bruising on the jaw. Here, Joe, kneel down for a second, will you?’ He demonstrated, advancing on Joe from behind, grabbing his chin and holding his head firmly. ‘Not a good idea to pull the head up too far — you can lose the arteries behind the windpipe but that’s not generally known. We’ll assume our man pulled upwards. Such a small throat, he wouldn’t have had a problem.’ He raised his scalpel and Joe cringed as he brought it down sharply, the point hovering over his exposed throat. ‘Clear run at the neck, you see, and that way the jet of blood is directed away from you and you don’t emerge from the undergrowth covered in blood. There would have been a lot of blood. . And the boy was standing at the time, as you see from the blood trails on his clothing.’

‘But the claw wounds, Hector? What are you saying about them? Were they inflicted before, at the same time as or after the insertion of the blade? Did the tiger come across him as he lay dead? Can you tell?’

Sir Hector sighed. ‘Speaking generally, post-mortem wounds are diagnosed by the absence of signs of vital reaction. If a wound is made while the victim is still alive, tiny blood vessels are ruptured and the heart — if it’s still beating — forces blood into the tissues around the damaged area. The blood clots and it’s difficult to remove by washing. Pass me the water and that sponge over there. I’ll see what I can do.’

He worked on, muttering about microscopes, white cells and leucocytes, only half expecting Joe to follow. Finally, he put down his instruments and washed his hands, saying thoughtfully, ‘Difficult to believe but the claw wounds seem to have been inflicted at the same time as, or as near as makes no difference, immediately after, the stab to the neck.’

Hector shook his head. ‘The poor chap appears to have been mangled as he was dying by an elderly tiger with a loose claw but that’s as far as I can go with the medical evidence. Beyond this point I’m out of my territory. Sorry, but it has to be over to you and Colin now. I’ve done all I can and probably said more than is warranted — or safe.’

‘Hector, thank you! You’ve been most meticulous. No one else would have noticed there was anything wrong and what fools we would have been. Look, can I ask you both to say nothing of what we’ve seen for the moment?’

Colin and Hector nodded their agreement and Joe went on, ‘And I’m sure you’d understand the reason if I were to suggest that the next step might be a second autopsy?’

Hector began to look affronted but Colin nodded. ‘I see where you’re going with this, Joe. You wouldn’t have been about to call for an autopsy on a tiger, would you?’

‘Exactly that!’

‘Oh, er, I’m afraid you’ll have to count me out, old boy. Not my area of expertise at all,’ Hector demurred.

‘It’s all right, Hector,’ said Colin. ‘You’re looking at a world-class dissector of tigers! I always remove the paws, the head and the pelt, sometimes with nothing more than a penknife. It’s expected. No one will think anything of it if I go and do that right away. In this heat, the sooner the better. Will you come with me, Joe?’

They found the tigers where the bearers had left them in a small clearing next to the supply tent. Many men had gathered round to marvel at the size of the beasts, to gossip and to commit to memory every detail of their deaths at the hands of the scarred sahib. And here was more excitement. The eagerly anticipated moment when O’Connor Sahib would skin them. Murmurs of encouragement greeted Colin and the freshly bandaged Joe as they approached to examine the bodies.

‘Start with the young one, shall we?’ said Colin briskly. Joe found he could in all honour not look away when all the eyes of the admiring crowd were trained on the swift silver knife as it worked over and through the body. He found it helped to concentrate on Colin’s matter-of-fact commentary delivered in Hindi and English. Off came the paws with a cursory examination. ‘Trace of blood on the right front. Healthy young beast. About three years old, I’d say. Not much wear on the claws. All five on each front paw intact and four claws on each of the hind paws.’ Catching Joe’s flash of interest, he added, ‘Tigers only have four claws on the back paws, Joe.’ He turned his attention to the head. ‘Do you want this prepared to hang over your desk at Scotland Yard, Joe? It’s yours by rights!’

The head was set on one side to be collected by the palace skin-curer and the pelt followed, Colin rolling it up carefully. ‘They say a diet of human flesh is bad for tigers but I must say I’ve never found any evidence of that. Always seem to be in perfectly good condition. This one certainly was. The other one now?’

He moved over to the tigress and the crowd murmured savagely under its breath. They knew who was the real villain. They knew it was the tigress who had become a man-eater and terrorized their villages for months, killing their children, their parents, their cousins. Teaching her cub to become a killer. Colin began methodically to carry out the same procedure, talking to Joe as he worked. ‘Always a good idea to do this when a man-eater’s involved,’ he commented. ‘Physical flaws can often explain why the creature’s taken to the unnatural habit of preying on men. I note that this one has been blinded in the left eye but I understand that is a recent wound and not the reason behind her change in diet.’

Three paws were removed then, detaching the fourth, he held it up to the gaze of the audience. ‘And here you have it. Porcupine quills. Must have come off worst in a fight with a porcupine.’ He counted. ‘Eight, nine, ten quills have penetrated the paw to quite a depth. In fact some have worked their way in, hit the shin bone and done a U turn. Must have been painful and incapacitating. I think this tells us why she took to catching slower, feebler prey. All claws in all four paws in place and I would judge that she wasn’t all that old. More than ten, less than thirteen years perhaps? Weight? A good size for a tigress. . I’d say 350 pounds or thereabouts. And the pelt. . Fine coat rather ruined by two bullet holes. Looks as though Edgar got her in the side before you finished her off, Joe. Look, old man, would you mind very much if I offered this to the headman of the local village?’

‘I think that would be very fitting,’ said Joe and the pelt was carried off with whoops of triumph.

They made their way back to Hector’s tent. All signs of the autopsy had been cleared away, the body covered in a white sheet, and Hector was sitting quietly on watch. He listened with raised eyebrows to Joe’s account and then said simply, ‘Well, your experts have given their forensic opinions and evidence, Joe. We can go no further. Nothing more we can do here. Does anyone have plans for the body? There’s no way we can get it back to the palace before dark today and you know they cremate their dead within twenty-four hours.’

‘It’s all right, Hector,’ said Colin. ‘Ajit’s dealing with that. A pandit has been summoned and the cremation ceremony will be carried out by the villagers at first light. We’ll take his ashes back to Ranipur to be scattered in the river.’

He approached the body and looked sadly down at the torn features. ‘Poor, poor little scrap,’ he murmured. ‘And when someone dies, aren’t there always things you regret? Things you didn’t say. . things you did say. .’

There was something underlying Colin’s sadness that invited Joe to ask, ‘Something you said, Colin?’

He seemed relieved to be prompted to say, ‘Yes, you all heard me. Ticked him off in front of everyone. Last thing I ever said to him. Told him not to fool about with his whistle.’

‘Sounded entirely reasonable to me,’ said Joe. ‘The lad was a bit overexcited. . could have caused havoc. But was there something behind the warning?’

‘Yes, there was. He’d been larking about in the night. Surprised you didn’t hear anything, Joe?’

‘I did hear. . things,’ said Joe. ‘Go on.’

‘Well, I’d taken the precaution of leaving a night watch on duty. Oh, they didn’t enter the camp — their brief was to discreetly patrol the perimeter. So I was surprised when one of the chaps woke me up at three in the morning. He said there was a problem in front of the tents. Couldn’t work out what it was but a large patch of something white, shining in the moonlight, had caught his attention. He thought I ought to investigate. We went along and found that the ground between Claude’s tent and the one opposite — Captain Mercer’s, I think — an area of four by four yards — had been strewn with flour.’

‘Flour?’ The doctor was astonished, Joe less so.

‘Did you alert anyone?’ he asked.

‘Yes, we did. Got poor old Claude out of bed. Couldn’t understand what was going on but when he twigged, he was prepared to put the blame on Bahadur for a particularly pointless practical joke.’

‘What steps did you take?’

‘Sent for a broom and brushed it away as best we could and then, egged on by Claude, we did something I’ll always regret. Turned into schoolboys ourselves. Must have been the full moon, the spirit of camaraderie. . I don’t know what. It was Claude’s suggestion. He was spitting angry and determined to teach the boy a lesson but all the same I should have put the lid on it.’

‘Colin, what did you do?’

Colin swallowed, his head drooped and he said softly, ‘Claude took the flour we’d swept up and spread it in front of Bahadur’s tent. Then we faked up a trail of enormous tiger paw prints marching straight up to the door — the old pebble in hanky trick.’ He looked at Joe, stricken, tears in his eyes. ‘It wouldn’t have fooled him for half a minute! He’d been out in the jungle with me many times and I’d taught him all I know about tracking — even the tricks! He would have recognized it as such in no time at all and, I would have thought, erupted with laughter. That would have been normal. He liked a joke.’

Joe’s mind was absorbing these details, unpleasant with hindsight, and linking them with facts he remembered himself from the night before. ‘Colin, was anyone else aware of what you and Claude had done? What Bahadur had done?’

‘Hard to say because I was rushing about liaising with the lead mahout by then and not really thinking about practical jokes. The lad got up late and by the time he came to breakfast I think everyone must have seen it. Assumed it was one of his own pranks, I suppose, rolled their eyes and passed on — I’m describing the actual reaction of — Madeleine, I think it was. . yes. . Madeleine. She laughed and said, oh, something like: “I see the man-eater dropped in for a midnight feast.” Surprised to hear the detective hadn’t noticed though?’

‘I was more wakeful at the other end of the night,’ said Joe. ‘And I too made a late appearance. He’d had time to get rid of it by then.’ He was reconstructing Bahadur’s puzzling remark. Something about springing a trap set by Bahadur the great hunter, he remembered.

‘You shouldn’t put on a hair shirt for all this, Colin,’ he said. ‘Not your fault. But it is someone’s fault. Someone who very nearly got away with murder and who, if it hadn’t been for Hector’s thoroughness, undoubtedly would have done. Because you were fooled, Colin, Edgar was fooled and I was fooled.’

‘Fooled you may claim to have been, Joe,’ said Hector, ‘but it’s going to be up to you to make some sense of all this. I must say I can’t make head or tail of it. All I know is that the third heir is dead in our care and there’ll be hell to pay when we get back!’