The Turning - Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Khurshed Sooneji looked resigned. He let Rodricks in, raising no objection about the late hour the policeman had chosen to visit him. It was a little past 10 at night. He himself had just returned from the club with. . . Khurshed's voice trailed off. However, it was not with a view to withhold information. It was just that he did not think the Inspector would want to know anything about Porus. The Inspector however, had other ideas.

"If your brother is staying here with you, Mr. Sooneji, I'd like to know a few things from him, also," said Rodricks firmly.

Khurshed went to a closed door and shouted through it. He came back and informed Rodricks that his brother would be out shortly.

"Had you been in touch with Mrs. Sattar after your divorce?" asked Rodricks.

"Not immediately. But after a couple of years, yes, we did come across one another again, sometimes."

"She was a member of the same clubs as you, perhaps?"

"Yes. That is, Sattar was. I mean. . . is. He's a member of quite a few. I hold memberships in about a couple, myself."

"Do you know how relations were, between herself and Mr. Sattar?"

"Good God, Inspector, what do you imagine I am? Some kind of a voyeur?" asked Khurshed, roused to unaccustomed fury.

Rodricks made soothing noises.

Ignoring them, Khurshed went on. "Our conversation, Inspector, was general. I was not in the habit of asking her any questions regarding her. . . second marriage or . . . or Sattar."

"You may not have asked questions, Mr. Sooneji," said Rodricks mildly. "But you knew her for so long. And so well. Perhaps you realized whether she was happy or not, in her new marriage?"
Khurshed's spurt of anger evaporated. "I don't think she was too happy," he answered shortly, adding fairly, "But I'm not sure if Sattar had anything to do with that."

"You think it was something she herself was responsible for?" Rodricks asked, trying to lead up to the delicate subject of her conversion.

"She herself was responsible for everything."

They turned at the sound of this new voice. Porus Sooneji stood leaning against the bedroom door, staring at Rodricks intensely. He was in his pajamas, with a shirt flung over his Sudreh.
He came forward slowly. Khurshed introduced him, once more resigning himself. He made no effort to check his brother's eloquence. After all, what did it matter, now? Nothing mattered, Khurshed told himself wearily. Ever since her murder had been discovered by the Press, Dina's life was being commented upon and judged daily in the newspapers with all the exaggeration journalists felt they could get away with.

Murder did not allow for discretion or decorum.

With an effort, Khurshed tried to concentrate on what Porus was saying.

Porus was well into his stride, now that he had an uncensorious audience. He vomitted out the grievances that had been gnawing at him for years. . . Khurshed wouldn't listen to a word against Dina. Aftab himself had too many grievances to ventilate, to listen patiently to anybody else's. But this Inspector chappie would listen! That's what he had come for, after all. To dig up the dirt about Dina!

"She ruined my brother's life, Inspector! She made a mockery of her own religion! Converted merely so she could marry that bastard. And then, when that went bust, ran crying to my brother again. To get him in her clutches again. A thoroughly selfish woman, Inspector. And a hypocrite of the first order. Always pretending to be holier-than-thou! Trying to make a show of being generous and doing things for the sake of other people, all the while scheming for herself!" Viciously, he went on, "!' d never liked her! Told my brother so. But he was besotted! Never saw her for what she really was!"

Rodricks listened to this illuminating diatribe, deeply interested. He felt he was hearing a side of Dina Sattar which had not so far been revealed by anyone. And his instinct told him that there was more truth in this rather unbalanced fellow's version of the murdered woman's character than he would be given credit for. Dina Sattar selfish and hypocritical. . . yes, she probably was that!

"What made you believe that Dina was trying to get your brother in 'her clutches', as you put it, again?" Rodricks asked Porus.

Porus' reply now was not quite so forthcoming. He said vaguely, "Our sister Meher had warned me over the telephone. So I came down."

"Came down?"

"My brother lives in Hong Kong, Inspector," supplied Khurshed.

"You came down from Hong Kong merely because your sister told you that your brother had been seeing his ex-wife again?" Rodricks asked Porus.

"Of course!" It seemed quite natural to Porus. "I had no other reason to come down at this time!"
"When did you actually come down, Mr. Sooneji?"

"The same day that I went to Dina's place and found Khurshed there. I landed in the morning." He turned round in surprise as Khurshed coughed. A patently artificial cough.

"What day was that, sir?" asked Rodricks casually.

"The day. . . the day. . ." Porus looked uncertainly from Rodricks to Khurshed, and back again. "Damn you," he suddenly burst out angrily. "Are you trying to trap me or something?"

"No, Mr. Sooneji. I am merely eliciting information. What day was that, please?"

It was again Khurshed who answered, his voice sounding tired. "It was the 27th of June, Inspector. The day Dina died."

"Thank you." Rodricks turned to Porus again. "Did you go to your brother's house first, straight from the airport?"

"No," Porus sounded a trifle sulky now. He glanced sideways at Khurshed. "I first went to Meher's place."

"No doubt to hear all about what I had been doing, from her." Khurshed cut in sarcastically.

Porus shrugged, suddenly peevish. "Do you want to ask me anything else, Inspector?" he asked irritably. "I'm feeling rather sleepy."

Rodricks had no further questions to ask of him, and did not detain him. On the contrary, he had been wondering how to get rid of Porus, noW that he had got whatever he wanted from him. He wanted to question Khurshed further. Alone.

After Porus had disappeared, Khurshed asked Rodricks if he'd like some tea or coffee. Rodricks declined.

"Not while you're on duty, I suppose," smiled Khurshed, just a tinge of satire in his voice.

"Mr. Sooneji, I just have a few more questions to ask you. When you met Mrs. Sattar on the day of her death, did you notice anything strange in her behaviour?"

"Strange. . . in what way?"

"Physically. Did she appear to be hung over? Was she feeling dizzy? Was her speech slurred?"
Khurshed frowned. "Frankly, Inspector, I was with her for a very, very short while, before we were interrupted by my brother, as you seem to be aware. And most of the time, I'm afraid I did not pay much attention to Dina. I was rather preoccupied, myself."

"What were you preoccupied about, Mr. Sooneji?"

Khurshed cursed himself. One had to be careful what one said to these blokes. This fellow was damn sharp! He gave Rodricks a frank look. "Can you be discreet, Inspector?"

"We try to be," assured Rodricks.

Khurshed shrugged. "God alone knows, everything's been tomtommed in the papers enough! To answer your question. About my preoccupation. Well, I'd had a call from my cousin, who's a priest, a couple of days before I met Dina . . . last. He was all het up."

"What about?" prompted Rodricks, as Khurshed appeared to be in danger of lapsing into a long silence.

"About the fact that Dina seemed to be visiting the Fire Temple." He looked up. "My cousin is a priest, Inspector. Rabidly orthodox. He did not feel it right that Dina should visit the Fire Temple any longer, after she had converted to Islam. For whatever reason."

"Did you agree with him, Mr. Sooneji?" asked Rodricks curiously.

Khurshed seemed to examine the floor."

"I'm afraid I did, Inspector," he said in a low voice.

So that was that, mused Rodricks. Dina Sattar seemed to have forfeited the good opinion of those who had loved her once. Casually he asked Khurshed, "While you were with Mrs. Sattar at her residence, were you in the drawing room throughout?"

"Of course," replied Khurshed coldly. "where else do you imagine I'd be?"

"It's not for me to imagine things, Mr. Sooneji," Rodricks replied genially. "I'm merely trying to ascertain facts. And your brother?"

"My brother was at Dina's for no more than fifteen minutes, if that long. And he too was in the drawing room, all the while." He gave a bitter smile. "None of us ever entered Dina's bedroom, if that's what you are getting at, Inspector!"

Rodricks noted the irony in Khurshed's tone. He rose. "Now, if you'll just give me the name and address of this cousin of yours, Mr. Sooneji, I'll not trouble you any further."

Khurshed looked up, frowning. "Do you really need to question him? He could have had nothing to do with all this."

"Maybe, maybe not," said Rodricks. "We'll see if we need to question him. But I need the name and address, just in case."


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