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eyes met for a moment.
    ‘I’m going to like this man,’ thought Joe.
    ‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘We’re looking at five — possibly more — mysterious deaths over a long period. At least, there’s nothing particularly mysterious about the deaths — the only mystery is that they all occurred in the same month of the year. I can’t believe that Mrs Drummond is the only one who’s noticed this. Others must have said the same thing. Now, tell me, Naurung, what is being said?’
    Collecting his thoughts while Joe was speaking, he said slowly, ‘They do not think it is a coincidence.’
    ‘Well, if we dismiss the chance of coincidence, what alternatives have we?’
    ‘What is left is what you would call foul play.’
    ‘So they are saying openly that it was foul play?’
    ‘Sahib, you ask me what people are saying and I tell you what people are saying. But there is a third explanation which many people whisper. I do not want to appear an ignorant black man — “natives are so superstitious” — I think that is sometimes said?’
    ‘Yes, I’ve no doubt that is sometimes said. But remember, I’m an ignorant London policeman — you can say what you want to me.’
    Naurung looked acutely embarrassed and it was some time before he replied, saying finally, ‘Sahib, do you know what I mean by a Churel? No? A Churel is the ghost of a woman who died in childbirth. She haunts rivers and fords. Her feet are turned backwards so that she can lead men to their destruction. I say this but I do not believe it. They are vengeful spirits. People will say that a Churel seeks to be revenged on the mems of the Bengal Greys because of something — perhaps a long time ago — that happened. Because of a grievance she carried to the grave. A grievance that has not yet worked itself out. I tell you this because you ask. Me, I dismiss it as idle gossip. If you listen to all the gossip you will never find your way to anything.’
    ‘Listen,’ said Joe, ‘I’ll tell you straight away — I don’t believe in your Churel.’
    ‘I tell you, sahib, neither do I. But all the same, there is a link to the Churel through water.’
    ‘Water?’
    ‘May I remind you, sahib, that Mrs Somersham died in her bath, Mrs Simms-Warburton was drowned crossing the river and Mrs Forbes fell over a precipice and died on a river bank. It is not much but is there another connection?’
    Joe riffled through the bundle of yellowing papers on the table between them.
    ‘A connection. Yes, Naurung. A connection is what we have to find. If there is a thread, any thread at all connecting these five deaths, then I think we will have an idea of why the memsahibs died. We know how they died — though we are far from knowing how the deaths might have been brought about — but we do not know why. I was taught that if you know “how” and “why” you will soon know “who”.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Naurung, ‘my father also has said that.’
    Joe reflected for a moment and said, ‘We must study the reports and find what these ladies had in common. How closely have you been involved with these cases?’
    ‘With the death last week of Mrs Somersham I was involved. I was here at the station and helped the Police Chief Bulstrode Sahib with the investigation. I was not allowed to witness the scene of the death
    Later
    ’ Naurung hesitated.
    ‘I understand. Go on.’
    Joe read his unspoken thoughts and cut short the explanation which Naurung would have found embarrassing to give. The sight of a naked Englishwoman in a bath full of blood would have been kept from native eyes.
    ‘You’ve seen the photographs? And come to your own conclusion?’ he pursued.
    ‘It was I who had them developed for Mrs Drummond. There is a sergeant in the Signals who can do this. Yes, I saw the photographs, sahib,’ Naurung muttered and looked uneasily away.
    ‘I would have shown them to you anyway,’ said Joe. ‘Here, look again. Tell me what strikes you as odd.’
    Naurung approached the table and glanced diffidently at the black and white photographs.