Carlos Zafon - The Midnight Palace

‘I can do that,’ offered Seth. ‘There must be newspaper cuttings from the time in the library of the Indian Museum. And books, probably.’

‘Seth is right,’ said Siraj. ‘The fire at Jheeter’s Gate caused a great scandal in its day, and a lot of people still remember it. There must be records on the subject. Goodness knows where, but they must exist.’

‘Then we’ll have to search for them,’ Isobel said. ‘They could be a good starting point.’

‘I’ll help Seth,’ said Michael.

Isobel nodded vigorously. ‘We must find out everything we can about this man, his life, and also the amazing house which is supposed to be somewhere near here. Tracing it might lead us to the murderer.’

‘We’ll look for the house,’ suggested Siraj, pointing at himself and Roshan.

‘If it exists, we’ll find it,’ Roshan added.

‘Fine, but don’t go inside,’ warned Isobel.

‘We didn’t intend to,’ Roshan reassured her.

‘What about me? What am I supposed to do?’ asked Ian. He couldn’t think of a task that would suit his particular skills as easily.

‘You stay here with Ben and Sheere,’ said Isobel. ‘For all we know, Ben might start getting crazy ideas into his head before we even realise it. Stay by his side and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. It’s not a good idea for him to be seen out on the streets with Sheere.’

Ian agreed, aware that his was the most difficult task of the whole lot.

‘We’ll meet in the Midnight Palace before it turns dark,’ Isobel concluded. ‘Any questions?’

The friends looked at one another and quickly shook their heads.

‘Good, let’s get going.’

Seth, Michael, Roshan and Siraj set off at once to carry out their respective tasks. Isobel stayed behind with Ian, quietly watching them leave through the heat haze rising from the scorched dusty streets.

‘What are you planning to do, Isobel?’ asked Ian.

Isobel turned to him and smiled mysteriously.

‘I have a hunch,’ she said.

‘I trust your hunches as much as I trust earthquakes,’ Ian replied. ‘What are you plotting?’

‘You mustn’t worry, Ian.’

‘When you say that, I worry even more.’

‘I might not get to the Palace by this evening,’ said Isobel. ‘If I haven’t appeared, do what you have to do. You always know what has to be done, Ian.’

He sighed. He was worried. He hated all this mystery and the strange glint he noticed in his friend’s eyes.

‘Look at me, Isobel,’ he ordered. She obeyed. ‘Whatever your plan is, forget it.’

‘I know how to take care of myself, Ian,’ she said with a smile.

Ian, however, could not return the smile.

‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,’ he begged. Isobel laughed.

‘I’ll do one thing you would never dare to do,’ she whispered.

Ian stared at her, mystified. Then, her eyes still shining enigmatically, she moved closer to him and brushed his lips gently with a kiss.

‘Take care, Ian,’ she said softly. ‘And don’t go dreaming …’

That was the first time Isobel had kissed him, and as he watched her disappear through the wilderness of the courtyard, Ian couldn’t help feeling a sudden and inexplicable fear that it might also be the last.

Almost an hour later Ben and Sheere emerged, their faces inscrutable but strangely calm. Sheere walked over to Aryami, who had spent all the time alone on the veranda, away from the discussions of Ian and his friends, and sat down next to her. Ben made straight for Ian.

‘Where is everybody?’ he asked.

‘We thought it would be useful to investigate this individual Jawahal,’ Ian replied.

‘So you’ve been left to babysit?’ Ben’s forced humour didn’t fool either of them.

‘Something like that. Are you all right?’ Ian motioned towards Sheere.

His friend nodded.

‘Confused, I suppose,’ Ben said at last. ‘I hate surprises.’

‘Isobel says it’s not a good idea for you two to go out and about together, and I think she’s right.’

‘Isobel is always right, except when she argues with me,’ replied Ben. ‘But I don’t think this is a safe place for us either. Even if it’s been shut up for over fifteen years, it’s still the family home. And St Patrick’s isn’t any safer, that’s fairly obvious.’

‘I think the best thing would be to go to the Palace and wait for the others there,’ said Ian.

‘Is that Isobel’s plan?’ Ben smiled.

‘Guess.’

‘Where has she gone?’

‘She wouldn’t tell me.’

‘One of her hunches?’ asked Ben, alarmed.

Ian nodded.

‘God help us.’ Ben sighed and patted his friend’s back. ‘I’m going to talk to the ladies.’

Ian turned to look at Sheere and Aryami Bose. The old lady seemed to be having a heated discussion with her granddaughter. Ben and Ian exchanged glances.

‘I suspect the grandmother is sticking to her plan of leaving for Bombay tomorrow,’ said Ben.

‘Will you go with them?’

‘I don’t intend to leave this city – ever. Even less so now.’

The two friends observed the development of the argument between grandmother and granddaughter for a few more minutes, then Ben whispered, ‘Wait for me here,’ and headed over towards them.

Aryami Bose went back into the house, leaving Ben and Sheere alone by the entrance. Sheere’s face was flushed with anger and Ben gave her a few moments until she was ready to speak. When she did, her voice shook with fury and her hands were clenched in a rigid knot.

‘She says we’re leaving tomorrow and she doesn’t want to discuss the matter any further,’ she explained. ‘She also says you should come with us, but she can’t make you.’

‘I suppose she thinks it’s for the best.’

‘That’s not what you think, is it?’

‘I’d be lying if I said I did,’ Ben admitted.

‘I’ve spent my whole life running from town to town, taking trains, ships, carts … I’ve never had my own home, my own friends or a place I could think of as mine,’ said Sheere. ‘I’m tired, Ben. I can’t keep hiding from somebody I don’t even know.’

Ben and Sheere looked at one another. After a while she spoke again.

‘She’s an old woman, Ben. She’s frightened because her life is coming to an end and she knows she won’t be able to protect us much longer. Her heart is in the right place, but running away again just isn’t an option. What use would it be to take that train to Bombay tomorrow? To get off at some random station and change our names? To beg for a roof in any old village, knowing that the following day we might have to move again?’

‘Have you said this to Aryami?’ asked Ben.

‘She won’t listen. But this time I refuse to run away. This is my home, this is my father’s city and this is where I plan to stay. And if that man comes for me I’ll stand up to him. If he wants to kill me, let him try. But if I’m to go on living, I’m not prepared to do so like some fugitive who has to give thanks every day simply for being alive. Will you help me, Ben?’

‘Of course,’ he replied.

Sheere hugged him and dried her tears with the tip of her shawl.

‘Do you know, Ben,’ she said, ‘last night, with your friends in that old house, your Midnight Palace, while I was telling you my story I kept thinking that I’d never had the opportunity to be a child. I grew up surrounded by old people, by fear and lies. The only company I had was beggars and people I met on our travels. I remember I used to invent imaginary friends and spend hours talking to them in station waiting rooms or on the long journeys we made in covered carts. Adults would look at me and smile. To them a little girl who spoke to herself seemed adorable. But it isn’t adorable, Ben. It’s not adorable to be alone, as a child or as an adult. For years I’ve wondered what other children were like, whether they had the same nightmares I had, whether they felt as miserable as I did. Whoever said that childhood is the happiest time of your life is a liar, or a fool.’