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We followed Ben to the Midnight Palace, searching for a secret place where we could listen to what he had to say. That day none of us feared that behind the strange accident and the uncertain words uttered by the scorched lips of our headmaster there might be any threat greater than that of separation and the emptiness towards which the blank pages of our future seemed to be leading us. We had yet to learn that the Devil created youth so that we could make our mistakes, and that God established maturity and old age so that we could pay for them …
I also remember that as we listened to Ben’s report of his conversation with Thomas Carter, each one of us, without exception, knew he was keeping something from us, something the wounded headmaster had confided in him. And I remember the worried expression on the faces of my friends, mirrored on my own, as we realised that, for the first time in all those years, our friend Ben had chosen to keep us in the dark.
A few minutes later he asked to speak privately with Sheere, and I thought that my best friend had just delivered the final blow to the doomed Chowbar Society. But future events would prove that, once again, I had misjudged Ben and the loyalty which our club inspired in his soul.
At the time, however, watching my friend’s face as he spoke to Sheere, I realised that the wheel of fortune had begun to turn backwards. Our opponent in the game was prepared to bet high and we didn’t have the knowledge, or experience, to match him.
IN THE HAZY LIGHT OF THAT HUMID SCORCHING DAY the reliefs and gargoyles on the facade of the Chowbar Society’s
secret hideout resembled wax figures melting into the walls. The sun lay hidden behind a dense bank of clouds and a suffocating mist rose from the Hooghly River, sweeping through the streets of the Black Town like the fumes from a poisoned marsh.
Ben and Sheere were talking behind two fallen roof beams in the central hall of the old mansion, while the others waited about a dozen metres away, glancing occasionally at the pair with suspicion.
‘I don’t know whether I’ve done the right thing, hiding this from my friends,’ Ben confessed to Sheere. ‘I know they’ll be upset, and it goes against the oaths of the Chowbar Society, but if there’s even the remotest possibility that there’s a murderer out there who wants to kill me, I have no intention of getting them mixed up in it. I don’t really want to involve you either, Sheere. I can’t imagine how your grandmother could be connected to all this, and until I discover what that connection is, it’s best to keep this secret to ourselves.’
Sheere nodded. It upset her to think that somehow the secret she shared with Ben would come between him and his friends, but she was also aware that things might turn out to be more serious than they imagined, and she was savouring the closeness to Ben this special link gave her.
‘I need to tell you something too, Ben,’ Sheere began. ‘This morning, when I came to say goodbye to you, I didn’t think it was important. But now things have changed. Last night, when we were returning to the house where we’ve been staying, my grandmother made me swear I would never speak to you again. She said I must forget you and that if I tried to get close to you it might end in tragedy.’
Ben sighed at the speed with which the torrent of threats against him was multiplying. Everyone, except himself, appeared to know some terrible secret that turned him into a target, the bearer of misfortune.
‘What reason did she give for saying something like that?’ asked Ben. ‘She’d never seen me before last night and I don’t think my behaviour could justify anything like that.’
‘I’m sure it has nothing to do with your behaviour,’ Sheere said. ‘She was scared. There was no anger in her words, only fear.’
‘Well, we’re going to have to find something else besides fear if we want to understand what’s going on,’ replied Ben. ‘We’ll go and see her straight away.’
He walked over to where the other members of the Chowbar Society were waiting. He could tell from their faces that they’d been discussing the matter and had come to a decision. Ben guessed who would be the spokesperson for the inevitable complaint. They all looked at Ian, who rolled his eyes and sighed.
‘Ian has something to tell you,’ Isobel stated. ‘But we all feel the same way.’
Ben faced his friends and smiled.
‘I’m listening.’
‘Well,’ Ian began. ‘The essence of what we’re trying to say—’
‘Don’t beat about the bush, Ian,’ Seth interrupted.
Ian whisked round, with all the restrained fury his placid nature allowed.
‘The term “spokesperson” means one person does the speaking, the others just shut up.’
Nobody else dared to make any more objections to his speech and Ian returned to his task.
‘As I was saying: basically, we think there’s something that doesn’t add up. You said Mr Carter told you he was attacked by some criminal who is stalking the orphanage. A criminal nobody has seen and whose motives, from what you’ve said, we can’t understand. We also don’t understand why Mr Carter asked to speak to you specifically or why you’ve been talking to Bankim and haven’t told us what it was about. You must have your reasons for keeping this secret and sharing it only with Sheere, or at least you think you do. But, to be honest, if you value our society and its aims, you should trust us and not hide anything from us.’
Ben considered Ian’s words as the rest of his friends nodded in agreement.
‘If I’ve kept anything from you it’s because I think that otherwise I might be putting your lives in danger,’ Ben explained.
‘The founding principle of this society is to help one another no matter what, not just to listen to funny stories and disappear the moment things go wrong,’ Seth protested angrily.
‘This is a society, not some girlie orchestra,’ added Siraj.
Isobel slapped the back of his head.
‘Be quiet!’ she snapped.
