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‘There must be,’ said Ian. ‘Let’s look for it.’
Ben shook his head.
‘That’s not what’s bothering me,’ he said. ‘Even supposing there is one, I’ve never heard of a generator that starts up by itself. Much less after years of not working.’
‘Perhaps this model works on some other sort of mechanism,’ Sheere suggested, although she didn’t sound convinced.
‘Perhaps there’s someone else in the house,’ replied Ben.
Ian cursed his luck.
‘I knew it,’ he murmured.
‘Wait!’ cried Ben.
Ian looked at his friend: he was pointing at the model. The train was moving again, this time in the opposite direction.
‘It’s going back to the station,’ Sheere observed.
Slowly, Ben drew closer to the model, stopping by the section of railway track along which the train had started to roll.
‘What’s the plan?’ asked Ian.
His friend didn’t reply. Taking great care, Ben stretched out an arm towards the track. The engine was approaching fast, and as it passed in front of him he snatched it, unhooking it from the carriages. Little by little, the rest of the train reduced speed until it came to a halt. Ben held the engine up to the light from the rose window and examined it. Its minute wheels were gradually slowing down.
‘Someone has a strange sense of humour,’ he remarked.
‘Why?’ asked Sheere.
‘There are three lead figures inside the engine, and they look too much like us for it to be a coincidence.’
Sheere moved over to where Ben was standing and took the little engine in her hands. The dancing lines of light cast a rainbow over her face and she gave a resigned smile.
‘He knows we’re here,’ she said. ‘There’s no point in hiding any more.’
‘Who knows?’ asked Ian.
‘Jawahal,’ answered Ben. ‘He’s waiting. But I don’t know what he’s waiting for.’
WHEN THEY REACHED THE bridge that seemed to vanish into the haze over the Hooghly, Siraj and Roshan collapsed against a wall, exhausted after combing the city in search of Isobel. Far ahead the tips of Jheeter’s Gate’s towers peeped over the mist like the crest of a sleeping dragon.
‘It will soon be dawn,’ said Roshan. ‘We should go back. Maybe Isobel has been waiting for us there.’
‘I don’t think so,’ replied Siraj.
Roshan could tell from his friend’s voice that their nocturnal adventure had taken its toll on him, but for the first time in years he hadn’t heard Siraj complain once about his asthma.
‘We’ve looked everywhere,’ Roshan replied. ‘We can’t do any more. Let’s at least go and get help.’
‘There’s one place we haven’t visited …’
Roshan gazed through the mist at the sinister structure of Jheeter’s Gate.
‘Isobel wouldn’t be crazy enough to go in there.’ He sighed. ‘Nor would I.’
‘I’ll go by myself then,’ said Siraj, standing up.
Roshan heard him wheezing. He closed his eyes despondently.
