A month into the search for Anjuli yielded nothing but dead ends and empty leads. Collective memories could only be loosened with false promises and a twenty-pound note. Eventually, Michael called off the search, telling Joseph his wife was dead. His brother had other ideas.
None of them were pleasant.
“Give up?” Joseph shouted during a dinner party in which Michael paraded his new paramour and Anjuli’s replacement. “We’ve barely scratched the surface!”
Michael yanked him into the study and offered a brandy. “You heard what the police said. The coach doesn’t exist. And the watchman on duty that night doesn’t remember much about the markings.”
“That’s because he was so full of rum, he couldn’t tell the difference between the broadside of a mule and a horse’s ass.”
“Must you be so—”
“Might I remind you of your promise?” Joseph cracked the door open, then shut it again. “Shall I inform your… future father-in-law your wife still lives?”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Try me.”
“Lord,” Michael muttered in disgust. He downed both glasses of brandy, pleading with his brother to keep his mouth shut. “I’ll hire more men,” he promised, thinking that would sway him. “And I’ll cover all expenses.”
“That’s awfully generous of you, dear brother,” Joseph drawled. “But I have something else in mind.”
“What?” Michael said warily. “It’s been a month, Joseph! There’s no trace of her!”
“There has to be something!” Joseph hissed, helping himself to the brandy snifter. He poured a fresh glass for his brother and kept the snifter. “The night watchman said the coach was unusual. Let us go with that.”
“Coaches are all the same,” Michael grumbled. “How is this one any different?”
“I think we need to speak to the good watchman again. Perhaps pry his memory.”
“With your methods?” Michael scoffed, impatient to return to his dinner party. “You’re liable to break his neck.”
“Not if you’re there to stop me.”
“I don’t like this, Joseph. Why don’t we hire a runner?”
“What for?”
“Because their methods may prove fruitful. The police have no idea what they’re doing.”
“Now you tell me.”
Joseph eyed the mantel clock thoughtfully. “A hired coach at that time of night? Only someone with a lot of money could have arranged it.”
“Not really.” Michael shrugged, loosening his cravat. “It all depends on the type of horses used.”
“Yes. And the watchman did say the horses were unusually large.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “So, all we must do is find a livery stable for exceptionally large steeds. Do you know how many there are in London?”
“Well,” Joseph said, knocking back the remaining brandy. “There’s only one thing to do.”
“And what’s that?”
“You start on the south end, and I’ll drag the north. We’re bound to come up with something.”
“Do you know how long that will take?” Michael groaned. “Lord, why couldn’t she have taken a coal cart?”
“You’re not helping.”
“I don’t want to help at all.”
“I can tell.”
Michael marched across the room and yanked the door open. “This is on your head, not mine!” he swore. “If you hadn’t decided to use her as a punching bag, none of this would be happening!”
Joseph did not take kindly to his brother’s accusation and threatened to reveal Anjuli’s identity to all those present. “Meet me in the coffeeshop by the university tomorrow afternoon. And bring father’s money.”
Michael looked ill. “Whatever it is you’re planning, I want no part of it.”
Eyes widening innocently, Joseph pointed at himself. “Would I do anything to sully your good name?”
“Um… yes. I think you would.”
“Oh, ye of little faith.”
“How many people are you willing to bribe just so you can sleep at night?”
“As many as it takes.” Joseph slipped out through a back entrance and returned to his lonely flat, while his brother lamented the day he spied a pretty Indian girl under a Gulmohar tree.
* * *
Though Joshua and I were resigned to stand back and watch as the brothers raced all over London trying to find Anjuli, we could not help but feel their frustration after each lead ended in disappointment. Michael had hired a runner, but the man turned up nothing but a forwarding address to an abandoned property outside Essex.
Michael hurled the scrap of paper on a table as Joseph prepared to make a night of it with the brandy snifter. He wasn’t happy with his brother shacking up with him and wanted him to pay his fair share.
Starting with the food.
“Are you going to pay me for that steak or what?” Michael called over, disgruntled over the fact his brother had used squatter’s rights to claim the guestroom. “You also owe me for the brandy, too.”
“Is that what concerns you?” Joseph answered with his usual effrontery. “Anjuli could be dead, and you’re worried about grocery lists?”
“I am being practical,” Michael sighed. “You know Father and his impeccable bookkeeping. He makes me pay for the coal.”
“Pity.”
“I mean it, Joseph. He’ll want to know why I’m going through so much food, not to mention the liquor cabinet. That’s expensive stuff you’re carelessly swilling around in that gob of yours.”
Joseph swallowed with a wince. “Brandy? Your wife is missing, and you’re worried about brandy?” He slammed the snifter back down on its glass serving tray. “Will you want an accounting of her fillings as well?”
“Bloody hell! You know as well as I how Father is. It should come as no surprise to you how parsimonious he can be.”
“I’m beginning to.”
“Look, I say we check out the property and cut our losses. We cannot go on this way. Not with Father breathing down our necks.” Michael lit a cheroot and drew deeply. “No one has seen these horses, Joseph. Either they exist or we’re chasing ghosts.”
“The coach has to belong to somebody!” Joseph insisted. “She didn’t vanish into thin air!”
“And what makes you so certain?” Michael countered, eyeing his brother quizzically. “You weren’t exactly Sir Galahad, you know.”
“Don’t remind me!”
“I am only stating a fact. Think Anjuli was going to stay around forever and play housewife while you used London as your personal nunnery? She had more pride than that.”
“As if you were any better,” Joseph snorted. “I can name ten witnesses who will attest to your running account at Madame Jabot’s.”
Michael choked on a plume of smoke and quickly doused his cheroot. “Where did you hear that?” he demanded hoarsely.
“I have my sources. Like so many of the downtrodden and easily discarded, people will tell you anything for a… price.”
“And you believed them?”
Joseph’s lips curled in a defiant sneer. “You and I are both cut from the same cloth. No sense in denying our shared predilection for the… softer things in life.”
“Are you implying our father is unfaithful to our mother?”
“I’m not implying anything. It’s a well-known fact. You, of all people, should know he’s got a veritable harem stashed all over Europe.”
“I know no such thing.”
“Well,” Joseph sniffed, setting his glass down. “I know what I’ve seen and what I’ve heard. Just because he’s our father doesn’t mean he’s a saint. Even our mother knows this. I daresay she puts up with it because she’s afraid to live like the peasants.”
Michael scowled, not wishing to speak of their father’s infidelity. “When do you want to leave for Essex? I assume that’s where you want to go next.”
“How soon can you pack?”
Rubbing his eyes, Michael said Friday was as good a day as any. “I have to be back at work on Monday.”
“Work?”
“Yes, work! Think Father allows me to live here rent-free?”
Nodding, Joseph agreed. “Friday suits me as well. But what if we find something? How do we—”
“We inform the authorities,” Michael said, reaching for another cheroot. “We’re not runners or policemen. Let them handle it.”
Frowning at his brother’s lack of concern for his wife, Joseph spent a restless night in bed and was up before the cock crowed twice.
