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‘I’m an expert locksmith,’ said Roshan.

‘I can find maps in the Town Hall dating right back to the establishment of the government in 1859,’ said Seth.

‘I can find out if there’s any mystery surrounding the house,’ said Siraj. ‘It might be haunted.’

‘I can draw it exactly as it is,’ said Michael. ‘I can make plans. From the book, I mean.’

Sheere laughed and looked at Ben and Ian.

‘Fine,’ said Ben. ‘Someone will have to be the director of operations: I accept the job. Ian can put antiseptic on anyone who gets a splinter.’

‘I suppose you’re not going to accept a no,’ said Sheere.

‘We deleted the word “no” from the dictionary in the orphanage library six months ago,’ Ben declared. ‘Now you’re a member of the Chowbar Society, your problems are our problems. Company orders.’

‘I thought we were disbanding the society,’ Siraj reminded them.

‘I decree an extension due to grievous circumstances that cannot be ignored,’ said Ben, throwing his friend a withering look.

Siraj melted into the shadows.

‘All right,’ Sheere conceded, ‘but we have to go back now.’

THE LOOK WITH WHICH Aryami greeted Sheere and the other members of the Chowbar Society could have frozen the surface of the Hooghly River. The elderly woman was waiting by the front of the building with Bankim, whose expression was so serious Ben immediately started dreaming up some improbable excuse to get his new friend out of the scolding that was clearly coming her way. He went ahead of the others and put on his best smile.

‘It was my fault. We just wanted to show your granddaughter the courtyard behind the building,’ he said.

Not even deigning to look at him, Aryami went straight over to Sheere.

‘I told you to wait here and not move,’ she said, her face flushed with anger.

‘We’ve only been a few metres away,’ said Ian.

Aryami looked daggers at him.

‘I didn’t ask you, young man,’ she retorted, not bothering to be polite.

‘We’re sorry to have worried you, we didn’t mean to—’ Ben insisted.

‘Leave it, Ben,’ Sheere interrupted. ‘I can speak for myself.’

The woman’s hostile expression softened for a moment. This didn’t go unnoticed by any of the young people. Aryami pointed at Ben and her face grew pale in the faint light of the lanterns dotted around the garden.

‘Are you Ben?’ she asked, lowering her voice.

The boy nodded, concealing his surprise as he met the old woman’s inscrutable gaze. There was no anger in her eyes, only sadness and anxiety. Aryami took her granddaughter by the arm.

‘We must go,’ she said. ‘Say goodbye to your friends.’

The members of the Chowbar Society nodded farewell and Sheere gave a shy smile as she walked away, her arm still held tightly by Aryami Bose. They disappeared into the dark streets of Calcutta. Ian went over to Ben, who seemed lost in thought, his eyes fixed on the retreating figures of Sheere and Aryami as they ventured into the night.

‘For a moment I thought that woman was frightened,’ said Ian.

Ben nodded, still staring.

‘Who isn’t frightened on a night like this?’

‘I think you’d all better go to bed,’ said Bankim from the doorway.


Tags: Carlos Ruiz Zafón Niebla Fantasy