Imray Came Back. Part 2

Suddenly he stopped talking, his eyes on one corner of the ceiling, above my chair.

‘Well, look at that!’ he said quietly.

I turned and looked up. There was the head of a very dangerous brown snake, called a ‘karait’ in India. It was looking at us with its cold little eyes from a small door in that corner of the ceiling. I stood up quickly and moved away from that corner of the room – I do not like any snakes, I am afraid of them, and the ‘karait’ is one of the most dangerous and frightening snakes. It kills so easily and so quickly.

‘Let’s get it down and break its back,’ I said.

‘It’s very hard to catch those brown snakes, you know,’ Strickland answered. ‘They move so fast. But let’s try. Bring that light over.’

I carried the light across to the corner of the room where the snake was, watching it carefully all the time. It did no move. Strickland carried his chair over to the same corner, took one of his guns from a cupboard near the door and climbed up on the chair. But the snake saw him coming. Its head suddenly disappeared and we heard it move away across the ceiling above our heads.

‘Snakes like it up there in the ceiling – it’s nice and warm,’ said Strickland. ‘But I don’t like having them here. I’m going up to catch it.’

He pushed open the small door in the ceiling and put his head and arms through. He had the gun in one hand, ready to hit the snake with it and break its back. I watched from below.

I heard Strickland say: ‘I can’t see that snake, but… Hello! What’s this? There’s something up here…’ and I saw him pushing at something with the gun. ‘I can’t quite get it,’ he said, and then suddenly: ‘It’s coming down! Be careful down there! Stand back!’

I jumped back. Something hit the centre of the ceiling hard from above, broke noisily through it into the room and hit the dinner table. It broke some glasses and plates on the table. There was water all over the floor. I went over with the light and looked down at the thing on the table. Strickland climbed quickly off the chair and stood next to me. It was a man; a dead man.

‘I think,’ Strickland said slowly, ‘that our friend Imray is back.’

Suddenly something moved out from under one leg of the thing on the table. It was the brown snake, the ‘karait’, trying to get away.

‘So the snake came down with our dead friend, I see,’ Strickland said and he pushed the snake off the table onto the floor, hit it with his gun and broke its back. I looked at the dying snake on the floor and said nothing.

Strickland went over to a cupboard and took out a bottle of whisky and two glasses. He gave me a drink.

‘Is it Imray?’ I asked.

‘Yes. That’s Imray,’ he answered. ‘And somebody killed him.’

Now we knew why there were noise round the house at night, and why Tietjens did not like sleeping inside the house. She knew that Imray was up there, dead. She knew that Imray’s ghost walked through the house at night, trying to find somebody to help him.

A minute later we heard Tietjens outside. She pushed open the door with her noise and came in. she looked at the dead man on the table and sat down on the floor next to Strickland, looking up at him.

‘You knew Imray was up there all the time, over our heads,’ Strickland said to the dog, looking down at her. ‘Somebody killed him and perhaps you know who did it, too. Dead man do not climb up into the ceilings of houses and close the ceiling door behind them. So the question is who put him there and closed the ceiling door? And who killed him? Let’s think about it.’

‘Let’s think about it in the other room,’ I said. ‘Not here.’

‘You’re right,’ said Strickland, with a smile. ‘Let’s go into the living-room.’

We went through to the living-room and sat there, smoking cigarettes and drinking our whisly. Strickland said nothing, but sat quiet and through for a minute or two. His gun was on the floor next to his chair.

‘So Imray is back,’ he said again, slowly. ‘You know, when I took this house, I took Imray’s three servants, too. They stayed here to work for me. Did one of them kill him? I was not quite happy about that when I questioned them at the time Imray disappeared, you know.’

‘Why not call them in, one of a time, and question them again?’ I said. ‘See what they have to say.’

There was a noise at the back door, from the kitchen. It was Bahadur Khan, Strickland’s servant, coming in to take the dinner things away. Strickland called him and the man came into the living-room without any noise. He wore no shoes. Ha was a tall and strong-looking man. He stood quietly near the door and waited.

‘It’s a very warm night, Bahahur Khan. Do you think more rain is coming?’ Strickland began.

‘Yes, sir. I think it is,’ the servant answered.

‘When did you first start to work for me, Bahahur Khan?’

‘When you came to live in this house, sir. You know that. After Mr. Imray suddenly went away to Europe, sir.’

‘He went away to Europe, you say? Why do you say that?’

‘All the servants say he went to Europe, sir.’

‘Do they? That’s very strange, Bahahur Khan. I asked them before, but they didn’t know. You said it to me, Bahahur Khan – but they didn’t know. And Mr. Imray went to Europe, you say, but he never said a word about it to his friends or to his other servants before he went. He told only you, Bahahur Khan. Do you think that is strange?’

‘It is strange, sir,’ the man answered very quietly.

‘And why do you say it? Why do you want us to think Mr. Imray went to Europe?’

The tall man did not answer. He looked very frightened now; his eyes were white in the dark. He moved neared the door, but Strickland went on.

‘But now, suddenly, Mr. Imray is back again, Bahahur Khan! He’s back in this house. Come and see him. He’s waiting for his old servant.’ Strickland took his gun off the floor and stood up quickly. He pushed the gun into Bahahur Khan’s face.

‘Sir!’ The tall Indian moved back, very frightened now, and put up his hands.

‘Go and look at the thing on the table in the next room, Bahahur Khan,’ Strickland said. ‘Go on. Take the light. Go and see Mr. Imray. He’s waiting for you.’

Slowly the man took the light and walked to the door. Strickland was behind him, pushed the gun into his back. The tall Indian stopped near the table and look down at the dead man. His face was yellow with fear.

‘You see?’ asked Strickland coldly. ‘Mr. Imray is back.’

‘I see, sir.’

‘And now I know; you killed him, Bahahur Khan. Why?’

‘I killed him, sir, yes. He was not a good man, sir. He put his hand on my child’s head one day… the next day my child was very ill… and the next day he died. He was my oldest son, sir. Mr. Imray killed my son. He was a bad man. So I killed Mr. Imray in the evening of the same day when he came back from the office. Then I put him up above the ceiling and closed the door.’

Strickland turned to me. ‘You hear that? He killed Mr. Imray,’ he said. Then he went on: ‘You were clever, Bahahur Khan, but Mr. Imray came back. And now I’m taking you to the police station…’

‘But no, sir,’ Bahahur Khan said with a sad smile. ‘We are not going to the police station. Look, sir.’

He moved back from the table and showed us his foot. There was the head of the brown snake, the deadly ‘karait’, with its teeth in his foot.
‘You see, sir, I killed Mr. Imray but I do not want to die at the hands of the police. So I am dying now, here. This snake is killing me.’

An hour later Bahahur Khan was dead. Strickland called some of his policemen to take the two dead men. Imray and his killer, away to the town. And the ghost of Imray did not walk at night in the house again.

That night Tietjens came back inside the house and slept happily in her room.