9 June,1888

Bombay India

9 June, 1888

Hotel Kopara Danta

Edouard,

I hope this reaches you in good health.  My holiday in Bombay is not quite what I expected but the weather is fair and the fare is fine, albeit over-spiced. I am disturbed to note that my contact in the Embassy failed to make our appointment last evening. A fellow Brit came in his stead remarking that Mister Mahajan was “indisposed for an indefinite amount of time” and that I should return to my proprietor in all haste if I knew what was best for me.  He sounded to be a Cambrige man, if that is of any significance to you. You’ll forgive me, of course, but I may have lost my temper with him. He, too, is now indeterminately indisposed.

I paid a call to the Embassy, looking for Mister Mahajan and deduced his address but when I visited his flat, I found it half-burnt and ransacked. I found his sketchbook in ruins, only a few plans were salvaged. The rest, I’m afraid, you shall have to piece together from what little is left. There was also a letter, addressed for your eyes alone but all that was left was the torn envelope and a photograph that I dare not send via post.

I can only assume that the photograph is a depiction of Mister Mahajan’s latest device. Curiously enough, it looks to be a child’s toy. A brilliant and beautiful upright kaleidoscope with a series of switches and dials at the base. To my own eyes and to those of any other, it would appear harmless enough but the singed sketchbook suggests the kaleidoscope to have alternative purposes that are not even remotely child’s play. The Scotsman may be interested to also have a look. The more I deduce, the more I like Mister Mahajan’s design. It is akin to a few of my own dabblings.

I have reason to believe that Mister Mahajan may still be alive but whether he fled or was taken captive I do not know. I have no leads as of yet and I was wondering if our friend may have contacted you. I will await your instruction at the hotel Kopara Danta. Until then I shall conduct inquiries with our mutual contacts here in Bombay in attempts to find the missing tinkerer and his child’s toy. 

I hope you are well. Please give my loving regards to Mother and would you please see if dear Carlotta would be kind enough to see to send my special cloak. I find the nights here in Bombay are dreadfully chilly.

Yours,
Hattie