The head constable took the lambardar aside and the two spoke to each other for some time. The lambardar came back and addressed the villagers saying: ‘The Sentry Sahib wants to know if anyone here has seen or heard anything about Sultana budmash or any of his gang.’

Several villagers came out with news. He was known to have gone away to Pakistan along with his gang. They were all Muslims, and Muslims of their village had been evacuated.

‘Was it before or after the murder of the Lala that he left?’ inquired the head constable, coming up beside the lambardar.

‘After,’ they answered in a chorus. There was a long pause. The villagers looked at each other somewhat puzzled. Was it them? Before they could ask the policemen any questions, the head constable was speaking again.

‘Did any of you see or talk to a young Mussulman babu called Mohammed Iqbal who was a member of the Muslim League?’

The lambardar was taken aback. He did not know Iqbal was a Muslim. He vaguely recalled Meet Singh and Imam Baksh calling him Iqbal Singh. He looked in the crowd for Imam Baksh but could not find him. Several villagers started telling the head constable excitedly of having seen Iqbal go to the fields and loiter about the railway track near the bridge.

‘Did you notice anything suspicious about him?’

‘Suspicious? Well . . . ’

‘Did you notice anything suspicious about the fellow?’

‘Did you?’

No one was sure. One could never be sure about educated people; they were all suspiciously cunning. Surely Meet Singh was the one to answer questions about the babu; some of the babu’s things were still with him in the gurudwara.

Meet Singh was pushed up to the front.

The head constable ignored Meet Singh and again addressed the group that had been answering him. ‘I will speak to the bhai later, he said. ‘Can any one of you say whether this man came to Mano Majra before or after the dacoity?’

This was another shock. What would an urban babu have to do with dacoity or murder? Maybe it was not for money after all! No one was quite sure. Now they were not sure of anything. The head constable dismissed the meeting with: ‘If anyone has any authentic information about the moneylender’s murder or about Sultana or about Mohammed Iqbal, report at the police station at once.’

The crowd broke into small groups, talking and gesticulating animatedly. Meet Singh went up to the head constable who was getting his constables ready to march back.

‘Sentry Sahib, the young man you arrested the other day is not a Mussulman. He is a Sikh—Iqbal Singh.’

The head constable took no notice of him. He was busy writing something on a piece of yellow paper. Meet Singh waited patiently.

‘Sentry Sahib,’ he started again as the other was folding the paper. The head constable did not even look at him. He beckoned one of the constables and handed him the paper saying: