Im so tired I dont know what to believe. What do you think?
I think Prajapati seemed very sure of himself, considering he seems to have damn all proof to support his opinion.
But what if its true? How do we know it isnt?
We have no reason to suppose it is.
Her lips tightened. You dont have to humour me, Ben. Im not a child. Lets say Amals not going to make it out of this. Or hes dead already, like Prajapati says. What then?
The usual things. Youd bury him, mourn him, and move on. Like everyone does.
I dont mean that. I mean, what then?
Then wed move on to the next phase. The hunt would switch gears and become about finding the people who did it. But its too early to start talking this way.
And if they could be found? Youll take them down?
Ben looked at her and saw the seriousness in her eyes. She wanted them dead, no mistake. He nodded slowly. You said it yourself, Brooke. Whatever it takes to make this right.
Youd do that for me?
And for Amal, Ben said. Hes my friend too.
She reached out and touched his hand where it rested on the wheel. Her fingers lingered for a moment, then she drew her hand quickly away. What about Kabir?
If youre right that the two cases are connected, then it means the same bad guys are behind both crimes. In which case, we get the people who took Amal, were also getting the ones who got Kabir. Two birds with one stone.
And if Im wrong, and the two arent connected at all?
Then all we can do is take it step by step. Its a process of elimination. Forget about Prajapati. Even if he hadnt just taken himself out of the equation, hes of no use to us. Which takes us to the next name on the list, Samarth. At this point, Id like to be introduced.
Why now?
Ben replied, Because hes the only one of the three brothers still available to talk to. Because Im a visitor in his home and its the polite thing to do. And because he might actually know something that could lead us to the next level.
They passed a busy street-side kebab stall and the aromas of chargrilled lamb and chicken with hot chilli peppers and spicy okra wafted through the cars open window. Brooke asked, Not hungry yet?
I want to keep moving.
Same here. She reached for her handbag, took out her purse and riffled around until she found a business card. Black with gold edging and script, expensive and glossy. Here it is. Ray Enterprises, Connaught Place. Thats the main business district, where all the big corporate offices are. She copied the postal code into the on-board sat nav and peered at the screen for directions. You need to get turned around here.
Lets do it. Ben dropped a gear and the Jaguars engine growled happily as he cut across the lanes of chaotic traffic to head back in the opposite direction.
That was when he spotted the car in the rear-view mirror. A dusty white Toyota sedan had peeled suddenly out from the traffic flow and pulled a sharp U-turn in his wake. In any other country Ben had travelled in, it would have been the kind of manoeuvre that elicited a symphony of honking horns from angry motorists. Evidently not in India, where nobody seemed to care much what you did on the road, but it caught Bens eye nonetheless. Not exactly subtle.
Someone was following them.
Chapter 16
Ben kept it to himself, because he didnt want to alarm Brooke. Not until he was sure he was right. Then shed find out soon enough, depending on what happened next.
He took the next right turn, veering sharply into the junction at the last moment. A motor rickshaw driver and a couple of pedestrians had to move fast to get out of his path. Brooke glanced at the sat nav and said, What are you doing? This is the wrong way.
Sorry, my mistake, he replied. In the mirror he saw the white Toyota follow them into the junction. Hanging back, keeping its distance, allowing a few other vehicles to filter in between itself and the Jaguar. It had passed the first test. Or failed it, depending on ones point of view. One more, and Ben would be sure. He said, Let me pull in here and get turned around again.
He clicked on his indicator, steered nearer the kerb and slowed. A battered taxi sedan, two tuk-tuks and a motorcycle buzzed past. The white Toyota didnt. It had slowed too, and hovered at the kerbside forty metres behind the Jaguar as though anticipating their next move. Ben waited for a gap in the traffic, then threw the Jag around with a squeal of tyres and accelerated back towards the junction.
Right on cue, the Toyota U-turned and followed.
Brooke still had no idea what was going on, and Ben had decided to say nothing yet. Connaught Place and the Ray Enterprises HQ were twenty minutes away, which he hoped was enough of a distance to provide him with a chance to lose their tail. He left her alone with her thoughts as he followed the sat nav west across the city, cutting and diving into gaps, braking hard now and then to avoid facilitating the suicide of various scooterists and pedestrians, and all the while watching the white Toyota in his mirror. Hed already memorised its Delhi registration number. The glare of the sunlight made it hard to see through its windscreen, but he thought he could see the shapes of two guys inside.
He wondered who they could be. Goons working for Prajapati? Possible, though unlikely.
A traffic light up ahead was changing from green to amber. Ben saw his chance and put his foot down, and the Jaguar surged through just as the light turned red. Some way behind them, the driver of the Toyota had to make a quick decision. He raced through the red, almost collided with a truck, swerved to avoid a motorbike, and kept on the Jaguars tail. Ben switched lanes a couple of times, took a couple more turns as directed by the sat nav. He was momentarily distracted by a bus that was trying to force its way up the wrong side of him. Then when he looked in the rear-view mirror again, expecting the Toyota still to be there, it was gone. He slowed a little to let traffic stream past and check that the Toyota wasnt just lurking further back. Definitely no longer there.
Maybe hed imagined it, he thought. Then again, he was experienced enough to be pretty damn sure he hadnt. The stunt back there at the traffic lights had probably been the deciding factor, when the Toyotas driver had taken the bait and drawn too much attention to himself. It had been time to bail out.
But just because the Toyota had dropped out of the game didnt mean it was over. Vehicle surveillance, done properly, almost never involved a single tail. The Toyota had most likely passed the baton to another of the surveillance team. The new player could be another car, a van, bike, or even a helicopter if their resources stretched that far. Ben kept glancing around him for a likely suspect, but could see nothing. The view through the Jaguars sunroof showed a clear sky above. If someone was still following them, they were being a damn sight more discreet about it than the Toyota. The question was, who might that someone be, and what was their intention?
Youre awfully pensive, Brooke said.
Focusing on driving. This traffics terrible.
Welcome to Delhi. Better get used to it.
Welcome to Delhi. Better get used to it.
Soon afterwards they reached the headquarters of Ray Enterprises. Connaught Place, and the impressive steel and glass tower itself, were a galaxy away from Prateek Prajapatis seedy neighbourhood. Just a few miles across the city, the slick, contemporary corporate architecture of the business centre rivalled anything London or New York had to offer. This was the world Brooke had married into. Switching off that thought the instant it flashed through his mind, Ben turned down a ramp to the buildings underground car park. Nobody followed them inside. Something to worry about later, Ben decided.
They found a parking space, left the car and walked to a lift. Surveillance cameras watched from every angle. A sign said NO SMOKING WITHIN 15 FEET OF ANYWHERE, which struck Ben as a bit Draconian and tempted him to light another Gauloise just out of defiance. Eight security guys would probably appear and threaten to shoot him if he dared to.
The lift was spacious and modern, and nobody had been keeping chickens in it any time recently. The soft music wafting through its sound system sounded distinctly unIndian to Bens ears. He asked, What floor?
Brooke replied, Top.
Silly question. He pressed the button for the eighteenth floor. The doors hissed shut.
Samarth has the whole floor to himself. I hope hes there, she added fretfully. We should have called ahead.
If hes half the workaholic hes cracked up to be, hell be there.
The lift whooshed upwards. Ben watched the illuminated floor numbers on a panel above the doors tick off, all the way up to eighteen. Then Brooke said, Here we are, and to the sound of a two-tone chime the sliding doors hissed open again to reveal the plush surroundings of the company CEOs personal domain. There wasnt a dusty plastic plant in sight, the air conditioning worked beautifully, and a secretary or PA a third of the age of Prajapatis receptionist and much more attractive in her manner greeted them warmly when Brooke walked up to the desk and introduced herself as Mr Rays sister-in-law. The PA checked the computer, slim fingers skipping over the keyboard. She wore a ring on her thumb and a name tag marked Salena.
He has a two oclock meeting, but I believe hes free for a few minutes. Please hold on while I check for you. Salena picked up the phone, spoke briefly in Hindi, then motioned towards a door at the end of a passage and said, Please go through, Mrs Ray. Hell be very happy to see you. Her dark eyes lingered on Ben, and she flashed him a coy smile.
Pretty, Brooke said in an undertone as they left the reception area.
Is she? I hadnt noticed.
Ill bet you hadnt.
Brooke was about to knock at the door when it opened, and Ben met Samarth Ray for the first time.
Chapter 17
Samarth was several years older and a couple of inches taller than Amal, the same height as Ben at just under six feet. The fraternal similarity was discernible, but youd have had to look twice. Where Amal was somewhat slight of build and not the sportiest of people, Samarth had the athletic look of a guy who played squash and worked out in the gym four times a week. And while Amal played up to his writerly image by slouching about most of the time in jogging pants and T-shirts, his elder brother was immaculately tailored and carried himself as ramrod-straight as an army colonel. The light grey silk three-piece looked Italian, like his shoes, and the gold ingot on his wrist was Swiss. His thick hair was swept back from a high brow, greying just enough at the temples to add to the look of urbane polish. But for all the veneer of dynamism and success about the man, the signs of stress, fatigue and grief were only thinly hidden below the surface.
Samarth embraced Brooke with real tenderness and invited them into his office. Floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides offered a sweeping panorama of the city. The furnishings were as tasteful and expensive as those at the house.
I apologise for dropping in on you out of the blue like this, Brooke said.
Samarth touched her arm and replied graciously, Its always a joy to see you, my dear, even under these tragic circumstances. His English was as polished as his appearance, with barely a trace of an accent.
Id like to introduce you to my friend Benedict Hope.
Just Ben, Ben said as they shook hands. Samarths grip was strong and dry. A pleasure to meet you, Mr Ray. Please may I offer my condolences at this difficult time.
Youre very kind. Thank you. Now, to what do I owe this pleasure?
I came to tell you some news, Brooke said. Both bad and good.
Samarth replied sadly, Given the choice, its always better to hear the bad news first. Can anything you have to tell me be worse than whats already happened?
I had a meeting with Prajapati this morning. Theres been no progress in the investigation.
Unfortunately that comes as no great surprise to me, Samarth said.
And hes resigning from the case.
Again, not entirely unexpected. And not entirely negative news, from my perspective. I was never persuaded that he needed to be hired in the first place.
Brooke said, We need all the help we can get, Samarth. And thats why I brought Ben to meet you.
Samarth looked at Ben. Is this the good news?
Brooke said, Theres nobody more expert when it comes to finding people. Hes come to India to offer us his services.
Samarth gave Ben a sad smile. Your reputation precedes you, Mr Hope. Youre the military man of whom my brother has spoken with such great admiration. A genuine hero, I gather.
Ex-military man, Ben said. As for a hero, I dont know. But I do know the world of kidnap and ransom. Im here to do anything I can possibly do to help resolve this situation.
Im touched by your kindness, Mr Hope. Please, wont you sit? Samarth stepped across to a plush white leather armchair by the window, and slumped in it as though suddenly deflated by so much worry.
Ben perched on the edge of an armchair opposite. Brooke settled on a chair by Samarths desk. Ben said, Mr Ray, I know youre a busy man, so Ill get straight to the point. It seems that Amal had reason to believe he knew why Kabir disappeared, and who might be responsible for the attack on him and his associates. Were working on a possible theory that Amals own disappearance might be connected.
Samarth looked blank for a moment, then frown lines etched his face. I dont understand. Connected in what way?
Brooke said, Amal told me that Kabir confided a secret to him, just before he left for Rakhigarhi.
A secret? Im sorry, again I dont understand what you mean. What kind of secret?
We think it concerned Kabirs work, Ben said. Some discovery hed made, something hed found, that he was very excited by and shared with Amal. Something of great importance or value. Were speculating that it could be some archaeological find, but we dont know what. I was hoping that you might be able to shed light on the matter. It could provide us with a real insight into whats happened, not just to Kabir but to Amal as well.
Samarth began tapping at the arm of his chair with a finger. Are you saying that you believe my brothers disappearances to be the work of a single abductor?