Chapter 2 #3
“One would hardly know it, looking at your record.” Padma flashed Vijay an apologetic smile. “Our Kondi has been most exacting in her standards for a husband.” Her eyes flashed back to her granddaughter with a dangerous glitter. “Perhaps a little too exacting.”
Constance’s cheeks drained.
Ellie had nearly forgotten that Constance’s parents had threatened her with consequences if she failed to pick a suitor by her next birthday—which was only a few months away.
So far, Constance’s formidable grandmother had appeared to be neutral on the issue.
If Padma changed her mind, Constance would be in real trouble—not least because her Aai knew the vast majority of Constance’s secrets and past transgressions.
She had been the one to help Constance cover them up—and then add each and every one of those acts of assistance to her running tally of favors.
The same favors that had compelled them all here to India.
Should Padma decide to take Constance’s parents’ side on the marriage debate, she had more than ample leverage to force Constance to comply. The thought was sharply sobering.
“But there will be plenty of time to discuss all that later, once we have taken care of more pressing matters,” Padma smoothly concluded.
Vijay cut in. “And on those pressing matters—Auntie Padma suggested that you four might be willing to assist us with this particular task, though it’s not the welcome to India that I would’ve planned for you.”
“Pretty sure we came out here to help,” Adam pointed out.
“I’ll admit there are some advantages to using you for the job as opposed to my own men,” Vijay allowed.
“I doubt Borthwick will suspect anyone is on to him about the theft, but if he does, he’ll be watching for Indians, not Englishmen—or an upper-class lady in English dress,” he added with a wink at Constance.
“And I’m guessing if he did catch any of your people, they’d be in a heap of trouble—that might point right back to you,” Adam added darkly.
“You would be correct,” Mr. Chowdhury replied with a significant look at his royal companion. “If any of you are noticed following him, you might simply pretend you meant to ask him for some sort of assistance.”
“Which an Indian person wouldn’t likely do, I suppose,” Ellie elaborated uncomfortably.
“No,” Mr. Chowdhury agreed with telling succinctness.
“Of course, we’ll do it,” Constance asserted brightly. “We’re more than happy to aid in whatever way we can. Aren’t we, Stuffy?”
“I can’t claim to be very experienced with this sort of thing, but—yes,” Neil confirmed, mustering up a look of determination.
Adam looked to the maharaja and his solicitor. “So how do we find him?”
“He’s in charge of security for the procession,” Mr. Chowdhury replied. “He will be here personally to oversee it. He’s not the sort that leaves things to underlings.”
“Likes to keep himself in the thick of it,” Vijay added grimly.
Ellie’s skin crawled with notions of what ‘in the thick of it’ might look like to a man who tortured the families of his suspects.
Mr. Chowdhury plucked a page from his briefcase, handing it to Ellie. “Here’s his photograph.”
She held an image of a man of roughly sixty, trimly built, with a stiff military bearing.
He was dressed in an Indian Army uniform, epaulets loaded with the crowns and stars of his rank.
A ruthlessly cropped mustache accented his lip under a hawkish nose and sharp cheekbones.
His eyes looked pale against a complexion weathered by years of tropical campaigns.
“Find him and track him. Determine where he’s planning to stay for the night,” Mr. Chowdhury instructed. “I’ve looked into the usual spots, but nothing’s come up under his name. He either hasn’t made plans, or he’s determined to keep them confidential.”
“Perhaps because he’s engaging in a spot of outright thievery,” Vijay returned dryly. “If we know where he’s hiding out, we can make a play for the manuscript then.”
“Find the guy. Follow him to his rat hole,” Adam summarized after a quick study of the print in Ellie’s hand. “Got it.”
“But where will you be?” Constance asked.
“I’m a bit too recognizable to go jaunting about the festival with you.
” Vijay’s reluctant tone indicated that he would have preferred to plunge into the action.
“And there are important reasons why I must be seen to be doing exactly what I’m expected to at the moment—which is gadding about with the upper crust as though I haven’t a care in the world. ”
He punctuated the remark with a significant look at his solicitor.
“I will wait for you at the Hotel Jayadeva on Badasirei Road,” Mr. Chowdhury instructed. “The rooms will be listed under the name Kazi.”
“Auntie, you’d best stick with me,” Vijay said. “Word’s got out that I had my private carriage down to Madras, and you’re the excuse. I’d rather Borthwick doesn’t think I’m involved with Connie and her friends just yet.”
Padma turned an eagle eye to the four of them. “Can I trust that you might manage this task without getting yourselves into too much trouble?”
Constance treated her grandmother to a blindingly confident smile. “Whatever would make you think we’d get into trouble?”
Mr. Mahjoud sighed eloquently. Padma arched a wry brow.
Constance thrust her hand through Neil’s arm. “Come on, Stuffy.”
Neil held back with a nervous look. “My luggage… please just leave it for me to manage?” He winced awkwardly. “It’s… best if no one else opens it.”
Vijay shrugged at the request, clearly puzzled. A maharaja with an enormous personal staff must have found it hard to fathom why anyone would want to burden themselves with unpacking their own things.
Mr. Chowdhury glanced at his watch, then snapped it shut. “You have your instructions. Find Borthwick and follow him. Return to me as soon as you know where he has gone.” He fixed them all with a quelling, authoritative glare. “Do not involve yourselves any further than that.”
A pair of uniformed constables turned the corner. They stopped, looking out over the packed crowd.
Vijay treated Constance to another quick hug. “We’ll catch up properly soon, I promise. Best of luck—and stay safe!”
Mr. Chowdhury took Vijay’s arm in a gesture that looked both quietly deferential and subtly proprietary, steering him into the luxury hotel that abutted the street.
Padma lingered behind them. “Do try not to disrupt this very holy festival in the process?”
Ellie considered her companions—the beaming and fashionable Constance, who almost certainly had knives strapped to her garters. Neil blinking behind his spectacles, his bow tie slightly askew.
Adam sneaking the dog another pastry.
“No disruptions,” Ellie awkwardly assured her. “Ma’am.”
Padma patted her cheek with a warm, dry hand. “I told you to call me Auntie, Jhia.”
The request sounded like a warning.
She sailed into the hotel. Mr. Mahjoud followed after treating each of them to a glare that perfectly expressed his deep skepticism of their ability to stay out of trouble.
Neil looked from the photograph in Ellie’s hand to the boisterous crowd that packed the street as far as they could see in each direction. “Where on earth do we start looking for one man in all of this?”
Adam’s mouth tightened as though the figure of the pale-eyed colonel unsettled him. He scanned thoughtfully over the landscape of the festival, from the slowly rolling towers of the gods to the dancers, priests, and brash-voiced vendors.
Actors played on makeshift stages. Incense rose from roadside puja ceremonies. The wealthy crowded along the balconies that overlooked the festival, wearing Brooks Brothers suits and gold-accented saris.
Adam’s assessment rose higher—and he sighed. “I think I have an idea.”
“Why do you sound so unenthusiastic about it?” Ellie demanded.
“Because it involves the roof?” Adam returned queasily.
“Oh!” Ellie exclaimed with a burst of sympathetic understanding.
Adam did have a miserable time with heights.
“Maybe we can do the roof part, and you can… er… keep an eye on the dog?” she helpfully suggested.
“Sounds great,” Adam readily agreed. He rubbed Kalb between his ears, the dog panting with blissful approval.
“Is your fear of heights really that bad?” Constance pressed.
“I’m not afraid of heights,” Adam grumbled. “They just make me feel like the ground’s turned into waves and somebody poured a bottle of bad hooch down my throat.”
“You don’t want him up there.” Neil looked a bit pale at the notion. “I’ve seen what happens. It really isn’t pretty.”
“You and a dead emu, am I right?” Adam returned cheerfully, slapping Neil on the shoulder.
“A dead emu?” Constance echoed, gleefully curious.
Neil shot Adam an uncomfortable look. “Maybe we should save that story for later.”
“Neil was reprimanded by the dean over it,” Ellie added just a little wickedly as she recalled the scolding her stepmother had subjected Neil to over the incident.
“You are all being terribly unfair.” Constance punctuated the remark with a pout.
“Just go up there and look for guys in khaki,” Adam instructed. “Wherever you see the largest number of them all coming and going will be their headquarters.”
Constance shrugged. “Sounds simple enough.”
“Except for the part about getting onto the roof,” Neil added.
“Oh, we’ll figure something out,” Constance breezily assured him, tugging him along.