‘Whatever you want,’ she said.
‘Great. But we’ll have to get going - we’ve got a lot more planning to do, and not much time to do it.’ He frowned. ‘And I’ve just realised - if Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom isn’t a reliable source of information, then I know sod-all about India . . .’
16
India
‘So,’ said Mac, leaning against Eddie’s seat, ‘how much have you learned about India?’
Eddie held up the guide book he had bought at JFK before their flight to Delhi departed. ‘Well, I found out that Delhi and New Delhi are the same place, that Bangalore’s called “the Silicon Valley of India” even though it’s not in a valley, and that if I ever want to look at a bunch of temples, I can stick a pin anywhere on a map and find some. Apart from that, though . . . nowt really helpful. I’ve got no idea where would be a good place for the swap.’
‘You don’t have any useful contacts in India?’
‘Only Saheli, and she’s out of the country. There’s this guy from Interpol I met recently, Kit, but I don’t know if he’d be up for helping with something like this - he seemed a bit by-the-book. What about you? You went there in the SAS, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, but that was almost thirty years ago. And I was acting as an adviser to the National Security Guard for the Queen’s state visit, not being a tourist.’
‘Then unless we can get someone local on our side, we’ll have to wing it.’
‘Never really ideal in a hostage situation.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ Eddie closed the book. ‘Mac . . . I really appreciate you doing this for me.’
The Scot smiled. ‘What are friends for? Besides, I know you’d do the same for me. Although,’ his eyes twinkled, ‘I can’t imagine what I might possibly be doing that would need that kind of help. You and Nina do have a knack for getting into extreme situations.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Eddie said ruefully. ‘I’ve been shot at more in the past four years than in the bloody Regiment! But,’ he went on, resolute, ‘I’m going to get Nina out of this situation.’
‘We both are,’ said Mac firmly. He held out his hand; Eddie grasped it. ‘Fight to the end.’
‘Fight to the end,’ Eddie repeated. They exchanged a look of comradeship, and more, then released their grip as the airliner’s seat belt lights came on. The plane was descending.
‘See you on the ground.’ Mac headed to his seat. The two men were sitting separately for a very simple reason: security. Eddie suspected that news of his theft of the Talonor Codex would have spread beyond New York. Waiting for him - and anyone accompanying him - when the plane landed could well be the Indian police.
Or, worse, Khoil’s people.
Either way, he would know soon enough.
He found out before even reaching the terminal.
The airliner stopped just short of its gate at Indira Gandhi International, where the captain announced that due to a security issue, passengers should remain seated until given the all-clear. Mac looked back at Eddie in concern, getting a resigned nod in return. The plane then advanced to the jetway. A trio of armed police officers boarded, their leader speaking to one of the stewardesses before they marched down the aisle. ‘Edward Chase?’ the officer in charge asked.
Eddie smiled politely. ‘My mates call me Eddie.’
‘Come with us, please.’
He concealed his worry beneath a mock-casual shrug as he stood and was handcuffed before being led from the aircraft. Never mind finding a location to make the exchange; there might not even be an exchange.
He had to convince his interrogators of his reasons for stealing the Codex. If he could persuade them that letting him carry out the exchange would not only save Nina’s life but could also both recover the Codex and lead to the arrest of the man who had ordered its theft, maybe he had a chance of release . . .
That chance vanished as he was brought through a keypad-locked door into the terminal’s security area. Waiting outside one of the rooms was a man he had seen on Khoil’s plane - the one with the filed teeth.
The leading officer glanced round to make sure nobody was watching, then accepted a wad of banknotes that was quickly spirited into a pocket. ‘Oi, what’s this?’ Eddie said loudly, knowing full well what it was: Khoil had cops on his payroll. If he made enough of a scene, he might attract attention from someone honest - but the corridor was lined with interrogation rooms, not busy offices. Noisy protests would be expected, and ignored.
‘Take him with Mr Singh,’ said the officer, nodding towards a side passage that led to an exit. The two other cops grabbed Eddie’s arms as Singh gave him another unpleasantly pointed smile.
‘Get the fuck off me!’ Eddie shouted. He tried to break away, but with his wrists cuffed his actions were limited - and the two cops were prepared for trouble, one driving a fierce jab into his kidneys. They started to hustle him down the passage—
‘Stop!’ someone shouted, voice commanding. ‘What’s going on here?’
Eddie looked round - and to his surprise saw Ankit Jindal striding towards him, a senior uniformed officer right behind. The cops froze, unsure what to do - and Singh immediately took off at a run, barging through the exit.
‘These twats were about to hand me over for some private questioning,’ Eddie growled.
Kit reached him and looked down the corridor, but Singh was gone. ‘Who was that?’
‘One of Khoil’s lot.’
The senior officer glowered at his subordinates, giving them a tongue-lashing in Hindi before holding out his hand to the leader. Reluctantly, the man gave him the banknotes. The officer made a disgusted sound as the three cops filed away. ‘I will deal with them,’ he told Kit. ‘What about this man?’
‘He’s an Interpol matter,’ said Kit. ‘I’ll handle him. Do you have a room available?’
The officer indicated a nearby door, then followed the shamed men down the corridor. Eddie watched them go. ‘What’ll happen to them?’
Kit sighed. ‘A slap on the wrist, probably. Bribery is very common in India - everyone from clerks to politicians has their hand out. We’re starting to make progress, but when you have a billion people who have lived with that system all their lives, it takes time for things to change.’ He opened the door and ushered Eddie into an interview room.
‘So what’re you doing here?’ Eddie asked. He sat, Kit facing him across a small table.
‘Interpol put a red notice - an arrest order - on you. It was too late to stop you flying from New York, so I decided to meet you when you arrived. And it seems I was just in time. What on earth is going on, Eddie?’
Eddie recounted what had happened since he left the Interpol officer in France. ‘So I’m bloody glad you turned up when you did,’ he concluded. ‘Khoil - or his wife, just as likely - probably thought they could torture the Codex’s location out of me. I’d have made it really fucking hard for them, but I’m still happy I didn’t need to.’
Kit leaned back thoughtfully. ‘I’ve been looking into the Khoils. Some very interesting things have turned up.’
‘What kinds of things?’
‘A lot of financial activity. They’ve been buying up land and properties in odd locations and putting enormous amounts of money into the aid organisation they run. It’s all legal, but there seems to be an organised plan behind it all. What that plan is, though, I don’t know.’
‘But it’s made you suspicious.’
Kit smiled slightly. ‘My radar is beeping. There’s nothing connecting the Khoils directly to the thefts carried out by Fernandez’s gang, but we obtained Fernandez’s bank records, and over the past several months various sums of money went in soon after equally large sums went out of the Khoils’ businesses. Minus the percentage you would expect a money launderer to take, of course.’
‘Isn’t that enough to act on?’
‘No, it’s only circumstantial. There’s no paper trail. But I think you were right about their involvement.
The difficulty will be proving it. We still haven’t got anything useful from the dead woman in Lyon, only your word that she was working for the Khoils.’
‘Have you questioned them yet?’
‘I didn’t want to tip my hand. Eddie, you have to understand that the Khoils are extremely powerful. I may be a member of Interpol, but we work in conjunction with local law enforcement. No Indian cop would be willing to risk his career by taking action against them unless he’s absolutely certain of his case - and even then, it wouldn’t take much to buy him off, as you just saw.’
‘So,’ said Eddie, ‘where does that leave us? You going to have me shipped back to New York?’
‘Perhaps.’ Kit regarded him silently for a moment . . . then produced a key and unlocked the handcuffs. ‘But not just yet. I really do think that there’s a case against the Khoils - and that if I help you, we’ll not only be able to rescue Nina, but catch them in the act. Kidnapping across international borders is Interpol’s responsibility, and since Nina was taken from the United States the trial would take place there. Pramesh and Vanita would find it a lot harder to buy their way out of trouble in New York.’
Eddie pulled off the cuffs. ‘You’ll help me, then?’
‘Yes. It will be a risk professionally - but I think the chance is worth taking.’ He smiled. ‘So what do you have in mind?’
Even on this December day, it was still over seventy degrees Fahrenheit. Eddie wound down the window of Kit’s non-air-conditioned car, but the pollution from the congested highway immediately encouraged him to put it back up. ‘Is traffic always this bad?’
‘Almost,’ said Kit as they crawled towards central Delhi. ‘But it’s worse than usual right now because of the preparations for the G20 summit. Several main roads have been closed.’
‘Politicians always have to inconvenience everybody else, don’t they?’
It took close to forty minutes to traverse the last mile of their journey, accompanied the entire way by a chorus of blaring horns and screeching brakes. As Kit had warned, closed streets forced them into a lengthy diversion before they reached the Orchard hotel, a mile from the central government district of Vijay Chowk. Someone was waiting for them in the lobby - but not, to Eddie’s relief, another of Khoil’s henchmen. ‘What kept you?’ asked Mac.
Eddie grinned and shook his hand. ‘Little problem at customs. How’d you get here so fast?’
‘I took the Metro. Less than a pound to get from the airport right into the centre of Delhi. I wish the Tube in London was that cheap.’ He regarded Kit. ‘And I thought you didn’t have any friends in India.’
Eddie made the introductions. ‘Kit’s been checking out the Khoils,’ he went on. ‘And he thinks he’s got something.’
‘Nothing definite,’ Kit said apologetically. ‘But enough to catch my interest regarding the art thefts. All I need is proof.’
‘We’ll get some for you,’ said Eddie. ‘Proof of kidnapping, too. And we’ve got the perfect bait. At least, I hope we have. Mac?’
‘Let’s find out.’ He went to the reception desk. ‘Do you have a package for me? The name’s McCrimmon, Jim McCrimmon.’
The receptionist tapped at her computer. ‘Yes, we do. I’ll bring it for you.’ She went into a back room, returning with a large and heavy cardboard box.
‘What is it?’ Kit asked.
‘What I’m wanted for,’ Eddie told him. As well as shipping labels for an overnight courier company, the box also bore a United Nations customs waiver and numerous Do Not X-Ray stickers arranged by Lola, allowing it to be transported without the usual checks - a trick Eddie had used before to get items that would otherwise raise a lot of questions into other countries. ‘That Codex thing - and also my new Wildey.’
Kit gave him a questioning look. ‘Your what?’
‘A gun. A big gun. Thought it might be handy.’
Mac shook his head. ‘You haven’t bought another of those ridiculous things, have you?’
Eddie snorted. ‘It’s a good gun, and anyone who makes jokes about me compensating for something can fuck right off. We’ve got other things to think about - like how we’re going to rescue Nina.’
They retreated to a quiet corner of the hotel bar. ‘Can’t you get them to make the exchange in Delhi rather than Bangalore?’ asked Kit, after Eddie explained the situation. ‘I can arrange backup more easily.’
‘Khoil demanded it,’ said Eddie. ‘Or rather, his wife did. Probably shouldn’t have said yes, but we’re stuck with it now.’
‘It does give him the home advantage,’ noted Mac. ‘Wherever we choose for the actual handover, he’ll be able to have his people in place beforehand.’
‘I wasn’t planning on giving him much advance warning. Ring him up, tell him to meet us at such and such a place in an hour. We can keep an eye on anyone who turns up.’ He looked at Kit. ‘But we’ve got to pick a place first. Do you know Bangalore?’
Kit nodded. ‘I go there quite often. There are a lot of new millionaires in Bangalore from all the technology companies . . . several of them have tried to build up art collections, without caring where the art came from.’
‘Do you know any local police?’ Mac asked.
‘Some, but they may not be willing to act against the Khoils without very solid evidence. But I can ask for help, at least.’
‘Great,’ said Eddie. ‘What about a place to make the exchange? Somewhere very public, preferably with security around.’
Kit thought for a moment, then smiled broadly. ‘Do you like cricket?’
17
Bangalore
‘I don’t like cricket,’ Eddie muttered as he entered the grandstand.
‘That’s because you lack taste and class,’ Mac joked, coming through the gate behind him.
‘I don’t know why you like it. I mean, you’re Scottish. It’s not exactly your national sport.’
‘Scotland has a fine cricket team.’
‘Yeah, and when was the last time they won anything?’
Mac made a faintly irritated sound. ‘It’s about the sportsmanship, not the winning.’
‘Bet you don’t say that when England lose, do you? And it’s the most boring sport imaginable. Give me footie or Formula One any day.’
‘I don’t think you’ll find this boring,’ Kit said, catching up to them with a heavy bag - a flash of his ID had allowed it to be brought into Bangalore’s M. Chinnaswamy stadium without being searched. ‘Indian matches aren’t like yours.’
Mac raised an eyebrow as he took in the scene. ‘You’re not joking.’
If British cricket events were staid and reserved, this was more like a carnival that happened to have a cricket match going on in the middle of it. Music blasted from loudspeakers, the crowd singing along, clapping and even pounding out beats on makeshift drums. Flags and banners waved, and in front of the grandstand was a display that would have left any blazer-wearing member of the Marylebone Cricket Club choking on his gin and tonic as a trio of cheerleaders danced and gyrated.
Eddie grinned. ‘Okay, Kit, you’re right - this is already a hundred times better than any other cricket match I’ve ever seen.’
Mac huffed, then continued along the grandstand towards his seat while Eddie and Kit descended the steps to find theirs. They had chosen their positions carefully; Eddie was in the front row with a couple of empty seats around him where Khoil - and Nina - could sit when they arrived, with Kit a couple of rows behind so he could observe events, and if necessary make a rapid exit with the Codex. Mac was further round, equipped with binoculars to give Eddie advance warning of potential trouble.
Eddie sat, watching the people filing into the grandstand around him. Most were male, displaying a mixture of ages and clothing styles; none seemed remotely interested in the balding Caucasian in the front row, the cheerleaders dominating their attention.
He glanced back at Kit, who responded with a small nod. Further away, he saw Mac in his seat, more men taking their places aroun
d him. So far, so good. He took out his phone and attached a Bluetooth headset to one ear, then entered a number. ‘Okay, Mac. Give me a check.’
‘I see you,’ said Mac, ‘and I see Kit. No sign of Nina or this Khoil fellow.’
‘Well, it’s not time for the exchange yet. Anyone look suspicious?’
‘Not that I can see. Just a lot of very excited cricket fans.’
‘Now that’s suspicious.’
‘You just don’t appreciate the subtleties of the game. Now Kit on the other hand—’
‘Yeah, I had to put up with you both wibbling on about it the entire bloody flight down here. Maybe you should adopt him.’
‘Does that mean I can finally get rid of you? I only have time for one surrogate son.’
Eddie laughed, then took another look round. Still no sign of Nina or Khoil. ‘Keep your eyes open, Dad. Let’s see what happens.’
With great fanfare, the match began. Eddie feigned interest while keeping watch. The first innings ended, marked by music and another butt-shaking dance from the cheerleaders. Second innings, third. Then: ‘Eddie,’ said Mac over the headset. ‘To your left.’
Eddie turned to see Khoil coming down the steps. No Nina. He checked if anyone else was approaching from the other side, and saw the man who had choked Nina with the plastic bag. Kit gave Eddie a concerned look, but an almost imperceptible shake of the head told him to stay put and maintain a watching brief.
Khoil sat to Eddie’s left, the man in black on his right. ‘Mr Chase,’ said the billionaire.
‘Mr Khoil,’ Eddie replied. ‘Can’t help noticing you’ve forgotten something.’
‘As have you,’ said Khoil, leaning to look under Eddie’s seat and finding nothing. ‘Where is the Codex?’
‘Where’s Nina?’
‘In my car.’
‘Then get her in here. You can afford the tickets.’
‘Do you have the Codex?’
The Sacred Vault Page 21