Several seconds passed before she made any move. Then she began slowly to inch her way towards the front of the shop. She would crouch down behind the shelter of the canvas awning. If she moved with caution, she would have a vantage point from where to check the street. But she was only halfway towards the entrance when a shadow fell across the front of the shop. It was Suri, and he seemed poised to come in. Hastily, she retreated and bumped into the shopkeeper busy unpacking a new box of dyes.
‘Sorry,’ she gasped out, ‘is there anywhere …’ She looked frantically towards the small door at the rear. It boasted the English word ‘Private’.
‘You are sick, memsahib?’
‘Yes, sick, very sick.’
It wasn’t an exaggeration. Her stomach was twisting horribly and she felt water beading her forehead. The shopkeeper looked alarmed and immediately ushered her through the door to his private quarters. She turned into a rudimentary bathroom and fastened the lock. Leaning back against the cool wood, she breathed long and deep. The brown spotted mirror on the wall opposite showed her face a ghastly shade of grey. No wonder the shopkeeper had been swift to act. But how was she to get out of this? Suri might not after all come into the shop, but without leaving her sanctuary, she couldn’t know. And she couldn’t stay here long or the shop owner would become concerned and set up a fuss. She looked around. Beneath the mirror was a cracked basin and to one side, a hole in the ground which served as the toilet. Other than that, nothing. Then she saw the stool, half hidden behind the door. If she dragged it to the window, already open to allow what fresh air there was to circulate the room, could she escape that way? The aperture was small and once she’d clambered onto the stool she could see there was no possibility of getting through the narrow space. But from this angle, she could also see that the larger side window had a catch that could be reached. It was stuck from being unused for so long and she had to tug and tug before she felt any movement. The stool began to rock from side to side, threatening to overbalance on the uneven floor. It was not going to stop her though. She was gradually prising the window open.
‘Memsahib, are you all right?’
‘Yes,’ she called back, trying not to sound as breathless as she felt. ‘Much better, thank you. I’ll be out in just a minute.’
‘Please to take your time, lady.’
In several more minutes, she thought, the poor man would be breaking down the door. A final tug with one hand and a push with the other and the window opened an inch, then another inch, and then just sufficiently for her slim form to slide through. She hadn’t thought what she would find on the other side but luck was with her. It was a small fall to the ground and she made it without mishap.
She was in a narrow lane which ran parallel to the main street and was bisected by several even narrower lanes. Several of the shops had rear entrances and almost at the same time as she noticed this, a man came out of one of the doors further along the road and propped himself against it. He appeared to present no immediate threat but instinctively she flattened herself against the wall. He was talking to someone inside the building, smoking a cigarette and waving it this way and that as he made a forceful point. She edged away from him and when he ducked his head inside the shop again, presumably to berate his companion, she ran at an angle towards one of the cramped passages on her right. An archway stood guardian and she passed through it into deep shadow. When she looked back, two figures had appeared at the rear of the shop. The second man was doing the arguing now and in response, the shopkeeper threw his cigarette away into the gutter. A gesture of anger, or was it disgust? She didn’t wait to find out, for the second man was Dalip Suri.
She hurried along the passageway of shuttered houses, avoiding the inches-deep rubbish and sidestepping several stray dogs. A child ran out from what appeared to be a slit in one wall and contemplated her solemnly. His mother’s voice sounded in the distance and he gave her one last long stare and ran off. Daisy walked on. She knew she must find a way back to the jeep. She’d been lost before in Jasirapur’s maze of small streets and alleys, and the memory of how that had ended was still with her. There was nothing hostile here though, just silence and the hot, heavy air. She consciously relaxed into a slower walk. As long as she was travelling away from Suri, she thought. She was unsure why she felt such fear of him. He’d tried to run her down, that was reason enough she supposed, but it had happened because she’d been asking awkward questions. She was asking them no longer, so why hunt her down? It made no sense. There had to be something more and she had a strong suspicion that Grayson knew what it was. He’d said nothing directly, but she was certain he believed the Suris were involved in Javinder Joshi’s disappearance. It seemed most unlikely, but then she wasn’t an agent in secret intelligence. Whatever the trouble, though, she was now well and truly caught in it, and, if Suri saw her, she wouldn’t like to bet on her chances of disappearing alongside Javinder.
The passage had come to an end at a junction and she was faced with turning either to the right or the left. Where was she in relation to the main street? Right, she thought, I need to take the right fork. She looked at her watch. The minutes were racing by and she should be back at the jeep. She’d been gone nearly half an hour and Grayson was bound to be concerned, debating where on earth she’d got to. She scurried along this new passageway, the high buildings on either side offering her much needed shade, but at the same time trapping the suffocating air between their empty faces. She stopped to wipe her hands with her one clean handkerchief, then hurried on as quickly as possible. The narrow thoroughfare seemed far too long and she thought she must have taken the wrong route, but at last the end came into sight.
Except that it wasn’t the end, for another junction had appeared. A choice this time between two passages, which branched at different angles, but, as far as she could tell, were both travelling in more or less the same direction. She must get back to the car, she must choose quickly. Could Grayson even now be deciding to drive away and leave her? Or would he be sitting sweltering in the jeep, counting the minutes as they ticked by, and in a towering temper? That was more likely. He could be setting out to look for her. If so, he would almost certainly start with the shops, and then just as certainly he would meet Suri. No, she thought, she couldn’t let that happen. She must get to him and warn him. But which way to go?
As she stood irresolute, her body tense, her mind strained, there was a sound in her ear. Almost a low growl. She jumped, quite literally. The thin thread of control that had so far kept her going snapped and she nearly fled back the way she’d come. But she told herself not to be so foolish and stood her ground. She’d stopped outside a house a little more prosperous than the rest. There was a window at shoulder level and on its sill sat a large, glossy black cat. It was his rich purr of welcome that she’d heard. She reached out her hand and stroked the soft coat and in return he rubbed his head against her. Then he jumped lightly down from the sill and tangled himself around her ankles. She bent down and stroked him again.
‘Which way shall I go?’ she asked him.
He looked at her with wide green eyes and bumped his head against her leg. Then he set off along one of the passages and for some reason she followed him. The passage began a snake-like progress, twisting and turning every few yards. All along its length, a multitude of alleyways branched off in different directions, making her head swim with the effort of trying to work out where she was. But the cat continued to pad forward and she continued to follow. She must be quite mad, she thought. The heat, the danger, had turned her mind, that was the only explanation. To be following a cat in the hope of ending up in the right place. She seemed again to walk for an age but in reality it could have been no more than five minutes before she saw a second archway come into view. The animal stopped in his tracks and jumped sideways up on to a small wall. He was going no further it seemed. She gave him a farewell stroke and walked towards the arch, peering cautiously around its ancient brickwork. It was astonis
hing, a miracle. She was back in the main street. The beautiful black cat had performed a miracle.
She glanced up the road. From here, she could just make out the jeep parked some way away but was unable to see if Grayson was at the wheel. She turned her head to look to the left and her heart was sent skittering again. Suri was still there, still in sight. She hadn’t shaken him off. He must have visited every shop in the village, though why he’d done so was a puzzle. He was lingering now outside a chai stall, some way down from the dye shop, but at that very moment, she saw Grayson rounding the corner at the top of the street. Her first thought was to wonder where he’d been, the second was far more desperate. Go in, go in, her inner voice was shouting at the loitering man. She held her breath while the two figures drew ever closer, and at what seemed the final moment before they met, Suri ducked into the chai shop while Grayson walked past its door, oblivious of the threat.
She waited until he drew near, then walked out from under the arch and across his path. ‘I’m here, Grayson.’ He’d been deep in thought and at the sound of her voice his head jerked up and he looked dazedly in her direction.
‘Don’t scold,’ she pre-empted him. ‘I had to get out of the jeep. I was being roasted alive and you were so long.’
He looked guilty. ‘I’m sorry. It took a little longer than I thought.’
‘Buying mangoes?’
He didn’t pick up her challenge but dangled a bag in front of her, bursting with fruit. ‘These should last us several days. They were picked this very morning. Do you want one?’
‘Not now,’ she said nervously. ‘We should go.’
‘What’s the sudden hurry?’ He stopped dead, his gaze searching and ready for trouble. ‘What have you been doing?’
‘What do you think? Wandering around the stalls to pass the time.’ She would save the details for later. ‘But I saw something, someone who shouldn’t be here.’
‘Stop talking in riddles.’ He sounded hot and irritated.
‘I’m not. There’s no riddle. I recognised him immediately. It was Dalip Suri.’
‘Suri? Here? You must be mistaken.’
She shook her head. ‘He is here. You can go into the chai shop to check. But please don’t. He can’t mean any good to either of us. Let’s get out of here.’
Without another word, Grayson pushed her into the jeep’s roasting interior and, in a second, had regained the driver’s seat and hammered the engine into life amid a cloud of dust.
CHAPTER 13
When they were well clear of the village, he said, ‘You are absolutely sure you saw him?’
‘I couldn’t be more certain. But what does it mean?’
‘I don’t know. It could be chance that he was there but it’s unlikely. And if it’s not chance, he’s either following us or going where we’re going. It’s a mystery, that’s for sure. He didn’t see you, I suppose?’
‘No, but it was a close call. I escaped through the back of one of the shops, then found my way round to the main street again.’ If she didn’t mention the cat, it sounded quite respectable.
‘You’re turning into a spook, Daisy. When we get back to London, perhaps you should rethink your career. I may take you on.’
He was smiling and she knew the frost between them was melted. She smiled back. She hadn’t realised how much their renewed friendship meant to her, until it was no longer there.
‘You were a long time buying fruit,’ she hazarded.
‘Mmm.’
‘Which means?’
‘I suppose it won’t harm you to know. Javinder had an informant in the village. I went to see him.’
Somehow she’d expected something like that. ‘Did he know anything about Javinder’s disappearance?’
‘He had a few interesting theories about what might have happened, but nothing concrete. Two months ago, he had an appointment to meet Javinder in Sikaner. He was told his help was needed and it was urgent. But Javinder never turned up at the meeting place. The man skulked around town trying to get information but rumours were all he heard. Then he was strong-armed by some of the Rajah’s less civilised minions and was lucky to escape with his life. He made for the village we’ve just left. Nobody knew him there and he’s been holed up ever since.’
‘What does he think happened to Javinder?’
‘It’s looking grim. The men who pursued this chap meant business. He thinks Javinder must have been killed.’
She thought about this a while before she said, ‘How did you know about the informant? How did you know how to find him?’
‘I saw his name in a notebook Javinder left and then made my own enquiries.’
‘Then Mike did find something?’ she said surprised.
‘No. I did.’
His tone suggested it might be better not to pursue this, so instead she asked the question that was burning tracks through her brain. ‘Do you think that was why Dalip Suri was in the village—to find this informant rather than us?’
‘Could be.’
‘Then the Rajah’s men must have traced him from Sikaner. So Suri and Sikaner are connected in some way,’ she said excitedly.
‘Almost certainly, though how is a mystery.’
‘And your informant? Will he be safe now?’
‘Let’s hope so. I gave him money to move on—I imagine he’s already on the road.’
Grayson knew more than he was saying, she was certain, but she would have to be content with what he’d told her. She could see he was struggling to untangle a puzzle where the links were tantalisingly there but where, for the moment, he could see no connection. The mystery was far wider it seemed than Javinder’s disappearance, and the threat correspondingly greater. Yet since her experience in the village this morning, she’d begun to feel less fearful. It had been frightening, true enough, but just knowing that she’d been right about Suri had made her feel better. And knowing he’d been left behind was immensely reassuring. In a happier frame of mind, she settled herself to the long drive ahead.
They were several hours distant from the village, when she asked, ‘When can we stop again?’ Her stomach was beginning to feel very empty.
‘Feeling tired?’
‘Feeling hungry.’
‘Once we’re on the mountain road—’ he indicated the forbidding shape that loomed ahead ‘—we’ll park up and have some lunch. A very late lunch.’
It would take at least an hour to get there, she calculated, and resigned herself to more discomfort. Hunger as well as heat. Over the last few miles, the jeep had managed to pick up speed and a slipstream of air was at least keeping her forehead cool, even though every other part of her was slowly baking. Like a nicely turned chicken, she thought. She saw runnels of perspiration streaking Grayson’s face. But he seemed not to notice, his entire concentration on the difficult road ahead.
They were soon at the foothills of the mountain and began on the long haul to its summit. As the road climbed, it began imperceptibly to narrow and after a while, they appeared to be travelling on a single bare strip of gravel which wound its way ever upwards. On one side, the rough walls of the mountain leaned towards them and on the other, a few sparse bushes alone marked the road’s edge. She was foolish enough to look down as they swung around a sharp double bend and wished she hadn’t. The drop was vertical and far below the flat plain looked a toytown landscape. It felt as though the jeep’s wheels were riding on thin air and at any moment the vehicle could plunge to its destruction.
‘Close your eyes,’ Grayson advised.
She must be looking an odd colour, she thought, but took his advice.
They swung around the answering bend and suddenly the tyres gave a high-pitched screech and they slammed to a halt. She felt her heart stall along with the car. Unwillingly, she opened her eyes. There was a man. He was seated in the middle of the road. And but for Grayson’s swift action, he would have disappeared beneath their wheels.
She gripped her seat until the knuckles showed whi
te. Their front tyres had stopped within inches of the man’s crossed legs. Grayson was forced to reverse the car, the overhanging mountain on one side and a yawning void on the other. She stared determinedly ahead, refusing to see anything but the blotched windscreen. If she was about to topple to her death, she didn’t want to know, but she was very aware of Grayson’s tense figure beside her. From the jeep’s new position on the road, he had somehow to swerve the vehicle around the unmoving form. Wholly unconcerned, the man continued to sit motionless, staring unblinkingly into space. His bare chest and forehead were streaked with ashes, his hair uncut and tumbling in matted black strands to his shoulders.
They trundled slowly forward, missing the seated figure by inches and edging themselves around the next bend. Grayson let out a long breath as though he’d been hugging it to himself. And why not? Her legs were jelly and she wasn’t the one behind the wheel.
‘Why the ashes?’ she asked, in the hope of distracting herself from their narrow escape.
‘I’m told they’re a symbol of the body’s transience.’
She digested this. ‘But what is he doing halfway up a mountain?’
‘Where better to meditate?’ Grayson, it seemed, had recovered his poise.
‘He had nothing with him. No food, no drink. Don’t you think that’s strange?’
‘Not entirely, if his life is one of renunciation. He’s allowed only a stave, a skin to sit on and a water gourd, and I saw the gourd so he won’t die of thirst.’
‘We could have died though. He could easily have killed us.’
Grayson simply nodded. He appeared to think it quite normal to be brought to a halt by a man meditating on a precipitous road. This was India, after all. But the incident had been life threatening and coming so soon after her encounter with Dalip Suri, it didn’t appear at all normal to Daisy. It was too much of a coincidence. She would like to have said as much, but her companion was concentrating on manoeuvring the vehicle round bend after bend and she felt nervous of distracting him. The terrors of the mountain track were very real and kept her silent for long periods, but eventually hunger got the better of her. It was hours since they’d had a very small breakfast.
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