Foreign Body (47 page)

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Authors: Robin Cook

BOOK: Foreign Body
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"Why on earth is that?" Laurie asked.

"To discourage wives from leaping onto husbands' funeral pyres," Jawahar said.

"Traditional India didn't make life easy for widows."

When they landed, Jack and Laurie were fascinated by the huge Shiva temple tilted and half submerged in the Ganges. Along with Arun, they walked over to gaze at it while Jawahar settled up with the boatmen.

In order to get from Scindia ghat to Manikarnika ghat, they had to enter the old section of the city that abutted the ghats for their four-mile extent. As soon as they moved away from the open waterfront, the city became entirely medieval in character, composed of dark, claustrophobic, twisting, yard-wide cobblestone lanes. In contrast to the silky coolness of the Ganges shoreline, they were now engulfed in fetid heat and the smell of old urine and cow dung. It was also crowded with people, cows, and dogs. Laurie wanted to pull into herself like a snail to avoid touching anything. The smell was such that she wanted to mouth-breathe, but fear of infectious disease made her want to breathe through her nose. Seldom had she been so uncomfortable as she tripped after Jawahar, desperately trying to avoid stepping in excrement.

Every so often there would be sudden relief of the claustrophobia as they came upon an illuminated restaurant, an open shop, or a bhang stall lit with a single bare bulb. But mostly it was dark, hot, and smelly.

"Alright, here's the stairway," Jawahar said, coming to such a sudden halt in the darkness that Laurie, who was second, bumped into him. She apologized; he dismissed it.

"These stairs will lead up to that large balcony. I advise you to all stay together. We don't want anyone to get lost."

Laurie couldn't imagine he'd think they might have the inclination to wander.

"There are various hostels up there," Jawahar continued. "Each one supervised by a different Brahmin. They are for the dying. Don't wander into them. There will be a few candles, but otherwise it will be dark. I've brought a flashlight, but we'll only use it when you actually take your sample. Are we all clear?"

Jack and Arun said yes. Laurie stayed quiet. Her mouth and throat had become dry.

"Are you okay, Laurie?" Jack asked. They all could barely see one another.

"I guess," Laurie managed, trying to scare up a bit of saliva to moisten her lips.

"Do you have the money?" Jawahar asked Jack.

"I got it," Jack said, giving his front hip pocket a slap.

"One other thing," Jawahar said. "Don't talk to the Dom."

"Who are the Dom?" Laurie asked.

"The Dom are the Untouchables who from time immemorial have worked the crematoria fires and handled the dead. They live here in the temple with the eternal fire of Shiva. They are dressed in white robes and shave their heads. Don't talk to them. They take their jobs very seriously."

Don't worry, Laurie thought but didn't say. I'm not talking to anybody.

Jawahar turned and mounted the stairs, which curved to the left and seemed interminable. When they emerged they were on a balcony with a rudimentary railing.

Directly out was the broad expanse of the river, with a nearly full moon rising. Below were the raging fires of the funeral pyres filling the air with sparks, ash, dry heat, and smoke. The Dom could be seen as black figures wielding long sticks as they prodded the fires into miniature infernos. The burning bodies were clearly in evidence in each.

Lying about on the surface of the balcony were thirty or so bodies encased in white muslin shrouds. In the back of the balcony, in a wide concave orientation, were the dark openings of various temples. The center one glowed with the eternal fire of Shiva.

"Let me have the money," Jawahar said, holding out his hand in the moonlight.

Jack complied.

"Everybody stay right here. I'll be right back."

"Good grief," Laurie complained. "This is awful."

"So, people actually come here and live in these caves to die?" Jack asked Arun.

"That was my understanding," Arun said.

Jawahar reappeared. He'd gone into one of the two corner Indian cupolas. "The bodies in question are in that tiny temple next to the stairs we used to get up here," he said. "The Brahmin told us to be quick and not draw attention to ourselves. The problem is that the Dom believe one of their major jobs is to protect the corpses."

"That's all we need," Laurie murmured, as they all moved in the direction they'd come.

She could feel herself start to tremble.

When they reached the temple, they ducked in one after the other. They waited until their eyes had adjusted as much as they were going to do. Besides the door opening, there was an unglazed window. Enough moonlight flooded in to see the two bodies side by side. They, too, were shrouded with white muslin.

"You have the syringes?" Jack asked Laurie. Laurie held them up. She'd taken them from her shoulder bag. Jack took one. "I'll do one, you do the other. I don't think we need the flashlight."

They untied the cord holding closed what turned out to be muslin sacks. Arun helped Laurie while Jawahar helped Jack pull the sacks down enough to expose the suprapubic area. Directing the needles straight down just cephaled of the pubis, both syringes filled with urine.

"A piece of cake," Jack said happily.

After securely capping both syringes, Laurie put them into her shoulder bag. Then everyone bent to the slightly more difficult task of getting the bodies back into the shrouds. Just as they were almost finished, the moonlight suddenly dimmed. Looking up, the group realized that the door was being blocked by two Dom. "What is going on in here?" the first demanded.

Jack responded first, getting to his feet and crowding the Dom out of the doorway.

"We're just finishing up. We're doctors. We wanted to make sure these two were truly dead. But we're done."

Jawahar, Laurie, and Arun pushed out of the temple right behind Jack.

Although the Dom were initially confused by Jack's statement, it didn't last long. "Body thieves!" he yelled out at the top of his lungs, and tried to grab onto the front of Jack's shirt.

"Run!" Jack yelled in response. Laurie did not need further invitation. She threw herself into the stairway, her legs churning. Jawahar came next, followed by Arun.

Jack gave a karate-style chop to the first Dom's grasping arms, only to have the second latch on to him from the side. At that point Jack used a closed fist, hitting the second Dom square in the face. In the background it looked like Dom were coming out of the stonework. Jack followed with another closed-fist body shot to the first Dom, who buckled. In the next instant Jack was on the stairs.

When he reached the narrow alleyway at the base of the stairs, it took him a moment to see Arun, who'd stayed in sight to wave him on. Jawahar was taking them in the opposite direction that they'd come. Jack ran toward Arun, who'd recommenced running.

Behind them they could hear a very vocal horde of Dom coming down the stairs.

In fabulous physical shape, Jack quickly overtook Arun, but then they both ran into Laurie and Jawahar, who'd gotten bogged down in pedestrian traffic. The dark, empty, very narrow lane had butted into a larger but more crowded alley complete with a prone cow chewing its cud. Laurie almost fell over the animal in her haste.

For another five minutes the group pushed and shoved their way to put more distance between themselves and the angered Dom. When they were confident they were no longer being chased, they stopped, each with his or her chest heaving from exertion-everyone, that is, except Jack. They looked at one another, and partially from the anxiety the episode had engendered, they laughed.

After they had recovered their breath, Jawahar led them through the labyrinthine lanes back to Vishwanath Gali, the shopping street that had initially taken them to the Dasashvamedha ghat. There Jawahar managed to hire two cycle rickshaws, which transported them back to the Taj Ganges hotel.

"What I want to do more than anything else," Laurie was saying as they approached the front desk to get their room keys, "is take a long shower."

"Are you Dr. Laurie Montgomery?" the desk clerk asked before Laurie had a chance to say anything. His tone was exigent, immediately catching Laurie's attention.

"I am," Laurie responded with concern.

"You have several urgent messages. The caller has called three times, and I'm supposed to ask you to respond immediately."

Laurie took the messages with alarm.

"What is it?" Jack asked, with equivalent unease. He looked over her shoulder.

"It's Neil," Laurie said. She looked at Jack. "Do you think it could be about Jennifer?"

As Laurie got her mobile phone out of her bag, the group moved over to a sitting area overlooking the hotel's extensive grounds. Not knowing Neil's cell phone number, she called the Amal Palace Hotel and asked to be put through to Neil's room.

Neil picked up before the first ring had completed, as if he were hovering over the phone.

"Jennifer has been kidnapped," he blurted, even before he was sure it was Laurie.

"Oh, no!" Laurie cried. Hastily, she repeated the news for Jack's benefit.

"It must have been this morning when I was with you guys," Neil said. "When I came back, I thought she was sleeping. I didn't find out she wasn't here until almost six o'clock. I'm so angry with myself I could die."

Neil went on to tell the whole story, including how the missing safety chain was the only clue. That and the fact that nothing is missing from her room.

"Has there been any note? Any demands?" Laurie asked.

"Nothing," Neil admitted. "That's what scares me the most."

"Are the police involved?"

Neil laughed derisively. "They are involved, but a lot of good that's done."

"Why do you say that?"

"They refuse to fill out their First Information Report for twenty-four hours. And an FIR

has to be filled out before they do anything. It's like an Indian catch-twenty-two."

"Why won't they fill out an FIR?"

"Get this! They won't fill one out because they've had too much experience, especially with Americans, that whoever is missing, whether supposedly kidnapped or on their own, end up reappearing and all the work required to fill out the FIR is for naught. The lazy bastards are willing to give the kidnappers a twenty-four-hour free getaway time because the paperwork is too demanding. It makes me sick."

"How has the hotel been about it?"

"The hotel has been terrific. They are as upset as I am and have a whole private team on it. They're also busy watching all the security tapes they have for the lobby and the front entrance."

"Well, I hope to God they find something and find it soon," Laurie said. "I'm sorry we're not there."

"Me, too. I'm a wreck with worry."

"At least we got the urine samples we came for," Laurie said.

"I hope you're not too disappointed that at this point, I couldn't give a flying crap about the urine samples."

"I understand completely," Laurie added. "I feel the same. I just mentioned it because we'll be coming back to New Delhi first thing tomorrow morning, and we'll see if we can help you get the local police more involved. Wait, Jack wants to speak with you."

"Listen, Neil," Jack said when he got the phone. "What we have to do tomorrow is get ourselves over to the U.S. embassy and get in touch with one of the consular officers. He or she can then get us together with a regional security officer. They know how to deal with the local police. What you're dealing with is probably no more than a station house officer. What we're going to have to do is get the FBI invited to join in. The FBI's hands are tied until they are invited."

"When will you both get back here?"

"While you were talking to Laurie, I checked. The first flight leaves here at five-forty-five. We should be at the hotel before you're awake."

"Don't count on it. I'm not sure I'm going to sleep at all."

Jack gave the phone back to Laurie.

"I heard that," Laurie said. "You have to sleep. We'll get to the bottom of this. Don't you worry."

After saying good-bye, Laurie disconnected. She looked at Jack. "This is a major disaster."

"I'm afraid so," Jack agreed.

Chapter 37

OCTOBER 20, 2007

SATURDAY, 3:00 A.M.

NEW DELHI, INDIA

By three a.m. the bungalow was finally completely quiet. Only an hour earlier, Veena had heard the flat-screen TV in the living room, suggesting that someone couldn't sleep.

But whoever it had been had turned it off and had disappeared back to their room.

Avoiding turning on a light, Veena felt for the pillowcase full of clothes she'd put on her night table when she'd turned her lights off at midnight. When her hand touched it, she picked it up, then moved to her bedroom door. Luckily, Samira was spending the night with Durell. Samira had been one of her worries, and for the three hours Veena had lain awake in bed, every time she'd heard a noise she'd worried that it was Samira returning to spend the rest of the night in her own bed, across from Veena's.

Another worry was the key. If it wasn't where she hoped it was, all bets would be off.

Veena cracked her door. The house was silent and remarkably well illuminated from the nearly full fall moon. Moving silently, carrying her shoes in one hand and the pillowcase in the other, Veena moved from the guest wing, where the nurses' bedrooms were, into the main part of the house. She tried to stay in the shadows. When she neared the living room, she slowed and glanced in warily. She knew all too well that when you're living with sixteen people and five servants, you can run into someone in the public spaces at any given time, day or night.

The living room was empty. Encouraged, Veena silently raced down the carpeted hall to the library. Like the living room, the library was dark and empty. Without wasting a moment, Veena dashed to the fireplace. Putting down the pillowcase and her shoes, she took down the Indian-craft papier-mâché box. Since the top fit so snugly, it took a few minutes of effort to get it open enough for her to get her fingernails in the crack. When it did open, it made a popping sound loud enough to cause Veena to freeze. For several minutes she listened to the pulse of the house. It stayed normal.

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