Back Bombay Monsoon Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  4. PART ONE
  5. CHAPTER ONE
  6. CHAPTER TWO
  7. CHAPTER THREE
  8. CHAPTER FOUR
  9. CHAPTER FIVE
  10. CHAPTER SIX
  11. CHAPTER SEVEN
  12. CHAPTER EIGHT
  13. CHAPTER NINE
  14. CHAPTER TEN
  15. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  16. CHAPTER TWELVE
  17. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  18. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  19. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  20. PART TWO
  21. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  22. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  23. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  24. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  34. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  39. PART THREE
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  42. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  43. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  44. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  45. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  46. CHAPTER FORTY
  47. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
  48. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
  49. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
  50. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
  51. CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
  52. CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
  53. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
  54. CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
  55. CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
  56. CHAPTER FIFTY
  57. CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
  58. CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
  59. CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
  60. EPILOGUE
  61. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  62. BOOK CLUB DISCUSSION GUIDE

She shook her head. “There are so many pretty girls trying to get into films. And they’ll do anything to land a part. It’s not fair, really.”

I sympathized, handed her my card, and asked her to contact me if anything came up with Mukesh.

“But you’ll use my name in your article?” she asked. “Nothing negative. Only that I’m a pretty actress? With good English. Ready for American films.”

“Of course. And you’ll let me know if they release him. Or if they’ll permit visitors.”

She stared at my card, then asked if I knew Robert Redford.

Image

MONDAY, JULY 21, 1975, 7:46 P.M.

When I turned the key to unlock my door, it opened before I could lift the latch. Ramu—not Bikas—was there to greet me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“Good evening, sir,” he said in his old servant’s accent.

“Cut the crap, Ranjit,” I said, pushing past him. “What are you doing here? And who let you in?”

He shut the door behind me. “I made a copy of the key long ago. And you can call me Ranjit inside this flat but, for appearance’s sake, I’m Ramu outside. Your servant can’t suddenly change his name.”

“You’re fired,” I said. “Problem solved.”

“Come on, Dan. You can use the help. Or the company. Or the protection. At least until you decide your answer to our request.”

“I have decided. The answer is no. I don’t want anything to do with this operation. Willy Smets may well be the head of a drug cartel and a prostitution ring. But he’s always treated me right. I’m not a cop. That’s your job. You guys should do this, not ask me to be a snitch.”

Image

MONDAY, JULY 21, 1975, 10:10 P.M.

Ranjit and I relaxed on our respective sofas and toasted each other, me with my one-after-dinner Dewar’s, him with his juice. The Boy Scout didn’t drink liquor. The meal he’d prepared had been his best effort to date. A mushroom pulao and moong dal, flavored with garlic and onion, followed by an aloo gobi in gravy and bhindi, okra. A sliced-tomato-and-onion salad, and chutney rounded out the menu. Pure veg. Then, to show me what I’d be missing after I fired him, he brought out some kheer for dessert.

Damn Ranjit. Former army officer, current cop, climber of buildings, speaker of languages, and a chef who should open his own restaurant. He ironed a mean shirt, too. How the hell could a guy be so good at so many things?

“Where did you learn to cook?” I asked, staring up at the revolving ceiling fan. “Don’t tell me the army again, or I’m going to enlist.”

“From my mother. And at the CBI Academy in Ghaziabad,” he said. “And please take your feet off the table.”

“I’m sorry?” I said, sitting up to glare at him. “This is my house, you know.”