“You son of a bitch, why would you bring me here?” I demanded. “To see this …” I could come up with no words to describe the place. Instead, I swore at him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! You sadistic shit! Why?”

Ranjit put a hand on my shoulder, and I wrenched myself from his grip. He tried again, and a third time.

“Why?” he repeated, glaring at me as the rain ran down my face, mingling with my tears of rage and sorrow. “Because the little girl up there …” He pointed to the brothel. “The terrified little bride we saw just now. She was sold to that pimp by Willy Smets.”

PART THREE

BETRAYAL

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

FRIDAY, AUGUST 1, 1975, 2:17 P.M.

We sat in a white Ambassador outside Victoria Terminus, Ranjit at the wheel, Harlan sitting beside him. I was in the back seat. Harlan turned to face me.

“You clear on what you’re going to do?” he asked.

“He knows I’m coming,” I answered. “Knows I got fired. That I want to ask him a favor.”

“Good. Think of this as an interview. He’s going to want to know you can do the job and that you can be trusted.”

I knew what that meant. No sleeping with Sushmita. Yet I realized I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if she was game. I didn’t tell Harlan that. Just as I hadn’t told him that my firing was a ruse cooked up by Frank Muller. I don’t know why I’d kept that detail to myself. Maybe because I wanted to hold at least one card in this game of poker. Everyone else had an advantage of some kind. Harlan and Ranjit had training, experience, and right on their side. And Willy had cunning, money, and a ruthless willingness to take what he wanted. Sushmita had her velvet-grip hold over me.

“Tell us you’re not going to spill any of this to her,” said Ranjit. “You may think you’re crazy in love, but she’s his girl. You don’t know how deep their roots go. You don’t know if you can trust her.”

“You’ve told me that a hundred times,” I said, resenting the lack of trust.

“And he’ll tell you a hundred more until it seeps into your skull,” said Harlan. “Listen, Dan, your neck’s more at risk than ours. You’ve got to show yourself as completely loyal to Smets or it won’t work. He’s got to believe you’d take a bullet for him.”

“I know, I know. I want to prove my worth. I’m sick of pushing a pencil for little money or recognition. I want to help him with his business.”

“Of which you know absolutely nothing,” prompted Harlan.

“It’s easy to slip,” said Ranjit. “All you know is that he’s in the import-export business, one hundred percent licit.”

“Got it.”