Then I described Freak Street. The foreign hippies and the smell of hash in the air. The mix of interest in Eastern religion, drugs, and body odor. I was fairly certain those Western kids were missing the mark with their Hare Krishna and beards and hash.

“What was the man’s name?” Ranjit asked.

“Dhonu.”

“Anything else about him?”

“Only that his shop was called the Wicked Walrus. He was skinny. And ugly. He had brown teeth.”

“Does he work with Smets regularly?”

“Not sure. I overheard Willy and Chhotu talking about the king once. The guy in the head shop called himself the king.”

“The name Dhonu means ‘king.’ So how did he react to you?”

“He wanted to know who I was, then accepted me no questions asked when I said Willy’d sent me.”

“And you’re sure there was only underwear in the valise?”

“Saw it myself. I’m convinced this was a dry run. He wanted to see how I handled things. Customs, the long day, short connections between flights. It felt like he was putting hurdles in my way to see if I could jump over them.”

Ranjit gave my story some thought. “Yes, it sounds like a test. Do you think Smets has something more for you to do?”

“Why else would he send me at great expense to deliver eleven brassieres to someone in Nepal?”

“So did you pass?”

“I think so. I even saved him the money he’d given me for a hotel in Kathmandu. Flew back to Bombay and took the train first thing in the morning. He seemed to like that.”

Ranjit took a sip of his juice and batted away a fly. “There’s no law against sending eleven brassieres to a chap in Nepal. You’ve got to convince him to give you something real to do.”

“I’ll get right on that, shall I?”

“What about the ladki?”

“The what?”

“The girl. Can you trust her not to lose her head and give you two away?”

The blonde lady returned with my club soda and the bill. I waited till she’d gone to tell Ranjit he had nothing to worry about on that score.

“Sushmita’s the one who should be working for you guys,” I said. “Ice water in her veins.”

“You’re sure she’s not toying with you?”

I sighed. “Look, I don’t expect you to understand. You don’t know her. And you don’t know me. So you don’t know how goddamn insulting your attitude can be sometimes.”