He grinned and blinked, looked away at the lush trees above us. ABC Farms was a lovely place. A little oasis on the edge of Koregaon Park, not too far from the bustle of the city, yet it felt like the countryside or the jungle. Nothing but fields and the rough, withering last kilometers of North Main Road. On arrival, in fact, I’d had to navigate a herd of thirty or forty buffaloes moving slowly across the road at the urging of their driver.

“This is a nice spot,” he said. “A shame it will probably disappear one day. The lady told me someone bought the land across the road a little farther east. He’s going to put up a society with new flats.”

“With buffaloes roaming through their gardens? I don’t think that’ll ever happen.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

TUESDAY, AUGUST 12, 1975, 8:04 P.M.

“Danny Boy, how did you amuse yourself today?”

We were settling in for cocktails, Willy on the sofa next to Sushmita, who was looking bored and sad. I sat opposite them, wondering what I might do to cheer her up. But this wasn’t the time to lose concentration. Was Willy fishing? Trying to catch me in a lie? Maybe he’d had me followed.

“I took advantage of the nice weather and had a long walk on North Main Road. All the way to ABC Farms. Why haven’t we tried that Swiss place for dinner? I saw they had lights in the trees. Must be pretty at night.”

“The food is awful,” said Sushmita.

“I’m afraid Mita is right,” added Willy. “They’re trying to adapt Swiss food to the Indian palate. The result is a runny mess.”

With no plans to meet my handlers the following day, I thought I might chance an afternoon walk with Sushmita.

“Would you like to come with me tomorrow if it doesn’t rain?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “If I’m not busy.”

“That’s an excellent idea, Mita. Chhotu is coming back tomorrow afternoon. We’ll be working. You and Danny should go out. It will change your mood.”

“Zadya is coming back?” she snapped at him.

“No need to insult the man for his size,” said Willy, stiffening in his seat. “He has a glandular problem.”

Sushmita stood and challenged him from above. “He has an eating problem. And I can’t stand having him in this house.”

“It’s only for one night, Mita. Stop this nonsense. You’re making Danny uncomfortable.”

I wanted to object to his characterization of my comfort but, in truth, he was right. Not that Sushmita was making me uncomfortable, but the idea of—what had she called him?—Zadya coming back did.

“If you prefer Zadya’s company to mine, I’ll leave you to him. You can listen to his haw-haw accent to your heart’s content, but I won’t be here.”