We were on the main road now. Ranjit was pushing the bouncing Jeep as fast as he could toward Lonavala and the Bombay-Poona Road. Birgit twisted in her seat to face me.

“We followed you on the train, of course,” she said. “I was in the car behind yours. Ranjit was six seats behind you.”

“Why?”

She mugged a sarcastic pout as a reply. Then she said they’d been following me for weeks without my knowledge. Since Poona. And they hadn’t stopped when I’d returned to Bombay.

“What is this place, anyway?” she asked.

“It’s Sushmita’s,” I said as sheepishly as I could and still be heard over the roar of the engine, the tires on the wet road, and the rain.

“You mean Smets’s place, don’t you?”

What an idiot I’d been. Of course it was Willy’s. All the property was his. I’d believed whatever Sushmita had told me without question.

“She said it was hers. That Willy didn’t even know about it.”

Birgit shook her head in disgust and turned back around to face the road. Ranjit glared in the rearview mirror and caught my eye. He was pissed off.

“Did you see which way they went? Poona or Bombay?” I asked, trying to shift attention back to the problem at hand, finding Willy and Chhotu.

Birgit turned to face me again. “Of course we didn’t, Danny. We were busy following you.”

“But why didn’t you go after them when they drove away?”

“Danny, use your head. We came here on a train, not in a car. We had to follow you in a taxi from the station to see where you were going. Once we knew where you were, I kept watch on the house while Ranjit doubled back to get a car from the police. As soon as he returned, I jumped in and we came to get you.”

“Okay,” I said. “Ranjit, did you see a car on the road? There are three of them inside. They left not five minutes before you got here.”

“I saw one car,” he shouted. “An Ambassador. Couldn’t tell the color in the dark. But I don’t know if they turned toward Poona or Bombay after that.”

“It’s a blue Ambassador,” I said, hoping it helped. Probably didn’t.

A few minutes later, we reached the junction with the Bombay-Poona Road. Ranjit skidded to a bumpy stop and looked both ways, debating which direction to take.

“Did they give you any idea where they were going?” he asked. The wipers sloshed back and forth across the windscreen.

“No. Nothing.”

Ranjit shifted into gear and headed toward Poona.

“Wait!” I called. “Chhotu kept insisting it was getting late. Over and over. Willy said there was time. It was as if they had a train to catch. Or a plane or a boat.”