The first girl I’d ever slept with had told me I was so dense I needed a ton of bricks to fall on my head to get the message. Then she’d pulled her sweater over her head and wrapped me in a sloppy kiss.

CHAPTER SIX

FRIDAY, JUNE 27, 1975, 2:09 P.M.

On my morning run to Marine Drive and back, I’d seen people heading to work. At least the ones who hadn’t been arrested. The buses and trains were running again. But life in the city was tense.

New York was happy with the job we’d done in the difficult circumstances the day before. They weren’t at all concerned about the lost airfare. It was a good call to try for the JP interview. That made Frank Muller happy, which was good for me.

I was working the phones, prevailing on the few reporters and politicians I’d met in my six weeks in India, asking for information. I talked to two Congress Party MLAs, state assemblymen. They had nothing to say except that Mrs. Gandhi had taken the correct action to prevent further “internal disturbances” harmful to the security of the nation. Both used the same words.

“I’m patching a call through to you,” said Padma, our receptionist.

“It’s Jeetu,” came the voice from the other end. “Don’t say my name. I’m phoning to tell you to keep our meeting a secret. You don’t even know me if anyone asks.”

“What? Why?”

“Yaar, do I have to paint a picture for you? They’ve arrested JP Narayan and my cousin. If they connect them to me through you, they’ll come for both of us.”

“Okay,” I said. “Got it.”

“Get rid of my number. And if you noted our meeting in your appointment book, tear out the page.”

He rang off without saying goodbye. I replaced the receiver and went straight to my appointment book. I tore up the page in question, then went back through my notes and carbon copies, looking for any mention of Jeetu, Jithender, or Cream Centre.

Jeetu’s call spooked me. Triggered my paranoia about other things besides our meeting. I remembered my roll of film. The one with Bikas the bomber on it. I still hadn’t found an acceptable hiding place for it. There was the safe in the office, but I hadn’t even told Frank about the story yet. He’d only chew me out for yet another bad decision, so I decided to sit on the film a little longer. The Emergency was the only news New York was interested in anyway.