We pulled to a stop at Flora Fountain and waited for the light to change. “No issues,” she said. “I told him I was going out of station.”

Had she actually called me darling?

“I’m not tired,” she told me as she set the parking break and removed the gearshift. “Take me to the permit room at the President.”

I consulted my watch. It was after midnight. “It’s closed by now.” I paused, then figured why not. I called her “Sush.”

She didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she informed me I wasn’t going to abandon her so early when she had no other options.

“I have some chakli upstairs,” I said.

“Chakli? Oh my. However do the girls resist you?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

SUNDAY, JULY 6, 1975, 12:12 A.M.

“Do you have some music?” she asked hopefully. I shook my head. “Never mind. Any juice?”

“Afraid not.” I made a mental note to get some the next day.

“How about AC? Can we at least be cool?”

I felt like a pauper. I could offer nothing that she wanted.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Maybe you’ll want to call it a night.”

“What rubbish. It’s early, Danny darling. Come on. I’ve got food, wine, whisky, and AC upstairs.”

I wasn’t sure how wise it was to take the lift up to the penthouse. The staff probably loved to gossip about the residents, especially the Indian woman living with a gora. And I was a gora, too. Just not hers. But Sushmita was indifferent to the risks. In fact, she didn’t even acknowledge the liftman. As if he didn’t exist.

On the fifteenth floor, she dug into her bag and retrieved the latchkey. But before she could insert it into the lock, the door swung open.

“Danny Boy!” Jesus Christ, it was Willy. He was dressed in his Indian pajama. “I was hoping I’d be awake when you returned. Sandip said you went to Bombay Gym. I thought you hated that place, Mita.”

“I do,” she answered, kissing him on the cheek. “But Danny was lonely, so I accepted his pitiful invitation.”

She was a cool one. Me? I was sweating under a crumbling façade of smiles. I tried to bid them good night and retreat to my flat before Willy could decide he suspected something.

“Going to bed?” he asked. “Nonsense. Come in, Danny Boy, and have a drink with me. I’ve been on the road, driving in this infernal rain for six hours. I need some company.”

“Come, Danny,” said Sushmita. “I told you Willy would want a drink with you. Don’t disappoint him.”

“Six hours in the car?” I asked, once we were seated in the drawing room. Sushmita had disappeared down the corridor. “Where were you coming from?”