“Not only a bazaar but the bazaar. It is the most wonderful labyrinth of narrow galis and even more narrow katras where you can buy most anything and everything. The shops are tiny and owned by the merchants, so you must bargain. It is marvelous. I suggest you walk around the bazaar, shop if you are so inclined, and then walk here to a restaurant called Karim’s for lunch,” Sumit said, pointing at the map. “It’s the most authentic Mughlai restaurant in New Delhi.”

“Is it safe?” Jennifer asked. “I’d prefer not to get Delhi belly.”

“Very safe. I know the maître d’. I’ll call him and tell him you might be stopping in. If you do, ask for Amit Singh. He will take good care of you.”

“Thank you,” Jennifer said. “It sounds like a good plan.” She tried to fold the map into its original form.

Sumit took the map and expertly collapsed it. “May I ask how you plan to travel to Old Delhi?”

“I hadn’t gotten to that yet.”

“May I recommend using one of the hotel cars. We can arrange for an English-speaking driver, and the car will be air-conditioned. It is somewhat more expensive than a taxi, but the driver will stay with you, although not while you visit the monuments or the bazaar. Many of our female guests find it very convenient.”

Jennifer liked the idea immediately. Since the sightseeing outing might be her one and only, she thought she should do it properly, and for a babe-in-the-woods tourist, it might make the difference between enjoying herself or not. “You say it’s not much more than a taxi?” Jennifer asked, to be reassured.

“That’s correct if you are hiring the taxi by the hour. It’s a service for our hotel guests.”

“How do I make the arrangements? It’s not going to work for me unless there’s a car available now.”

Sumit pointed across the hotel’s main entrance to a desk similar to his. “That’s the transportation desk just opposite, and my colleague, attired similar to myself, is the transportation manager. I assure you he will be most helpful.”

Jennifer wove through the people coming in and going out of the hotel and approached the transportation desk. She was unaware of a balding, round-faced man behind her, more than three inches shorter than her, who stood up from a club chair in the center of the lobby and approached the concierges. But a few moments later she did happen to see him while the transportation manager finished up a phone conversation. She noticed him only because he was talking with one of the turbaned, towering doormen, and by comparison appeared considerably shorter than he actually was.

“May I help you?” the transportation manager said as he hung up his phone.