“Then do it! That’s my advice. Handling the arrangements for the grandmother’s body will probably take all of a half-hour, and it’s over. Then you guys can make up. That way you won’t be burning bridges over this affair.”
“So you think I should go?”
“Absolutely. And you told me you found India fun, so you can kill two birds with one stone.”
“I told you it was interesting.”
“Interesting or fun, what’s the difference? As far as your responsibilities here are concerned, don’t worry about it.”
“I do have the next four days off.”
“See what I mean. It was meant to happen. Go! As far as your obligations here are concerned, after your four days, don’t worry about it. I owe you. I’ll cover for you, and when I can’t, I’ll see that someone else does.”
“I’ll certainly need more than four days. The travel alone takes four days.”
“Don’t worry about it. Okay? I said I’d cover. Do you know where she’s staying?”
“I do.”
“That’s all you need. When will you leave?”
“Tomorrow, I guess,” Neil said, wondering if he’d allowed his friend to talk him into something that might end up being more complicated and more stressful than he’d anticipated.
If he only knew ...
Chapter 8
OCTOBER 16, 2007
TUESDAY, 7:45 P.M.
NEW DELHI, INDIA
By reflex Samira Patel smiled coyly at the two tall Sikh doormen at the Queen Victoria Hospital’s front entrance. She was dressed in her nurse’s uniform, just as Veena had been the night before. They did not return her flirtatiousness. But there was no doubt they recognized her. Each silently reached out and pulled open his respective door and, with a bow, allowed her to enter.
Durell had coached her for several hours that afternoon before Samira had set out on her mission, which had included what to do once she was inside the hospital. Despite her excitement, she followed the suggestions to the letter. She marched across the lobby, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Instead of the elevator, she took the stairs up to the second floor, where the library was located. After turning on the lights, she got down from the shelves several orthopedic books and spread them out on one of the tables, even opening one to the section on knee replacement, which was the procedure her patient, Herbert Benfatti, had had that morning. All this was Durell’s idea. He wanted her to have a clear, confirmable explanation for being at the hospital after hours if one of the more senior nurses questioned it.
Once the library was prepared to her liking and she’d downloaded Benfatti’s chart from the library’s workstation onto a USB storage device, she returned to the stairwell and climbed up to the fifth floor, where the OR suite was located. By now her excitement had built to the point of true anxiety, even more than she had expected, and it caused her to question why she’d been so eager to volunteer. At the same time, she knew exactly why she’d volunteered. Although Veena Chandra had been her best friend since they’d met each other in the third grade, Samira had always felt inferior. The problem was that Samira envied Veena’s beauty, which Samira knew she could not compete against, ergo her wish to compete in every other way. Samira was convinced Veena’s hair was darker and shinier than hers, and Veena’s skin more golden, her nose smaller and shapelier.