“And you say that because of your arguments about caste and karma, Kolabati was convinced that I am not good enough for her?”

“I did not wish to state it so bluntly. May I just say that I prevailed upon her not to see or even speak to you ever again.” He felt a warm glow begin within him. “She belongs to India. India belongs to her. She is eternal, like India. In many ways, she is India.”

“Yeah,” Jack said as he reached out with his left hand and placed the phone in his lap. “She’s a good kid.” Cradling the receiver between his jaw and his left shoulder, he dialed with his left hand. His right hand rested quietly on his thigh. Why wasn’t he using it?

“Let’s call her and see what she says.”

“Oh, she’s not there,” Kusum said quickly. “She has packed her things and started back to Washington.”

Jack held the phone against his ear for a long time. Long enough for at least twenty rings. Finally, he replaced the receiver in its cradle with his left hand—

—and suddenly there was a pistol in his right hand, the large bore of its barrel pointing directly between Kusum’s eyes.

“Where is she?” Jack’s voice was a whisper. And in the eyes sighting down the barrel of that pistol Kusum saw his own death—the man holding the gun was quite willing and even anxious to pull the trigger.

Kusum’s heart hammered in his throat. Not now! I can’t die now! I’ve too much still to do!

11

Jack saw the fear spring onto Kusum’s face. Good! Let the bastard squirm. Give him a tiny taste of what Grace and Nellie must have felt before they died.

It was all Jack could do to keep from pulling the trigger. Practical considerations held him back. Not that anyone would hear the silenced shot; and the possibility that anyone knew Kusum had come here was remote. But disposing of the body would be a problem.

And there was still Kolabati to worry about. What had happened to her? Kusum seemed to care too much for his sister to harm her, but any man who could lead a ceremony like the one Jack had seen on that hellship was capable of anything.

“Where is she?” he repeated.

“Out of harm’s way, I assure you,” Kusum said in measured tones. “And out of yours.” A muscle throbbed in his cheek, as if someone were tapping insistently against the inside of his face.

“Where?”

“Safe… as long as I am well and able to return to her.”

Jack didn’t know how much of that to believe, and yet he dared not take it too lightly.

Kusum stood up.

Jack kept the pistol trained on his face. “Stay where you are!”

“I have to go now.”

Kusum turned his back and walked to the door. Jack had to admit the bastard had nerve. He paused there and faced Jack. “But I want to tell you one more thing: I spared your life tonight.”