12.1

The late afternoons were beautiful in Mumbai at this time of year, soft and warm. Julia relaxed with a luxurious massage. She loved the moisture of it, the deep lustre it put on her skin. It made her think of pleasure…

Could Buck really be a cold-blooded killer? He seemed such a nice, normal, English chap. But then again, you never really know… with men. She’d known nice guys who’d turned out to be rotten to the core.

But back to… sex.

The thrill of it focused her mind.

She dialled the number, room 665 – Buck’s prison.

“Yes?”

She could hear the apprehension in his voice.

“Buck?”

“Julia… thank God it’s only you.”

This wasn’t quite the welcome she’d expected.

“I didn’t know you were a sniper,” she said, peeved.

“I’m not!”

“That’s not what he seems to think.”

“Yes but… Marlon’s mad! He’s on a personal crusade! He can’t authorize a DKO! Nor can his glorious Committee!”

“I know… what’s going on?

“Well… It’s all happening behind the scene. Don’t worry – my people are trying to contain him.”

“Who – the Committee?”

“No, no – my people.”

“Mmm.”

“The silly old bugger wants to completely wipe out any hope for the infidel sadhu! The problem is… he expects me to do it for him! I should have said – “Well Marlon, if you feel so strongly about it why not kill him yourself!” But I’m glad I didn’t. He probably would have gone straight over the road and done it on the spot! What we have here… is an ego out of control.”

Buck laughed – loudly, genuinely. This was something she liked about Buck, this tendency to inappropriate bursts of laughter. Buck was the kind of man who’d be laughing on the gallows.

“I can’t believe that it was you, Julia, who got him over here.”

“Wait a minute! I’m not taking responsibility for Marlon! Singh wouldn’t deal with anyone else! I had no choice! I could say the same thing about you. Look at the way you two suddenly appeared on the plane. What was I supposed to think? I thought you were his man – his go for.”