“I’ve kinda frustrated a couple of people, but not enough to want to kill me. At least I don’t think so.”
“Maybe it was a case of mistaken identity?”
Jennifer looked away, shook her head, and laughed humorlessly. “God, what I’ve been doing is certainly not worth getting killed for. No way. If it’s not a mistake then I’m outta here, Granny and all.”
“Are you certain there’s no one really, really angry at you?”
“My granny’s case manager, but it’s her freaking job. It’s not the kind of thing you kill someone over.”
“One way or the other, you are mighty lucky that plainclothes policeman was where he was.”
“You are so right,” Jennifer said. “Come on! Let’s go meet this guy. Maybe he’ll know something. Maybe he was even following the other guy. Now that they have the body, maybe they might know if he was following me or not. It’s worth a try to get some answers.”
Neil reached out and restrained Jennifer. “I don’t advise it.”
“Why not?” Jennifer said, pulling her arm free from Neil’s grasp.
“When I was here last for my medical meeting, I learned a lot about the Indian government and the Indian police from my hosts. It’s best, unless absolutely necessary, to stay clear of both. Corruption is a way of life here. It’s not viewed from the same moral perspective as it is in the West. Whenever you get involved, it costs you money. The CBI, which is the equivalent to our FBI, is supposed to be very different. But in this situation you’ll get yourself caught up with the regular local police. I’m not even certain they wouldn’t put you in jail for inciting someone to pull a gun.”
“Don’t be silly,” Jennifer said, thinking Neil was joking. She started walking back to where the episode occurred. “You’re exaggerating.”
“I’m exaggerating a little,” Neil admitted, catching up to Jennifer. “But the fact that the local police are corrupt to some degree is apparent to everyone in the know, trust me. Also, so are many of the civil servants for the most part. It’s best not to get involved. If you make any specific request about a crime, they have to fill out an FIR, or First Information Report, and, of course, it has to have five million copies. It makes work for them, and they hate it and hate you, too.”
“A man was killed. There needs to be an FIR.”
“Yeah, but that’s his FIR.”
“The more I think about it, he must have been after me in some form or fashion.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Neil said. “I’m telling you, you’re taking a risk. I was told under no uncertain terms not to get involved with the local police.”
It was hard to walk side by side in the crowd, especially as the crowd got more and more dense the closer they came to the scene. Neil let Jennifer go ahead. Suddenly, she stopped and turned around. “Wait a sec!” she said. “Although I’ve been blown over and distracted by this episode, let me ask you again: What in God’s name are you doing here in India? I mean, the question has popped into my mind several times, but this attempt on my life has tended to dominate my attention.”
“No doubt,” Neil said, trying to think what exactly to say at this point. If it hadn’t been for the excitement, he was going to come right out and apologize first thing. He shrugged, thinking,
“When did you get here?” Jennifer asked.
“Last night. I wasn’t going to disturb you if you were asleep. The problem is they wouldn’t even tell me your room number, so I couldn’t put my ear against your door.”
“Why didn’t you call me to let me know you were coming?”
“Easy,” Neil said with a short laugh of self-mockery. “I was afraid you’d tell me to turn around and go home. I mean, I wasn’t even confident you’d take my call, or if you did take it, knowing you as I do, I wasn’t sure you wouldn’t just tell me to drop dead and that would be that.”
“I might have,” Jennifer acknowledged. “I was more than disappointed at your response. I can tell you that.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t give the situation the significance it deserved at the time,” Neil said.
Jennifer was thoughtful for a moment, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Then she turned around again and pushed through the crowd. The cycle rickshaw was still lying on its side. The body was still there as well, uncovered. With the left side of the face gone and the teeth visible, it looked like it was grimacing.
“That’s the driver,” Jennifer whispered, motioning with her chin toward the emaciated cycle rickshaw driver squatting on the ground. There were several policemen in khaki uniforms standing on either side of him.
“See what I mean!” Neil whispered back. “The poor guy’s probably under arrest.”
“You really think so.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“It looks to me as if that short guy is in charge. What do you think?”
Naresh Prasad was talking to several other uniformed police officers standing near the body.
“He must be some kind of plainclothes detective or something.”
“You really think I shouldn’t talk to them?” Jennifer asked.
“Put it this way: What do you know? Nothing. You don’t even know if this guy followed you from the Amal Palace, or just saw you here and said there’s a millionaire Westerner.”
“Get out of here!” Jennifer said.
“There’s no way for you to know. That’s the point. They don’t know, either. If you insist on getting involved, you’re not going to learn anything and you’re not going to add anything, and it will possibly cost you some money. Besides, if you change your mind, you can tell them tomorrow, or this afternoon for that matter. No one is going to fault you for getting the hell out of here under the circumstances.”
“Alright,” Jennifer snapped. “You’ve talked me out of it, at least for now. Let’s get back to the hotel. I think I need a drink or something. I’m still shaking.”
“Good choice!” Neil commented. “What we can do is head over to the American embassy at some point either today or tomorrow and get their take. If they think you should file an FIR, we’ll do it, because then they will be involved and there won’t be any screwing around.”
“Fair enough,” Jennifer said.
The crowd near the killing blocked most of the galis. On one side, several policemen were keeping a narrow right-of-way open against the far wall. To create it, the police had required the local merchants to clear the street of merchandise. Jennifer and Neil again had to walk in single file.
As Jennifer passed, she looked back at the cycle rickshaw still lying on its side. She could see where in the street she’d fallen. She glanced briefly again at the driver. He’d not been allowed to move, which tended to give further credence to Neil’s point about not getting involved unless there was some compelling reason. Her eyes also briefly passed over the short plainclothes policeman as they came abreast of where he was standing, causing her to do a double take. The officer was looking at her.
For several beats Jennifer and Inspector Naresh Prasad’s eyes locked together before Jennifer self- consciously looked away.
“Don’t look now,” Jennifer said in a low voice over her shoulder at Neil, “but that short policeman was staring at me.”
“Let’s not get paranoid.”
“Really, he was. Do you think he recognizes me from being in the cycle rickshaw?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea. Stop and turn around. Let’s see what he does. I mean, if he recognizes you from being involved, we don’t have a lot of choice. We have to talk to him.”
Jennifer stopped but didn’t immediately turn around. “I feel nervous,” she said.
“Turn around!” Neil said under his hand to keep from being overheard. They were only about twenty feet from the policemen. If the bazaar hadn’t been quite so noisy, they might have been able to hear parts of the man’s conversation.
Taking a breath, Jennifer slowly turned. At that point it was not a clear line of sight between herself and Inspector Prasad. When she and Neil had abruptly stopped, they had blocked the right-of-way, and people trying to pass were backing up. Still, Jennifer could see the side of the policeman’s face, and if he turned his head only ninety
