“Who should call whom in the morning?” Neil asked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Any vague thoughts of possible intimacy had vaporized the moment she said she hoped he was not expecting to come into her room.
“Why don’t we set a time?” Jennifer said. “How about we meet down in the breakfast room at nine?”
“Sounds good,” Neil said. He was about to leave when Jennifer launched herself at him, enveloping him in a sustained hug.
“Actually,” Jennifer said, with her head buried against his chest, “I really do appreciate that you’re here. I’m just afraid to show it for fear of being disappointed. I’m sorry I’m so skeptical.” With that she pulled away, gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and then disappeared into her room.
For a second Neil stood there, caught off guard by her actions. As he had said, there were always surprises.
Chapter 30
OCTOBER 19, 2007
FRIDAY, 7:45 A.M.
NEW DELHI, INDIA
Inspector Naresh Prasad drove up the Amal Palace Hotel ramp. While he did so he checked his watch. It was earlier than his arrival was yesterday, although not as early as he had been shooting for. He’d conveniently forgotten that the rush-hour traffic Friday morning was always a little worse than it was on other days, and it had taken him longer to get to his office and from his office to the hotel than he’d planned.
The head Sikh doorman recognized him, and he pointed with his stack of parking tags to the same spot Naresh had used the day before. Naresh drove through the porte cochere, angled around it, and parked. He waved to the doorman as he walked into the hotel. The doorman saluted in return.
“Back again, Inspector!” Sumit said cheerfully as Naresh approached the concierge desk.
“I’m afraid so,” Naresh admitted irritably. In truth, Naresh was not happy with his assignment. Just like yesterday, which led to a disaster, his instructions were hopelessly vague. What did it really mean to keep tabs on Jennifer Hernandez? It was kind of like babysitting. And the more Naresh thought about yesterday’s calamity, the more convinced he was that the fault lay squarely on Ramesh’s shoulders.
“You’re in luck today,” Sumit said. “I have yet to see Miss Hernandez, although I did see her companion.”
“Is he staying here as well?”
“Absolutely.”
“What is his name?”
“Neil McCulgan.”
“Are they staying in the same room?”
“No, separate rooms.”
“Did he go out already?”
“No. He was in exercise clothes. He’s down in the spa.”
“I believe Miss Hernandez spotted me yesterday, so I think I’ll have to wait in the car.”
“Very good,” Sumit said. “We will try our best to keep you informed.”
“Thank you,” Naresh said. “Meanwhile, I’d appreciate if you brought me some tea.”
“Of course. Coming right up.”
“It’s a travesty that the Indian civil service can sleep in their beds at night and allow those children to beg in the streets,” Laurie said indignantly, as she and Jack entered the Queen Victoria Hospital. She had been incensed by the plight of the children on the ride over to the hospital. Remembering her hormonal sensitivity, Jack had been careful to agree wholeheartedly with her response.
“What do you think of this hospital?” Jack asked, trying to get her to change the subject.
Laurie looked around the large sumptuous lobby with its modern furniture and marble floor. “It’s very attractive.” She looked into the coffee shop. “Very attractive indeed.”
“Here’s the deal,” Jack said. “While you head up to your appointment with Dr. Ram, I’m going to check out Maria Hernandez’s body.”
“You’re not coming up to see the ultrasound?” Laurie asked plaintively. “You’ve never seen it.”
“I’ll be there,” Jack assured her. “I just want to check out the body so we’ll know what we’re dealing with. Then I’ll be up to see the ultrasound. I promise.”
Reluctantly, Laurie let Jack go to the elevators while she approached the busy hospital front desk.
Jack was very impressed with the hospital. From his perspective it was not only modern but constructed with great care and with superior materials. It was obvious no money had been spared when the hospital had been designed. As he waited for the elevator, he noticed that the nurses were dressed in old-fashioned white uniforms, complete with hats. There was something nostalgic about it. Since most people were going up in the elevators, Jack had a car to himself going down.
Emerging onto the basement level, Jack walked down the hall and peered into the modern cafeteria. There was a handful of doctors and nurses having coffee. No one paid him any heed. Backtracking toward the elevators, Jack opened the first of two walk-in coolers. There were no bodies. Closing the heavy door, he stepped on to the next. The fairly ripe aroma told him he was in the right place.
There were two gurneys and two bodies, both covered with sheets. Luckily, the temperature was fairly cold —Jack guessed just about freezing. Grasping the edge of the sheet on the first gurney, he flipped it back. The patient was an obese man who appeared to be in his mid-fifties. Jack assumed it was Herbert Benfatti.
After re-covering Benfatti, Jack moved to the second gurney. He pulled back the sheet and found himself staring at Maria Hernandez. Her broad, full face had collapsed somewhat, pulling her mouth down in a grimace. Her color was a mottled greenish-bluish gray. Pulling the sheet down more, Jack could see that she was still wearing her patient’s johnny. Even her IV was still in place. Jack returned the sheet back over her. For a minute he pondered how to handle the situation. As far as he was concerned, he didn’t feel he had a lot of choice.
Returning to the door, Jack stepped back outside. He looked down the long corridor and saw a guard in an oversized baggy uniform sitting in a chair next to a pair of double doors he was ostensibly guarding. Without hurrying, Jack walked down to the elderly man, who’d watched him approach but otherwise didn’t move.
“Hello,” Jack said with an insouciant smile. “I’m Dr. Stapleton.”
“Yes, Doctor,” the aged guard said. Except for his eyes, he was motionless. He was like a statue until Jack caught a partially suppressed pill-rolling tremor. Jack surmised the man had Parkinson’s disease.
Jack pushed through the doors and stepped out onto the loading dock. There was one van in the small parking area. On its side in careful lettering it said
Back on the elevator, Jack pressed the button for floor four. He wasn’t particularly choosy; he just wanted a patient floor, and when the door opened, he knew he’d chosen wisely. He walked over to the busy central desk. The first wave of patients had been sent up to surgery a little more than an hour earlier, and the second wave was being readied. It was mild pandemonium.
“Excuse me,” Jack said to the harried ward clerk. “I need a wheelchair for my mother.”
“The closet next to the elevators,” the clerk said, pointing with the pen in his hand.
Without hurrying, Jack went to the designated closet and wheeled out one of the chairs. It had a waffle- weave blanket folded on its seat, which he left in place. He took the chair to the elevators and brought it down to the basement. Once there, he wheeled it into the cooler with the two bodies and left it.
Returning to the front door of the hospital on the lobby level, Jack walked out into the parking area, climbed into the van that the Amal Palace Hotel concierge had arranged, and drove it around the back of the hospital and
