“Let me run upstairs and find out what’s going on,” Arun said.
“While Arun’s doing that, why don’t we go up and have a bite to eat in the coffee shop?” Laurie suggested. “Depending on what he finds out, there might not be another chance.”
“Good idea,” Arun said. “I’ll meet you in there.”
It took Arun a little longer than he expected, but he also found out more than he had anticipated. By the time he entered the coffee shop, the others already had their sandwiches. The moment he sat down, the waitress appeared at his side. He ordered a sandwich as well.
As soon as the waitress left, he leaned forward over the table. The others leaned in as well. “This is incredible,” he said in a low voice, making certain no one else could hear. He looked from one to the other. “First of all, the hospital is furious that Maria Hernandez is gone. They are so furious, that the old man downstairs has been fired.”
“Damn,” Jack voiced. “I was afraid of that.”
“They are also sure that the medical examiners from New York City stole it. Curiously, though, they haven’t filed an FIR against you guys.”
“What’s an FIR?” Laurie asked.
“It’s a First Information Report,” Arun explained. “It’s the first thing that must be done if you want the police to do something. But the police hate to file them because it means work.”
“Who are you getting this from?” Jack asked.
“I’m getting it from the hospital CEO,” Arun said. “His name is Rajish Bhurgava. We are reasonably good friends. I’ve known him from our school days.”
“If they know we took the body, why aren’t they filing the FIR?” Laurie asked.
“I’m not sure I understand, but he said it had something to do with someone very high in the health ministry, a man by the name of Ramesh Srivastava, who’d ordered him not to file. It has to do with fear of the media.”
Laurie, Jack, and Neil shared a sustained glance to see if anyone wanted to respond to what Arun had said. Laurie was the only one who spoke up. “Maybe this Ramesh is on the trail of the healthcare serial killer and is afraid of the media alerting him or her too soon in the investigation.”
Jacked looked askance at Laurie.
“Well, it’s just a guess,” Laurie offered.
“Let’s go on to the next, more important, part,” Arun said. “Both Benfatti and the body from the Aesculapian Medical Center hospital, Lucas, have been removed by a magistrate’s writ that gives the hospitals the right not only to get them out of the hospital but also to dispose of them as a public nuisance and public danger. But the weirdest part is that they have somehow arranged to have them cremated at the main burning ghat of Varanasi.”
“I’ve heard this word
“In this sense, it means stone steps on a riverbank,” Arun said. “But it also means a hilly range of mountains.”
“We’re aware of this Varanasi plan,” Laurie said. “The hope is that it is special enough to placate the involved families. But I can tell you it didn’t have that effect when it was originally offered, at least with two of the families.”
“So where is Varanasi from here?” Jacked asked.
“It is southeast of Delhi, about halfway to Kolkata,” Arun said.
“How far?”
“Four to five hundred miles,” Arun said. “But it’s all by major highway.”
“Would the bodies going by truck?” Jack asked.
“For sure,” Arun said. “It’ll only take eleven and a half hours or so. They will most likely be cremated late tonight or early in the morning. The burning ghats go twenty-four hours a day. But I have to say, it is unusual. Being cremated at Varanasi is generally limited to Hindus. For them, it is exceptionally good karma. If Hindus die in Varanasi and are cremated there, they immediately achieve
“They must have bribed someone,” Laurie suggested.
“Without doubt,” Arun said. “They would have to have bribed one of the leading Doms for certain. The Doms are the caste that has exclusive rights over the cremation ghats. Or maybe they bribed one of the Hindu Brahmins. The hospitals would have had to bribe one or the other, or both.”
“What’s the city like?” Jack asked.
“It’s one of the most interesting in India,” Arun said. “It is the oldest continuously occupied city in the entire world. Some believe people have been living there for five thousand years. For Hindus, it is the holiest of cities, and especially auspicious for rites of passage, like childhood milestones, marriages, and death.”
“What would be the chances of us meeting up with the two corpses if we were to fly to Varanasi?” Jack asked.
“Now, that’s a question I can’t answer,” Arun said. “I guess reasonably well, especially if you would be willing to spread around a few additional bribes.”
“What do you think?” Jack asked Laurie. “It would be good to get at least urine samples, even if we can’t do full autopsies.”
“Are there flights to Varanasi?” Laurie asked Arun. The idea of a nearly twelve-hour journey was hardly enticing.
“There are, but I have no idea when they leave. Let me check.”
While Arun was making his call, Laurie turned to Neil. “Under normal circumstances, we’d ask if you guys wanted to come. But I still think it best Jennifer stays in the hotel.”
“I agree,” Neil said.
Arun flipped the phone closed. “Several flights have already gone. The last flight is at two-forty-five.”
Both Laurie and Jack checked their watches. It was twelve-forty-five. “That’s only two hours. Could we make it?” Laurie asked.
“I think so,” Arun said, “if we hurry.”
“Are you coming?” Laurie asked Arun, as she stood and tossed her napkin on the remains of her sandwich. She also put out more cash than necessary for the lunch.
“I’m having more fun than I’ve had in years,” Arun said. “I wouldn’t miss it.” As he stood up, he reopened his phone and reconnected with his travel agent. “Thanks for the sandwich,” he mentioned to Laurie while his call went through. As they walked to the elevator, he gave instructions to get them three business-class tickets on the flight to Varanasi and two rooms at the Taj Ganges. He gave Jack’s and Laurie’s names.
When they got to the van, Arun had just finished the arrangement and said he’d meet Jack and Laurie at the Indian Airlines counter at the domestic airport. Then he rushed off to his car.
Jack, Laurie, and Neil piled into the van, Jack behind the wheel. He even left a little rubber in the Queen Victoria driveway, but the rapid driving stopped abruptly at the street. They had forgotten the noontime traffic.
“When we get to the hotel, I’ve got to take the time to give myself the HCG trigger shot,” Laurie said. She was sitting in the front passenger seat.
“Oh, right,” Jack responded. “It’s good you remembered. I’d totally forgotten.”
“You’d also better remember to take along these syringes here on the backseat,” Neil said. The bag with the sterile syringes was next to him, wedged between the seat and the seat back.
“Good point,” Laurie said. “I might have forgotten them, which would have left us high and dry. Hand them up here!”
Neil passed the bag to Laurie.
“Sorry you and Jennifer can’t come with us,” Laurie said over her shoulder.
“That’s okay. I’ll use the afternoon to start looking into booking our return flights. I think the sooner Jennifer is out of here, the better.”
“Have her decide on what to do with her grandmother right away,” Laurie said. “And then call over to the Gangamurthy Medical College and get it arranged.”
“She’s pretty well decided on cremation, so we’ll do that right away.”
With Jack and Laurie keyed up about their upcoming trip, conversation lapsed for the twenty minutes it took to get back to their hotel. Even when they arrived, they didn’t speak as they hurried into the lobby.
“You head upstairs,” Jack said to Laurie. “I’ll arrange transportation to the airport, then be up.”
