The Tomb (Repairman Jack)

Jack shrugged. 'What's this got to do with Kolabati.'

'Nothing, Jack,' Kusum said.

He studied the American: a self-contained man, a rarity in this land. He does not need the adulation of his fellows to give him self-worth. He finds it within. I admire that. Kusum realized he was giving himself reasons why he should not make Jack a meal for the rakoshi.

'How'd you get my address?'

'Kolabati gave it to me.' In a sense this was true. He’d found Jack's address on a slip of paper on her bureau the other day.

'Then let's get to the subject of Kolabati, shall we?'

He detected an undercurrent of hostility running through Jack. Perhaps he resented being disturbed at his hour. No...Kusum sensed it was more than that. Had Kolabati told him something she shouldn't have? That idea disturbed him. He would have to be wary of what he said.

'Certainly. I had a long talk with my sister tonight and have convinced her that you are not right for her.'

'Interesting,' Jack said. A little smile played about his lips. What did he know? 'What arguments did you use?'

'Traditional ones. As you may or may not know, Kolabati and I are of the Brahmin caste. Do you know what that means?'

“No,”

'It is the highest caste. It is not fitting for her to consort with someone of a lower caste.'

'That's a little old-fashioned, isn't it?'

“Nothing that is of such vital concern to one's karma can be considered 'old-fashioned.' '

'I don't worry about karma,' Jack said.

Kusum allowed himself to smile. What ignorant children these Americans were.

'Your believing or not believing in karma has no effect on its existence, nor on its consequences to you. Just as a refusal to believe in the ocean would not prevent you from drowning.”

'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 a pistol appeared in his right, the bore of its silencer pointing directly between Kusum's eyes.

'Where is she?' Jack's voice was a whisper.

And in the eyes sighting down the barrel 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 bodies was always a problem.

And he still had 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 tonight 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.

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