The Tomb (Repairman Jack)

Something he had seen on the floor there...

Yes! Here it was, near the hole in the floor, a shirt—the shirt Jack had been wearing when Kusum had last seen him. He picked it up. It was still damp with sweat.

He had planned to let Jack live, but all that was changed now. Kusum had known Jack was resourceful, but had never dreamed him capable of escaping through the midst of a nest of rakoshi. The man had gone too far tonight. And he was too dangerous to be allowed to roam free with what he knew.

Jack would have to die.

He could not deny a trace of regret in the decision, yet Kusum was sure Jack had good karma and would shortly be reincarnated into a life of quality.

A slow smile stretched Kusum' s thin lips as he hefted the sweaty shirt in his hand. The Mother rakosh would do it, and Kusum already had a plan for her. The irony of it was delicious.

16

'I have to wash up,' Jack said, indicating his injured hand as they entered his apartment. 'Come into the bathroom with me.'

Kolabati looked at him blankly. 'What?'

'Follow me.'

Wordlessly, she complied. As he began to wash the dirt and clotted blood from the gash, he watched her in the mirror over the sink. The merciless light of the bathroom made her face pale and haggard. His own looked ghoulish.

'Why would Kusum want to send his rakoshi after a little girl?'

She seemed to come out of her fugue. Her eyes cleared. 'A little girl?'

'Seven years old.'

Her hand covered her mouth. 'Is she a Westphalen?' she said between her fingers.

Jack stood numb and cold in the epiphany.

That's it! My God, that's the link! Nellie, Grace, and Vicky—all Westphalens!

'Yes.' He turned to face her. 'The last Westphalen in America, I believe. But why the Westphalens?'

Kolabati leaned against the sink and stared at the wall. She spoke slowly, carefully, as if measuring every word.

'A century and a half ago, Captain Sir Albert Westphalen pillaged a temple in the hills of northern Bengal—the temple I told you about last night. He murdered the high priest and priestess along with all their acolytes, and burned the temple to the ground. The jewels he stole became the basis of the Westphalen fortune.

'Before she died, the priestess laid a curse upon Westphalen, saying that his line would end in blood and pain at the hands of the rakoshi. The captain thought he’d killed everyone in .the temple but he was wrong. A child escaped the fire. The eldest son was mortally wounded, but before he died he made his younger brother vow to see that their mother's curse was carried out. A single female rakosh egg—you saw the shell in Kusum's apartment— was found in the caves beneath the ruins of the temple. That egg and the vow of vengeance have been handed down from generation to generation. It became a family ceremony. No one took it seriously—until Kusum.'

Jack stared at Kolabati in disbelief. She was telling him that Grace and Nellie's deaths and Vicky's danger were all the result of a family curse begun in India over a century ago. She was not looking at him. Was she telling the truth? Why not? It was far less fantastic than much of what had happened to him today.

'You've got to save that little girl,' Kolabati said, finally looking up and meeting his eyes.

'I already have.' He dried his hand and began rubbing some Neosporin ointment into the wound. 'Neither your brother nor his monsters will find her tonight. And by tomorrow he'll be gone.'

'What makes you think that?'

'You told me so an hour ago.'

She shook her head, very slowly, very definitely. 'Oh, no. He may leave without me, but he will never leave without that little Westphalen girl. And...' she paused.. . 'you've earned his undying enmity by freeing me from his ship.'

' 'Undying enmity' is a bit much, isn't it?'

'Not where Kusum is concerned.'

'What is it with your brother'?' Jack placed a couple of four-by-four gauze pads in his palm and began to wrap it with tape. 'I mean, didn't any of the previous generations try to kill off the Westphalens'?'

Kolabati shook her head. .

'What made Kusum decide to take it all so seriously?'

'Kusum has problems—'

'You're telling me!'

'You don't understand. When he was twenty he took a vow of Brahmacharya—a vow of lifelong chastity. He held to that vow and remained a steadfast Brahmachari for many years.' Her gaze wavered and wandered back to the wall. 'But then he broke that vow. To this day he's never forgiven himself. I told you the other night about his growing following of Hindu purists in India. Kusum doesn't feel he has a right to be their leader until he has purified his karma. Everything he has done here in New York has been to atone for desecrating his vow of Brahmacharya.'

Suddenly furious, Jack hurled the roll of adhesive tape against the wall.

'That's it? Kusum has killed Nellie and Grace and who knows how many winos, all because he got laid? Give me a break!'