complex, time-consuming, and very dicey at times. Normally he would have asked Kusum for only a fraction of that amount. But Kusum seemed quite willing and able to pay the full fee. And if Jack managed to bring back that necklace, it would be a bonafide miracle and he would deserve every penny of it.
'Sounds fair to me,' he said without missing a beat. '
4
Jack followed Kusum through the halls of St. Clare's until they came to a private room where a private-duty nurse hovered near the bed. The room was dark—curtains pulled, only a small lamp in a far corner throwing dim light across the bed. The lady under the covers was old. White hair framed a dark face that was a mass of wrinkles; gnarled hands clutched the sheet across her chest. Fear filled her eyes. Her ragged breathing and the hum of the blower by the window were the only sounds in the room.
Jack stood at the foot of the bed and felt the familiar tingle of rage spreading through his chest and limbs. With all he’d seen, all he’d done, he’d yet to learn how to keep from taking something like this personally. An old woman, helpless, beaten up. It made him want to break something.
'Ask her what he looked like.'
Kusum rattled off something in Indian from beside the head of the bed. The woman replied in kind, slowly, painfully, in a hoarse, rasping voice.
'She says he looked like you, but younger,' Kusum said, 'and with lighter hair.'
'Short or long?'
Another exchange, then: 'Short. Very short.'
'Anything else?'
As the woman replied, she raked the air with clawed fingers.
'His eyes,' Kusum said. 'She scratched him across his left eye before she was knocked unconscious.'
Good for you, Granny.
Jack smiled reassuringly at the old lady, then turned to Kusum.
'I'll see you out in the hall.'
He didn't want to talk in front of the private nurse.
As he stood outside the door, Jack glanced at the nurses' station and thought he saw a familiar face. He walked over for a closer look at the Junoesque blonde—every man's fantasy nurse—writing in a chart. Yes—it was Marta. They’d had a thing a few years back in the days before Gia.
She greeted him with a friendly kiss and a hug. They talked about old times for a while, then Jack asked her about Mrs. Bahkti.
'Fading fast,' Marta said. 'She's gotten visibly worse since I came on. She'll probably last out this shift, but I'll be surprised if she's here tomorrow. You know her?'
'I'll be doing some work for her grandson.'
As with most people Jack knew socially—and there weren't many—Marta was under the impression that he was a 'security consultant.'
He saw Kusum step out of the room.
'There he is now. See you later.'
Jack led Kusum to a window at the end of the hall where they were out of earshot of patients and hospital personnel.
'All right,' he told him. 'I'll give it a try. But I make no promises other than to do my best.'
Jack wanted to catch up with this creep.
Kusum exhaled and muttered what sounded like a small prayer.
'No more can be asked of any man. But if you cannot find the necklace by tomorrow morning, it will be too late. After that, the necklace will be of secondary importance. But I still want you to keep looking for the assailant. And when you find him, I want you to kill him.'
Jack tightened inside but smiled and shook his head. This guy thought he was some sort of hit man.
'I don't do that.'
Kusum's eyes said he didn't believe him.
'Very well. Instead, you will bring him to me and I will—'
'I will work for you until tomorrow morning,' Jack said. 'I'll give you my best shot till then. After that, you're on your own.'
Anger flitted across Kusum's face.
Definitely not used to having someone say no to you, are you?
'When will you start?'
'Tonight.'
Kusum reached inside his tunic and brought out a thick envelope. 'Here is half the payment. I will wait here with the other half should you return with the necklace.
Feeling more than a twinge of guilt at taking so much money on such a hopeless venture, Jack nevertheless folded the envelope and stuffed it in his left rear pocket.
