His expression remained bland. 'Too bad. I could have had it analyzed and perhaps we could learn who is perpetrating this hoax. I want to know that before I do another thing.'
'Why would someone go to all the trouble?'
His gaze penetrated her. 'A political enemy, perhaps. One who has uncovered our secret.'
Kolabati felt the clutch of fear at her throat. She shook it off. Absurd! Kusum was behind it all. She was sure of it. But for a moment there he almost had her believing him.
'That isn't possible!'
He pointed to the bottle in her hand. 'A few moments ago I would have said the same about that.'
Kolabati continued to play along. 'What do we do?'
'We find out who is behind this.' He started for the door. 'And I will begin right now.'
'I'll come with you.'
He paused. 'No. You'd better wait here. I'm expecting an important call on Consulate business. That is why I came home. You must wait here and take the message for me.'
'All right. But won't you need me?'
'If I do, I will call you. And do not follow me—you know what happened last time.'
Kolabati allowed him to leave. She watched through the peephole in the apartment door until he entered the elevator. As soon as the doors slid closed behind him, she ran into the hall and pressed the button for the second elevator. It opened a moment later and took her down to the lobby in time to see Kusum stroll out the front entrance of the building.
This will be easy, she thought. She should have no problem tailing a tall, slender, one-armed Indian through midtown Manhattan.
Excitement spurred her on. At last she would find where Kusum spent his time. And there, she was quite sure, she would find what should not be. She still did not see how it was possible, but all the evidence pointed to the existence of rakoshi in New York. And despite all his protests to the contrary, Kusum was involved.
Staying half a block behind, she followed him down Fifth Avenue to Central Park South with no trouble. The going became rougher after that. Sunday shoppers were out in force and the sidewalks became congested, Still she managed to keep him in view until he entered Rockefeller Plaza. She’d been here once in the winter when the area had been mobbed with ice skaters and Christmas shoppers wandering about the huge Christmas tree. Today there was a different kind of crowd, but no less dense. A jazz group was playing imitation Coltrane and every few feet men with pushcarts sold fruit, candy, or balloons. Instead of ice skating, people were milling about or taking the sun with their shirts off.
Kusum was nowhere to be seen.
Kolabati frantically pushed her way through the crowd. She circled the dry, sun-drenched ice rink. Kusum was gone. He must have spotted her and ducked into a cab or down a subway entrance.
She stood amid the happy, carefree crowd, biting her lower lip, so frustrated she wanted to cry.
6
Gia picked up the phone on the third ring. A soft, accented voice asked to speak to Mrs. Paton.
'Who shall I say is calling?'
'Kusum Bahkti.'
She thought the voice sounded familiar. 'Oh, Mr. Bahkti. This is Gia DiLauro. We met last night'
'Miss DiLauro—a pleasure to speak to you again. May I say you looked very beautiful last night.'
'Yes, you may. As often as you wish.' As he laughed politely, Gia said, 'Wait a second and I'll get Nellie.'
Gia was in the third floor hall. Nellie was downstairs in the library watching one of those public affairs panels that dominate Sunday television. Shouting down to her seemed more appropriate to a tenement than a Sutton Square townhouse. Especially when an Indian diplomat was on the phone. So Gia hurried down to the first floor.
As she descended the stairs she told herself that Mr. Bahkti was a good lesson on not trusting one's first impressions. She had disliked him immediately, yet he’d turned out to be quite a nice man. She smiled grimly. No one should count on her as much of a judge of character. She’d thought Richard Westphalen charming enough to marry, and look how he’d turned out. And after that there had been Jack. Not an impressive track record.
Nellie took the call from her seat in front of the TV. As the older woman spoke to Mr. Bahkti, Gia turned her attention to the screen where the Secretary of State was being grilled by a panel of reporters.
'Such a nice man,' Nellie said as she hung up. She was chewing on something.
'Seems to be. What did he want?'
'He said he wished to order some Black Magic for himself and wanted to know where I got it. The Divine Obsession, wasn't it?'
'Yes.' Gia had committed the address to memory. 'In London.”
'That's what I told him.' Nellie giggled. 'He was so cute. He wanted me to taste one and tell him if it was as good as I remembered. So I did. They're lovely! I think I'll have another.' She held up the dish. 'Do help yourself.'
Gia shook her head. 'No, thanks. With Vicky allergic to it, I've kept it out of the house for so long I've lost my taste for it.'
'That's a shame,' Nellie said, holding another between a thumb and forefinger with her pinkie raised and taking a dainty bite out of it. 'These are simply lovely.'
7
