‘That’s true, that’s very true. Maybe a neighbour, even, could have overheard when she gave it to the old man. I don’t know, I just don’t know! All our bunch may have known all about it, from that time you telephoned for me and got Ashok, and gave him the whole story to hand on to me… but then, most of the bunch are away in Sarnath still, and have been since early the morning after you called, before Anjli was snatched.’
Dominic had laid down his fork with careful quietness. ‘Most?’ He met the blank, enquiring stare, and elaborated uneasily: ‘I thought you all were.’
‘Well, all the working unit, yes, and nearly all the players. Not Kamala, of course – Yashodhara doesn’t appear in the Deer Park scenes. This is where the sacred brotherhood line begins. No women on the scene for a while.’
‘I see.’ Dominic reflected that he should have taken time off, like Anjli, to read the book, and he might have been somewhat wiser in his assumptions. All the women left behind in Delhi! He thought for a moment, and asked without undue emphasis: ‘And Ashok?’
‘Ashok? In India you don’t ask an artist of that calibre to run around after you, you run after him. We show the rushes for Ashok, right here in Delhi, and he broods over them three or four times, and comes up with the music for the sound-track when he’s good and ready. Oh, yes, he likes to spend a good deal of time with us down at Hauz Khas, but that’s a bonus. He enjoys us. But not enough to go blundering about in Sarnath with us on the day’s grind.’
‘I see,’ said Dominic again, making more readjustments. But this picture of Ashok, on the face of it, removed him still farther from any possibility of participation in a sordid crime for gain. ‘I suppose he must be in the film star class himself, then?’
‘Just about. I know what you’re thinking of – this tune you heard the chap in the garden here whistling – but you don’t even know that it was the chap who brought the note, do you? And for goodness sake, some of the sweepers and drivers around the villas and the office could have heard Ashok playing that theme and picked it up. He meant it to be catchy. And believe me, he isn’t satisfied with one run through when he’s recording, not to mention all the practising beforehand. I shouldn’t worry too much about that. Even if you’re right about it!’ And plainly he was by no means convinced about that, and on the whole Dominic could hardly blame him. Nobody else had been convinced, either, not even Tossa.
‘Mind if I hang around with you this evening? Just in case anything happens?’
‘I wish you would!’
‘I shouldn’t have any peace if I left you to it,’ said Felder almost apologetically.
They adjourned to Dominic’s sitting-room, and waited the evening through; and no one got much rest, when it came to the point. The strain of waiting for something to happen is not conducive to conversation, and presently even monosyllables faded out. Eight o’clock passed, and nothing broke the tension. Nine o’clock, and still nothing. Half-past nine…
Felder shook his solid shoulders and sighed. ‘Nothing’s going to happen tonight, it seems. I wonder if they went for Vasudev and family loyalty, after all?’
And it was then that the telephone rang.
All three of them started wildly, as if a gun had been fired; all three of them came to their feet, staring at the instrument, even reaching out for it, half afraid to take the plunge. Dominic looked up over the white handset at Felder.
‘Yes,’ said Felder rapidly, ‘you take it. Hold it till I open the door, then answer it, and if it is – give me the sign, and I’ll slip down to the switchboard and see if it can be traced. And – listen! – if it is, talk back, hold him as long as you can, give us a chance. And don’t miss a word he says!’
He took a couple of quick strides backwards and opened the door of the room. Dominic lifted the receiver.
‘Hullo… Dominic Felse here.’
‘You are the gentleman who has lost some valuables,’ said a high, strident, clacking voice in his ear. ‘I have them, they can be recovered.’
Dominic’s mouth was suddenly so dry that for a minute he could not make any answer. He nodded strenuously at Felder across the room, and the big man slid noiselessly through the door he was holding open, and drew it to after him, releasing the latch slowly so that it made not a sound. In the telephone the voice crackled impatiently: ‘I know you hear me. You want your lost property back. I can provide. Of course at a proper price.’ An old voice, he thought, or at least elderly; its tone cracked when it was raised, it had no body in it, and no juice. On first bearing, either male or female; but he thought, male. He moistened his lips feverishly, and instinctively began to waste time.
‘Who is that? Are you sure you’re on the right number? This is Felse speaking, you wanted me?’
‘It is you who want me, my friend,’ said the voice, and cackled painfully in his eardrum. ‘If you want Miss Kumar, that is.’
‘How do I know you really have any information about Miss Kumar? Where are you speaking from? Who are you? How do you know anything about it?’
‘That is very well put, how do I know! How could I know, except that I have her? Oh, she is safe, quite safe. You want proof? Miss Kumar has American passport…’ Horrifyingly the old voice rattled off its number, the place of its issuing, the personal details of her description, and giggled unnervingly at the blank silence that ensued. ‘You can have this lady back for two hundred thousand rupees – cash.’
‘But that’s impossible… you must allow us time, at least, how can we command cash at short notice…?’ Dominic protested, feeling round the apparently empty recesses of his mind for any prevarication he could find, anything to keep the man talking; while at the same time he struggled to record every word that was said. ‘I don’t believe you have her. You could have found her handbag, or stolen it, and got hold of the passport that way. If she’s there, let her speak to me, and I’ll believe…’
The voice cut him off sharply. ‘Listen, if you want her! You get that two hundred thousand rupees, you get it in mixed notes and put it into a cheap black school bag. And on Sunday afternoon at two o’clock…’
‘Sunday?’ gasped Dominic in utter dismay. ‘But that’s only two days! How can we…’
‘… on Sunday, I say, you go, you and the woman also, to the Birla Temple. You leave your shoes with the lame boy who sits at the foot of the steps, on the right, and with your shoes the case with the money. Then you go into the temple and stay within for half an hour, not one minute less. Do not try to keep watch on your shoes, do not say one word to the police, or anyone else, if you want to see the girl again. Put on your shoes and go back to your hotel. On Sunday evening I call you again and we arrange about the child. If you have done as you are told.’
‘But, listen, we want to co-operate, but it’s a question of time, damn it! – You must give us longer than that…’
‘Sunday. If you want her.’ The line echoed one quavering ring, and was dead. Dominic held the receiver numbly for a moment, and then very gently cradled it. His knees gave under him, and he sat down abruptly. ‘My God, it’s impossible, we can’t! I don’t believe it can be done, not by cable, not even by telephone.’
‘Why?’ Tossa urged, pale and quiet. ‘What did he say? What is it he wants?’
‘Two hundred thousand rupees by Sunday. Sunday! Now we’ve got to call Dorette Lester, we’ve got no choice. But I doubt if we can get the money through by then, whatever we do… whatever she does!’