“Elliott would have agreed,” Spencer said softly.
Allie considered his face. “You put on more makeup?”
“You can tell?”
“No. It’s just odd seeing you with the dye job and the permanent tan.”
He lowered his voice and, after glancing around, leaned toward them across the table. “Haven’t seen any more news reports,” he said, indicating the television that was switched to a local station. “So maybe Reynolds was actually able to nip that in the bud.”
“Hope so,” Allie said. “But there’s the question of now what.”
“We need to get the message translated and find someplace to hole up for the night,” Drake said.
“So far that hasn’t worked out so well for us,” Allie muttered. “Although I am getting tired.”
“I’m thinking we should split up,” Drake said.
“What would that accomplish?” Spencer asked.
“Decrease our risk?”
“I don’t see how. I’d think it increases it — two chances to get caught instead of one.”
“We need to find someplace they’d never expect,” Allie said.
“Right. Not like a houseboat,” Drake said.
“That was the phone. I’d bet anything,” said Spencer.
“Which you still have. Maybe that’s how we do it — we turn it on and put it on a bus or a train or something, and that leads them on a fruitless chase,” Allie said. “I saw that in a movie.”
“Let’s save that for when we really need it. I think what we want is a hole in the wall, and Allie and I go in as a couple — they won’t look twice at a couple, whereas three of us raises eyebrows. Then Drake shows up and rents a room, and we’re home free.” Spencer thought about it for a moment. “The trick will be to find someplace seedy enough not to care about ID, but safe enough so we don’t get knifed.”
“So a two- or three-star hotel,” Drake said.
“Near a bus or train station, ideally. Those places see a high turnover and nobody tends to pay much attention,” Spencer finished.
“I’ll look on the web,” Allie said. “Can I have my tablet?”
Spencer dug through her bag and handed her the computer. A waitress came by and took their order, and then Allie checked the time on her phone. “I need to call the professor before it gets too late and make an appointment for tomorrow.”
“He won’t be working at this hour,” Drake said.
“He gave me his cell. Remember? He said call whenever.”
“I think that might have been an expression.”
“Only one way to find out. The sooner we know what the script says, the sooner we can get out of Delhi. I’ll feel way better once we do.” She held up her new phone. “Worth a try. He said he works late.”
Dr. Sharma glanced at his cell phone on his office desk, set down his pen, and lifted the device to his ear.
“Good evening,” he answered.
“Dr. Sharma, I’m sorry to call so late. It’s Allie, from earlier today.”
“What a delightful surprise. I’m working late, so no bother at all.”
“You said to call you once we had the dagger.”
Sharma swallowed away the lump that instantly formed in his throat. “Yes. Absolutely.”
“We just got hold of it. We wanted to make an appointment — or would you like us to send you a photograph of the back? You were right about the script continuing on the reverse side.”
“How remarkable. You say you have it in your possession?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’d love to see it in person, if you don’t mind. I’m just finishing up at the university, but perhaps… perhaps you’d be my guest for a late dinner?”
“Oh, we couldn’t impose on you.”
“Nonsense. It would be an honor. I’m an excellent cook, I assure you. It’s a guilty pleasure I get to indulge all too rarely.”
“You mean tonight?”
“If you like. I will be at my home within the hour.” Sharma did a quick calculation. “Shall we say nine o’clock? Is that too late for you?”
“Oh, no. Not at all. To be honest, I’m still on U.S. time, so my stomach doesn’t know what to do or when.”
“A common problem for travelers. It will take you three or four days to acclimate. Although they tell me it’s harder to adjust once you return.” Sharma hesitated. “Then nine, at my house. Let me give you the address. It’s by the Delhi Golf Course. You can tell any taxi — they’ll be able to find it.”
He recited the street number and Allie repeated it back to him. “Are you sure we aren’t imposing on you?”
“Of course not. It will be a treat. But perhaps the most important question: would you prefer French, Italian, or traditional Indian?”
“Whatever you like. It all sounds wonderful.”
“Well, I’ll do my best. Hopefully it won’t disappoint. And then we can take a look at your find. Quite exciting.”
Sharma hung up and looked at the pile of reports in front of him. He would come in early the next morning to catch up. Tonight he would see an artifact, which, if genuine, was a piece of history that had been lost for centuries. He lived for these moments and thanked Providence for whatever force had led the Americans to him.
He stood and stretched a kink out of his neck, and grazed the table with his prosthetic device — the intrusive clamp that acted as his pair of metal fingers. A childhood accident had robbed him of his hand, but he’d grown so used to the device he rarely thought of it and had adapted to the challenges his disability posed with the stoic acceptance with which he approached most things.
“Really most remarkable,” he muttered as he loaded his briefcase with paperwork. His assistant was still hard at it, seated at her small desk in the outer office. He emerged from his inner chamber and nodded to her as he walked by. “Good night, Divya. Remember to shut off the lights when you’re done.”
“Of course, Professor. Shouldn’t be too much longer.”
Sharma stepped through the door and hurried down the hall, his footsteps reverberating like gunshots in the largely empty building. Divya looked pensively at the door and then returned to her project, the long hours she routinely invested in her doctoral thesis just one more of the overwhelming challenges that faced a woman trying to make it in a man’s world.
Chapter 28
The taxi ride south took thirty minutes, and as they neared the golf course, the streets became cleaner, the cars newer, the buildings more modern. They’d agreed that Spencer would wait for them outside the professor’s house, it being too much of a risk to introduce him.
They’d skipped dinner at the curry place, but Spencer, whose appetite had recovered from the stress of the prior days, had made up for their picking at their order and eaten most of what was brought.
“I wish I had something else to wear. I feel like a bum and smell like a vagrant,” Drake complained from the front seat as they rumbled along the boulevard.
“Glad you’re sitting up there,” Spencer joked from the rear seat. Allie sat on the far side, her bag between them.
“You can’t be much fresher,” Drake quipped.
“That’s not what Sachita said.”
“Sachita?”
“The waitress at the café. She made it clear that she’d be available to show me the sights if I was interested, even though she now thinks I’m a dope fiend.”
Allie laughed. “She seemed like she had one main attraction in mind. You might want to take her up on that.”
“Business before pleasure. But it’s nice to know a girl’s not after your money.”
“Did you get her number?” Allie asked.
“A gentleman never tells.”
“Right. But I was asking you.”
“Hell yeah.”