“Perhaps,” Divya allowed. “But I did some checking with a friend of mine in the archeology department and he told me something very interesting: that he believes the mosaic was transported from another temple, which was destroyed during the Indian Rebellion of 1857.”
“And that temple was in…?”
“Pathankot. Which is quite near the Kashmir border.”
Allie’s voice quickened. “So that’s our mosaic.”
“It’s possible. There are no photographs of it, though, in the new location, so we are relying on my memory, as well as my friend’s.”
“Why no pictures? Is that some sort of holy thing?”
Divya laughed. “Like stealing our souls with the camera? No. It’s because the mosaic was only recently relocated from the ruins of the destroyed temple, and the one in Jaipur is undergoing renovations, so the interior has been closed to the public for several years. I saw it before they shut the temple down.”
Allie thanked Divya and was preparing to hang up when a question occurred to her. “Divya, have you heard any rumors about relics in ashrams around here?”
“Rumors? There are always rumors, but nothing specific. No. Why?”
“Do you know of a holy man named Swami Baba Raja?”
“Oh, yes, of course. He’s famous. His ashram is called the Eternal Bliss. He is well known for materializing gold lingams from his mouth, as well as all manner of chains, rings, watches, and such.”
“Really?”
“Yes. There are many who wish to believe these conjuring tricks are real. It is sad, really, but these are odd times.”
“Not you, obviously.”
“No, I know sufficient science and physics to understand that such things are impossible, and I’ve seen magicians perform the same feats on the streets of Delhi. Are they also to be assumed to be living incarnations of God? Please. Having said that, he has done much good with his charities, so he is not a bad man. No different than your television holy men who ask for money all the time. It is simply business.”
“Yes, unfortunately, selling hope to the suffering and the frightened isn’t unique to any one culture.”
“It is the regrettable history of our species.”
“Let me give you my new number in case anything else occurs to you,” Allie said, and rattled off her digits.
“Very well. I hope I’ve been able to help.”
“You have. Any news on the professor’s passing?”
“No. It’s been quiet, other than many calling to express their condolences. He was well loved and quite respected. It is a tragedy.”
Allie ended the call and relayed her discussion to Drake.
“Sounds like we need to make a visit to the ashram and see if we can locate the other relic,” he said.
“My thoughts exactly. Maybe Spencer can go to Jaipur while we’re doing so and get a photo of the mosaic?”
“Fine, but how do we get into either place? She said the temple’s closed to the public, right?”
“Spencer will find a way.”
“And the ashram?”
Allie thought for several long beats before holding up her phone. “I think it’s time to make a call to our good friend Casey Reynolds. Maybe he can help.”
Chapter 35
Spencer was waiting on the sidewalk with Allie’s bag hanging from his shoulder when Drake and Allie arrived. They walked to a small two-story mall with twenty shops built around the world’s sorriest plaza and sat at an outdoor table and ordered cold drinks. Reynolds hadn’t answered the phone when Allie had called, so she’d left her new number and was waiting for him to call back.
“How am I supposed to get to Jaipur?” Spencer asked. “Most means of travel are going to require identification. Even the buses want to see a passport.”
“How do you know that?” Drake asked.
“Google.”
“Ah.”
“Maybe we can have the French guy drive you? He seemed like a fun fellow to do a road trip with. Little male bonding?” Allie suggested.
“Always thinking of me, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll get there on my own. I can always hire one of the incredibly comfortable taxis from around here and have it drive me.”
Allie’s phone rang. Reynolds’s voice came on the line.
“Sorry. I have to be discreet about taking calls on the job,” he explained.
“We need some help. We’re making progress, but we need to get into an ashram and don’t have the faintest idea how to do so.”
“An ashram? I don’t understand. Why would I be able to help?” Reynolds asked.
“The guru who runs it is apparently a prominent figure. Lot of government functionaries are followers. We were hoping you might have some contacts in his organization?”
“I can check. Who is it?”
“Guy calls himself Swami Baba Raja.”
“I can do a search in our database. I don’t have anyone in my network who has anything to do with him. Where’s the ashram located?”
“Bhiwani.”
“West of Delhi, maybe seventy miles. Not a lot going on there,” Reynolds said. “I seriously doubt we’d have any reason to cultivate assets in an ashram in the middle of nowhere.”
“That wasn’t the response we were hoping for,” Allie said, shaking her head at Drake.
“I’ll check. Anything else?”
She told him about the professor and the disappearing Oliver Helms. Reynolds was quiet when she finished.
“I’ll run his name, too. But if his people have the juice to get him released after being found at a murder scene, that raises the stakes to a whole new level. I doubt that’s the case.”
“You’ve got the clout to get Spencer absolved of his crime.”
“That’s because he didn’t do it, and they’ve got nothing. You’re talking about the murder of a prominent academic, with the perpetrator’s prints all over the knife. Different story.”
“Let me know what you learn. In the meantime, we’ll be pursuing the leads we have.”
“Fair enough. Do you need Roland for anything?”
“Not just yet. We’re keeping a low profile. We’ll call if we need his help.”
“What about a place to stay?”
“That didn’t work out so well the last time, did it?” She hung up and eyed Spencer. “What were you able to learn about the ashram?”
“Pretty much what you know. Although there are some hysterical videos of the guy wrestling a tiger and supposedly materializing crap.”
“Tiger wrestling?” Drake asked.
“He claims he’s a reincarnation of a previous guru who did the same thing.”
“Really? That’s a thing? You can just say anything that pops into your head, and people believe it and give you money?”
“Apparently so.”
“I’m in the wrong business,” Drake muttered.
“I know. Sounds like being a politician, only you lie less,” Allie said.
“But as far as the ashram goes, I think you can just make a donation and join,” Spencer continued. “Pretend to be truth seekers or whatever on a spiritual quest, and they should be on you like white on rice. But you can’t take your bag with the dagger, Allie. Only what you have on your back and enough cash to make you interesting. Maybe a change of clothes. You’re pilgrims, and they’re usually pretty broke, but you can be spoiled rich kids seeking wisdom.” He frowned. “The temple is going to be a different matter. It’s closed and you can’t get in, according to the web. A few folks probably go there to take photos of the grounds and exterior, but nobody’s allowed in.”
“So how are you going to handle it?” Allie asked.
“Where there’s a will…”
Drake looked around the mall and then back to Allie. “Where can we stash the dagger and your stuff?”
“I took the liberty of looking up storage lockers,” Spencer said. “Short answer is there aren’t any, but you can leave the bag at the cloakroom at any railway station if you have a valid ticket — they’re apparently completely safe. So buy a ticket for Allie traveling three days from now, buy a hard suitcase and stuff everything in it, lock it, and we’re good to go.”