‘Just look in the papers. He’s in there a lot.’
‘Oh, really?’
Marj was already making her way through to the coffee shop, from which she retrieved a pile of that week’s Daily Mails. They flicked through the pages and it didn’t take long before Dale pointed, expressionlessly. ‘That’s him.’
The photograph showed a beaming Cullen in his shirtsleeves, with a large group of Indian children clutching his arms.
‘Mike Cullen?’ Jim read the caption.
Dale nodded.
‘“Spin-doctor saves child slaves from misery”,’ Jim and Marj read the headline aloud together.
Then Jim was shaking his head. ‘You just never know, do you?’
Read the first chapter of
I hope you found Conflict of Interest a stimulating read.
The Magician of Lhasa is also a thriller, but of a somewhat different kind. With one foot in a world not so very different from Chris Treiger’s, the back story charts the increasingly perilous flight through the Himalayas by a Tibetan lama and his two novices as the Red Army invades Tibet. Both the contemporary and back stories involve the transfer of extraordinary wisdom, heroes grappling with dramatically increasing threats, and two storylines we know must collide but where and how?
On the following pages is a sample to whet your appetite!
The Magician of Lhasa
Chapter One
Tenzin Dorje (pronounced Ten-zin Door-jay)
Zheng-po Monastery, Tibet
March 1959
I am alone in the sacred stillness of the temple, lighting butter-lamps at the Buddha’s feet, when I first realize that something is very wrong.
“Tenzin Dorje!” Startled, I turn to glimpse the spare frame of my teacher, silhouetted briefly at the far door. “My room. Immediately!”
For a moment I am faced with a dilemma. Making offerings to the Buddha is considered a special privilege—and as a sixteen year old novice monk I take this duty seriously. Not only is there a particular order in which the candles must be lit. Each new flame should be visualized as representing a precious gift—such as incense, music and flowers—to be offered for the sake of all living beings.
I know that nothing should prevent me from completing this important rite. But is obedience to my kind and holy teacher not more important? Besides, I can’t remember the last time that Lama Tsering used the word “immediately.” Nor can I remember a time when anyone shouted an order in the temple. Especially not Zheng-po’s highest-ranking lama.
Even though I am only half way through lighting the candles, I quickly snuff out the taper. Bowing briefly to the Buddha, I hurry outside.
In the twilight, disruption is spreading through Zheng-po monastery like ripples from a stone thrown into a tranquil lake. Monks are knocking loudly on each other’s doors. People are rushing across the courtyard with unusual haste. Villagers have gathered outside the Abbot’s office and are talking in alarmed voices and gesturing down the valley.
Slipping into my sandals, I gather my robe above my knees and, abandoning the usual monastic code, break into a run.
Lama Tsering’s room is at the furthermost end, across the courtyard and past almost all the monks’ rooms, in the very last building. Even though his status would accord him a spacious and comfortable room directly overlooking the courtyard, he insists on living next to his novices in a small cell on the edge of Zheng-po.
When I get to the room, his door is thrown open and his floor, usually swept clean, is scattered with ropes and packages I’ve never seen. His lamp is turned to full flame, making him look even taller and more disproportionate than ever as his shadow leaps about the walls and ceiling with unfamiliar urgency.
I’ve no sooner got there than I turn to find Paldon Wangpo hurrying towards me. The pair of us are Lama Tsering’s two novices but we have an even stronger karmic connection: Paldon Wangpo is my brother, two years older than me.
We knock on our teacher’s door.
Lama Tsering beckons us inside, telling us to close the door behind us. Although the whole of Zheng-po is in turmoil, his face shows no sign of panic. Though there is no disguising the gravity of his expression.
“I only have time to tell you this once, so you must please listen carefully,” he looks from one to the other of us with a seriousness we only see before an important examination.