The Dalai Lama's Cat and the Power of Meow (The Dalai Lama's Cat 3)

“Thank you for meeting us here today,” began Sid, after pleasantries had been exchanged and Mr. Patel was sitting on one of the cane chairs. “I wanted to ask you more about what you told Serena last week about the completion date being pushed back a further six months.”

Evidently anticipating the question, Mr. Patel began to reel off an impressive list of the kitchen appliances that would need to be imported, the convoluted process required to secure each item, the challenges faced by mid-tier building companies such as his—along with a brief foray into Indian macroeconomics and some side references to the volatile rupee.

Once he’d finished, Sid confirmed, “So the delay really hinges on the availability of appliances?”

“You have to understand—the agency we use is overwhelmed at the moment. It’s not simply a matter of walking into a shop and ordering stock items.”

“All right,” replied Sid before the builder could continue. “But it is only about the appliances?”

The builder was nodding vigorously.

“Fortunately, one of my companies is in the import business,” Sid told him. “I asked the manager to make some inquiries.” From a folder, Sid extracted a sheet of paper on which a list of items had been

checked.

“We found an alternative supplier who can provide these items within two weeks.”

Mr. Patel reached over to take the list.

“Good news, no?” confirmed Sid.

Mr. Patel stared at the page, then replied with the utmost reluctance. “I am expecting there would be cancellation charges for the order we have already placed,” he began.

“I’m sure there won’t be,” Sid countered smoothly.

“We can’t just be cutting and running,” he blustered. “Someone in your position, sir. A builder with a reputation like Patel Construction . . .”

“Why would reputation come into it?”

“We can’t be seen to be playing fast and loose with suppliers . . .”

“Are you seriously suggesting that we should wait six months to avoid the possibility of disappointing a Delhi import agent?”

“That’s only part of it, sir.” Mr. Patel’s eyes were roving wildly from side to side.

“You mean . . . ?”

“There’s a lot more to this than meets the eye.”

“Okay . . .” Sid remained calm. “What have I missed?”

The builder squirmed in his chair. “I had to assign my subcontractors elsewhere.”

“They can’t be reassigned?”

“You’re placing me in a most difficult position!” Mr. Patel’s voice rose.

“I am placing you—” Sid replied coldly. “I was supposed to move into this place months ago. There’s been nothing but delays and excuses. Frankly, I’m fed up with it.”

“The agent is very difficult to work with, sir. These people in Delhi—”

“My manager also placed a call to your agent.”

Mr. Patel flinched.

“He asked about the items you allege will take months to get here. What would you say”—Sid’s voice turned slow and precise—“if I was to tell you that your agent can also have them available in two weeks?”

“There must be a misunderstanding,” Mr. Patel protested.