This time, however, he seemed to have lost them. No one had followed him into the baker’s yard. He must have given them the slip. Cautiously, he made his way back into the alley. A few blocks later he emerged onto a main road where the ubiquitous rickshaws made way for the more modern yellow cabs. Almost like New York.
He stuck out his arm.
“Taj Mahal Palace, please. Jaldi karna!”
THE MAN HAD SAT AT THE bars of some of the most luxurious hotels in the world. The Chateau Marmont in Los Angeles, the San Pietro in Positano, the Peninsula in Hong Kong. But for sheer opulence, nothing could beat the Taj Mahal Palace hotel in Mumbai. A sumptuous mishmash of Moorish, Oriental and Florentine design, it was as majestic a home away from home as any maharajah could wish for. The main bar was accessed from the lobby, a vast space with marble floors and vaulted alabaster ceilings. An intricately carved arch supported by two onyx columns led into the darker, candlelit bar. The vibe there was more intimate, but just as luxurious, with wine-red velvet couches so soft you felt you were sitting on clouds and antique Persian rugs woven in every imaginable color. All around, richly dressed couples were laughing, their cut-crystal glasses glinting like diamonds as they sipped caipirinhas or Long Island iced teas. Royalty for a day.
He took his usual seat in the darkest, most recessed alcove and ordered a Diet Coke and some of the grilled cumin chicken they served as a bar snack. He wasn’t hungry, but he had to eat. He had a long night of waiting and watching ahead of him.
SARAH JANE HUGHES DIDN’T NOTICE THE American man taking his seat in the corner. She was too agitated to think about anything other than David. It wasn’t like him to be late.
Maybe he’s had a change of heart after all the shit I’ve put him through?
She couldn’t work out if the idea of him bailing on their prospective wedding made her frightened or relieved. The pressure was unbearable at times.
“I’m worth the better part of a billion dollars, Sarah Jane, okay? Whether you like it or not, that sort of money brings complications.”
Complications. Talk about an understatement.
Pulling a small black mi
rror out of her purse, Sarah Jane touched up her makeup and arranged her hair the way she knew David liked it. Smoothing down her knee-length skirt, she unbuttoned the top of her blouse just enough to hint at the glorious figure beneath. Like most men, David Ishag liked the demure look. It made him feel secure. That the delights of Sarah Jane’s body were for his eyes only. Which, of course, they were.
Till death do us part.
And there he was, walking toward her, lighting up the room the way that only he could, a human fireball of charisma. So handsome. So charming.
I can’t go through with it.
She forced herself to take deep, calming breaths.
“Darling. Sorry I’m late.”
“Very late.” She kissed him on the lips, running her hands through his glossy dark hair only faintly tinged with gray at the temples. “I was starting to worry.”
Envious female eyes bored into her. Sarah Jane blinded them with a dazzling flash of her sapphire-and-diamond engagement ring.
David Ishag kissed her back.
“Silly girl. You never need to worry. Not now, not ever again. Not with me to take care of you.”
THE MAN IN THE CORNER HAD the shakes. He couldn’t bear to watch them, Sarah Jane and David. It was too painful. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away.
A waitress approached him. “Are you all right, sir? Can I get you something?”
My sanity, please. If you’re out of that, I’ll have Prozac on the rocks with a twist of chlorpromazine.
“I’ll take a bourbon. Straight up.”
ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE bar, a different man was watching.
This man noticed everything: the pallor of the foreigner’s skin, the cruel tremor in his hand as he sipped his drink. He’d been following the white man for days now and had come to think of him almost as an old friend.
Poor devil. His heart cannot accept the truths that his eyes see. Is there any madness in this world greater than the madness of love?
The man’s heart swelled with compassion, with pity for a fellow lost soul.
It really was too bad he was going to have to kill him.