When they got to the van, Arun had just finished the arrangement and said he’d meet Jack and Laurie at the Indian Airlines counter at the domestic airport. Then he rushed off to his car.
Jack, Laurie, and Neil piled into the van, Jack behind the wheel. He even left a little rubber in the Queen Victoria driveway, but the rapid driving stopped abruptly at the street. They had forgotten the noontime traffic.
“When we get to the hotel, I’ve got to take the time to give myself the HCG trigger shot,” Laurie said. She was sitting in the front passenger seat.
“Oh, right,” Jack responded. “It’s good you remembered. I’d totally forgotten.”
“You’d also better remember to take along these syringes here on the backseat,” Neil said. The bag with the sterile syringes was next to him, wedged between the seat and the seat back.
“Good point,” Laurie said. “I might have forgotten them, which would have left us high and dry. Hand them up here!”
Neil passed the bag to Laurie.
“Sorry you and Jennifer can’t come with us,” Laurie said over her shoulder.
“That’s okay. I’ll use the afternoon to start looking into booking our return flights. I think the sooner Jennifer is out of here, the better.”
“Have her decide on what to do with her grandmother right away,” Laurie said. “And then call over to the Gangamurthy Medical College and get it arranged.”
“She’s pretty well decided on cremation, so we’ll do that right away.”
With Jack and Laurie keyed up about their upcoming trip, conversation lapsed for the twenty minutes it took to get back to their hotel. Even when they arrived, they didn’t speak as they hurried into the lobby.
“You head upstairs,” Jack said to Laurie. “I’ll arrange transportation to the airport, then be up.”
“You got it,” Laurie said, and she rushed off.
“And we’ll see you guys sometime tomorrow,” Jack said to Neil. “You heard where we are staying in Varanasi, and I know Jennifer has Laurie’s cell phone number, so keep in touch and keep her here in the hotel!”
“Will do,” Neil said.
Since it Was a little after one in the afternoon, Neil walked across the lobby and poked his head into the main restaurant, thinking he might see Jennifer.
As he scanned the restaurant’s interior, the maître d’ caught his eye. “Your companion hasn’t been in today,” he said to Neil.
Neil thanked him. The Amal Palace Hotel continued to amaze him with its level of service. He’d never been to a hotel where the employees seemed to remember the guests to such an extent.
Wondering if she could be down using the spa facilities, and since the elevator that accessed them was next to the restaurant, Neil boarded and rode down. The elevator door opened at the spa’s front desk, and Neil inquired if Jennifer Hernandez was receiving any services, such as a massage, at that moment. Since the answer was no, Neil walked down the hall and checked the stationary bikes: no Jennifer. Continuing on, he exited the spa into the garden and walked to the pool.
With a hazy sun and a temperature hovering in the mid-eighties, the pool was a popular destination, and a number of people were taking advantage of poolside dining. Since he’d not found her elsewhere, Neil was actually surprised not to find her there. It was remarkably pleasant.
Guessing that she must still be in her room and possibly still sleeping, maybe with her phone ringer turned off, Neil debated what to do. If she was still sleeping, she truly needed it, and he wasn’t going to wake her. Consequently, he decided to do what he’d wanted to do the night he’d arrived — namely, put an ear to her door. If he heard either her moving around or showering, or the television playing, he’d knock. If all was quiet, he’d let her sleep.
With the decision made, Neil retraced his steps toward the spa entrance. One way or the other, he decided he’d come out to the pool himself.
Chapter 34
October 19, 2007
Friday, 4:02 p.m.
New Delhi, India
Rather than heading directly to her room after coming through the bungalow’s front door, Veena made a beeline for the library. She felt agitated and wanted reassurance, and there was only one person who she felt could provide it, and that was Cal Morgan. He’d already done so several times in regard to the same issue, and she was counting on it again, even though this occasion seemed to her to be the most serious.
As she came through the open door, she was relieved to see him doing paperwork at the library table. She did a double take when she caught sight of Durell stretched out on the couch, a book on his chest, and an ice pack perched on his upper forehead. It was at that moment that Cal became aware of her presence and glanced up. They both spoke at the same time, neither able to understand the other.
“I’m sorry,” Veena said nervously, her hand fluttering up to her face.
“No, it’s my fault,” Cal said, putting down his pencil and grimacing in the process. He had an ice pack balanced on the top of his left shoulder.
There was a moment of awkwardness as they both began to talk concurrently for the second time. Cal chuckled. “You first,” he said.
“There was a disturbing development this morning,” Veena said. “It has me upset.”
Durell swung his legs around and sat up. He was rubbing his eyes; he’d been asleep.
“Tell us what it was!” Cal said.
“Late this morning, Maria Hernandez’s body disappeared. The hospital is convinced the two forensic pathologists that Jennifer Hernandez arranged to come to India took it. They must be planning to do an autopsy or they might have already done one. What if they discover she died from succinylcholine?”
“We’ve been over this before,” Cal said, with some frustration. “Especially after this amount of time. I’ve been assured the human body rapidly gets rid of succinylcholine by breaking it down.”
“Also, remember,” Durell added, “that if they find some of the breakdown products, it doesn’t matter. The woman actually had succinylcholine during her surgery.”
“I Googled succinylcholine,” Veena said. “There have been cases where people have been convicted of killing their wives with succinylcholine, and its presence was proved by forensic pathologists.”
“I read those cases as well,” Cal said. “One of them injected the drug, and it was found in the injection site. We’ve used an existing IV. The other one, the drug was found in the idiot perpetrator’s possession. Come on, Veena! Stop being so paranoid! Durell and I researched this. It’s foolproof in our situation. Besides, I’ve recently read that isolating the drug is not easy. To this day a lot of people question the work of the toxicologist involved in the intramuscular injection case.”
“Are both of you completely convinced these New York forensic pathologists are not going to find it?” Veena implored. She wanted to believe, but her guilty mind kept suggesting otherwise.
“I-am-con-vinced,” Cal said, pronouncing each syllable in a staccato fashion. He was tired of the issue.
“Yeah, man, it’s not going to happen,” Durell corroborated.
Veena breathed out noisily, as if deflating, and collapsed into one of the library chairs. She was exhausted from her anxiety.
“Now, we have a favor to ask you,” Cal said. “We need your help.”
“The way I feel, I can’t imagine I could be of any help to anyone.”
“We feel differently,” Cal said. “Actually, we think you might be the only one that can help us.”