Dishonored (44 page)

Indi swallowed. “He wasn’t involved in the murder of…?”

“No, I do not think that he was.” Ashok looked down at his hands then up at Indi. “There was a theft from Vikram Singh, the
maharajah of Baijur, and my uncle disappeared just after this. The man that was involved was Ramesh Rai, he was a great friend
of the maharajah, his family were jewelers, they had worked for the house of Singh for many, many years. He was also a great
friend of Bodi Yadav, like a son to him. He disappeared one night with the entire wealth of the maharajah; no one ever heard
of him again.”

Indi held her breath. She had the most peculiar feeling that she knew what was coming next.

“Ramesh Rai was working for the maharajah,” Ashok said. “He was supposed to have hidden the wealth and made a puzzle of where
to be able to find it. It was all for political security, Baijur was a very unstable state then.”

“Did he make this…?” Indi lost her voice. She coughed to clear her throat and took a deep breath. “Did he make this puzzle
into a book?”

“Yes, I think so. I think that is what we have. I thought it from the first moment that you gave it to me in the gymkhana
club… Indu?”

Indi had slid down the wall and squatted, her head in her hands.

“Indu? Are you all right?” Ashok knelt beside her. He touched her arm and she looked up.

“You think my father is Ramesh Rai?”

“I think it must be so. I think you have the puzzle that he made.”

Indi blinked rapidly to try and stop the tears. She desperately wanted to blow her nose and longed for Oliver to appear with
his handkerchief. “Why tell me now?” she asked, using the sleeve of her shirt instead.

“Because I wanted you to know the truth. I am doing this for my family, I cannot get married until my family has regained
its honor; Mira’s family will not have me.”

Indi hung her head. It was stupid, and she was trying desperately not to, but she couldn’t stop herself crying. The tears
streamed down her face and the sobs caught in her throat. She covered her face.

“Oh my God, Indu, please do not cry. Please do not upset yourself on my account.”

“It’s not on your account,” she cried, half weeping, half laughing at his ridiculous assumption. “It’s… Oh, forget it!”
She lifted the hem of her shirt and blew her nose loudly on it, but the tears still streamed.

Ashok leaned forward and gently embraced her. “Please, do not be upset, Indu, please.” He stroked her hair. “Please, be calm
now.” He pulled back and very briefly kissed her lips, a kiss of friendship, the seal of her forgiveness. He wiped her face
with his fingertips. “Come now, we will go and find Oliver and see if he has been able to solve this last piece of the mystery.”
He stood and pulled Indi to her feet. “Come, let us go.” And, holding her arm, he led her down the stairs to find Oliver.

Oliver stepped into the shadows out of sight and turned toward the view, gripping the wall, his knuckles white with tension.
He hadn’t been able to hear what was going on, he hadn’t been able to properly see, he was too far away, but he had caught
sight of them kissing, he hadn’t been too far away to see that! He dropped his head down and closed his eyes. The pain of
it tore through him and made the black behind his eyes turn red and burn. He knew now, of course he knew! He’d known all along
really, only he just couldn’t admit it. He was in love with her, he had been from the first moment he saw her. Only he’d been
stupid, stupid to imagine for one moment that she might feel the way that he did, stupid to think that she was different,
special. One night, one intense moment of passion, and he thinks that’s it. What a prat! He had honestly believed that she… He stopped himself and opened his eyes. She had never given him any sign, apart from that instinctive passion. Hell,
they hadn’t even touched since; how in God’s name could he have thought all of that? He turned toward the fort and saw Indi
and Ashok below in the courtyard. “You were wrong, Oliver,” he said aloud, “you were bloody wrong! You fool!” And he swallowed
down the hurt, knowing he had no choice, put his hand up and called out to them.

“Oliver? Are you all right?” Two hours later, Indi walked into the suite after him and dropped her bag down on the sofa. He
hadn’t said a word for over an hour now, not since Ashok had left for home to go over Bodi Yadav’s diaries in search for something
that might give them a lead. He had suggested it, then sat in stony silence all the way back to the hotel. “Oliver?”

“Yes!” he snapped. He took a breath and turned away again. He had nothing to say to her, why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

Indi shrugged. She didn’t need this, she had enough grief of her own. She walked through to the bedroom and took her washbag
off the side. “I think I’ll have a bath,” she called, “and then maybe get some sleep.” They had been up nearly all night,
traveling to the fort, climbing up there and then trying to figure it all out. She went into the bathroom and ran the taps.
She was tired, she needed to unwind, think about things. Closing the door, she stripped off, sprinkled some perfumed oil into
the water and, testing it first with her toe, she climbed in the bath and sank down into the water. She submerged herself
and came up seconds later feeling instantly better. She remembered her hair shampoo; it was in the bedroom.

Oliver stared at the closed bathroom door for several minutes before hoisting his rucksack on to the bed. He unclipped it
and went to the drawers for his clothes. She didn’t need him there, they were almost at the end now and he was peripheral,
an extra. She had Ashok, they could solve it between them, they didn’t want him messing up their romance.

He pulled his three shirts from the drawer, all freshly laundered by the hotel, and dropped them in his rucksack. He crossed
to the bed and pulled open the bedside drawer. Now he’d made up his mind, nothing was going to stop him.

“Oliver?” He looked up. “What are you doing?” Indi stood in the doorway, dripping wet, a towel wrapped around her body.

“Packing,” he answered sharply. “What does it look like?” He didn’t want a scene, he wanted to be left alone to get on with
it.

“It looks like something’s upset you,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me what it is?”

“Butt out, Indi!” Her presence annoyed him, it was as if she wanted to rub it in.

Indi came into the room. She was suddenly angry, irrationally so. What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t just leave, walk
out on her! The anger flared dangerously in her chest, fueled by panic. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What? Butt out?” Oliver took the small pile of personal effects and stuffed them in the pocket of his bag. “Exactly that!”
he said.

Suddenly Indi grabbed his arm and shook it. “Stop doing that!” she cried. “If you want a row you can have one.” The thought
of him going made her faint with pain.

Oliver brushed her off. “I don’t want a row. I just want to leave. OK?” He shoved past her.

“No! It’s not OK!” She went after him. “You can’t leave now. How will we manage without you? How will we get any further?”

“On your own,” he said, collecting up his bits and pieces from the sitting-room. “Like most grown-ups.”

“Like most…!” Indi turned away speechless. Her stomach was churning and she wanted to scream. How could he do this? How
could he?

“Excuse me.” Oliver brushed past her to get back into the bedroom.

Suddenly she pushed him. “No!” she shouted. “I won’t excuse you!” It didn’t hurt but it unbalanced him for a moment and he
stumbled, knocking himself on the door. He spun around and without thinking, pushed her back. Only his strength doubled hers
and she smacked into the door frame with a loud crunch. She caught her breath, shocked for a second, then she yelled. “You
fucking bastard! Don’t you dare…”

She went for him. One instant she was looking at his face and the next she was punching him in the chest, kicking him, screaming
at him. He took it for a moment, too shocked to react, then he grabbed her wrists and held them up while she struggled against
him. He yanked her hands down to her sides, shoved her back against the door with his bodyweight and went to release her,
to walk away. He looked at her eyes.

“Jesus Christ!” Moments later they were kissing. She pressed her body into his and her arms went up around his neck, pulling
him down to her, the force of her passion so intense it took his breath away. They sank down to the floor and he ripped the
towel away from her. She wound her legs over him as his hands traveled the length of her body, she fumbled with his belt.

“Wait,” he whispered harshly. “Wait.” He let her go and knelt up, taking off his shirt, unfastening his trousers. She touched
him and he closed his eyes. “God, Indi, I…” he broke off and looked at her, naked and beautiful in the early morning
light. He finished undressing, then reached for his shirt, rolled it up and gently placed it under her head. “You are beautiful,”
he said.

She caught his hand and kissed the palm, the wrist, then she lay it on her breast. “Then love me,” she whispered, “love me.”

Oliver moved over, covered her with his body and she smiled, reaching up to him. He licked the perfumed skin of her breast
and gently sucked her nipple. He found her mouth and she wrapped her legs high up around his hips. They kissed, their mouths
and their bodies became one and as he moved, slowly, making her cry out, she caught her fingers in his hair and whispered
his name, over and over again.

Later, after they had made love again, slowly, tangled in the sheets of the bed, Oliver woke from a light sleep to find her
gone. He rolled over and snapped his eyes open. She was sitting on the floor with his shirt on, her head resting on her knees
and a photograph from one of the news cuttings in her hand.

“Are you all right, Indi?”

She looked up. “I don’t know,” she answered. “This is my father,” she said quietly, holding up the cutting. “I think, anyway.
Ramesh Rai, friend to the maharajah of Baijur, seducer of married women, accessory to murder perhaps, thief.” She dropped
her head back on her knees and Oliver climbed out of bed, going across to her. He knelt down.

“You don’t know any of that,” he said. “Not for sure.”

“I don’t know anything at all, Oliver, I am more uncertain of myself now, of everything I am, than I have ever been in my
entire life before.”

He glanced away. He had hoped, thought, that perhaps she would be certain of one thing, of him and what she felt for him.

Indi wiped the tears from her cheeks on the back of her hand.

“I thought I knew who I was, where I was going. Now, now I don’t even know what to do next.” She didn’t dare talk about them,
about what had just happened. She couldn’t.

Oliver reached out and brushed her hair off her face. “You are going to find out what happened to your parents,” he said.
“The truth. That’s what you’re going to do next.”

“How? We’ve come to a dead end. The Tiberis Fort led nowhere and the verse meant nothing to me. I’ve no idea where it came
from.”

“Hmmm. Look, don’t worry, I’m certain something will come up.”

Indi narrowed her eyes. “What does hmmm mean? Do you know something I don’t?”

“I’m not sure, maybe.”

She looked doubtfully at him. “Are you always this optimistic?”

He leaned forward and kissed her bare knee. “Only after fantastic sex,” he said. She smiled. “Will you come back to bed?”

“No, I think I’ll finish that bath I started earlier.”

Oliver stood and grabbed a towel off the back of the chair. “Would you mind if I joined you?”

“No, of course not.”

He held out his hands and she took them, levering herself up. “I’ll run the taps then,” he said.

“Yes, OK.” She watched him head into the bathroom and felt a sudden pain in her chest. She didn’t want to be in love, she
couldn’t afford to be in love, not now, not with all the confusion in her head. She laid the photo of her father in the front
of the book and put it away in her bag. No, she decided, I will not let myself do this, not now, not at the moment. She sighed
and a sinking feeling hit the pit of her stomach. Perhaps I was right earlier, she thought, maybe not ever. And sadly, she
went on into the bathroom.

John put his bag down in the reception of the Lake Palace Hotel and went across to the desk to confirm his reservation. It
had been hell to get a room here but he’d done it, by paying extra, of course, and by taking one of the most expensive rooms
in the place, one that had just come free and one that he had paid a hefty premium to have cleaned immediately. He smiled
as he signed in. Why save it, he thought, when you need it?

He turned from the desk and went across to pick up his bag. He was in a hurry, he bent, not looking in front of him, and collided
with an Indian head-on. There was a scuffle and John put his hands out to stop himself from unbalancing. He held on to the
Indian and felt something hard around the man’s waist. He pulled back and looked up sharply. He knew the shape of a knife,
could tell one with his eyes closed.

“Oh, excuse me, old chap!” John took in the man’s face, an ordinary face, not unpleasant, but the eyes were different, they
were hard, unseeing. The Indian turned abruptly away and muttered an apology. He had gone before John realized it

Brushing himself down, John picked up his bag and stopped at the desk on the way. “Erm, excuse me?” The clerk looked up. “Is
that chap a guest here? I think I might know him.”

“Who, sir?”

“The Indian fella who was here a few moments ago.”

The clerk shrugged. “No, I do not think he is a guest here, sir.”

“I see.” John smiled politely. “Thank you.” He looked toward the terrace. “Which way to room one three five, please?”

“Out on to the terrace, sir, and then turn on the right.” John nodded and made his way along to his room.

Ten minutes later, he had washed, changed his clothes and rang the desk to ask about Indu. Noting down the number of the royal
suite, he ripped the page off the pad, combed his hair quickly in the mirror and left his luggage where it was. He took only
the Browning out, carried on a Special Forces license and locked it in the room safe. Then he set off to find Indu. He had
missed her; he couldn’t wait to see her.