The Delhi Deception (41 page)

Sighing, she took a sip of the tea Kishan had left for her on the side table and said, “I’m going to ask for extended leave. I need a real holiday.”

“Where will you go?”

“Not sure, it depends.”

“On…George?” Bitterness had crept into Andrew’s voice.

Carla blushed and replied a little brusquely, “Of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?”

After an uncomfortable minute or two of silence he said, “Carla, I’m truly sorry about Leila. Please give me another a chance.”

Hesitating slightly, Carla said, “It’s OK. I’m OK with it. I understand.” She looked past Andrew at the garden, and then, not meeting his eyes, she said, “I’m not sure what I want to do. I’ll need some time.”

Andrew kept quiet and studied Carla for a minute; standing up slowly, he walked to her and kissed her cheek. “I’m going back tonight. I’ve booked you a seat on British Airways for London. It departs at midnight. If you can’t make it, I will understand. But you must know, my heart will be broken.” He stood up and walked to the door. Turning around he said, “Please be there.”

Carla watched him leave, her emotions in tumult. The comfort of her home and life in London with Andrew was so tempting, but what about George? She had to see him. This is so unfair of Andrew. Why can’t he give me a week or two? What’s that in the big scheme of things? Sighing, she stood up and went to Elouise’s bedroom. Elouise was sitting on her bed staring at the ceiling. Seeing her friend like this tore at her heart, and she wished there were something she could do to ease the pain.

“Everything OK?” Elouise asked her.

“Andrew came to see me and has given me a kind of ultimatum. He’s booked me a seat on the London flight tonight, and I get the distinct feeling if I’m not on it, then he will take it as the end of our marriage.”

“But that’s awful. After all you’ve gone through! I think he’s been terribly unfair. Unless…do you want to go back with him?” Elouise’s tone was sympathetic.

Carla sat down on the bed next to her and said, “I need to speak to George. There are too many loose ends. To be perfectly honest, I need some time to get over him.”

Elouise squeezed her hand and said, “Carla, go. Go see him. Clear the air; you’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t.”

Smiling, Carla kissed Elouise on her cheeks and said, “You’re right. I’ll call him, and if he’s home, I’ll ask Om Prakash to drop me off.”

As Carla was about to exit the bedroom, Elouise called after her, “Carla! Tell him how you feel.”

Carla stopped and popped her head back in. “What do you mean?”

A mischievous smile played on Elouise’s lips. “Tell him that you love him.”

“How did you know?” Carla laughed.

Elouise studied her for a second. Then she said, “You’re kidding, right? It’s as obvious as day.”

Carla blew her a kiss and returned to her room to get her purse and quickly applied a touch of mascara and lipstick. She brushed her hair and tied it up into a ponytail. She knew it was quite absurd to be happy right now, but she was, even despite a tinge of guilt for being happy while both Elouise and Andrew were in such limbo. As she was asking Om Prakash to bring the car around, she called George and told him that she was on her way to see him and asked if it was all right.

“No problem. We can have lunch together if you like.”

“Sure, I’d like that,” she replied.

“Carla, you might notice, and please tell Elouise, that we have discreetly placed some extra protection around the house. We’ve identified the leader of this group, and he’s a pretty mean bastard. This all baffles us, as the rogue has never shown any sympathy with fundamentalist groups. He runs a crime racket involving bookmakers, drugs, prostitution, you name it. Anyway, we’ll chat when you’re here.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

Om Prakash opened the door to the Ambassador and greeted her politely. Within five minutes he had her outside George’s house.

“You can go back home, Om Prakash. I’ll call if I need you.”

“No problem, Madam,” he said, wiggling his head.

George was standing on the veranda. He kissed her on both cheeks, and she felt a rush of emotion. Not seeming to notice, George led the way to his study. He asked her to sit down and took his seat on the other side of the desk. Carla felt a little dejected; she had hoped for a more intimate welcome. Rebuking herself silently, she thought,
What’s your problem? You told him you needed time.
Maybe it’s all true. I’m living in a fantasy. He really doesn’t care.
These thoughts made her feel ill, but she couldn’t dispel the hopeful feeling in her belly.

Sunil was smiling from ear to ear when he saw her and brought her a cup of tea. George was studying her with a peculiar expression on his face. Then, smiling as if nothing had occurred in the past forty-eight hours, he said, “You look great. Are you well rested?”

His compliment caused her heart to skip a beat, but she answered him with composure she didn’t feel. “Yes, I did, thanks. You must be bushed. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

He smiled and said, “Later. I was busy and still am with all these official reports. I had to include you in my report, but you’re free to go. You are officially not a CIA asset anymore. Happy?”

Carla nodded and found that she was somehow disappointed. But she dismissed the notion almost as quickly as it had surfaced.

“Any news about Harry?”

“He’s in custody; the CIA’s debriefing him. I saw him last night, and he’s holding out all right. How’s Elouise?”

“Worried. Tearful. Please don’t let her suffer. Keep her posted; I know you can trust her. What about Nazeema? Do you know where they’ve taken her?”

“For now, into protective custody. Then she’ll be sent to a secure home where they’ll try to rehabilitate her. It looks like she’s been on heroin maintenance for the past three weeks or more.”

“And then?”

“This is where your testimony will come in handy. You’ll have to testify in a special classified hearing that she was coerced against her will into becoming a suicide bomber. It’s pretty serious, as her vest would’ve caused major damage. She was carrying seven kilos of Caesium-137, a major radioactive isotope in that ‘pregnant’ belly. To date, we’ve never had a dirty bomb explode, so how much radiation and damage seven kilos of Caesium-137 causes is debatable. The shrapnel was also pretty hectic. I’m convinced they would have succeeded in assassinating one or both of their targets.”

“I still can’t believe all of this.”

“You’re the hero. I’m sure the president of the United States will thank you personally.”

Laughing, Carla said, “Oh please, it was pure luck, a reflex. You must know I grew up with three cricketer brothers who tossed that ball around me nonstop.”

George laughed, and then in a serious tone he asked, “Are you going to hang around for a little while longer?”

Carla hesitated momentarily. “I don’t know. Andrew came to see me this morning and asked me to go back to London with him. He wants us to leave tonight, but I’m not sure.”

George’s face was serious when he said, “Please don’t believe everything Andrew tells you about me, Carla. He has somehow got it into his head that I had you kidnapped and rescued just to gain your trust. It’s not true. Admittedly, I was interested in meeting you and possibly gleaning information about Harry while you were a guest of theirs, but I never meant to put your life in danger. I swear.”

“And our relationship, was it part of the plan?” Carla felt her heart beating hard, but her voice was steady.

“In a way, but I didn’t expect to develop such strong feelings for you, Carla.” His voice was warm and sincere, and Carla felt her heart miss a couple of beats.

She was searching for the right words to explain how she felt. The little flicker of hope was burning brighter, and as she was about to reply, someone knocked on the door. She turned around and saw a beautiful, dark-haired woman dressed casually in khaki shorts and a white blouse. Her dark hair lay in luxurious layers over her shoulders. “Oh hi, I didn’t realize you had company,” she said in a thick Italian accent.

George stood up and smiled. “Valentina, please come in. I would like you to meet Carla. Remember, I told you about her.”

Valentina walked up to Carla and shook her hand, saying, “How wonderful to meet you, and thank you for helping us.”

Of course, Valentina Nesi, the Italian woman who worked for the Trafficking Protocol,
Carla remembered. She smiled and said, “Nice to meet you, Valentina. I do admire what you’re trying to do.”

“Thank you,” Valentina acknowledged graciously. Looking at George she said, “I see that you are busy. I’m going to the Imperial Hotel for a massage. Can I ask Kamal to drop me off?”

Walking around his desk toward her, George said, “Of course, I’ll just call him.” He left the study and walked toward the kitchen.

Valentina smiled again and kissed Carla on both cheeks. “Ciao, Carla, and I hope to meet you soon again.”

“Yes, me too,” Carla said. As she breathed in through her nose, she recognized the perfume Valentina was wearing. It was the same limited-edition Chanel perfume she wore. “I have the same perfume,” Carla said.

“It’s gorgeous; I love it. It makes me feel like a principessa Indiana.” Valentina left the study and waved. Carla sat down and waited for George.

He returned and said, “OK, so where were we?”

“Is Valentina staying here with you?” Carla asked, trying her best not to sound too peeved.

“Yes, for a few days. She has some work with an organization here.”

Something was bothering Carla like a memory or dream playing on the fringes of her mind. That evening, after she recovered from her ordeal, she had smelled that perfume on George.
Oh my God, it must have been Valentina. George is sleeping with her. And me.
Carla felt sick; the bitter taste of bile stuck in the back of her throat.
What was I thinking? He doesn’t care for me. I was just another “asset” to bed.

“Carla! What’s going on? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Frowning, she tried to gather her thoughts and control her emotions. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m leaving tonight. You have my e-mail and phone number, so when I’m needed to testify or whatever, just let me know, OK?”

George, looking bewildered, said, “Oh, I see. Um, of course. I’ll contact you. Are you sure you’re fit to fly?”

She stood up and, forcing herself to smile, walked around the desk to him and kissed him quickly on both cheeks. He stood up, but before he could say anything, she was on her phone, calling Om Prakash, asking him to pick her up. She hung up and walked to the front with George trailing behind her. He looked like he was in shock and at a total loss for words. Om Prakash was there within minutes.

George opened the door for her, and as Carla got in, she said, “Well then, cheers, George. It was fun.”

A despondent look on his face made her look away so that he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

“Where to, Madam?” Om Prakash asked politely.

“Take me to Elouise Madam’s travel agent. I have to confirm a flight.”

Watching Carla leave, George experienced an aching loss, an unbearable void like a physical pain. He caught himself breathing fast and shallow, fully aware that for the first time in his life he was having a panic attack. He didn’t want to lose her. He couldn’t lose her. George Alexander, ordinarily calm and contained, did not have a single idea on how to persuade Carla to stay.

Jolted from his thoughts by a call from Valentina’s girlfriend, he answered it and walked back to his study. “Buon giorno, Eva. Yes, I’m well, thank you.”

Eva, Valentina’s lover for the past ten years, said she hadn’t been able to reach her for two days and asked if she was back in Delhi.

“Yes, she arrived early this morning. Her flight was delayed from Kabul. She’s not here right now; she’s gone for a massage at the Imperial Hotel’s spa.” He promised to ask Valentina to call her back later.

Exhausted, he sat down on the leather armchair in his study and closed his eyes, trying his best not to think of Carla.