Читаем The Mountain Shadow полностью

‘Wonderful,’ he said softly. ‘It was just one more little test. I hope you will forgive me. I am deprived of subjects.’

‘What is this, Tuareg? You invite me into your home, and now I need a safe word just to talk to you?’

‘No, no, let me go on. There was a businessman who owed the Company protection money, and wouldn’t pay. He was making a case for extortion, in the court, and a lot of noise for Sanjay. Abdullah was with the Irishman, when they fixed the problem. It is for him to tell you what transpired there. What I can tell you, is that it was a very bad affair.’

‘What has this got to do with the girl?’

Lisa. Lisa. I couldn’t bring myself to speak her name, in the Tuareg’s hive.

‘That is something only one other knows.’

‘Something you don’t know?’

‘Something I don’t know . . . yet.’

He looked at me. I think he liked my company. I’m still not sure what that said about me.

‘You know what a secret is, Shantaram?’ he asked, the wriggle of his smile twitching his long grey beard.

‘Something you don’t tell me?’ I replied, hopefully.

‘A secret is a truth untold,’ he said. ‘And Abdullah has been keeping this a secret from you, and I know that, because I asked him, just yesterday.’

‘Why did you ask him?’

‘Nice question,’ he said. ‘What made you ask it?’

‘Stop it, Tuareg, please. Why did you ask him about me? Was it because this is connected to my girlfriend?’

‘This Irishman, Concannon, knows that Abdullah loves you. He thinks that Abdullah told you about the murder they committed together. That gives him two reasons to kill you. The twenty-four-hour contract on your life was not a joke. It was a serious attempt on your life. He meant to kill you, to make Abdullah suffer, and he means to kill Abdullah.’

‘I understand, Tuareg. And thanks. Where can I find him?’

He laughed again. I was hoping he’d explain the joke. I was sitting in an archway, among an infinite array of archways, and I was so levitationally stoned on the hookah pipe that my legs were jellyfish.

‘There are only two kinds of people in this world,’ he said, smiling easily for the first time, ‘those who use, and those who are used.’

I was thinking that there were probably lots of different kinds of people, and certainly more than two, but I figured that he was actually talking about something else: the reason why he’d called me to his house.

‘I’m guessing that this information is gonna cost me something,’ I said.

‘I want a favour in return, it is true,’ he said. ‘But it is one that you will be willing to grant, I believe.’

‘How willing?’

‘I want everything you know, and come to learn, about Ranjit Choudhry.’

‘Why?’

‘I want to take him into my custody, before anyone else does.’

‘Your custody?’

‘Yes, at a facility, not far away from here.’

Sometimes, Fate gives you a handful of sand, and promises that if you squeeze it hard enough, it’ll turn to gold.

‘You know, Tuareg,’ I said, preparing my jellyfish legs to stand, ‘thanks for the offer, but I’ll find the Irishman, and Ranjit, on my own.’

‘Wait,’ the Tuareg said. ‘I’m sorry. It was my last little test. I promise. I’m finished. Would you like to know the results of my study on you today?’

‘I told you. I didn’t come here as a subject.’

‘Of course,’ he laughed, pulling me down beside him again. ‘Please, stay, and have another cup of hot tea, before you leave.’

Cousins and nephews cleared the dishes, and brought a new samovar of hot tea.

‘You must forgive me,’ the Tuareg said. ‘If you don’t, it will have me in analysis for a year.’

I laughed.

‘No, seriously,’ he said, looking at me earnestly. ‘You must forgive me.’

‘You’re forgiven,’ I said.

‘I don’t feel forgiven,’ he said. ‘Are you really forgiving me?’

‘Come on, Tuareg, who the hell am I to forgive anyone?’

‘Close enough,’ he said. ‘And thank you. In a strictly commercial sense, no tests involved, I’m in a position to pay you a considerable sum for a . . . private interview with Ranjit Choudhry.’

‘Attractive and all as that sounds . . . ’ I began, but he cut me off.

‘There are two families, of aggrieved daughters, who will pay us handsomely if Ranjit is in my hands.’

‘No.’

‘I understand,’ he said softly. ‘And that’s a test I didn’t even consider. Thank you. I have enjoyed this very much. Here is the address of the Irishman.’

He slipped a small sheet of paper from his cuff, and passed it to me.

‘Tonight, the Irishman will be in the company of only one or two men. He will be vulnerable. Tonight, at midnight, is the time to strike.’

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘But I’m not handing Ranjit over to you, Tuareg, if I find him.’

‘That’s clear. Do you need help, to kidnap the Irishman?’

‘I don’t want to kidnap him. I want to make him reconsider his options.’

‘Oh, I see. Then, may Allah be with you, and let us smoke one last bowl.’

‘You know, I really should be going.’

‘Oh, please! Stay, for one more pipe.’

Cousins and nephews replaced the old hookah pipe with a new one, filled with pure Himalayan water, they told me, and then filled the pipe with pure Himalayan herb.