Eli saw that the Opel with Allen and Hedron had pulled into the driveway of what looked like a very expensive hotel, and, after a brief hesitation, he said yes. Thanking the driver, Eli paid him with a healthy tip. Then he grabbed his duffel and backpack and bolted from the car. His quarries were extricating themselves from their own vehicle with the help of a bellman at the hotel entrance.
This gave Eli a moment to edge closer while doing his best to avoid cow shit and one of the skinny, rat-like dogs that darted forward to snatch up a bit of food-covered trash. It also offered him a bit of information—that Hedron seemed to have luggage of his own. Until now, Eli hadn’t been certain whether Hedron was in the airport meeting Allen Schleuter or if he had flown in as well.
Maybe the two men didn’t really know each other, and they were simply sharing a cab like Eli had thought to do. Either way, Eli decided he was going to book a room at the same hotel.
Since his trip had been so last-minute and he wasn’t exactly sure where he was supposed to meet Marina, he hadn’t made any specific arrangements. He’d just gotten himself to India, and soon he’d be getting himself to Leh—which was the capital city in Ladakh and had the best airport in the area. Whether or not he actually met up with Marina was one thing—although he certainly intended to—but his main purpose was to find the “guy” named Manish who’d told Patty Denke about the bee.
If he hadn’t seen Hedron, Eli would have already booked his flight to Leh. But he couldn’t leave New Delhi without at least trying to find out what the man was doing here.
Once again leaving a healthy distance between himself and his quarries, Eli wove through the throngs of people and followed them into the hotel. As he did so, he reflected on just how he was going to go about learning what Hedron was up to. The best option would be to try to “run into” Allen when he was alone and pump the guy for information.
But first he was going to check in and find something cooler to wear. And he was wildly hungry. The smell of food cooking outside had been enticing even with the underlying eau de shit and petroleum; now that he was walking up to the hotel (which was already slightly cooler thanks to the many ceiling fans on the roof of the exterior colonnade), he could smell their kitchens, and his stomach gurgled expectantly.
Eli’s plan took a nosedive when he actually walked into the lobby of the hotel and saw the place. It was opulent and gorgeous, with four-story ceilings in the lobby, gilt and mahogany furnishings he would be afraid to touch let alone sit on, and boat-sized fresh flower arrangements everywhere. Stunning crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling all along the front of the desk, and huge potted citrus trees were incorporated into every chair and table arrangement. There was a massive glass Buddha in the middle of the room with its own dome upholstered in red and gold brocade hanging from the ceiling above him. The statue’s base was clear and contained a light that sent a glow up into the figure.
There was no way Eli could afford to stay here. But he walked up to the counter anyway, figuring he might overhear something from his quarries while he bullshitted his way through a conversation with the clerk.
But to his surprise, the cost for a room at the place was only a few dollars more than he’d spent at the hotel in Cincinnati. Figuring he might as well live in style at least one night while he was here—since if he went to Ladakh he’d be pretty close to roughing it—Eli whipped out his credit card.
He kept his eyes on Allen and Hedron the whole time he continued the check-in process, trying to see what information he could glean from hand gestures as they checked in a few stations away from his. Since the two men were waited on by different clerks, Eli concluded they were getting separate rooms and were not on the same bill.
They all finished their business around the same time, and Eli hung back as the two men started for the elevators, then eased closer in an effort to pick up their conversation. He kept his head down, pretending to look at his phone as he followed them, and caught just enough of a conversation to hear “Leh.”
Holy crap. This could not be a coincidence.
Eli pretended not to notice when the elevator arrived and the two men stepped on…but then at the last moment, he dove inside and turned so he faced the front of the elevator, still seemingly intent on his phone.
His heart pounded violently as he stared at the closed elevator doors. He was, after all, in a closed space with a man who’d tried to kill him. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he realized he couldn’t see what was going on behind him, but the two men were talking as if nothing was out of order. Allen would be more likely to recognize him, since they’d sat next to each other on the plane, but, Eli realized with a modicum of relief, he’d taken off his overshirt and added a hat to his attire, so he didn’t look the same at first glance. Hopefully Allen wouldn’t recognize his ratty feet bared by the Birkenstocks.
Eli remembered belatedly to touch the number for his floor, but it was already lit. Two numbers were lit…which meant he was going to be on the same floor as Allen or Hedron.
Madre de Dios, as his mother would have said.
“…tomorrow morning,” said Hedron in excellent English accented with Russian. “The flight to Leh is just ninety minutes, and then we travel by car to the meeting place—an hour or so. The water minister will meet us there with the contracts you’ve already reviewed.”
Allen replied, “I have the contracts with me. I’ll be signing those. I don’t trust them to have the most updated version.”
“As you like,” Hedron replied. “Ah, eleven. This is my floor.”
Eli felt a wave of relief that it wasn’t the fourteenth floor, where he was staying.
“I’m going to settle in and then get something to eat,” said Allen as the elevator lurched to a halt. “At the bar downstairs. Join me?”
“No, thank you. I’ve got some work to finish up,” Hedron replied as the doors slid open.
Eli scooted to the side to let him pass, then returned his attention to the screen of his mobile phone. He wasn’t ready for Allen to recognize him yet.
Two floors later, the elevator stopped on fourteen and Eli fairly bolted through the doors as soon as they opened. He strode down the hall, leaving Allen in his wake, then turned at the first corner and listened to see if he could hear where the other man was going.
Footsteps came closer, ceased, and then Eli heard the click of a lock and the sound of a door opening. He peeked around the corner and pinned the location of Allen’s room with his eyes so he could get the number later.
Then, having finished playing James Bond, he went about finding his own room. It wasn’t until he slipped inside that he realized his knees were a little wobbly.
What the hell were the chances?
And what did all of this mean?
Thirty-Nine
Eli was sitting in the hotel bar for only ten minutes before Allen Schleuter meandered in.
He’d chosen a table with a view of the entire room as well as a scope of the broad, tall gallery that connected the hotel lobby to the bar. Though Hedron had indicated he would stay in his room, Eli was taking no chances on a surprise appearance.
“Allen? Is that you?” he called out. “What are the chances?” he added, giving a little laugh as the older man looked toward him.
Allen smiled and gave a friendly wave. He was carrying a slender briefcase. “Mind if I join you? It’s nice to see a familiar face. I was going to do some work, but it can wait.” Allen took a seat across from Eli and set his briefcase on the empty chair next to him.
“I looked for you in the terminal after customs, but I didn’t see you,” Eli lied as the wallah came over to take Allen’s order. Eli already had a plate loaded with a variety of chaat topped with every imaginable delicacy—shrimp salad, steak tartare, lobster bits, savory dal, spicy tofu, creamy vegetables, and more—along with an array of chutneys. He’d been enjoying every bite. The spicy coconut mint on the steak tartare was his favorite combination so far. “If I had know
n, we could have shared a cab.”
“I’m here with a business associate,” Allen told him after ordering a gin and tonic and being assured that the ice cubes were made from “triple-boiled water.” “We’re heading to a place in the middle of nowhere tomorrow—Ladakh. Way up in the mountains right by the Himalayas. Nothing up there but mountains and goats. Figured I better enjoy my creature comforts while I can,” he added with a laugh. “Get out of the monsoons up there too—or so they say.”
Eli hesitated, then plunged onward. Best to have established his presence now than have Allen wonder about it. “That’s a hell of a coincidence, because I’m flying to Leh tomorrow—that’s up that way too.” Too late, he realized he might have set himself up for a problem if Allen suggested he and his business partner might meet up with Eli during travel or while there. Damn. He wasn’t all that good at this espionage stuff, was he?
Allen was surprised. “What are you going to be doing up there?” A hint of suspicion lit his eyes, and Eli realized he had to backtrack, and quickly.
“Oh, a graduate student of mine has been working on a project up there—her thesis is about”—oh, shit, oh, shit, what would make sense?—“a, uh, Coleopteroid—I mean, a beetle—that lives at high altitudes.” Eli realized too late that he dared not mention a bee, but he also had to keep to something he could talk about comfortably. Stick as close to the truth as possible, right? “This species is very unusual due to the number of ocelli—it has three, if you can believe it. And its elytra—the hard covering, which is like an outer wing that protects the under, or hindwing—is quite distinct in that it contains elements of copper.” He purposely rambled on with boring, specific details about the insect—which happened to be the deadly copper beetle he’d gotten to know so intimately in the Amazon—so that Allen’s eyes would glaze over.
Before that actually happened, the wallah appeared with Allen’s drink and some chakri—which were like flat, savory spiral cookies—thus interrupting Eli’s lecture and allowing him to change the topic. “What are you doing up in Leh?” he asked.
“Business,” replied Allen, then took a big drink of the gin and tonic. He smiled and sighed with gusto. “Ah, I needed that.”
Eli lifted an eyebrow. “What sort of business is there for a water-bottling company— Oh, let me guess… Fresh Himalayan water springs, right?” He grinned, and was surprised when Allen gave him a direct look. It was not a pleasant one.
“Who told you that?” Allen put down his drink and pinned Eli with a hard gaze.
Shocked by such an overreaction, Eli shrugged and said, “It was just an educated guess—and mostly a joke. What else would interest a bottled-water company CEO in the mountains?” He chuckled.
Allen seemed to relax a little, but Eli definitely felt suspicion continuing to emanate from him as the food arrived.
“It’s confidential,” Allen said after the wallah left.
“Oh, sorry,” Eli said. “Corporate secrets and all that? I guess I never imagined bottled-water companies would have such big secrets to protect.” He laughed and took a drink of the ice-cold beer, bottled, not draft, that he’d been enjoying.
“You’d be surprised,” Allen replied with a wry smile.
Eli shrugged and decided it was best to leave the topic…but at the same time, he was even more curious. What on earth would be so proprietary about bottled water? Something so confidential could only be the source of said water, but water was water, wasn’t it?
Mountain springs and so on…what was the big deal?
He turned the topic to the food in front of them, and they raved about the variety, the presentation, and, of course, the taste of their respective meals. Allen ordered a second G&T, and Eli wondered how many of them—along with certain jet lag—would make the man’s tongue loose enough to spill a few more secrets. The water CEO had downed the first one pretty quickly.
Eli decided to hang tight and try to find out, but he kept his eyes on the entrance to the bar to make certain Hedron didn’t come wandering in.
He kept the conversation on other things—their respective flights from the United States (it seemed Allen had come in from Pittsburgh on his way to Paris), the crazy drive from the airport, and the comforts of the hotel.
“There was a bumper sticker on one of the trucks,” Eli said. “It said ‘Tootle Your Horn, Yes Please!’ I guess everyone was listening, because no one ever stopped honking their horns.” He chuckled, thinking about the cacophony.
“Did you see the sign posted—I don’t remember where it was; on one of the streets here in Delhi—that read ‘Do Not Urinate Here,’” Allen said. His eyes were a little glassy, and Eli had counted four gin and tonics, with a fifth having just been placed in front of him. “It was just right there on the street! And there was a guy who whipped it out right next to the sign and was peeing right there in front of everyone. It would have been a great photo—the guy peeing right there in the middle of the street, next to the sign that says not to pee there.” He gave a wheezy laugh and took another big gulp of gin and tonic. “I sure hope they weren’t lying about the ice cubes being triple-boiled water,” he said, looking at the glass. “Because otherwise I’m fucked.”
“I’m sure the ice and water are both safe, being served in a place like this,” Eli said, then he winked. “But I really think if your company doesn’t have the contract to supply water here, they should get working on it.”
Allen laughed and pointed his finger at Eli. “You’re damned right! I need to speak to a manager!” he said. “There might be a better opportunity in the near future, you know,” he said in a lower voice, waving off the bar wallah who’d looked over at them in question when Allen had raised his voice. “Once these contracts are signed.” He patted the briefcase on the seat next to him.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” replied Eli, suddenly very interested in the contents of that briefcase. How the hell was he going to get a look at them? “Another round?” he asked, gesturing to the wallah.
“Sure, why not? I’m on vacation!” said Allen expansively. “At least until tomorrow, when I have to play the cutthroat CEO. I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight, let me tell you…”
Six gin and tonics over less than ninety minutes had Allen’s words slurring quite a bit by now, but even though Eli tried to gently introduce the topic of business, Allen continued to evade it.
At last, Allen decided he was done and called for the wallah to bring their tabs. He rose a little unsteadily after signing off on his room bill. “Nice seeing you again—what was your name?”
“Eli. Good luck with your—uh—business. Maybe I’ll see you in the airport in Leh.” I’ll make sure of it—and that you don’t see me.
“Right,” said Allen, patting his suit coat pocket as if to ensure he had his wallet and room key. “Don’t forget not to urinate there!” he added with a chortle, and then he toddled off.
Leaving his briefcase forgotten on the chair.
Forty
Eli hesitated only for a moment. He’d been creeping a look at the bar bill so he could get Allen’s room number.
He’d actually been entertaining the idea of breaking into the room while the CEO was snoring his brains out after the drinks and jet lag—it wasn’t that difficult, as Eli had cause to know from his research online about breaking into hotel rooms after the incident in Cincinnati.
But this plan was much, much better and less likely to get him arrested.
Eli swiftly snatched up the briefcase and hurried from the bar. If anyone saw him, they could attest to the fact that he was on his way to hail Allen and return the briefcase.
But once he got outside the restaurant, he ducked behind a huge column and turned to opening the briefcase, praying it wasn’t locked.
It wasn’t.
He didn’t have time to look at everything now—surely it wouldn’t take Allen long before he realized he’d left it.
Eli looked in the direction of the elevators, but Allen wasn’
t in sight. Hopefully he was already on his way up to the fourteenth floor, which gave Eli some time. Then he looked around more and saw the sign: Business Center. Perfect.
He hurried over to the glass-doored suite and went inside. The copy machines were right there, self-serve with a credit card, thank goodness.
Quickly, he opened the briefcase on a worktable next to the machines and thumbed through its contents. Travel docs, itineraries—that was good; he tossed that onto the machine and hit copy—and then a manila file folder. It was labeled CONFIDENTIAL.
This had to be it. He opened the folder to find contracts. Yes.
Removing the staple while eyeing the lobby through the glass doors, Eli felt his pulse shoot to high speed when he saw Allen step out of the elevator.
Shit.
He shoved the contracts onto the copy machine and pressed go. Hurry, hurry, hurry…
The machine was as fast as the hotel was luxurious, and he had the copies in seconds. He watched Allen as he toddled away from the elevators, and Eli realized he was going in the wrong direction for the bar. Not a surprise—the hotel was huge and Allen was impaired.
Still, Eli didn’t waste time as he stapled the original contract back together then replaced it in its folder with the original travel itinerary on top. His heart was still pounding wildly as he hurried out of the business center and back into the lobby, folding his copies in half and then in half again before shoving them into the cargo pants pocket low on the side of his thigh.
“Allen!” he called when he saw the CEO in the lobby. He had obviously realized he was going in the wrong direction and was now heading toward the bar. Allen turned and looked at him owlishly. “There you are!” Eli said as he rushed toward him, brandishing the briefcase. “You left this behind.”
Sanskrit Cipher: A Marina Alexander Adventure Page 26
