Книга - Fury’s Goddess

Fury's Goddess
Alex Archer


On the outskirts of the recently developed and prosperous city of Hyderabad, India, a new and luxurious housing complex has arisen. But several residents have been found brutally murdered. Some believe the killer is a rogue tiger. Others whisper that it is the work of the servants of Kali, the Hindu goddess of death.Her feet are barely on Indian soil when archaeologist Annja Creed finds herself swept up in Hyderabad's modern prosperity. But something about the recent spate of killings seems unusual and Annja begins to dig deep for answers. Instead, she finds herself taken prisoner and held in a maze of ancient caves. She's being held captive by a cult of thieves who are under the thrall of a charismatic leader.In only a few short hours, Annja is to be sacrificed–unless she can channel the vengeance of the goddess Kali herself….







A dark goddess. An ancient cult. And a dangerous zealot...

On the outskirts of the recently developed and prosperous city of Hyderabad, India, a new and luxurious housing complex has arisen. But several residents have been found brutally murdered. Some believe the killer is a rogue tiger. Others whisper that it is the work of the servants of Kali, the Hindu goddess of death.

Her feet are barely on Indian soil when archaeologist Annja Creed finds herself swept up in Hyderabad’s modern prosperity. But something about the recent spate of killings seems unusual and Annja begins to dig deep for answers. Instead, she finds herself taken prisoner and held in a maze of ancient caves. She’s being held captive by a cult of thieves who are under the thrall of a charismatic leader.

In only a few short hours, Annja is to be sacrificed—unless she can channel the vengeance of the goddess Kali herself....


There was a sudden explosion of light

The first thing Annja saw after her eyes adjusted was a blue figure emblazoned in front of her. A statue. Annja caught herself as she recognized who it was.

Kali.

The goddess of death.

The statue had four arms, each wielding a different weapon. And the red eyes were supposed to suggest a certain level of intoxication, a bloodlust resulting from one of Kali’s many battles.

Kali was a ferocious deity.

What the hell had Annja stumbled onto here?

The torches that had sprung to life glowed hot, casting long shadows across the chamber, but also giving enough illumination for Annja to finally see the men who held them captive. Her first impression was that there weren’t nearly as many of them as she’d thought there’d been in the darkness. Only a dozen or so. All chanting.

And they looked as ferocious as their goddess Kali. Slowly, each man reached up and undid the length of black cloth that covered their faces. These scarves, knotted at each end, were handled with a degree of reverence Annja found amazing. The captors tucked them into their belts, the two knotted ends dangling over, as if ready to be drawn quickly. Perhaps they were weapons.

Thuggee. The thought struck her hard. Except…

Except that cult was supposed to have been wiped out ages ago.


Fury’s Goddess

Alex Archer




















www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)


The Legend

...The English commander took Joan’s sword and raised it high.

The broadsword, plain and unadorned, gleamed in the firelight. He put the tip against the ground and his foot at the center of the blade. The broadsword shattered, fragments falling into the mud. The crowd surged forward, peasant and soldier, and snatched the shards from the trampled mud. The commander tossed the hilt deep into the crowd.

Smoke almost obscured Joan, but she continued praying till the end, until finally the flames climbed her body and she sagged against the restraints.

Joan of Arc died that fateful day in France, but her legend and sword are reborn....


Special thanks and acknowledgment to Jon Merz for his contribution to this work.


Contents

Chapter 1 (#uaba2653d-5ea2-5ef7-b587-050fba03d19c)

Chapter 2 (#u694798ed-3995-592d-a80f-148648d5c0a5)

Chapter 3 (#u991890f5-4609-510c-8df7-6f2b6d1ea1b3)

Chapter 4 (#u351cec94-37df-5810-909b-16db511a7f23)

Chapter 5 (#u1c9cbfac-2405-5981-ae95-8db074bf666a)

Chapter 6 (#u551fd946-ae43-586b-91a7-f2427f9e9cb0)

Chapter 7 (#u54553d87-ac94-5161-b05b-b3a9ecb600ad)

Chapter 8 (#u3599ade8-09c0-5362-92f4-1be717e7ad0b)

Chapter 9 (#ubd8e1927-bce3-55d8-ab35-e1eecdb717ec)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 33 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 34 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 35 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 36 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 37 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 38 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 39 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 40 (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter 1



“Maybe it’s a tiger,” Annja Creed said as she perused the latest police reports on her iPad. The translated reports had been emailed over to her as she flew from New York City to India. And she was now looking at grisly pictures of mutilated bodies that had been recovered, some of them partially eaten. The remains of Annja’s in-flight meal were on the tray in front of her. But somehow, the limp turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich on stale wheat bread no longer seemed very appetizing.

If it ever had, Annja thought.

“Don’t tigers tend to eat everything?” Frank asked. “Some of those bodies just look, well, sort of…picked at.”

Annja looked at the big man seated next to her. His innocence seemed to be waning fast. Frank Desalvo was fresh off his stint as an intern at another cable channel and had landed the job of cameraman on this assignment. The program Annja worked on, Chasing History’s Monsters, had snapped Frank up for his keen eye, the producers had said. Annja suspected it was because he wasn’t established enough to command a higher salary.

He was likable enough, even if he still had the arrogance of a young twentysomething. With a mop of black hair and wide brown eyes, his splotchy beard made him look a few years older than he was. Annja figured he wore a beard for that reason.

“Not necessarily, although I’m not exactly an expert on man-eating tigers,” she said. “They may not have been hungry enough to devour the entire body. Or perhaps they were simply defending their territory.”

She continued to scan through the reports. “Whatever the case, the locals are terrified and the police haven’t been able to track or trap the offender.”

“Which makes for great television.”

Annja frowned. “It means more people might lose their lives.”

“Well, sure. But at least it’s nobody we know, right? That makes it easier.”

Annja came across one very gory picture and thrust the iPad in front of Frank. “You think this is any easier for the family of this person?”

Frank blanched visibly. “I guess not.”

“Try to remember that the stories we cover are about people, just the same as you and me. They’re not objects. We can’t disconnect from them. There’s too much of that going on in the world as it is, all right?”

“You’re the boss.”

Annja nodded. “Yes, I am.”

She took a breath and went back to reading. There had been three deaths so far. Two men and a woman. All residents of a new luxury complex on the outskirts of Hyderabad, India’s sixth most populous city.

Annja started surfing the net to find out more about the city she and Frank would be heading into. After several minutes, she started forming a picture of the place in her mind and found herself getting more excited all the time.

Hyderabad was only about five hundred years old, although recent archaeological excavations had uncovered settlements dating back to the Iron Age, around 500 BC.

I would have enjoyed being on those digs, she thought.

Hyderabad enjoyed a hot summer, a very moist monsoon season and a delightful winter between late October and early February. Annja was relieved they were going to be in the city during the winter. She’d had enough of monsoon seasons of late, and a hot summer didn’t appeal much to her, either.

With 3.6 million living in the city or its outskirts, Hyderabad certainly had plenty of potential victims for a rogue tiger to choose from. Except locals had reported hearing something that didn’t sound like a tiger at all, but a mysterious creature that sounded as if it was part cat and part wolf.

The combination had aroused the intense curiosity of Chasing History’s Monsters, and naturally, Annja was dispatched to find out the truth.

But in a city as cosmopolitan as Hyderabad, was there any place a mysterious rampaging creature could hide? Or was it a case of mistaken identity or some psychopath covering his tracks by making his victims appear to have been attacked by a wild animal?

Annja went back to reading while Frank flirted with the flight attendant. Hyderabad’s primary industries were split among real estate, pharmaceuticals, information technology, tourism and filmmaking. She found that last part intriguing. She’d heard of Bollywood before, but Hyderabad apparently had Tollywood, after the major film production complex located at Telugu Cinema. Annja paused. What if someone at Tollywood was getting especially imaginative with the props department?

“Annja.”

She glanced up. Frank wore a grin a mile long. “What?”

“I think I’m in love.”

“Again?” Frank had been working hard to seduce anyone with breasts the entire flight, having declared at the start of their journey his intention to join the Mile-High Club the first chance he got.

So far, his membership application had been soundly denied.

“Yeah, but this is the one.” Frank nodded. “I’m telling you.” He unbuckled his seat belt and stood. Pausing, he leaned over Annja. “Don’t wait up, okay?”

“Sure thing, Casanova.” She watched him amble off down the main aisle toward the lavatories.

There’s somebody for everyone, she thought with a grin. Frank wasn’t ugly, per se, but there wasn’t much to write home about.

Delving back into her iPad, she learned that Hyderabad’s film community had the largest IMAX theater in Asia and a host of cutting-edge technology. She frowned. The sort of technology that could distort images and make people think they were seeing something when, in fact, they were not.

Interesting.

She went back to the police reports. According to the cops, the first case had come in sometime around ten o’clock only a few weeks prior to Annja’s trip. Sanjeet Gupta had been taking a walk around the residential complex and had not come home. A phone call from a distraught wife brought the police running even though only a few hours had passed since the husband was last seen. They conducted a search and came across Gupta’s body lying facedown near a culvert. His arm and part of his upper torso had been torn away, resulting in massive blood loss. Part of his face had been gnawed off, according to the medical examiner.

She glanced back at her quick facts on the residential complex. It catered to the extremely wealthy. The top niche of Hyderabad’s social elite seemed to live in the complex. No wonder the police responded so quickly, she thought. The rich always get preferential treatment.

There was a click overhead and the public address system came on. The flight attendant started talking in what Annja thought was Hindi, but then went on to repeat her announcement in several other dialects. Annja was reminded of the fact that while Urdu and Hindi might be the popular languages of India, regional dialects ranged extensively.

At last, the attendant switched to British-accented English. “Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has advised that we are starting our descent into Hyderabad. At this time, we would like to ask you to shut off all electronic devices, put your trays into their upright position and make sure to remain in your seats with the seat belts on at all times.”

She clicked the PA system off; almost on cue, the plane started to bank. Annja gripped the armrests at the suddenness of the movement.

And then they dipped lower. Annja heard the flaps coming down.

Where was Frank?

She found out a moment later when the door to the bathroom opened and he stumbled out, a wet stain across the front of his pants. Lovely.

He clambered down the aisle and slumped back into his seat. “So,” Annja said, not really wanting to know, “was it everything you hoped it would be?”

Frank frowned. “They don’t make airplane bathrooms all that large, do they?”

“No, they do not.”

He sighed. “Stupid cable channels always make it look better than it is in real life.”

“They’re in the business of selling fantasy.”

“She never showed, anyway.”

“But your clothes—”

Frank held up his hand. “The damn plane banked and I nearly felt into the vacuum toilet. I got blue stuff all over me. So I had to wash it out of my pants.” He sighed. “I’m not exactly a professional when it comes to dry cleaning.”

“Looks more like you did wet cleaning.”

“Funny.” Frank grabbed a copy of the in-flight magazine and started fanning himself. “So, you really think this thing isn’t a tiger?”

“I don’t know. That’s what we’re here to find out.”

“Where to first?”

“The hotel,” she said. “I want a shower after flying for so many hours. After a change of clothes and a quick meal, we’ll head downtown and talk to the police.”

Below them sprawled the city of Hyderabad—gleaming office buildings and brilliantly painted temples. Annja leaned back away from the window and nodded thoughtfully.

“If the police haven’t gotten anywhere with the case, then we’ll try to find this creature ourselves. And that means going into harm’s way.”


Chapter 2



“Customs line is over this way,” Annja said as they made their way down the concourse.

She presented her passport and visa to the customs official, a stern-looking older man with a bushy beard. His eyes seemed as sharp as a hawk’s and he scanned Annja quickly before eyeballing Frank.

Annja saw the contempt in his face. He quickly cleared Annja and then frowned as he looked at Frank. “Your papers, please.”

Frank handed them over and the customs official scanned them. But unlike with Annja, he didn’t hand them back. “What brings you to India?”

“Huh?” Frank was still fanning his crotch. Annja groaned inwardly. The customs official glanced over his counter and saw the stain on Frank’s pants. When his eyes came back up, Annja saw irritation in them.

Uh-oh.

“We hit some turbulence on the plane and I…unfortunately…got a bit wet,” Frank stammered.

“So it would appear.” But there was nothing friendly in the way he said it. Annja dearly wished for a hole to curl up in until this was over.

“He’s with me, actually,” she said. She smiled to show how harmless she was. But the official’s frown told her he wasn’t in the mood to be nice.

“And why are you coming to India?”

“We’re members of an American television show. We’re here to do some research on a spate of recent crimes in Hyderabad.”

His eyes narrowed. “Which crimes are you referring to?”

“The attacks on residents in the new development on the outskirts of the city.”

“Is that so?” He stared at Frank for what seemed like a very long time. Frank shifted back and forth uncomfortably. Annja willed him to stand still.

The customs official looked back at her. “And what does this…man do for your television show? Urinate in his pants?”

“I didn’t urinate on myself,” Frank snapped. Annja winced.

“I think,” the customs official said, “that perhaps we should talk in another area of the airport.”

Annja groaned. An interrogation. Great. In the country for all of twenty minutes and we’re already suspected criminals.

Swell. God knew how long they were going to be treated like would-be terrorists, but Annja guessed it would be some time before they were able to get to their hotel and unwind.

“That will not be necessary,” said a man with a voice that was deep and rich, like dark chocolate poured over velvet.

Annja turned and found herself staring into the dark brown eyes of man in a well-tailored three-piece suit. He smiled at her and then his eyes flashed back to the customs officer.

The effect was immediate. “Of course, sir. I just need to see your paperwork.”

Without giving the customs officer much in the way of eye contact, the newly arrived man held a sheaf of papers out to him and left them on his counter. “I will take responsibility for these travelers.”

“Yes, of course, sir.”

He waved Annja and Frank toward him. “Please follow me.”

They walked out of the bustling airport and followed him to an idling Mercedes at the curbside.

Annja stopped him as they approached the car. “What about our bags?”

He pointed at the trunk. “We took the liberty of collecting them. They’re in the boot.” He indicated the car. “Please, if you would—”

“Who are you?” Annja crossed her arms. “No offense intended, but I don’t usually get into cars with people I don’t know. Especially in foreign countries.”

“My name is Inspector Ajay Pradesh.” He flashed a badge. “I am with the Hyderabad City Police Special Investigations Unit.”

Frank walked past Annja. “Good enough for me.”

Annja stopped Frank with a hand on his arm. “Let’s try not to get into too much trouble before we know what’s going on here, all right?”

Frank paused.

Pradesh seemed to be smiling at her. She frowned. “Would you mind letting me see your badge?”

“Of course not.” He tossed it to her and she caught it. There was a laminated photo of Pradesh and a hologram overlaid on the identification. It could have been a forgery, but Pradesh seemed genuine enough. Still, old habits were hard to fight and Annja had a few questions before she jumped into a stranger’s car.

“How did you know we were coming into town?”

“Your boss in New York called us. Apparently he was concerned that you might have some trouble when you landed.” He glanced quickly at Frank and then back at Annja.

Frank looked puzzled. “Why would they think that?”

Pradesh chuckled. “Perhaps this is not the first time you have made a scene in public?”

Frank glanced down. He sighed. “That Christmas party last year wasn’t my fault. Seriously.”

Annja shook her head. “I’m tempted to put you on the next plane back to New York.”

Frank ran his hand through his mop of hair, tousling it wildly. “Please don’t do that, Annja. This is a big assignment for me. If this goes right, it could be a stepping stone to better assignments. You know I can work a camera like no one’s business.”

Pradesh leaned against the car and folded his arms. “I think there’s a flight bound for the States in another hour.” He winked at Annja. “If that’s really what you want to do.”

Annja smirked. “Well…”

Frank fairly dived into the backseat of the Mercedes. Annja allowed herself the briefest smile.

“Well, that seems settled,” Pradesh said over the roar of an airplane taking off overhead. He held the door for her. “Would you like to sit up front? It makes you look like less of a criminal.”

“All right.”

Annja slid into the car and waited for Pradesh to get behind the steering wheel. He adjusted his seat belt and then guided them out into the traffic’s slipstream.

He was handsome and refined. She found it hard to think of him as a policeman, but she couldn’t deny that his authoritative presence had certainly heeled the customs officer. Still, he didn’t have the cop vibe.

“Thanks for stepping in back there at the airport.”

He shrugged. “He was doing his job, of course, but unfortunately many airport officials tend to live out their power-hungry fantasies at the expense of naive travelers.”

Frank didn’t say a word from the backseat.

“Your timing was impeccable.”

Pradesh grinned. “Actually, I was watching for a few minutes before I intervened.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to see what the two of you were like. How you handled the challenge and what you might do. I’m something of an observer of people, you see. I like knowing who I’m about to get involved with.”

“Get involved with?”

Pradesh nodded as he zipped the Mercedes around a large cargo truck. A blare of a horn followed them, but Pradesh seemed unmoved by it. “I’ve been assigned to help you.”

Annja shook her head. “I don’t think we need any help.”

Pradesh held up one hand. “I promise I won’t interfere with your investigation. There are a lot of jurisdictions involved in this case right now.”

“I get the feeling this isn’t a request.”

Pradesh shrugged. “I have people I answer to, as well. Orders are orders, as they say.”

Annja sighed. “I’m not exactly thrilled with this.”

“See it from our angle, Annja. We’re dealing with a crime scene. Two foreigners—one who is, forgive me, less than culturally perceptive—with a television program coming into our jurisdiction to investigate a series of crimes we haven’t been able to make much headway on yet. Imagine how bad we would look if television researchers—one with archaeology accreditation—were able to figure it out and we were not. Such disgrace would be intolerable for us, I’m afraid.”

“So, you’re here to babysit us.”

“If that is how you wish to view it, that is fine with me.” Pradesh shrugged. “But I do sincerely wish to assist you in any way that I might. I have been intrigued with the idea of a giant tiger roaming our city since the first body was found. But my requests for additional manpower to track it have gone unanswered.”

“Why?”

Pradesh pointed out a sprawling new construction project to their left. “Hyderabad is in the midst of unparalleled economic growth. Several key industries for the city have the potential to make this part of India one of the country’s richest.”

“I would think the powers that be would want anything that threatened it to be taken care of at once.”

“It’s something of a fine line.” Pradesh reduced the air-conditioning. “The city leaders are publicity clamoring for action. But behind the scenes, they don’t want anything to disrupt progress. And the development where these attacks have occurred belong to some of the city’s wealthiest, so it’s a double-edged sword. The residents obviously want the tiger—or creature—found and killed, but they don’t want a stigma attached to their homes. They would lose all cachet. And that’s why they bought here.”

Annja shook her head. “Bizarre. They’ve potentially got a man-eating tiger looking for its next meal and they’re worried about what their friends will say.”

“I am not even close to being in that financial realm. So perhaps my perspective is somewhat different.”

“More like realistic,” she said.

“We will have to proceed with discretion,” Pradesh said. “There are people who already think the city leaders have been too vocal about finding the tiger. For them, it would be better if the tiger was lured away to some other section of the city. If it found a poorer place to settle down and hunt, they’d be quite happy.”

“Don’t tell me someone actually suggested that.”

Pradesh smiled. “As I said, my perspective is not nearly the same as those with money.”

“I guess the sooner we figure it out, then the better it will be for everyone involved.”

“Absolutely. Now, let me get you settled at your hotel. I’m certain your cameraman would like to have a shower and a fresh change of clothes.”

“He would,” Frank said. “Thank you very much.”

“What happens next?” Annja asked.

“There’s a function tonight to welcome you and Frank to our city,” Pradesh explained. “I don’t suppose you have an evening gown with you?”

“An evening gown?” Annja frowned. “I’m here to find a tiger, not dance.”

Pradesh smiled. “This will be something of a challenge.” He wheeled them toward a gleaming white hotel. “But I think we will manage.”


Chapter 3



The hotel was gorgeous. As Annja walked into the bedroom from the steaming-hot shower she’d just enjoyed, she couldn’t help but appreciate the thick shag carpet. She curled up on the bed and gave serious thought to falling right to sleep. The flight had been long, and with the stress of having to shepherd Frank through customs, she was exhausted.

Thank goodness Pradesh showed up. She smiled. He was a handsome man, and she hadn’t seen a wedding ring on his finger. Although maybe that was because he didn’t wear one while he worked.

Not that she was here to flirt. She had a job to do. And finding the killer was the only important thing to her right now.

Except Pradesh was picking them up in an hour for the party in their honor.

Annja sighed. Nothing worse than having to put on a show for people. All she wanted to do was get out to the site of the murders. Apparently that would have to wait.

Her more immediate problem was what she was going to wear. Pradesh had been correct—she hadn’t brought a cocktail dress with her. Why would she? When Annja had booked her flight, the only thing she thought she’d need were a good pair of boots and her usual gear.

Mingling with high society hadn’t been on the agenda.

Until now.

Annja laid out her best shirt and pants. Eyeing them, she frowned. There was no way that outfit was going to pass muster with Hyderabad’s elite. Not a chance.

She wondered what time the stores downstairs closed. She had the credit card from the show and she could expense a new dress. But—

A knock at her door jarred her out of her thoughts. She peered through the peephole. One of the bellhops stood outside. Annja wrapped the robe a little tighter around herself and cracked the door.

“Yes?”

“Excuse me for disturbing you, Miss Creed. This was just delivered for you.”

He held out a garment bag and Annja reached for it. “Thank you.” She closed the door and laid the bag on the bed. A small card was tied to the hanger. Annja opened it.



I hope you don’t mind my taking the liberty of getting this for you.

—Dunraj



“Who the hell is Dunraj?” Annja asked aloud. She unzipped the garment bag.

The dress inside was gorgeous. A spaghetti-strap number in black with a line of understated jewels that wound down the dress. Annja recognized it immediately as one of Paris designer Nikolai Depue’s latest designs.

It must have cost a fortune.

She slipped the bathrobe off and stepped into the dress. It fit her like a glove and she couldn’t help but appreciate how good she looked in the mirror on the bathroom door, how well the dress fit her curves.

I don’t suppose my boots are going to look good with this, she thought. But then she noticed that bulge at the bottom of the garment bag. A pair of simple black leather heels. She stepped into them and instantly felt like a million dollars.

And that made her very uncomfortable. She didn’t even know who’d sent this outfit. She looked down at her khakis on the bed and was sorely tempted to put her own clothes on instead.

Just as she reached to unzip the dress, her phone rang. “Hello?”

“Annja? It’s Frank.”

Frank had a room on another floor. Annja wondered what he’d be wearing tonight. He didn’t exactly seem like the designer-suit type.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah. Some dude showed up at my door with a penguin suit—a freaking tuxedo. Can you believe it?”

“Actually, yes,” she said. “How does it fit?”

“Uh, it fits me perfectly. I have no idea who sent it, though. And I have even less of an idea how he knew my suit size.”

She studied herself in the mirror and then decided the dress would just have to do. After all, it would only be on her a couple of hours. “Let’s meet downstairs.”

Annja caught the elevator, and when the doors opened to the lobby, the first person she saw was Pradesh standing near the concierge station. He wore what Annja recognized as a sleek Pathani suit.

Pradesh’s eyes lit up when he saw Annja. “Forgive me for being blunt. You look incredibly beautiful.”

“Blunt is not necessarily a bad thing,” Annja said with a smile even though he had made her uncomfortable. “Thank you for the compliment.”

Pradesh gave her a short bow and then Annja heard the elevator ding behind her. Frank walked out. The tuxedo indeed looked good on him, but he didn’t have nearly the confidence to pull the look off. She could tell he felt uneasy.

“Very handsome,” she said as he approached.

“Very awkward,” he said quietly. “I feel like everyone is staring at me. And I don’t like it.” He pointed at her dress. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” Annja touched him on the arm. “You’ll be fine. Just try to relax.” She turned to Pradesh. “So, now what?”

“I’ll drive you to the party. It’s being held downtown at the offices of Dunraj Incorporated.”

“Did you say Dunraj?”

Pradesh nodded. “Yes, he’s one of the most influential residents of Hyderabad. He’s got an estimated wealth at around one billion dollars U.S.”

Frank whistled. “Wow.”

“Yes, his money generally elicits that reaction from people. It certainly seems to from the group Dunraj surrounds himself with. But there you go.”

“Money’s not everything,” Annja said. “He didn’t need to buy me this dress. I have clothes that would have been fine. Well, almost fine.”

Pradesh grinned. “So, is that where that came from? I wondered, but I thought it would be rude to ask. You both do look perfectly suited for the night ahead, however, so I guess Dunraj’s money was put to good use—at least in this case.”

Annja glanced at him. “Suited for the night ahead? And what exactly will this night entail?”

Pradesh smiled wider. “Oh, I imagine it will involve meeting an awful lot of people who have seen your show on television and who will wish to ask you all sorts of boring questions about your work and what you do. They’ll flatter you, no doubt, but each of them will want something. And they’ll prattle on at length about various topics you will probably have little to no interest in. You know, the usual prattling that occurs at these tiresome things.”

Annja raised her eyebrows.

He leaned forward. “I’ve been to one or two of these before. They get rather wearing. But such is the life of an inspector. I do my best to try to bear it, but there are times I find myself marveling at my own endurance.”

He led them outside to the Mercedes. Annja noticed it had been washed and waxed since their earlier trip from the airport. She again sat up front with Pradesh, while Frank maneuvered himself into the backseat, still acting incredibly pained about his outfit.

Annja caught his eye. “Frank, let it go. You look good, now just pretend like you know you look good and you’ll be fine.”

He fidgeted with his tie. “The last time I wore one of these things was my junior prom. And I hated it then. So much so, I refused to wear one for my senior prom.”

“What did you wear to that?” Pradesh asked.

“Shorts. Plus a bright red blazer. I looked wild.”

Annja shook her head. “That sounds like quite the night. Your date must have loved that.”

“Uh, yeah. We didn’t stay together for very long.”

“I wish I could say I’m shocked.” She laughed. “But shorts and a bright red blazer don’t exactly fit the picture of what most girls want their dates to wear to the prom.”

“What about what I wanted to wear?” Frank asked.

Pradesh chuckled. “From what I understand about American girls and their proms, what you wanted was never really up for discussion.”

“He’s right,” Annja agreed. “It’s all about the ladies.”

“It always is,” Frank grumbled. He lapsed into silence and Annja watched as the city passed outside of the window.

The sun was already below the horizon, and Annja marveled at the lights of the city. Hyderabad seemed very modern. She mentioned this to Pradesh, who nodded.

“We have a rich history, but we are also firmly embracing the future. People like Dunraj are at the forefront of this move forward. With the number of developments under way in the city limits, there is hope that we will overtake several other cities and become the economic hub of India.” He tilted his head. “That’s the plan, anyway. We’ll see if it becomes reality or not.”

“And what sort of industries are you attracting?”

“Green-power companies, technology, and we even have several movie studios that are setting up shop here. The film industry in India, as you know, is tremendously popular. And Hyderabad’s climate is well suited to movies and TV. Tollywood they call our small niche.”

“Does Dunraj have his hand in everything that goes on in the city?”

“To a certain extent,” Pradesh said. “He prefers not to be seen as a power player, but he is one. His role is often in the background. He comes from a very old family. One with its own past and characters. But he is something of a maverick and he likes that role. He’s the last of his family line, though, so sometimes he can get a bit…interesting.”

“I don’t understand,” Annja said.

“You will.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to meeting him. If only to thank him for his impeccable taste.”

Pradesh eyed her. “I think perhaps he is looking forward to meeting you even more.”

“He must be,” Frank said from behind them. “That dress makes Annja look like a knockout.”

Annja took a breath and let it out slowly. “Frank, do me a favor, will you?”

“Sure thing.”

“Don’t talk like that tonight. All right? This is an important function, judging by what Pradesh is telling us. And if things go well, we’ll be able to work here without hassle. But if things don’t go well, then we’ll face all sorts of complications, which I’m not a big fan of. So remember that every time you speak tonight. What you say will have a direct impact on your future. Trust me.”

“Okay, Annja.” Frank sighed. “I get it.”

Pradesh pointed ahead of the car. “You see that building?”

“You mean the tower with the lights?”

“That is Dunraj’s corporate headquarters. From there, he oversees his rather extensive empire of business interests.”

“That building must have cost him a fortune,” Annja said. “You weren’t joking about his personal wealth, huh?”

Pradesh nodded. “At the time, it was the most expensive building construction project in all of Hyderabad. Something along the lines of what you might see in Dubai, I’d imagine.” He shrugged. “But Dunraj was determined to see it built and ended up sinking massive amounts of his own money in to fund it and make sure he finished by the deadline he’d set.”

“It’s quite a nice design,” Annja said. She hoped Pradesh didn’t take her next question the wrong way, but she wanted to get a handle on her unexpected benefactor. “Is this Dunraj guy married?”

“He is Hyderabad’s most eligible bachelor. No woman in the city has attracted him enough to settle down yet. Although they all try. My, do they try. And since he is, as I said, the last of his family, I believe the pressure is on him to settle produce an heir.”

“Interesting.” Annja suddenly felt exposed in the dress.

Pradesh pulled the Mercedes into the outer parking area and stopped before the guard shack. He flashed his credentials and the car was waved through. Carefully manicured orange trees framed the road.

“Does he make his own orange juice, too?” Annja asked absently. She wouldn’t be surprised if the guy had his own orange-juice label. He seemed to have a lot of projects under way.

Pradesh smiled. “There is very little that Dunraj is not able to do. I have no doubt if he thought orange juice was worth his time he would capture the majority market share in the city. And from there, the rest of the country.”

Annja glanced back over the seat at Frank. “Are you all right back there?”

“Yeah.”

Pradesh slowed the car. “We’re here.”

Annja took one final glance at Frank. “All right, penguin boy, let’s see how smooth you can be when the stakes are high.”

And then she got out and followed Pradesh into the building.


Chapter 4



They took an elevator with padded leather walls up to the penthouse office suite where the doors glided back to reveal an incredible party already well under way. “And here I thought we’d be early,” Annja said quietly. To her relief, the attire at the party seemed predominantly Western.

And she wasn’t the only one wearing a slinky black dress and heels.

But the once-overs and glares started almost immediately. Annja rolled her eyes. All she wanted to do was get out to the development and see the crime scenes.

Now she had to play nice. Or at least she had to convince the gold diggers that she wasn’t here to hook Dunraj.

Frank, at her side, whispered, “You can almost smell the money in this room. It’s tangible, for crying out loud.”

Pradesh seemed remarkably at ease with the environment. He might not have come from money, but he wasn’t out of his depth here, either.

A waiter came by carrying a silver tray with glasses of champagne. Pradesh helped himself to two and gave one to Annja.

Annja sipped the bubbly. It must have cost roughly a thousand dollars a bottle, judging by its flavor. Frank grabbed one for himself, and Annja was relieved when he didn’t knock the tray over.

A DJ was set up in one corner of the cavernous reception area. A few lights were flashing in time to the lounge music. But the volume wasn’t so high that Annja had to raise her voice to be heard. A few guests closer to the DJ swayed back and forth to the beat.

Others were helping themselves to small plates of appetizers set out on a grand wooden conference table. There was food from a number of cultures. Fresh sashimi, Indian specialties, a carving station and much more. Without a doubt, this party had cost a fortune.

Then Annja spotted him. She’d had no idea what Dunraj looked like before they’d arrived, but as soon as she laid eyes on the man, working the room as effortlessly as a politician, she knew it had to be him.

Dunraj looked to be about forty-eight years old. His hair was a little long, swept back in frosted waves off his face. His tanned skin was smooth, and judging by the cut of his tuxedo, he must work out quite a bit. But he wasn’t flexing his guns to impress anyone. His understated manner said enough.

She glanced over at Frank. There was no way the kid measured up. He looked as if he’d been wrestled into a straitjacket and then sent out to dance in public.

Painful for him and painful to have to watch.

Dunraj seemed to be working his way across the room. With each person he met, he would either shake their hand or give them a peck on the cheek. Annja could sense the waves of charisma rolling off him.

No wonder the women here are going bonkers, she thought. He’s an incredible specimen.

Pradesh was at her ear. “He’s coming to see you. Try not to gawk.”

Annja shot him a look. “I don’t gawk. Ever.”

But Pradesh only smiled. “That’s what they all say, Annja. You haven’t yet met the man. I’d reserve judgment.”

Annja sipped her champagne and watched Dunraj continue his arc toward where they stood. If he was trying to get to Annja, she would never have guessed it. Dunraj took his time. He never appeared hurried or impatient. It was as if he knew the world would only be too happy to wait for him.

But eventually, he seemed to materialize out of the crowd directly in front of her. His smile was the first thing she noticed. It gleamed. Annja blinked and she would have sworn that time slowed down. Like in the movies.

She blinked again. Get a grip. You don’t go faint at the sight of men, not even one as obviously evolutionarily superior as this.

“You must be Annja.”

Annja allowed him to sweep her hand up and then she felt his lips barely brush the back of her hand. His eyes bore into hers. The effect was potent and Annja had to take a quick breath before she could respond.

“I am,” Annja said, surprised at how husky her voice sounded. “You must be Dunraj.”

“I hope you’ll forgive me for throwing this welcome party for you and your colleague here.” He turned and shook hands with Frank. “You must be Frank. Very glad to meet you.”

“Hi.” Frank pumped Dunraj’s hand a little too hard. But at least he didn’t say anything embarrassing.

Not yet.

Dunraj refocused on Annja. “I understand you’ve come to our wonderful city to investigate the horrible deaths that we seem to be plagued with.”

“I’m not investigating it yet. I’m here at this party. But yes, that’s the purpose of our visit.”

“No time for pleasure, then?”

“How do you mean?”

“We have some incredible tourist attractions here. Gardens created by kings. Fabulous restaurants. Are you sure your trip doesn’t allow you to see those first? Perhaps put this unfortunate business aside while you acclimate. I’m told I’m an excellent tour guide.”

“I don’t doubt that for a moment.” Annja smiled. “And I have no doubt Hyderabad is a wonderful place. I’ve been impressed so far with what we’ve seen. And the police are obviously very efficient.”

Dunraj turned to Pradesh. “The police are fantastic here. And Pradesh is perhaps the finest of them all.”

Pradesh bowed briefly. “You are too kind, sir.” But while that might have sounded humble, Annja noticed that Pradesh didn’t bow too low. She liked that.

“Nonsense. You’ve always proven to be an excellent civil servant. Your adherence to duty and honor is something to be greatly admired.”

The compliments and praise seemed to come as easily to Dunraj as breathing. Annja wondered how much of his day was spent serving up platitudes.

Not that there was anything necessarily wrong with that. Dunraj obviously needed the gift of gab to accomplish his mission. And the praise didn’t seem insincere.

“Are you comfortable at the hotel?”

“The hotel? It’s fine. Nothing wrong with it that I could see.”

Dunraj put one hand on her shoulder. It was just a touch. A warm one. “You know, we have much nicer hotels elsewhere in the city. I could make some phone calls if the hotel isn’t quite to your liking. Get you and your traveling companion here into a nice suite, perhaps? It’s no trouble whatsoever.”

“The hotel is fine,” she repeated firmly. “I’ve been sleeping on the floors of forests and jungles for years. I’m used to far less comfort when I travel.”

Dunraj nodded. “I’m sure you must be. What a fascinating job you have. I’ve seen all of your shows many times over, and you’ve always impressed me with your candor and knowledge of subjects that most of us simply know nothing about. You’re able to convey the educational background of your assignments without talking down to your audience. You have a talent, Annja, you really do.”

I’m not the only talented one in the room, she thought. But she merely smiled. “Thank you very much for saying so.” She sipped her champagne. “Which episode was your favorite?”

“Pardon?”

Gotcha. “I asked which episode you liked best.”

Dunraj smiled, never breaking eye contact. “The one where you were in Scotland chasing down reports of the Loch Ness monster. I really need to visit there in the autumn and experience the pleasure of drinking a beer in a pub with the peat smoke and so forth, like you did in that final segment. You were able to show that Scotland has a charm all its own, even without the Loch Ness monster.”

It was Annja’s turn to hesitate. She hadn’t expected him to be able to recount that. Perhaps Dunraj had really seen her shows.

Interesting.

Dunraj’s smile grew. “I do hope you’ll forgive me, but unfortunately I need to cut our time short. I’ve got some other guests to attend to. Please enjoy my hospitality. I will return shortly and we can talk some more then. All right?”

“Oh. Yes. Absolutely. That would be great. I’d like that.” Annja blinked and then Dunraj was gone. The crowd had swallowed him up.

And the funny thing was, she missed him.

“You okay?”

She looked at Frank. “Me? Yeah, of course, I’m fine.” Annja frowned. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Because you look a little pale. Like maybe your first encounter there with Captain Amazing might have been more than you bargained for.”

Annja sipped her champagne. “Nothing to worry about, Frank. I’m just tired from the flight.”

Frank didn’t argue the point. “We should get something to eat.”

“Good idea.”

As they walked to the nearest table, Annja felt eyes on them. More women sizing her up, most likely. Now that Dunraj had connected with her, they were all checking her out, trying to determine if she was a rival for Dunraj’s attention. Someone they would have to sort out if it became clear Dunraj fancied her.

“I told you he was something else, didn’t I?” Pradesh said at Annja’s elbow. “You were mesmerized and don’t even realize it. Even now when he’s not around you any longer.”

Annja smirked. “He is something else. I’ll give you that. But is he like that with everyone?”

Pradesh gestured around the room. “Do you see anyone here who isn’t equally enamored of him? The women want to be with him. The men want to be like him. Dunraj is the epitome of what many in Hyderabad aspire to become.”

“What’s his story?”

Pradesh shrugged. “Comes from a well-respected family, as I’ve said, but Dunraj was never content to rely on their reputation. He was schooled abroad in Zurich and then Oxford. He speaks a number of languages, including Mandarin, Farsi and German, and that multilingualism has enabled him to reach beyond India’s borders and attract both international investment and cooperation. A lot of people say he is the unofficial mayor of Hyderabad.”

“And how does the mayor feel about that?”

Pradesh brushed something she couldn’t see off his lapel. “I assume she’s quite happy knowing that Dunraj will pour a lot of money into her next campaign. Dunraj enjoys a wonderful relationship with the mayor, and she’s always ready to approve his next construction project. He has no real political aspirations. He accomplishes all of his public-service work through his construction projects. It’s very much a symbiotic relationship.”

Dunraj was on the far side of the room when he picked up a microphone from the DJ and the music abruptly cut out. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could please have your attention.”

Not as if he didn’t already have the attention of everyone in the room. Despite the noise level and the buzzing conversations, not one person ever had their eyes off Dunraj.

Dunraj continued. “I’m so pleased you were all able to accept my invitation to attend tonight’s event. I realize this was last minute.”

This was last minute? She wondered what a well-planned party would have been like.

“It humbles me to have such wonderful friends and colleagues as yourselves,” Dunraj continued. “Truly. Thank you so much.”

Before Annja could critique his speech to Frank for laying it on too thick, Dunraj added, “My purpose in throwing tonight’s party was to welcome a visitor to our great city. An American who has always impressed me with her steadfast resolve, intellect and pursuit of truth. It’s my pleasure to introduce you all to Miss Annja Creed, host of Chasing History’s Monsters.”

Annja’s gut dropped, but she managed to smile and hold up her glass in acceptance of Dunraj’s praise. “Thank you.”

“I hope you will all take a moment to introduce yourselves to Annja and her colleague, Frank. Tell them about our city and the role it plays in India’s twenty-first- century expansion and growth. And please make sure they both understand that Hyderabad is a glowing example of India’s prosperity and the new hub of our nation’s incredible future. Thank you and enjoy.”

A few guests clapped and Dunraj handed the microphone back to the DJ. She was about to go over to him when a throng of people suddenly appeared in front of her.

And every last one of them wanted to welcome her and Frank to Hyderabad. They were like trained dogs. She smiled politely but really wanted to get out of there.

Annja looked around the room for Dunraj. But the Indian billionaire had vanished.


Chapter 5



“Where’d he go?” Annja asked as she fended off throngs of well-wishers, mostly middle-aged men.

Frank, for his part, didn’t seem to mind the attention a number of young women were paying him. “Where’d who go?”

“Dunraj.” Annja pushed her way through the throng, straining to see above the mass of heads. But Dunraj had indeed vanished. One moment, he’d been in his reception area, and the next, he was gone.

Pradesh had also disappeared. What was going on here? Annja turned and saw what looked to be Frank giving his telephone number. She sighed and pushed back into the women around him. “All right, Frank, let’s get going. Come on, now.”

“Now?” He frowned. “But I’m starting to enjoy myself. There are an awful lot of very nice young women here.”

“Which is exactly why I want to get the hell out of here before your libido turns this welcome party into an orgy.”

“Would that be so terrible?” Frank pleaded.

Annja grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the crowd. They eventually got a second to catch their breath near the entry door close to the elevator they’d rode up on.

Frank brushed himself off. “The ladies here are so forthcoming with their intimate details. Imagine.”

“I don’t even want to know what that means,” she said. “Can we get out of here now?”

Frank looked longingly back toward the party. “Yeah, I guess. We going to the hotel?”

“I’d like to, yes. I’m exhausted. I need serious sleep if we’re going to start first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Can we call a taxi? I don’t see Pradesh anywhere.”

Annja nodded. “Me, neither. And I don’t like it when our host and our minder both disappear within seconds of each other. That strikes me as sort of weird.”

Frank eyed her. “You’re not going to go all ‘conspiracy theory’ on me now, are you?” He pushed the elevator call button, and seconds later the doors slid back. Annja and Frank stepped inside, and the car descended toward the ground.

“My father had a real thing for Indian women,” Frank reminisced. “I remember one time when we were Christmas shopping and there was this woman in the music store. My father was totally captivated. I get it now.”

“Well, good,” Annja said. “Now you two can compare notes when you get home. Nice.”

Frank sighed. “Nah, he died about ten years back. We were just getting to be really good friends when he had a heart attack.”

Annja felt badly for Frank. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. It just bums me out sometimes when I think about him being gone. We could have had some fun times together.”

She put a hand on his arm. “If it helps, I’m sure he’d be very proud of what you’ve accomplished in your life. Your professional life, I mean. That stunt on the airplane—” she grinned “—probably not so much.”

The elevator doors opened and they were back in the lobby. They headed for the main desk. Annja was about to beckon the security guard to call them a taxi when Frank stopped her.

“Hey, there’s Pradesh.”

And sure enough, the policeman came striding across the lobby. “I was wondering when you’d make your escape.”

Annja studied him suspiciously. “Where’d you disappear to?”

Pradesh cocked an eyebrow. “Why, down here, of course. Once Dunraj made his introduction of you and Frank, I decided it might be a good idea to have the car waiting. Neither of you strike me as being fond of mobs of ardent admirers. Well, perhaps Frank…” He smiled as he said it and even Annja had to grin.

“You could have told us.”

“Now, where would the fun be in that? I imagined you making a grand exit, throwing people aside while Frank led the way to the elevator. Was I close?”

“Not even remotely,” Annja said. “Aside from us taking the elevator down here again.”

“Ah, well, my powers of perception aren’t in the psychic realm. I apologize if I caused you any distress.” He offered Annja his arm.

“No distress,” she said, taking the arm to be polite. “We were going to grab a taxi back to the hotel.”

“No need. I have the Mercedes waiting.”

The Hyderabad night was balmy but with enough of a breeze to make it pleasant. Pradesh kept the windows down, and as they drove away from Dunraj’s office park, Annja caught the scent of the trees on the breeze and suddenly felt very tired. The trip over had been a long one.

Pradesh, for his part, seemed energized. “How about a bite to eat?”

“I’m starving,” Frank chimed in from the backseat. “I didn’t see very much to eat at the party.”

“That’s because you were too busy concentrating on the women,” she said. “There was an entire conference table laid out with food.”

Pradesh chuckled. “Frank, I rather doubt any of those women would be as appealing as you think they are.”

“Why?” Frank asked. “They seemed, uh, ready, willing and able to me.”

“No doubt they are all that.”

“But?”

“Well, it’s just that they’re also all…” He seemed to be searching for the right term. “Gold diggers, isn’t that what you call them?”

Annja nodded.

“Yes. Dunraj enjoys knowing they would fight to the death if he asked them to. And they would. I have broken up one or two fights at his parties when some of the women got territorial. They don’t take kindly to strangers coming into their feeding grounds, as it were.”

“I’m glad we got out of there when we did.”

Pradesh looked at Annja. “I know you’re tired—”

“I’m not.”

Pradesh held up his hand. “I can see it on your face. But I know a nice little place where the food is excellent. It would be an honor to take you both there. We could relax and talk.”

“Any chance I can get changed first?” Frank asked.

“What about you? Would you prefer to change?”

Annja shrugged. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to get into some more comfortable clothes. These heels are killing me. I miss my boots.”

“Very well. We can swing by your hotel and then go from there.”

They got back within ten minutes thanks to the way Pradesh maneuvered through the traffic. He leaned against the Mercedes in the roundabout outside the hotel’s entrance. “I’ll be here.”

Annja was dressed and back down in five minutes. Frank showed up two minutes later looking significantly more relaxed than he had been earlier. He wore jeans and a loose button-down shirt. Annja was relieved he hadn’t opted for some obnoxious T-shirt.

Pradesh had also changed out of his suit. “Did you strip right out here in public?” Annja asked.

He laughed. “I carry a change of clothes at all times. It enables me to react to all situations.”

“Good plan,” Annja said as they got into the car. “So, where are we going?”

“A family restaurant. I don’t know where you may have traveled before, Annja, but the smallest, least-known restaurants are sometimes the best. It’s no different here in Hyderabad. If you’ll trust me to guide you, I think you will agree the meal is something spectacular.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Pradesh glanced in the rearview mirror. “Is that all right, Frank?”

“Sure, I’m starving.”

“You like spicy food?”

“Back home I love the Indian food at a small place near my apartment. So if it’s anything like that, I’m all in.”

“Probably not, but we’ll see.”

He slipped the Mercedes in and out of traffic before getting off the busy thoroughfare and ducking onto quieter side streets. They drove slowly through a busy neighborhood and then down another side street where the noise died down. Finally, Pradesh turned into a small lot and parked the car.

“We’re here.”

They got out and headed for an unmarked red door. Inside, they were hit by a waft of scents that made Annja’s mouth water. “Oh, my God, it smells incredible in here.”

“Ajay?”

Pradesh smiled as a rotund woman rushed up, wiping her hands on her apron. She clutched him up in a giant hug. “Oh, my boy!”

Pradesh gave her a kiss and then turned to Annja and Frank. “I’d like you to meet my mother, Peta.”

“Mother?” Annja smiled. “You pulled a fast one on us.”

Pradesh returned her smile. “Well, this is a restaurant, but yes, I did.”

“Come,” Peta said after the introductions had been made. She eyed Pradesh. “The specialties?”

Pradesh nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Mind? Why would I mind? It’s not every night I get to cook for my only son and his friends.” She beamed at them all. “Ajay is the pride of my home. A distinguished police officer. I couldn’t be happier that he’s brought you all here to my humble little restaurant.”

She vanished into the back, and Annja heard a cacophony of dishes banging as Peta began cooking.

Pradesh smoothly dropped onto a cushion at a low table as Annja and Frank followed his lead and sat on cushions opposite him. It took Frank some time to cross his legs awkwardly. “My father died a few years ago from a heart condition,” their host said. “I try to come by at least once a week when work doesn’t keep me away. It’s important that we still have each other.”

“You’re a good son,” Annja said, nodding.

“So, what are we having?” Frank asked.

Pradesh grinned. “Hyderabad is known for its regional cuisine. We call it Andhra here, and it features a lot of spicy chilies, rice, lentils, some seafood and chicken dishes. My mother’s specialty is preparing pickles.”

“Pickles?” Frank asked, skeptical. Annja wanted to pinch him under the table but Pradesh took it in stride.

“I think you’ll like them, Frank. My mother makes an incredible avakaya. Do you know what that is?”

“No.”

“It’s a pickle made from green mango. She also makes one from the leaves of the gongura plant. When you taste them with the other dishes, I think you’ll agree this is a far better meal than what Dunraj would have served—even with all of his money behind him.”

Annja took in the one other table of diners in the far corner of the rather intimate room and replied, “I don’t doubt it for one moment. I can’t tell you how many incredible meals I’ve been fortunate enough to have when I’ve been abroad in the past.”

“Haven’t you always been a broad?” Frank smirked.

Annja shot him a look. “Keep it up and I’ll separate your head from your shoulders.”

Frank stretched backward and almost fell over, catching himself by the edge of the table. “Yeah, right. How you going to do that?”

“Don’t ask,” she said. “Or you just might find out.” She winked at Pradesh and he smiled.

“If the food gets too spicy, please take some of the curd that comes with the meal. It helps to neutralize the heat and will calm your stomach.”

“Is this going to be very spicy?” Annja asked.

“Oh, yes. My mother is an expert at balancing heat, however, so while you may find one dish almost unbearable, she will complement it with another milder one. She’s a marvel in the kitchen.”

“I’m surprised she doesn’t have a bigger place,” Frank said.

“She used to work at a fancy hotel, but she got tired of the class of people there. She’s never been as happy as when she’s working for herself.”

On cue, the door to the kitchen slammed open and Peta came out bearing the first dishes. “I hope you’re hungry,” she fairly sang.

They were. And when Annja saw what Peta had prepared for them, she forgot all about being exhausted.

And Dunraj.


Chapter 6



It was one of the best meals Annja had had in a very long time. When they were done eating, Peta closed the restaurant and served them all a strong drink she said was an old family recipe. Annja wasn’t sure if it was alcoholic or not, but it was soothing and went down extremely easily.

Peta sat with them as they relaxed, helping herself to some of the drink. Annja toasted her.

“That was amazing. I can’t thank you enough for your hospitality.”

Frank held his glass aloft. “I second that. You are an incredible chef.”

Peta beamed at them and then put her arm around her son. “Thank you. I learned to cook when I was older. I forced myself to learn how to make the best meals for Pradesh. He studied so hard in school.”

Pradesh smiled at his mother. “It was a huge help when I was so exhausted from studying.”

“And now he is a famous policeman, keeping our city safe and free from corruption.” Annja saw the woman’s pride. Having lost Ajay’s father, it was clear that her son now occupied all of her heart.

Pradesh demurred. “Annja and Frank are here to investigate the deaths of those people in the development.”

Peta frowned. “A terrible thing. To imagine a creature attacking in such a way. It’s horrifying.”

“What do you think the creature is?” Annja asked. “A rogue tiger, perhaps?”

Peta stared at her. “In all my years I’ve never heard of a tiger stalking people in a city this big.” She shrugged. “But I am just a cook.”

“But the development—if I’m correct—is on the outskirts,” Annja said. “Perhaps it’s pushing into the domain of a tiger?”

Pradesh ran a hand along his chin. “It’s possible, I suppose. But we’ve found no tracks at the crime scenes. And a tiger large enough to take down a full-grown man would leave behind some sign.”

“Is the area well paved?”

Pradesh shook his head. “In some places, yes, but the area where the bodies were found was moist from the landscaping irrigation systems. And we found hardly a trace of anything in the mud. Our best forensics people were unable to locate any hair or DNA that would confirm it was a tiger.”

“Maybe it’s the ghost of a tiger,” Frank suggested hopefully.

“Frank,” Annja said, “ghosts?”

Frank helped himself to more of the drink from the small jug Peta had placed on the table and shrugged. “Just trying to contribute a little something to the conversation.”

Pradesh sighed. “I honestly wish I had more information to share with you. As you know, it’s an ongoing police investigation. All I can say is we are stumped.”

“Have you increased patrols in the area?”

He nodded. “We have two teams down there covering off twenty-four hours a day. They stay in constant radio contact. But something tells me if the killer is determined, not even the presence of the police will dissuade it…or…him.”

Peta got to her feet. “Just promise me you’ll be careful out there.” She frowned. “I can’t even bear to think about losing you, too.”

Pradesh stood and kissed his mother on the cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, Mother. I promise.”

Peta eyed Annja. “Make sure he doesn’t, would you?”

Annja was taken aback. “Uh, all right.”

Peta smiled. “I see things, Annja. Even things people wish to hide. I see much about you that others do not. I know what you are capable of.”

Annja had no reply for that but fortunately Pradesh nudged his mother toward the kitchen. “Yes, yes, we’ll bring the dishes in.”

“I’m just saying—” But Pradesh had already pushed her through the doors. When he came back, he was grinning sheepishly.

“I apologize for that. My mother sometimes gets a bit…strange when she has that drink. She’s claimed for years to be psychic. I don’t think there’s anything to it, of course. But she insists. There’s no real harm in it, I suppose.”

“She might be right,” Annja said. “You never know.”

Pradesh frowned. “I try not to encourage it in her. I’ve seen what the promise of supernatural possibilities can do to people. It gets them so fixated on the possibility of escaping their place in life that they end up ignoring what they have to deal with right in front of them. It becomes a never-ending cycle of disappointment.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And don’t worry, I’m good at taking care of myself.”

“You know mothers,” Annja said. “She just wants to make sure her son is well looked after. You can’t blame her for loving you.”

“You sound like you speak from experience.”

Annja shook her head. “I never knew my parents. I was orphaned at a very early age. You’re extremely lucky to know yours.”

Pradesh paused. “Yes, I am. Thank you for reminding me of that.”

A sudden snore erupted from Frank. Annja glanced down and saw her cameraman had fallen back against his pillows. His mouth was ajar and each breath brought a new grinding outburst.

“Good grief.”

Pradesh laughed. “It seems he appreciates my mother’s cooking. She’ll be pleased.”

“Not sure if it’s that, the trip over or that drink your mom served us. Or maybe it’s all three.” Annja smiled. “A potent combination.”

“Help me with the dishes and I’ll drive you both back to the hotel. A good night’s sleep will be the best thing for all of us. We can take a drive out tomorrow and start your investigation. I’m really interested to see what you come up with.”

“So am I.”

“You’ve done this type of thing before? With other so-called monsters?”

Annja shrugged. “Most times when people think there are monsters, it turns out there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. But once or twice…” Her voice trailed off as she remembered some of the more bizarre assignments she’d been on when events didn’t always add up so neatly.

“Yes, well, as I said, a good night’s sleep and we’ll get started.” Pradesh scooped up some of the dishes and carried them into the kitchen. Annja did the same, and after several trips, they’d cleaned the dining area.

Peta herded them out of the kitchen. “I can finish here.”

Pradesh helped Frank up, and between them both, they managed to get him back into the car.

Annja slid into the front seat. “Will your mom be okay?”

“She lives above the restaurant. She’ll be fine. The neighbors all keep an eye on her. They love having her here. I think she’s doing some catering now, as well—smaller weddings mostly. She gives them such a nice discount.” He started up the Mercedes and drove back onto the main thoroughfare.

At the hotel, Pradesh waited until Annja had Frank out of the car. “How about eight o’clock tomorrow? Will that be all right? Or do you need more time?”

“Eight o’clock.” Annja shifted Frank’s weight. “That will be fine.”

“Good night, then.”

“See ya.” Annja turned toward the hotel and nudged Frank into the lobby. Fortunately, it wasn’t crowded and she saw few people as they made it to the elevator. She propped Frank against the wall of the elevator and pushed the button for his floor.

Frank’s eyes opened immediately. “Are we all clear?”

Annja punched him in the arm. “What the hell, Frank? You were sound asleep a minute ago.”

He pushed away from the wall and smiled. “Pretty good, huh?”

“I thought you were drunk.”

Frank shrugged. “Listen, Annja, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s holding my booze. It takes a lot more than that drink to knock me on my ass. As delicious as it was, I don’t mind telling you.”

“So what’s up? Why the theatrics?”

“I figured it might let Pradesh open up. Maybe he’d reveal something about the case he didn’t feel comfortable saying in front of me.”

“Well, he didn’t.”

“Yeah, I know. Can’t blame a guy for trying, though.”

Annja watched the numbers advance on the elevator. “Pradesh said he’d meet us here at eight. That leaves plenty of time to get some solid sleep.”

“Yeah,” Frank said slowly.

Annja glanced at him. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just that I didn’t fly halfway around the world to get a good night’s sleep. I can do that anytime back home.” He winked at her. “I came here for some good story action.”

“Meaning what, exactly?”

Frank looked at his watch. “It’s eleven o’clock. What say you to a drive to the development now? You know, see for ourselves what’s going on out there. Firsthand.”

“It’s pitch-dark. We won’t be able to see anything. We need flashlights and gear.”

“All of which I’ve got with me,” Frank said.

“We’d have to rent a car.”

“They have taxis downstairs. We can take one to a car-rental agency,” Frank said. “This time of night, it shouldn’t take us more than twenty minutes to reach the site.”

Annja frowned. “I don’t know. I feel bad about going behind Pradesh’s back like this.”

“You here to make friends or to uncover the truth, Annja?”

The elevator dinged as it came to a stop at Frank’s floor. He looked at her. “If we get stopped by the cops, we can always tell them you couldn’t sleep because of jet lag or—”

“Oh, sure, blame it on me.”

“You’re the pretty one. They might zap me off to some sort of stink-hole jail where you’d never hear from me again.”

Frank stepped out of the elevator. “Listen, I’m going to get changed. Meet me downstairs in the lobby in twenty minutes. I really think we should check it out before we get all official tomorrow with Pradesh.”

Annja pushed the button for her floor again. “I’ll think about it.”

Frank clapped his hands. “Awesome.”

“I didn’t say I—” But the elevator doors cut off the rest of her sentence. The car descended and Annja leaned against the wall. She was tired. Full of good food.

And good drink.

Sleepy.

She was curious, of course, but her curiosity could wait until morning.

Couldn’t it?

The elevator dinged again and she stepped out onto her floor. She walked down the hallway and slid her key card into the lock.

Once inside, she leaned against the door and gazed longingly at the huge bed in front of her.

It looked so utterly inviting. She could turn on the air conditioner and sink beneath the covers and be asleep within moments.

She sighed and walked into the bathroom. “I’m getting too old for this craziness.”

But in another moment, she was changing her clothes to go meet Frank.


Chapter 7



“Do you even know where we’re going?”

Frank shot her a look. “I may never have been to Hyderabad before, but most cities are laid out logically.”

Annja sniffed. “Ever been to Boston?” She paused. “Just try not to get us lost, okay? It would be embarrassing if we had to call Pradesh for help.”

Frank shrugged. “Like I said, we didn’t come here to make friends. We’ve got a story to chase down.”

“Friends,” Annja said, “are one of the most important things in the world. And I, for one, do not want to make Pradesh feel like we were taking advantage of him. Or his mother.”

“So tell him you couldn’t sleep and you dragged me out of bed to come to this place. He’ll believe you… I think he likes you.”

“What?” Annja looked at Frank. “And just how did you arrive at that particular theory?”

“How he looks at you. The way he smiles. It’s obvious if you’re paying attention.”

Annja sniffed. “Frank, the only thing you pay attention to are creatures with breasts.”

“Well, I had time tonight when I wasn’t being mobbed by my more rabid admirers.”

“Any voice mails waiting for you?”

“No,” he said. “Maybe they have rules over here like they do in the States. Y’know, don’t call for a day or so afterward so you don’t seem too eager. Stuff like that.”

“Those women were there for one thing tonight—Dunraj. The only reason they mobbed you was because Dunraj told them to. And since they’ll do anything to please Dunraj, that meant they were going crazy over you.”

Frank was quiet for a moment. “So, what you’re really saying is that I missed my chance.”

“Frank!” Annja elbowed him. “Save your fantasies. I don’t want to hear about them.”

“Fine.”

Frank wheeled off the highway after another ten minutes. He frowned. “Okay, so this is where it will probably be tougher to navigate. Google was a little sketchy on details about this place.” He peered out of the windshield and pointed at a sign. “Does that say Road Closed?”

Annja studied it. “Frank, that’s written in Hindi script. I have no idea what it says. Hindi is not one of the languages I understand. Do you?”

“Uh, no.” Frank sighed. “Okay, we’ll just have to wing it.”

“Are you still thinking this was such a good idea?”

“Of course. We’re on the outskirts of the city. All we have to do is look for a modern residential dwelling. That shouldn’t be too hard to find.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Now, once I got off the highway, the map said to take a left and drive for a mile.”

Annja sighed. “I could be back in my hotel room sound asleep. I could be getting the rest I need to make sure this assignment is handled properly and professionally. Instead, I’m driving around a foreign city with a guy who has no idea where he’s going. Spectacular ending to a weird night.”

Frank pointed a finger at her. “Hey, it’s not actually the city right here. These are the outskirts, so that’s not the right terminology. But I know exactly where I’m going, Annja. I just like having you think I don’t.”

“Really?”

Frank bit his lip. “Kinda.”

Annja exhaled a breath and then forced herself to suck in another quickly. “Just shut up and find the place already, would you?”

For the next fifteen minutes, Frank maneuvered his way down back roads. It was incredibly dark. She spotted smaller homes with what looked like fenced-in areas for animals. Tall, spindly trees broke up the majority of the flat landscape. Wadis and canals dotted the rural area.

“Wouldn’t be too difficult to imagine a rogue tiger roaming around here looking for something to eat,” she said. “We’re only a few miles away from the heart of Hyderabad, but just outside that it’s so rural.”

“I thought tigers stuck more to the countryside.”

“We’re pretty country here, Frank.”

“I guess.”

They drove for several more minutes, the tires of the car bouncing over small potholes in the asphalt and dirt. And then Annja saw the glow of lights in the distance. “There. You think maybe that’s it?”

Frank shrugged. “I’d guess it would have to be. Are those mountains behind the development?”

Annja squinted. “Tough to see exactly, but the lights cast a glow out in that direction. We probably won’t know until the sun comes up tomorrow morning.”

“You mean later today.”

“What?”

Frank pointed at the clock on the dashboard. “Good morning. Time for that continental-breakfast buffet downstairs.”

Annja sighed. “All right, whatever. We’ve got bigger things to deal with right now.”

“Like big, ferocious tigers. Or strange, mysterious beasts.”

Annja frowned. “More like those two roving police patrols Pradesh mentioned while you were pretending to be asleep. Remember?”

Frank groaned.

“Let’s find a place to park the car and go on foot.” Annja peered out the window. “That probably means sneaking through drainage ditches and whatnot.”

Frank slowed the car to a stop and then looked at Annja. “Uh, correct me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t places like that be exactly where a hungry tiger would creep while it’s looking for meaty things to eat?”

“Absolutely.”

The look on Frank’s face was precious. A mixture of fear and excitement.

Annja patted him on the shoulder. “Well, we’re here now and I’m wide-awake, so it would be a waste not to use this chance to get a closer look.”

Outside, the humid night air buzzed with mosquitoes, but Annja had gotten used to being ravaged by them enough over the years.

Frank, however, promptly began smacking himself silly as the hordes attacked his pale skin.

“Try to ignore them,” she said. “Otherwise, they’ll drive you right out of your mind.”

“Easier said than done, Annja.” Frank smacked another one and left a smear of blood across his cheek.

“Then think of it this way—that blood on your cheek can be smelled by a tiger, so it’s probably in your best interest to not kill the bugs that have just taken your precious fluid. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

Annja pointed to the trunk. “You brought the gear?”

Frank walked back to the car and popped the lid. Inside, Annja saw his small backpack. “That’s it?”

“What?” Frank reached into the bag and brought out what looked like a regular DSLR camera. He held it up. “This is a Canon Eos 5D Mark II. Shoots full high- definition video and does really well in low-light conditions. It’ll work just fine for tonight. And if the cops do catch us, they probably won’t even realize we were shooting video footage on this.”

“How much room on the memory card?”

“Plenty. Plus, I’ve got two extra memory cards with me. But I don’t think we’ll need them.”

Frank rummaged through the bag and came up with something that looked like a handheld vacuum cleaner. “What the hell is that?”

“A handheld FLIR—forward-looking infrared detector. It comes in handy on nights like this when you want to scan the immediate area and make sure you aren’t walking into the jaws of a hungry tiger. Or a scary monster, for that matter.”

Frank switched the device on and a small LCD screen lit the night. He moved it around, aiming it into the darkness. Then he pointed at the screen. “The warmer the potential target is, the darker red it will be. The device takes an ambient-temperature reading of the air around us and then uses differences to designate heat signatures of animals and other living stuff that might be lurking in the night.”

Annja smiled. “Now, that is a good piece of gear. I could have used something like this on a number of occasions.”

Frank shut the trunk and handed Annja an extra flashlight. “I don’t recommend using the lights unless it’s absolutely necessary. Our night vision will go to hell if we switch them on.”

Annja took the FLIR from Frank. “Would you prefer I take point on this excursion?”

“Well, you are the host of the show, after all,” Frank said. “How would it look if the cameraman was suddenly leading these outings? I wouldn’t want your reputation to suffer.”

“Oh, thank you for your concern. But you’re right. I’d probably look like I was scared, and we can’t have that, can we?” Annja moved the FLIR around to get used to scanning with it. “I can actually see the lay of the ground in front of us with this thing, too.”

Frank nodded. “It’s very handy.”

Annja studied him. “All right, are you ready to do this?”

“If you mean potentially run into cops, get attacked by a man-eating tiger and run afoul of the nicest guy in Hyderabad, then absolutely.”

Annja smiled. “How are your nerves?”

Frank put a finger on his neck, felt for his pulse and then nodded. “Completely shot.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” she said. “Try to stay close but not too close. Everything will be just fine. I promise.”

“Really?”

“No, but it sounded good when I said it, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Annja studied the darkness, scanned it with the FLIR and then looked back at Frank. “We’re clear. Let’s go.”


Chapter 8



The residential complex was surrounded by an undulating open ground that dipped and leveled out every few feet. To Annja, it looked as if it had once been farmland that someone had sold to the developer. She stopped. She’d never even asked if Dunraj owned this place. But it seemed like a viable assumption. He seemed to own pretty much everything else in Hyderabad, and something like this would be right up his alley: a high-end complex for the ultrawealthy.

But that didn’t mean Dunraj had imported a tiger to stalk his residents. What would he get out of that? Annja shook her head and scanned the area with the FLIR again, but nothing showed up on the screen.

Moreover, she didn’t…feel anything. And usually right before anything bad happened, Annja would…sense something was up. But so far on this moonless night, she felt nothing out of the ordinary.

Good.

She glanced back at Frank, who took a step and promptly fell face-first into a puddle. He came up blubbering and clawing at his face.

“Be quiet!” Annja said. “There’s not much noise out here and sound carries farther at night.”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Frank wiped the greasy muck from his face.

“Make sure you don’t break that camera.” Annja kept moving forward, crossing a drainage ditch and a narrow culvert. She took it slow in case she happened across a lounging tiger. But the FLIR again proved its worth and showed no signs of life except for the ever-present mosquitoes.

Annja ignored Frank’s hushed grumbling and brought them within two hundred yards of the development. There, she squatted to study the layout.

The area ahead of them sloped upward out of the culvert to a fence. She initially thought it would be a problem getting through the fencing, but a quick glimpse down the wire told her it was still in the process of being installed and there were several areas where it was possible to step through.

The development itself comprised elaborate mansions in a grand style reflective of the Hindu culture. The landscaping gave them the appearance of being something out of an ancient kingdom.

A few of the homes were lit by a single light, but it was otherwise quite dark. There were streetlights, but they hadn’t been finished yet. By the look of things, several residents had moved in long before the complex was completed. Probably in a rush to get in there first for bragging rights.

On the way in, she’d studied the ground for any tracks. But like Pradesh had said, there seemed to be no sign of tigers.

There were an awful lot of footprints, however. Whether they’d been made by construction workers or by someone else, Annja couldn’t be sure.

Frank nudged her from behind. “What’s the holdup?”

“I’m trying to see what our choices are for gaining access.”

He pointed at a hole in the fence. “Seems like a good place to start right there.”

She held him back. “Hold on a second, would you? We haven’t seen or heard any of the police patrols yet.”

“Probably asleep.” He started to rise when Annja grabbed him by the sleeve and yanked him back into the dirt. She’d heard the unmistakable sound of a car engine.

“Quiet!” she whispered. And then she ducked down as the first arc of light swept the area where Frank had just been standing.

The slow thrum of the motor told Annja that the police car was on a routine patrol. The light swept over them a few times before the engine cranked up and the car moved off.

But still she held Frank down. “Wait.”

“Why?”

“Trust me.”

She listened and heard the motor die suddenly. As if they’d turned a corner.

Time to move.

“Okay, Frank, let’s get to that hole in the fence and get through it quickly. Make sure you pick out a spot away from the fence to hide in. The darker, the better.”

Frank was up and moving even as Annja finished giving him instructions. As she made her way to the fence, she knew they were about to cross a line. Once on the other side, they’d officially be trespassing.

She wondered how Pradesh would feel about that.

Well, she thought, the trick would be to get in and get out without him ever knowing. She checked her watch. An hour on the inside just to get the lay of the land.

The chain links bit at her arms, but Annja ducked through and then hustled across the small road the police car had driven down. Across the way, Frank was huddled underneath an overhang by what looked like an administration building. He had a small piece of paper unfolded and was studying it with a red-lensed penlight.

“What’s that?”

Frank looked up. “Map I made of the layout of this place. I marked the crime scenes on here.”

Annja smiled. “Good move.”

Frank stabbed his finger at the paper, keeping his voice low. “We’re here. We need to head west and find the culvert running in that direction. That’s where they found that guy Gupta.”

“Hopefully, they don’t have another police patrol on the scene.”

“This late at night?”

Annja shrugged. “They might just be parked up to discourage curious trespassers like us.”

“Ah.”

“I’ll take point.” She held the FLIR ahead of her and got a bearing. Annja stuck close to the walls and fences of the community. She was impressed with the layout. The place had obviously been designed to grant the residents the feeling of status, but it was still homey.

She glanced behind her at Frank. He was no ninja, of course, but he might just turn out to be all right.

As much of a wannabe Casanova as he was, he seemed to realize this assignment could really help further his career. If he wasn’t so focused on scoring with the ladies, they might make this a compelling piece of television.

Annja approached a corner and paused. The area around it was wide-open and offered views in each direction. They could see a lot, but Annja and Frank could also be seen. If someone was looking.

Annja paused. She and Frank needed to head west, which would put them right in line with another corner of the complex. The question was, what was waiting down there that they couldn’t see? If the police were stationed there, they would see Annja and Frank.

She turned and gestured for Frank.

“What’s up?”

Annja pointed. “This corner exposes us. We’ve got no cover for at least a hundred yards, and if the cops surprise us, we’ll be caught in the open. I don’t like advancing unless I’ve got cover and concealment.”

Frank studied his map. “We’d have to go outside the fence to use the ground to conceal us.”

“We can’t backtrack now. We’ll waste too much time.” Annja looked at the map over Frank’s shoulder. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know. I got this off the computer. Figured we’d find out once we got here.”

She peered closer. It looked like an extra culvert running out of the complex, but not one that was easily accessible. So how did you get into it?

She looked at the road. And grinned. “A manhole.”

Frank frowned. “A manhole?”

“Yeah. You don’t happen to have any tools with you, do you?”

“Like what? Something to pry a lid off?”

“Preferably.”

Frank shook his head. “No. I don’t.”

Annja could use her sword, of course. But how would she explain that to Frank? She never wanted anyone at work to know her secret if she could possibly avoid it. That her life had been forever changed on the day she’d brought the broken shards of Joan of Arc’s sword together for the first time in hundreds of years. That the sword had become whole once again—right in front of her. That the sword of Joan of Arc had somehow chosen her and was now the sword of Annja Creed.

But they needed to get into the manhole.

Annja made a decision. “Can you go back down to the hole in the fence and see if there were any tools there?”

“What are you going to do?”

She pointed. “I’ll scout ahead and see if there’s anything I can use. Otherwise, I’ll sneak up and see if we can avoid the manhole trip.”

Annja watched him go and then moved out into the road, locating the manhole cover. It was bolted down. This was going to have to be quick.

She reached into the otherwhere and grasped the sword, which hung there, waiting for her. Holding it in her hands flooded her system with strength. The sword blade cast a grayish glow into the night, and Annja desperately hoped it wouldn’t attract anyone.

She shoved the point under the lip of the cover and then pried with all of her strength. She heard the bolts give one at a time, reluctantly at first, but then they came off fast.

Once they were out, she leaned into the sword and the cover came loose.

Annja slid it back slowly, hoping the grating sound on the asphalt wasn’t as loud as she thought it was.

She shoved the FLIR into the hole and scanned around. A few rats scurried for cover, splashing through the darkness.

But otherwise, it seemed deserted. Annja put the sword away and waited for Frank to return.

Another thirty seconds passed before he came hustling around the corner with a big screwdriver. He held it up like a trophy until he saw Annja squatting near the opening.

He dropped to all fours. “How the hell did you manage that?”

Annja frowned. “I found a pry bar farther up. But of course once I got the lid up, I dropped it down there somewhere. Probably never find it now.”

Frank shrugged. “At least you got it open.”

“Yeah.”

He looked into the hole. “We really have to go in there?”

“If we want to get to the crime scenes, yes.”

Frank blanched. “It stinks down there.”

“And it’s only going to get worse.”

Frank eyed her. “Does any of this stuff ever bother you?”

Annja nodded. “All of it. Now get going.”

He hesitated and then jumped. Annja heard him splash and then followed him. It was a short drop of only five feet. Annja stood and hauled the manhole cover into place. At least now they hadn’t left a calling card behind.

Frank’s voice cut through the darkness. “Flashlight coming on. Watch your eyes.”

Red light lit up the culvert. Annja looked ahead and then behind them. “Which way?”

Frank pointed. “There.”

“On we go.”


Chapter 9



In the darkness, even with the red flashlight illuminating part of the culvert, it was difficult to see exactly what lay ahead. Annja sloshed through the dank water and tried her best to breathe through her mouth so she wouldn’t have to put up with the intense stench. There was no way she and Frank would surprise anyone, making as much noise as they were.

Behind her, Frank retched twice. “This is horrible.”

“The things we do for a story,” she replied. “You think this is bad? I could tell you stories that would make you run home screaming to your mother.”

“Leave my mother out of this.” He retched again. “How much farther?”

She shrugged. Stooped as she was it was impossible to get a good read on where they were. “Maybe a few hundred feet.”

“Whose idea was it to drop into a sewer again?”

“You were the one who wanted to come along on this jaunt in the first place. You want to blame someone, blame yourself. You could be asleep right now.”

“Yeah, but we wouldn’t be able to see this in the morning with Pradesh.”

“Exactly.”

Annja thought she saw something ahead. “Turn out the flashlight.”

“What? Why? I don’t want to trip and fall face-first in this stuff. The puddle was bad enough.”

“I think we’re coming out of the tunnel. Kill that light.”

Frank muttered something but shut the flashlight off. Annja stopped and peered. Yes, there was definitely an opening up ahead of them. The question was: Where did it open up? The last thing Annja wanted was to come out and be exposed.

She’d have to scout.

“Stay here.”

“What? No way. I’m not staying in this stinking cesspool any longer than I have to. Let me go with you.”

Annja glanced back. “You want to take this one?”

“Better than staying here in the sewer.”

Annja stepped aside. “Fine. Go scout the scene but try not to make any noise, all right? I need to know that it’s clear for us to proceed.”

Frank mock saluted her and then pushed past. “I’ll be back.”

“Thanks, Arnold.”

Annja watched him plod through the few remaining feet of tunnel and then disappear outside. She closed her eyes and prayed silently. Please don’t screw this up.

When she opened her eyes, Frank was in front of her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Just hoping you didn’t walk into an ambush.”

“Ambush?” Frank frowned. “Annja, we’re not playing ‘Call of Duty’ here. It’s just trespassing.” He shrugged. “Well, plus the possibility of a monster.”

“Which I take it you did not run into.”

“Right.” Frank turned. “The culvert ends in a ditch, and according to my map, it puts us right about where we need to be. I saw what looked like crime-scene tape a few yards away.”





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