Rising Tiger: A Thriller (99)

When they pulled over near the entrance to his building, Vijay turned up the Jaguar’s stereo. “I’ll just be here, listening to music. See you in what? Ten minutes?”

Harvath got out of the car. “If I’m not back in five, I’m not coming back.”

Closing the door behind him, he walked up the street to the apartment complex and stepped inside. At the mailboxes, he searched for the man’s name and unit number, cross-referencing it against the information Gupta had given him. It was a match.

Climbing the stairs, he slid one of the fresh magazines into his pistol and racked the slide, making the weapon hot.

Everything about the building’s construction was cheap and bottom of the barrel. That was a good sign.

Reaching the killer’s floor he walked down the hall, stopping to touch a couple of other apartments’ front doors.

They were crappy, thin, and flimsy. Unless the killer had gone to the trouble and expense to reinforce his, it would be exactly the same.

Arriving at the man’s door, Harvath was pleased to see lights on inside and to hear what sounded like a television.

He positioned himself where he could see the peephole and knocked. When a shadow appeared on the other side and stepped forward to peer through the hole, Harvath kicked the door in.

The door slammed right into the man’s face and sent him tumbling backward. Harvath stepped into the apartment and, before the man could raise the weapon in his hand, shot him twice in the chest and twice in the head.

When Eli Ritter’s killer fell to the ground, Harvath shot him again, just to make sure he was dead, and then left the building.

“All good?” Vijay asked as Harvath got back into the Jaguar.

“All good,” he replied. Holding the gun out, he offered it to Vijay. “Please tell your mother-in-law that I appreciated the loan.”

The ex-cop put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb. “You can tell her yourself when we get to my house.”



* * *



Vijay’s home was alive with family, music, cooking, and laughter. There were so many people there, Harvath couldn’t keep track of them all. A couple of them, however, stood out.

His wife was a lovely, demure woman, a bit on the quiet side. She obviously loved Vijay and he loved her right back. She welcomed Harvath and was extremely gracious, attempting to explain all the traditions as brightly garbed relatives and joyful chaos swirled around them.

When an older woman walked into the kitchen to check on the food, Mrs. Chabra excused herself and went to see if anyone needed a refill on drinks.

“I’d like you to meet my mother-in-law,” Vijay said proudly.

“This is the man from the office?” the older woman asked, approaching Harvath and taking his face in her hands. “I don’t know what you have been doing, but keep it up. I haven’t seen him this happy in years.”

Harvath accepted a hug and then, making sure no one else was watching, removed the pistol, dropped the mag, and locked the slide back, catching the round that had been in the chamber. He handed the weapon to her. “I understand this is yours.”

The woman accepted it and raised it to her nose. “This has been fired recently. You couldn’t have been bothered to clean it?”

Vijay humorously scolded her for being rude to their guest. She smiled, pocketed the magazines, and took the pistol back to her bedroom to lock it away. Harvath accepted a cold beer from his friend.

“I found Pinaki Ali’s mother a job here in Delhi,” he said.

“That’s great,” Harvath replied. “Where?”

“At the embassy, on the kitchen team, provided she can pass the background check.”

“What about Pinaki?”

“He’s been harder to find employment for. Very few companies will hire somebody with a record like his. That being said, I think I have a lead on a sanitation job. We’ll see what happens.”

“You’re a good man, Vijay.”

The ex-cop smiled and pointed to one of the many dishes on the kitchen table. “You should try that. You’ll like it.”

Harvath paused. “Hold on. Are there any ghost peppers in it?”

Vijay laughed and shook his head. “It’s called Onion Bhaji. Spicy, but not too bad. And it’s deep fried, so I know it’s on your list of approved foods.”

He picked one up and gave it a try. It was delicious. Spicy, but not too spicy. He was reaching for a second when he saw a familiar face enter the kitchen on crutches.

“Look who’s here,” said Vijay as he walked over and gave Asha a hug. “I’m so glad you accepted our invitation.”

“It was very kind of you,” she replied as Harvath walked over and gave her a hug as well.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. He could see the bandage on her head and assumed that beneath her sari her right thigh was pretty well wrapped.

“Exhausted.”

Vijay pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and motioned for her to sit. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Can you make a martini?”

“I have an excellent martini maker,” the man said. “I’ll be right back.”

As the ex-cop walked off, Harvath asked, “Who pulled guard duty for Sayed tonight?”

“They transferred him to the Special Group facility,” she said. “Neither Raj nor Gupta wanted to spend the last night of Diwali keeping an eye on him and I obviously couldn’t do it. They’re going to decide what to do with him on Monday.”