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He snatched up the lid of his laptop, retrieved a number, jabbed it into the phone, dialing incorrectly in his haste, hissing with frustration, having to dial again. He thought he knew the answers to his questions. He had to ask them anyway.
“Dr. Uwwano, please?”
Please let her be there. He glanced at his watch, realizing that he had no idea of the time, and it was morning, and Bangkok was an hour and a half ahead, so she should be at work.
“Mr. Wagh,” she said, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
She sounded guarded. He knew he’d have to proceed carefully. “It’s … well, it’s a bit embarrassing, I’m afraid. Call myself a detective, but when we spoke the other day, there was something rather important I wasn’t quite sure of. You were telling me about the type of reconstructive work that Dr. Jaiyen was responsible for. Cosmetic surgery in the aftermath of a car crash, for example, and I’m afraid something you said hit a nerve and I rather cut you off.”
“Yes,” she said slightly impatiently. “What was it you weren’t sure about?”
“The other applications for her work: what are they?”
“Well, Mr. Wagh, really any instance in which plastic surgery might be needed. I don’t really know what you’re—”
“Gender reassignment, Dr. Uwwano. Was Dr. Jaiyen responsible for gender reassignment?”
“Yes. She was one of the country’s most skilled surgeons in that regard.”
Oh God.
Santosh spoke slowly and clearly, keeping—or trying to keep—his emotions in check. “Dr. Uwwano, I have reason to believe that one of Dr. Jaiyen’s patients is behind a series of murders in Mumbai. I have very good reason to believe this, Dr. Uwwano, you have to trust me. I believe this person has kidnapped one of my agents. The pattern of the murders so far indicates very strongly that this person will kill my agent within the next eight or nine hours unless I can track this person down. Dr. Uwwano, I appreciate that what I am asking you may go against certain principles you hold, but I beg you, can you help me?”
There was silence for a moment at the other end of the line.
“You can ask your question, Mr. Wagh. I can only hope that circumstances allow me to answer.”
“Did Dr. Jaiyen perform gender reassignment surgery on a patient named Aditi Chopra?”
“You’ll have to give me an hour or so to check that information.”
Santosh took a deep breath, cast his eyes to the ceiling of his office. “If you could do that for me, Dr. Uwwano, I would be most grateful. You may be helping to save a young woman’s life, and possibly many other lives too.”
“I’ll see what I can do, Mr. Wagh.”
“Thank you, Dr. Uwwano,” said Santosh. He very, very gently replaced the phone on its cradle, knowing he was this close—this close—to cracking the case.
As long as he was in time to save Nisha.
Chapter 100
AT LEAST IF she were to die here she would go knowing that she had put up a fight. When the chemical-soaked cloth had come over her mouth Nisha had known she was in trouble. But she had also known that in real life chloroform doesn’t work the way it does in the movies—firstly, too much of it would kill her, and secondly, she had had minutes, not seconds, before it would work and she would be rendered unconscious.
She had yelled, twisted, pulled herself up from under her assailant, dabbing with her fingertips on the carpet in the hope of retrieving her gun but then giving up and darting toward the studio, her attacker in pursuit.
She had run into the body of Devika Gulati on the gym studio floor. A dim light had illuminated the yellow garrote around Devika’s neck. Her tongue had poked slightly from between those perfect lips. Her eyes had bulged from her skull. Her death was a foul corruption of her beauty.
Nisha had fallen to her knees, feeling woozy now. She’d prayed the dose of chloroform wasn’t high enough to bring on an allergic reaction. She’d prayed she wouldn’t meet the same fate as Devika there on the studio floor. A pair of jeans-clad legs and sneakers had appeared before her eyes. Sneakers like her own, she’d realized, her brain producing random thoughts now, as her body and mind shut down and darkness descended …
“What happened when you left the orphanage, Aditi?” she called out now.
The figure was there again, she was sure of it. She was being watched.
“I need to piss,” she called.
At last her captor spoke.
“I used to piss myself at the orphanage, when Elina Xavier beat me.”
