Robin Cook - Foreign Body

“I know. I saw.”

“You did?” Jennifer stepped off the bricks. She briefly glanced at the half-dozen Indians she’d followed into the shop.

“I most certainly did.”

“I want you Americans out of here,” yelled the owner, after catching the chickens and cramming the poor birds into occupied cages. “I want everyone out of here!”

“Let’s go!” Neil said, keeping himself between the owner and Jennifer. “There’s nothing to be running from.”

Outside, things had pretty much returned to normal. People were no longer in a panic and were beginning to drift back into the street. Shops were reopening, and the two policemen were no longer beating anyone. Best of all, it seemed no one had gotten hurt other than the person who was shot.

“Alright, this is far enough!” Jennifer said, halting in the middle of the alley. She was trembling now that she’d had a moment to think about what she had experienced. It had all transpired so fast. “Do you know what happened?”

“Sort of,” Neil said. “I was behind you trying to catch up when the shooting occurred. I’ve been trying to catch you from the moment you left the hotel. I missed you at the Red Fort.”

“I couldn’t handle visiting it,” Jennifer confessed. “And it turned out that I couldn’t handle the bazaar, either. I was trying to get the cyclist to turn around and take me back to my car when the shots rang out.”

“Anyway, I got to the mosque and I just caught a glimpse of you disappearing on the cycle rickshaw. I had to run through all those people in front of the mosque to try not to lose you in this labyrinth.” Neil made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “I wasn’t even sure which direction you’d gone. But I hurried best I could despite the crowd. Then the moment I did see you, I noticed someone go right up behind you and take out a gun. I yelled bloody murder and started running faster, but a short guy behind the first was faster. He was like a gunslinger. He whipped out his own gun and blam, blam, then yelled ‘Police!’ and held up a badge. That was it. I saw you pitch from the cycle and dash off. It was all I could do to keep you in sight. You really can sprint.”

“You think the guy with the gun was going to shoot me?” Jennifer asked anxiously. She started to raise her hand to her face in consternation but thought better of it.

Neil pressed his lips together and shrugged. “It sure looked like it. I mean, he could have been planning on robbing you, I suppose, but I kinda doubt it. He acted too motivated. Is there anyone that might actually want to kill you?” Neil let the question trail off, suggesting that he couldn’t believe what he was actually asking.

“I’ve kinda frustrated a couple of people, but not enough to want to kill me. At least I don’t think so.”

“Maybe it was a case of mistaken identity?”

Jennifer looked away, shook her head, and laughed humorlessly. “God, what I’ve been doing is certainly not worth getting killed for. No way. If it’s not a mistake then I’m outta here, Granny and all.”

“Are you certain there’s no one really, really angry at you?”

“My granny’s case manager, but it’s her freaking job. It’s not the kind of thing you kill someone over.”

“One way or the other, you are mighty lucky that plainclothes policeman was where he was.”

“You are so right,” Jennifer said. “Come on! Let’s go meet this guy. Maybe he’ll know something. Maybe he was even following the other guy. Now that they have the body, maybe they might know if he was following me or not. It’s worth a try to get some answers.”

Neil reached out and restrained Jennifer. “I don’t advise it.”

“Why not?” Jennifer said, pulling her arm free from Neil’s grasp.

“When I was here last for my medical meeting, I learned a lot about the Indian government and the Indian police from my hosts. It’s best, unless absolutely necessary, to stay clear of both. Corruption is a way of life here. It’s not viewed from the same moral perspective as it is in the West. Whenever you get involved, it costs you money. The CBI, which is the equivalent to our FBI, is supposed to be very different. But in this situation you’ll get yourself caught up with the regular local police. I’m not even certain they wouldn’t put you in jail for inciting someone to pull a gun.”

“Don’t be silly,” Jennifer said, thinking Neil was joking. She started walking back to where the episode occurred. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m exaggerating a little,” Neil admitted, catching up to Jennifer. “But the fact that the local police are corrupt to some degree is apparent to everyone in the know, trust me. Also, so are many of the civil servants for the most part. It’s best not to get involved. If you make any specific request about a crime, they have to fill out an FIR, or First Information Report, and, of course, it has to have five million copies. It makes work for them, and they hate it and hate you, too.”

“A man was killed. There needs to be an FIR.”

“Yeah, but that’s his FIR.”

“The more I think about it, he must have been after me in some form or fashion.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Neil said. “I’m telling you, you’re taking a risk. I was told under no uncertain terms not to get involved with the local police.”

It was hard to walk side by side in the crowd, especially as the crowd got more and more dense the closer they came to the scene. Neil let Jennifer go ahead. Suddenly, she stopped and turned around. “Wait a sec!” she said. “Although I’ve been blown over and distracted by this episode, let me ask you again: What in God’s name are you doing here in India? I mean, the question has popped into my mind several times, but this attempt on my life has tended to dominate my attention.”

“No doubt,” Neil said, trying to think what exactly to say at this point. If it hadn’t been for the excitement, he was going to come right out and apologize first thing. He shrugged, thinking, What’s the difference. “I’m here because you asked me to come and because you suggested you needed me. I didn’t really take that seriously back in L.A. I was more concerned, I’m afraid, about a surfing meet that’s taking place today in La Jolla. Unfortunately, when you walked out prior to any discussion, I got mad, and it took me a while to get unmad, and by the time I did, you were gone.”

“When did you get here?” Jennifer asked.

“Last night. I wasn’t going to disturb you if you were asleep. The problem is they wouldn’t even tell me your room number, so I couldn’t put my ear against your door.”

“Why didn’t you call me to let me know you were coming?”

“Easy,” Neil said with a short laugh of self-mockery. “I was afraid you’d tell me to turn around and go home. I mean, I wasn’t even confident you’d take my call, or if you did take it, knowing you as I do, I wasn’t sure you wouldn’t just tell me to drop dead and that would be that.”

“I might have,” Jennifer acknowledged. “I was more than disappointed at your response. I can tell you that.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t give the situation the significance it deserved at the time,” Neil said.

Jennifer was thoughtful for a moment, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Then she turned around again and pushed through the crowd. The cycle rickshaw was still lying on its side. The body was still there as well, uncovered. With the left side of the face gone and the teeth visible, it looked like it was grimacing.

“That’s the driver,” Jennifer whispered, motioning with her chin toward the emaciated cycle rickshaw driver squatting on the ground. There were several policemen in khaki uniforms standing on either side of him.