TWENTY-FIVE

I checked my watch. It was just after six p.m.

Once more I flicked through the diary. Almost every other appointment had a name next to it. Just who was Golding supposed to meet with at half past six, and why at the temple?

‘Come on,’ I said, grabbing my jacket off the back of the chair and making for the door.

We ran down the stairs, out into the courtyard and over to the garages at the rear of the building.

‘That one’ll do,’ I said, heading for the old Mercedes Simplex.

The car’s black bodywork glinted in the dull light.

‘Have you got the key?’ asked Surrender-not.

‘We don’t need one.’ I pointed to the slot under the car’s radiator grille. ‘You have to crank start it. Now get in,’ I said as I retrieved the crankshaft from its home. ‘The engine has a tendency to kick when it starts and I don’t want you getting injured.’

Sure enough, there was a clatter as I turned the crank, then the glorious noise of the engine exploding into life as the car jerked back like a wild horse.

We were soon speeding through the palace gates, making for the bridge across the Mahanadi. The road was blessedly quiet. Other than a few sari-clad washerwomen returning from the river, the route was the preserve of cows and the occasional bullock cart. I couldn’t help feeling that whoever Golding was supposed to meet, they were somehow connected to what he’d wanted to tell me. Would his contact show? Or would they know of his disappearance and decide to hightail it too? A little part of me even held out the faint hope that Golding might turn up himself; that he’d avoided his abductors and lain low in order to have this meeting. The adrenalin coursed as I accelerated along the dusty road, hoping to reach the temple before six thirty.

The light had died by the time we arrived and I pulled the car off the road a few hundred yards from the compound and parked behind a grove of trees. From there we quietly covered the distance to the temple gates on foot. I sent Surrender-not to scour the perimeter while I took up station under the canopy of a sprawling banyan tree.

The scene seemed tranquil enough. Several old men and women sat cross-legged and quiet outside the entrance. None of them looked like the sort whom Golding would have a meeting with.

Surrender-not, fresh from his circumnavigation of the compound walls, came over.

‘Anything to report?’

‘Nothing, sir. There are no other entrances.’

It meant we would only need to maintain watch on one location.

‘Good,’ I said. ‘In that case, all we have to do is stay here and see who shows up.’

As we waited, others joined the small group at the entrance and within twenty minutes the crowd had swelled to almost fifty people.

Then, on the stroke of seven, a bell sounded. The gates opened and out walked several saffron-clad priests who proceeded to distribute alms. Shortly, the crowd began to disperse and the priests returned to the compound.

‘It doesn’t look like anyone’s coming,’ I said.

‘Should we wait?’ asked Surrender-not.

I checked my watch. It looked like our dash to the temple had been a wild-goose chase. Whoever Golding was supposed to meet seemed to know he’d disappeared. There was little point in hanging around. Besides, Colonel Arora would be expecting us.

‘We don’t have time,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’