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elative who swears to fend for her.”
“And that I shall,” said Everlee. “She shall have the most advanced practitioners in
London, not these half-wits of the Raj. And I believe the change of scenery shall do her good as
well. Get her away from this place and all its memories – even those memories that we don’t
precisely know we remember, if you follow my drift.”
“I do,” said Davy. The man’s desire to save this woman – and thus himself in the
process – was touching, and therefore worthy of the lie. They were both innocents, after all, their
lives knocked off course in earliest childhood, forced to live out fates that were never fully their own.
I am becoming the dissembler of the group, Davy thought. Dispensing justice along the shape of my
own conscience, and all I can say in my defense is that the two times I have failed to come forward
with all I knew of the truth, I was in Russia and then in India. Lands not my own, places where I
have taken no vow to enforce the law of the realm. If all of this had happened in England, it would
end much differently…I would be forced to say “But this girl is not your sister. Your blood sister,
to use the painfully apt term, goes by the name of Leigh Ann Hoffman and she will be arrested this
afternoon for the murders of three people.” But we are not in England. We are in India where the
only task I have committed to is the freedom of Anthony Weaver. That has been accomplished, and
thus I can allow my sympathies to override my honesty.
“So you say that your group is sailing today,” Michael said, returning to himself a little
as he wiped his face. “On the Fortitude in midafternoon? I wish to go as well. Shall we ride
together to the dock, the three of us? For I plan to hire a driver to take me to that wretched temple and
collect my sister at once.”
“Yes, with any luck we might all be on the same ship,” Davy said. “But you must go on
to the dock without me. I have one more stop to make before I bid a final farewell to India.”
“Ah, India,” Michael said, at last fishing a handkerchief from a pocket and giving his
nose a proper blow. “It confounded us all, did it not? And yet it is still as miraculous and as
spiritual as everyone claims it to be. Do you think you shall ever return?”
“Absolutely not,” Davy said.
Michael smiled. “Nor shall I.”
***
Bombay Jail Infirmary
12:50 PM
Tom ripped open the envelope and scanned the message. Then he glanced toward
Geraldine and Weaver, who had both fallen silent at last. They sat shoulder to shoulder on the small
sofa, holding their empty cups.
“The fingerprints on the glass in Hubert Morass’s hand matched those of Leigh Anne
Hoffman,” Tom said. “Which means, Secretary-General, that you will likely be freed later today.”
And with that, he rose and slipped out the door. Weaver’s comments were no longer relevant, at least
not to the charge of the murders, and Tom wanted to allow the two of them to say goodbye in private.
“So I am to be dismissed,” Weaver said, after the echo of Tom’s slamming door finally
subsided.
“Congratulations,” Geraldine said.
“I owe this to you,” he said.
“You owe me nothing,” she said, pushing to her feet. “I must go.”
“And I shall go with you,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Or I shall entreat you to stay