![Cosmopath - [Bengal Station 03]](/res/dh/book4.jpg)
Read Online Cosmopath - [Bengal Station 03] by Eric Brown - Free Book Online
Authors: Eric Brown
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luxury hotel room, momentarily confused. The floor-to-ceiling window looked out over stepped gardens, and beyond them the vast expanse of the Bay of Bengal shimmered in the early morning sun.
Sukara stirred beside him. She rubbed her eyes and smiled, and Vaughan reached out and cupped her head. Even first thing in the morning, even with the scar that bisected her face, she was beautiful. They kissed.
“Jeff,” she murmured. “Thanks for last night. I feel a lot better.”
“We’ll be fine,” he said. “Li’ll be fine.”
“Jeff, after what happened yesterday...”
He nodded. The assassin, on top of the news about Li’s condition, was a burden he could have done without. He was torn; part of him wanted to work on the case, find out what the hell was going on. Another part wanted nothing more than to hole up with Su and the kids and concentrate on getting Li cured. But how to pay for that without actively working, and so putting himself in danger?
Pham traipsed barefoot and sleep-fuddled into the bedroom. She climbed between them and snuggled in. “Li’s still sleepy.” She looked up at Vaughan with massive eyes wide below her pudding-bowl fringe. “She’ll be okay, won’t she, Daddy?”
He tweaked her nose. “She’ll be fine in no time,” he said.
A soft double-note chime announced they had a caller.
“Who the hell can that be?” Vaughan said, swivelling out of bed and dressing quickly.
“Maybe room service with a big breakfast,” Pham said. She thought of little but her stomach these days.
He moved from the bedroom and crossed the plush suite.
A screen beside the door allowed the room’s occupant to view the caller. Vaughan activated it and stared with disbelief at the revealed face.
“Mr Vaughan? It is your old friend and servant come to offer his services in this, your time of need.”
“How the hell did you find out where we were?” Vaughan asked.
The old man smiled, looking more than ever like a leathery old turtle. “I have my contacts, Mr Vaughan; there is little that does not come, in time, to my attention.”
“Well, you’d better come in.”
Vaughan opened the door and stepped aside as Dr Rao, diminutive in his impeccable Nehru suit, made a namaste gesture and slipped into the room.
“It’s been a long time, Rao. Three years?”
The old man beamed. “Closer to four, during which, need I say, you have often been in my thoughts.”
Vaughan smiled, wondering what the old rogue wanted this time. He gestured to the sofa before the plate-glass window, and Rao crossed the room and eased himself into its embrace.
“Su!” Vaughan called. “We have a visitor.”
Seconds later Sukara entered the room, knotting her kimono and peering at their guest.
“Dr Rao?” she said.
Vaughan watched conflicting emotions pass across his wife’s face. Six years ago, it was Rao who had informed Sukara of her sister’s death; four years ago, the Brahmin Fagin had helped Vaughan locate Pham and save her life.
“Well, this is a big surprise, Dr Rao,” she said.
“And before breakfast, too,” Vaughan said. “We’re just about to eat? Care to join us?”
“As ever,” Rao said primly, “your generosity cannot be spurned. A salted lassi and idli, perhaps.”
Vaughan dialled up coffee, idli, and toast from room service, and a minute later the wall unit chimed. He carried the tray across to the coffee table and set it down before Rao.
He considered enabling his tele-ability and reading Rao’s motives for coming here. The memory of the last time he’d dipped into the doctor’s mind, however, stilled his hand. He had no real desire to meld with Rao’s cunning, sanctimonious psyche. And anyway, by scanning Rao he’d pick up the girls’ thoughts too, and he’d promised himself that he’d never do that.
Pham joined them, snuggling in between Vaughan and
Sukara stirred beside him. She rubbed her eyes and smiled, and Vaughan reached out and cupped her head. Even first thing in the morning, even with the scar that bisected her face, she was beautiful. They kissed.
“Jeff,” she murmured. “Thanks for last night. I feel a lot better.”
“We’ll be fine,” he said. “Li’ll be fine.”
“Jeff, after what happened yesterday...”
He nodded. The assassin, on top of the news about Li’s condition, was a burden he could have done without. He was torn; part of him wanted to work on the case, find out what the hell was going on. Another part wanted nothing more than to hole up with Su and the kids and concentrate on getting Li cured. But how to pay for that without actively working, and so putting himself in danger?
Pham traipsed barefoot and sleep-fuddled into the bedroom. She climbed between them and snuggled in. “Li’s still sleepy.” She looked up at Vaughan with massive eyes wide below her pudding-bowl fringe. “She’ll be okay, won’t she, Daddy?”
He tweaked her nose. “She’ll be fine in no time,” he said.
A soft double-note chime announced they had a caller.
“Who the hell can that be?” Vaughan said, swivelling out of bed and dressing quickly.
“Maybe room service with a big breakfast,” Pham said. She thought of little but her stomach these days.
He moved from the bedroom and crossed the plush suite.
A screen beside the door allowed the room’s occupant to view the caller. Vaughan activated it and stared with disbelief at the revealed face.
“Mr Vaughan? It is your old friend and servant come to offer his services in this, your time of need.”
“How the hell did you find out where we were?” Vaughan asked.
The old man smiled, looking more than ever like a leathery old turtle. “I have my contacts, Mr Vaughan; there is little that does not come, in time, to my attention.”
“Well, you’d better come in.”
Vaughan opened the door and stepped aside as Dr Rao, diminutive in his impeccable Nehru suit, made a namaste gesture and slipped into the room.
“It’s been a long time, Rao. Three years?”
The old man beamed. “Closer to four, during which, need I say, you have often been in my thoughts.”
Vaughan smiled, wondering what the old rogue wanted this time. He gestured to the sofa before the plate-glass window, and Rao crossed the room and eased himself into its embrace.
“Su!” Vaughan called. “We have a visitor.”
Seconds later Sukara entered the room, knotting her kimono and peering at their guest.
“Dr Rao?” she said.
Vaughan watched conflicting emotions pass across his wife’s face. Six years ago, it was Rao who had informed Sukara of her sister’s death; four years ago, the Brahmin Fagin had helped Vaughan locate Pham and save her life.
“Well, this is a big surprise, Dr Rao,” she said.
“And before breakfast, too,” Vaughan said. “We’re just about to eat? Care to join us?”
“As ever,” Rao said primly, “your generosity cannot be spurned. A salted lassi and idli, perhaps.”
Vaughan dialled up coffee, idli, and toast from room service, and a minute later the wall unit chimed. He carried the tray across to the coffee table and set it down before Rao.
He considered enabling his tele-ability and reading Rao’s motives for coming here. The memory of the last time he’d dipped into the doctor’s mind, however, stilled his hand. He had no real desire to meld with Rao’s cunning, sanctimonious psyche. And anyway, by scanning Rao he’d pick up the girls’ thoughts too, and he’d promised himself that he’d never do that.
Pham joined them, snuggling in between Vaughan and
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