“So, it’s a scam.”
“It would appear that way,” said Vijay. “Probably insurance fraud.”
“As well as kickbacks from the sale of the stolen motorcycles.”
“That, too.”
“You’ve got a contact in Sanganer, right?” Harvath replied. “The one clean cop in the entire dirty force sort of thing.”
“Unfortunately, in this instance, I have no contacts that can be of help.”
Harvath shook his head. Police corruption really pissed him off.“Corruptio optimi pessima,”he said, citing a famous Latin phrase. “Corruption of the best is the worst of all.”
“Agreed,” responded Vijay. “We have a saying in India. Don’t curse God for creating the tiger. Rather, be grateful that God didn’t give it wings.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“While it’s unfortunate that we can’t seek any assistance from the police in Sanganer, there’s an upside—neither can the people we’re looking for.”
“Which means we have a certain amount of latitude in how we approach things,” said Harvath. “Correct?”
Vijay nodded. “Correct.”
Harvath was continuing to like this guy.
They drove for a little while longer until they entered the roughest part of the Sanganer area. It was every bit as bad as Harvath expected it to be. An absolute slum. The flip side of the vibrant colors and exotic spices so often associated with India.
It was the side of the country that tore at people’s hearts—filth, disease, crime, and absolutely grinding, abject poverty. They hadn’t even set foot outside the car yet and Harvath was ready to leave.
“What’s the plan?” he asked.
Vijay removed a printout from his breast pocket and handed it to him. “This is who we’re looking for. His name is Pinaki Ali. He was the owner of the motorcycle used by Ritter’s killer.”
Harvath studied the driver’s license photo and related information, then checked his watch. “Where do you expect we’ll find him right now?”
“He’s probably at work. The problem is, the Kumars have multiple warehouses and we don’t know which one he’s at. It would be better if we spoke with him outside his place of employment.”
“So, the plan is to sit on his house? Wait for him to come home?”
“We’re going to poke around a little bit,” said Vijay. “See what we can learn in advance.”
When they arrived at Pinaki Ali’s building, Vijay didn’t bother with adrive-by or a slow roll around the block. He pulled the Jaguar right up in front and parked.
“You want me to come in, or stay in the car?” asked Harvath.
The ex-cop looked at him. “Why would I want you to stay in the car?”
Harvath drew a pretend circle around his face with his index finger.
“Oh, no, my friend,” Vijay replied. “Iwantthem to see a white devil. This is serious business. I guarantee you that there hasn’t been a white person in this part of town for years. Maybe even since the British pulled out. Your presence is going to send a big, shocking message. That’s what I want.”
“Well, you’ve got it.”
“I also want some American currency. You have some on you, yes?”
Harvath pulled the wad of cash from his pocket. “How much do you need?”
“A one-hundred-dollar bill if you have one.”