Chapter 35

Lena stopped the Pajero, yanked the hand brake and sat back.

Arif looked around, unable to fathom where they were or why she had driven them to this spot.

All he could tell was that they were somewhere in the far north of Bombay's suburbs. The Powai area, in a by-lane very close to the Hirandandani complex. With a few minutes drive of Powai Lake, the first of five catchment lakes that supplied the city with its water supply. He knew this because he had once run a small textile business out of a warehouse nearby, one of the many ventures that had gone belly-up over the years, and one which even his munificent father-in-law didn't see fit to resurrect. All his memories of this area were tainted by that period of ill-inspired effort and financial loss.

The houses in this lane were all row houses, identical, neatly designed little bungalows marching in a row up the hill. The road was obviously a private one and was well-maintained, with trimmed hedging on either side and saplings that seemed to have been recently planted.

It was the kind of idyllic residential complex that architects' brochures invariably promised, but which their finished projects rarely delivered in reality. A board overhanging the unadorned iron gates welcomed "Members Only" to The Perfumed Garden. Strange name, he thought.

Arif glanced back at Lena, expecting her to say something, to explain. She had lit a cigarette and was smoking it leisurely.

"Nice neighbourhood," he said. "Are you trying to sell me a house here?"

She smiled beneath the Raybans.

"Even if I was," she said, "these houses aren't for sale to people like you."

That sounded vaguely like a put-down. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're married. They only sell to singles here."

Arif wondered whether she was pulling his leg. "I've never heard of any place that sells houses only to singles!"

"That's because they don't hand out press releases to national newspapers about the fact. Trust me. It's easier getting an appointment with Dhirubhai Ambani than buying a house here. Fact is, most people don't even know places like this exist in India. It's a well-kept secret."

She rolled the window down and tossed out the cigarette. Arif noticed that it was only half-smoked, just like the one she had smoked the previous night at Sin City. Lena was the sort of person who discarded things when they bored her, without a second's thought.

"All right, so I'm honoured that you let me into the secret. Now, can we get to the point?"

She looked at him, her eyes still inscrutable behind the Raybans, like a large predatory insect examining her prey. "Your wife, remember? You wanted to know where she went."