Shadow Play by Rajorshi Chakraborti Read Free Book Online Page B

usually quieter; then I can sit down and pamper you. I know they all appear the same as you walk past them, and they all claim that
Prince
Charles’ (at this, he winked and raised a finger) ‘has visited and praised them, but come into ours and let the food speak for itself. It would be my pleasure.’
    â€˜Are you still going to have me watched?’
    â€˜To be honest, that’s not up to me and I don’t know what they will decide. Perhaps things will change now that you’re aware of the position. But don’t let it worry you. No one either way will be told a thing. And anyway, you won’t be aware ofwho it is or even if there is someone, so if I were you I’d just put it out of my mind and go about things as usual. As I said, our real concern from now on is professional, in case we need you and you are not in London. So Mr Charles, go on doing what you do best; go on being a free man.’
    I stood at the window to watch as he crossed the street, but he surprised me by turning around and waving. My plans had begun forming before he’d even reached the reception desk. Of course they were going to tail me. Now I had to estimate the size of their outfit. Either they were huge and had a relay system, in which there were people in every part of London who were contacted in case I was approaching their area and picked up the trail when they spotted me, or there were fewer people who took it in shifts to stay with me. Or perhaps they were so large that the relay operated on a street-by-street basis with the men behind me constantly changing, so that there was never any one person for me to become aware of. Yes, that was what must have happened, because I’d certainly tried to remain alert to the possibility of being tailed, especially during the first few days.
    For the first time that afternoon I grew aware of my heartbeat. Everything had happened so fast that my mind had been racing – absorbing, sifting, calculating and racing. Now I tried to recall the conversation, to boil it down in my head so I could alight firmly upon the essentials. Which of Faisul’s claims could be dismissed outright as lies? Although, he’d made fewer claims than insinuations. Well then, which of his insinuations were exaggerated, intended just to intimidate me? But he hadn’t insinuated so much as hinted: actually, he hadn’t even hinted, he’d just not specified anything. Beyond the fact which they were taking for granted that they were hiring meas a professional killer, Faisul had managed to leave without clarifying anything. But who were ‘they’: how had I managed not to make him answer? They could be anybody, from a large local gang to international-scale mafia, gun-runners, terrorists, dealers in drugs or women. Jesus Christ, they could be a law-enforcement agency: he could have been talking about MI6 for all I knew. Either they had decided to try me out, and if it didn’t work, to pass me on to the police, or they’d cut a deal with the cops.
    Consider their scale, their degree of expertise, most of all their confidence. And why just MI6 if you paused to ponder it, why not some sub-continental or Middle Eastern government? In such matters any permutation was possible. And who could be certain of how much Faisul knew: why should I even believe that he was the one who witnessed me? Maybe he was just their face. It suited them that my mind should remain confined to Brick Lane so that I didn’t make any other associations.
    I had to clear my head of such rubbish, none of which was actually important. In such speculation lay ruin. I had to begin from facts. First, I couldn’t work for anybody; it was impossible. I couldn’t do this for hire: I was sure I could never perform if any one else knew. And second, I would never figure out who they were. It would only paralyse me if I stopped to consider the scale of what had descended upon me. What were my