Side Trip to Kathmandu (A Sidney Marsh Murder Mystery Book 3) Read Free Page B

and slept until morning.
    Like I’ve said before, Jay is my best friend, and he is always—well, usually—there when I need him.

 
    Chapter 3
    S aturday is laundry day for many people in my building, so most of the machines were already chugging away by the time I made it down to the basement with my basket, a little after 8:00 a.m.
    I stuffed my clothes into the last empty machine, fed it some quarters, and pressed the start button. Nothing happened.
    Piotr, our tall, wiry janitor, was busy mopping the gray concrete floor on the far end of the room, muttering under his breath in Polish. Someone had put too much detergent in a machine, causing it to stop up and overflow.
    Being unfamiliar with Polish, I’ve always had a problem with Piotr’s name. I used to think it was Pieter, but Janusz told me that’s Dutch.
    Seeing my dilemma, Piotr stood his mop in the bucket, smoothed down his gray-brown hair, and walked over to my machine. He gave it a solid kick with his sturdy black boot, and it immediately started filling with water. I thanked him and he smiled and bowed before returning to his mop.
    It would only be a matter of time, I knew, before Janusz, our building super, appeared to call Piotr from that task to another, one likely far more unpleasant than mopping the basement floor. Piotr lives a dog’s life, working dawn to dark under the lash of Janusz’ tongue.
    I waved at him as I left, and was rewarded with a brilliant smile.
    Back in 4-C, I called Brooke to thank her for the India assignment, but only reached her assistant.
    “Oh, hi, Sidney,” Anna said. “Sorry, Brooke’s not in town. She’s at her villa in the south of France until the India trip. She said if you called to tell you she’ll meet you in New Delhi.”
    “What about the rest of the group?”
    “Everyone is meeting in New Delhi. At the hotel. They are coming in from all over and some are arriving by private jet. At least one of the group will already be there because she lives in India, in Mumbai. She’s an actress. You know, Bollywood.”
    Oh . That explained why there was no air manifest in the packet, just e-tickets for me and Jay. I thought Diana had left the air list out by mistake.
    “Well, when you speak with her again, Anna, will you please tell her that I called, and say how much I appreciate all this?”
    “Sure will, Sidney. Have fun!”
    “Thanks, Anna. I will. ’Bye now.”
    “Ciao.”
    After ending the call, I rechecked the packet and looked more closely at the printout of our e-tickets. The flight from New York to New Delhi was booked for Jay and me on Air India. Middle seats in coach. I didn’t mind so much, but I knew long-legged Jay would be livid.
    And he was.
    The next day at the travel agency, he ranted and raged at our AirDesk, but nothing changed. No upgrade, they said. On specific orders from Diana.
    “I feel your pain, Jay,” Michael said, “but you know I can’t change this reservation without her approval. It would be my job.”
    Jay stormed down to Diana’s office, but she was not there. She and Mr. Silverstein had decided to remain in California all week “on business.” They would not return until after our departure.
    His call to her cell went to voicemail. He sent her a text. No reply. He shot her an email, and an automated out-of-office reply bounced back to him.
    “Sorry, Jay,” said Roz, our receptionist, late that afternoon. She looked up at him from her computer screen. “I can’t reach her either. Not on the phone, not on the computah. She and the boss must be … let’s just say, occupied?” Roz grinned and fluttered her eyelashes so hard that I thought one of the big black lash strips might fly off. She liked Jay a lot and had stopped filing her nails long enough to try to help him track down Diana.
    “Roz, do you know how long my legs will be folded up on that flight? Hours and hours. I’ll be crippled. I’ll be maimed. And I won’t be able to sleep a wink.”
    He had really