The Pearl of Bengal Read Free Page B

open the door of the temple, stole the Bengal Pearl, and then…”
    “…killed Mr. Chandra?” Dash guessed, sounding worried.
    “We don’t know that,” said Agatha, laying her hands on the table. “We only know that he’s disappeared into thin air. But in his phone call, Chandra said to contact Deshpande, the captain of the forest guard. This Captain Deshpande should be able to give us more information about suspects once we arrive in the village,” she concluded.
    At that moment, Chandler started clearing dessert.
    Agatha stopped him. “Leave that, Chandler,” she told him. “Dash will finish it. Go pack some sunscreen and mosquito repellent. We’re going to need it!”
    “Of course, Miss Agatha.” The butler nodded.
    Minutes later, they were in a limousine speeding to Heathrow Airport.
    Dash had told his parents that he’d be staying at Agatha’s for a few days to prepare for an important and difficult exam, which was almost the truth. To save time, he had not gone back to his penthouse. He’d stick with the clothes he was wearing. In place of the hair gel he usually used on his floppy dark hair, he’d tried olive oil.
    “Oh, the mosquitoes are going to love you,” laughed Agatha as they boarded the Air India jet. As always, she had Watson’s traveling case in one hand.
    “Don’t mock my style,” said Dash, taking a seat by the window and burrowing under a blanket. Before they even took off, he was out like a light.
    For the first hour, Agatha read guidebooks about Kolkata and Sundarbans National Park. Then she, too, fell into a deep sleep, with Watson curled up in her lap.
    Chandler didn’t even close his eyes. The seats were too narrow for him to make himself comfortable, so he passed his time poring over a dog-eared flight instruction manual, making notes with a highlighter pen.
    They landed in Kolkata the following morning. Agatha was as fresh as a daisy, while Dash had dark circles under his eyes. He couldn’t stop yawning.
    “One of these days you’ll make it into the
Guinness Book of World Records
,” Agatha teased him cheerfully as they rode the escalator to thebaggage claim. “World champion sleeper!”
    Dash gave his millionth yawn in reply. “It’s changing time zones that destroys me,” he moaned.
    “Right.” Agatha smirked. “Four and a half hours’ difference isn’t that much.”
    “It’s the extra half hour!”
    They picked up their luggage in no time. Chandler showed their passports to the customs officials, and they emerged into the airport’s central atrium.
    It was like a miniature city, crowded and bustling with color. Glittering displays of designer cosmetics sat next to narrow stands selling orange and pink silks, silver bracelets, and beaded necklaces. Women of all shapes and sizes walked past, wrapped in brightly patterned saris. Some of the men wore traditional white or brown clothing and turbans, while others wore business suits.
    In the midst of the crowded bazaar, they spotted a young Indian with bulging calf muscles waving a sign that said RASHID’S RICKSHAW—FASTEST IN KOLKATA!
    “The only thing missing is a snake charmer,” joked Dash.
    “See, that’s where you’re wrong,” a cheerful voice boomed behind him. “I can charm anything, even a cobra.”

    They turned to see a broad-shouldered man with unruly blond hair, a ruddy tan, and a welcoming grin. He looked about thirty years old, and inspite of a little potbelly, he looked very fit. In his beige shorts, tan shirt, and hiking boots, he was the very image of an adventurer.
    “Welcome to India, the most exciting place on the planet!” exclaimed Rudyard Mistery.

A fter vigorously shaking Chandler’s hand, hugging his niece and nephew, and cracking a few jokes about Dash’s olive-oiled hair, Uncle Rudyard reached into his camera bag for an aviator cap and goggles. “Okay, which one of you knows how to pilot a plane?” he asked without preamble. Apparently he couldn’t wait to get back