The Sacred Vault_ A Novel - Andy McDermott [90]
Kit thought for a moment, then smiled broadly. ‘Do you like cricket?’
17
Bangalore
‘I don’t like cricket,’ Eddie muttered as he entered the grandstand.
‘That’s because you lack taste and class,’ Mac joked, coming through the gate behind him.
‘I don’t know why you like it. I mean, you’re Scottish. It’s not exactly your national sport.’
‘Scotland has a fine cricket team.’
‘Yeah, and when was the last time they won anything?’
Mac made a faintly irritated sound. ‘It’s about the sportsmanship, not the winning.’
‘Bet you don’t say that when England lose, do you? And it’s the most boring sport imaginable. Give me footie or Formula One any day.’
‘I don’t think you’ll find this boring,’ Kit said, catching up to them with a heavy bag - a flash of his ID had allowed it to be brought into Bangalore’s M. Chinnaswamy stadium without being searched. ‘Indian matches aren’t like yours.’
Mac raised an eyebrow as he took in the scene. ‘You’re not joking.’
If British cricket events were staid and reserved, this was more like a carnival that happened to have a cricket match going on in the middle of it. Music blasted from loudspeakers, the crowd singing along, clapping and even pounding out beats on makeshift drums. Flags and banners waved, and in front of the grandstand was a display that would have left any blazer-wearing member of the Marylebone Cricket Club choking on his gin and tonic as a trio of cheerleaders danced and gyrated.
Eddie grinned. ‘Okay, Kit, you’re right - this is already a hundred times better than any other cricket match I’ve ever seen.’
Mac huffed, then continued along the grandstand towards his seat while Eddie and Kit descended the steps to find theirs. They had chosen their positions carefully; Eddie was in the front row with a couple of empty seats around him where Khoil - and Nina - could sit when they arrived, with Kit a couple of rows behind so he could observe events, and if necessary make a rapid exit with the Codex. Mac was further round, equipped with binoculars to give Eddie advance warning of potential trouble.
Eddie sat, watching the people filing into the grandstand around him. Most were male, displaying a mixture of ages and clothing styles; none seemed remotely interested in the balding Caucasian in the front row, the cheerleaders dominating their attention.
He glanced back at Kit, who responded with a small nod. Further away, he saw Mac in his seat, more men taking their places around him. So far, so good. He took out his phone and attached a Bluetooth headset to one ear, then entered a number. ‘Okay, Mac. Give me a check.’
‘I see you,’ said Mac, ‘and I see Kit. No sign of Nina or this Khoil fellow.’
‘Well, it’s not time for the exchange yet. Anyone look suspicious?’
‘Not that I can see. Just a lot of very excited cricket fans.’
‘Now that’s suspicious.’
‘You just don’t appreciate the subtleties of the game. Now Kit on the other hand—’
‘Yeah, I had to put up with you both wibbling on about it the entire bloody flight down here. Maybe you should adopt him.’
‘Does that mean I can finally get rid of you? I only have time for one surrogate son.’
Eddie laughed, then took another look round. Still no sign of Nina or Khoil. ‘Keep your eyes open, Dad. Let’s see what happens.’
With great fanfare, the match began. Eddie feigned interest while keeping watch. The first innings ended, marked by music and another butt-shaking dance from the cheerleaders. Second innings, third. Then: ‘Eddie,’ said Mac over the headset. ‘To your left.’
Eddie turned to see Khoil coming down the steps. No Nina. He checked if anyone else was approaching from the other side, and saw the man who had choked Nina with the plastic bag. Kit gave Eddie a concerned look, but an almost imperceptible shake of the head told him to stay put and maintain a watching brief.
Khoil sat to Eddie’s left, the man in black on his right. ‘Mr Chase,’ said the billionaire.
‘Mr Khoil,’ Eddie replied. ‘Can’t help noticing you’ve forgotten something.’
‘As have you,’ said