Chapter 12
W
henever he returned from being out in the dust and smog, among the seething masses, Kreeger immediately cleansed himself with cold running water. He was as dedicated to this ritual as he was to the brushing of his teeth after every greasy meal. He would peel off his sweaty clothes and wash away the grime, the sooner the better. And tonight’s foray had given him a lot to rinse off. But no sooner had he stripped off and plunged under the gushing showerhead, than the telephone rang. He stamped wet footprints on the carpet between the bathroom and the bedside table and picked up.‘Ah Maynard,’ he said, dripping.
‘Doctor, so sorry to keep pestering you on this, but we have to move quick.’
‘Of course, but there is something that I must tell you . . .’ He hesitated. ‘. . . I have just made a call back home, to my wife . . .’ He hated excuses and suddenly felt like the fat boy from school trying not to be sent away on camp. Another pause. Had he not already agreed? He could not change his mind again, could he?
‘What is it doctor? You are still alright to go aren’t you?’
‘Yes, yes. I don’t want to be out of touch with Maria for too long, that’s all.’ Why bother Filcher with the details. ‘I have given your telephone number to my sister-in-law. She will call you if there is any change with my wife—her name is Christina Lopez. You must promise to keep in touch with me, Maynard.’
‘James, is everything alright? Back home I mean.’
‘Yes, I think so. It should be fine for another day or two, but . . .’
‘So, no need to worry. You can count on me, Doctor. I will try to keep in touch with you and get hold of you the minute your sister-in-law calls. Don’t worry. Oh, I almost forgot why I called. Try to be ready by three tomorrow afternoon and I’ll take you over to the Western Bus Terminal.’
‘What?’
‘Oh, yes, I didn’t tell you did I? It seems that Pei Lin’s airport hasn’t been built yet. The only way down there is on an overnight bus. They call them wild-chicken busses, but for the life of me I don’t know why. So sorry, Doctor. I’ll pick you up at three then, tomorrow afternoon.’