To give you a feel and flavour of my second thriller, “Lucky For Some, 13” here are a few extracts:
“On the 13th floor of ‘Opulence’, Alice looked at her computer. It was past 11 p.m. on the night of September 9. The room was quiet apart from the hum of the air-conditioning. There was no news from Dash. She had called several times. Each time the recorded message told her his phone was switched off. How come? Even if he was in a meeting or likely to be unduly delayed, he would normally text her between meetings or appointments. A ping announced the arrival of a new email in her in-box. She saw it and her blood froze as she read:
From: Administrator, Blue Bay General Hospital
To: Alice Hatchman
Subject: Your donation
Dear Ms. Hatchman,
The patient you were kind enough to sponsor, Mrs. Flora DeSegunez, aged 53, has been admitted for brain surgery. Her operation will begin around 1.45 p.m. today, September 9, 2010. We are confident that with our excellent medical expertise and nursing skills the operation will be a great success. However, considering the risks involved in this complicated case, the final success of the operation will be known only on September 11, 2010. Your generosity has made this operation possible for the patient. We hope you will find joy in having made such a meaningful contribution.
Wilma J. Nesterman
Alice felt her heart pounding. She stood up to catch her breath. Her pulse raced. The fateful day was here. The mission Imad had spoken for so many years would shortly begin. Her moment of triumph, when she could avenge the humiliation heaped on her years ago, was fast approaching. She felt high with a feverish excitement. Her instructions had been very clear. She would get an email from the Blue Bay Hospital. The time mentioned for the operation in the mail would be the time their operation in India would commence.
Waiting for Rita who had popped into the rest room to touch up her make up or raise her short skirt even higher, the senior Mrs. Motiram blushed when Des Hallory walked up to her. He bowed in an old world courtly gesture, in deference to her age. His Texas drawl was very pronounced.
“Howdy, Mrs. Motiram! How you doing?” he asked.
“Howdy, ji,” she cooed, “Nothing doing. Waiting for my bahu, my daughter-in-law.”
Des saw the young daughter-in-law clip clop her way gingerly towards them on stiletto heels. Rita Motiram, Dinesh’s wife, wore a short black miniskirt which seemed slightly bigger than the designer bag that flapped against her white thigh as she swished towards them. Her brief top, thought Des, may be smaller than his handkerchief. It revealed more than it covered.
“Hi, Mr. Hallory! How are they falling today?” she exclaimed giving him a bright smile.
She blew him a kiss and walked away towing her mother-in-law behind her. She wanted to park her with the other oldies before getting on with the party. The sari draped older lady and the short skirted younger one were two faces of a country that will never cease to fascinate me, thought Hallory. Rita saw General Dutta waving excitedly to her. She decided he was the man. She would talk for a few minutes and slip away leaving her mother-in-law in his custody. The senior Mrs. Motiram was determined to practice her English conversation skills in this party. She was paying a young lady an awful lot of money for personalized classes. She didn’t know much of English but she was a conscientious student. Her husband and sons had told her that knowing English was a must in ‘Opulence’. She was learning the language with a lot of interest.