“I know, in the past, white men had all the advantages, but now it’s different. We have all kinds of laws in place. Whenever we hire a new person at the police department, we always put diversity at the forefront. We’re actually looking to hire women and minorities over white men. How can you say that’s discriminatory?” As usual, Barry’s agitation ramped up when Marlee challenged him.
“Are you required to hire a minority or a woman?” Marlee asked, already knowing the answer.
“No, but we try our best.”
“What are the criteria besides experience and education?” Marlee asked.
Barry paused for a moment, getting his bearings before continuing. “We look for someone who can work well in the community. Someone who will fit in with the other officers. We want a fellow officer to understand the ways of the department and how to ethically carry out the role of a police officer,” Barry said.
“So, you’re looking for someone just like yourselves,” Marlee said, now standing and facing Barry toe to toe. “Just like the group of white guys that already work there.”
“No! Not at all. We…” Barry stopped speaking once the light bulb went on.
“You’re looking for someone who’s a good fit for the department, and that means more of the same. A man in a turban or a woman is different and might make the other officers uncomfortable, so it’s best to go with the white man, right?” Marlee challenged.
“I never looked at it like that before. I just thought we were trying to find the best person for the job,” Barry said.
“I believe you Barry. I don’t think you or most of your coworkers meant to be discriminatory, but here’s what happens. People tend to hire people just like themselves unless they are forced to look outside their comfort zones. Studies have shown this time and time again. A woman or a minority person knows they’re on slippery ground once they’re hired and go out of their way not to cause trouble. If they speak up, regardless of whether or not they’re right, they risk losing their job. I think this is even more prevalent in India when it comes to women in the work place.” Marlee finished her glass of wine and poured them each another. Her intent wasn’t to embarrass or intimidate Barry, but rather educate him on the situation of others not like him. But she also liked proving him wrong. Barry was super competitive, and she liked knocking him down a peg whenever she had the chance.
Barry lowered his head. She couldn’t tell if he was contemplating his previous beliefs, or if he was preparing for further battle. Before he could say a word, Marlee spoke up. “I know you have two sons. But imagine if you had a daughter. What would you want for her? Would you want her to have the same rights and responsibilities as your sons or would you expect her to be treated differently just because she was a girl?”
“No, of course not. It’s just so hard to figure out.” Barry sat back on the bed, the air knocked out of him. “What should I do? I always thought I did a good job respecting women and minorities. Now I’m thinking maybe I should have done things differently, especially when we hired our newest officer.”
“I wish I knew the answer. We had an African American man apply for a position in our department last year, and he was clearly not a good choice. He made sexist comments directly to me, had poor teaching evaluations from his previous university, and didn’t have a research agenda. Our students’ comments about him were unfavorable after he gave his teaching presentation. I couldn’t advocate for him because of his obvious deficits, and we went with another candidate. As chair of the search committee, I had to fill out a lengthy document affirming that the reason we didn’t hire him had nothing to do with race.” Marlee recalled the situation like it was yesterday. Her stomach still clenched when she thought someone would think the exclusion of this candidate was racially motivated.
“So, what’s the answer?” asked Barry, always ready to boil everything down into the simplest form.
“I don’t know. We always have to be alert to our own biases and the biases of others. And that’s not an easy thing to do.”
“You won’t want to hear this, but it’s easier to just ignore it,” Barry replied.
“Of course, it is. That’s what we’ve been doing for generations. That’s why not much has changed. If we continue hiring and promoting people similar to ourselves, it leaves out so many qualified people who will enrich our institutions. I’m not saying we should hand over jobs and promotions to people who are undeserving, but I think there are plenty of minorities and women who could’ve been hired and promoted but weren’t because someone chose to ignore it. And that’s why things continue.”
A bottle and a half of wine makes for a good discussion enhancer, and the conversation flowed from one topic to another until they returned to the topic of Raj’s death and what happened. “It’s possible that he died of internal injuries, especially since he was beaten unconscious,” Marlee said.
“Could he have been beaten again by his brothers or even poisoned?” Barry asked.
“Meena, the department secretary, said that Raj was gay. If that’s true, then why are so many others insisting he’s straight?”
“If you can trust everything Meena says,” Barry commented, his police officer cynicism always present. “For all you know, she could have a motive for lying too.”
“True, but I have a good feeling about her. She seems credible.” Marlee often went with her gut feeling, whereas Barry preferred everything to be black and white. He didn’t trust a person until they gave him reason to do so. On the other hand, Marlee trusted people if she got a positive vibe from them.
Barry rolled his eyes. “How about Raj? You liked him at first, and it seems he did nothing but lie and manipulate you.”
She sniffed, not only because Barry was right but because Raj had played her for a fool. “My methods aren’t a hundred percent effective, but neither are yours!”
Giving an answer wouldn’t benefit anyone at this point, so for once in his life, Barry let it drop. “Say, what time is it? I need to find a hotel.”
“How long are you staying?” Marlee asked, hoping that it was more than two days but less than five. It would be fun to hang out with Barry, for a short time. After a few days, he started to really get on her nerves, and he probably felt the same.
“At least a week, but I can stay longer if necessary. My ex has the kids, and my chief understands the situation, so I can extend my stay.”
“Oh, no. I’m sure everything will be figured out within a few days.”
Marlee walked with Barry over to the Empire Hotel, where she’d bought wine when she first arrived in New Delhi. Even though it was only a few days ago, it seemed like weeks given all that had happened in the short time she’d been there.
When they arrived, the concierge ran over to her asking, “Do you want more wine?”
“No, I’m here with my friend. He needs to find a hotel room while he’s here, and I remembered how nice you all were, so I brought him here. And on second thought, I will buy more wine. Six bottles please, in a bag.”
The concierge beamed at the compliment as he led them to the front desk and said something in Hindi to the desk clerk. The desk clerk smiled broadly and wrote down the room rate on a piece of paper and slid it over to Barry. His jaw promptly dropped, not realizing the amount was in rupees, not American dollars. Once the currency conversion was made, Barry was happy to secure a hotel room for such a bargain.
Barry and Marlee walked back to her apartment so he could gather his belongings. They each carried a cloth bag filled with bottles of wine. As a bonus for providing the hotel with a new client, the concierge threw in two free six packs of Kingfisher beer. Barry secured his duffle bag and left for the Empire Hotel to inspect what would be his new home for the next week. Marlee put the beer in the fridge and set the red wine on the floor, still a bit tipsy from the two bottles she and Barry consumed that afternoon. She pulled the covers up on the bed and stretched out to think about Raj and his untimely death. Try as she might,
Marlee couldn’t shake the feeling that Raj’s death was intentional. She didn’t believe it was an unintended consequence of a beating. Someone, or multiple people, had targeted him and made sure he died sooner rather than later.
Justice is better than admiration.
Indian proverb
Chapter 16
In typical Marlee fashion, she fell asleep as she was contemplating who was responsible for Raj’s death. Nothing brings about a good nap quite like deep thought and a healthy dose of wine. A steady knocking on the door woke her up. Barry was his usual charming self, demanding to know what she’d done with her time since he left.
“I’ve been busy thinking about who had a motive to kill Raj,” Marlee croaked. Her curly auburn hair was matted on one side, and she had the expression of someone just woken from a deep sleep. The crisp rayon blouse she’d put on under her suit that morning contained more wrinkles than smooth areas.
With squinted eyes, Barry surveyed Marlee’s appearance, immediately chalking up her claim as bullshit. The old Barry would’ve challenged Marlee on her assertion, but years of sensitivity training at work and a few months of couples counseling before his divorce taught him that not everything he thought needed to be vocalized. “Did you come up with any new ideas?”
“Here are the people I think realistically had a motive to kill Raj: his two brothers, other family members that we don’t know anything about, one of his fellow grad students, Eleanor’s husband, or someone else we haven’t considered,” Marlee said, waking up.
“The list of people we haven’t considered is a mile long. So is the list of Raj’s relatives,” Barry pointed out as he plopped down on the lone chair.
“That’s why I think we should focus on Raj’s two brothers and the others in the house including his parents and sisters-in-law. Also, I think we should check out Eleanor’s husband and the other grad students in the sociology program who may have had a grudge against Raj for any reason,” Marlee said.
“Sounds like a good plan. It’s about supper time now, so how about we go to visit Raj’s family in a little bit?” Barry was already adapting to Delhi time and figuring out the rhythms of the culture. Marlee knew that typical Indian suppers could take hours, so if they arrived too early, it would be seen as rude since they’d be interrupting not only the meal, but sacred family time.
“Should we try some of that beer the hotel staff gave you?” Barry asked.
“I want to have a clear head when I go there to talk to the brothers. How about we taste the beer when we come back?”
Barry nodded his assent, even though he really wanted a beer right now. “You should see my room at the hotel. It’s really nice. I can’t believe the price I paid. It’s a four-star hotel, and I paid less than I would at the Super 8 back in the states.”
As he rambled on about hotel prices and quality, Marlee’s mind wandered back to her discussion with Eleanor that morning. She had a good feeling about Eleanor as a person, but Marlee couldn’t be sure if she was lying about being pregnant or having an affair with Raj. Within a few months, she’d know if Eleanor was in fact pregnant, but she may never know the true status of her relationship with Raj. Thinking back to her discussion with Meena, she remembered how flustered she became when Marlee asked questions about Eleanor. I think I need to corner Meena and see what she knows about the rumors of Eleanor and Raj having an affair. But if the rumors are true, will she tell me? She might lie to protect the image of the Sharma family.
Barry nattered on about hotels, including the fancy place he and his cop friends stayed in Kansas City when they participated in a regional dart tournament last fall. “I know Super 8 is one of the cheapest motel chains, but they don’t have much for amenities. I’m not a guy who needs a lot of extras, but I like a swimming pool and a gym. After I’m done with my conference or whatever I’m there for, I like to lift weights and maybe run on the treadmill for a bit. Then it’s great to have a pool to relax in afterwards. A bar and restaurant are also a plus, but not a deal breaker.”
Marlee rummaged around in her book bag and pulled out the pastries she nabbed from the department meeting that morning. “We don’t have time to get supper, but here’s some food from my meeting. Not really sure what all this is, but it appears to be pastries and sweets of some kind. So far, everything I’ve had here has been delicious.” The last part was said to ease Barry’s fears of food any more ethnic than pizza.
“What are these things?”
“They’re deep-fat-fried and covered in sugar. How bad can they be?” Marlee asked, taking a huge bite.
Marlee and Barry left her apartment after devouring every single one of the pastries she’d brought home from the department. She called Riya before departing the apartment to verify the route to Raj’s home.
As they walked from the bus stop to Raj’s home, Marlee gave Barry a quick tutorial on how to behave. His blunt manner would not be well-received at the traditional family home, and Marlee didn’t want to upset them any more than necessary. Regardless of what had happened, their son was dead, and respect needed to be given.
From outward appearances, the Sharma home looked just as it had the last two times she’d been there. The calm exterior most certainly belied the angst going on within the home as Raj’s parents mourned the loss of their son.
Since it was a time of grieving, Marlee and Barry both dressed up to go Raj’s home. She wore an ankle length navy blue dress and matching jacket while Barry was clad in black dress pants, a green Oxford shirt, and a print tie. He had resisted wearing a jacket since he was still sweating, unaccustomed to the heat and humidity. They made a striking couple as they waited outside the front door, gathering up the courage to knock.
Sameer, Raj’s middle brother, answered the door and scowled upon seeing them. He started to shut the heavy door, but Marlee thrust half of her body across the threshold, making it impossible for him to nudge her out of the way.
“It is a very, very sad time for our family, and we are not entertaining visitors right now. Please understand,” Sameer said in a polite tone, underpinned with a menacing look in his eyes.
“I heard, and we are here to offer our heartfelt condolences,” Marlee said, her voice cracking with emotion. Regardless of all the lies he told, Raj was still a young man struck down in his mid-twenties. He may have been a shit heel now, but it was possible that he could have pulled himself together and become a better person. Now there was no longer any chance of reformation.
Mommy-ji walked by and invited them in, pushing her son out of the way and hushing his objections. “Please, you are always welcome in our home.” Her eyes were red, and she carried an embroidered handkerchief in her hand.
“We are so sorry for your loss. We came by to offer our condolences and see if there was anything we could do. This is Barry,” Marlee said, gesturing toward her companion. “He came to visit, and said he wanted to come with me to offer his sympathy as well.”
“Follow me,” she said, walking toward the large dining room where Marlee ate supper with Raj when she went for her unexpected marriage interview. The room was overflowing with people of all ages. “Please, help yourself to food and drink.” Mommy-ji pointed toward the buffet area, loaded with steam trays of food, platters of fresh vegetables and desserts, and urns of chai.
Mommy-ji dabbed at her eyes and began to sob. She turned and left Marlee and Barry on their own, standing out like two sore thumbs. Not only were they the only Westerners, but they were also the only ones in western dress. The women were all clad in saris and the men wore tunics, tan pants, and turbans.
It was a stoic group, as funeral gatherings tend to be. Once Mommy-ji left Barry and Marlee, the whole room became quiet, and all eyes were upon them.
Unsure of what to do and not recognizing anyone in the oversized room, Marlee grabbed Barry’s arm and led him to the buffet. “But I’m not hungry,” he whispered. “We just ate all that food from your department.”
“I don’t care,” M
arlee hissed. “Just take some food and eat it. They will think we’re rude if we don’t eat something. Besides, it will give us something to do while we’re figuring out who to talk to about Raj’s death.”
“You and your stupid ideas, Marlee. I can’t believe I’ve fallen for your hare-brained plans again!” Barry spat back at her.
Marlee was already uncomfortable in a home where she knew next to no one and was the focus of attention. Now Barry was acting up, and she felt the overwhelming need to smack him upside the head. Then she noticed he was digging into the steam tray of goat with stewed tomatoes.
“Finally, some beef,” Barry said with a newfound joy.
“Yes, finally.” Marlee did her best not to laugh as Barry heaped three spoonsful of goat onto his plate. She would tell him what it was, but not until later.
Sameer was the first family member to approach them once they were inside the home. “You will be leaving then after you finish your food?”
“We’re really sorry and just wanted you and your family to know we were thinking of you all. Is there anything we can do to help?” Marlee asked, repeating some of her favorite platitudes.
Blood Feud Page 12