‘What are you talking about? You’re my only child, precious to me. I can’t leave you here like this, with an investigation still open. We are investigating this case, aren’t we? And we share the fate together. Yes, we do. I want to see you succeed.’
‘What about Neel?’
‘He’ll have to be patient. Next time he might want to come with me.’
‘Your safety is foremost in my mind, Ma.’
‘Do you think I’ll be able to rest in Kolkata, even for a millisecond, knowing you’re here alone, being pursued by evil men? That’s scary, and we don’t see the full picture quite yet.’ Uma bestowed a smile, her eyes crinkling in a new light. ‘Going back to my Gestalt days … oh, it sounds so overused now but the whole is really greater than the sum of its parts.’
Maya reminded herself of the concept she’d repeatedly heard from Uma: how we anticipate the whole, even when parts are missing. Our brains fill in the missing data and before long a solution emerges.
‘OK, partner,’ Maya said. ‘It’ll be so but, from now on, let’s watch our step. Whoever did this will try a different tactic the next time.’
‘I’ve phoned Atticus and he’s on his way.’
‘You phoned that oddball?’ Even though irked, Maya kept her tone genial. ‘We don’t have the foggiest what his involvement was in Sylvie’s death or whose side he’s on. Even though I’m working for him, I have my doubts.’
‘I’m not finished checking him out yet but I expect he’ll turn out to be OK.’
Hearing a rap on the door, Maya leapt to her feet, looked through the peephole and yanked the door open to let Atticus in.
He muttered a hello to Maya and flew into the room, his face reflecting his concern. ‘Mashima! How are you?’
‘Much better.’ Uma, with a fond expression on her face, gestured for him to sit. She reiterated the incident, concluding with: ‘Didn’t mean to disturb you in the middle of a workday, but I’m so worried about Maya. She’s in and out of the house all day long. Who knows who might be stalking her?’
Atticus’ face was troubled. ‘The freaking truth is both of you now have a Sylvie connection.’
‘Yes, there appears to have been much more to Sylvie than any of us had an inkling about.’ Maya watched Atticus’ face; she tried to gauge his reactions. ‘We didn’t talk about this in great detail earlier. When did you last see Sylvie?’
‘Sylvie disappeared from the meditation scene about six or eight weeks before her death,’ Atticus said, his eyes downcast. ‘No calls, no emails – maybe she didn’t want us to see her. I’d certainly have tried to talk some sense into her head if I’d known any of this was going on but never got the opportunity.’
‘What do you mean you didn’t get the opportunity?’
She was still formulating more questions in her mind when Uma said to her, ‘Going back to the suicide scene … you saw that prayer group …’
Her clever mother. ‘Oh, yes, Ma.’ Maya turned to Atticus. ‘The chanters – you saw them, right? All those people wearing white, pretending to be devotees of some sort? Seemed to me they were well prepared for what happened. At the time, I’d assumed they were supporters of Sylvie and Anna.’
Atticus put on an innocent expression. ‘I didn’t see or hear them.’
Really? Maya gave him a searching look. ‘And did you also not hear the sunglasses dude saying nyet to you? You stopped me from pushing forward. Look, if you want me to investigate this case …’
‘Nyet? What is nyet? What are you talking about? I only stopped you because I didn’t want you to interfere with Sylvie’s wish to step into the next world. Her text indicated so.’
‘That’s outrageous, letting someone—’
Uma’s stare was hot with annoyance. She was only pretending to go along with Atticus; that much was clear to Maya. Uma wanted to draw Atticus out and maintain a flow of conversation despite his lying. Although they were co-conspirators in this, she couldn’t follow Uma’s lead; impatience stopped her.
‘Let me repeat,’ Maya said to Atticus. ‘I heard Sunglasses Man yell out to you in Russian.’
Atticus wore a remote expression. ‘Might that be a figment of your imagination, Maya? And that prayer group around Sylvie and Anna? They were all friends, I’d guess. It sounds like you’re not thinking things through, like you’re developing theories prematurely. Is this how a P.I. should work?’
Disgust pricked Maya’s cheeks. She couldn’t offer any tangible proof of her theory but she had facts to back her up: the prayer group wouldn’t allow her to get closer to Sylvie. And Atticus stood by and let it all happen. ‘As far as I know, neither Sylvie nor Anna had a large social circle. If they did, those people would have showed up at the memorial. Sylvie was quiet and hung out with a few friends, Ivan being the closest to her.’
Atticus’ face flared in anger. ‘That jerk. He’s been seen with my ex-wife recently.’
‘Since she’s your ex, why do you care?’
‘It still hurts,’ Atticus replied hotly. ‘He’s a bad influence. A friend of mine recently saw him with another woman. She’s part-Russian, used to be a drug addict and now sleeps with a cop. Ivan’s choice of friends concerns me, especially if he’s starting something with my ex.’
Maya had stopped listening. Ex-druggie? Jennifer? Justin’s companion and mother of his son, now seeing Ivan?
Atticus checked his watch and erupted from his chair. ‘Gotta go. I’m expecting a client. He’s probably already waiting in the lobby of my building, about to text me.’
Both Maya and Uma were startled by their guest’s sudden movement. But Uma, elegant as always, turned a graceful head toward Atticus. ‘Shall we continue this discussion at another time over chai?’
‘Most certainly, Mashima,’ Atticus said. ‘Meantime, I’ll drive by here periodically to check—’
‘You don’t need to patrol our street,’ Maya said firmly. ‘We can take care of ourselves.’
‘We mustn’t refuse Atticus’ help, Maya,’ Uma said gently, a warning note evident in her voice. Uma despised rudeness – oh, how well Maya understood that – especially when her own daughter exhibited it.
Atticus bade them goodbye and slipped out onto the porch. After closing the door behind him, Maya returned to the living room; she felt drained. ‘He’s lying, Ma, lying by omission.’
‘He’s not a complete liar, only in spots. He’s a work-in-progress. His mouth is shut in fear. He knows Justin is a cop so he’s even more tight-lipped.’
‘A cop who also hangs out with an ex-druggie, like Ivan, apparently.’ Maya chewed her lower lip. ‘I have to wonder if Atticus’ wife has any relevance here other than her being the next in line in what has been a long string of lovers for Ivan. The guys who were following Atticus probably still are, and now his wife is mixed up with Ivan. This is just one big mysterious mess.’
‘It’s a khichuri.’ Uma was referring to her favorite rice-and-lentil dish, taken to perfection with a jumble of other ingredients.
‘Atticus is making a serious mistake by hiding the identity of the guilty parties,’ Maya said. ‘We have to somehow get him to spill out the dark truth.’
A notion glinted in Uma’s eyes. ‘I’ll help you. We’ll have him cough up the details, one samosa at a time. How’d that be?’
Maya gave Uma a thankful glance. ‘We have to be quick, Ma. Sooner or later, whoever is behind this will get Atticus or us, unless of course they get locked up, which is what I intend.’
A faint sound of rustling leaves came from the front yard. Maya rushed over to the window, only to see a squirrel digging through fallen leaves on a flower bed. Tiny, tender strawberries, deployed as ground cover on an adjacent bed and blooming for the second time in the season, peeked out from under their deep green foliage.
Yet Maya could feel a vine of fear creeping along her back. She drew the curtains and returned to her seat, swallowing an ominous feeling of imminent crisis. She speculated that the guru knew more than he h
ad let on. Both he and Ivan had their roles and Atticus was hiding crucial facts. Winsome Jennifer only added to this puzzle. But it was the attack on Uma that caused Maya the most anguish.
I’ll find out what there is to find out, even if it kills me.
TWENTY
Several days rolled by. Although it was six p.m., sunlight streamed through the treetops at the Washington Park Arboretum like shining needles of gold. In the sticky-hot atmosphere hectic with bees, insects, flowers and squirrels, surrounded by a grove of rhododendron, Maya laid out a rose-printed cloth on a picnic table. As she raised her head, she felt someone watching her from behind the grove. An elderly woman with a bulky body and a narrow gaze hurried away, leaving a ripple of unease behind her. Maya stood up; she saw only a receding figure. She reclaimed her seat.
Veen, with her back toward the grove, hadn’t noticed or pretended not to. She looked better than the last time they were together. Her eyes were shinier, her face smoother, her vibrant self somehow peeking through. A gauzy, navy V-neck tunic created a slimming effect around her bulky chest. She’d drawn her dark hair back into a neat ponytail. Lips tinted a glossy pink, she’d rouged her cheeks to match. That pink shade took Maya a few months back to when Veen had appeared especially well-groomed. She often dressed in indigos and magentas and accessorized with gold jewelry. Never the perfume type, she would wear a bold gardenia fragrance. She was often self-absorbed. Her creamy skin had had the glow of sex, or that was how Maya saw it. Veen didn’t care for the men in her office. ‘Too wimpy and not good in the sack.’ So who had it been? Maya didn’t get to see Veen much in those days; her evenings were often filled. It hurt the worst when Veen didn’t confide in her. But that was Veen. She could cut someone with her bluntness as well as her silences.
A taiko drum boomed in the distance. ‘Hey, I forgot all about it until now.’ Veen pushed away a curl that fell over her eyes. ‘That strange phone call I got, supposedly from one of Sylvie’s classmates at the meditation center – Lola is her name. She blabbered for a while about the tragedy, what a big loss it was, et cetera, asked how I was taking it, then questioned me about the guru. What guru? I know nothing about him or his center.’
Maya hid her shock, noted the stiffness of Veen’s posture and her unblinking gaze. ‘Did you check to see if Lola was really from—?’
‘No, why? Wouldn’t that be a bit melodramatic? The guru’s probably fake. What are you thinking?’
‘Did you at least get Lola’s number?’
‘No. The caller ID indicated an unknown number. She had a faint accent and an aggressive manner, kept me talking even when I wanted to get off the phone.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?’
Veen’s voice cracked. ‘Shit – it slipped my mind.’
I don’t believe it. However, Maya tried to answer the question herself. Veen had no idea of Maya’s involvement in the case, the fact that this scoop could be important in her investigation. Or it could be that Veen was lying.
‘Hey, what do you have for us to eat?’ Veen asked jovially.
‘Plenty. Mom insisted on feeding us well.’ Maya unloaded the contents of her basket: a stack of fresh chapatis, spicy roasted eggplant, green beans coated with a sweet brownish sauce and a tall carton of coconut water. While doing so, she brooded about her mother. Several days had passed since Uma had been struck by that thrown rock. Not a clue existed as to who had done it. The injury turned out to be minor but Uma’s blood pressure went way up, which had got Maya concerned. Using a digital blood pressure monitor, as suggested by Dr Moore, she kept track of Uma’s blood pressure on a regular basis. Whereas Uma had managed to erase that horrible incident from her mind and prepared this elaborate outdoor meal for them, Maya still stewed over that assault.
As Veen served herself, Maya looked all around to see if any mysterious, heavyset women lurked nearby. She saw no one. That in itself concerned her, squeezed the oxygen out of the air. Her instinct suggested someone was hiding somewhere and watching them.
They finished their meal. ‘How about a walk in the Japanese garden?’ Maya asked, ready to talk with Veen about a topic of her own. She wanted to put aside those damaging thoughts about her best friend and get away from any surveillance.
‘Yes, sure.’ Veen winked. ‘I need some Zen.’
The sunset had turned the sky a delicate mauve, the evening still young and frivolous around them. With Maya leading, they strolled down a narrow walkway and crossed over to the miniature garden, a green vista opening before them. She recalled how many times, especially during the last three or so months of their relationship, she and Justin had shared the twenty-minute stroll through these pathways. As a police detective, he needed to destress; he’d quite possibly been punched, knocked down or pepper-sprayed during his hours of duty. And so they’d take off after dinner, drive up here and walk hand-in-hand. Feet floating over a carpet of pebbles, chest filled with fresh air, Maya would point out a patch of velvety moss, a pale pink bud that peeked from underneath the leaves or a tree sculpted so expertly as to resemble an installed art piece. Clouds, if there were any, wore a silver mantle.
‘You know,’ Maya now said to Veen, a flutter in her throat, ‘it’s an odd coincidence but I met Justin’s companion and infant son quite by chance.’
‘What?’ Her eyes round, Veen gripped Maya’s elbow, giving it a shake. ‘His companion? You mean the chick he was with the other day? And his child? You never told me he had a child. In the name of Ma Kali, spit it!’
Maya hesitated, feeling wounded and ashamed, as if she herself had not been woman enough to keep Justin’s love. But Veen, wide-eyed, was waiting.
‘Oh, I happened to go to the flea market, where I noticed Justin’s new girlfriend.’ Maya took a deep breath and gave Veen the account of having ‘accidentally’ met two of the most important people in Justin’s life. Her cheeks burned again as she admitted that she’d posed as a stranger in order to chat with Jennifer, and how she’d been charmed by the plump-cheeked Justin Jr. She left the mosquito part out.
‘So,’ Veen said when Maya had finished, ‘our detective prince has either started a legitimate family in secret or has an adorable illegitimate child.’ Veen let go of Maya’s arm and looked out over the pond. ‘Goodness me,’ she finally said, gazing back at Maya. ‘There’s got to be more to this story.’
They stood on the bridge and watched the koi fish flap their tails, their amber, orange and blue bodies churning the water as bubbles rose to the surface. ‘I’m afraid that Justin is being duped by that woman.’ Although she tried to keep her voice casual, Maya could tell it was laced with caution. ‘I’d like to find out a bit more about her.’
Veen turned to her quickly, her eyes knowing. ‘More than that, isn’t it? I mean, why else would you pretend you didn’t recognize her? Why would you approach her at all if you weren’t curious? Come on, Maya, be honest. You want full disclosure – why Justin dropped you, why he took up with that woman, why he’s keeping his son a secret, why they don’t seem to be living together, the whole mess. I’d be dying of curiosity. I’d get a headache. Then I’d have to go to the store and get three scoops of gelato.’
‘Look,’ Maya said, ‘how could I possibly find any of that out? It isn’t like I can start stalking Jennifer and then ask her all about it. She thinks I’m just some woman who bumped into her at a fair, who thought her baby was cute. She couldn’t be dumb enough to answer questions from a stranger about Justin’s private life.’ She paused. ‘I’ve been pondering this and an idea has cropped up. Hope you don’t think it’s ridiculous or laughable. I’m thinking of retaining your friend, Annette. I think I can trust her. And my guess is she’d be up for the job.’
‘That she would be. She’s a Martha Stewart-type of organized woman. Although retired from SPD, she has a long roster of useful contacts. Her friends surely have all sorts of databases at their fingertips. But … you surprise me … to hire someone to spy on a former lover – that’s not
at all like you.’
Maya nodded, head down. It’s not him, it’s his new girlfriend, who somehow raises suspicion. She couldn’t tell Veen of the case Atticus had assigned her. Confidentiality issues. Yes, even with your best friend.
She began walking again with a constricted throat. Veen followed her.
‘Everyone does background checks on their partners, especially if they sense something isn’t quite right,’ Maya said after a while, keeping her tone companionable, encouraging. She reminded Veen that, in the cyber era, you don’t really have to stalk a person the way chain-smoking private eyes did in old detective novels. Now you let the computer do the trailing for you, discreetly, in the privacy of your own home, with your cat purring next to you. ‘Tell Annette I’ll pay her full fee in advance.’
‘OK, then,’ Veen replied enthusiastically. ‘I helped Annette move three hundred pounds of books when she rented a dig in Issaquah last winter, so she owes me. All I have to do is ask her and she’ll shovel into the dirt.’
It was easy for Veen to get excited about invading Justin’s privacy – she hadn’t loved him. Maya had done that and, on second thought, it was difficult to consider entering his life again as a snoop. She berated herself for stooping so low. ‘One concern. What if Justin finds out?’
‘Aw. If I were you, I’d be done with being too nice, too much of a doormat. He probably will find out. But who gives a fuck about what he thinks?’
Looking down at the stony path as they strolled along it, Maya felt annoyance. Veen wouldn’t care how Justin felt about anything.
‘Have you wondered what else Justin has hidden from you?’ Veen said, her voice firm. ‘There’s a lurid tale here, what you ought to know, what my mother calls, “every frickin’ detail.”’
Maya motioned toward a bench; the dirty game had suddenly become real to her.
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