Season of Sacrifice

by Bharti Kirchner

  ‘Hard for me to admit this, Ma, but only a short time ago I realized I must have been hypnotized by Viktor. I was very definitely under his influence.’

  ‘How did he do that?’

  ‘He’s a pro but he doesn’t require that you relax, close your eyes and concentrate on what he’s saying. No lecture. No Zombie eyelids. No loss of consciousness. Instead, he flattered me and looked deeply into my eyes. His voice was so deep and rich; I couldn’t get enough of it. His speech had a certain rhythm that lulled me. Then, when the time was right, he described his home and family in a gentle, loving way. I couldn’t help but think of him as a nice man who doted on his family. I relaxed and listened, enchanted. A pleasant sensation spread through my body. By the time the phone rang, I’d snapped out of it. It was you calling to warn me, just in time. I think you may have saved my life.’

  ‘You did speak and act funny when you came in, my dear,’ Uma said. ‘Cal also noticed that. He said so on his way out. “She’s acting like Anna. Like she’d do anything he says. Do keep an eye on her tonight.”’

  Acting like Anna? Recalling the last glass of wine poured by Viktor earlier in the evening, Maya said, ‘You know, Viktor might also have slipped something into my drink when I went to the ladies’ room. It didn’t smell or taste any different. If there was a color change, I didn’t notice it. But my muscles seemed to let go, which was a warning bell, and so, after one small sip, I put the glass aside.’

  ‘Why did you go to his place then?’

  ‘To play along. I was well aware of his intentions. Being alert, I got the lay of the land.’

  Uma smiled. ‘Good, I don’t have to deprogram you.’

  ‘Let me tell you what else I’ve figured out about Viktor. On this, my second meeting with him, I had the strangest, scariest feeling I’d seen him before. Then it dawned on me. He’s Sunglasses Man who pushed Sylvie and Anna to suicide. On that day, he wore a disguise.’

  ‘What? If he’s Sunglasses Man and if he assisted Sylvie and Anna to die, then he’s evil and could face charges.’

  ‘You know what, Ma? I’m having a wild, what-if moment. What if Viktor, the scientist from the BC family, with an agenda of his own, hypnotized and drugged Anna and instructed her to burn herself? He could have easily done that, since they’d spent so much time together.’

  ‘What would be his motive?’

  ‘Let’s deconstruct that,’ Maya said. ‘The BC family has no particular interest in Tibet’s freedom, I don’t think. Sylvie and Anna have advanced the cause for Tibet by sacrificing their lives, but for Viktor, the scientist, there has to be a pay-off for leading an innocent woman like Anna to kill herself. And I believe it’s the malaria cure he was after. That was his motivation.’ Maya gave Uma an account of their conversation, how he yearned to find an experimental vaccine to take to Moscow and then to Bangladesh to conduct a trial of longer duration with more participants. ‘I’m still not sure what purpose Anna served in Viktor’s game, why she had to die and why Jennifer stole Anna’s blood sample. I need to figure it all out.’

  The corners of Uma’s eyes crinkled. ‘If you’re thinking of seeing Viktor again, I will not let you go. That’d be insane. He’s ruthless and you’re on his murder list – the woman who figured out too much.’

  Maya had to go all out this time. ‘Please, Ma, he’s a killer but I’ll have to see him one more time, to make him talk. I’ll wear a bodycam – a copcam, which I’ll have to get from the SPD. I promise I won’t get myself killed. And, next time, I’ll make him tell his whole story and record it for the police.’

  ‘How will you do that?’

  ‘He likes to brag, especially when he’s had a few drinks. He might even give the game away now because he thinks I’ve fallen for him.’ Maya paused and thought of Uma’s malaria physician in Kolkata, recommended by no other than Sylvie. Perhaps he could help decode a few issues related to her malaria research. ‘One more thing, Ma. I need to speak with your doc.’

  ‘That’s easy. I can arrange a call to Doctor Palas. But it’ll have to be tomorrow, my child. Now, I insist you get some sleep.’

  Maya rose and smiled. Her kind-hearted mother, always thinking of her daughter’s needs. It had been so great to have her around this last month or so.

  TWENTY-NINE

  The soles of Maya’s favorite walking shoes had worn out and needed to be fixed. The next morning, the first item on her agenda was a trip to the cobbler for a tune-up. At around nine a.m., carrying the shoes in a plastic bag, Maya walked into Sole Survivor, a shoe-repair shop located about half a mile from her house in a busy foot-traffic area.

  A ruddy-skinned, sixty-something man, who was working with industrial equipment in the back of the room, hastened to the counter. He had the appearance of being overworked and exhausted. ‘May I help you?’

  It came to Maya with a jolt. She’d seen him at Sylvie’s self-immolation. Eyes closed, his boxer’s nose catching a ray of sunlight, this man had chanted as a part of the prayer group. She’d been trying to trace him or, as a matter of fact, anyone from that group. Now, finally.

  ‘Do you have a moment to talk?’ Her voice wavered in anticipation. ‘Didn’t I see you at that suicide scene a few weeks ago? Weren’t you one of the chanters?’

  He stood still, his eyes widening in horror. Without warning, he burst into tears, mumbling, ‘So sorry, so very sorry.’

  Maya reached into her purse and handed him a tissue, feeling a deep sorrow within herself, and stayed open to listen to him.

  He took a few moments, wiped his eyes and shuffled his feet. ‘If only I had the sense to read what was going on. I’d have punched that guy and dragged the two women out of there. I could have saved them, you know, I could have, but I was crazed.’

  Maya clutched her bag to her chest. ‘That is one of the biggest regrets of my life as well. I just happened to be walking by. I, too, had no idea what was going on. I didn’t realize Sylvie, a friend … I saw her but didn’t see her – know what I mean? What took you there?’

  ‘I answered a casting call for extras on a website.’

  ‘A casting call? You really thought they were—?’

  ‘Yeah, the website said they were filming a violent cable movie. They paid well, even for background roles. No prior experience required, no physical danger, but confidentiality was asked for.’

  ‘How did you learn to chant?’

  ‘I’m a musician in my spare time. We were given a link to a recording which showed us how to make the sounds. And we were told to clear out as soon as the police showed up. That’d indicate the end of the scene. The whole thing would take only a few minutes. I said to myself, why not?’

  ‘Can you give me the link?’

  ‘I’m afraid I lost it. My brain’s shrinking. They tell me I should eat more greens but I positively hate kale.’

  ‘Any idea of the motives of those who hired you?’

  ‘Who looks for motives when you’re trying to make a fast buck? Not a boozer like me. Here I make the minimum wage. It did smell a little weird but I was paid in advance and I like to keep my nose clean. Only later that morning did I find out it was real fire and real people perished from it. Oh, bugger. How could I not have been man enough to stop it?’

  ‘There were no cameras anywhere and you still didn’t suspect anything?’

  ‘Again, I didn’t pay attention. Getting old, I suppose. And I’d drunk a little too much the night before. A guy has to have a vice.’ Voice turning jovial, he winked at her. ‘A few minutes into it, you tried to peel off my jacket, you feisty lady, and I wouldn’t let you. I figured a little tussle with a lovely woman would make me look good in the film, even if it wasn’t a part of the script. That’s how blind I was.’

  ‘You didn’t go to the police station?’

  ‘I suppose I should have.’

  ‘Will you do it now?’

  ‘Why don’t you tell the police to pay me a call? I’ll talk to them, clear my conscience, sleep better
.’ He handed her the store’s business card. ‘My name is Clark S. Sutter.’

  ‘Maya Mallick.’

  ‘Now I have to get back to work. Do you have shoes that need resoling?’

  Maya handed him the shoes and they discussed the date of delivery. She’d just turned when she heard his voice from behind.

  ‘Don’t go looking for trouble, Maya,’ Clark said, sounding as though he meant it. Maya cringed involuntarily.

  Once outside, she called Hank on her cellphone, a routine check.

  ‘Ivan’s bolting,’ Hank said in an urgent manner. ‘He’s stopped coming to the gym – end of my swimming lessons, end of my keeping track of all the hot women he was bedding.’

  Veen’s face flickered in Maya mind – Veen, who never danced around things. ‘Let’s touch base later in the day,’ she said to Hank.

  At a few minutes to nine, Maya sat on a bench in Meridian Park, a stone’s throw from the skeletal survivors of an old apple orchard. Wild flowers were sprinkled across the grass at her feet. A sliver of weak sunlight shone over the large playfield in front of her like a distant dream. Despite the morning’s hospitable temperature and the scenery, she remained wary. The sound of traffic behind her on the vehicle-choked Northeast 50th Street hummed in her chest.

  Veen, dressed for work in a camel-colored cardigan and a matching A-line skirt, was perched beside her. Except for a thin gold chain at her throat, accentuating the roundness of her face, Veen looked severe and in control. Yet she sounded chirpy as she asked, ‘Hey, what have you been up to?’

  ‘Oh, I’m seeing someone.’ Maya pictured the mirage that was Viktor: attentive, smooth-talking, drug-dispensing hypnotist and literal lady-killer. ‘Had a date last night.’

  ‘No wonder I haven’t heard from you lately.’ Veen’s voice soared. ‘So what time did you get home?’

  ‘Must have been close to midnight.’

  ‘He must be hot stuff. You have dark circles under your eyes. How did you meet him?’

  Maya flinched. ‘Actually, I met him through Ivan.’

  Veen sat, her eyes lowered and chillness embalming her face, surely unaware that Maya had suspicions of Ivan being implicated in Sylvie’s death. ‘What was he like?’ Veen asked.

  Maya reviewed the details of her evening with Viktor – mainly the glossy part: the wine, the spicy fragrances and the soft light. She spared Veen the details about his questionable background. Maybe another time.

  ‘How romantic.’ Veen gave her bangs a flip with a not-so-slender wrist. ‘Is he someone our mothers would call a “suitable boy”?’

  ‘Your guess is as good as mine.’

  Veen laughed uncomfortably. ‘Hey, you said Ivan introduced you to Viktor? How did you meet Ivan?’

  ‘Long story. Let’s talk about that another time.’ Maya took a deep breath. ‘Oh, since we’re on the topic of dating, can I ask you a sensitive question? How well do you know Ivan?’

  Veen’s eyes grew cold. ‘What the hell do you mean? What’s that got to do with the price of coffee in …?’

  ‘Quite a lot, actually. It’s been bugging me ever since the day Sylvie died.’ Maya allowed a sigh to escape her. ‘Somehow I got the impression, gathering bits and pieces here and there and putting them together, including hints I got from Ivan, and I’m still not completely sure, but I’ve seen signs that suggest …’

  Veen’s cheeks turned a shade of mauve. ‘What are you hinting at? That I was intimate with Ivan? That’s absurd, a lie. Just because I helped you dig up some dirt about Justin doesn’t mean you have to retaliate.’

  Aware of Veen’s volatility and seeing her face turn red in anger, Maya considered dropping the topic, saying, forget it and apologizing. But Veen was staring at her with tight-faced vengeance. However shaken inside, Maya opted to continue.

  ‘Please calm down, Veen. I’m not trying to retaliate. I put our friendship way above that. This issue stands on its own. It’s part of the puzzle as to why Sylvie died and so, in my opinion, important. I’ve wanted to ask you this for weeks now but I never could. I didn’t want to hurt you, make you uncomfortable or ruin our friendship, and—’

  ‘Cut out the crap, Maya. Cut out this amateur detective stuff.’

  ‘Amateur, I’m not. You don’t know this but I’m now employed as a P.I. I’ll talk about my new profession another time. We have an important matter on our hands. I’ve gathered quite a bit of vital information about what went on with Sylvie before she made up her mind to—’

  ‘What fucking business is that of yours, for heaven’s sake?’ Veen yelled. ‘She’s my sister.’

  A tallish dog-walker wearing shorts shuffled past them. In the quiet surroundings, Veen’s voice must have sounded like a siren. The woman turned and gave both of them a piercing look.

  Maya collected herself. ‘Look, Sylvie gave her last breath for the masses. We owe it to her. And, as someone who saw her end her life, I—’

  ‘You asked once why Sylvie threw her bracelet to the ground. Do you still wonder why? It was because she loved her family.’

  Maya hated to be so direct, so point-blank, but she figured that, with Veen, that was the best way. ‘My guess is she sent a message through her bracelet to one member of her family – her mother.’

  Veen’s face twisted, perhaps from the knowledge that she was about to be found out. She stayed silent.

  Her voice choking, Maya got the words out, but only partially. ‘It’s hard for me to ask this, Veen, but I wonder if you ever were in an affair with …’

  Fury rippled across Veen’s features like lightning. ‘Are you accusing me of driving Sylvie to suicide? What a schlock job of “investigating.” You make me want to laugh and, at the same time, you disappoint me, both you and your mother, all sweet talk and samosas—’

  ‘Why bring my mother into this?’

  ‘I’m not going to listen to your fucking bullshit.’ Veen consulted her watch and jumped to her feet. ‘I have to get to a meeting.’

  ‘No, sit down. Call your office and say you’ll be late. Sylvie is far more important than your meeting.’

  Veen flopped back down on the bench again. ‘What business is it of anybody’s that Ivan and I were together for a while?’ Her voice took a shrill edge. ‘I hate myself, I so hate myself, but he’s the best fuck around.’

  ‘You hated yourself but you didn’t break it off soon enough.’

  Veen fired her a hateful glare. ‘Was that even up to me? No – he fucking ditched me. “Go on, get lost,” he said because he was seeing both Sylvie and me and couldn’t handle it. And I’m the one who had to go. I was so mad.’

  The drumbeat of Maya’s heart drowned out all ambient noise. The picture wasn’t complete, although a few more puzzle pieces were in place. ‘But you—’

  In one sharp movement, Veen shouldered her purse and scrambled to her feet. ‘Are you trying to say I was complicit in my sister’s death, you fucking whore? Yes, I screwed Ivan. Yes, I knew he and Sylvie were an item. She didn’t jump off the bridge on the day she found out. My sis … I tried to speak with her on the phone but she cut me off. She wouldn’t see me, either. Ivan and I were through by then.’

  ‘But he’s visited you recently, hasn’t he? Asked you to tell me about a phone call from a woman called Lola. It’s a made-up story, designed to put blame on the guru. Am I correct?’

  ‘Don’t even think of blaming me for what happened to Sylvie, Little Ms Detective. I could make trouble for you.’ Veen stood up. ‘And don’t call me ever again.’

  ‘Veen, please—’

  ‘Go fuck yourself.’ Veen stormed away, her hair flying in the wind, one hand drawn up to her face, presumably to wipe away a tear.

  Maya sat stiffly on the bench. A deep sense of remorse rising in her, she questioned herself. Had she treated Veen too harshly? Knowing it would devastate her yet still pressing? Veen had been against Maya’s investigation from the beginning, what she’d considered a personal family matter. Had Maya’s efforts prev
ented Veen from expressing her grief the way she wanted to? Maya would forever regret that.

  THIRTY

  Maya had difficulty sleeping that night. The next morning, she retrieved a message from Viktor on her phone: ‘Darling, please call me as soon as you can.’ There were two more messages from him with similar content.

  She’d wait a little while to call him back. She stepped through the door of the living room, only to find Uma, serene-faced, dusting the bookcase. She must not have heard Maya’s footsteps. Uma retracted an oversized tome on home decorating from its standing position, held it like a treasure box, wiped it with a rag, then slid it back.

  ‘Leave the drudgery for me, Ma.’ Maya could tell her voice was a trifle off.

  Uma threw the dust rag in a corner, pointed to the sofa and smiled. ‘What a scoop I have for you. My friend Urvasi has an update about the BC family. You know how some of our boys go abroad, date every girl in sight, then go back home so mommy and daddy can find them a virgin bride?’

  Maya nodded, fully aware of where this was going and yet eager to listen.

  ‘Well, our Viktor-Babu is no angel.’ Uma added the affectionate suffix with thinly veiled sarcasm. ‘He’s engaged to a stunning doctor who practices pediatrics in Dhaka, a match made by his mother about a year ago. The wedding will take place in a few months. It’ll be the wedding of the century. At least a thousand people will be invited, a who’s who of that city. Urvasi laughed and said that the BC family calls the doctor a virgin, “a pure girl who’s never looked at a man.” Everyone else smiles.’

  ‘So he was playing Anna but had this marriage in mind all along.’ Maya, suddenly sickened by the episode of Anna’s death, shuffled over to the window and parted the curtains. A blue sedan cruised by. When she turned, she saw Uma standing by her.

  Uma patted her shoulder, her hand veined but elegant, her touch a mantle of comfort. ‘I touched base with Doctor Palas in Kolkata. He didn’t mind being awakened by my call. Expect a call from him any minute. He’d like to speak with you. Cal will also be here a little later.’