“Except for an additional shipment?”
“Except for the shipment,” confirmed Tillerman. “Is this helpful to you?”
“Very much so. I’ll check back with you on Friday. Again, if anything changes, let me know with a simple yes or no. If yes, we will meet again. You’ve done a good job, Edwin. Staying out of trouble?”
“Yes, sir, I am. I’ve been trying very hard to change my ways.”
“Good, keep working at it. This will all be over soon.”
Wednesday evening Emma and LaCroix returned to the shop near the café. They had been there earlier in the day and met with the shopkeeper. Damini’s sister had agreed to talk with them, but it would have to be after working hours, as she would not be home until then. Mr. Kabiraj had offered to accompany Emma and LaCroix and introduce them to Damini’s sister. As they walked into the shop to pick up Kabiraj, although Emma knew she didn’t have to mention it, she reminded LaCroix to make sure they weren’t followed.
“Mr. Kabiraj, we’re back,” said Emma as she walked into the store.
“Very good. Let me lock up and we can be on our way.”
The three climbed into the American’s car. LaCroix drove, and even though he already knew the way, he let Kabiraj direct him. About halfway to their destination, Kabiraj asked if they would mind if his wife came along. He told Emma he felt it would be more proper that way. Emma agreed, as it would put everyone more at ease.
As Kabiraj went into his apartment, Emma and LaCroix waited in the car. Taking no chances on an ambush of any kind, Emma had her purse open, her hand firmly gripping her revolver. LaCroix kept a lookout on the street and in the rearview mirror. A few minutes later Kabiraj appeared with a woman whom he introduced as his wife.
Damini’s sister and daughter lived in an apartment not far from the south end of the docks where ships unloaded supplies for the war effort. Even at that time of day, traffic on the streets was heavy with trucks, cars, and workers on bicycles.
As the door to the apartment opened, Damini’s sister introduced herself as Padma Goswami. Beside her stood Damini’s daughter, Lalana. The first thing Emma noticed walking into the apartment, after how pretty the young girl was, was the aroma of food cooking. The smell of curry, turmeric, and cinnamon instantly made her hungry.
“Have we come at a bad time?” Emma asked? “Whatever you are making smells wonderful.”
“Not at all. I thought we could all eat together,” said Padma. “Mr. Kabiraj has told me about what you want to write for your paper. I thought this would be a good way for us to get to know each other and we could take some time so you would know more about my sister and my niece.”
Emma made sure her purse was fastened securely and set it down on a chair in the living room. She then rolled up the sleeves of her blouse. “We accept your invitation, but I want to help you. In the past I’ve done a lot of cooking, and I want to learn how you’re preparing our meal.”
“Everything is about ready, but if you would like, you can help me with the rice pudding I am making for dessert. It is Lalana’s favorite. While we make it, I will tell you how I made the other dishes.”
“That would be wonderful,” said Emma.
After dinner, when she was sure Lalana couldn’t hear, Padma told Emma, “I feel really awful. You see, for months Damini had been talking to me about opening another café. She had savings and was going to put up the money and I was going to run it. We thought a location by the docks would be good. As you probably saw, it is busy even at this hour. That day I was meeting with a man about a space we had both looked at and was going to sign a lease. So, after school, I put Lalana in a taxi and sent her to be with her mother. Lalana was almost killed too.”
“But you had no way of knowing anything would happen,” Emma soothed her. “Have the police told you what caused the explosion?”
“Not yet. They just told us they were investigating, and if they had any more questions, they would contact me again. They did tell us it was intentional, but I do not know why. My sister was well liked, like Mr. Kabiraj and his wife, by everyone on that street. All the other shopkeepers, and even her competition, liked her and wanted to see her succeed. I do not understand any of this!”
Emma could see Padma was on the verge of breaking down and put her arms around her. “Here, go ahead and sit.”
“No, I need to clean the dishes. I find that if I can keep busy, I do not think about it as much. It is when I do not have anything to do that the sadness comes.”
Emma desperately wanted to talk to Lalana. She also knew she would have to be as delicate about it as she could. The wrong thing said and the evening would turn into a disaster. “If you don’t mind,” she began, “and with your permission, I’d like to talk to Lalana. I want to find out the usual things, what she likes in school, what she wants to do when she grows up. Those sorts of things.”
“Please, do so. Have her take you to her bedroom. She shared it with my sister. Have her show you her drawings. She is very talented.”
“That would be great,” replied Emma.
Padma called Lalana into the kitchen. “Lalana, can you show Miss Williams your drawings? I think she would enjoy seeing them.”
The little girl took Emma’s hand and led her to the bedroom.
“How old are you, Lalana?” asked Emma, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as the girl retrieved her drawings.
“I’m eight,” said Lalana. She handed Emma one of her drawings.
Emma was very surprised. She expected to see a drawing done by an eight year old, but instead she was handed a sketch of a woman that looked almost professionally done.
“Did you do this?” asked Emma.
“Everyone always asks me that. Yes, I did it.”
“Who taught you to draw like this?”
“No one. I just draw them,” said Lalana as she handed her another one. “This is my mother,” she said, starting to cry.
“It’s okay, sweetie, go ahead and let it all out. It’s okay,” said Emma, taking her in her arms.
Lalana held Emma tightly and sobbed uncontrollably. Emma kept telling her everything would be all right and stroked the girl’s long black hair as she wept, her face buried tightly against Emma’s chest.
After a few minutes the sobs subsided and Lalana said, “I am sorry. You have been nice to me and wanted to see my pictures. I did not mean to cry.”
“Hush now, don’t worry about that. You’ve been through an ordeal. In time, everything will be better. Right now, it’s difficult. I know that. I’ve lost people I loved, too. It all takes time.”
When Lalana had regained her composure, Emma told her, “Did your aunt tell you why I wanted to meet you?”
“She said I was supposed to be nice to you because you came all the way from America to write stories.”
Emma laughed. “You didn’t have to be nice to me, but I’m happy you have been. You’re a talented artist. Is that what you want to do when you grow up?”
“If I can.”
“Like you, what I do is a type of art. I want to paint a picture about you, your mother and aunt, only I do it with words. I couldn’t begin to draw like you do.”
“Will it be a nice picture?” asked Lalana.
“Of course it will, sweetie. Now, I have to ask you some more questions, and if you don’t want to answer them, that’s okay. Before I can paint my picture, I need to know what happened that afternoon at your mother’s café. Did you see anything funny or out of the ordinary?”
Lalana thought for a moment, “Only the woman who came in before my mother sent me to the bakery.”
“A woman? What kind of woman?”
“She looked English, but she was not.”
“How do you know, honey?” asked Emma.
“She spoke differently.”
“Like me?”
“No, different.”
Emma spoke a few words of Spanish and Lalana shook her head. Then Emma spoke to her in French.
“What did this woman do?” asked Emma.
“She delivered a large box and then left. Then my mother sent me down the street and around the corner.”
“What did the woman look like?”
“I do not remember much, just the way she talked was different. Her hair was different, too. Kind of a yellow with red in it.”
“I see. Did you tell the police about this?”
“No. They didn’t ask me the way you did. Should I?”
Emma didn’t want the girl to know she had probably seen the woman who was responsible for her mother’s death. “If they come back and you want to, but I don’t know if it’s important or not. It was probably just a delivery of some kind for your mother’s café.” Emma refocused the conversation. “Tell me about school. What is your teacher like?”
Emma and Lalana talked for another fifteen or twenty minutes and then walked into the main living area of the apartment. The others were seated at the table and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Emma joined the conversation for a few minutes then she thanked Padma for the dinner and said she and LaCroix should be going.
“If there is anything else you need, you know where we are. You are welcome anytime,” said Padma.
“Please come back, Miss Williams. I promise I will have more drawings for you to look at,” said Lalana.
Emma got down on her knees, gave the girl a tight hug, and whispered into her ear, “Remember what I told you, sweetie, everything will be okay. It just takes time. Your auntie loves you and there are a lot of people who care about you.”
“I know.”
Kabiraj and his wife had decided to stay longer, but he walked with Emma and LaCroix to their car. “Miss Williams, may I have a minute of your time?”
“Certainly,” replied Emma.
“I think it is a good thing you want to do for Padma and Lalana. They have been through a lot and this is all very unexpected. Lalana has taken a liking to you.”
“Thank you, I think so, too. But what’s on your mind?”
“This is a delicate situation. Yesterday I was approached by a woman who told me she worked for a religious charity, a Christian one. She said she wanted to help the family. None of us have any experience with this kind of thing, but are they going to try to convert Padma and Lalana?”
“I really don’t know. It depends on the organization. Things like this aren’t uncommon,” replied Emma.
“Then it is possible.”
“To be honest, yes, it’s possible.”
“Padma will soon have her business up and going. As you can tell, she is as good a cook as her sister was. I think the location is good and she should do well. Right now she is not really in need of charity.”
“Then, if there’s a doubt, tell Padma she shouldn’t meet with her. She’s going through enough, the loss of her sister and now the responsibility of Lalana. She doesn’t need to be preached to. That may not be the intent, but if she has doubts…” Emma paused briefly then asked, “What was the name of the charity?”
“I do not really know the full name, the woman just said she worked for a Catholic charity.”
“Do you remember her name? Maybe I would know her,” said Emma.
“She told me it was Suzette Dubois. Do you know her?”
“No, I never heard of her. Do you remember anything else about her?” asked Emma.
“She was foreign, but not English, and she had long black hair.”
LaCroix and Emma headed home, this time with Emma doing the driving.
“They were all nice people,” LaCroix said after several minutes of silence. “This is a mess. Did you hear what he said, a woman with long black hair?”
“I heard,” Emma replied. “As you know, I spent a lot of time with Lalana. She told me that not long before her mother sent her out to the bakery, a foreign woman delivered a box. When I spoke French to her, she identified the language.”
“So, what do we have? A French woman dropping off a box, then a few minutes later a bomb explodes killing everyone in the café. Now, Kabiraj tells us there’s another woman looking for Lalana who just happens to be foreign and gives him a French name.”
“He also said she had black hair.”
“It sure doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me. The two of them have to be working together. It has to be du Maurier and Chevalier. We’ve been watching the wrong people. Their wives are mixed up in this, too. Now they want to find Lalana and probably her aunt, as well. You know what they’ll do if they find them.”
“I do, Henri, and we’re not going to let that happen. Let’s get back to the house and get Jimmy and Vern up to speed on what we’ve learned.”
As Emma turned and drove by the docks, the area suddenly went dark. “Lightning must have hit a transformer. Is that thunder?” asked Emma.
LaCroix up looked through the windshield at the sky. “There isn’t a cloud in the sky, Emma. Even with the humidity, I can see stars.” Just then LaCroix saw an explosion across the river. “It’s an air raid, Emma! The Japanese must be bombing the docks!”
“We’ve got to get out of here!” exclaimed Emma. She made a quick right hand turn at the first street she saw. “I hope this isn’t a dead end!”
Emma and LaCroix looked at the buildings lining the streets.
“There’s nowhere to take shelter. If one of these buildings gets hit, it’s coming down on top of us,” said LaCroix.
Emma stomped hard on the accelerator, pushing it to the floor in an effort to put some distance between themselves and the docks. Looking in the rearview mirror, she saw a flash of light and instantly heard a very loud explosion. A bomb had fallen at the intersection where they had just turned. A second later the concussion rocked the car. Emma swerved into the center of the street and the car started to go into a skid. Taking her foot off the accelerator, she steered into the skid and straightened the car out.
“Keep going, Emma. Our chances are probably better moving than if we stop. Besides, there’s no place to hide!”
A couple of blocks in front of them another bomb went off. Bricks flew into the street, and in the car’s headlights they could see a building coming down. Emma downshifted and made a hard left turn. The car fishtailed through the intersection. Emma pointed the front wheels in the direction of the street. As soon as the car recovered, she stomped her foot to the floor. The engine came to life and the car began to pick up speed. When she could hear the engine straining, she depressed the clutch and shifted the car into a higher gear.
“This street isn’t going to help us. We’re running parallel to the docks. Hold on, Henri, at the next major street, I’m going to make another right.”
As Emma downshifted and started braking before the intersection, a few blocks ahead of them another bomb fell. The concussion momentarily picked up the front end of the car. When the tires made contact with the street again, Emma was ready. She kept the wheels straight and gradually applied the brake until the car slowed. “Turning, Henri!” she warned as she turned the wheel as hard as she could to the right. The back end of the car slid through the intersection as though she had hit a patch of ice. LaCroix could hear the screeching sound of the tires being strained almost to their limits and one of the hubcaps popped loose from the car and crashed into the side of a building. As the car came through the turn, Emma stomped on the accelerator. “Come on, you’ve got to give me more than that!” she yelled at the car. The engine was again at its limits when she punched the clutch to the floor and slammed the car into high gear.
More bombs continued to drop from the sky as they continued to head east.
“If one drops in front of us, we’re going to have to stop. The streets on both sides of us have taken hits!” exclaimed LaCroix. “I’m surprised the tires have lasted this long. I don’t think they can go through many more turns like that last one.”
After passing a car and swerving to miss a man i
n the street, Emma glanced down at the speedometer. They were approaching sixty. Ahead of her people had left the buildings and were now on the street. “Hold on, Henri, I’m going to have to brake hard!”
LaCroix braced his hands on the dash as Emma stepped on the brakes as hard as she could and downshifted into a lower gear. The engine roared as she again quickly downshifted into first. The momentum lifted the back end of the car and made the front end dip downward. As the car settled, it was rocked by another explosion. They both heard the back window break as bricks pelted the glass.
“That one was too damn close!” exclaimed LaCroix.
“I’m trying to get us out of here!”
The car was still drivable and Emma kept the horn blaring as they inched forward. After creeping along for five or six blocks, the crowds started to dissipate. The raid seemed to be over and the devastation was behind them. Emma slowly brought the car up to speed and left it all behind.
After she was several miles away, she slowed the car and started laughing uncontrollably. It wasn’t long before LaCroix shook his head and joined her. “What’s funny?” he finally asked.
“Nothing Henri, but we’re alive! Laughing is better than crying, and I’ve had enough of that for one day.”
“I agree. By the way, where did you learn to drive like that?”
“In L.A.”
LaCroix was laughing harder. “Is that how everyone drives there?”
“Just in the city limits, Henri. Just in the city limits. What, you don’t drive like that in Vermilion Parish?”
“Not usually, Emma.”
“Which was worse, Henri, this or the trip across the Atlantic?”
“They were both a rollercoaster. I’m going to have to think about it.” LaCroix reached into his coat pocket and retrieved his cigarette case. He lit one for Emma and passed it over to her then lit one for himself.
Miller was in the kitchen when Emma and LaCroix came into the house. He immediately noticed their faces drawn with tension. “Was the interview with the girl that stressful,” he asked.
Operation Blue Sapphire Page 19