Sea of Innocence

by Desai, Kishwar

  I felt a huge sense of relief that Durga and her friends had left Goa when they did.

  ‘Why did you accuse Vishnu of molesting Liza?’ I asked her, looking for the other missing parts of the jigsaw.

  A puzzled look crossed her face.

  ‘I never registered any complaint. I know someone put my name on the form, but at the time I didn’t even know who he was. He’s been to jail twice because of her. The first time he went Liza felt terrible about it because he had actually saved her from rape. She insisted on thanking him, but it was too late. I think you might have met one of the persons already who assaulted Liza.’

  I hoped she wasn’t acting once again.

  ‘Do you mean Curtis D’Silva?’

  She gave a tiny nod, and quickly added. ‘But please don’t say anything to anyone. And I have to apologize for that day, when you were given those drugs, I really had no idea what they would do to you. I can only say I had nothing to do with it.’

  Grudgingly I nodded and then said, ‘Is there any evidence at all on Curtis?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘And do you think he raped her? With some other men?’

  For a minute I thought she might say something further, but instead she said quickly ‘It’s such a long time back, and it will be difficult to prove anyway. Look, I must thank you for everything, and I’m really sorry we couldn’t take this to a logical conclusion. But let’s meet in a day or so, if you’re still here.’

  As she got up to leave, I thought I’d better warn her about the men hanging around at the door. ‘Did you come here alone?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I passed her my compact mirror, which I used solely for situations like this.

  ‘Just pretend to settle your makeup and aim it towards the door behind you. Do you know those two men? They keep turning up.’

  Marian glanced in the mirror, and frowned as she quickly shut the compact.

  After a pause she said, ‘They’ve been stalking me for a few days. Ever since I met you that day in the shack. That’s the main reason I’ve been rushing away from our meetings and not turning up and so on. I don’t like the way they look at me. Something worrying about it. If it wasn’t for Liza I think I would have left this beach long ago. Who wants to lead a life like this? This is really becoming crazy.’

  She stopped abruptly. I noticed she had said she had stayed on for Liza. So there was probably something more that she couldn’t tell me. And that probably involved Curtis D’Silva, Vishnu, and the cover-up. And these two men as well. A larger story, which she still hadn’t shared. Nor did she seem likely to do so.

  So I decided not to persist any more; I didn’t want to completely alienate her. She had given me a few hints that might make it easier for me to find things out. Besides, I thought she should leave soon as those two men outside looked decidedly untrustworthy.

  The French windows next to us, when opened, led directly to the beach. Putting down enough cash to pay the bill, I quickly picked up my handbag and asked her to follow me out from behind the tall plants in the restaurant, which effectively hid us from view. No one would see us from the door of the restaurant if we moved fast enough.

  Once Marian had run down to the beach and was safely on her way home, I strolled past the two men who were still lounging at the entrance to the cafeteria, no doubt waiting for us to emerge.

  As I went by, they actually had some expression on their faces, for a change.

  They looked completely baffled, seeing me appear from a different direction.

  After many days, I felt like laughing.

  Chapter 10

  No matter what I had said to reassure Marian and Amarjit, I had no intention of giving up on my search for Liza. I thought it was both ridiculous and frightening that a young girl could vanish and a year later we still had no idea where she could be, or what had happened to her.

  And so, for many reasons, despite the fact that I’d had a really difficult day, I had decided to go to the ‘floating’ casino.

  Not that I am a gambler. It’s one of the few addictions that I’ve avoided – I even stay away from lotteries. Perhaps because I hate losing!

  In fact, I avoided card games of all kinds if I could help it, because of a well-known family fixation. My grandfather had been so besotted with playing bridge that he often did not come home for days on end, staying on at the club with his cronies, playing rubber after rubber. That convinced me that I should never go near a pack of cards.

  Luckily other pursuits – drinking, smoking and flirtatious relationships – have added quality to my life. I would hate to exchange them for nights in cold card rooms or overheated casinos.

  So, some of my present excitement had to do with the fact that I was going to the casino with Dennis. It had been a while since I had seriously thought about interesting men, or men that I wanted to take an interest in. Till a few months ago my attention had been taken up by Edward, a wonderful British man I had met in London last year. We had shared ‘memorable moments’ (as mentioned in the last postcard I had sent him), first in London, and later in Delhi. But I knew I would never shift to London and he could not abandon his lucrative career and come here.

  And frankly, both of us were just a little bit relieved that these hurdles existed. If there had been none, possibly we would have invented them. We had both been on our own for far too long now to fall into any kind of permanent arrangement.

  Thus on our last evening together, over a candlelight dinner in a suburban Delhi restaurant, we had mutually concluded that long-distance relationships simply did not work.

  My mother was disappointed because she had (with difficulty) adjusted herself to the idea of a British son-in-law, and Edward was very helpful in so many ways. He loved staying at home, cooking, lending a hand with the household chores and chatting with her about all her ailments.

  But once Edward left, she had begun pushing the idea of the newly divorced Amarjit in my direction, though I knew we probably had too much baggage between us. Too much love and too many fights. It was a volatile relationship and strangely it only worked when we had a third person in it to provide a certain piquancy.

  I sometimes wondered if I sought out flawed relationships because I hated to commit 100 per cent. So I looked for men who would not demand it. It is always so much nicer to search for love than actually find it. Because then you’ll discover that love is fleeting, anyway.

  Right now Dennis seemed an interesting option. We were only on our third meeting and could choose to engage or disengage as we wanted. There was definitely an attraction, but I didn’t know which way it would develop. We knew very little about each other, aside from the fact that we were both on our own, and, for my part, that he had an interesting life. He certainly wasn’t as good-looking as Edward, but I liked his sense of humour. In a world full of pompous, self-important men (which, at times, certainly included Amarjit), this was a huge relief.

  I knew I had a very serious investigation on my hands, but there was little harm in taking Dennis with me.

  Just for a little while I even pretended that I was going out for a normal date. When I got back to my room, I took some time to decide what I would wear, settling finally for a mid-length black dress. It was well-fitting but not too obtrusive or low-cut, as I didn’t want to attract attention on the ship. The only person whom I hoped would notice me was Dennis.

  After many days I decided to put on some mascara and lipstick as well, just to get into the mood for doing something other than getting sand between my toes.

  Finally clasping a string of pearls around my neck, I reminded myself of all the things I had to look out for tonight.

  Once we got onto the casino ship, I needed to know where Curtis D’Silva fitted into Liza’s story. And of course I should try to find out if Liza had any connection with the casino. It might be impossible to explore the ship, but I could certainly try to find out if she had ever been on board, or indeed, though it was unlikely, if she w
as still there somewhere.

  It was also important to look out for the mysterious owner of the casino who was supposed to be quite influential. Despite my best efforts I still had no idea about his identity, as he was deliberately kept nameless in the press, possibly because it would be difficult to prove any links between him and the casino. If he had a share, or owned the ship, it had to be through a third-party transaction, and his involvement would never surface. Perhaps Vicky would have an answer to some of these questions. I decided that, no matter how tough it was, I would definitely ask her more about Liza.

  Reaching the jetty at Panjim, where the casino speedboats departed, I almost didn’t recognize Dennis, even though I had thought about him all day. Because we had only met in our shabby beachwear, I overlooked the dashing curly-haired man in his dark trousers, crisp blue cotton shirt, and shiny black shoes, sitting and reading a magazine. It wasn’t till he looked up and walked towards me that I realized who it was. It was infinitely more invigorating to smell Pierre Cardin perfume than seawater and fish.

  ‘You’re looking lovely,’ he said, as chivalrous as ever, his eyes creased at the corners.

  ‘And so are you. Are you always this nice or are you making a special effort?’ I asked a little dreamily, basking in the compliments, as we joined the queue for the speedboats.

  The reflected lights on the dark water lent a romantic hue to the moment, and I couldn’t help a slight skip of my heartbeat, which was just as swiftly followed by regret. What was the point of a romantic evening when my mind would be engaged with the story of Liza?

  ‘No need to make any effort with you, Simran. You and I met under a holy banyan tree, and you know the real me! We’ve already been blessed by marijuana smoke. We’ve seen the light, and the rest is all maya, a mirage.’

  He pointed at his clothes and around. I could see why he would make a good scriptwriter. The self-deprecatory style was nice, too.

  Interesting, but not presumptuous.

  Laughing, and feeling a bit like characters from a James Bond movie, we got into the speedboat and headed for the Tempest, which was lit up with dazzling neon lights. A largescreen commercial ran in a loop on the ship’s side, depicting beautiful women endlessly dealing out counters and collecting money.

  The commercial turned out to be much more exciting than the reality.

  Uniformed attendants guided us into the ship, though they could have done with a little more sprucing up, and I was surprised at how unremarkable everything looked. I expected alluring music and ethereal beings throwing flowers at us, enticing us to the gaming tables, festooned with gold and purple.

  Instead, almost as soon as we arrived and got our tickets, we walked up a dull black staircase and found ourselves finally inside the heart of the crowded casino floor. Disappointingly, instead of wild excitement, there was a nondescript ambience, more like a downmarket version of an airline lounge. Later, I was to find out that the owner had once owned an airline, which he had shut down, transferring most of his staff to the casino. Perhaps that way he saved money on the uniforms – and the staff had already been trained to seat and feed people. And if they could make their customers believe it was a long-haul flight to the US, they could trap them into gambling for fourteen hours. The only difference being that they didn’t have to announce the emergency exits, and probably had been retrained to block them in case people tried to get away with undeserved cash.

  ‘Shall we walk around, and see what you’d like to play?’

  Dennis put a friendly hand on my arm to steer me around the tables, as I continued to be a little distracted. I couldn’t tell him the real reason I was here, so I replied in the affirmative – but my eyes were searching for Vicky. Where was she?

  We picked up our counters from the cash desk, and then slowly did a tour of the room. Unsurprisingly the tables were rather crowded, mostly with Indians; there were fewer foreigners than I had anticipated. Perhaps international tourists had no need to come all the way to Goa to gamble. For them the beaches would always be the greater lure.

  Many of the players, in any case, looked rather the worse for wear, as though they had been there for days and would have to be prised away from their table with a crowbar. Few bothered to look up as we approached, or even noticed each other. They were absorbed with the gods of fortune, spread out in front of them in red and black discs.

  In fact the seriousness with which they were staring at their roulette wheels, card decks and dice made one feel as though this was really the last-chance casino. Dennis and I seemed to be the only people who were relaxed as we strolled around, drinking and joking about the general gloom which hung like a pall over the place. If anyone had found a magical world where money dropped from the chandeliers onto their laps, they were keeping very quiet about it.

  Finally, to my relief, I spotted Vicky guiding a client to a roulette table. She was looking prettier than ever, in her full regalia of short skirt and black jacket.

  ‘Hey, Vicky,’ I called out.

  She turned her large startled eyes towards me.

  ‘Oh, hi,’ she said, bursting into laughter. ‘Oh lovely, lovely, lovely. You look gorgeous. You made it. Fantastic!’ She rushed towards me, dripping charm.

  It was as though she had met a very old friend, instead of someone she had bumped into accidentally on the beach just yesterday. But of course, I knew her affection would increase as the evening progressed and we donated more and more of our hard-earned cash towards the well-being of the Tempest and its owners.

  Yet it was impossible not to warm to her. She was like an affectionate puppy, sitting us down and beckoning a waiter to bring food and drink for her guests. She was obviously a senior and favoured member of the staff. Cocktails and snacks appeared, while she kept up a steady flow of chatter about how popular the casino was and how many people came here.

  The sad girl I had seen on the beach yesterday was completely hidden behind the veneer of sophistication and good cheer.

  I found myself wanting to tell her to relax, but of course I couldn’t. This bright unnatural banter was part of the uniform she had donned.

  Taking out his phone, Dennis aimed it towards us for a photograph. Suddenly one of the bouncers, a tall young man standing to one side, lunged out at him as though he had pulled a gun.

  ‘No photography, sir. Too many VIPs around. Not permitted.’

  Looking a little surprised, Dennis shrugged and put his phone away.

  Vicky touched his arm, saying apologetically, ‘My boss is here tonight and so they get extra strict.’

  Dennis was intrigued. ‘And why would he want anonymity? After all, he should be like Richard Branson, and want to be the face of the business!’

  Glancing around, Vicky leant forward confidentially. Actually he’s a minister in the union government and that’s why he likes to keep it low key. Very few people know he owns this place. If you look to my left you’ll see a bunch of people around a table playing blackjack behind the screen. Vinay Gupta. That’s the man in the blue safari suit, and all those with him are members of parliament.’

  ‘But what if something happens and we all have to be evacuated? Or if someone from the media comes on board? Then he won’t be able to hide!’ Dennis pointed out.

  I couldn’t help smiling as I remembered how, just the other day there had been headlines in the newspapers when some Goan police officers had been spotted on board a casino. They quickly locked themselves in with the manager, claiming that they were present only to ‘familiarize’ themselves with the way a casino works, as a media mob descended on them. Named and shamed, they had to face a severe reprimand from the state Home Minister. But it was natural that these casinos, which had been legalized only recently, should carry the fascination of the illicit. Lawmakers would be as attracted to them as anyone else. And once they got addicted, why would they not want to do some ‘revenue sharing’, as some preferred to call it?

  I looked towards the group, as casually as I could.
The screen gave them privacy from the rest of the ship, but from where we were sitting, close to the VIP area, they were clearly visible.

  There was the familiar-looking face of the Panchayati Raj minister, Vinay Gupta, with his trademark ferocious moustache. I almost laughed out loud.

  ‘Vicky you said he’s very fond of you. Does he ever come down to the beach? It would be lovely to meet him there sometime . . .’

  I paused, wondering if that sounded a bit desperate. But finding myself so close to the man who had probably been present on the night Liza disappeared, and who might have had Vishnu unlawfully jailed, I didn’t want to let him go so easily. Surely there would be a way for us to meet him.

  ‘But if that’s not possible,’ I added, ‘I have so many friends in Chandigarh. I am sure both of you would know them. And he must know my friends in the government. So we can also fix to meet either in Delhi or in Chandigarh.’

  I tried to escalate the comfort level, deliberably dropping a few names of people in the central government who now held important portfolios. Some of them had been with me in either school or college.

  ‘Sure, I’ll ask him. In fact he has a share in some beach shacks, so perhaps he might want to host you. It should be fun.’

  ‘Is Fernando’s one of them?’ I couldn’t help asking, sipping my vodka, and remembering Auntie Elizabeth’s reference to a man with a moustache.

  Vicky looked at me and then said quickly, ‘How did you guess? And also some at Baga beach.’

  ‘I read about him in the papers,’ I said. ‘I think he came for a Christmas celebration. Choir-singing or something.’

  Dennis raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?’ He looked a little puzzled, but I hoped he had the good sense not to say anything. I shook my head at him slightly, and he smiled and casually put a finger on his lips, taking it away before Vicky could catch the covert signal.

  Pushing a chicken tikka towards him, I asked Vicky casually, ‘And how long have you known him?’

  ‘Nearly two years. I met him in Chandigarh when he was interviewing us to become air hostesses in his airline. I had just finished school at the time.’