Well, the cigarette thing didn’t make sense for I didn’t smoke. I guess she was confusing me with someone else. It was very common for the women folk of the office to get one of the office boys to get them cigarettes because it wasn’t the coolest thing to go to the corner shop to buy cigarettes yourself.
However I did not contradict her. With an enthusiastic ‘Glad to hear it. See you soon,’ I put down the phone.
It was almost noon and I knew my mother would be worried. So I quickly shot off a text to her saying, ‘Mom, great yoga. Now going to Select City for skirts. Will lunch outside. See you in the evening.’ My mother would be exasperated with me, but at least she wouldn’t be worried.
27
ANITA KNEW MADAM would take some time to reach Hauz Khas market. So she sat on the chair thinking over the events of the past few weeks. Bahadur had been acting differently for a while. He was sometimes away from home and would drink a lot. He would get calls, after which he had to leave immediately. Then last week that sahib had come in his big car asking about Bahadur and where he lived.
Bahadur often spoke to her about Tara Madam—though she couldn’t understand how Tara was linked with everything else. She decided she would reveal all she knew to Madam. Particularly about the papers she had pulled out from the files in Bahadur’s room. He had asked her to hide them in her house. The way Bahadur had been guarding those files she knew they were important and perhaps connected to his death as well.
She made her way out of her house cautiously, looking all around her. She was now on the main road, on the other side of which was Hauz Khas. She waited till the light turned red, then began to cross the road when out of nowhere a speeding car emerged and ran over her. It left her body crumpled, with her eyes bulging out and her purse lay open with one business card that was still safe in it.
He wished he didn’t have to kill the Nepalese woman. But she had the papers and she knew too much. He had seen her speaking to that nosy Tara outside Bahadur’s house. It was a matter of time before she would have spilt the beans. So he did what he had to do.
28
WHERE WAS SHE? It was almost 1 p.m. Had she had a change of heart and finally decided not to come? My mind was in a quandary.
I didn’t know how long I had been walking down memory lane but I realized there were still no sign of Anita. So I decided I might as well drive down to her place and look her up. I got into my car and took the back entrance to get to her house as I didn’t want anybody to see me going in and meeting her. Earlier, when I was with her, she almost seemed fearful like somebody would discover her. I decided I would not draw any attention to myself. I reached her house and rang the bell. No response. I tried opening the door and noticed it had been left slightly ajar. I walked inside and closed the door behind me.
‘Hello, is anybody in here?’ I went to the backroom, which had a bed and a mirror. I didn’t want to touch anything, as it would amount to prying. I decided I would leave and wait for her to call me. On my way out I noticed the Pashupathinathji painting was slightly topsy-turvy. Curious, I went over to set it right. The moment I did, I felt something behind the picture. I brought the picture down and noticed that there was a hidden cavity! But it was empty.
He was in the office compiling everything. Senior had called him at least twenty times in the past twenty-four hours and had sent numerous text messages. He had not responded even once. In a way, he got pleasure in harassing him but knew he couldn’t continue behaving like this. The copies were securely locked in his briefcase. He had managed to get everything together but then Tara had entered the office and he had had to stop what he was doing. He still needed some more documents which were strangely missing from the file. Where had they disappeared? He did remember Bahadur lingering around on the floor. That should have made him suspicious. Why was a guard hovering around inside the building when he really should be outside protecting the gate? He had to find a way to get the missing documents.
How was he going to do it? People usually came in to work on Sunday nights to get a head start on the week ahead. He decided he had to call Senior and tell him the truth.
‘Hello, it’s me.’
‘Where the hell have you been?’ screamed Senior at the other end. ‘Have you done the job?’
‘Yes.’
‘Thank God! I thought you had chickened out.’
‘Senior, I have most of the documents but last night I was interrupted in the office so I couldn’t complete the work.’
‘What do you mean “interrupted”?’
‘Somebody walked in. I will have it done soon. Can you give me just a couple of more days?’ he pleaded.
‘Okay,’ he said with irritation. ‘But just a few more days. After that I will take over and you know my way of taking over.’
He silently put down the phone and breathed a sigh of relief. At least he had managed to buy a few more days of time.
But how? He knew how. He dialled another number.
‘Yeah, it’s me.’ He quickly updated the person at the other end on the conversation he had just had with Senior.
‘Please, this is the one last time I need your help.’
‘Okay,’ the person replied.
29
ON MONDAY MORNING when I arrived at the office, I noticed some police cars parked outside. My heart sank: the police had come to my office already to make inquiries about my involvement in Bahadur’s death. I stepped inside thinking over the excuses I could give to Mr Kapoor.
Two cops were talking to him inside his room. Mr Kapoor saw me entering and signalled me to come over.
‘Tara, could you come here?’
‘Yes, sir?’ I asked in a confused way.
‘Tara, these gentlemen are here to see you.’
‘Yes?’
‘Are you Tara?’
I again replied in the affirmative.
‘Can we go into the conference room and talk to you in private?’
I nodded and led the way to the conference room.
I looked back. Mr Kapoor wasn’t following us in.
‘Do you know anybody by the name Anita Rana?’ the elderly policeman asked me.
‘Yes, of course. I just met her yesterday.’
‘How do you know her?’
I was compelled to tell them the whole story omitting the real reason for my going to Bahadur’s place and ending with the fact that she hadn’t turned up for the meeting after all. The cops must have known it anyway—they wouldn’t have come without doing their homework.
Then one of them said, ‘Anita is dead. She was run over.’
‘Dead? Oh my God, oh my God!’ I was shocked.
‘There have been two deaths in a row and we may need you to come to the police station for interrogation—you understand?’
‘Yes, of course, I will offer whatever help I can,’ I was almost in tears.
They realized it was time to leave me alone. They got up and left while I continued sitting in the conference room, staring into empty space, not knowing what was happening around me. Everything was falling apart.
Then I heard the door of the conference room opening. I looked up. It was Mr Kapoor.
‘Tara, what is going on? You have now dragged the police into our office?’ He was clearly angry. I had to repeat for the second time that day what had transpired the day before, only this time I told him that I had been following Bahadur because I had suspected him of being involved in the Project Emerald case.
He listened to me with rapt attention, then summed it up in one sentence, ‘Well, whatever has happened cannot be changed. Let’s get back to work.’ The jerk. There was no appreciation whatsoever.
Then he continued on a different topic. ‘Tara, I did mention last week that I would be making a trip to the US. Since we are representing the seller, there is a company board member we need to meet with. Once he agrees, we can expedite Project Emerald. Since all this has been going on in the office, this deal has become even more crucial for
the firm. I was thinking it might be a good idea if you came along. In the meanwhile, things will simmer down here. Since you have been working on the deal, you know what’s involved and we could do with an extra pair of hands.’ He added, ‘If the police raises any questions about your going abroad before the investigations are over, don’t worry, I will deal with them.’
The last sentence relieved me. As long as he supported me, I was good. And maybe going away for a bit was really the best thing to do. I had a feeling that once Project Emerald was signed, sealed and delivered, my problems would be behind me.
30
THE NEXT FEW days flew by in planning for the trip. I had to get all the paperwork together plus pack my own stuff. Thankfully, nothing out of the ordinary happened. My life had been so bizarre lately that now an ordinary life meant that there were no stalkers and my life wasn’t at risk. When I told Riya I was going to New York, I noticed the tinge of envy in her eyes that was quickly replaced by happiness. She knew I would get some respite from my problems.
Just before I was to leave, Riya came running towards me.
‘Hey Tara, I have an aunt in NYC. Do you think you could drop this package at her place?’
‘Sure.’
Her parents were divorced and Riya never really talked about her family, so I was surprised to learn about the aunt. I took the package and shoved it in my handbag. The rest of my bags were already packed and I had closed them with great difficulty. The last thing I wanted to do was reopen the bags again.
He pulled out his passport, showed it to the officer and smiled at him, then made his way towards the lounge. He crossed a newspaper kiosk and saw a magazine. It was an old edition. On the cover was an article about the Chinese New Year. He turned to the article and read the first line. He smiled. It was the year of the snake—it had to be lucky for him.
Part II
LEAVE ME ALONE!
31
I ARRIVED AT JFK exhausted after a fifteen-hour flight. It was a direct flight and I didn’t have to stop anywhere. Immigration was painful as usual. Finally, after almost two hours, I got out of immigration and proceeded towards the exit. I would have two days left after the meetings before flying back. I was glad I would get a break.
I stepped outside expecting somebody to receive me with a placard, but there was no one. I thought Suzy was arranging something. I waited a couple of minutes but then my patience started to run out. I decided to go stand in the queue for a yellow cab.
By the time I got a cab I was quite exhausted and irritated. But just my luck, my cab driver was a Bangladeshi and he kept telling me how much he liked Kishore Kumar and started asking me all sorts of questions. I politely responded to a few and then pretended to sleep as a cue to him to end the conversation. My mind unwillingly wandered to the events back in Delhi but I kept reassuring myself that whatever had been going on had been going on in India and now I was far away from all that.
A service apartment had been rented for me in the financial district. I reached the apartment that would be my home for the next few days. I paid the taxi driver and left him a generous tip. Then I went to the front desk and got my keys.
I made my way to the fourteenth floor, which in the US was effectively the thirteenth as a lot of condos did away with the supposedly unlucky thirteenth. The apartment was nice and charming. It was done in white and you could tell why such a stark colour had been chosen: to camouflage the cheap furniture. It was 7 p.m. Might as well explore the area a bit. So without unpacking I took a quick shower, then got into a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt and comfortable walking shoes and went downstairs. There is something so electrifying about Manhattan. There are two main highways that connect Manhattan: the West Side Highway and the FDR. I crossed the West Side Highway and made my way towards Battery Park. I crossed a dog park, which was so uniquely a Manhattan thing: dogs playing, dog parents busy on their cell phones. I stood for a couple of minutes looking at the dogs. Each one had such a definite personality. I was in a happier place already.
I walked straight down and it being early evening, the view that greeted me was breathtakingly beautiful. The New Jersey skyline was all lit up. I could feel the journey’s tiredness catching up with me so I made my way to a bench along the Hudson and sat down, admiring the view and literally soaking it up. Around me I could see joggers, tourists taking pictures, and people strolling around. I had a 9 a.m. appointment the next morning and keeping my jetlag in mind, now was about the right time to head back, unpack and get ready for the gruelling next few days.
32
I WAS RUDELY interrupted by the alarm clock. Oh hell. It was 7 a.m. already. I leapt out of bed quickly and hopped into the shower. After a quick breakfast I walked down Wall Street to Trump Building. I reached the lobby. I produced my id card and got a pass. I made my way upstairs to the twenty-fourth floor. Mr Kapoor was nowhere to be seen. So I went up to the assistant and introduced myself. She guided me to a conference room. I sat down and waited. I looked outside the window but all I could see were concrete structures. I heard the door click and Sailesh walked in.
‘You?’ I blurted out without thinking. To the best of my knowledge, he wasn’t supposed to be here.
‘Yes, Tara? This isn’t the first time we are seeing each other.’
‘I mean, what brings you here?’
‘Mr Kapoor asked me to come of course.’
‘Oh, I wasn’t aware of that.’
‘Well, now you know,’ he smiled.
He sat down right next to me. I had no option but to be polite.
‘So Sailesh, is this your first time in New York?
‘In fact, it is. I have been to other parts of the US but have always missed New York and California. Now we will get to see both places.’
I looked at him a little suspiciously. ‘What do you mean we will see both places?’
I could tell Sailesh was happy that he had the upper hand on information that I wasn’t privy to.
‘Mr Kapoor mentioned that since it’s a long weekend here and not much work will get done, he suggested we could all head to California where his sister lives. She has recently had a baby whom he hasn’t seen yet and we could continue our discussions there with one of the very influential board members, Mr Balbir.’
I wasn’t aware of this and I wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of spending a weekend with just AK and Sailesh.
Just then Mr Kapoor walked in with one of the company representatives. We sat down and started discussions immediately. They lasted until lunch time. It looked like they were ready to go ahead with the deal, which was good for all of us—the sooner we finalized the deal, the better it would be for everyone.
After lunch Mr Kapoor said he had to look into a few things and we could continue using the conference room to finalize the documents that needed to be taken to California with us. Before I could say anything, predictably, Sailesh the shirker fibbed that he was coming down with something and would prefer resting. Mr Kapoor curtly nodded and stepped out. Sailesh started collecting his things and gave me the all too familiar wink.
‘So Tara, enjoy the rest of the day. I plan on going for a nice long swim in Chelsea Piers then meeting a friend for a drink.’
‘Have fun,’ I said, without looking up. Wasn’t this supposed to be a joint effort? Or was I to do all the work myself? There was no reasoning with someone like Sailesh and truthfully, his sticking around would only have irritated me more.
I started going over some papers when I realized that I hadn’t emailed Riya like I had promised. I logged into my personal account. Wow. I had seventy-five new emails. The majority were solicitations by stores and a few forwards from people I knew. Why did people still insist on sending those? They were relevant a decade back but now they were just a pain. Then I saw an email from Riya. It was a brief mail asking how I was, then at the bottom of her message was the address of her aunt in the Upper West Side of Manhattan and also her phone number. I remembered I had to deliver a pa
rcel to her. Today might just be a good day to go see her because AK wasn’t returning. With this California trip, I might not get a chance later on. I called Riya’s aunt and left her a message on her voicemail.
I got back to my mound of files. After about forty minutes, I heard my phone buzzing. My parents had got a phone connection on their last trip to the US that I was conveniently using now.
‘Hello Tara, this is Aryana, Riya’s aunt.’
‘Hello, how are you? Riya has sent a package for you. I was wondering if I could drop it off this evening?’
‘Sure. What time would you like to come over?’
‘Would around 5 p.m. work for you? I still have some work I need to wind up before I can head over.’
‘Sure, see you then.’
The next couple of hours I tried prepping for the meetings ahead but exhaustion was taking over. It was mostly jet lag and the best way to deal with it would be to try staying awake now and then sleeping early.
33
I STEPPED OUT of the office building, made my way to the curb, and hailed a cab to the Upper West Side. Riya’s aunt lived in a charming neighbourhood. It was lined with trees and she lived on the ground floor of a very old brown-stone building. I used the brass knocker and knocked on the door. I was greeted by a woman in her mid-fifties wearing a pair of loose black trousers with a loosely flowing black silk blouse and white hair piled up and with no make-up on her face. I was a little taken aback and I could bet this wasn’t the first time she had received such a reaction. She possessed a disarming serenity and calmness—it was more than mere beauty.
‘Come on in. It’s so good to see one of Riya’s friends.’
I gave her my jacket and took off my shoes at the entrance. Her apartment wasn’t very big but was very cheerfully decorated. In the living room was a nice cream sofa with an open kitchen with bar stools. There was only one painting on the wall, a beautiful abstract one. I also noticed a bedroom. She appeared to live alone. I couldn’t feel the presence of a man or children though I could see a white Persian cat prancing about.
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