“I don’t trust the police.” Tushar hunched into his chair. “The way they spoke to me when Lalit reported this, like I was dirt. Like it was my fault, somehow.”
“It isn’t,” Shardul said.
“No, it’s not,” I agreed. “I’m so sorry the police have treated you like this, and of course I’ll help. I’ll need copies of everything you’ve received. Originals if they’re on paper or physical in some way.”
“What about protection?” Ursemin asked.
“Someone in your position should be thinking about it anyway. I can recommend some reliable firms who do personal protection work.”
“You don’t? I hoped...see, I like you,” Tushar said with a sudden brilliant smile. “I could stand having you around. But not some stranger.”
Shardul coughed. “You hardly know Javen.”
“Yes, but he’s obviously a good person. You trust him, I can see that.”
I cleared my throat, embarrassed and also amused by Shardul’s reaction to that statement. “Well, I don’t do that kind of thing. It’s more than one person can handle, actually. If you don’t want to go to the expense of a bodyguard, I can offer you some advice on how to keep yourself safe. No charge,” I added.
“Thank you,” Tushar said, reaching forward to clasp my hand. “I already feel better. It’s been preying on my mind. It’s draining, expecting a threat every time I read a note or answer the phone.”
Did he have any idea what effect his touchy-feeliness had on the average person? I willed my erection to go away and gently eased my hand out from under his. “It would do. It’s nasty business. But the police are probably right that there’s no real danger. I hope not, anyway. Do you have the messages with you? Are they electronic or physical?”
“Both. And some voice messages on Lalit’s phone.”
“So you know he’s male.”
Tushar nodded. “Older too. Vile. He says he’s a fan but he hates me. Calls me a banis slut and says I’m corrupting his people.” He shuddered. “Never had someone say such things. And then the police talk to me as if they thought I was a slut too.”
Never had I wished more that my former colleagues had shown a grain of common decency towards the minority residents. I’d spoken to many victims of stalking—more often women than men—and there was nothing trivial about the situation. “Upsetting though it is, you should understand your distress is what he wants. That’s what he’s after, not to see you actually injured.”
“Why are people like that?” Tushar asked. “I don’t understand what motivates anyone to say such things to a complete stranger.”
“Lack of self-esteem,” Shardul said. “He attacks you to diminish you and raise himself accordingly.”
“Yes,” I said. “And it’s also about control. So we get that control back. Now about the fee....”
“We’ll pay whatever it takes,” Tushar said firmly. Ursemin swallowed. Didn’t blame him.
“I’m sure, but I offer special rates for Nihani clients. I’ll quote you a fixed fee of three hundred dolar to identify this person. If I fail, you pay fifty percent of that. If I identify him, then what we do after that is something we can talk about.”
Shardul coughed. He knew that was very much below my usual rate, but damn it, I didn’t want to exploit this kid at the start of something so incredible.
“Ah, and I want free tickets to another concert if I find him.”
Tushar clapped his hands. “Of course! It would be a pleasure to have you there, and Shardul and any one else you want to bring. But can you really find him? I just want this to stop.”
“I’ll do my very best.”
They had most of the physical letters with them, and Ursemin forwarded the electronic ones to my account. Shardul recorded the voice messages from Ursemin’s phone, and I questioned the two of them a little longer before calling the interview to a halt. “Best thing you can do if he calls again, is hang up,” I told Ursemin. “Don’t respond to anything he sends.”
I gave them some tips about personal safety, which Ursemin wrote down, and suggested they contact a personal security firm for an assessment of Tushar’s safety, if they wanted to be sure they’d covered as much as they could. They left looking much more relieved than when they’d walked in, but Shardul was now the sombre one.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, assembling the material into a folder he’d given me.
“If a Kelon attacks or even kills Tushar, relations might deteriorate rapidly.”
“Agreed, but I doubt it’ll happen.”
“Not at this man’s hands, perhaps. You think he’s the only one jealous of a banis rising above his station?”
I hadn’t even thought about it, and if anything pointed up the difference between my life and Shardul’s, this did. “If he has to hire protection, he’ll go broke before he makes any money. Maybe your community should think about some kind of voluntary watch?”
“A good idea. Sri Ursemin has managed performers before. I’m surprised how little thought he seems to have given the issue.”
“He has? That’s weird. But Tushar’s bigger than most. Maybe he’s never had to worry about it.”
“Perhaps.”
“Don’t believe it?”
“I have insufficient information. Can you find this man? You have very little to go on.”
“On the contrary. We know he identifies as Kelon, and he’s middle-aged, poorly educated, left-handed, homosexual, and single. Also, he lives alone, and is possibly mixed-race, certainly secretly. He’ll have a job that’s low skill and low status, if he’s employed at all, and will have a very limited social circle.”
Shardul raised his eyebrows. “Now that’s supernatural.”
I tapped my head. “I’m very clever. And there’s a certain profile that fits these cases. I also think he’s likely to have a criminal record for petty offences, so if I can find where these letters were sent from, I should have enough to narrow down a search of the city’s offender database. He probably attended one or more of Tushar’s concerts. If I can get a list of ticket buyers, and cross reference with the offender list, that’ll give me some names to start with.”
“You’re good at this.”
“Yeah, I am. I was a damn good cop too.”
“Right now, for my people, you still are.”
I sighed. “Encourage more of your young people to join the force. I keep telling you that.”
“We need our best and brightest to become professionals and raise wealth and social status. There aren’t enough to waste on your bigoted police.”
“Then things aren’t going to change.”
“They will, just not as fast as they could. So, do you want to meet my cousin this afternoon?”
“Haven’t you got things to do?”
“I thought the invitation was for the entire day, but if you’re done, I can always find things to occupy me.”
It was a gorgeous warm day, and Shardul had just placed himself at my disposal. I wasn’t slow. “Feel like looking at places to build a house instead? Via a river walk and refreshment up in the mountains?”
“That would be most acceptable.”
I hid my grin. I didn’t want to think of it as a date, but damn it—it was a date. And I intended to enjoy every second of it.
~~~~~~~~
After I put in a request for an offender list and ticket purchasers, I set Vik on the task of cross-matching likely suspects for our stalker the next day. My mind drifted back to the previous afternoon with Shardul, and how relaxed he’d been. I could do that for him more often, I thought. With me, he didn’t have to act the protector, or wait to be asked for help. I wasn’t important enough in his life for him to stress over most of the time, so he could simply enjoy himself. I liked seeing him happy.
I had to admit Tushar intruded a few times, and he’d featured in a couple of pornographic dreams overnight. But Shardul was right. I had no chance with the kid. Ursemin had him under firm control and besid
es, he was spoiled for choice. Why would a desirable, respectable Nihani youth go for an older, Kelon ex-cop, when he had his pick of almost anyone? He wouldn’t. But he made good fantasy material.
Vik had a short list of possibles in just over an hour. “Good work,” I said, scanning the names. “See if you can get current phone numbers for them, and then we’ll try to record some voices. Dig out employment and residential records too.”
“Right you are, boss.”
Prachi, still blowing her nose and sniffling, had been downhearted to learn she’d missed out on meeting Tushar. “Can I help on this too, boss? Maybe make some of the calls?”
“Sure, so long as you’re caught up. I suppose you want to meet him when I give him the results too.”
She flushed. “Could I? Really, boss?”
“Sure, why not. Not many perks on this job, so what harm would it do? Madan, you’re not star-struck, are you?”
“Of course not. He plays the tambura. Sounds like a dying kolija.”
Prachi giggled at my astonished reaction, then sneezed. I waved at her. “Away with you, girl, before you infect the rest of us. No meeting hot singers if you’re still sick.”
“I'b nod sig.”
“Of course not. Shoo.”
Once Vik found phone numbers, I had him and Prachi call on the pretext of carrying out a survey. Prachi ran the recorded voices through an analyser, and one was a clear match. Phanindra Benay, forty-three, employed as a cleaner, with a record of minor public nuisance offences, and one citation from the city council for having an unkempt and unhygienic residence. He’d also been to three of Tushar’s shows.
“So this is him?” she said.
“He’s a strong candidate. We could be right off the mark here, but I think we have enough to investigate Sri Benay a little more closely. I want images, handwriting, and recent movements. Vik, you handle the fieldwork. Prachi’s a public health hazard.” He grinned while she screwed her nose up at me. “Don’t approach him or contact him, okay? If we’re wrong and he gets the slightest suspicion of what we’re up to, he’ll sue the arse off me. We’ll leave co-workers and friends until we have a stronger case.”
“Sure, boss.”
I left them to it, but my thoughts turned to how best to handle this. Without hard proof or an actual crime, the man could complain of harassment. He might also ramp up the attacks in revenge. If I could somehow force a confession out of him, even informally, a stiff letter from Shardul might do the trick, and if not, then that would be enough to force the police to take an interest. Such cases were tricky, when the stalker had yet to break cover and there was no overt connection between the suspect and the victim. Still, if Tushar had been a wealthy Kelon, the police would have taken action, however nebulous the threat.
I had other cases to work on, and for the money I was charging, I couldn’t afford to spend too much time on Tushar’s business. My assistants had it under control and it was good experience for them—definitely not the kind of case that came along every day, even if the detective work itself was routine. Prachi and Vik were about to take their second round of exams for their investigative methods and ethics course. They were almost ready to handle a few cases on their own. This could be their dry run.
By the end of the day, the two of them had come up with enough that I felt I could present Benay as a plausible candidate to Tushar and his manager. Prachi had found a copy of Benay’s signature and the handwriting fit with what we had, though it wasn’t conclusive. Vik had confirmed Benay had posted items at the local post outlet, the same one from where several messages had been sent. Not enough to convict him, but more than enough to take it to the next stage. I called Ursemin and he suggested I come over to the concert hall where Tushar was warming up for the show.
Vik pretended he had no interest in meeting Tushar, but he forgot about my empathy. Prachi didn’t even try to be cool. I thought it was adorable, actually. My assistants were the hardest-working, smartest kids I’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, and seeing them this excited about something so silly charmed the pants off me. Maybe I should turn in my grumpy old curmudgeon badge. Didn’t seem to be getting a lot of use lately.
Ursemin took us to a basement dance rehearsal room. Tushar, half-naked, damp and delicious, greeted the three of us like long-lost relatives. Prachi looked about to die from happiness as he embraced her. “They’re not used to clients hugging them,” I said, keeping a straight face.
Tushar chewed his lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.”
“You really haven’t. But Prachi, Vik, maybe you’d like to give your report to Sri Tushar before he has to get back to the show. They did the research for me under my direction,” I added as Ursemin lifted his hairy eyebrows at me.
My assistants managed to calm down and presented the information as professionally as anyone could ask. Tushar said nothing when they were finished, leaving his manager to accept the report and our account. “So we can’t be sure this is the man?”
“No, and any action you take or we do on your behalf has to reflect that. In police terms, he’s a ‘person of interest’, and nothing more. If you barge in and accuse him, you could end up sued, assaulted or worse. Since he’s Kelon and Tushar’s not, it’s even more sensitive.”
Tushar shuddered. “I never want to meet him.”
“I’d strongly advise against it. Now either I could speak to him, sound him out, and deliver a warning off if he confesses, or you could ask someone else to do so. Our report makes it very clear that he’s been singled out based on strong indicators, but no actual evidence other than the voice match, which is far from definitive. If you choose to accuse him directly, you can’t use what we’ve said as proof, and if you try, I’ll make it clear you have none.”
“I understand. You don’t want to be sued.”
“No. I also don’t want an innocent man’s reputation stained.”
“I think we need to take some time to think about things.”
“Take all the time you want,” I agreed. “Has there been anything else? Any more messages?”
“No, thank goodness. They distract Tushar from his work.”
“Oh, that reminds me.” Tushar clapped his hands together. “Do you want tickets for this evening, Prachi? Vik? How about you, Javen?”
“I really can’t tonight, but if you two want to, then take a taxi back and charge it to the office. I think it would be good for research purposes.”
Vik affected a put-upon air. “Oh, in that case.” I tried not to grin. Did he really think he was fooling anyone?
“Lalit? Can you arrange it? And please, give Javen two pairs to use. I mean, if you want them.”
“I’d love it,” I said as Ursemin hesitated in handing over the tickets in his pocket. “My brother and sister-in-law would like to come, and I want them to see your show.”
“Great!” Tushar did a twirl and a high kick, and Vik’s eyes nearly popped out of his head with surprise. “Prachi, you’ll have the best seats in the house. Tell me your favourite song so I can sing it for you.”
“Sing anything,” she gushed. “I love everything you sing.”
I grinned. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Vik, Prachi, Tushar needs to rehearse. Maybe you could go get a quick meal before the show. Charge it to me too. Enjoy yourselves.”
“Thanks, boss,” they chorused. I left in the warm glow of satisfaction of a job well done.
At home, I spread a little more joy, handing over both pairs of tickets to Tara. “You don’t want to come?” she asked.
“If you haven’t anyone else to ask, sure. But offer them to a friend first. They’ll thank you.”
“You’re so kind.”
“Shardul made a suggestion about the new house. He thinks I should build one.”
“Oh.” Her weak smile couldn't disguise the distinct lack of enthusiasm.
“Think it’s a bad idea?”
“Oh, no. I hadn’t really thought about that option. I
guess it makes sense. But Javen, there’s no hurry.”
I pointed at her very slightly rounded tummy. “Tell that to little miss in there.”
“It’s months and months away.”
“Yes, but if I decide to build, I should get cracking. I need to find land, and then decide on a design, then arrange a builder, then there’s all the decorating—”
She put her hand on her forehead. “Stop, you’re making me tired just thinking about it. This place was a spec build. Fortunately, it turned out to be perfect for what we wanted.”
“It’s a lovely home, and I love it and you in it. You’ll see me around plenty of times,” I said, kissing her cheek.
“I hope so. We’re so used to you being here. Makes me feel safe.”
“Yashi doesn’t?” She nudged me in the ribs. “Ow.”
“Of course he does. But you’re the police officer. And besides, the boys adore you. It’s brought something special to their lives with you being here.”
“Stop, you’ll make me cry.” I grinned. “I won’t be going far away, and just try to stop me visiting.”
“I’d never do that.” She tucked the tickets into her wallet. “My turn to cook.”
Yashi had bath duty, so all was quiet downstairs temporarily. “Why don’t you relax and let me? I can follow instructions.”
She fell onto a chair with a groan. “You’re on. Just to sit down is pure luxury.”
When I moved out, I wouldn't be able to do this. But I could always invite them over for a home-cooked meal. I’d have to learn to cook better than I did, though. Kirin had never managed to teach me, and living with a good cook meant I let him do what he was best at. Another reason to move out. About time I learned basic survival skills.
Prachi and Vik bubbled over with enthusiasm the next day, finally driving Madan out of the office to ‘see a client’. I let them go on as long as they wanted. They’d done a nice job of the research on the case, and deserved to enjoy their reward. But after that, all went quiet. I heard nothing from Ursemin or Tushar. I messaged Shardul to say we’d identified a possible candidate for the stalker, and all he said was “Keep me informed.”
Different Senses Page 29