Pirate Vishnu (A Jaya Jones Treasure Hunt Mystery)

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by Pandian, Gigi


  “Even if your senses are to be believed—which I’m not sure about since it was a stressful situation—there’s more. You told her about the treasure right before Steven was killed.”

  “Coincidence.”

  “She was the only one who knew.”

  “Anyone Steven knew could have killed him,” I said.

  “You said his son and daughter-in-law have alibis.”

  “Christine and Connor,” I said. “If they were covering for each other, I wouldn’t believe it, but there was a crowd at an art show.”

  “Tamarind–” Sanjay began.

  “My colleague Naveen was working with Steven before that night.”

  “That makes my case even stronger,” Sanjay said. “Tamarind is the only one who would want to kill him that night.”

  “But why kill him at all?” I asked.

  “I don’t know yet. Maybe she went to see him and something went wrong. She’s a strong woman. Maybe she didn’t mean to kill him. There’s more. Tamarind is your friend, even though she’s crazy. She wanted the map from you, but she didn’t want to hurt you to get it. I’ll give her that much credit. The mugger didn’t stab you or anything that would have gotten that bag from you much more easily. That also explains that attack on me—serious enough to look bad and to scare you off, but not serious enough to do any real damage.”

  I closed my eyes. I couldn’t believe it. Not Anand. Not Tamarind. But who did that leave? Steven’s son and daughter-in-law had alibis. Could Lane be keeping something from me about his involvement, if someone from his past had forced his hand? And did Naveen’s involvement go deeper than I thought? Something wasn’t right with the picture Sanjay was painting. I didn’t know what it was, but I felt in my heart that something was very wrong.

  “Things aren’t always what they seem,” I said.

  “That’s true when I’m on stage,” Sanjay said, “but not in real life. Anand stole a treasure, and Tamarind is after it now. Like it or not, she betrayed you.”

  Chapter 37

  San Francisco, 1905

  “You’re sure?” Anand asked.

  “Samuel didn’t go to Colorado like he told us,” Li said. “He didn’t leave to try his hand in a silver mine.”

  “Why would he--”

  “He wanted to disappear,” Li said. “He faked his disappearance with the spirit cabinet that night so he could go somewhere much further without debt collectors looking for him.”

  “Samuel told us that much,” Anand said. “We know he faked his disappearance at the séance, leaving blood behind so his creditors would think he was dead and would not search for him.”

  “That’s not who he was hiding from,” Li said. “He was hiding from us.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “To journey to a land of riches that you’d told him all about.”

  “What are you trying to tell me?”

  “I saw it with my own eyes,” Li said. “Samuel is headed for India.”

  “There is no reason for him to go there.”

  “He asked you so many questions about the treasures of South India,” Li said. “I heard him with my own ears.”

  “That does not mean he is going to India,” Anand said. “We both spoke of our homelands over many evenings of whisky. I know much of Ireland, yet that does not mean--”

  “He used details of India for his fake séances with Mrs. Lancaster,” Li said. “She collects many treasures. How would Samuel go to India if not with her financial backing?”

  “I do not believe he would betray me,” Anand said. “Things are not always as they seem.”

  “But you know what, Anand? Sometimes they damn well are.”

  Chapter 38

  Sanjay and I had been so focused on our conversation that I hadn’t realized the rains had begun again. Calling the monsoon “rain” wasn’t a particularly accurate description at any time, but it was especially true at that moment. The monsoon that day was a powerful force impossible to confuse with a shower of rain. It was a blanket of water that didn’t seem to consist of individual drops of liquid.

  As Sanjay and I exited the restaurant and stood under the awning, sheets of rain obsured our view beyond a few yards. The water splashed back up from the ground, spraying our bodies with mist. Neither of us moved back inside. It wasn’t cold, and we both knew it was futile to fight it. Unless we wanted to stay inside the restaurant all day, there was no avoiding becoming soaked at some point.

  I had told Sanjay about everything that had happened in India. Well, almost everything. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell him about my last encounter with Lane. I wasn’t sure why.

  “Plan?” Sanjay said.

  “We can go back to the hotel and see about flights.”

  “Go home?” Sanjay said. “You’re joking. There’s no way we’re going home yet. Didn’t you listen to yourself about Naveen and the archivist?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re withholding an important letter. We need to see it.”

  “How do you suppose we convince them?”

  “You said the archivist who you suspect Naveen bribed is religious,” Sanjay said. “I can make him think the wrath of God is upon him.”

  “That’s cruel.”

  “Hey, he’s the one who’s holding Anand’s letter captive.”

  It had been the middle of the day when we left the hospital, so we found Joseph still in his office. When he saw us, his reaction was not what I was expecting.

  “Hindi Houdini!” Joseph said, clasping his hands together and rising to greet us. “It is truly an honor, sir. I was not to be recognizing you at first, not expecting you to be wearing...” He trailed off as his eyes stayed locked on the bright orange women’s tunic I’d purchased for Sanjay.

  I stared dumbfounded at Sanjay. “You’re famous here?”

  Sanjay shrugged.

  “Indian MTV did a few shows about me a few years ago, featuring my magic tour. My agent tells me the ratings were pretty good. It was before I met you.”

  Joseph’s face fell. “You are here with Professor Jaya?”

  “I’m helping her with some research,” Sanjay said. “You must be Mr. Joseph.”

  “Yes, yes, that is I.” His head bobbled as he blinked furiously, looking torn between nervous anxiety and boyish excitement. “You wished for my assistance, Mr. Houdini?

  “Thank you, Mr. Joseph,” Sanjay said, shaking his hand.

  “Anything I am able to do, I will do it.”

  “We’re looking for some letters,” Sanjay said.

  Joseph hesitated. “My most humble apologies,” he said. “The letters for Professor Jaya are not here. Anything else you would like? We have much information. Very much information.”

  “You know The Hindi Houdini can read minds,” I said.

  I’d been skeptical of Sanjay’s strategy, but now that it appeared Joseph was in awe of Sanjay, giving him the right prompting might just work.

  Joseph gulped. His moustache twitched.

  “Yes,” Sanjay said, following along. He touched his index fingers to his temples. “I sense you are hiding something from Professor Jaya.”

  “I did not know Professor Naveen was involved in murder!” Joseph said.

  “So he did bribe you for the letters,” I said.

  “He called me,” Joseph said, sinking into his chair, “speaking Malayalam. He told me I could not trust Professor Jaya. He mentioned he would be so very grateful if I would help him with his important research. He made a donation… But he said nothing of a man being murdered in America because of the letters! I do not want anything to do with that.”

  “We know you did not think you were doing anything wrong,” Sanjay said. “Paying you to bo
rrow the letters—”

  “No, no,” Joseph said. “He did not take them.”

  “He didn’t?” I asked.

  “What do you think of me?” Joseph sniffed indignantly and adjusted his glasses. “The archives must not leave the property. No, the letters are here. Professor Naveen’s donation was made so he could read the letters with an understanding that no other scholars would be granted access.”

  “The letters are here?” Sanjay said.

  Joseph hesitated again.

  “Naveen lied to you about not being able to trust Jaya,” Sanjay said. “He tricked you so he could make a discovery first. Remember,” he added, “Jaya is the one who told you the truth about a murder. Naveen only told you what you wanted to hear.”

  “Yes,” Joseph said, “he lied to me. He should not receive his donation back.”

  “We don’t care about that,” Sanjay said. “We only care about being able to see the letters. You’ll take us to them now?”

  “Are you feeling up for this?” I asked Sanjay. “There are a lot of letters to go through.”

  “Not necessarily,” Joseph said.

  “What do you mean?” Sanjay asked.

  “I watched Professor Naveen as he read the letters,” Joseph said. “There was one letter he was most interested in. One letter that made him smile and say Professor Jaya was looking in the wrong place.”

  Chapter 39

  Joseph made a photocopy of the relevant letter for us, which he tucked into an envelope and handed to Sanjay. Before we left, he got Sanjay’s autograph and invited him back any time. Sanjay was much more gracious than I was while we said our goodbyes. I was anxious to read the letter. After extricating ourselves from Joseph’s repeated handshakes, the sun had returned so we found a shady spot under a cluster of coconut trees and opened the envelope.

  April 2, 1906

  Thambi Vishwan,

  I may not be able to write for some time, but do not worry. I have seen the world and I do not fear anything in it.

  If anything should happen to me, I will write to you with information about something important for you to find in San Francisco. Follow the paths on the map. Ask my friend Faruk Marikayaer, in Kochi, for assistance. He knows to expect you. You will do me proud.

  Anand

  “Something important for him to find on a path in San Francisco,” I repeated, looking up at the coconut tree leaves swaying above me. “The letter takes on a whole new meaning once we know that there’s a treasure map. He wasn’t asking his brother to come visit him. He was telling Vishwan that he needed to find the Heart of India in San Francisco!”

  “Wait,” Sanjay said. “I thought the map was of Kochi?”

  “It’s both cities,” I said. “Naveen was right about the translation of My Cities—it was plural. The map served the purpose of telling two stories. Where the treasure was lost, from its origins in Kochi, and found, where it ended up in San Francisco.”

  “Why didn’t your grandfather ever receive the map?”

  “It sounds like Mai was supposed to send it to Vishwan if anything happened to Anand. But for some reason she didn’t.”

  “Who’s Mai?” Sanjay asked.

  “She’s the woman who wrote to my family telling them that Anand had been killed in the earthquake trying to save her brother, Li.”

  “But Steven Healy told you Anand was murdered. How does that fit?”

  “I feel like I’m so close to understanding what’s going on, but I can’t quite grasp it. If only I still had that map…” I closed my eyes and tried to think. A hot breeze blew over me. I could feel the approaching rain in the air, but I couldn’t recreate the map in my mind.

  “I don’t remember the details either,” Sanjay said. “Only those fishing nets Nadia made such a big deal about.”

  “It’s no use,” I said, opening my eyes and standing up. “I don’t remember enough.”

  “Why is this letter so vague, anyway? This would be so much easier if Anand hadn’t been so cryptic.”

  “It makes perfect sense that Anand didn’t want to write openly to Vishwan about the Heart of India. You never knew who would read your mail, and the Heart of India was controversial. Revolutionary. Anand had been involved in the movement for Indian independence. It wasn’t a good idea for him to write openly about anything concerning the Indian National Congress.”

  “Which included the Heart of India that its supporters created,” Sanjay said.

  “Exactly. So Anand broke up the information into different letters. He wrote to his friend Faruk about the Heart of India, and to his brother Vishwan about the hidden location of the treasure.”

  “I get it,” Sanjay said. “He expected them to find each other if necessary.”

  “Kochi held the clue to the treasure,” I said, “but the treasure is in San Francisco.” I groaned.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Naveen already knows all of this. That’s why he looked so self-satisfied in Kochi. I was wrong about him coming back to Trivandrum. He’s probably already back in San Francisco, figuring out where the treasure is.”

  “What do you say we get going, then?” Sanjay said.

  I kicked off my shoes and stretched out my legs on the reclining seat in the First Class section of our flight home to San Francisco via Dubai. Sanjay had bought the tickets. After learning he was more successful and famous than I’d realized, I didn’t put up a fight about being treated to the seat.

  “Why aren’t you worried about Naveen?” I asked as I ate a warm cookie the flight attendant had given out. The food in First Class was even better than the luxurious seat.

  “We know he didn’t kill anyone,” Sanjay said. “You figured that out.” He sat with his seat reclined, a pillow under his neck and a beer in his hand.

  “I know I said that. But he could have been working with whoever left the package at your door.”

  “You’re grasping at straws,” Sanjay said. “We need to focus on devising a plan to get the treasure map back from Tamarind.”

  “Tamarind wouldn’t kill anyone,” I said.

  “What if they’re working together?” Sanjay said. “You just said so yourself.”

  “That’s a ridiculous idea.”

  “Remember, Tamarind is the only one besides us who knew about the map that night,” Sanjay said. “The only one with a reason to act that night.”

  “But—”

  “You’re saying you don’t want that map back?” Sanjay said. “Did you suddenly remember the rest of what’s on the map? Do you have any better ideas?”

  I grumbled.

  “What was that?” Sanjay asked.

  “No, I don’t. You saw the map, too. Is your memory any better than mine?”

  “If I’d known it would be stolen,” Sanjay said, “I would have paid more attention—”

  “You have any suggestions?”

  “I do,” he said. “A séance.”

  I shifted in the soft seat to face Sanjay. I could really get used to flying First Class. “Are you still drugged up from the hospital?”

  “I’m serious,” Sanjay said.

  “You’re serious?”

  “I’ve got Samuel’s spirit cabinet.”

  “I know you can perform a fake séance with it,” I said. “But why?”

  “Tamarind is superstitious.”

  “True. But remember, if you’re right that she stole the map, then she doesn’t actually believe it was Samuel who came back from the grave to steal the map from me.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Sanjay said. “She’s superstitious, so if she stole it she’ll be even more freaked out when Samuel appears. If she’s working with Naveen, I bet she’ll reveal that, too.”

  “You’re going to make Sam
uel appear,” I repeated skeptically.

  “Jaya, when are you going to learn to trust in my abilities? With me in control, the séance will look real. If you can get people together for a séance, I can make Tamarind confess.”

  Chapter 40

  San Francisco, 1906

  The Heart of India -- the pearl with its elephant protector -- was gone from the town of Thoothukudi in the British territory.

  Anand learned of the theft from Vishwan, although Vishwan didn’t call it a “theft.” Vishwan wrote to his brother to tell him about the strange storm that had made the statue and its pearl disappear into the sea.

  Since Thoothukudi had a viable harbor with frequent arrivals and departures of merchant ships, Anand knew Samuel could have taken a ship from there to China, where he could return to San Francisco.

  Anand had not thought Samuel audacious enough to steal the Heart of India. But when he heard the news, he knew it was true. Samuel had taken his illusions a step further, stealing the statue and pearl for Mrs. Lancaster. She was as eccentric as she was rich, and Anand had seen how fascinated she was with antiquities from China and India.

  Samuel had perfected his skill with his spirit cabinet, and taken the principles of illusion to a grand stage. The Heart of India was no small trinket! But Anand should have known. His friend who had become like a brother was too smart to fail.

  Anand was too late to stop the theft, but through his connections to many boat builders, he was able to find out which departing ships could be transporting the statue.

  There was no possibility of going to the police. Anand had experienced their methods firsthand. They would never believe him over Samuel. He had to get to the Heart of India first.

 

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