“You didn’t kill Steven?”
“What are you talking about?” Tamarind gaped at me.
“She didn’t do it,” Sanjay said. “Tamarind has been lying, but about something else. She was lying about the documents she found, not about what she’d done.”
“Wait,” Tamarind said. “Anand yelled both thief and murderer. He thought I killed someone? Anand’s spirit wasn’t talking about himself?”
“Tamarind,” Sanjay said. “I’m really sorry, but that was me. Not Anand.”
“Shut. Up. You’re lying. That was totally Anand. How could you fake that?”
“It was an illusion. That’s what I do.”
“You’re trying to do a cover-up?” Tamarind crossed her arms and shook her head firmly. “After what I just saw, I don’t think so.”
Sanjay set down the papers in his hand so he could remove his bow tie and unbutton the top buttons of the dress shirt of his tuxedo. After reaching the third button, I caught a glimpse of a shiny object under his shirt. He pulled the shirt open wider, revealing electronic equipment duct taped to his chest.
“You’re sworn to secrecy,” he said. “If any of you ever reveal this—”
“We have no idea how those wires did anything we saw tonight,” I said. “Your secrets are safe. Now will someone please explain what you two are talking about?”
“You’re all crazy,” Naveen said. “All of you.”
Tamarind walked up to Sanjay and ran her fingers over the duct tape, frowning. Sanjay didn’t seem to mind.
Nadia cleared her throat.
“Right,” Sanjay said, buttoning up his shirt. “I knew Tamarind was lying about something. I thought she had murdered Steven, but what’s really going on is that she withheld information she found in her research so that you wouldn’t get hurt, either emotionally or physically, by learning the truth.”
“I’m sorry, Jaya,” Tamarind said. “Anand wasn’t who you thought he was. But that’s pretty awesome that you thought I could kill someone to watch out for you. I guess I’ve got some street cred left after all.”
Sanjay and I looked at each other. Neither of us had the heart to tell her that’s not why Sanjay thought she killed someone.
“These papers,” Sanjay said, “contain information Tamarind found in her research that she kept from both of us. This information suggests that Anand was a murderer.”
“You think Anand was a murderer?” I said. Maybe Tamarind was right that I didn’t want to know. “How did you find out?”
“After you found those first references,” Tamarind said, “it wasn’t hard to find. But you were so distracted after you were mugged and left the country that you didn’t follow up at the library. I kept looking. Sanjay came over to look as well. But I didn’t like the last part of what I found, so I kept it to myself.”
“What did you find?”
Tamarind hesitated.
“Anand killed his friend. It was never proven, but it’s pretty clear.”
“You got it wrong,” Sanjay said. “Anand didn’t kill Samuel.”
“He did it using that thing,” Tamarind said, gesturing toward the spirit cabinet. “It was reported in the papers. That’s why I freaked out when I saw it here. And why I really thought Sanjay was able to communicate with Anand, who murdered someone inside it. That’s what I was keeping from you, Jaya.”
“That’s why you lied to Sanjay about those particular newspaper records being missing,” I said.
“The newspapers were wrong,” Sanjay said. “Samuel didn’t die.”
“But I have the reports,” Tamarind said, pointing at the stack of photocopies Sanjay had found in her bag.
“I figured it out when I bought the cabinet,” Sanjay said. “Didn’t you wonder how I got out? It has a hidden escape hatch. An ingenious one. I could have been halfway to Mexico by now without any of you knowing that I’d left.”
“Well,” Naveen said, “this certainly has been enlightening. I’ve learned a lot about Jaya’s research methods.”
“Hold on, Naveen,” Sanjay said, holding up a cell phone.
“Hey,” Naveen said. “That’s my phone.”
“You should have a more creative password if you don’t want people to read your mail.”
“Give that back,” Naveen said, running up to Sanjay to grab the phone. Sanjay handed it back to him.
That’s why Sanjay had wanted Naveen at the séance. He’d planned to do these searches all along.
“He’s innocent, too,” Sanjay said, looking at me.
“Reading other people’s email is illegal,” Naveen said. He tucked the phone into an inside pocket of his suit and glared at Sanjay.
“If you really want me to tell everyone about—”
“I can overlook it in this case,” Naveen said hastily. “Even though you’re all crazy, so nobody should believe anything you say.”
“Naveen has been trying to track down the Heart of India,” Sanjay said to me, ignoring Naveen. “But nothing more.”
“I already told you that,” Naveen said. “I learned about it first. It’s my discovery.”
“It’s nobody’s discovery,” I said. “If anyone could claim credit, it would have been Steven Healy, but even he had the information handed to him, just like you did.”
Naveen glowered at me as the faint sound of birds chirping filled the cavernous room.
“That would be my phone,” Nadia said. “You have searched it, too?”
Sanjay shook his head. “I wouldn’t dream of touching your bag, Nadia.”
She hurried from the room to grab her bag, returning a few moments later with her cell phone at her ear and a grave expression on her face.
“Why did you—” she said. “Yes, I know, but— Why did you not call? Messages? I have been occupied. No, it is fine. You did the right thing. I do not want you to lie to the police.” She hung up the phone and swore in Russian.
“Jaya, you must leave. That was Carol from next door. Why could she not lie to the police?” Nadia threw her hands up in frustration. “The police were at our house, looking for you. If you do not wish to go to jail, I expect you will leave here. Carol told the police I had gone to your magician friend’s house. I do not think it will take the police too long to figure out where you are.”
“The police?” I said. “What do they want with me?”
“They mentioned the murdered man to her. It does not sound good.”
My heart sank.
They couldn’t possibly think I murdered Steven Healy. Could they?
A different phone rang. Sanjay picked up a subtle phone built into the wall next to the light switch. He mumbled something and hung up.
“Too late,” he said. “That was the doorman. The police are on their way up. They’re taking the elevators. You guys take the stairs. Hurry. Everybody out!”
Chapter 47
San Francisco, 1906
Because of the size of the Heart of India statue, Anand knew Samuel would have no choice but to take the whole journey by boat, rather than taking a ship bound for New York and switching to a train. The journey by ship would take weeks.
Anand would be ready.
Eddie proved to be the most dedicated of men, doing much more than was necessary to repay his debt to Anand. He secured a ship, enlisted a dozen men from his extended family who were skilled at sea, and swore the men to secrecy.
Eddie’s men listened attentively to Anand’s plan, interrupting to make suggestions but never doubting their involvement.
They were honorable men, Anand hated that they must risk becoming outlaws. Pirates.
Anand knew what he must do to minimize their risk. If anything were to go wrong, he would take the blame himself. Anand was a Pirate now. If he and his men were
caught, he would claim he commanded the crew against their will.
He had the perfect name for himself. A name that signified restoring order and balance.
He would be Pirate Vishnu.
The plans of the honorable pirates were coming together perfectly--until they attacked the wrong ship.
The mistake wasn’t the crew’s fault. Anand and Li had pieced together the information as best they could, but it was uncertain what day Samuel’s ship would arrive and similar vessels approached on the same sea route.
Pirate Vishnu and his crew made sure they did not harm any of the men on the ship they attacked. The pirates were seen by the ship’s crew, but escaped without capture. They retreated into the fog and waited.
A few days later, when the ship they sought rolled into the Golden Gate, they were ready.
Chapter 48
“You can’t go home or go to the university,” Sanjay whispered in my ear, pulling me aside while the others rushed out of the loft and down the stairs. “They’ll look for you there.”
“You want me to run?” I asked.
“Do you want to be arrested,” Sanjay hissed, “or do you want to be free to figure this out? The police are only going to get in the way right now.”
“I don’t know…”
“Technically you don’t know they want to arrest you,” Sanjay said. “So it’s not really like you’re evading them. They just happened to miss you.”
He had a point.
“Where am I supposed to go?” I asked. “The police could pull any credit card transactions.”
Sanjay pulled out his wallet and frowned. “I’ve only got fifty dollars on me. Doesn’t your father live around here? There are enough people named Jones that they shouldn’t find you there right away.”
“You’ve met my father. You can’t think he’s the best—”
“You don’t have a lot of options, Jaya. Unless you want to go to jail or hide in the spirit cabinet, I suggest you take the other stairs—”
“There’s another set of stairs?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t have told everyone to take the stairs if there wasn’t. I’m sure any second now Naveen will be telling the police where to find you. “There’s no way you should go down the same set of stairs as him. You’ll be taking the service stairs.”
“Naveen,” I muttered in anger before another thought occurred to me. “What was it you found on his phone that he didn’t want anyone to know about?”
“You need to go, Jaya.” Sanjay pulled me into the hallway and led me to a discreet door I never would have noticed, even if I’d been thinking straight.
Right before closing the door behind me, he popped his head into the stairwell and grinned.
“Nothing,” he said.
“What?”
“It was a bluff. I didn’t have time to find anything embarrassing on Naveen’s phone. But everyone has something to hide.”
The problem with my father was you never knew what to expect. Richard Jones was a selfless parent, but in his own way. He didn’t live on the same planet as most of us. I knew he would do anything to protect me, but what he thought was good for me might be even more questionable than Tamarind and Sanjay’s “help.”
It had come to this. Running to a home where I’d never felt very much at home. Sanjay was right that it was the best alternative I had. I needed time to regroup and figure out my next steps.
My father lived in Berkeley, just ten miles away over the Bay Bridge from San Francisco, in a small Craftsman house in what was considered a bad neighborhood. The income of a sitar teacher wasn’t very much, but it was enough to clothe my brother and me in second-hand tie dye clothing, furnish a modest home with bean bags as couches, use incense to cover the smells of what my father and his friends were smoking, and feed us meatless meals. The experience taught me that color is overrated, intoxicants should be imbibed rather than smoked, and meat is the most exquisite food on earth.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs in Sanjay’s building, I saw something that made my heart sink even lower than I thought possible. I didn’t see any police, but my car was being towed. My parking karma had run its course—I had parked too close to a fire hydrant.
I took a deep breath. I didn’t have a car, but I could catch a BART train to Berkeley. The closest stop would drop me off within less than a mile of my dad’s house.
I didn’t have my headphones to listen to music on the ten minute run to the BART station. I had nothing to distract me from thoughts about what I was missing from Uncle Anand’s treasure map, Lane Peters, who flashed in and out of my life, or this trip to see my father. It was probably for the best to be in silence anyway, so I could be on the lookout for the police. How had this become my life?
I was slightly winded as I slid my ticket through the stall at the station. I’d never thought about closed-circuit video cameras before, but now I noticed them everywhere. I wished I’d thought to take a hat from Sanjay’s place. I wrapped my arms around myself and sunk down into a seat in the train headed to Berkeley.
I closed my eyes and wondered if I was doing the right thing. My dad might be stoned out of his mind, blocking out thoughts of my mother and her untimely death, but he’d do what he could to help me. When I stopped growing just under five feet tall, he drove me around in his VW van to every self-defense class in the Berkeley area to make sure I found a way to protect myself. When I graduated early from high school at sixteen, he supported my decision not to go straight to college. He also didn’t pressure me when I turned eighteen, which led to me not starting college until I was in my twenties.
My father’s house sat at the corner of two residential streets. As I approached the house from the smaller side street, I saw a movement through the window. It was my father walking through the room, his gray-blond hair long in a ponytail resting on his back over a white linen shirt. I took a deep breath and knocked.
“Hi Richard,” I said as he opened the door.
My father blinked at me in astonishment. He looked much the same as the last time I’d seen him six months ago. I think he was wearing the same flowing white shirt over white linen trousers with orange Birkenstocks on his feet.
“Did you tell me you were coming?” He blinked again. I detected a faint whiff of sweet smoke coming from inside the house. Now that I looked more carefully, I saw that his eyes were mildly bloodshot.
“Can I come in?” I asked. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s kind of important.”
“Of course! Would you like an acai smoothie?” My father put his arm around me and pulled me into the living room where bean bags lined two walls. It was forever 1969 in that house, even though we hadn’t moved there until the 1980s. Two large framed photographs of me and my brother were center stage on the mantle above the unused fireplace.
“No, I’m fine,” I said. “I mean, I’m not fine, but I don’t need a smoothie.”
“What’s happened?” Richard eyes grew wide with alarm. “It’s not your brother—”
“Mahilan is fine. At least as far as I know. I’m here because of something that’s happened to me.” I paused and concentrated on forming words that were difficult to say out loud, especially to my father. “I’m in trouble. Can I stay here for a few days?”
“Are you hiding from the police?”
My father was definitely smarter than he sometimes seemed.
“It was a misunderstanding,” I said, averting my eyes.
Richard put his hands to his temples. “Didn’t I always teach you and your brother the dangers of getting mixed up in drugs that aren’t marijuana?”
I looked up at him, dumbfounded. “You think I’m on drugs?”
“Why else would the police be after you? They don’t care about pot. No, no, it’s all right. I won’t judge you. Just be hone
st with me about how serious it is. Is it cocaine? Please tell me it’s not heroin.”
“Richard—”
“Do you need to go into rehab? At a first offense, they usually give you that option. I know some good places.”
“Richard! I am not on drugs.”
A knock on the door sounded. “Richard Jones?”
“I know that knock,” my father whispered to me, his eyes darting around the room.
“Berkeley Police,” the voice continued.
I closed my eyes as the full weight of my actions sank in. Why had I listened to Sanjay and thought they wouldn’t find me here? Of course the police would have other means of finding my relatives besides looking in the Yellow Pages. I groaned. Everything was happening so quickly that I didn’t have time to think.
“Use the back door,” my father whispered in my ear. “There’s a hole in the fence that leads to the back alley. Mick used it when they came for him. If the cop’s partner is out front, they won’t see you go out that way.”
My stoned father gave me a bear hug, then pushed me out the back door.
Chapter 49
San Francisco, April 10, 1906
A storm came out of nowhere, and water from the sky and the sea drenched them, but the storm also provided the extra cover they needed. Anand and the crew succeeded in capturing the ship with the Heart of India.
But the challenge was not yet over. He knew he could not go to the police. Even with his debts, Samuel had a higher social standing than himself, and would be believed. Anand would hide the treasure until he was able to get the Indian authorities to come to his assistance. He had a plan. All his years building and fixing boats had taught him how to alter the appearance of a ship. He could hide the treasure in plain sight.
Pirate Vishnu (A Jaya Jones Treasure Hunt Mystery) Page 22