Murder in Moonlit Square, page 11
More strange faces. Not curious. Not hostile. Just ordinary. Going about their day. The further she walked, the more pointless it seemed. She turned another corner and saw another sign for a Khan Café. He was right, she thought, trying to recall his name. Rafiq, that was it. There were Khans everywhere. Maybe she should check this one out and give up for the day.
It was only when she got closer that she realised, with sinking heart, that it was the same place she had been before. She was literally going round in circles. Her legs ached. Her feet were sore. She might as well take Rafiq up on his offer of chai before she faced the journey home. She needed something to lift her spirits.
Rafiq was pleased to see her. ‘How was your search?’
She shook her head. ‘It was silly to think I had any chance. I was hoping that somehow, with God’s guidance, I might…’ She petered out and shrugged. ‘But perhaps God is really telling me I need more chai.’
Rather than usher her to a seat, Rafiq stood tapping a finger against his lips, as if assessing her. Then he pointed upwards. ‘You are right. Only God knows. And somehow, He has led you here.’ He glanced over her shoulder to the street, and seemed reassured by what he saw – or did not see. ‘May I show you to a more comfortable seat?’ he asked, then led her to the back of the café.
She followed him behind the counter and round a corner to narrow stairs leading up. They emerged into a family living room above the café. Three surprised faces greeted them. Rafiq sent the teenage girl downstairs to watch the café. Her brother he banished to the floor above to finish his school homework. And to the elderly lady, he bowed and introduced Sister Agatha as a ‘saintly foreign madam in need of respite from the street below.’
Despite her surprise, the hostess observed the rules of hospitality by offering Sister Agatha a seat and chai. She was going to politely refuse, to forestall the washroom becoming a necessity, when Rafiq cleared his throat. So, instead, she bowed her thanks.
Rafiq spoke quickly in a low tone when the lady, who must be his mother, or his grandmother, left the room to boil water.
‘I don’t want anyone to overhear. It’s a delicate subject. The gentleman you seek did come here. He’s family.’
Sister Agatha sat up straighter.
‘The police and intelligence services were here asking about him too, and we told them what we know. Which is very little. We read terrible things about him, but I cannot believe they are true.’
Sister Agatha could sense how painful it was for Rafiq to talk about it.
‘The shame in the idea that Uncle might be a killer, that we are a terror cell in the city… I’ve been trying to play it down for my children, but it is very serious.’
From the kitchen came the sounds of approaching chai. He spoke up more clearly. ‘Oh Sister, Delhi can be a bewildering place for a lady on her own. Please have some chai, and relax until you feel quite yourself again.’
The lady returned with a cup and small plate of Parle-G biscuits, which she placed in front of Sister Agatha.
Rafiq’s face transformed with concern. ‘Oh Mother, madam may need the washroom…’
His mother received the unspoken part of the message and again left the room to confirm that the children had left the family facilities in an appropriate state for a visitor.
Rafiq spoke quickly again. ‘He was already gone when the police came. Not that they took our word for it. They turned everything upside down. But there was nothing to find. Very suspicious, they said.’
It was not just Avtar who would be getting the blame for this whole affair, Sister Agatha realised. ‘How did he know to escape the police?’ she asked.
‘That’s not it.’ Rafiq shook his head, pain etched into his face. ‘He was not running from the police. He was running from us, his family.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Sister Agatha. They seemed such a friendly family.
‘He was chasing a dream,’ said Rafiq. ‘A dream of home. But the reality was too busy, too noisy, too boisterous. Too many children maybe. We are comfortable here, much more comfortable than many. But it is not so peaceful for an old man. I think it was not what he imagined. Or remembered.’
‘Remembered?’
‘That is what I did not tell the police. This is his home – this city, I mean. He was a child here in undivided India. His family fled when partition came. They were terrible times according to the stories. Muslims were not so welcome here in those days…’ and he raised his eyes, as if to acknowledge current political tensions. ‘His family settled in Pakistan. But maybe he never settled. I do not know their situation. We are distant.’
‘And that’s why he came here,’ asked Sister Agatha, ‘to find family?’
‘To find family. To find the Delhi of his childhood, perhaps. But that disappeared a long time ago. As for his home or family in Pakistan, maybe they disappeared too?
‘We tried our best to welcome him. We did not ask how he had managed to return to India, though of course we wondered. We felt he would tell us when he was ready. He knew he could stay with us as long as he wanted. In the morning he went out for a stroll. He liked to feed biscuits to the street dogs. I did not think anything of it. But he never returned. And then the police came.’
‘So where do you think he is?’
Rafiq put one hand on his heart and held out the other in entreaty. ‘Still searching?’
His mother returned. ‘Please, madam.’ She smiled and indicated the route to the washroom. Sister Agatha bowed in thanks and retreated inside. She closed the door and clasped her hands together in prayer. Lord God, You have led me this far, thank You for Your trust. Please give me the wisdom to follow Your guidance and help this man and this family.
She completed her ablutions, and rejoined Rafiq and his mother. She thanked them and assured them she was ready to face the world again.
At the café exit, Rafiq insisted she accept another bottle of cold water, announcing in a loud voice that he hoped madam was recovered from her dizziness and wishing her a safe journey home.
‘It’s really not necessary,’ said Sister Agatha.
‘Please, we are probably under surveillance,’ Rafiq said quietly. ‘I do not want more trouble from the police. You were only a random foreign lady who needed to rest.’
Sister Agatha nodded. ‘Thank you for trusting me.’
Rafiq pointed discreetly upwards, as if to say that they were all now in God’s hands.
CHAPTER 26
The secret agent sat on the bed and considered Avtar’s question: How was his performance?
‘Not bad for a beginner,’ she said. Avtar noticed that the pitch of her voice had lowered a few notches. She was less breathy and suddenly not so young as before. ‘I’m not what you expected, am I?’
‘Ah – no,’ admitted Avtar. ‘I was not expecting someone so… athletic in appearance.’
‘A diplomat, I like that.’ She smiled. ‘Useful skill for a hotelier, no doubt.’
Avtar was again disconcerted. The first smile Nisha had turned on him had been like being lit up by a lighthouse – stunning and powerful enough to knock him off his feet. This new smile was like being pulled closer round an intimate fire, in which the flames were warm, dusky flavours of honey.
‘Between you and me,’ Nisha’s voice dipped another notch. He leant closer into her deep brown eyes. ‘I find that a dramatic entrance sometimes throws people off the scent more effectively than sneaking around. You could call it hiding in plain sight. Everyone can dismiss me as an airheaded tota with more butt than brain. Or write me off as the free-loading niece hoping to climb the corporate ladder with the help of a little nepotism.
‘Either way, nothing for anyone to worry about. I can cope with the resentment and jealousy if it suits my cover. Speaking of which, what have you already told your staff’ – and for a moment she lapsed back into her teenage tone of voice – ‘Uncle-ji?’
Avtar blinked and shook his head to find himself again. ‘Almost nothing. Which is almost everything I know. I did not even know you were my niece until you announced it downstairs. Just that a new member of staff would be placed in the hotel to…’ He stopped. She inclined her head, indicating he should continue. ‘To spy on us.’
Nisha nodded. ‘Yes, to spy on you. Well, not you in particular. All of you. Because this is a national security threat. And I need your full cooperation.’ She waited. ‘Do I have your full cooperation?’
‘Oh, yes. Yes of course. We just want to put all this behind us as quickly as possible.’
‘We are agreed, then. Do I also have your word that you will not divulge my true identity to your staff?’
‘Yes, eh…’
‘Why the hesitation?’
‘I do not know what to call you – apart from beta or niece. I cannot remember what you said was your name. Your cover name, that is.’
‘It’s okay. This is all new to you – as it should be. As your niece, I share your family name. In conversation, as far as you and everyone else is concerned, I’m Nisha. Got that? Nisha.’
He repeated her name aloud.
‘You have not seen me since I was very young – which will account for your stunned expression downstairs. “My, how you have grown, beta?” Isn’t that what uncles say to their nieces?’
Avtar nodded.
‘But do not be tempted to say too much. If anyone asks too many questions, just hint at some past family disagreement you are uncomfortable discussing. Anyone will back off at that point – even your receptionist, who strikes me as someone we may have to worry about.’
‘Oh no, not Aarushi,’ protested Avtar. ‘Please do not suspect her for a moment. I trust her completely.’
Nisha raised an eyebrow. ‘Clearly I was right about her.’
Avtar looked horrified and began to stand. Nisha waved him back into his seat. ‘Don’t worry, I did not mean in connection with my investigation – though no one is above suspicion. I simply meant that she strikes me as unusually perceptive and perhaps unusually protective when it comes to you.’
‘Aarushi? Me?’ Avtar stammered.
Nisha smiled. It was a different smile this time. One of those knowing smiles from a woman who has the measure of a man – perhaps of men in general.
‘Do you hire everyone from the same region?’ she asked. ‘Or even worse – the same village? That’ll make it harder for me to gain people’s confidence.’
‘No. This is Delhi. People come from all over.’
‘But I know how things can work. One person is hired, then they recommend a family member or friend from home, very reliable, et cetera. Suddenly your whole staff comes from a tiny place in Manipur.’
‘Don’t worry. I learned that lesson the hard way,’ said Avtar. ‘If you have to sack one, then everyone walks out. We are a mix here, different places, different religions.’
‘What about your security guard?’ asked Nisha. ‘He’s wearing more medals than a North Korean general. And as for his hairpiece… Let’s just say he looks suspicious. Villainous.’
‘No, no, that’s Mr Gupta. First name Joshil. Very reliable.’
‘He looks more like a Mogambo.’
Avtar put his head in his hands.
‘I will need a pass key for every room. I want to go everywhere and find out everything.’
CHAPTER 27
Sister Agatha walked back through the crowded noisy streets of Chandni Chowk in a daze. Little of her surroundings penetrated the distressing fog in her mind from painful thoughts of an old man searching for home. She imagined him making a last desperate gamble to find family, only for the reality to fall far short of whatever dream he’d been carrying through lonely years.
And now what was left for him? He could hardly go back where he came from. All that lay ahead was life as an outcast, a fugitive. No family. No friends. Nobody looking out for him – except the police and security services. And when they caught him, as surely they would, he’d spend his remaining years in detention while questions of his guilt or innocence were debated. Even if the authorities gave up or he somehow managed to evade them, what were his prospects? A short, hard time on the streets before breathing his last in the gutter.
She felt sure now that the kindly old man feeding the dog at the hotel was indeed the missing pilgrim. She could not believe that he had brutally murdered someone upstairs and then chatted happily with her minutes later. And any calculating terrorist with the cold steel to kill like that would surely not run straight to their nearest relations to hide. It simply did not add up. His innocence cried out to her.
The poor man, she thought, so far from home. Shouldn’t everyone be able to end their days amongst family or friends, wherever home was? She knew that was not possible for many people, especially in hospitals or residential care homes. But even then, family might gather round at the end. Even those who died suddenly, far from home, might have some kind of family, army comrades on the frontline or fellow exiles in distant lands.
What about me? she thought. Isn’t it time for me to think about going home? She’d lived in India for so long, but her official service was complete. Her religious order had not yet issued her an instruction, but as she had retired from her final headship, they would be wondering what to do with her. How long could she linger round school premises trying to make herself useful? She knew it couldn’t last. No new leader wanted the ghost of past glories looking over their shoulder.
She had been well thanked when she had stepped down from running her school. But she knew her continued busyness was a way for her to avoid facing the reality that she was now redundant. No longer needed. So what was keeping her here? She had only two choices, hadn’t she? To choose to go back to Ireland, the place that had made her, back to the people of her blood. Or to wait until the head of her order made the choice for her and told her it was time to leave – which would be an undignified end to a respectable life of service.
Sister Agatha gasped as strong hands gripped her arm and yanked her backwards. The blaring of a horn and rush of a bright red and chrome truck flashing just in front of her face took her breath away. She shivered with shock, hoping her legs would not give way.
‘Madam.’ She heard quiet words close to her ear. ‘All is well. Please sit for a moment. Take some pani.’ The hands held her more gently now, but firmly steered her onto a stool by a fruit cart. She had dropped her water bottle. Another was placed into her hands.
‘Drink, please.’
She obeyed, then looked up at her saviour. A small man. But with a large heart. Elderly. Wiry. And clearly possessed of quite a turn of speed to have pulled her back from danger and out of her reverie. She gave a prayer of thanks, then dipped her head in thanks to her earthly saviour. ‘Shukryah, ji.’
‘It is nothing, madam. You were lost in troubled thoughts, I think. Better to save them for proper consideration over chai. This street corner is too gitch-pitch to look upwards’ – and he lifted an open hand to heaven – ‘or inside.’ He placed his hand on his chest.
Could it be him? she wondered. Of course not. How would he have suddenly conjured up a fruit stall on what had no doubt been his regular pitch for years? She felt cross with herself. This foolishness had to stop before she walked out in front of another truck.
She stood up, legs no longer shaking and bowed again, to her rescuer’s wisdom this time. She crossed the road in the safety of a group of other pedestrians, and couldn’t help smiling to herself. The streets of Delhi were indeed full of harshness and danger, but also populated with good, kind people. She would miss them. She would miss the colour and the smells, and the food and the friendships. To give all this up in exchange for… for what? For home? But aren’t those the things that make a home?
Enough, she told herself. Each day is a gift from God. And this day is what I must focus on. And give thanks for. Tomorrow I’ll share with Avtar the results of my searching. Then we must decide where to go from here.
THURSDAY
CHAPTER 28
Avtar was perplexed. How was he to shake off his human shadow without arousing suspicion? He had already given Nisha a tour of the main areas of the hotel, excepting the roof and the back alley. He clung to the faint hope that he might retain some private boltholes.
It had been exhausting introducing her to everyone, repeating the same lies. Each time she would adopt her naive-youngster-in-the-big-city act, asking how long they’d been working at the hotel, where they came from, what job they did before – an interrogation. But she was so charming, no one seemed to mind. And she had found far more fitting – that is, less tight-fitting – clothing to wear. She looked the part of an enthusiastic intern with high ambitions.
Avtar thought of his role as that of a babysitter – to gently restrain the child from causing trouble, while encouraging her to make friends. The only problem with the latter was that he was afraid to leave her alone with anyone else. Any one of his staff might accidentally say the wrong thing and slip into more trouble than they could ever imagine.
‘No one innocent has anything to worry about,’ she had assured him. He knew that wasn’t true. His hotel was teetering on the brink of ruin even though his staff had done nothing wrong. ‘But they may have seen or heard something they do not realise is important,’ she continued. ‘They could have vital information without even knowing it. I need to extract that information.’
He’d winced. She’d smiled. ‘Draw it out of them, I should have said. I hope it will be painless for everyone. Hopefully they will not even be aware it is happening.’
She was good, he had to admit. If she knew the right questions to ask him, he doubted he’d be able to resist. Which is why he needed to keep her occupied elsewhere. And away from Sister Agatha. And the only person remotely equal to that task was Aarushi. Avtar didn’t want to do it. Aarushi did not deserve it. But he had to.
