Pirate Vishnu (A Jaya Jones Treasure Hunt Mystery) (22 page)

“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 Samuel 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.

PART III: THE BARBARY COAST

Chapter 41

San Francisco’s neighborhoods had changed since the days in which Anand lived here, but they had maintained unique personalities. Sanjay lived in a 2,000-square-foot loft in SOMA, the South of Market neighborhood of San Francisco. Previously a less desirable part of town, the original dot-com boom led to lots of development in the area. Overpaid young men became the largest segment of the new population. Sanjay fit in wonderfully.

Sanjay and I caught a cab from SFO to his loft. I told him I was eager to see the spirit cabinet. The truth was I didn’t want to be alone. I had no idea what was happening around me, or who I could trust. Sanjay was one person I knew I could count on.

A slip of paper was taped to Sanjay’s door. I cringed as he pulled it off, thinking of the booby trap. But this note was what it appeared to be. A shipping slip, notifying him that his delivery had been dropped off in the basement of the building. Paying thousands of dollars a month in rent does buy many perks—such as a secured delivery location for all of Sanjay’s illusions, and a freight elevator to easily move things into his loft.

I rooted through Sanjay’s fridge while waiting for him and the building’s super to retrieve the crate. The interior of his fridge was the opposite of mine. A selection of cheeses and fruits, two loaves of bread, several half-eaten packages of takeout. A full shelf was packed with artisan beers and champagne. The door was stuffed with condiments, but none of them were the least bit spicy. I grabbed the bag of rye bread and a wedge of strong cheese, and made do with a honey-mustard spread since there was nothing with more zing. The cheese was flavorful enough to make up for it. I’d been on far too many international flights lately, so before tucking into my sandwich I fixed myself a cup of strong coffee with Sanjay’s espresso maker.

There was plenty to distract me while I waited for Sanjay to return from the basement. The loft was effectively two stories—one sweeping first floor and a second floor covering half of the giant loft. There was a railing but no wall so you could see down to the first floor from the second.

The main first floor consisted of an open kitchen that overlooked the open dining and living rooms, and one wall that divided the space for a studio/workroom and another bathroom. The entire north wall was made of windows that provided a view of both downtown and the bay.

Along the wall that divided the first floor, a series of posters of famous magicians from the 1800s and early 1900s hung in faux-vintage frames. Though the frames were replicas, the posters themselves were originals of some of the greats: Kellar, Thurston, Robert-Houdin. Brightly colored red devils whispered in the ears of the magicians, and white ghostly figures swirled around the edges of bold black backgrounds. Matching the macabre style of the posters, two plaster gargoyles clung high on the wall above.

I brought my sandwich and coffee to the secretary desk in the entryway and used Sanjay’s computer to email Tamarind, Naveen, and Nadia to invite them to the séance, as Sanjay had requested.

The double doors of the entryway swung open. An eight-foot-tall crate stood in the hallway. With a wheeled rack underneath, it came within a few inches of the top of the doorway.

“You were right,” Sanjay said. “It’ll fit.”

The two men pushed the crate into the loft and slipped it off of the wheels. Sanjay thanked the building super, then disappeared into his studio. He emerged less than a minute later with a crowbar. He grinned at me as he pried open the wooden crate. I polished off my food and joined him to view the contents.

Modern workmanship wasn’t what it used to be. The furniture in my apartment was mostly from Ikea, with a few items that were hand-me-downs from my brother. But the construction of this cabinet was truly something from another time. The wood was more solid than any piece of furniture I’d ever owned. Beyond its solid stature, the thick dark redwood was hand-carved with intricate swirls of fire. The fire design began in large sweeps on the bottom of the cabinet, getting smaller with the tendrils of smoke and fire winding around each other toward the top.

I shivered at the sight.

“Exactly,” Sanjay said, standing back and crossing his arms. “It does create its intended effect.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Check it out,” Sanjay said with a grin, popping open a tiny hidden slot inside. “Just like the store said.”

“What
is
that?” I asked.

“Just one of many secrets. This one is the slot that held dried animal blood, released with a string, to make it look like something had happened to the person inside. You can still see the residue.”

“That’s gross,” I said, stifling a yawn.  

“Go home, Jaya. Get some rest.”

“You’re kicking me out?”

“I should get to work on the cabinet. I need to be ready for tomorrow night.” Sanjay put his hands on my shoulders. “I know you don’t believe me about Tamarind, but please trust me on this. Don’t take any chances being alone with her right now. And don’t open any strange packages.”

“But—”

“Out.”