The PuppetMaster (35 page)

His only concern was that his employers might decide he was a risk, a liability to be dealt with. That would not be good, because he knew how difficult it was to conceal onesself from some of the most powerful, best-financed people in the world.

I’m still a chameleon, though, and the best at what I do. Take for example how I ripped apart a city with the simple press of two cell phone buttons.

Fifty-Six

The chaos of the previous night had settled like a passing thunderstorm outside the walls of my villa.

Inside, Uli and I lay curled like spoons, the sounds of breath and heart composing our sonata of love. I remembered dreamily that it had rained in the wee hours. The breeze was cooler, and for long moments I let all my senses open to the woman in my arms. I smelled her fragrance, tasted her shoulder, felt the warmth of her thighs, and gazed at her auric beauty, and asked again, how could I be so fortunate?

With a soft moan she rolled over, eyes still closed, hair drawn in soft curtains across one cheek. My hand slipped across her stomach and around to the small of her back. Her smile lengthened, one eye fluttered open, then closed contentedly again. “Hello, Lover,” she whispered. I pulled her flat against me and kissed her neck and the underside of her chin down to the top of her breast. She moaned softly, and at that splendid moment I remembered two things that I wish my memory hadn’t been so willing to recall. A pink note was summoning me to be somewhere in two hours, and I wasn’t positive, but I thought I had told Mej I would play Frisbee with him that morning.

“Uli?” Her hips wiggled against me. “Uli?”

“Do I have to open my eyes to answer?”

“Not really, no. You can keep them closed, but I believe I have to get up.”

“Like get up, go to the bathroom and come back to bed, get up?” Her accent was thicker when she wasn’t fully awake.

“Er, no. Like get up, brew some coffee, and cancel a Frisbee game with Mej. Not that I believe he’s actually going to show up after the events of last night . . . but he can be pretty committed when it comes to these things.”

“Oh.” Disappointment. “Well, you do need to keep those legs in shape, but you cannot go if it is dangerous. My orders. Go make us a cup and I’ll be right there.”

Throwing back the sheet and setting my feet on the floor was the last thing I really wanted to do.

I set two cups of hot coffee, warm nan, butter and marmalade on the table, and turned as she stepped into the kitchen. Her hair was pulled back by a cobalt hair band that matched her eyes. I assumed it came from another one of those pockets in her handbag. She had one of my white kurtas on, and the same purple skirt from the day before. It was torn at the hem, and smelled of smoke.

I didn’t wait for my sip of coffee, I pulled her close, kissed her, and said, “Listen, I want to promise you that it’s going to be safe now and that it will all settle down. But I can’t. To be truthful, I’m worried. There are too many ugly things happening right now, and I don’t have answers.” I paused and took a breath. “So, what do you think about going up to Nepal for a couple of weeks, maybe a month, that is unless…” The thought had come to me in the blackness of the night before as we avoided a gang of thugs. It was simple thought. I didn’t want to lose her to anything. “Unless, you think you want to fly home with Jitka. I don’t want you to, but I also don’t want you to stay here just for…”

I didn’t get to finish. While still holding herself flat against my body, she sucker-punched my middle just hard enough to hurt.

“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say it, Bhim. Never. I’m not going anywhere. Not to Denmark, not to Paris, or the moon without you. I’m here, right where I want to be und where I’m going to stay.” She looked hurt and angry, and that was a first.

Taking another breath and rubbing my abdominals, I whispered, “I had to ask, Uli. It’s gotten too crazy and dangerous, and I don’t want you hurt. I just thought it might be good to give you the option.”

“Well, I don’t want the option.” She rubbed my stomach and then brought both of her hands to the sides of my face. “I am home, Bhim, inside these arms, and I don’t want to be more than this far away from you ever. Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll make you an agreement. I’ll never ask that question again, and you let me know next time you feel like punching me in the stomach. Sound like something we can agree to?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? That’s not particularly fair.”

“I’m reserving my woman’s right to punch you whenever your eyes wonder too far from mine.”

“Umm, then I guess I’d better tell you where we’re going this morning, and who you are going to meet.”

Her hands slid around my back. “Let me guess, the beauty from Haroon’s?”

I nibbled her ear, felt her quiver, “You are so amazingly clairvoyant. Adam will be there also.”

She beamed. “He is okay, unhurt?”

“I don’t know that, but he’s alive. A message came through Sahr last night. We’re meeting them at Professor Chandragupta’s house inside the university.”

“One of the pundits you worked with, yes?”

At that moment Sahr walked through the back door with Meghaduta chattering happily on her shoulder. The kitchen melted instantly into a noisy exchange of squawks, good mornings, and kisses.

It took about three seconds before I started becoming jealous of the parrot. Uli stroked its head and wings, cooed over it, and gave it all the attention I had just been receiving. I did have to admit he was cute—little green suit with a flashing red waistcoat. Noble features, too. He chirped and hopped about the counters while Sahr added to my trifling attempt at breakfast.

“I have three readings today, Bhimaji,” she announced as fritters and pakoras settled onto the table. “I thought to postpone them, but with all the uncertainty of last night, my clients want more certainty in their future.”

“Not a problem. Uli and I will be gone most of the day anyway and won’t be back until the afternoon. What have you heard of the city? Has it quieted?”

“The gossipers say it has, but you should go carefully. So, how many should I count for dinner?”

“Three, I suppose. Plan for that.”

Jitka came in, freshly showered, and showing a long purple bruise on her jaw. I pulled out a chair for her. “Sahr’s very traditional Indian breakfast is designed to chase away all memories of sneaking through an Indian city in the dark.”

She gave a small shudder. “Ach, what a night. I woke up thinking it must have been a dream.”

“It was a dream, a bad one, but these are guaranteed to help.” I pushed spicy pakoras and yogurt cucumber sauce in her direction.

Sahr explained all of Meghaduta’s clairevoyant talents while the sisters ate. With the parrot hopping across all the counters, and everyone comfortable, I went to the courtyard.

The morning sky was clear, the air washed clean of smoke by the rains during the night. Lalji, looking as if he hadn’t slept, squatted on his heels outside the gate with two of my three erstwhile guards. I was pleased to see them. I needed information.

“No, Sahib, this bad business has stopped,” the shorter one replied to my question.

“So you think it is safe to move about then? Even for a ferenghi.”

The taller one wagged his head assuredly. “Indeed, Sahib. This town lives on tourists and dying people. The tourists spend more money, so the police and district bosses have plenty of patrols out. They want every foreigner who spends rupees to feel safe doing that. There is even talk of the army sending soldiers to make sure there is no more trouble.” That was exactly what I needed to hear.

I handed out two hundred rupees each and the same for their missing friend. They saluted me and sauntered off. I had the comforting feeling that my house would remain under watchful eyes in days to come.

Lalji and I went back to the courtyard, where I unwrapped his grimy bandage. Coconut oil, soot, and an inexplicable sticky goo wound away like a kite tail. “It’s still a bit swollen, but I think you can manage without the tape now.” I patted his shoulder. “Lalji, I have a small errand for you, and then I think it might be good for you to take the day off afterwards.” He started to protest, and I began to wonder if he had hit his head on something during the night. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Sahib, I am well. I just want to be sure our house is safe.”

I took his palm and placed a week’s wages and a folded paper inside it. “I want you to go to the cantonment and purchase three tickets. Here is the route. First class all the way. Then I want you to get cleaned up, get a fresh shirt and a new loongi, and I want you to go to Ramuna, the tailor’s daughter, and tell her that you would like to take her to the cinema this afternoon. Ask her nicely and have the film picked out before you get to her door. Tell her you wish to buy her lunch at Vikandi’s ice cream café afterwards. And Lalji,”

“Yes, Sahib?” He looked like he was going to cry.

“Bring her carnations from the shop on the corner. The small ones that smell like cinnamon.”

As I reached the top step of the veranda, a Frisbee struck me on my hamstring. “Bugger me twice, must be getting old. Didn’t miss like that when I was twenty. ‘angovers are a foockin’ bitch.”

I spun with a grin as he approached the gate “Hello, Mejanand. You are out of practice.”

“Shite, I wouldn’t be so bloody off if you’d get your arse out ‘ere.” His thumb hooked towards the fields.

“Seriously? You still want to play after last night? I mean, I’d understand if you wanted to miss it.” I hoped he would.

He cleared the steps in one leap and popped the Frisbee with his toe, sending it like a flipped coin back into his hand. “No way, Bhimster. Got to stay sharp. Both of us do, Mate. Bunch of foocking loonies aren’t keeping me from the dance. I’m up for busting a right good sweat this morning. What do you say?”

In many ways, a good run was just what I needed. Clear away the leavings of the night.

Mej glanced beyond my shoulder toward the salon, assuming, I guessed, that I was going invite him in for coffee. I wasn’t. Too many questions in there. “Okay, Sir Whiton. Three minutes. Keep the discs spinning and I’ll be right out.”

Sahr and Jitka were still in the kitchen getting acquainted in a new common language, food. Cookbooks and spice jars were spread out across the table. Sahr was pointing to a page and enthusiastically stirring and mixing invisible ingredients with her hands. A culinary project was brewing, and I was told that no one would need me or miss me for an hour. After her readings, Sahr would take Jitka to the market with her.

Uli, however, wasn’t letting me off so easily.

“This is something you love to do, ya?”

“Actually, yes. It’s kind of a passion with me.”

“Then I’m coming with you. I want to learn all the things you are passionate about.” I started to object and she sort of growled and made the cutest little fist. “Woman’s right, Mein Schatzki.”

“Right, got it. Then, if I may suggest, let’s get a thick blanket. The ground is a little bumpy. And you might want to wear my sunglasses. It gets bright on the river.”

“I have my own, thank you very much.”

I thought of asking how many compartments were actually in her magical handbag, but went to slip on my scruffy tennies instead.

As I was lacing up, I remembered the envelope Haroon had handed me as we were leaving the bar the night before. I tore it open and the two pages quickly told me that Imperial Holding International was a ghost. There were records of tax filings for the past two years, corporate officers listed, annual P and L statements, and all of it under another name, Maharashtra Mining. And Mahrashtra Mining was held by a foreign holding company Titan World Ore. It was a shell game, all legal, all in order, and with absolutely no substantial information at all.

Moments later Uli and I stepped into the pale morning light. Pastels and oyster-shell blushed the east, and cooler drafts than I had felt in months kissed our cheeks. The back of my hand touched hers, and suddenly, I was elated to be alive. It felt perfect to be doing something so simple. Walking with this woman to the river to throw a Frisbee with a companion. It was an odd, but totally correct action in a world gone crazy. I looked at her and her smile told me that she understood.

Mej immediately began with an obnoxious fawning that irritated me considerably. “Whoa, knock me down. Uliana with the sapphire eyes is joining us boys?” His thumb flipped my way. “Not that Bhimer ‘ere is such a ‘orrible date, but you are ‘elluva lot cuter to catch the sunrise with. You don’t happen to play Frisbee do you?”

Uli reacted with the same coolness as two days ago. “No, Mejanand. I just came to watch.” The sunglasses masked the frost in her eyes that I knew was there.

The three of us strolled toward the river as rose and magenta dissolved in the east. The mood was strained. At least for me. Uli clearly found Mej’s extroverted manner abrasive, but I sensed there was something deeper. A mistrust of sorts. She tolerated his humor with a tight smile and responded to his questions with curt monosyllables. I let it all go in anticipation of a good run, and as we approached the flat brownness of the marigold grounds, I sprinted ahead.

True, spontaneous exercise has the favorable quality of keeping the mind keenly focused. There is no ruminating, no weighing decisions, no politics or question of faith. It just is. The players are suspended in the moment, wrapped in the clarity of seeking perfect motion, which convinces me that Zen Buddhists would have loved Freestyle Frisbee. The disc arrived at the precise moment I turned. Without contemplation, I tapped it ten feet straight up and let it settle onto my index finger for a clean three seconds of spin before I flipped it back. Pure Zen.