Different Senses (36 page)

“Five hundred. I gave Vasu
three hundred and I think he split it with that arsehole. Why do
you need all this?”

“Call it insatiable curiosity.
Okay, that’s it.”

He scrabbled to his feet and
took off. Neither of us tried to stop him. I pulled out my reader.
“Got it all here.” I switched off the recording.

“You can’t tell your father how
it was done without implicating the brothers and this other guard,”
Shardul said.

“Damn, you’re right. But
leaving a dirty guard on duty—”

“I’ll take care of Vasu. You
speak to this Hemandra. And you’ll have to drop a hint to the
security chief to tighten up on the creation of duplicate key
cards. But no more than that, Javen. He told us in good faith.”

“I guess. But we have enough to
catch Veringe now.”

“You can’t confront him without
endangering those boys. He’ll deny everything. I know the
type.”

“Yeah. My only question is
why?”

Shardul walked back out
to the auto, and I followed. “Because it’s classic con artist
behaviour. You establish your
bona fides
by engaging in
legitimate, small deals, so your mark is lulled into a false sense
of security. Then you set up a larger deal, and take them for all
you can. He played your mother like a fool, but he was greedy and
couldn’t resist selling the real bracelet as well as the fake.
That’s why he showed it to your mother the wrong way around. He
wanted to minimise the risk of her recognising it on her friend.
He’ll have chosen your mother precisely because of her position and
the need for discretion. He didn’t count on your parents having a
private investigator in the family.”

“But why retrieve the fake at
all, if Geng’s in on it?”

“The important thing was that
Geng and his partner had to be able to prove the parcel was empty
on arrival. They’d get the purchase price back and a fat settlement
to shut their mouths if they’re lucky, while Veringe pockets the
entire amount your mother paid. He can sell the fake bracelet over
and over if he’s careful, and doesn’t try it in Hegal again. He
must have been working on this for a while. I imagine he’s got
others in that circle in his sights.”

“And my stupid mother will just
let them be taken, which is all they deserve, but it means Veringe
enriches himself at their expense and your people’s.”

“We have to stop him.”

“
Yeah, but unless my
mother brings a complaint, the police won’t do a damn thing. All I
have is the evidence of a druggy
banis
kid, and a lot of
circumstantial stuff.”

“You have to convince your
mother to act.”

“Uh, Shardul, I couldn’t even
make her be nice to a little old lady doing us all a huge
favour.”

He bashed the roof of the auto
with his clenched fist and said something obviously rude in Nihani.
“Mind the metal,” I said.

“We know he’s a thief, a
fraudster, and yet we can’t stop him. What kind of justice is
this?”

“You could do better in your
culture?”

“A man like that would be
driven away as unfit to participate in the community.”

I grinned at him. “Now that’s
an idea.”

“What?”

“Leave it to me. Back to your
office?”

“Javen?”

“Trust me, Shardul.”

“You say that a lot.”

“And I’m still trustworthy,
right?”

He growled. “You are a
very, very irritating person, even for a
chuma
.”

“I know. I do try.”

~~~~~~~~

I let my parents stew for a
couple of days, though I paid Hemandra a visit and extracted a
recorded confession from him. I gave the question of how to handle
the whole burglary and security thing a lot of thought. I didn’t
want to give my father even more reason not to hire indigenous
staff, but at the same time, Hemandra and Vasu were guarding an
important facility and important people. The fact I was related to
the governor didn’t mean his safety wasn’t something of national
interest.

When I was ready, I arranged a
meeting with both my parents, saying I wanted to report on the
break-in. My mother sent a message in reply to my first asking why
she needed to be present, and I told her I wanted her there. I
could wait, I said, until she was free. She sent me a date and time
and no love in her next message. I was officially in the shit with
them.

Nonetheless, I dressed
carefully, prepared a full report as I would for any other client,
and made sure I was a few minutes early for the appointment. They
still kept me waiting for a quarter of an hour past the agreed
time. The politeness of princes didn’t apply to family,
apparently.

They met me in my father’s
office, my mother’s expression chilly, and my father’s hostile.
“Well, Javen?” he barked. “What was so important that you had to
take up both our time?”

“I wanted to present you with
my report, and my bill.”

“Your bill? I assumed you were
doing this out of love,” Mum said.

“I might be but my employees
aren’t, and I have them to support and an office. I’ve charged
slightly less than I would anyone else.”

“How kind,” my father said,
taking the papers with a look of distaste. “You’ve solved the
break-in?”

“Yes.”

“So how was it done?”

“I can’t tell you because I
received the information on a confidential basis. However, I’ve
spoken to Lieutenant Damen and given him what he needs to tighten
up security here, without revealing names.”

“That’s outrageous, Javen! I
demand you tell me who was behind this.”

“Only if you prosecute Timin
Veringe, and only on the basis that the witnesses receive
immunity.”

“I can’t agree to that,” he
said as my mother glared. “I explained why.”

“Then we’re at an impasse.
While Veringe’s on the loose, he’s a security threat. So what I
propose is this. You revoke his visa and send him back to
Kelon.”

“I could do that, I think,” he
said, looking at Mum. “Yes, a good idea. Thank y—”

“I’m not finished. You’re also
going to suppress any appeal from this region against the result of
the current cases in the High Court concerning indigenous
discrimination.”

“Now, wait a—”

“And finally, you’re going to
throw your full and enthusiastic support behind Representative
Gopan’s emergency bill requiring export licenses for all indigenous
artefacts, with control and issuing of those licenses to be handed
over to the Nihan themselves.”

He folded his arms. “Now why
would I do that, Javen?”

“Because if you don’t, a copy
of that report I just gave you will find its way into every media
outlet in Medele. I will, of course, be free to be interviewed and
be able to verify its contents.”

My mother’s face paled. “You’re
blackmailing us?”

“Yes. Once upon a time, Mum, I
could have trusted you to do the right thing. But I don’t know the
two of you any more. I don’t know what you believe in, or what
principles you uphold. So I have to act on mine, and they tell me
that Dad’s in a position to rectify a huge injustice.”

“You wouldn’t do this,” Dad
sneered. “You’d ruin yourself too.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But I’m
deadly serious, and I warn you not to try and bluff your way out.
I’m well past the age when you can intimidate me, and I really
don’t have a damn thing to lose.”

“Only us,” Mum said, her hand
over her heart. I’d hurt her and I regretted that, but I’d taken
that risk deliberately.

“Yes. But that’s up to you.” I
stood. “I shouldn’t have to force you to do this, Dad. One day, I
hope you’ll understand why I did.”

“I think you should leave,
Javen.”

“Then good day, Governor,
Mother.”

I walked out, my knees shaking,
half expecting a guard to tell me to stop so I could be arrested
for treason. I had just committed a serious offence by anyone’s
standards.

But no one shouted at me or
stopped me, and I reached the auto unharmed. I got inside, and
picked up my phone. “Shardul? Can you do lunch today?”

“Javen, this is a bad
time.”

“Please?”

A pause. “Let me rearrange a
couple of things. Pick me up at one. I can’t get free before
then.”

“Thank you.”

My hands trembled. I shoved
them between my legs to still them. Had I just cut myself off from
my parents for good? Yashi would stand by me. He always did. But
supporting me would make things tough for him and his little
family. Was making a point about the indigenous people of this
country really worth that?

Too late now. I drove to the
riverside park and spent an hour sending messages to various people
about various things, and tried not to think about what I’d just
done.

Shardul was outside his office
by the time I arrived. “You look terrible,” he said as I got out of
the auto. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Not for you, anyway.
I just needed to know I don’t suck.”

He raised an eyebrow.
“And you came to
me
for affirmation? You
are
in a bad
way.”

“Shut up and let’s eat.”

At his cousin’s establishment,
I let him order as usual, then he folded his arms. “You want to
tell me?”

“I just blackmailed my father
into supporting Gopan’s bill and not opposing the indigenous court
case result. Oh, and Timin Veringe will be kicked back to
Kelon.”

Shardul blinked.
“You....blackmailed your own father.”

“Yes. I threatened to release
my report into this case to the media if he refused. So, do I
suck?”

“I’m lost for words.”

“Okay.” I sipped some water.
Somehow I expected to feel better than this. “I was trying to make
amends.”

“I thought you were. This is
why I helped you. I wanted to see what you would do.”

“You were testing me. I thought
you trusted me.”

“I do...as much as I do any
Kelon. More than most,” he added. “But I didn’t expect this. Won’t
this destroy your relationship with them?”

“Hope not, but probably
yes.”

I picked up my glass again but
my hand shook and I spilled some water. Shardul took the glass from
me and set it down. “I never expected you to do this. Would never
have asked it.”

“I know. I did it because it
needed doing, not because of anything you pressured me to do.”

He smiled a little. “Damn, and
I was really hoping to go to the Governor’s Ball next year.”

“
I think it’s safe to
say
I
won’t get an invitation again.”

“But you owe me a dance,
Javen.”

“Sorry.”

“Can’t eat your sorrow.”

“What the hell do you want me
to do?” The man at the next table frowned at me. I must have spoken
too loudly.

“I’ll think of something.”
Shardul touched my hand. “Relax. I’m pleased. Shocked, but pleased.
You’ve made a difference. More of a difference than I could have
ever dreamed of.”

“So long as it’s worth it.”

“It is for me, for my people.
You’ve paid a heavy price, though.”

I shrugged. “What kind of
relationship is based on bigotry and denial?”

“A damaged and dangerous one. I
will pray that the Spirit moves them to understand why you needed
to do this.”

“I told them straight, but they
think you’ve turned me to the dark side.”

His lips twitched. “Well, I’m
extremely good at perverting good Kelon boys, as you know.”

“Yeah, but you don’t follow
through,” I said, attempting a leer.

“Not today, Javen.”

The waiter set our food before
us. “Does that imply you might another day?” I asked.

“The interpretation can be
whatever you want.”

But he smiled, and I smiled
back, this time for real. I might have lost my parents’ goodwill,
at least for a while, but I still had a family, and friends, and
Shardul, in the limited way he granted me his company. A man could
count himself lucky to have even one of those three. I knew myself
to be more than lucky.

“Sainted reason, I knew there
was a reason I don’t like crowds and concerts.” I poked my finger
in my ear, though the problem was in my brain and empathy, not the
roar of noise from hundreds of excited people, many of them women
and all apparently determined to talk at once.

“You get used to it,” Jyoti
said. “Try and focus on one of us. Try Shardul. He’s always
calming.” Her smirk and Chandana’s chuckle made her a liar. Shardul
wrinkled his nose in disgust at the exact time I did, which only
made the girls laugh more.

“You talked me into this,” I
said to him.

“You agreed, so stop whining.
Besides, you should be honoured to have tickets for such an event.
They’ve been sold out for three weeks.”

“Thanks, I’d almost forgotten
since the last time you pointed that out oh, ten minutes ago?
You’re a fan boy.”

“I am not,” he said,
straightening up and glaring. “I’m certainly no boy.”

Jyoti glanced at his
crotch, and Chandana went off into peals of giggles. Shardul shared
a look with me as if to say “
Women
.”

“This better be damn good,
that’s all I can say,” I said, wiggling the finger in my ear. The
press of emotions, albeit happy and untroubled, was the worst I’d
yet experienced since my empathy kicked in. I wasn’t one for
concerts or music in concentrated doses, and I hadn’t been to the
theatre in ages. I didn’t think I’d repeat this outing anytime soon
even if the fabulous Tushar was everything he was claimed to
be.

I hadn’t even heard of
Tushar before Jyoti turned up at my office waving free tickets and
babbling excitedly about the new indigenous sensation who even had
the
chuma
begging to hear him sing. Vik hadn’t been interested, but
Prachi had wanted to go, begging me to go with her. I agreed
reluctantly, only to have her come down with a nasty cold. That
left me with a spare ticket to a concert I hadn’t even wanted to go
to, so in the interest of spreading misery around, I offered my
pair to Shardul. Unfortunately, Shardul was
delighted
to have
them—but insisted I go as his companion, because he said I needed
to experience more Nihani culture. So here I was, the po-faced
Kelon with three over-enthusiastic indigenous friends, trying to
get through the evening without booze or mayhem. I didn’t even know
why live concerts existed any more, since the sound was better on a
home system and you could go to the toilet without having to ask
twenty strangers to let you out.