Different Senses (81 page)

“
Why would he help you
then?”

“
For Javen’s sake, of
course. I told him nothing of the plan, and he’s unaware Javen’s
missing. Captain, has he been found?”

“
No report yet. That’s a big
river, and the population sparse. Now we know, we can search, but I
can’t offer much hope.”

“
Damn it. This is your
fault!”

Oh, nice touch,
Shardul.
“He knew the risks,
Sri Shardul.”

“
Did he know someone was
going to betray him? Did you tell him he might drown? Did
you?”

“
Calm yourself. This isn’t
going to help.”

“
My friend is dead, and it’s
your fault. Do I care if this helps? It’s too late!”

The rest of the
conversation was Shardul raging, the captain flailing helplessly in
the face of his anger, and finally telling him that he needed to
maintain secrecy at all costs.
“I want to speak to his father,”
Shardul agreed, apparently bringing himself under
control.
“He deserves the
truth.”

“
Not until I’ve briefed him.
You can speak to him tomorrow, on condition you mention no names or
specifics.”

“
Very well. When this is
over, there will be a reckoning. You can’t kill the governor’s son
without penalty.”

“
I didn’t
kill him,”
the captain snapped.
“There appears to have been a leak
somewhere, and I intend to find out where. But your role in this is
over. Stay down, keep your mouth shut, and report to me immediately
if either Sanjeev or Sri Ythen contact you. And do not involve
anyone else, especially Sri Nel. We can make things very unpleasant
for you.”

“
You already have,
captain.”

The captain ordered the
driver to take Shardul home, and I heard someone, presumably the
captain, leave the auto. The sound cut off, and the next thing on
the recording was Shardul speaking.
“Javen? I think he accepted my version of events. If I’m
arrested in the night, I’ll know otherwise.”

He hadn’t been, I guessed, or
his cousin would have said. The other file on the stick was a scan
of the sketch he’d made. He must have asked the doc to send it
along.

I leaned back and thought about
what to do. Or more specifically, what I could ask other people to
do, since the captain would be watching Kirin now, and Shardul.

I recorded a message for
Shardul. I needed him to ask Madan to dig up everything he could
about Dandak/Darshan and his chums—employment history, criminal
records, anything we could access without having to cross the
security force’s tripwires. Shardul was right. We needed local
contacts, so I asked him to get in touch with Jyoti and do what
they could to find out about Darshan and what he’d been up to in
the area. He was way too clued up for someone new to this. Where
had he come from, and who was propping up his operation?

I thought about my friendly
rural cop and decided to keep him on hold for now. I wanted to see
how far we got with our enquiries before dragging someone else into
this.

Shardul’s cousin came back an
hour or so later. “Thanks for the information. Can you pass this
back to him?”

She pocketed the datastick.
“Yes, sir. Sri Nel wanted me to let you know I come here twice a
week.”

“Great, that’s helpful.”

“And Shardul wanted me to let
you know that Sri Nel’s gardener, his grocery delivery driver and
his local postal worker are all his cousins too.”

I grinned. “Of course they are.
Close-knit family, are you?”

“Yes, indeed. Sri Nel has a
blue statuette in his living room. If that’s in the front window,
then....”

“I can expect a family
visit?”

“Yes, sir. If you put the
orange vase in the window, we’ll know to stay away.”

“Simple and effective. A good
plan.”

“It was Shardul’s idea, sir. Is
there any other message for him?”

“Only that I’m glad he’s still
out and about, and to wish him good hunting.”

“I’ll pass it on. Good day to
you, sir.”

Families did have their
uses.

The information from Shardul
made me itchy to get out and help. Until I knew who’d done what,
and who’d betrayed us, I didn’t dare show my face—or our hand. What
happened after that, no one could know. I suspected it would be
messy.

Chapter 11

I severely underestimated how
effective Shardul’s network of contacts—or ‘family’—would be.
Within a day, we’d confirmed the identity of the three suspected
terrorists, and the surprising fact that all of them were mining
industry employees. All had completely clean criminal records, and
not the slightest indication from official sources they were
capable of the kind of acts that had turned Hegal into a city of
fear. But the official sources were just the start. Bank records?
No problem, thanks to a ‘cousin’ with access. Local residents
reported on vehicle movements, known associates, suspicious
purchases and deliveries, which all helped to build a complex,
thorough picture of Darshan Vaanika Kabir and what he and his
friends were up to. What we found was surprising, but to my Dad, it
was worse. A betrayal of the vilest kind. As if he hadn’t had
enough bad news this year.

I was a spare wheel in the
process, waiting for the regular drop offs and messages, receiving
the data along with Shardul’s precise, dry assessments and sending
encouragement and the rare, unnecessary suggestion. Madan, under
the impression he was working solely to assist Shardul—and glad to
do so—had directed the Nihani efforts, suggesting lines of enquiry
and tying the threads together. Invariably, Team Nihan was ahead of
me.

Kirin and I did what we could.
Again, it was other people who did the really clever stuff, with
one of Kirin’s Nihani technicians, Badal, set the task of
extracting the audio recordings from my implants. Kirin secreted me
out of the house twice so Badal could take readings and assess the
damage Darshan’s nasty little device had done. By the end of the
week, Badal announced he’d written the translation code and was
ready to do the data extraction, so once again Kirin snuck me out
under blankets in the back of his auto down to the lab. I’d hoped
Jyoti would be there, as she had the first time we’d done this.
Kirin said he’d thought it too risky to do it again. He did have a
surprise for me, though, and grinned as I discovered it waiting for
me.

“Shardul!” As always, his
presence, the sheer force of his personality, struck me like the
first time. Not so nastily, though.

He came over and hugged me,
uncaring who was watching. “Are you well? You look worse.”

“Just the bruising. I’m fine.
Even the headache’s better.”

He touched my cheek in an
intimate, possessive way that made me ache with need of him. “And
this?”

“Healing, but it’s a mess. Time
to tidy it up later.”

He grunted, but his warm
fingers lingered. Kirin cleared his throat unnecessarily loudly. I
turned to look at him. “Yes?”

“We should hurry. Someone might
become suspicious, and Badal is breaking curfew.”

“Of course. Sorry, Badal. Let’s
do it.”

The process took less than ten
minutes, and Badal confirmed that the data was good, up to the
point where the electronics had been fried. Kirin sent Badal home
then, because no one except Shardul and Kirin knew my true
identity, and we didn’t want any of our Nihani friends implicated
more than they were already.

“Essential evidence of
Darshan’s intentions,” Shardul said as we listened to the recording
of the ill-fated conversation at the farm. “I think we’re ready to
move, Javen.”

“Now we need my father. I have
to make it impossible for Captain Largosen to have this
information—or anyone of us—disappear.”

“You still don’t know who the
mole is,” Kirin said.

“No, but I think we know who
he’s working for. Either the captain is crooked, or he’s not. If
he’s not, Dad can protect him while he finds out the truth. If he’s
dirty, Dad can protect us. Kirin, I should move out. No need for
you to be implicated.”

He swallowed, but the line of
his mouth set firm. “No. Damn it, no. My family won’t be crossed.
I’m a protector, not a protectee. You need me.”

I patted his arm. “Down, boy.
You convinced me. Okay—are we waiting for anything else?”

“Only to make copies of this,”
Shardul said, flicking the datastick holding the audio recording,
“and to arrange a meeting with your father in a secure location.
The residence, for preference, in a room swept for bugs, and with
recording facilities under our control.”

“Kirin, can you contact Dad?
You should be there, with me, Shardul, Mum, and maybe even the
residence’s security manager. He’s good people, ex-force.”

“Will do. I can copy this
recording at home. We should leave.”

“Agreed. Shardul, you’d better
go first.”

He came closer and took my
hands. “Are you ready for this?”

“Sanity, yes. I’m sick of being
useless.”

“You aren’t.” He squeezed my
hands and stared into my eyes. “I’ll welcome your real face
back.”

“That could take some time.
Bugs you that much?”

“I’m fond of your previous
features. These remind me of...what I don’t remember with
fondness.”

“Understood. Yes, we’re
coming.” I added as Kirin coughed for the third time.

Shardul raised an eyebrow at
the unsubtle hint, but let my hands go. “See you soon.”

I dared to kiss his cheek. “Be
safe.”

“And you.” He walked away and
disappeared around a corner.

“You two are disgustingly cute,
you realise.”

I made a rude gesture at my
annoying friend. “Thanks for inviting him.”

“You’re welcome. I thought you
were probably going a little stir-crazy in the house.”

“I was. You’ll call Dad
tomorrow?”

He looked at his watch. “Yes.
And then all hell breaks loose.”

He was a lot less confident
than he sounded. I took his hand as Shardul had mine, and gripped
his fingers. “A good life is worth a few risks.”

“I’m a coward, Javen.”

“No, you’re not. Neither of you
are.”

“Neither of...sorry?”

“Never mind. Let’s get out of
here.”

~~~~~~~~

Two days later, I was in my
mother’s office at the residence, hiding behind the same pretty
screen I’d used once before for discreet observation. Out front my
parents sat with Kirin and Shardul, waiting for the captain.
Lieutenant Damen would record every word, and if Captain Largosen
tried anything funny, the recording would make its way to the
media. Mum and Dad were worried, and I didn’t blame them. The
stakes were high, and the players dangerous and used to
winning.

A knock at the door. “Okay,
everyone. Take your cues from me,” Dad said quietly. “Shardul,
please cough or clear your throat if you want to take charge of the
conversation.”

“Yes, sir, I will.”

Dad called the visitor in.
“Good morning, Captain Largosen. Do please take a seat.”

“Thank you, sir. I must say I
was surprised at your summons.” I sensed apprehension and no small
amount of irritation.

“I’m sure. You can probably
guess it has something to do with my son’s disappearance. In fact,
Sri Shardul has been conducting enquiries and uncovered some very
interesting information concerning the men responsible for what
happened to Javen.”

The irritation increased
sharply. “Sri Shardul was explicitly asked to do no such thing, and
in particular, not to discuss this situation with you, or indeed,
Sri Nel.”

“Maybe, but I outrank you,” Dad
said, “and he’s acting directly under my orders and protection.
Dandak and the other two men who met with Javen and Shardul have
been identified—”

“Why wasn’t I told, governor?”
Oh yeah, Largosen was cranky. Not detecting any fear or duplicity.
So far, he didn’t perceive any personal threat from this news.

“Please don’t interrupt,
captain. They have been identified, and it appears they are
working, officially at least, for someone we are very familiar
with. Kaushik Denge.”

“I see. That’s not illegal or
even suspicious, sir.”

“Yes, I know. But the leader of
these three men has had some rather large sums deposited into his
personal account from another which Sri Shardul’s investigations
have identified as belonging to a company owned by Denge. Sums
deposited at some rather interesting points. You might like to
examine this.”

I presumed Dad was
showing the captain the correlation in timing between those
payments and the attacks on Denge’s estate, in Hegal, and other
terrorist actions, including the assassination attempt on the
minister. Tellingly, one very large payment had been made on the
day of the ill-fated demonstration in Hegal town centre. “Sri
Shardul has also received information that Dandak has received
deliveries from suppliers of mining explosives, and executives very
close to Denge himself.”

Now the captain was really
confused. “Assuming this information is accurate, what possible
benefit would Sri Denge gain from promoting or arranging terrorist
activity, sir?”

“Well now, that’s something I
have a few ideas about. But here’s our problem, captain. I can’t
trust you. Someone in your service told Dandak about my son and in
enough detail that they had to have known exactly what the plan
entailed. Someone in your service is in the pay of Denge or those
he works for. That’s why you have been given only the smallest
information now, and not before. So we’re at an impasse. I need
your help to catch the men who hurt my son, and you need my help to
find them.”