Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 04 - Strings of Glass (13 page)

P
edestrian
traffic thickened as we approached the market. Young men, thin and lithe,
smiled and hung their arms around each other in groups of three or four. We
reached the top of the street and I looked into the mayhem. The road was
teeming with cows, rickshaws, motorcycles, dogs, anything and everything.
Vehicles moved back and forth through the sea of people, standing out as
islands.  Drawn by stalls filled with kites, masks, hats,
and glass-coated string, people clung to the edges
like leaves pushed out of a stream and onto the shore.

Some of
the kites were just simple colored paper, cocktail napkins for the sky. Others
had geometric designs and tails that promised to flutter in the wind. Some
featured well-known Disney characters and were made from
materials that would stink when burned. “There will be hundreds of
people,” Anita said to me over my shoulder as we maneuvered through the
crowd. “All of these people here, tomorrow will be on their roofs, flying
kites.”

The
tables filled the stalls so that the sellers sat on them along with their
wares. Women in bright saris with bored
expressions on their faces looked out at the crowd; men of all ages smiled at
me. The glass-laced string, bright pink wrapped around
wooden spools, was sold at every stall. What would a kite be without its
weapon?

Standing
next to Anita as she haggled with a merchant, I spied a pile of zip ties in the
corner. I plucked at Anita’s sleeve. She ignored me at first, deep into her
bargaining, but I tugged more persistently. Finally, she turned to me.
“What?”

“Get
some of those zip ties.” She looked where I was pointing and then showed
them to the young man she was negotiating with. He pulled out several and
showed Anita their strength. She looked unimpressed but agreed upon his price
and handed over a small bundle of rupees.

As the
sun began to set the women left and the men’s voices became more boisterous,
their groups larger, and their smiles turned to leers. Anita said that even
though we hadn’t found Kalpesh, we should go.

Before I
could respond, I felt a disturbance in the crowd, a parting of the sea,
and then he was in front of us. I recognized him from the pictures Dan showed
me. In the images he was almost always at an “event” with his nose
tilted down at the camera, a glass held close to his chest. But in person, at
first, he looked like Robin Williams doing an impression of a Maharaja. His
fingers were decorated with gold rings set with cartoon-size
jewels. The scar that ran down the side of his face would have looked fake,
still so fresh after all these years, except that it pulled on the skin of his
right eye, distorting his features ever so slightly.

There
was a pudginess about him that spoke of too much booze and rich food,
but not so little activity that he became truly fat. He probably does a lot of
coke, I thought, like Robin Williams did. And the way he was sweating, even in
the shade of the umbrella that one of his security men held over him, it seemed
not so much from the heat of the waning day but from something inside him.

There
were four bodyguards with him. Three large men and one small. The little man
only reached as high as my neck but his strong compact body, penetrating gaze,
and Bruce Lee haircut made me think he might be the most badass among them. He
and one of the behemoths stepped to Kalpesh’s sides, forming a break in the
crowd, forcing themselves into a menacing semi-circle around us. Within Kalpesh
Shah’s sphere there was no jostling.

“Anita,
my dear, what a pleasure to see you,” he said,
then licked his top lip, sucking off some of the moisture that lingered there.
“My goodness,” Kalpesh continued, raising
a manicured hand to his mouth in a show of shock, “what
happened to your face?” He reached out to touch Anita but she jerked away.
Her lips trembled.

“You
look frightened my dear, is it the crowds? So much can happen in a crowd.”
He looked around at the men streaming past, their eyes gliding over our bodies.
“I understand your fears. Would you like an escort back to your
house?”

When
Anita didn’t answer he rested his  heavy lidded eyes on me and there was
nothing coming out of them. It was like looking into a reflecting pool on a
moonless night. Blackness, with just the breeze playing hints of movement along
the surface.

“You
are quite lovely,” he said to me. His teeth flashed white and slimy.
“Even with those scars on your face.” He rocked back on his heels.
“Tell me, how did you get yours?”

I didn’t
answer him right away, taking another moment to try to find some humanity in
his eyes. A cow meandered by - people, vehicles,
everything pouring around it; the
velvet-clad
boulder of the Ahmedabad street stream. It passed closely, a group of flies
orbiting it. The animal’s tail flicked out and almost
touched Kalpesh’s shoulder, but the little bodyguard held up a hand for it to
pat against instead.

“I
imagine in a similar manner to how you got yours,” I finally answered.

“Ah,
so you know how I got mine?”

“Most
come from the same place.”

He
leaned back and looked further down his nose at me. “Scars on your face
tell a specific story, wouldn’t
you say?” I shrugged, not breaking eye contact.
“Perhaps,” he said smiling, suddenly delighted. “They show that
you are brave, foolish, and still alive.” He swiveled his head to rest his
gaze on Anita. “Until, of course,” he
laughed,
“you’re dead.” He laughed at his own joke, his henchmen joined, their
shoulders shaking up and down rhythmically with his. He was the first to stop
and the rest ended their guffaws instantly.

“Yes,”
I said. “They remind me.”

“Remind
you of what?” he asked, not taking his eyes off
of Anita.

“Of
how unfair the world is.”

“Why
do you want to be reminded of that?” He wrinkled his nose and chuckled,
casting his glance back to me.

“It’s
not that I want to, it’s just what happens when I look at my scars.”

“They
remind you of injustice, unfairness?” He smiled
slickly, oily, slippery. He had not survived this long by being stupid or
clumsy. But he was certainly arrogant. He did not fear anyone. Especially not a
woman.

Standing
in the eddy that his security created I got a taste of the world Shah lived in,
protected and confused. No one ever says no to him, I thought. He is a
creature, created by his circumstances. What would this man be like if he’d
been born into the jungle of the street life that so many Indians live?

Shah
tilted his head, looking at me for a moment. And
then turning to Anita said, “I must be going,
but please, join us this evening.” He turned back to me, “I host a
small party every year at my ancestral home the night before Kite Festival  The
place is a masterpiece, you’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I’m
sure it’s beautiful,” I said.

“The
party is just for family and friends.” He smiled. “But I would be
happy to host any friends of Anita’s. Has she told you of me?” Without
waiting for me to answer he continued.  “No?” he asked,
pitching his voice high and looking back at Anita. “But I seem to occupy
her mind so very much, as she occupies mine.” He played with the words in
his mouth. His jaw was working, circling, biting, crunching;
coked up, I thought, no way around it.

I
couldn’t stand the thought of his sweaty, bloated face pressing into young
flesh. The images that flashed before my eyes filled me with revulsion. The
crowd was suddenly too close, the smells of all those bodies forcing into my
nose. Looking at Anita I could see she was having trouble maintaining her
composure.

“Thank
you so much for the generous offer and the invitation. I’ve been longing to see
inside one of those wonderful old Ahmedabad homes.” I smiled up at
Kalpesh, trying to fill my eyes with wonder and innocence.

He
looked down over puffy cheeks, his head held high, posing a regal angle but he
didn’t look like royalty. I held his gaze, grinning gleefully, as he continued
to scrutinize me. “I just can’t wait,” I said.

He let a
small smile slip onto his lips. “Yes, my dear, it will be a magical
evening. My ancestral home is more magnificent than you can possibly
imagine.”

“I’m
sure,” I said.

And then
he left us there, his security team clearing a path
for him through the crowd.

D
an was
waiting for us when we got back to Anita’s. We barely had time to change before
the party. “I got the cameras,” he said as soon as we walked in.

“Great,
we got the invite,” I said.

Dan
grinned.

“We
better get dressed,” Anita said, hurrying up the stairs. “The party
starts in an hour.”

With
taking Blue out, changing, and the short walk to Kalpesh’s house,
we arrived a half hour late.  Dan wore a suite we’d bought in Mumbai that fit
him nicely and with a fresh shave the man looked down right presentable. My
kurta was a deep red and hemmed with bright orange silk embroidery. Anita had
thought to wear a Sari but I’d convinced her she might want pants so she’d
picked a silk kurta that appeared bright blue in some lights, and lavender in
others.

The
whole alleyway leading to the entrance was strung in bright blue lights, the
color that might surround an evil witch while she burned. The gate to the
garden was propped open and a man waited with a tray of glasses bubbling with champagne.

“Gujurat
is a dry state for some, a very wet one for others,” Anita whispered to me
as I took a glass with a nod and a thank you.

“I
don’t know if you should drink that,” Dan said. “It might be drugged.
Remember the choir.”

I
sniffed the glass and looked around at the crowd milling in the front
courtyard. Glowing in the candlelight they looked beautiful. A woman in a
night-blue sari woven with silver paisleys and gold trim laughed a soft
tinkling sound. A tall man with short cropped hair and round glasses smiled at
her.

They all
looked so elegant, draped the way they were around the courtyard, under the
bougainvillea that topped the boundary wall. On the veranda, men laughed and
women tittered. Thrumming techno that did not match the scene blasted from a
nearby building.

“They
love this music but I tell you, I can’t stand it,” Kalpesh Shah said,
gesturing to the sky and all those not at his party, as he approached us.
“You found drinks, wonderful. Please come in, come in.”

I
gestured to Dan. “This is my boyfriend, Dan, I hope you don’t mind that I
brought him.”

Kalpesh
smiled and let his eyes slowly wander up and down Dan’s body. He looked like he
appreciated the way Dan’s suite fit just as much as I did. “Not at all,”
Kalpesh said. “Please,” he smiled. “You’re all welcome.”

 We
stepped further into the compound and up the steps into the house. A row of
stone,
squatting Buddhas held candles that flickered in the overhead fan’s breeze.
“Are you hungry?” Kalpesh asked. He waved at a waiter cruising by
with a tray of samosas. The young man changed course and offered the hors
d’oeuvre to the master of the house.

Among
the elegantly dressed, I spied Kalpesh’s security,
mostly large men in black suits that fit them perfectly. If it weren’t for
their watchful eyes and contained manner I wouldn’t have been able to tell them
from the guests. Kalpesh saw my eyes. “I have them made,” he said.

“Excuse
me?”

“The
suits,” he said. “You were admiring the men’s suits. I have them made
for them. It’s important that a suit fits.”

Kalpesh
did not wear a suit himself. A purple kurta of the
finest silk draped over his round belly and ended below his knees. Shah reached
out and took a samosa off the tray; he bit
into it and surveyed the room, perhaps looking for someone more important or
interesting to talk to. His jaw was working the samosa like it was saw dust. He
sucked down some of his champagne. The young man looked at me but I waved off
the fried treats. Kalpesh had a way of making everything look unappetizing.

But the
house was indeed gorgeous. The pillars holding up the ancient building were
carved with intricate patterns. Antique furniture filled the space and well-groomed
guests, in turn, filled the furniture. Shah beckoned me on through another
doorway and into an interior courtyard.

Craning
his neck to look up to the dark sky he said,
“Are you looking forward to your first Kite Festival?”

“I
am,” I said. The courtyard was filled with people smoking and laughing.
The bar was set into one corner and a large man bellowed from next to it, his
face turning red with hilarity. “Isn’t it dangerous?” I asked.

Shah
lowered his gaze and smiled at me. “Yes,” he said. “It is very
dangerous.”

A woman
stumbled and fell into Kalpesh. He bounced into me and I felt his bulk. Bile
rose in my throat as I quickly moved away from him, knocking into Anita. Dan’s
hand came out and squeezed my elbow. I caught his eye and he smiled at me,
silently telling me to relax. That everything was cool.

After
apologizing for bumping into us, the woman grabbed
Kalpesh’s arm and dragged him away into the crowd. Anita moved deeper into the
house with Dan and I following her. She dropped her empty glass onto a waiter’s
tray as he passed. Moving to the bar she got in line, then ordered a gin and
tonic.

I still
had plenty of champagne, but Dan got a beer. We stood
off to the side sipping our drinks and surveying the crowd. We were not the
only Westerners there. I saw a woman with red hair and pale white skin who
looked doped up and boneless ,flopping around on a couch with a man twenty
years her senior by her side, ignoring her. I saw a young man, probably not
even eighteen,
holding a whiskey and talking with Shah. The boy recoiled slightly when Kalpesh
reached out and stroked his cheek but he didn’t run away.

“Bloody
good to see another of my kind here,” a large man said,
slapping Dan on the back. He was British, big, red-faced,
and guessing from the way his eyes rolled in their sockets, five
to seven
drinks ahead of us. Dan didn’t know how to respond but that worked fine for
this guy. “You ever see this kind of a thing before?” he asked, then
answered,
“It’s my first time at a shindig of this caliber, over here at least. Just
got here three days ago and already I’m dining at the Shah’s.” He laughed
loudly and slapped Dan again, who rocked forward a little from the blow.
“You here on business?” he asked, and
then answered, “I’m a salesman, medical stuff mostly.
The doctor
I’m working with over at the hospital,” he
gestured off to the side - I’m not sure if he meant to be
pointing at the doctor or the hospital but either way a little of his drink
spilled over the edge of his glass and splattered onto the floor without him
noticing
- “he invited me to this and, boy,
am I glad he did.” The man laughed again, rocking back on his heels and
bringing his glass into his belly. “And here I was thinking that I
wouldn’t be able to get a drink over here.”

I
reached my hand into my pocket and felt the small cameras there. Each of us
carried three, with instructions to put them someplace smart. Dan leapt out of
the way right as the big guy went to slap him again. The Brit hardly noticed
and just kept talking. Anita took my arm and said,
“We’re going to the ladies’ room.”

Dan
looked at us like an abandoned puppy, while his captor kept up his steady
stream of nonsense. Anita guided me through the crowd further into the house.
We left the courtyard and entered a smaller room where several men sat huddled
together, cigar smoke swirling around them, talking in hushed voices.

“Deals
are always being made,” she said, once
we’d passed
them. There was a small line at the bathroom and we waited in silence with two
other women who both had their heads bent over their phones.

When it
was Anita’s turn she pulled me into the small space with her. “Where do
you think we should put the cameras?” she whispered.

“One
on the steps leading up to the roof so that we can see how much security is
going up and down, one on or near the front door so we can see who comes and
goes, one in the alley.” I bit my lip thinking. “It’s a shame we
can’t get into the rest of the house, but he’s got men on every exit.”

Anita
nodded. “Yes, I think the children will be held in one of the other
buildings but we won’t know until we find them.”

The
man’s property spanned blocks and he had buildings all over the city. What if
he was keeping them somewhere else? Taking a deep breath,
I calmed my worries.

“I’ll
go and plant the one on the steps and the one by the front door,” Anita
said. “We can do the alley on our way out. You and Dan can go exploring,
looking for more spots. If anyone questions you, Dan can
pretend like he was trying to get you alone.”

“Sounds
good,” I said.

I found
Dan right where I’d left him. His eyes lit up when he spotted me moving through
the crowd. Anita veered off and began chatting with a group on one of the
couches. I took Dan’s arm and said to the Brit,
“I’ve got to steal him away for a moment.”

The big
man smiled and nodded, but didn’t break his
commentary, he just turned and started laying it on the unsuspecting guy next
to him. “Thank you,” Dan said. “I didn’t know you could be bored
while infiltrating a madman’s lair, but it turns out the British are still coming
up with new forms of torture.”

“Want
to go find a place to make out?” I asked.

Dan
laughed. “What?”

I
steered him toward the steps to the upper levels of the courtyard.
“Anita’s idea,” I said. “Make like we’re real hot for each other
and try to get into the rest of the house.”

“Yes,
Captain,” he said.

I
slapped him playfully on the arm before pushing him in front of me to climb the
steps. Another flight continued up onto the roof and one of Kalpesh’s well-
groomed bodyguards waited at the bottom. “Not tonight,” he said,
as Dan opened his mouth. “Tomorrow. Come back tomorrow and you can go on
the roof.”

Dan
smiled. “Sure.” He stepped closer to the man. They were about the
same height but Dan’s shoulders were not as broad, his forehead not so short,
and his eyes not so hard. Dan cleared his throat. “I’m looking for a
private place.” He tilted his head toward me. “Some place
quiet.”

The
man’s eyes flicked to me for a second and then went back to Dan. “Not on
the roof.”

“Fair
enough,” Dan said, stepping back. “We’ll just
take a stroll then.”

The
guard didn’t answer and we moved around the railing. It was a fifteen foot drop
to the bar and crowd below. I saw Kalpesh talking a mile a minute to a group of
young men who all nodded their heads in eager approval of the older man’s
words. Another couple passed us with eyes only for
each other, the man’s arm slung across the woman’s narrow shoulders. Dan
wrapped his arm around my waist and rested his hand on my hip bone, pulling me
close to him.

We
circled the upstairs and then turned to head back. There were doors along our
walk and I tried the first one. It was unlocked and led to another bathroom.
“Someone should tell the ladies downstairs about this one,” I said.

Dan
tried the next door and finding it locked, moved on. I tracked Kalpesh as he
moved through the crowd beneath us, a young man trailing after him. They
climbed the steps and, reaching our level, turned
toward us. I pulled Dan into a dark corner and he followed me easily, facing
his back to Kalpesh. I peeked around Dan’s shoulder and watched as Kalpesh and
the young man passed the guard and went down the corridor to a door we had not
tried yet. Kalpesh called the guard over and told him to unlock it.

Leaving
the staircase to the roof unattended, the bodyguard pulled out a set of keys
and unlocked the door for them. They went through and the guard did not re-lock
the door before returning to the staircase. The guard’s eyes wandered toward us
and I quickly tilted my face up and kissed Dan. Not one to leave a girl hanging,
Dan reciprocated, making our fake make-out session into a reality. Dan came up
for air and smiled down at me. “How’m I doing?”

“Great,”
I said. “Come with me.”

I took
Dan’s hand and led him over to the door Shah went through. I pressed him
against the wall near it and kissed at his neck. “Try the handle,” I
whispered. “But make sure the guard isn’t looking.” Dan’s hand
wandered from my waist down to my butt. “That’s not the door handle,”
I said.

Dan
pushed off the wall and flipped us, leaning me against it, right next to the
doorjamb. “That guy wasn’t taking his eyes off us with you in the
front,” he said, leaning into my hair, flicking
his tongue at my ear. I felt heat rush to my face and other parts. His hand
left my hip and felt for the knob. “Unlocked, I
think,” Dan said, his voice husky.

Faux
making out felt a lot like the real thing, I
thought,
as Dan’s hand came back to my waist. “How are we going to get through
there?” I said.

“We
have to distract the guy,” Dan said, and
then returned to his duty as ardent lover. I tried to think about that but Dan
was doing a hell of a job distracting me.

I was
about to push him away to try to get the fog out of my mind when a crash from
below startled us. The guard hurried down a couple of steps. Dan started to
head toward the railing to see what happened, but I opened the door behind us
and pulled him in after me.

There
was a long corridor in front of us that ended in a T. We started down the hall
on tiptoes, listening. It didn’t take long to hear the thumping of wood, the
grunting of men, and the small cries of pleasure -
or was that pain? We stopped outside a door that stood slightly ajar. Peering
in I saw Shah’s naked back. Sweat trickled down his spine. The man’s skin
looked blanched, like something
rotten that had been boiled in a failed attempt to make it palatable. I
couldn’t see the young man under him except for a hand that clutched the desk’s
edge. The room was an office. Taking one of the cameras out of my pocket I
curled a finger around the open door and pressed the sticky side onto the jamb.