Pirate Vishnu (A Jaya Jones Treasure Hunt Mystery) (25 page)

Chapter 47

San Francisco, 1906

Because of the size of the Heart of India statue, Anand knew Samuel would have no choice but to take the whole journey by boat, rather than taking a ship bound for New York and switching to a train. The journey by ship would take weeks.

Anand would be ready.

Eddie proved to be the most dedicated of men, doing much more than was necessary to repay his debt to Anand. He secured a ship, enlisted a dozen men from his extended family who were skilled at sea, and swore the men to secrecy.

Eddie’s men listened attentively to Anand’s plan, interrupting to make suggestions but never doubting their involvement.

They were honorable men, Anand hated that they must risk becoming outlaws. Pirates.

Anand knew what he must do to minimize their risk. If anything were to go wrong, he would take the blame himself. Anand was a Pirate now. If he and his men were caught, he would claim he commanded the crew against their will.

He had the perfect name for himself. A name that signified restoring order and balance.

He would be Pirate Vishnu.

The plans of the honorable pirates were coming together perfectly--until they attacked the wrong ship.

The mistake wasn’t the crew’s fault. Anand and Li had pieced together the information as best they could, but it was uncertain what day Samuel’s ship would arrive and similar vessels approached on the same sea route.

Pirate Vishnu and his crew made sure they did not harm any of the men on the ship they attacked. The pirates were seen by the ship’s crew, but escaped without capture. They retreated into the fog and waited.

A few days later, when the ship they sought rolled into the Golden Gate, they were ready.

Chapter 48

“You can’t go home or go to the university,” Sanjay whispered in my ear, pulling me aside while the others rushed out of the loft and down the stairs. “They’ll look for you there.”

“You want me to
run
?” I asked.

“Do you want to be arrested,” Sanjay hissed, “or do you want to be free to figure this out? The police are only going to get in the way right now.”

“I don’t know…”

“Technically you don’t
know
they want to arrest you,” Sanjay said. “So it’s not really like you’re evading them. They just happened to miss you.”

He had a point.

“Where am I supposed to go?” I asked. “The police could pull any credit card transactions.”

Sanjay pulled out his wallet and frowned. “I’ve only got fifty dollars on me. Doesn’t your father live around here? There are enough people named
Jones
that they shouldn’t find you there right away.”

“You’ve met my father. You can’t think he’s the best—”

“You don’t have a lot of options, Jaya. Unless you want to go to jail or hide in the spirit cabinet, I suggest you take the other stairs—”

“There’s another set of stairs?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have told everyone to take the stairs if there wasn’t. I’m sure any second now Naveen will be telling the police where to find you. “There’s no way you should go down the same set of stairs as him. You’ll be taking the service stairs.”

“Naveen,” I muttered in anger before another thought occurred to me. “What was it you found on his phone that he didn’t want anyone to know about?”

“You need to go, Jaya.” Sanjay pulled me into the hallway and led me to a discreet door I never would have noticed, even if I’d been thinking straight.

Right before closing the door behind me, he popped his head into the stairwell and grinned.

“Nothing,” he said.

“What?”

“It was a bluff. I didn’t have time to find anything embarrassing on Naveen’s phone. But everyone has
something
to hide.”

The problem with my father was you never knew what to expect. Richard Jones was a selfless parent, but in his own way. He didn’t live on the same planet as most of us. I knew he would do anything to protect me, but what he thought was good for me might be even more questionable than Tamarind and Sanjay’s “help.”

It had come to this. Running to a home where I’d never felt very much at home. Sanjay was right that it was the best alternative I had. I needed time to regroup and figure out my next steps. 

My father lived in Berkeley, just ten miles away over the Bay Bridge from San Francisco, in a small Craftsman house in what was considered a bad neighborhood. The income of a sitar teacher wasn’t very much, but it was enough to clothe my brother and me in second-hand tie dye clothing, furnish a modest home with bean bags as couches, use incense to cover the smells of what my father and his friends were smoking, and feed us meatless meals. The experience taught me that color is overrated, intoxicants should be imbibed rather than smoked, and meat is the most exquisite food on earth.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs in Sanjay’s building, I saw something that made my heart sink even lower than I thought possible. I didn’t see any police, but my car was being towed. My parking karma had run its course—I had parked too close to a fire hydrant.

I took a deep breath. I didn’t have a car, but I could catch a BART train to Berkeley. The closest stop would drop me off within less than a mile of my dad’s house.

I didn’t have my headphones to listen to music on the ten minute run to the BART station. I had nothing to distract me from thoughts about what I was missing from Uncle Anand’s treasure map, Lane Peters, who flashed in and out of my life, or this trip to see my father. It was probably for the best to be in silence anyway, so I could be on the lookout for the police. How had this become my life?

I was slightly winded as I slid my ticket through the stall at the station. I’d never thought about closed-circuit video cameras before, but now I noticed them everywhere. I wished I’d thought to take a hat from Sanjay’s place. I wrapped my arms around myself and sunk down into a seat in the train headed to Berkeley.

I closed my eyes and wondered if I was doing the right thing. My dad might be stoned out of his mind, blocking out thoughts of my mother and her untimely death, but he’d do what he could to help me. When I stopped growing just under five feet tall, he drove me around in his VW van to every self-defense class in the Berkeley area to make sure I found a way to protect myself. When I graduated early from high school at sixteen, he supported my decision not to go straight to college. He also didn’t pressure me when I turned eighteen, which led to me not starting college until I was in my twenties.

My father’s house sat at the corner of two residential streets. As I approached the house from the smaller side street, I saw a movement through the window. It was my father walking through the room, his gray-blond hair long in a ponytail resting on his back over a white linen shirt. I took a deep breath and knocked.

“Hi Richard,” I said as he opened the door.

My father blinked at me in astonishment. He looked much the same as the last time I’d seen him six months ago. I think he was wearing the same flowing white shirt over white linen trousers with orange Birkenstocks on his feet.

“Did you tell me you were coming?” He blinked again. I detected a faint whiff of sweet smoke coming from inside the house. Now that I looked more carefully, I saw that his eyes were mildly bloodshot.

“Can I come in?” I asked. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s kind of important.”

“Of course! Would you like an acai smoothie?” My father put his arm around me and pulled me into the living room where bean bags lined two walls. It was forever 1969 in that house, even though we hadn’t moved there until the 1980s. Two large framed photographs of me and my brother were center stage on the mantle above the unused fireplace.

“No, I’m fine,” I said. “I mean, I’m not fine, but I don’t need a smoothie.”

“What’s happened?” Richard eyes grew wide with alarm. “It’s not your brother—”

“Mahilan is fine. At least as far as I know. I’m here because of something that’s happened to me.” I paused and concentrated on forming words that were difficult to say out loud, especially to my father. “I’m in trouble. Can I stay here for a few days?”

“Are you hiding from the police?”

My father was definitely smarter than he sometimes seemed.

“It was a misunderstanding,” I said, averting my eyes.

Richard put his hands to his temples. “Didn’t I always teach you and your brother the dangers of getting mixed up in drugs that aren’t marijuana?”

I looked up at him, dumbfounded. “You think I’m on
drugs
?”

“Why else would the police be after you? They don’t care about pot. No, no, it’s all right. I won’t judge you. Just be honest with me about how serious it is. Is it cocaine? Please tell me it’s not heroin.”

“Richard—”

“Do you need to go into rehab? At a first offense, they usually give you that option. I know some good places.”

“Richard! I am
not
on drugs.”

A knock on the door sounded. “Richard Jones?”

“I know that knock,” my father whispered to me, his eyes darting around the room.

“Berkeley Police,” the voice continued.

I closed my eyes as the full weight of my actions sank in. Why had I listened to Sanjay and thought they wouldn’t find me here? Of course the police would have other means of finding my relatives besides looking in the Yellow Pages. I groaned. Everything was happening so quickly that I didn’t have time to think.

“Use the back door,” my father whispered in my ear. “There’s a hole in the fence that leads to the back alley. Mick used it when they came for him. If the cop’s partner is out front, they won’t see you go out that way.”

My stoned father gave me a bear hug, then pushed me out the back door.

Chapter 49

San Francisco, April 10, 1906

A storm came out of nowhere, and water from the sky and the sea drenched them, but the storm also provided the extra cover they needed. Anand and the crew succeeded in capturing the ship with the Heart of India.

But the challenge was not yet over. He knew he could not go to the police. Even with his debts, Samuel had a higher social standing than himself, and would be believed. Anand would hide the treasure until he was able to get the Indian authorities to come to his assistance. He had a plan. All his years building and fixing boats had taught him how to alter the appearance of a ship. He could hide the treasure in plain sight.

With a little paint and a new figurehead on the front of the captured boat, the vessel would not be recognized. The crew helped him accomplish the disguise within a day. The riskier part of the plan was where he would need to leave the ship. The safe ports would need to make note of it, and Anand could not take the risk. He left the boat anchored near the rocky cliffs of the northwest coast of San Francisco. It was not ideal, but he would not need to leave it for long.

Samuel met Anand at The Siren’s Anchor the day following Anand’s recapture of the stolen treasure.

Samuel’s beard was unshaven, his hair wild. His body, once muscular, was now gaunt. He looked as if he had not slept.

“You have ruined me, Anand.”

“You have ruined yourself.”

“Mrs. Lancaster invested in the expedition to win her prize. She expects a return on her investment. I must have that statue back.”

“She cannot possibly think she can display it.”

“Not publicly.”

“Then what is the point?”

“You think you are worldly, but you have much to learn about people.”

“That statue belongs in India,” Anand said.

Samuel pulled two whiskys toward them that Faye had set down on the bar.

“It is only a piece of carved rock and a pearl, Anand. You and I know it holds no mystical significance.”

“It is meaningful to people, which makes it significant. It brought together men across caste and geography. We are fighting for independence from the British and from unjust maharajas. As you well know from what I have confided in you, the Heart of India pearl is a symbol of freedom, purity, and identity. And the elephant is its protector. Though it is not mystical, it has more meaning than you realize.”

Samuel shook his head. “You will not reconsider?”

“And let a selfish woman with money she never earned herself keep a toy she does not understand?”

“If that is your decision,” Samuel said, “let us forget about our current troubles, at least for one last night.”

“I will drink with you one last time.”

“To old times,” Samuel said. They raised their glasses and drank.

“I wish it did not have to end like this,” Anand said.

“So do I,” Samuel said. His eyes filled with tears. “I have poisoned your drink.”

Chapter 50

I woke up with a stomach ache. It probably wasn’t the best idea to eat the last tacos at a taco truck right before it shut down for the night.

I had slept at a hotel, hoping the police weren’t desperate enough to find me to pull my credit card transaction records.

Taking a look at myself in the bad light of the hotel bathroom mirror, I hardly recognized myself. Why had I let Sanjay convince me to run from the police? He was the one who’d had the oh-so-brilliant idea that Tamarind was a killer who had mugged and drugged me, when in reality all Tamarind had done was be a good research librarian and friend, and all that had happened after coffee with her was that my travel exhaustion had kicked in. Though Sanjay was unquestionably a skilled illusionist and performer, his deductive skills left much to be desired.

What was I doing? Did I really think I could solve the mystery and clear my name before they found me?

As soon as the university library opened, I slipped into a study carrel. Tamarind hadn’t yet arrived for her shift at the research help desk. At ten a.m. I peeked into the main section and saw Tamarind. She spotted me as I walked up to her.

“This time,” she said, her purple-eye-shadowed eyes growing wide, “I’m
getting
someone to cover for me.”

She whisked me away to a back room in the library away from prying eyes, the metal hoops on her black cargo pants clanging into each other as we walked hastily through the library.

“I need you to help me look some things up,” I said as she plopped me down on a backroom couch.

“Pigs still after you?” Tamarind asked.

“Probably.”

“You’re on the lam?”

“Hopefully not for long,” I said. “I’m trying to figure out who’s after the treasure and is framing me.”

“Nobody is framing you,” a deep voice said from behind us.

I turned and saw Inspector Valdez. They say palms sweat when you’re nervous. At that moment,
all
of me started to sweat.

“You continue to be a difficult woman to find.”

“Were you looking for me?” I asked. My voice may have come out in a squeak.

The inspector held up a familiar bag in his hand. “I thought you might want this.”

I was still sweating, but now a little less.
That’s
why he’d been looking for me? I could have killed Sanjay and Nadia. It was their overactive imaginations that had convinced me Inspector Valdez wanted to arrest me.

“You found Jaya’s bag!” Tamarind said.

“And,” Valdez said, “we arrested the person who stole it.”

“Shut. Up.” Tamarind stared at the inspector.

He gave her a funny look.

“This is Tamarind,” I told him. “She’s a librarian here. An enthusiastic librarian.”

He gave her a brief nod before turning back to me and handing me my messenger bag. I took it and found my laptop inside.

I was beyond happy to have my laptop back. There weren’t many things I could be happy about right then, so I’d take what I could find. Naveen Krishnan wouldn’t be the only one with an impressive academic publication coming out soon.

“Who stole it?” I asked.

“Connor Healy.”

“Steven’s
son
?”

“He hasn’t confessed yet, but we’ve arrested him.”

“For his father’s murder as well?” 

“I was trying to find you last night to tell you,” he said. “But we kept missing you. You should really get a new phone.”

“Guess you don’t have to solve the crime to keep the police from arresting you,” Tamarind said once the inspector had left.

“It’s strange that it’s Connor,” I said. “It makes sense, but it feels…
odd somehow.”