Authors: Shakuntala Banaji
Conscious of her thumping heart, Tanya stood up as Adam came towards them. She stretched out her hand and grasped his in a tight clasp, stopping his progress with the weight behind her handshake.
'Adam, I'm Tanya Hàrélal. Detective – from New Delhi. Sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier.' Adam withdrew his hand from her grasp, looking bemused. Tanya's tone was authoritative, curt. 'Take a seat and tell me your story. I can see that things aren't what they seem.' Adam sank down sullenly onto the couch next to Sara. Tanya stood opposite them, clutching her bag.
'Haven't we been through all this? Do you know where I've just come from, Sara? Thanks to you, I might add!' He looked askance at his friend.
'Me? Where've you been … I thought …' Sara couldn't meet his eyes.
'What'd you think? I'd been picked up at a party? Eh? Trust old Adam to get himself laid in Goa!' He paused, waiting for her to reply. She looked terrible, white and ill. ‘Spent the night in a damn Indian lock-up, Sara, with two fucking cops crawling up my arse. When I could’ve been on the beach. Does that make you feel better?’ He turned to Tanya, 'Cause this wee girlie here told them she thought ….' He stopped. His eyes were bloodshot and he was breathing fast; Tanya realised that he was scared.
She began to get a strange sensation in her head – a buzzing, like the noise of hungry flies. What the hell was going on? Perhaps she was wasting her time here. If the Goan police had released Adam then that either meant he had a great lawyer or that they had nothing on him. She doubted that he’d have had the chance to find himself counsel in a foreign country and without Sinbari’s influence to aid him. So the police must have let him go. In which case Sara's anxieties were unfounded and Adam had nothing to do with their friend's death – or Sara was in greater danger than she knew.
Today, Tanya knew, her father was to meet with the Italian tycoon. It was vital that Tanya got on that plane back to Delhi at eleven. But she couldn’t leave Sara alone without making sure….
'Adam!' He jumped slightly.
'Do yourself a favour and explain what happened when you went to Saahitaal. Sara hasn't said anything about you, so don't worry. Come now. I know you lied in your statement to us in Delhi. I think I understand why. Now will you talk?' She hiccuped slightly as she spoke, swallowing acid, and touched her stomach in admonition.
'What kind of a detective are you? Where’s your badge?' Adam bit his lower lip and frowned at her. Tanya stared him down, then removed her fake identification from her bag and flashed it at him. Finally he muttered, 'Okay, okay, look I'll deal. I’ll tell you my 'side' of the story and you get out of our room and leave me and Sara to get on with our lives. I’m sick to death of you people.'
'Deal.'
'And don't come back.'
'That’ll depend.' Tanya took a breath and seated herself again.
'I flew out 'cause Cameron
invited
me. Said he’d a special place to show me that would blow my mind. Wrote me this grand rambling letter from the hills and I wasn’t certain when I got it what he was up to, but it involved a lot of dosh and – our future. Money – Tanya, that’s what it was about. See, he and I planned to buy this grand old mansion back up where we came from. We were going to do it up and live there.'
Sara squawked. He ignored her and continued.
'I'd known Cameron since we were kids. We went to the same boarding school – he was older than me and I thought he was God's gift back then because he got in on a scholarship and was sweet as hell to all us wee boys. I guess some of that feeling was still there so I'd forgive him for playing around on me at university but I told him that he had to make up his mind. And he said he had – he’d decided how he wanted to live his life. He'd tell me if and when I came out to India!
Should've known, fool that I am
.' He put his head in his hands and remained silent for a moment. Tanya watched the two young people in front of her and thought of Karmel's initial report on them: two bedraggled and terrified foreigners … What a lot of trouble they had caused with all their deception. If only they had been able to come clean when they were in Delhi – her father wouldn't have been in such trouble and Karmel would have been around when she needed him. Adam's voice interrupted her musings.
'We spoke on the phone in February; he was in Delhi waiting for some permit, raving about Antonio Sinbari and his new job. That convinced me, I guess. I decided to quit my job. In April I booked my ticket and when I told Sara, guess what – '
'What?'
' – she said
she was going to Delhi too
! Aye, that was a shock. For me at least. I don’t know about her.’
‘Didn’t you ask her? Make some plans? You were friends after all.’
‘We didn't chat much at the time; she was busy at the hospital. So was I and we didn't even see each other in Delhi though I was there for three weeks and I knew when she was to arrive. I guess … I kind've wanted some time by myself. She was planning on climbing to the lake by herself and I was a wee bit anxious about her 'cause I'd found it pretty rough. I told Cameron that and he didn't seem bothered – said
let her take her time
.’ Tanya glanced at Sara to see what effect this account of her fiancé’s evident duplicity would have on her but her face was averted. Adam paused and then continued, ‘He'd told us both a route to take but I didn't take it … and neither did Sara, as it turned out. We both came up the quick and steep way, gave him less time to finish up his plans.'
'How was Cameron when you got to Saahitaal? How was he acting? Was he pleased to see you?'
'He was fucking fabulous. He had the villagers kissin’ his arse. A bunch of women; acting like they couldn't do enough for him. It wasn’t exactly what I'd been expecting . . .. We hardly had an hour alone together for the first two days. He went out those first nights and didn't show up till dawn. Then he was all moody and quiet. I was shattered so all I did was sleep.'
'How long did that go on?'
'A fair while. We did have three good days – he took me around to the lake and on long walks and we talked about the home he was going to design back home. Like old times. I'd missed him a lot. I'd had a job offer at Aberdeen University and I talked it over with him.'
'You two were still lovers?' Tanya imagined her mother's disapproval, her father's disgust. How old-fashioned they were. Maybe she'd have turned out like them if she'd never met Kailash. Something about Cameron’s lifestyle appealed to her.
'What d'you think? Eh?' Adam’s snarl didn’t worry her.
'Yes, then.' Tanya glanced at Sara, who was staring at Adam with bitterness scribbled across her face, her lips pressed together against tears.
'Um. If it's any business of yours. I'd been there a week when he announced that he had some work to do for a few days and I should come along with him. I said I'd visit a nearby town,
Bookta?
– and get some provisions.' Adam stopped. He seemed calmer.
'You and Cameron never talked about his impending wedding to Sara? He never mentioned that he was engaged?'
'I already told you –
No and No!
Do you think I'd have taken it quietly if he had? Two-timing bastards!' He grimaced and then dashed his hand against his eyes. Sara’s whole body was shaking, her foot beating an unsteady rhythm against the carpet.
Tanya was implacable. 'What would you have done if he'd told you about his engagement, Adam? I'd like to know.'
'Yes, Adam, tell miss, she'd
like to know
.' He mimicked her, picking fiercely at the skin beside his fingernails as he spoke. 'Course I'd've fucking talked him out of it! He'd never make it to his first anniversary with a
woman
.' Sara looked as if she was about to disagree, but Tanya held up a hand for her to be quiet.
'So why were you rushing when Sara met you? What got you so panicked?'
'I'm coming to that.' Adam got up. He walked across the room to the French doors and Tanya wondered if he was going to make a run for it, knowing that she would be no match for his speed. But he came back a moment later with a lighted cigarette in his hand.
'Look, whatever-your-name-is detective, I was a
total stranger
in that village. I hadn't a clue what was going on or what Cameron's real work was and he didn't bother to fill me in. I couldn’t understand a single thing when he spoke to those villagers.'
'He spoke
their language
?' Tanya was astonished.
'I guess. He was a
genius
, wasn’t he, always had been.' Adam’s voice was sullen.
'Sorry Adam, please go on.'
'We set out together that day.’
‘When was that, exactly?’
‘Probably the end of June. It was a lovely old morning, cool, fantastic visibility, no mist. He was kidding around, trying to push me off the path, and I was relaxed too. I was going to Bookta for food, as I already told you, and he said he was off to Maloondi; he had some sketching to do there for this BIG secret project he was involved in. We'd walked for maybe ten minutes when some woman stumbled out of the trees and intercepted us.
‘What was she like? An Indian woman?’
‘Oh for God’s sake, yes, an Indian woman, a villager, complete with headscarf and big frilly skirts. She started talking to Cameron all funny, clutching his arm, I think she was trying to embrace him – ack! – they kept talking and talking. I was pissed off.’
‘Because she tried to embrace him?’
‘Not exactly. You've got to understand – everyone in the village except the kids ignored me. It was like they saw me but didn’t see me . . .. But they were all over Cameron. “Sahib this and sahib that”! This was supposed to be a holiday, just the two of us. So when this woman came I told Cameron to sort his fucking problems out, and I’d go on ahead. I assumed he’d follow me.' Adam wouldn’t meet her eyes. If Cameron had been as insensitive as she guessed, perhaps Adam had been aggravated one time too many; perhaps he’d witnessed a kiss, or something even more graphic, that drove him beyond forbearance. Alone in the forest, he’d have had ample opportunity to kill his friend. And jealousy was a powerful motive.
He licked his lips slowly, a gesture Tanya found particularly repugnant. Strangely it was her revulsion that forced her to give him the benefit of the doubt, at least until he had finished his tale.
'I'd started off into the trees, gone maybe a hundred yards down when … I heard raised voices, and a fucking crazy long-drawn out howl; I turned back.'
'Cameron's voice?'
He shook his head. 'A woman, I'd have said.'
Tanya and Sara listened, transfixed with dread, as Adam described what had happened. He let his ash fall to the carpet as he spoke and Sara moved further and further from him. Finally she started to cry, staring at him in horror. When he finished, Tanya was convinced that he'd told the truth and her heart writhed inside her as she tried to persuade him to go back to the police of his own free will.
It was unkind to leave Sara alone with him but if she wanted to help her father, she had just under an hour to check herself onto the New Delhi flight.
It was only once she was on the plane, with her feet up and a magazine on her lap, that she allowed herself to wonder if she was doing the right thing in trying to handle it all herself. Perhaps she should have taken the story straight to Mazumdar and Ribera, the two competent officers who had taken Sara’s statement in Goa. It made her sick to think of Kailash Karmel, all alone up there in the mountains with a decaying corpse and a village full of frowning, tight-lipped women, amongst whom some were, without a doubt, accessories to a brutal murder.
There was no air left in the world. Thahéra tried to open her eyes to see what was stopping the air but something was covering her lids. It couldn't be blood because she knew the feel of her own blood and this was more viscous, almost sweet. So, she had vomited. Now her mouth would not open properly. She felt as if she would drift away. With her left foot she could feel something large and lumpy. Underneath her, the floor seemed to change shape, to move and tremble like melting snow. She rolled with it and, with some last vestige of strength, angled herself from her stomach to her side. Though the world was still dark, she was able at least to take in oxygen.
She knew where she was but she imagined she was a small child again, wrapped in a cloth and carried by her sister up a hill, feeling the branches and leaves tickle her face. It wasn't a pleasant sensation. Childhood had not been a pleasant time. Her mind wandered and she felt nauseous. There was a terrible smell in the room but she wasn't sure if it was real or in her mind. It reminded her of the seared cowshed. It reminded her of her fragile, sparrow-like mother.
She felt herself choking and struggled to sit up; but the effort required was too great.
Often when human beings are compared to animals, the intention is to demean, to debase or to insult. The comparison which Thahéra made between her mother and a timid bird was simply accurate: the woman had been too nervous to breathe; too petrified to eat or speak or play with her children. From the time that Thahéra could understand a word, her mother had whispered fear and caution. There had been no question in their home of winners and losers, of arguments, or fights or happiness. Thahéra's mother died when she was twenty-nine; she was found at the bottom of a mountain, neck broken. She left a fourteen-year-old and an eight-year-old behind her and a husband whose temper was legendary.
Everybody knew that she had jumped and who had driven her to it.
The fire dated from before their mother's death. It had started one afternoon in a corner of their cowshed. Brands from their stove had been shoved between the rafters and against the piles of fodder in a corner.
No one had stopped her.
He
was away; their mother was asleep; she didn't know then that her sister had followed her and was watching everything.
The animals bellowed and stamped, her sister shrieked and moaned, but Thahéra heard nothing; all she could think about as she watched the flames was the smell – burning hide and hair and straw. People appeared whom she had never seen before and they doused the fire and they dragged the carcasses out and freed the living animals. There was silent compulsive activity: stones were brought and dung and plinths; neighbours stood in a chain and rebuilt the shed. Within two days it looked as it had before. There was only one calf missing; a similar one was brought from a neighbour's herd.
Afterwards no one asked
her
about it, even though she wanted to tell them. When
he
returned, weeks later, she saw that he knew the difference and was biding his time, looking around with his mean eyes, just fixing on someone to blame.
Until Thahéra told him she'd done it.
It was the only time she'd ever seen him at a loss. He dragged her along to the shed, his fingers biting into her shoulders; he stared at it and everyone came out of their homes to stare too until he turned and they all went back inside and he snorted and threw her onto the ground. Then he went inside to check his stock and when he came out he was smiling. It was something so rare and unusual that she was amazed and couldn't stop looking at his face. She couldn't remember much after that, except the pain; there was plenty of that.
Some loud noise roused her from her torpor. With the utmost effort she pried her eyelids apart, gagging for breath, wincing against the pain throbbing through her cheeks. She couldn't focus her eyes, let alone move a limb, and all she could discern were the feet of a person standing over her. She curled into herself, preparing for another blow. Don't let it be
him
, she thought, before she lost consciousness.