Vanished (21 page)

For a moment
, no one said anything. Neela stared at Lynne, who was also dressed in a kurta-pajama set, hers a navy blue with multicolored embroidery along the neckline. Her curly hair was tied back, and she wore a bindi. Where had Lynne learned to dress like an Indian? And what was she doing in front of the Chennai Music Palace, thousands of miles away from home?

At last Neela found her voice. “You're here because you want to steal the veena again.” When she spoke, she was surprised by how angry she sounded.

Lynne stood very still. “I know you're mad at me. I'm sorry about what happened. But I don't think you know the whole story.”

Neela crossed her arms. “I know Hal is Veronica Wyvern's father, and he thinks my veena belonged to his daughter. So I kind of feel sorry for him. But you just took advantage of him because he was your neighbor, and he thought he could trust you.”

“That's not true.” Lynne's shoulders gave way, and she seemed suddenly small and frail.

Pavi, who had been listening, spoke up. “Neela, maybe you should hear her side. You know, like why she's here in
India
?”

Lynne pushed up her tortoiseshell glasses. “Um, who are you?”

Pavi tossed her head. “I'm Neela's friend. I know all about the veena mystery.”

“I thought you told me everything you knew,” Neela said to Lynne.

Lynne motioned to the door. “Let's talk inside.”

Neela blocked her way. “Why can't we talk out here? There's plenty of room.” Behind them, Ravi was staring from the car in puzzlement. He signaled to Neela, but she shook her head.

Lynne sighed. “Because it's noisy and dusty out here. I'm not sneaking in and running off with the veena, if that's what you're worried about!”

Neela followed her inside—though, of course, Lynne stealing the veena was exactly what she was worried about. The three girls found themselves inside a small lobby. Neela and Pavi waited while Lynne took a deep breath and began.

“You're right about Hal being Veronica's father,” she said. “Ever since she died, he's been heartbroken. Sometimes he blamed himself because he was the one who found a veena teacher for her, and the veena was what brought her to India, where she died. It doesn't make any sense for him to blame himself, but that's the sort of person he is. And it might be because his wife passed away just a few years after Veronica Wyvern died. So he felt alone in the world without his wife and daughter. Well, almost. But I'm getting to that.

“Anyway, it wasn't until a year ago that someone sent him a newspaper clipping from India about a veena that kept disappearing and reappearing at the Chennai Music Palace. Some people thought it was haunted, some said it once belonged to Veronica Wyvern. When he read that, he flipped. How could the veena be hers when she died in a train wreck
with
her veena?”

“I wondered that, too,” Neela said. “Unless she had some other veena with her that day.”

Lynne shook her head. “No, she only owned one. So Hal got to wondering about this veena. Because the article was also about the woman who owned the veena now, a woman in Chennai.”

“My grandmother,” Neela said. “She said she later reported to the newspaper that she had sold the instrument. But she actually mailed it to me.” Her eyes narrowed. “So how did Hal find that out?”

“The person who sent the article—it was the father of the man married to Veronica, her father-in-law—he met somebody at a concert here who knew your grandmother, and that person told him the veena had been secretly mailed off to her granddaughter in Boston. So when Veronica's father-in-law sent the clipping, he added a note that the veena was really in Boston, owned by a young girl.”

“Where Hal lived,” Neela said.

“Right,” Lynne said. “But Hal had no idea how to find the veena or the girl. Boston's a big place. So he started looking for music recitals—anywhere a student learning the veena might perform. Finally he saw a listing at the temple last summer.”

“My recital,” Neela said. “With the snapping string.” So even Hal had been there. Was there no one who
hadn't
?

“He got your name from the program list. Your mom was one of the volunteers, so her name was on it, too. Then just a quick look through the phone books for a ‘Lakshmi Krishnan,' and he found your family in Arlington. Which, if you think about it, is a strange coincidence, since this whole time he had a granddaughter the same age, and the two of them were living over in just the next town, Somerville.”

Neela instantly thought of her mother's saying:
There are no coincidences
. But then something much bigger struck her. “Granddaughter?” she repeated.

Lynne flushed. “Yeah, granddaughter.”

A look of understanding crossed Neela's face. “You're not Hal's neighbor, are you?”

Lynne shook her head.

“What? What?” Pavi wanted to know. “What are you guys talking about?”

Neela turned to Pavi. “Don't you get it?”

“I'm the granddaughter,” Lynne finished flatly. “And Veronica Wyvern's daughter.”

Neela let out her breath. “I've got to sit down.” She looked around and found no place to sit. “Veronica Wyvern had a child. Of course. Why didn't I think of that?”

“I was a year old when the train wreck happened,” Lynne said. “And I've lived with my grandfather ever since.”

Neela kept shaking her head.

“I wanted to tell you,” Lynne continued. “But my grandfather made me swear to keep quiet. It was all part of his plan to get back the veena from you. I thought it was whacked-out, especially getting me to switch schools so I'd be in the same class with you. He thought if you and I became friends, you'd somehow give the instrument back to us.”

“Why didn't you just ask? Why did your grandfather have to steal my veena?”

“He tried, he really did, but your grandmother said no.”

“My grandmother?” Neela asked, confused.

Lynne nodded. “Ask her; I'm not lying. And stealing was never in the plan. I mean, I never thought my grandfather would do it. I didn't want to switch schools…I liked Somerville. But then I guess I wanted to meet you, too. I wanted to see if you really had the veena. Because, well, you know, maybe it belonged to my mom.” She swallowed.

“Don't you know?” Neela asked, surprised.

Lynne shook her head. “None of our pictures are all that clear, because the dragon part is always facing back, or someone is in the way. I don't remember her veena, of course, and neither does Grandpa. But he's convinced it's the same one because as soon as he saw your veena at your recital, he knew the dragon on it was a wyvern. I guess I want more proof than that, like someone who knew my mom to say, yeah, this is the same veena.”

“Actually, there is someone. His name is Professor Tannenbaum. He knew your mom. He saw the photo in the magazine and recognized it right away.” Neela felt suddenly sad.

Lynne's eyes grew wide. “So…it's hers?”

Neela nodded. The sick feeling that had been with her for days had returned. So now it wasn't just Hal, the long-lost father, but Lynne, the long-lost daughter, too.

Just then, the door to the lobby opened and Ravi appeared, looking cross. “What's going on? I've been waiting, and you haven't even gone inside; you're just standing here, talking, talking. Do you have something to do in the store, or do you just want me fired?”

Neela gulped. “I'm so sorry. We're going in. Please, wait just a few minutes more.”

Ravi glared. “I cannot wait here. I must attend to the car. But be back soon. Time is ticking.” He said the last sentence in English and left the lobby in a huff.

“Hmm, and I thought he didn't know any English,” Neela remarked. She turned to the girls. “According to my watch, we've got about a half hour before Govindar expects us and…Wait a minute. Why are you already here?” she asked Lynne.

“I answered the phone when Govindar called,” Lynne replied. “My grandfather doesn't even know I'm here. And I wanted to get here early because…”

“You wanted to talk to Govindar alone?” Neela finished. She smiled. “I guess great minds think alike.”

“Well, let's go, then,” Pavi said. “Time is ticking.”

With that, the three girls entered the store.

Inside
, instruments hung along the walls, arranged in a semicircle around the showroom. The room was lit overhead with fluorescent bulbs that flickered, making a thin buzzing sound. There was a man at the counter, punching numbers into a calculator and entering them into a logbook. He turned when he heard the door open, but upon seeing three girls, he returned to his work as if they weren't worth his time.

Neela cleared her throat. “Excuse me.”

“One minute, miss.” He continued with his calculator.

Several minutes went by, and Neela began to wonder if he had forgotten them.

“Are you Mr. Govindar?” Pavi asked.

At the sound of the name, the man stopped. “You are looking for him?”

“We're a bit early,” Neela said, “but he asked us to come. Can we talk to him?”

“He is not here, but you may talk to his son.” He disappeared through a door behind him.

“Son?” Neela wondered.

Pavi was looking at a framed news clipping on the wall. “And you'll never guess what his name is,” she said.

Neela and Lynne went to see what she meant. The article was about the Chennai Music Palace and the owners, K.R. Govindar and K.R. Mohan.

“Father and son,” Pavi said. “They own the store.”

“K.R. Mohan!” Neela said. “The expert from the magazine article.”

“But if they're father and son,” Lynne said, “why don't they have the same last name?”

“They do, it's just the order that's reversed,” Pavi explained. “That's how it's done in South India. K.R. are the initials of their surname, and Govindar and Mohan are their first names.”

“I've always found that confusing,” Neela said.

“Mohan,” Lynne said slowly. “You know what, I remember that name. I think he was at the photo shoot.”

“Elizabeth Bones must have brought him along,” Neela said. “I guess that makes sense. Though I'm not sure why you need an expert to take a photo of a veena.”

Before anyone could say more, the door to the back room opened and a young man stepped out. He wore a tan-colored shirt that looked freshly starched and pressed, setting off his thin, delicate face. Behind him, the man they first saw came out, headed for the front door.

“I met you at the concert,” Neela exclaimed. She was about to add,
You're the guy with the ruby ring
, but decided it might be weird to say that to a stranger.

“You were at the photo shoot,” Lynne said next.

Mohan was just as surprised as them. “What are you all doing here?” He peered from one face to another. Neela saw the ruby ring on his finger shine under the fluorescent lights.

“We came to see Mr. Govindar about a veena,” Neela said. She was still trying to wrap her head around what she had just learned. Could this Mohan really be so many people at the same time—the owner, the son, the young man at the concert, and the guy at Lynne's photo shoot?

“Veena?” he asked. He twirled the ruby ring on his finger, as he did that day with Elizabeth Bones. Was it Neela's imagination or was he completely taken off guard?

She was puzzled. Didn't Govindar tell him? “The special veena,” she said, not knowing how else to say it. “I'm Neela Krishnan.”

“
You're
Neela Krishnan?” he said. “And you're with her?” He looked at Lynne, then Pavi. Neela could tell he was utterly confused. But her name had meant something to him. Maybe, like his father, he had seen the name on the package and was now putting two and two together.

“Yes. We're here because he was supposed to give the veena back to…” Neela was about to say “me,” then remembered Lynne. She flushed. “To one of us.”

“Really?” He said the word slowly. An unmistakable look of anger flashed on his face. It was so brief, one could have missed it. But Neela did not. Clearly he knew nothing of his father's plans. And now, with his father not here, he was suddenly faced with three girls, unsure what to do. She glanced at him again, still remembering how quickly he had spotted what was wrong with Professor Tannenbaum's veena, how he said the veena was dying, with complete certainty.

By now, Mohan had recovered. “I'm surprised my father said he could meet with you,” he said, more politely. “Because he isn't here.”

“But I spoke to him this morning,” Neela said, surprised.

“I talked to him, too,” Lynne said. “He was very clear about it being this afternoon.”

There was a silence as they all tried to make sense out of this strange turn of events.

“I'm sure there's a good explanation,” Mohan said. “Maybe you can come back tomorrow? My father will be back and can clear up the confusion.”

“Don't you know anything about his meeting with us?” Neela asked. “He said the veena was back. That is true, isn't it?” A note of doubt crept into her voice.

“The veena,” Mohan said, and smiled sadly. “There are so many veenas, after all.”

“But this isn't just any veena,” Neela said, taken aback.

“Are you saying the veena
isn't
here?” Pavi asked.

He sighed. “Of course it's here. Why would my father lie to you? But I suggest you discuss it with him, not me, since he is the one with whom you arranged the meeting.”

Something began to bother Neela. At first she wasn't sure what it was, but now a question had come to her. “At the photo shoot,” she asked, choosing her words carefully, “didn't you recognize the veena?”

Mohan looked at her. “I don't understand.”

“You were at the photo shoot, weren't you?” she asked.

Mohan glanced at Lynne. “Of course, yes.” He sighed again, as if he had tired of the subject already, even though it had barely been discussed. “And of course I recognized the veena. Elizabeth Bones, the photographer, e-mailed me to request my help on an article she was doing on Indian instruments. I came to verify the veena was made by Guru, who you may or may not know was a veena-maker and—”

“Yes, a Guru original.” Neela tried not to sound impatient. “But why didn't you
say
anything about the veena?”

“What was I to say?” Mohan asked. “Here is the veena that keeps vanishing from everyone who has bought it from our store? Besides, my father told me the veena was in Boston with a young girl. I assumed you were that girl,” he said to Lynne. “I didn't know if it was proper to bring up those details at the time. So I kept quiet, like any well-intending businessman.”

There was another silence now as each of the girls considered what Mohan said.

“And if you will accept my apology, you must come at another time to discuss the rest with my father. I am on my way out.”

Neela felt a wave of panic. She couldn't explain it, but something made her feel that if they left today without the veena, they might not have another chance to get it back. She steeled herself. “Even so, I'd like to take the veena home today,” she said. “With or without your father here.”

“What?” Mohan asked.

“The veena. I would like it back.” She was surprised by how strong her voice sounded.

“As I said, this is something for you to discuss with my father at a later time.”

Neela noticed an almost imperceptible shift in his voice. It wasn't so polite as before. She had nothing else to go on, but hearing that tiny change strengthened her resolve even more. “You have no legal right to that veena. My driver is outside; I'll call him in if I don't get back the veena.”

Lynne caught on. “I have my cell phone and I can call my grandfather.”

“And my uncle is the assistant police commissioner,” Pavi declared.

Neela groaned inwardly. Pavi always carried it too far.

“Before calling anybody,” Mohan said, “let us see if we can get to the bottom of this. First of all, I don't even know if you really are who you say you are without an ID.”

Neela rifled through her backpack. “I brought my passport, and—”

Mohan cut her off. “Second, I do not know what my father's intentions are. So I cannot hand over the veena to you—it is locked in a special room.”

Neela was about to speak, but Mohan cut her off again. “What I can do is show the veena to you, if you want to verify it is here. Would you then go home and wait for my father to call when he's back?”

Neela hesitated. She turned to her friends. “What do you think?”

“We can take a look,” Pavi said. “And decide what to do after that.”

Lynne pushed her glasses up on her face. “I want to see it with my own eyes.”

“As you wish,” Mohan said. He went behind the counter. “Right this way, girls.”

They followed him to the door in the back. He opened it. “There,” he said, pointing.

The girls peered inside. By the wall where Mohan had pointed, a veena stood propped against a stand. A cloth cover had been thrown over it, concealing the peg box and frets.

“How do I know it's the same veena?” Neela asked.

Mohan shrugged. “If you don't trust me, see for yourself. Take off the cover.”

Neela walked carefully to the covered veena, Lynne and Pavi closely behind. She lifted the cover and found a completely different veena with the peg box of a dragon head painted gold. Behind them, the door suddenly closed.

Neela whirled around. “No!” she cried, but it was too late. They heard the sound of a click on the other side. Mohan had locked the door.

“Sit tight,” he called out. “My father will not be coming, since I am notifying him that you girls could not keep your appointment.”

“Wait!” Neela cried out, tugging on the door handle. “You can't lock us up. Maybe we can discuss this.”

“There is nothing to discuss,” Mohan said. “Good-bye, and rest assured that the veena is with its rightful owner.”

“Come back!” Pavi shouted. But they could already hear Mohan's footsteps retreating.

The girls looked at each other in alarm.

Outside they listened to the sound of the front door closing, followed by the jingle of keys. Mohan had left the store and locked them inside.

“What do we do?” Lynne said.

“What about your cell phone?” Pavi asked her.

She shook her head sadly. “It doesn't have any coverage in India. I was just bluffing.”

“I wonder what Ravi will think,” Neela said worriedly. “This is so terrible.”

She glanced at her friends. For the first time since the whole veena mystery had started, she was fresh out of ideas.