by Sheela Chari
“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.
“This room is like a jail cell,” Pavi announced. “Not even a crummy trick ceiling
.” They seemed to be locked in a storage room for instruments. There were several veenas, a few violins, and a guitar; some inside cases, others on a table to be repaired. There was also a desk with a small shelf over it. But there were no windows, no phone, and no other door that led to a way out.
“I can’t believe Mohan got away with the veena,” Lynne said.
“I don’t understand; was it Mohan all along?” Pavi asked. “How did he get the veena from Lynne? I thought it was mailed to the store.”
“It was,” Neela said. “And Mohan has to be the one who mailed it. Remember, he was in Boston last month. And he was at the photo shoot. When he saw the veena, he stole it and mailed it back to India, only he used my name so it wouldn’t be traced back to him.”
“Why mail it?” Lynne asked.
“Did you notice how big a veena is?” Pavi asked.
Neela nodded. “He couldn’t have carried it on the plane without drawing attention. It’s too huge. But the bigger question is, why Mohan? Why this veena? And what about the curse?”
Pavi sighed. “Neela, you still don’t believe in that curse, do you?”
“The veena did come back to the store,” Neela said.
“But if the curse is true,” Pavi said, “the veena should come back again. In fact, maybe if we wait it out, the veena will be here tomorrow. And maybe it’ll bring me a large Coke.”
Lynne giggled. “The article my grandfather read didn’t mention anything about beverages.”
“Did your mom know about the curse?” Neela asked.
“She had to,” Lynne said. “She was paranoid about losing her instrument. She never explained why, but it was always with her, even when she traveled. My grandfather decided later it was because of the curse. And even though it sounded crazy, that’s why Grandpa called the store a few days ago. Just to see if the curse was true. And sure enough, the veena was back.”
“That’s how I found out the veena was here, too.” Neela stared thoughtfully at Lynne. “And yet, Mohan doesn’t seem to think it will happen. I mean, why lock up a bunch of girls and run off with the veena if he thought it would come back here.…It’s like something is different this time.”
“Yeah, we’re locked up in his store,” Pavi said. “That’s what’s different.”
“Not just that,” Neela said. “It’s clear that Mohan doesn’t believe in the curse.”
“Well, he’s not the only one,” Pavi said. “Look, this conversation is fascinating, but it isn’t helping us get out of here.”
“You’re right,” Neela said. “And we have to find a way to get that veena back. Which means finding Mohan.”
“But he could’ve gone anywhere,” Pavi said.
“Maybe he’s leaving the country,” Lynne said forlornly.
“We’ll worry about that later,” Neela said. “Let’s see if there’s a way out.”
“Did that,” Pavi said.
“Well, let’s do it again. Maybe there’s something we’ve missed.”
For the next several minutes, the girls focused on the room. Not a single spot was overlooked. Lynne pored over the desk. Pavi searched the table area where the instruments were being repaired, while Neela turned her attention to the door.
It was an ordinary wooden one with a brass knob. She jiggled the knob. Then she examined the frame to see if there were any cracks. Nothing. She frowned. There had to be a way. Unless…She remembered that day in the church office with Matt, and the sound of the credit card whizzing along the door. She had never done it herself, but it was worth a try. Only she had no credit card. What else could she use? She rifled through her backpack and found the half-finished box of Cracker Jack. As soon as she saw it, a lightbulb went on in her head. She pulled out the box and dug through what was left of the sticky caramel popcorn.
“How can you eat at a time like this?” Pavi asked. “I thought we were searching.”
“Just a sec,” Neela said. She found the shiny cover and pulled out the baseball cards: Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez, and Hideki Matsui. The cards fit easily in her hand. They weren’t exactly credit cards, but they were almost the same size. She inserted Derek Jeter’s card between the door and frame. “Too thin,” she said. She added Hideki Matsui and stuck them both back. “Better.”
“What are you doing?” Lynne asked.
“Oh my God, are you going to slide open the lock?” Pavi was excited.
Neela ran the cards up carefully against the door jamb and felt it resist. “It’s not giving.”
“Try it again,” Pavi said. “Do it more quickly.”
This time Neela ran it up fast and as hard as she could. In the room all three girls heard the distinct sound of a click inside the door as the catch gave.
“Yeah!” Pavi shouted.
Neela grinned and leaned against the door, which swung open. “Come on,” she called to Lynne, who had her head inside the large bottom drawer of the desk.
Lynne poked her head out, an intent look on her face. Her hand was inside the drawer, feeling around for something. She concentrated, tugging with her hand. “There, I got it off. There’s a false bottom in here.”
Pavi and Neela hovered over her as Lynne pulled out two items from inside the drawer. “They were hidden underneath this insert.”
They looked through them quickly. One was a tattered book titled A Chronology of Veena Makers of Thanjavur. The other was an old photograph wrapped in oilskin.
“Let’s go,” Pavi said. “We’ve been here long enough. That’s just another place for storing things.”
“No, it’s definitely a hidden compartment,” Lynne said.
“Pavi’s right,” Neela said. “We have to go. Ravi’s been outside all this time.” She stared once more at the book and oilskin cover, then made a decision. “But let’s bring them. Maybe they’re clues.” Lynne put them both in Neela’s backpack.
When they got outside, Ravi was more than just mad. “Where have you been?” he shouted. “I wait one hour, and no sign of you!”
“Ravi, I’m so sorry,” Neela apologized. “It was all a terrible mistake.”
“What do you think, I am some idiot who likes to sit in a car while you goof off in your fancy music store?” he seethed. “Or maybe you think my home is lined with five-hundred rupee notes, and I drive your grandparents around for fun. Better yet, I was hoping to get sacked today.”
“Ravi, please, you’ve got to believe there was a good reason,” Neela pleaded. She quickly told him about how she and her friends had been locked up in the back room of the store.
“Locked up? What’s going on?” Ravi looked shocked. “What kind of present are you buying for your parents?”
Neela shook her head. “There is no present. It’s too hard to explain. But we’ve been trying to find my lost veena, and now the man who locked us up has taken it away, and we don’t know where he’s gone.”
“A man?” Ravi repeated, still glowering. He became silent. “Well, there was a man about twenty minutes ago that came out of the store.”
“Yes? What did he look like?” Neela breathed.
Ravi shrugged. “A fancy kind of man, he smelled like perfume. I wouldn’t notice him except he had something tall and big that looked like a potato sack with wheels.”
“That was Mohan—with my veena.” Neela was excited. “Did you see where he went?”
Ravi shook his head. “I didn’t. But he did.” He pointed to a man in an auto that had pulled up to the stand behind their car. “Looks like he just came back from dropping him off somewhere.”
Neela regarded the auto driver, a lean, unshaven man with thick bushy hair, dressed in a dirty yellow uniform and chewing on a thin cigarette. “Ravi, do you think you could ask him where he took Mohan?” Neela pleaded.
Ravi glared at her. “Give me one good reason why I should talk to some random auto guy when your parents must be worried sick at home.”
“Because I really have to find out where Mohan went with the veena,” Neela s
aid. “Don’t you see? He wouldn’t have locked us up if that veena wasn’t so important. But it doesn’t belong to him, he stole it, and that auto guy might be our only chance.”
Lynne came forward. “I don’t know Tamil, but maybe you can understand this.” She bent down on her knees and looked at Ravi with her hands clasped. “Please help us.”
Ravi stared at her. “What is this girl doing? Up, up, the ground is dirty.” He made a motion with his hands to stand up.
Pavi knelt next to Lynne and did the same. Neela joined them.
“Please?” Neela pleaded.
Ravi looked at three pairs of imploring eyes. “Get up, all of you. Dear God, I hope today I am not fired.”
Neela and the girls watched as Ravi spoke at length to the auto driver. Both of them spoke in rapid-fire Tamil, so it was impossible for Neela to tell what anyone was saying. After a moment, the driver nodded vigorously, pointing his finger down the street. He spoke for another minute or two. When he was done, Ravi slipped something in his hand.
“You bribed him?” Neela asked when Ravi got back.
“Ayo, not bribing, just greasing the path to information.”
Neela felt a stab of guilt. “I will pay you back for—”
He waved his hand. “Forget it. So, you want to know what this fellow said?”
Neela held her breath. “Oh, Ravi. Where did Mohan go?”
“Can you drive faster?” Neela implored from the backseat. If what the auto driver said was true, it meant they only had twenty minutes to stop Mohan from catching the five o’clock train to Thanjavur.
“Missie, it’s a good thing I’m not driving you straight home for giving me a heart attack,” Ravi shouted. Now that they were on their way, Neela knew he was just saying that to get some more scolding in, not because he wasn’t going to help her.
“Where is Thanjavur, anyway?” Lynne asked.
“South, very old city,” Ravi answered in English. Neela marveled at the level of English he actually knew.
“But if Mohan leaves, we’ll never find him,” Pavi said.
“Unless we stop him,” Neela said. “But first, there must be some way to contact Govindar. I have his phone number with me but no phone.”
