Weapon of Vengeance

by Mukul Deva

  “I‘m sure you can, but you should not need to … not here … not on my watch.”

  Ruby laughed again, touched by Jasmine’s indignation. And then the waiter arrived.

  Soon they were biting into pan-fried scallops with XO sauce. Seared in hot oil for a short while, their crusts were thin and crisp and yet tender.

  “So,” Jasmine asked when the waiter had served them. “Tell me about yourself.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Whatever you feel like telling me.” Jasmine smiled. “Seeing that I know nothing about you, whatever you tell me will be new.”

  Ruby was stricken by the reality of who she was and why she was here, but she kept a smile on her face and gave a bland synopsis of her life, steering clear of her profession and of Rehana.

  If the scallops were good, the shark fin soup was unlike anything Ruby had ever tasted; ingeniously wrapped in a thin layer of egg white, it left an exquisite aftertaste in her mouth.

  “Your mother never pestered you to marry?”

  “No. Not really.” Ruby shrugged. “I needed to devote myself to my career first.”

  “See.” Jasmine sat back with a sigh. “That’s exactly what I keep telling my mom.”

  “She wants you to marry now? But you are still so young.”

  “She says it’s our family tradition.”

  Ruby held her peace, sensing Jasmine might not take it well if Ruby commented on her mother.

  “I keep telling her that I need to finish my law degree first, but … it’s this silly royal blood thing—” She stopped when she saw Ruby’s puzzled expression. “Didn’t you know? Both Dad and Mom are from royal families.”

  “No, I didn’t know that. I thought all that went out with the British.”

  “Yes, but you wouldn’t know it to hear Mom go on and on … that I’ll die an old maid. And my aunts are even worse.… They pump Mom up every time they meet her. Luckily, Dad is supporting me or I don’t know how…” She trailed off.

  “Do girls marry young in India?”

  But again the waiter arrived. The braised bean curd with crab claw was of medium-firm consistency, smooth-textured, and had a slightly sweet, pleasant flavor. It was followed by a steamed codfish with garlic and preserved vegetables. Ruby felt she was in culinary heaven.

  Jasmine resumed, “They don’t marry so young anymore. At least not the ones who are educated.” As she picked her way through the codfish, she said, “If they’re career-minded, they study as much as they want and work on their professional lives. It is just like in your part of the world. I know. I have so many friends—” She broke off again. “There I go, rambling on about myself.” Jasmine gave a shy laugh, suddenly embarrassed. “Tell me about yourself.” She giggled. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  Ruby felt reality tug at her again. “I am not sure right now.” She was surprised to find herself answering truthfully, as though happy that she was actually able to share her thoughts.

  “What does that mean? You either do or you don’t?”

  “Is it that simple?”

  “Isn’t it? You have one or you don’t. He is either there or not there.”

  Ruby pondered her beautiful simplicity. “Then I guess I don’t.”

  “What happened? You two had a fight?”

  “No. Not really.” Ruby gave a wistful laugh. Almost wishing they had. “I don’t know.… Somewhere something just went off track.” She fell silent.

  Jasmine asked. “Your mother did not like him?”

  “No! Mom never liked him.”

  “Fortune hunter?”

  “What?” Ruby laughed. “No. No fortune to hunt. Not in my case, at least.”

  “As per my mom, there are only three kinds of men. Fortune hunters, sex maniacs, and the right ones.”

  Ruby asked, after she finished laughing, “Okay, the first two I get, but who are the right ones?”

  “In my mom’s viewpoint, firstly, he has to be from a royal family … with more than just a dollop of blue blood. Secondly, he has to be as rich … if not richer than us.”

  “I see. Fair enough.”

  “Oh, but the list is not over yet.”

  “Go on, please.” Ruby smiled.

  “Thirdly, he has to be as educated, if not more. And lastly, he must be a Sikh. Trust me, Ruby. That is a heavy-duty checklist. It seriously trims the field down. In fact, sometimes I wonder if there is anyone still left in the world.”

  They both laughed.

  “By the way, I did want to ask you, do you go to the mosque or the gurudwara sahib to pray?” Jasmine asked. Realizing she may have strayed into sensitive territory, she quickly added, “I mean, because Dad is Sikh and your mother is … was … sorry … Muslim.”

  Ruby almost chuckled, but controlled herself, realizing that Jasmine might have been crushed. “Neither, actually. You see, Mom was a devout Muslim, but she never compelled me to follow suit.” Suddenly somber, Ruby looked away, her mind in a tailspin; suddenly aware that she could allow Jasmine to enter only so far into her mind; her … their father was the enemy. She could not allow herself to forget that. “Also, I guess I was too busy trying to fit in with the others … at school and in the neighborhood, I mean.” She saw Jasmine’s puzzled expression and explained, “Most were Christians, you see. Though we also had a lot of Jews … and some Buddhists and Hindus … and of course, a number of freethinkers.”

  Jasmine gave an understanding smile.

  “So I kind of grew up freewheeling. I mean, I do believe there is a god, but to my mind religion, well … most preach love and brotherhood, but in reality they’re the cause for so much hate and destruction.”

  “I agree with you.” Jasmine gave a grave nod. “But you have to have some religion … or what will they do when it is time to deliver the last rites?”

  That got them both laughing.

  “I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.” Ruby grinned. “Though, of course, I’ll have much less control over what they do to me once I am gone.” They both laughed again. “I just hope they select the most eco-friendly option.” The laughter increased.

  “Okay, maybe last rites was a lousy example,” Jasmine resumed, “how about this: What rites will you get married by?”

  “I guess I’ll worry about that when I find the man I want to marry.” Chance returned to her head unbidden and she fell silent.

  “Me,” Jasmine said between mouthfuls, “I wish I could find someone like Daddy. He is so amazing. You know, he is my very best friend.” Jasmine could not imagine the impact her words were having on Ruby and continued unchecked. “I feel so lucky.… He is the best father a girl could want. He is such a caring man.”

  Ruby felt a pang that drove through her. The dried hasma that she was eating; a delicious Chinese dessert, turned to ashes in her mouth.

  “I don’t know anything about him.” Then neither spoke for a while. “I just remember that he used to call me princess when I was small.”

  Jasmine nodded animatedly. “That is exactly what he has always called me.”

  Ruby’s pain now turned into bitter jealousy. Somehow that felt right.

  Unaware of Ruby’s turmoil Jasmine rambled on. “You know once I was very ill.… I think when I was four … or five, I don’t remember, but I was very ill and Daddy never left my side even for a moment. He would hug me and sleep with me. In fact, whenever I’ve been ill or gotten hurt, he would do that. Mom got upset that I would always cling to him, but he was cool about it. He always said that whenever his princess is ill or hurting, he’ll always be by her side.”

  Ruby burned with resentment.

  By now the level in the wine bottle had fallen and the alcohol had risen to their heads.

  The dinner bill arrived and Ruby reached out for it.

  “No.” Jasmine plucked it out of her hands. “Please allow me.” She threw a look at it and gave a low whistle as she pulled out a credit card. “Wow! That wine was expensive.”
<
br />   “I can afford it, Jasmine.” Ruby held out her hand.

  “Dad can too, Ruby.”

  “I didn’t know that Indian cops are so well paid.”

  “They are not.” Jasmine shook her head. “But dad’s family is loaded. So is Mom’s, for that matter.” She signed the charge slip with a flourish. “Might as well make the most of it, is what I say.” Jasmine laughed. “Otherwise, what’s the point of having a rich dad?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” Ruby hated the grim tone of her voice. Why did I say that? She looked away, suddenly teary-eyed. Shame assailed her … or was it a feeling of inadequacy? Betrayal? Guilt? She felt a surge of anger. What did I do to be so deprived?

  This time Jasmine noticed it and fell silent.

  The uneasiness between them held as they left. It remained as they waited for the valets to fetch Jasmine’s car.

  The valet must have switched the car radio on, because it crackled to life when Jasmine started the engine.

  We lose direction / No stone unturned … Elton John’s song “Sacrifice” burst out from the local FM station. His voice filled the car. And seeped into their heads.

  Neither wanted the song to go on, but both were grateful for the sound filling the void between them. The song ended. An enthsiastic RJ came on, brimming with energy. Followed by Doris Day. When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother … Que sera sera / Whatever will be, will be.…

  All the way back, Jasmine was silent, and hurt at the change in Ruby, but not mature enough to know how to deal with it. Ruby made no attempt. On the contrary, something inside her made Ruby want to nurture her yet-to-be-defined but decidedly ugly feeling.

  They bade each other a muted good night at the top of the stairs, and Ruby retreated to her room. Her resentment stayed with her as she lay down in the cold, strange bed.

  Of course, I have been cheated, she snarled in the dark, of a complete childhood … a childhood that can never be returned to me.

  Outside, it began to rain again. No thunder, no lightning. Just sheets of rain.

  Ruby was crying when sleep finally claimed her.

  Somewhere in the darkness of that long night, Ruby eventually laid her demons to rest. Or so she thought. Because a bit later, the dream came again, bringing with it the same faceless man who kept beckoning to her.

  Suddenly, the face became clear. It was Ravinder. He was years younger in the dream, the way he had been when Ruby last saw him. She knew that face so well; it was embedded in her heart. He had a loving smile and was searching through the house. Every once in a while she could hear him call out in a singsong tone, “Ruby, my princess, come out, come out … wherever you are.…” They were playing hide-and-seek.

  Suddenly he vanished … or to be precise … the face became dim again. Then clearer. Now it was Uncle Yusuf. He was calling out to her, pleading for help.… The gaping cut in his throat was like a hideous smile. He was desperately waving to attract Ruby’s attention, but his dismembered arms lay helplessly beside him.

  Ruby knew where he was telling her to go. She did not want to go, but followed helplessly … down the long, dimly lit passage … into that cold, oh-so-cold room. Suddenly he also vanished. Now Ruby was alone, totally alone. Lying before her were the charred remains of Rehana. They too were pleading to her. Crying. Tugging at her.

  Ruby did not realize she had cried out in her sleep. It was a pain-ridden cry. Then again. And yet again.

  The cries would not stop. They reverberated through her on and on. The thick walls of the guest bedroom contained them.

  No one heard her mewing cries for help.

  * * *

  Ruby was soaked in sweat when she awoke. Shaking off that horrid feeling she reached for the water on her bedside table. The jug was empty. She remembered she had finished it off before lying down. Grabbing the jug, she got up and went down to the kitchen.

  Barring trickles of light from the windows, the house was dark and silent, though she could hear the faint rustle of security guards moving near the gate. Then, the clang of metal against metal as the turning guard’s rifle butt collided with the gate. Then a murmur of voices.

  Her eyes gradually adjusting to the dim light, she finally located the refrigerator in the corner and took a long drink before she refilled the jug. She was on her way back when she saw a flicker of light from the room across the living room. It was casting shadows on the opposite wall. Ruby felt an eerie sensation that someone was hiding there, watching her. Her grip on the jug tightened; the filled jug was heavy, it would make a potent weapon.

  Could it be an intruder? Or …

  Jasmine’s warning echoed in her head: “Ever since we moved here and he was put in charge of the ATTF, there have been several threats against him.”

  She considered raising an alarm.

  “Who is it?” she called softly. There was no response. Hefting the jug, Ruby ghost-footed forward, ensuring she was clear of the door as she circled to bring the inner room into view.

  The culprit was a laptop. It lay open on the study table, facing away from the door. The screen saver flickered. That was what had been causing the fluctuating light and shadows.

  Ruby was not sure why she went up to it. Possibly only to close the lid and put it in sleep mode. But when she touched it, the screen came to life. Displayed on it was Ravinder’s Outlook. He must have been working on it and forgotten to shut it down. Ruby hesitated only briefly before she put down the jug and leaned forward to read his e-mails.

  On top was one from a Govind Mohite. It confirmed that Mr. Thakur, the Home Minister, had been informed about the LeT financier identified by the Mossad agent named Ido Peled. It went on to say that the financier Rizwan Khan had been placed under surveillance to enable ATTF to identify everyone who came to meet him, including the British woman terrorist they had been warned about.

  Ruby’s blood ran cold as the name of the money guy hit her. Rizwan Khan was one of the two names Pasha had provided her, of people to tap for money to run the operation. He was the one she had meant to call earlier that day.

  Fuck! What a close call! Ruby gave a sigh of relief. For a moment she wondered if Pasha knew that the Mossad was on to his financier. Then a second realization: British woman … so they knew a hit was coming.

  She had just clicked open the next mail when the clapping patter of slippers hit her ears; someone was coming down the stairs. After swiftly shutting the lid of the laptop, she snatched up the jug and returned to the living room. She was halfway across when Ravinder entered. She saw a pistol in his right hand; it was level, ready for action. He gave a start when he saw her and thrust the pistol into his gown pocket.

  “Oh! It’s you. I thought I heard something and—”

  “I came down for some water and was going back to my room.” Ruby held up the jug, almost dizzy from the rush of blood pounding in her head. Luckily it was dark so Ravinder could not see the shock on her face.

  “Okay.” He half turned away to go back. “Did you girls have a nice time?”

  “Yes, we did, thank you.” Ruby smiled. In the dim light he did not notice that only her lips had moved; her eyes were cold and still. A part of her wanted to lash out at him. Another part wanted to ask him again what she had done to grow up without a father.

  “I’m glad.” He looked happy too. “Jasmine was telling me that you enjoy different types of cuisine. So I was thinking, why don’t I take you for lunch to this really nice northwestern frontier place? It has been a while since I ate there, but it is supposed to be very good.”

  “I would like that, thank you, Father.”

  “You’re welcome, princess.” Now that once-precious word did nothing for her. “Tomorrow is bad because—” He broke off, not wanting to talk about his work. “No, actually, it would be perfect since I have to go to the same hotel for work in the morning. I will finish by one. Is that okay with you?”

  “That would be nice.”

  “Great. So be ready by noon. I’ll send t
he driver back to take you to Ashoka Hotel; they have this lovely restaurant called Frontier. Okay?”

  Ashoka Hotel! Ruby was thrilled. She now would get in there again; she knew Ravinder would be going to check on the security arrangements.

  “No worries about the car. I’ll get to the hotel on my own.”

  “If that works better for you.” He half turned. Stopped, hesitated, then decided to speak. “We never got a chance to talk properly.… There is so much we have to catch up on.” He paused, hesitant. “What did happen to Rehana? When and how—?”

  “It’s a long story, Father.”

  “It feels strange … your calling me Father. You always called me Daddy. Don’t you remember?”

  “Sorry. I will try to remember that.”

  “No worries.” He gave another tiny smile. “I understand. It’s been a long time.”

  “Yes, Fath—Daddy. It has. I was hardly four when you left.” Ruby’s tone was brittle. She could not smother her resentment.

  The mood turned somber.

  “You still don’t believe that it was not I who left, do you?”

  “I don’t know,” Ruby replied bluntly. Perhaps she did not want Rehana’s story to be a lie. “You told me your story. Mom told me something else. I am not sure whom to believe.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you?” Ruby asked bitterly. “And does it matter whether you left or she did?… You did not come looking for me … never … not once in all these years.”

  “I did, Ruby.” Ravinder struggled with the reply. “In the beginning I really did, but then I thought … maybe … that Rehana wanted me to leave you two alone … and … then…” He trailed off.

  “You’re a cop, how difficult would it have been for you to find us?”

  “Not very,” Ravinder admitted reluctantly. “But I didn’t want to intrude. Rehana’s lawyer made it very clear that she wanted no further communcation. And then, as time passed, I thought maybe you guys had started a new life.… I didn’t think it was right to…” He ran out of words again.

  “Because you had.” Ruby’s anger and bitterness were palpable.

  The ensuing pause was growing unbearable. Ravinder felt compelled to fill it. “So what happened to Rehana?” he asked.