“That man who hides behind you,” he said in a booming voice, “is a criminal and I need to arrest him and put him in a prison. Please hand him over to me.”
His glance suddenly went over to Maya, and a look of recognition glinted in his eyes.
“I cannot believe it,” he exclaimed, “all the people that I warned against nosing into my affairs are here.”
Maya’s blood boiled. This was the same man who had assaulted her.
Maya’s glance had been so focused on Ernst, that she hadn’t yet been able to identify the man as the one who had beaten her and left her in a garbage dump. In the excitement of the mystery about Harold, Maya had ignored the warning letter that she had received a few days ago, but now, seeing the perpetrator in front of her eyes, her temper soared. If it had been any man other than him (he was almost double her height and his biceps were about as thick as both of Maya’s thighs put together) Maya would have hurled herself upon him and taught him a lesson. Now, she bit her tongue and stood reticent, listening to what he had to say.
“I believe,” said Crow, “that just like Mr. Ernst Wilhelm here, you too might need some more explanation. The warning letter that you received was to let you know that it is always advisable to keep your nose in your own affairs. And the beating was a reminder that this world can be a dangerous place. I hope that the warning had an effect on you, and that being said, I would like to put that to test and ask you to return the man who is hiding behind you.”
“Why do you want him,” Maya asked.
Crow smiled.
“Why do I get the feeling that the beating did not have the desired effect. You should ask no questions to me if you want to stay safe.”
“You talk to her properly, Crow,” Ernst burst out and Maya was inexplicably pleased to see that he had taken a stand for her.
“Oh, lovely. A man standing up for a woman. But I will continue to talk to her like that. What will you do?”
Ernst stepped forward to face the big man.
“You are not thinking of fighting me, are you?” mocked Crow, “Remember the badly mangled body of the ashram guard and think again."
But Ernst seemed to have made up his mind. He launched himself towards Crow and punched him with all his power on the stomach. The effort had no visible effect on the giant man. If anything, he was mildly amused. He peeled Ernst’s fist away from his stomach and began to twist his arm.
“You are a brave man,” he said, “But foolish.”
He continued to twist his arm till Ernst was writhing in pain. Maya had to do something. It was for her, after all, that Ernst had confronted the man. There was no time to make any sort of strategy as Maya slipped out the small pocket knife from the folds of her dress and hurled herself onto the man. She aimed for the legs, mainly because that was about the only part of his body that she had access to. Meanwhile, after twisting Ernst’s arm to his back, Crow had put his other hand to his throat and lifted him up. Ernst hung in the air, his feet flailing and his face red. Maya’s knife was only inches away from his thigh when he realized her intention and a shrug of his legs sent Maya rolling away.
Crow shouldn’t have done that.
Seeing a fellow circus performer (albeit one who had retired seven years ago) treated in such a rough way, enraged the other performers greatly.
They gave out a huge collective scream and launched themselves on Crow, who, as large as he was, was still no match for the two dozen people attacking him. Especially since the attackers were trained circus performers adept at jumping through hoops of fire and fighting with bears.
Chang the martial artist did the most damage to Crow. He scampered up Crow’s large form and settled on his shoulders from where he aimed careful punches to sensitive spots. Helena, who was somehow carrying a rolling pin from the kitchen, used that to aim blows at the man.
When the dust settled, Crow lay on the ground, unconscious and badly bruised and beaten. His two associates had long fled upon the sight of the angry circus performers. The old chemist as well was nowhere to be seen.
Maya stood over Crow and was reminded of the pain she had felt when she had woken up in the garbage dump. Flush with rage, she collected all her energy and kicked him on the stomach. Though he was already unconscious, Maya hoped that he had felt the sting of the kick.
Feeling slightly better, she turned once more to face Ernst who lay on the ground, slightly shocked, but otherwise fine.
“Are you all right,” she asked.
Ernst looked straight into her eyes.
“No,” he said, “I am hurt. By your lies.”
THIRTY-SIX
A Knife Dripping with Blood
“Grrrr…Phishhhhhh”
Nadia woke up with a throbbing head.
“Grrrr…Phishhhhhh”
She hadn’t been able to sleep the whole night.
“Grrrr…Phishhhhhh”
That was three nights in a row that it had happened now. The reason –
“Grrrr…Phishhhhhh”
Her tent partner Dolly’s snores were louder than the roars of Bulloo the circus lion.
Dolly had arrived in Nadia’s tent the same night that Natasha had shifted out. A toilet cleaner in the circus, the large woman didn’t seem to be in the habit of washing herself or her broom and washing bucket which she kept in the tent by her bed. In the three nights that she’d been here, Dolly had managed to make her sleeping space smell like her workspace. But that wasn’t the worst part of Nadia’s last three days. She hadn’t been visited by Uncle Harold at all during this time. That was very disconcerting. When Nadia was seriously ill the last time, a bout of jaundice which had colored her eyes pale yellow and stripped her of all energy for a week, Harold hadn’t left her bedside. Now, with his niece suffering from a broken hand, he was nowhere to be seen. Even Natasha had only visited her once, at around midnight when she was sure her father could not see her sneak in.
However hard Nadia wrenched her mind to explain her sudden fall from grace, she failed miserably. What could have Bill possibly told Harold, for him to change his behavior so much? Nadia had wanted to confront Harold and ask him but hadn’t managed to get hold of him alone. Most of the time he was in the circus ring, directing the performance rehearsals or instructing workers to put up the tents and the props. She was also certain that Harold was purposefully trying to avoid her. Yesterday, she had found him in the kitchen, having his lunch in an almost empty tent slightly late in the afternoon. But as soon as he had seen her approach, he had left his food unfinished and rushed out.
It killed Nadia to think of all the possibilities which had led to this behavior. Unable to sleep at night, she had taken to running through the various events in her life which could have led to this. She had thought about the time when she had set fire to the menagerie by mistake and gravely injured a circus horse in the process. Then, there was the time when she had jumped into a pond near the circus ground prompting Harold to jump in after her, and almost be killed by an alligator.
But how could these things, so old that she barely remembered all the details, have a bearing now? It was absurd.
Nadia got up and stretched as much as her fractured hand would allow. It was still early in the morning and a faint light glanced through the entry flap of the tent. If she went out now, she might be able to find Harold in his tent. He would have no one else around, and Nadia would make sure that he was not able to escape without answering her questions.
She quickly put on her slippers and hurried out. A few yards from his tent, she realized that though Harold was in his tent, he wasn’t alone. He was talking to his brother Bill.
As much as she would like not to go face to face with Bill, Nadia could not let go of this opportunity. In some ways, this was even better. After all, it was Bill who had sown the seeds which had germinated into Harold’s sudden dislike for Nadia.
She entered the tent purposefully. Inside, Bill and Harold were tucked in two separate cots facing each other and tal
king. They stopped as soon as they saw Nadia.
“What are you doing here?” Harold asked, so rudely that Nadia’s hopes of a quick reconciliation faded quickly. She resisted the tears welling at the back of her eyes, and tried to breathe.
“I am here to ask the reason for the change in your behavior over the last three days.”
Nadia was sure she saw Bill chuckle contently at her question.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” said Harold crudely, “Go back to your tent.”
“But why?”
“Because I don’t want to,” he said, getting up from his cot and putting his feet inside his shoes. But Nadia would not let him escape. Not without answers.
“You have to answer me, Uncle. Please.”
“Don’t call me uncle,” he said, so coldly that a drop of tear rolled down Nadia’s cheek. He tried to push her aside and leave but Nadia held his hands.
“Why do you say so, Uncle?”
“Because I am not your uncle. You are not my sister’s daughter. In fact, you murdered her.”
Harold shrugged her hand and left, while Nadia held the tent canvas to keep her balance. She did not realize but she was crying now.
“I warned you,” said Bill grinning, “I could destroy all that you valued.”
Nadia wiped her face
“What did he mean?” she asked.
“He meant what he said,” said Bill, “You are not our niece. You are not the daughter of our sister Gloria. You are the daughter of Jasmine, the most desirable whore in all of Flea market. Raman, your father and my brother in law, was an unfaithful husband, and Jasmine was his favorite past time. So much so, that a few months after meeting her first, he married her secretly and shifted her from the brothel to a small apartment. When Jasmine became pregnant with you, that bastard brought Jasmine to his house, to live with my sister. Gloria couldn’t bear it, of course, and she killed herself. This was the time when I was working in Cardim. I found out about my sister's death and the reason for it some months later when I went to visit her. I was very upset, but did not have the heart to give the news to Harold. I knew how much he adored Gloria and reasoned that it would be no use upsetting Harold when he could do nothing about it. It was better to keep the knowledge from him. When Harold received the telegram some years later of the death of his brother in law and his wife, that wife wasn’t Gloria, as he had thought, but Jasmine. And the child he thought was her sister’s wasn’t hers at all but a prostitute’s. The same one who was the reason for his sister’s death. So you can understand his crossness with you.”
Nadia was stunned. She felt like something was pricking in her ear, a sharp shrill sound.
“Now don’t you cry,” Bill got up and came to Nadia, “All is not lost yet. I knew your mother, and I can take care of you.”
He put his hand around her shoulders.
“Be with me, I will take care of you, and keep you happy,” he pressed her tighter in an embrace.
Nadia fidgeted. She wanted to stop crying but somehow couldn’t. The tears just kept on coming.
“What do you say, huh. You are an intelligent girl,” his hand touched her cheeks and moved towards her lips.
Why did this have to happen to her? Why?
“Come, darling,” Bill’s face moved closer to kiss her.
It happened so quickly that for a moment Bill did not realize what had transpired. Nadia’s anger poured forth in a sudden strike. She picked up a kitchen knife from a table in the tent and as Bill’s face moved closer to her, she wielded it. She had intended to hit him in the throat, kill him if possible but she could only get his left eye. Bill flailed backward, shocked and silent as the silver knife poked through his eyes and blood spurted down his cheeks and upon the floor in a fearful cascade. Nadia looked at him, stumbling backward and for a moment felt like the floor had given way beneath her feet.
What had she done?
When Bill finally fell down, as if dead, the gravity of her deed came rushing to her. She jumped upon him and escaped. No one saw her as she ran past her own tent and that of Natasha and Helena, past the menagerie and the main gate of the circus, never to return.
Nadia’s world had changed forever.
THIRTY-SEVEN
The Choice
Maya sat down in the chair by the window and lit a cigarette. It had been a week since she had left Anthill, and in her lap lay a letter from Natasha. She had reluctantly given her cousin the address to her room before departing the circus. The letter was addressed to Nadia, and Maya was grateful that Maisie, her roommate, had not found the letter or she would be flush with questions.
She smoked half a cigarette before finally picking up the letter.
Dear Nadia,
How are you?
I wanted to write to you to thank you properly. Your farewell wasn’t the most fitting, especially considering what you had done for the circus.
There are also some major developments since you left, positive mostly, which I thought you deserve to know.
You’d be happy to learn that our last show was a major success. Though a lot of it had to do with the busted ashram of Guru Ramdas beside the ground, which gave us a lot of publicity in the newspapers, but I cannot complain.
Both Olivia and her husband have been arrested by the police and Uncle Bill has also left the circus. I decided not to pursue his case with the police, he is our uncle, after all. Anyway, he has promised to pay back all the money that he stole from the circus, and has already returned more than 40,000 Cowries. That, combined with the proceeds from our show, have enabled us to pay back most of the creditors. I am now thinking of doing a show in Cardim, complete with newer acts. I am planning to invite the human cannonball back to the circus as well. What do you think?
I would let you know when we are in the city, so that you can come to visit us.
By the way, Helena told me about your handsome friend. Is he someone special?
Yours,
Natasha
Maya dropped the letter and took a few deep drags of her cigarette.
The last line had hit her hard. Like a stray bullet, straight into the chest.
Ernst. She had spent a whole week trying to wring that name out of her brain. Painstakingly remember all the moments that she had shared with the High Guard and carefully erase them, so that there was no trace of him in her life. She had thought that she had been successful as well. But his mere mention in the letter had brought forth myriad emotions back to her mind.
She struggled to breathe properly. Her mind was occupied by the stony glance that Ernst had accorded her while parting from her in the circus. He had left in a carriage soon after the showdown with Crow, lugging the giant criminal and his half-insane father out. And before parting, he had given her a choice – “either tell me the truth, everything about yourself, or I would not meet you again”. For Maya this had been no choice at all, she couldn’t reveal her past to him. To anyone. Revealing the details that she had worked so hard to forget, would mean willingly severing all bonds with him. Maya was certain that no one who knew her past would agree to be a part of her present. Not Ernst certainly.
It was better to part in dignity, she had reasoned, than be humiliated by one’s history.
There was a knock on the door and Maya realized with horror that her eyes were streaked with tears. She quickly wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her blouse and opened the door.
Ernst stood at the doorway, a paper package in his hand. He was dressed in a blue suit with a bow tie and shining black shoes.
For a few moments, both stood frozen, facing each other, unaware of what to do. The feeling of such indecision was so new for Maya that she stopped breathing till she realized that she was out of breath.
It was Ernst who spoke first.
“I don’t know who you are,” said he in a voice which tried to be stern but was clearly more helpless, “But I would like to know you better. There is a High Guard ball in my constabulary in exactly one hour. I
tried a lot, but could not think of any other girl to take there. If you decide that you want to tell me everything, please put on this ball gown and meet me downstairs. I would be waiting for you in the cab. If you don’t come, I would think that you really don’t want me in your life, and I would not bother you again.”
He handed her the package and walked away.
Maya trundled to her window with difficulty and saw him walk inside a hansom parked in the street below.
She dropped the dress on her table, jumped on her bed, and began to cry.
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The Spiritualist’s Dilemma - Maya Mystery Bonus Book
Dr. Chinew's first night in his new house is disturbed by a break-in. The intruder steals nothing but leaves behind a message - Death Comes to All.
Maya maintains she is not crazy, only different. Henry Camleman, the chief of Bombay Detective Agency, disagrees. He cannot think of any other reason why a (as far as he knew) reputable 21 year old woman would want to become a detective in his agency. Solving crimes in Cardim, a city teeming with crime and criminals, is fraught with danger and involves dealing with the kind of people he wouldn't imagine a woman mingling with in a thousand years. To humor the stubborn woman, however, he gives her a fairly harmless domestic case. A celebrated spiritualist claims that there are spirits in his house and Camleman wants Maya to prove otherwise. He hopes the case would keep Maya indulged in a puzzle of ghosts and spirits while keeping her safe from the grime of actual crimes.
Little does Camleman know the true extent of the affair.
As Maya delves deeper into the mystery, it takes her little time to uncover a web of theft, deceit, betrayal and murder which would test the skills and perseverance of the amateur detective to the fore. Will she pass the first exam of her professional career?
The Mystic's Miracle Page 15
