She runs a hand through her hair. “Mr. Seth’s fan club and the movie industry are putting a lot of pressure on us, Lakshmi. This may be a private palace project, but we are always beholden to the public for our reputation. We have to take swift action.”
“Your Highness, please. I hope you remember me as someone who keeps my word.” Obviously, she trusts me or I would not have been allowed in her private quarters without an appointment. “If I promise to bring you something credible, posthaste, will that satisfy you?”
“How much time do you need?”
“A few weeks?”
“You have three days. I’m sorry. After that, I will have to announce his suspension and possible termination.” It’s worse than I thought! And her tone tells me that she does not hold out much hope for my success.
She sets her glass on the tray and stands. It’s my signal to leave.
I reach for her feet again. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
As I turn toward the door, she says, “How’s your sister, my former student, doing? Radha, I believe her name is? She showed promise if I remember correctly.”
I laugh lightly. “She came to that promise late, I’m afraid. She now lives in Paris with her French husband, who is an architect. They have two daughters. She works with perfumes.”
Maharani Latika seems pleasantly surprised. “But that’s marvelous! I may drop in and see her the next time I’m in Paris. You’ll have to tell me where I can find her.”
“The House of Chanel. She started at another fragrance house and found not only did she enjoy mixing elements—she has a nose for scents.”
“Well, well. Give her my regards, will you?”
I namaste her and leave.
Malik and I have just three days to save Manu Agarwal. Three days to make sure neither Niki’s life nor his father’s is destroyed by this calamity.
* * *
Back at the Agarwals’, I call Jay in Shimla. It’s late morning. He must be at the hospital.
He answers on the first ring.
“Miss me yet?”
He laughs lightly. “You may lock up a cock, but the sun will still rise. You’re not in Shimla, but that doesn’t mean I don’t imagine you doing the crossword in the drawing room or coming out of your bath smelling of lavender or giving the nurses hell at the clinic.”
I laugh. “I do no such thing!” I tell him about my day so far, what the maharani said, how I’ve never seen Manu so depressed and how it’s affecting the family. “Malik has some things he’s following up on.” I pause. “How are Nimmi and the children?”
“Lakshmi, you must know she didn’t mean the things she said to you. She’s scared right now. She has no idea what Vinay has gotten us all into.”
It’s hard to be understanding when Nimmi’s rage was so palpable. In a few minutes, she dispelled the goodwill we’d built between us. I murmur something noncommittal.
He can hear my reluctance. He sighs.
“What about the sheep?”
“Nimmi’s paid the local shepherd to continue moving the flock every few days. He’s happy to do it because he has to move his own flock, and he herds them both together.”
“What about the wool we sheared?”
“Still in the pantry. Making it impossible to access Madho Singh’s food.”
“That’s why I hired that woman to cook for you.”
“Hahn. And now the bird has developed a taste for chapattis! Don’t be surprised if Madho refuses to eat seeds anymore.” He chuckles. “How long will you stay in Jaipur?”
“Maharani Latika has given us three days from today to provide evidence that Manu is innocent of wrongdoing. If we don’t produce it, Manu will be fired for the good of the palace’s public image.”
We’re both quiet for a moment.
Then Jay says, “The thief that is not caught is a king. You’re going to find the evidence, Lakshmi. Don’t let my old friend Samir get away with being the king here.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
22
MALIK
Jaipur
The clerk on the other end of the phone at Chandigarh Ironworks sounds like he’s about my age. When I introduce myself as the assistant to the accountant of the Jaipur Palace, I can almost hear him sit up straighter.
“Bhai,” I say, “I’m hoping you can help me.”
I clear my throat as if I am reluctant to begin. “This is my first important job, you see, and I’m embarrassed to admit that I have misplaced several documents.”
I follow this up with a nervous laugh.
He seems to be an agreeable sort of fellow. He chuckles. “I’ve done the same myself.” I imagine him as conscientious, understanding, popular among his friends.
I exaggerate my sigh to make sure he understands how grateful I am. “The palace has so many projects going on, and what I need I’ve probably filed in the wrong drawer.” I’m giving him my hail-fellow-well-met act—a holdover from Bishop Cotton. “Without your assistance, it could take me hours to find those documents. But, bhai, think we could keep this between ourselves?”
“No bother.” He lowers his voice. “Which documents exactly? I’ll mail a copy of them out to you.”
Mail from Chandigarh might take a week. Maharani Latika has given us three days. “So very kind of you,” I say. “Alas, my boss...he needs them right away, you see. He will have my head on a platter and serve it to the maharani unless I get them to him within the hour.”
“But you’re calling from Jaipur. How can I get them to you in an hour?”
“I only need the numbers. Maybe you could send them to me in a telegram?”
Now I hear him falter. “I would have to justify the expense, bhai. Telegrams are expensive.”
I chuckle. “Send it collect, and the palace will pay! I can always find a place to bury the expense. Accounting always has a way to work around these things, hahn-nah?” That gets an appreciative laugh out of him.
I tell him to send the telegram to the Jaipur post office and give him all the necessary details. Then I get up and grab some random invoices from my desk, so that when I pass Hakeem’s office, it looks as if I’m taking care of some official, necessary work.
“Abbas?”
I had not expected him to stop me. I turn my head, but not my body, as if I’m in a hurry. “Yes, Sahib?”