The Delhi Deception (14 page)

G
eorge looked at Carla for a few moments, dropped his gaze, and started rummaging through some files on his desk. Where the air had been too hot a few moments earlier, the air-conditioning now felt too cold, and Carla shivered slightly. The silence was unbearable. Biting her lip, she wondered if she should just leave. Was it possible that George actually had something to do with her kidnapping? She decided to ask him directly.

“George, did you have something to do with this?” Her voice was soft, but her tone was firm.

“Yes, and no. Well, indirectly, yes.” He sighed and looked her. “I don’t know how to describe my involvement. It’s complicated.”

“Just try me. Any explanation will help—I can promise you that.” Carla leaned forward, her expression grave and expectant.

Just then a knock interrupted the drawn-out silence. Sunil entered, carrying a tray with a cup of tea for George.

“Some more chai, Madam?”

“No thanks, Sunil.”

He turned to George and asked if he should still serve the lunch at two. On George’s instruction to keep to the plan, Sunil left, closing the door behind him.

“I believe we have an informer in the Embassy. In fact, I think he works in my section.” George took out a photo from a file on his desk and showed Carla. The image was an enlarged version of a passport photo. The young, dark-haired woman wasn’t smiling, but Carla couldn’t help but notice the humor in her eyes. George put the photo back in the file and continued. “I was contacted by the parents of a young American woman of Asian descent at the beginning of this year. They were distraught because their daughter had decided to stay on indefinitely in India. They thought this was out of character and asked me if we could investigate.

“I was rather surprised to see that this young woman had come into the Embassy to ask our advice in helping her obtain a visa for Tibet. Her address and contact number in India were left with us. I became even more suspicious when we checked the guesthouse she was staying at and was told that her boyfriend had checked her out. He told the owner that she had gone to Tibet and then had decided to go on to China from there. I could imagine that it doesn’t mean much to someone not familiar with the politics between China and Tibet, but in reality it’s virtually impossible to enter China from Tibet. Even from a different port. If the Chinese authorities know that you’ve just been to Tibet, they tend to deny access.”

“Did you find her?”

“No, and we couldn’t find any evidence that she had left India.”

“How did her parents know she wanted to stay?”

George smiled at Carla’s impatience and said, “I’m getting there, OK?”

“Sorry.”

“Her parents sent us a copy of the letter she had sent them. They confirmed it was in her handwriting.”

Carla’s heart was hammering against her chest. “What did it say?”

“Basically, she said she was tired of her futile life in the West, something along the lines of her having started ‘her divine life.’” He looked through some of the papers in the file and pulled out a photocopy of the handwritten letter. “Hmm, yes, here we are, she says her life ‘only has meaning if she follows the ethos of the ashram, which is to serve, love, give, purify, meditate, and realize.’”

“I don’t suppose there is a return address?” Carla asked in a wry tone.

George shook his head. “The postmark shows that it was posted in Delhi.”

“Did you go to the police?”

“Of course, but they were apathetic, said there was nothing out of the ordinary here. India was the answer to many Westerners’ ‘search for spirituality.’”

“Oh my God. That’s exactly what he said.”

George looked at her with a puzzled expression. “Who?”

“The small, bald guy, the identity thief.”

“Do you think you could identify him?”

“Yes, of course. But how? He won’t know it’s me, will he?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be protected. I promise.”

“But, George, I want to go home. I’m scared. You should’ve seen how fearful the young guys who kidnapped me were of Barra Bhai.”

“Is that what they called him?”

Carla nodded.

George sighed, got up, and walked around the desk toward Carla. He knelt, his face level with hers.

“Carla, I know this is difficult, but we need you. Those girls need you. As you can imagine, it is extremely rare for anyone to escape.”

She turned her face away from his intent gaze. “You still haven’t told me how you found me.”

He smiled warmly, stood up, and held out his hand to her. “Come, I’ll explain during lunch.”

George sat down at the head of the dining table as Sunil pulled out a chair for Carla on George’s right. Sunil served them a chicken curry in spinach gravy, yellow dhal, steamed basmati rice, and a platter of sliced onion, carrots, and cucumber. Carla didn’t have much appetite but sat silently, watching George eat. Finally, when he had almost finished his lunch, he told Carla about the events surrounding her rescue.

George had had an agent follow the tour Carla was on. On the day of the tour a young American woman who was traveling alone in India had requested the embassy’s assistance in finding a certain yoga ashram somewhere in the foothills of the Himalayas. They obliged, and somehow she was invited to join the tour group. George had a hunch that the group suspected of kidnapping the other American girl could have been tipped off again by the informer. When the agent saw Carla leaving in the tuk-tuk, he followed her in one, too. Unfortunately, he lost sight of her when she got off the scooter in the middle of the road. He tried to find her, but he was already too late. Carla had disappeared in the bedlam of Old Delhi’s mazes.

George was notified, and a team was deployed to search for her. When Elouise called the embassy to find out what time they were expecting the group’s return, George told her that he had persuaded Carla to join him on a short trip to Jaipur in Rajasthan. The search continued, but the trail had gone cold.

Then George received a call from Asef, his informer from the Ghazni province in Afghanistan. He had recognized Carla on the night of the sale.

“How did he know it was me—do I know him?” Carla asked.

“I pointed you out to him. You were in Lodhi Garden.”

Carla looked at him in confusion and said, “I don’t remember seeing you there?”

“You didn’t see me, and I didn’t want to interrupt you; you looked like you were having fun” George seemed uneasy and evaded her next question by continuing his narrative. “Asef was working undercover, impersonating a Taliban commander. He asked what he should do, and I suggested he bid for you.”

Carla’s face drained of all color as she gaped at George.

He smiled. “You were pretty expensive. Asef was getting very nervous, but luckily the other guy who was bidding furiously for you, an Arab from Oman, gave up, and we managed to get you out of there.”

Sunil entered with sliced mango and vanilla ice cream for dessert. They ate in silence. Carla was afraid and wanted to leave India as soon as possible, but something was holding her back. Was it Nazeema and the other young girls? Or did George have something to do with her halfhearted desire to leave? Carla watched George eating the ice cream slowly.
I owe him, I owe Nazeema.
“OK, George, I want to help. What do you want me to do?”

George wiped his mouth with the linen napkin, folded it carefully, and put it next to the bowl. “Carla, I need you to return to the Singhs’ bungalow. You can’t tell Elouise about any of this.”

“But why?” Carla interrupted.

“Please trust me on this. We will continue seeing each other, and it’s up to you what you want Elouise to think about our relationship.”

She looked away, embarrassed, but urged George to continue.

“Carry on as usual, but I don’t want you leaving Delhi, and don’t go to Old Delhi.”

“Is that it?”

George laughed and said, “Wish it was, but I’m afraid not. I need you to keep an eye on Harry.”

“What? Elouise’s husband?”

George’s expression was serious. “Yes, this may come as a shock to you, but we have intel that he might be somehow involved.”

A look of total disbelief swept over her face; she was speechless.

“I will guide you day by day, as long as you can keep tabs of his comings and goings. Are you OK?”

Carla found her voice, which was thick with emotion. “Does Elouise know about this, I mean, about Harry’s involvement?”

“I’m not sure, but under no circumstances whatsoever can you talk about this to her or anyone. Please, it is for your own safety.”

Something in his eyes almost scared Carla as he said these words.

“Do I have to follow him?”

George laughed. “No, of course not, but I do want to know when he’s traveling, possibly where to and so on. You’re a journalist; you guys are good at extracting all kinds of information.”

Carla smiled.

He leaned forward, his face once again serious. “I need you to get into his study. We need to see his computer files.”

“What? I can’t get in there. I don’t even know where it is. And how will I get the files?”

George took out a small flash drive from his pocket and handed it to her. It was in the shape of a heart, covered in Swarovski crystals. It had a neck chain attached to it.

“A bit too much bling, don’t you think?”

He shook his head and laughed softly. “It’s perfect. Custom made and very fast. You can transfer over 250 megabytes per second.”

“And that’s the absolute fastest?”

George gave her a look of mild amusement while nodding his head.

“We’ll obviously be in touch, talking or meeting daily. Here, you can use this phone; it’s safe to talk on it.” He gave her a new looking iPhone. “I’ll guide you. Now I want you to call Elouise and return to the bungalow today. OK?”

Carla nodded, “George, please find out what’s happened to Nazeema. Maybe you guys can try and buy her. I have some money.”

“Of course, we will try, but you must understand we have to be very careful. It’s pointless saving a few girls and then exposing ourselves before we get to the group’s leader.” Carla nodded, feeling extremely sad for the unfortunate girl. George dialed Elouise’s number. He listened intently for a few seconds, then passed the handset to her.

Elouise seemed irritated with Carla when she described how she had decided to go away with George on the spur of the moment. She wanted to know why Carla hadn’t called herself. Carla explained that her cell phone, which was in her pocket, had fallen into the toilet. This broke the slight tension, as Elouise started laughing. “Oh, you’re such a klutz. Come home; I’ve missed you. Must I send the car?”

“No thanks, George will drop me.”

They said their good-byes, and as Carla got up, she felt a pang of regret. Walking to the bedroom to collect her things, she wondered whether recruiting her to spy on Harry was George’s only reason to rescue her.
Surely not,
she thought, and tried to push the preposterous idea out of her mind.

Elouise beamed when she saw Carla. She embraced her and invited George to stay for tea. He accepted graciously and followed Elouise to the veranda. Kishan was showing Seema how to plump up the Sanderson print cushions on the plantation chairs. He greeted Carla warmly and on Elouise’s cue hurried to the kitchen to prepare the tea.

It was a hot afternoon. The overhead fan was whirling noisily but not giving much respite from the heat. The emerald green parrots were particularly loud, frolicking in the massive mango tree in the corner of the garden.

Elouise called the mali and asked him to switch on the large air cooler out on the lawn. Carla was fascinated. The large box held a fan that sprayed a fine, cool mist smelling of jasmine into the air.

“I’ve never seen anything like this—where does the moisture come from?”

“A water tank is connected to it. But we have to be very careful. If the mali doesn’t empty the tank daily, the water becomes stagnant.”

“Why?” Carla asked.

“Dengue. It has become quite a problem in the past few years. Malaria in Delhi is almost unheard of these days, but now we deal with dengue, also a mosquito-carried disease. It is, in many ways, more dangerous, as no preventive drugs are available such as those for malaria.”