Read The Delhi Deception Online
Authors: Elana Sabharwal
“In February 2006, he was sent to Seoul in South Korea. His cover was that of a software specialist. It was only after North Korea tested a nuclear device in October of that same year that George’s mission became obvious to most of us. There was much debate whether the explosion was indeed a nuclear detonation, but some radioactivity was measured and the conclusion made was that the test was a failure, a fizzle. Of course, wild speculation at the agency pointed to George being somehow involved. He remained in Korea for a few years, as relations between North Korea and the South were pretty tense, with war between them a real possibility.
“In 2008 he returned to Afghanistan for a year and in 2009 was appointed as attaché to the US Embassy in Delhi.”
“So he’s super spy, and how does this affect me?” Carla said with a hint of irritability. An annoyed expression crossed Leila’s face, but she was silent, watching Andrew closely. He ran his fingers through his hair, looked at Carla, and said, “Please hear her out.” He looked at Leila and nodded.
“We know George is involved in something top secret. Only a few personnel right at the top along with the director have access to the files. It was pure chance that I stumbled onto your file.”
“I have a file?” Carla asked, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Yes, of course.” Leila continued, “You are obviously very important to this mission, as your file was compiled shortly after you arrived in Delhi.”
Carla realized that she was gaping. She closed her mouth and said, “I see, please continue.”
“George is trying to get close to Harry Singh. There was some evidence of him trying to seduce Elouise Singh, but it didn’t work out as he had hoped. He managed, without much difficulty I may add, to become part of the same social circle. I can only guess that Elouise might have said something about her best friend coming to India to meet her estranged Indian family or something. Either way, he became interested and requested your file. Now I get to the scary part—I believe your kidnapping was staged.”
The silence in the room was palpable. Carla pressed her fingers deeply into the side of her head, massaging it in a small circular motion.
Why isn’t the paracetemol working?
“Carla, did you hear what I said?”
“I sure did.”
“It was a ploy to gain your trust and confidence. He asked you to spy on Harry, didn’t he?” Leila asked.
Carla nodded her head and sighed. Her mind felt numb, her body, disconnected, as she stared at her fingers as if they belonged to someone else. She forced herself to concentrate, to shake herself out of this surreal nightmare. Connect her body to her mind. Resolutely she looked at Leela and asked, “Are you sure? Absolutely sure?”
‘Yes, I’m one hundred percent sure. Carla you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
Andrew said, “Please Carla, don’t do anything George asked you to do and keep this conversation confidential.”
“He’s right, give us some time to get you out of this, safely.” Leila said.
“Should I avoid George?” Carla said, realizing immediately as she uttered the words how much she’d regret that.
“Yes, but don’t make it obvious. Actually, you should tell him that Andrew has arrived, and you need time to figure things out. That should keep him quiet for a bit.”
“And Elouise?”
“Tell her the same thing.”
Carla would avoid George, but she couldn’t keep this information to herself; she felt sure that Elouise would understand and couldn’t wait to get home to confide in her. Looking sadly at Andrew, she said, “Is this the only reason you came, to warn me?”
“Yes. I mean no, not exactly. I was worried about you, Carla, and of course I’m deeply sorry.”
Carla stood up and said, “I’ll go now. This is a lot of stuff to process. I’ll be able to reach you here at the hotel? Both of you?”
As Leila nodded, a sharp pang tore through Carla. Noticing her expression, Leila said, “We’re not sharing a room.”
Carla wanted to hit her, but instead she walked out and called the taxi driver.
.
E
louise was pacing, down the corridor and back and forth from the garden, complaining to the mali about the condition of the spinach, or the flowerpots that were askew. He muttered under his breath as he addressed the spinach with his head cocked to the side.
She called Kishan for the umpteenth time to change the lunch menu. He listened patiently, removed the yellow lentils from the stove, and started preparing the black lentils, Moghul-style.
Finally settling down in her bedroom with a book, Elouise stared at the words and wondered impatiently what time Carla would get back. At last she heard Kishan asking Carla if she would like lunch. Rushing out, she collided into Carla as she was walking toward Elouise’s bedroom.
“Oops, sorry. You’re in a big hurry. Late for the kids?” Carla asked.
“No, I was waiting for you. Where were you?”
“I went to Andrew’s hotel. We needed to chat.” Carla grimaced. “He was not alone.”
Elouise widened her eyes and said, “What do you mean?”
“Let’s go to my room. I’ll tell you all about it.”
Passing the kitchen, Elouise told Kishan not to disturb them. Carla’s room was cool, and with a sigh they both fell down on the bed, kicking off their sandals.
“This feels good. It’s so hot today,” Carla said.
“Yep, I’m afraid the temperature is going to start climbing now until the rain cools it down slightly during the monsoons.”
“When’s that?”
“From the end of June. But enough about the weather. Who was with Andrew?”
Carla pulled herself up into a sitting position propped up against the cushions and said, “Leila Canaan, his work colleague. The
one
in his bed in Peshawar.”
Elouise was shocked and sat up. “You’re kidding! But why?”
“I thought they were here to tell me that they were serious about each other and I should give Andrew a divorce—”
“That’s not what Andrew told me,” Elouise interrupted.
“I know. I was wrong. It’s probably worse.” Elouise noticed the dejection in Carla’s eyes and felt desperately sorry for her friend. Her resentment of Carla’s relationship with George was forgotten.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Elouise asked.
“It’s about George.”
“They know about him?”
“Yes, apparently Leila has known him for years. They both work for the CIA.”
Elouise was dumbfounded. “I can’t believe it. So I guess all those rumors are true.”
“What rumors?”
“George unsettled quite a few Delhi husbands. He is an incorrigible flirt and, as you know from firsthand experience, quite the charmer.”
Carla blushed and asked, “They suspected that he was a spy?”
“Well, no one actually said it, but you know how rumors are fueled. The ladies put it down to jealousy on behalf of some deceived husband, but instead of scaring them off, it intensified their interest. He was the most invited guest on the Delhi social calendar.” Elouise paused and noticed how pale Carla was. “Are you OK?”
“Yes, please continue. Tell me everything you know about him.” Carla’s voice was quivering.
With a frown, Elouise continued, “I don’t know any details, just some gossip here and there.”
“What were the husbands like, anyone important?” Carla asked.
Elouise laughed. “Carla, I don’t know. It’s all hearsay.”
“But still, you once said something about him flirting with the wives of powerful men.”
Elouise was beginning to feel uncomfortable. “I suppose so. It’s a high-profile type of circle he moves around in, but we’re getting sidetracked. What did this revelation have to do with you?”
“They said, I mean Leila said, that I was being used by George to help him get closer to certain people.”
A tightness in her chest made Elouise gasp. Carla asked, “Elouise, are you OK?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” She looked at Carla with a pensive expression. “Did they say who?”
Carla shook her head. Elouise smiled halfheartedly and said, “How long have we known each other?”
Carla laughed. “I know, I can’t lie to you, can I?”
“No, you can’t. Who was it?” Elouise was feeling strangely detached as she asked the question.
“Elouise, did George try anything with you?”
Taken aback by the unexpected question, Elouise stammered, “Uh, what do you mean?”
“You know…”
“Oh, I see.” Elouise sighed and continued, “He was very attentive. I liked him. A lot. Oh, Carla, I’m so embarrassed by all of this.” She looked around frantically for the tissue box; taking one, she wiped her eyes and continued, “The thing is, our marriage is in trouble. I told you the other day how Harry has changed. I felt neglected, insecure, and then I met George. It was all rather innocent at first. We played tennis, had coffee, and then I went over to his place for dinner when Harry was away in Pakistan for a conference.” She paused. “Do you want a cup of tea?”
“Elouise, no. What happened?”
“I’m getting there; don’t be so impatient.” Elouise was undecided, wondering what the implication could be if she told Carla the whole truth. She realized that the only way Carla would open up to her is if she knew everything. Elouise had the distinct feeling that she knew something that had something to do with Elouise and her family. Looking at Carla, she saw the concern and realized that if their friendship could withstand anything, this had to be it. She continued, “George cooked. He’s not the world’s best, but it was edible. I didn’t have much appetite. We drank a whole bottle of champagne and then we had cognacs. I knew I should have stopped, but—”
“Did you go to bed with him?” Carla interrupted her.
“Gosh, Carla, what happened to your polite listening skills?”
Smiling bashfully, Carla said, “Sorry, so what happened after the cognacs?”
“You realize, of course, that this is embarrassing, don’t you?”
“Your choice. I wanted to go straight to the nitty-gritty, but you are preferring the long, romantic version.”
Elouise started laughing, the tension lifting slightly. She hugged Carla and said, “It happened. I felt guilty and horrible. Took a taxi home and refused to speak to George again. It was three or four months later when I bumped into him at the golf club that I decided to talk to him. Of course, by now the rumors of his prowess with the ladies had spread like wildfire. I was relieved. At least it got me off the hook.”
“And you never told Harry?”
“Of course not. Harry still invited George to play golf now and then. I didn’t see the point in complicating things further.”
“So you think George was just trying to use you?”
“I don’t know. I often wondered about it.” Elouise smiled with a doleful expression. “I guess Harry works for the government, so possibly. But then again, I don’t know anything. Harry doesn’t discuss his work with me.”
Carla took her hand and said gently, “I’m so sorry, Elouise.”
With a rueful smile, Elouise looked at Carla knowingly and asked, “It’s Harry George is after, isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry,” Carla murmured.
Elouise withdrew her hand from Carla’s. The silence became weighted, threatening Elouise with suffocation. When she looked up, her eyes were glittering with tears. “Carla, you must tell me everything and don’t hold back.”
With a dismal sigh Carla pursed her lips and told Elouise everything. Elouise listened without interrupting. Only her eyes mirrored the emotion she felt as she heard the inconceivable account of the past week’s events. When Carla told her that she hadn’t given Harry’s files to George, she grabbed Carla by the shoulders and told her fiercely, “Don’t give them to him. Please.” Her voice was tremulous. “I’ll help you. We’ll find out if Harry is involved and—” Her voice broke, thick with tears. “I’ll do the right thing. I will turn him in if we’re certain of his involvement.”
A knock on the door made them both jump with fright. “Lunch is ready, Madam. I must serve in your room?” Kishan asked through the door.
Wiping her face with the tissue in her hand, Elouise replied, “Thanks, Kishan, we’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Then she looked at Carla and asked, “Are we on the same page?”
Carla stared at her for a moment, a deep frown creasing her usually smooth forehead. Then, with a heedful smile, she said, “Of course.”
Reassured, Elouise hugged her and asked, “Ready for lunch?”
“Yes, I am.”
Surprising themselves, they ate the vegetarian meal of black lentils, smoky eggplant, paneer, and spinach with real appetite while discussing their plan.