Weapon of Vengeance (16 page)

“How come you don't know what's going on in your department? Mohite knows. He was just telling me about it.”

Damn that son of a bitch.
“Don't worry, sir. I will take care of the problem.”

“How can I not worry? You don't seem to understand how important this peace summit is for India. The whole world will be watching. This is our chance to…” Ravinder tuned out as Thakur launched off on his spiel. He was waiting patiently for the call to end when something Thakur was saying caught his attention.

“… it is very important that we capture these terrorists alive. Mohite was telling me they could be the key to a much larger operation. Have we found out anything else about them?”

Realizing that Mohite had talked about the tip Nanda had given, despite his having cautioned him to keep it under wraps, Ravinder decided it was time to put Mohite on the firing line. He'd keep him so busy that the idiot would have no time for squealing to the minister behind his back. “Not yet, sir, but we are working on it. In fact, since we all know how critical it is, I am putting Mohite in charge of this operation.”

“Good idea, Gill. We should allow Govind to live up to his potential.” Thakur sounded pleased. “That man has promise. He will be going places one day.”

Yeah sure!
Ravinder grimaced.
Especially with you watching out for him.
With this clueless interfering minister and a silly second-in-command, he knew there was huge potential for a disaster that could damage India and destroy his career.

Sighing, Ravinder headed back for his car; he needed to talk to Simran before Ruby got back. And that would be a difficult conversation. Somewhere inside, he wished all this were not happening right now … not when he needed to focus on the summit and the games. He shrugged fatalistically.
But things happen when they are meant to.

There was a loud thunderclap and it began to rain. Soon a thick curtain of rain enveloped the car.

*   *   *

When Ravinder walked in, the house was in an uproar. The maids, the gardener, and the driver were running around with buckets and mops. Standing in the center of the living room, Simran was running oversight.

“What happened?”

“What else?” Simran replied with an exasperated cluck. “These awful government houses!” She paused to instruct a maid before turning to him. “The bathroom drain has choked. We have water seeping into the kitchen from every possible corner.”

Ravinder opened his mouth to suggest something when he realized he was out of his depth with this one. “Should I have someone from my office look into it?” he finally asked lamely.

“What for? They'll take forever to respond, and by then my kitchen will be a total mess.” Simran was so miffed. Ravinder sensed that something else had to be bothering her too. “And by the time they fix it, something else will break down. Why can't we stay at our own house instead of this dump?” She was referring to the luxurious farmhouse in the Chhatarpur area that Ravinder had inherited. “It is lying empty as it is … such a waste.”

“Simran, we have had this discussion.” They of course had. Several times. But despite his best efforts, he had been unable to make her understand that it would not sit well with the powers-that-be for him to be living in such an ostentatious place. Corruption charges were something top cops were always facing. No. No cannon fodder for the media. He chose to live a
regular
life. Not to mention that the remote farmhouse would be much harder to secure … something he needed to worry about with those two Jaish-e-Mohammed lunatics still on the loose.

“The Sharmas don't have any such problem?” Simran sniffed, referring to his colleague who headed up Traffic. “
They
are happily staying in his wife's family home, and that is positively
huge.
”

“What they do is their call.” He patiently pointed out, “In any case, their house is in Model Town, literally a stone's throw from his office.”

“Yeah, yeah! I know!” She sniffed. “
We
are always the special ones.… We can never do normal things.” They paused, like weary prizefighters. Ravinder had no more to say. Simran's anger was simmering. “I can never understand”—she found her voice again—“why you had to opt for the police? Not when you had the option to join the Foreign Service.”

Ravinder sighed. He had no response that would mollify her. Anything he said would only prolong the argument. Even after twenty-four years of marriage, she had not stopped griping about his career choice.

But he did understand her. Born in a Punjab royal family, one not very different from Ravinder's, she must have expected to go on living as she had been used to in her father's house. She'd never thought it through before saying yes to the marriage proposal his mother had taken to hers. In those days, it was considered prestigious to marry a civil servant. He remembered her fury when he, despite being a topper in his course, had chosen to opt for the police rather than the more glamorous Foreign Service. He knew that Simran would have called off the marriage if not for the ignominy that would have led to. There was, of course, also the fact that there were not too many royal males available.

The irony of it almost made Ravinder laugh. He would have too, but that would only further infuriate her and result in another tirade.

She was a good person at heart. And he
did
love her, but he couldn't relate with her on any intellectual level. Also, though he never acknowledged it consciously, somewhere, somehow, Rehana had always strayed between them.

Why the hell did we ever get married?
As it had dozens of time in the years gone by, the thought hit him again. A futile question. He already knew the answer.

It was when he had returned from London that his parents, especially his mother, got after him. They freaked out when he'd called up to tell them that he was marrying a Palestinian girl.

He would never have returned to India if Rehana had not vanished, taking his darling Ruby with him.

Ravinder had gone berserk. He had run around like a madman through the streets of first Birmingham and then London, chasing down every possible lead, but Rehana had vanished, as though the earth swallowed her up. He finally had had to give up. Then he had turned and ran to the only place he hoped he would be safe, home to India.

Even today, Ravinder was not sure what had hurt more, the fact that Rehana had left him or the fact that she had left without explaining why. Later, when he reflected on it, he realized that in the weeks before she left, she had been moody and withdrawn.

No
.
Right from the beginning, Rehana always withheld a part of herself from me … from our marriage.

Ravinder had never doubted her love for him, but there
had
been something that she always held back.

“Even if you had to join the police, why couldn't you also manage your postings the way others do?” Simran's voice broke his foray into the past. “Four years in the mosquito-ridden hills of Nagaland … with not one decent shop for miles around … and … and…” Spluttering, she waved an angry hand. “Now finally we get to Delhi, and you agree to take over the Anti-Terrorist Task Force. Couldn't you have tried for an easier job? With a normal life?”

“I didn't ask for it, Simran, you know that. When Menon, the previous ATTF chief, died suddenly, they had to move fast … with the games and … all happening, there was no time to waste.”

“And of course you were the only one they could find? No one else was good enough … or silly enough…”

“Simran.” Choking off a retort, Ravinder waved his hand placatingly, trying to calm her. “Could you please stop this? I need to talk to you about something urgent. Could you please listen to me for a moment? Alone.”

“What can be more important than this?” She looked at him. And must have caught something on his face, because she dismissed the servants and turned to him. “What is it?”

Ravinder did not know where to start; he had tried to think of an approach while driving down, but hadn't found one. “Do you remember my telling you about Ruby? My daughter from—”

“From
that
woman.” Simran always referred to Rehana as “that woman.” She hated for that topic to be brought up even after all these years. “Yes. What about her?”

“
That
woman is dead,” Ravinder said softly.

“Oh.” Her face inscrutable.

“Ruby is here in India.”

Simran blanched. “Why has she come here?” She suddenly sat down. But ramrod straight, on the sofa's edge, as though on guard. Ravinder sensed her conjuring up images of a fortune-hunting girl out to stake her claim on her father's property.

“To see me, I guess.”

“To see you or to lay a claim on your property?”

“Simran.” Ravinder was irritated, but he had to retain his cool or this would be blown all out of proportion. “The girl has just lost her mother. Is it not logical for her to try to meet up with her other surviving parent? Please … let us give her a break.”

“How do you know?” Simran pushed back an errant hair, which had shaken loose and fallen across her face. A very un-Simran-like gesture. Ravinder could tell she was nervous. “You are so gullible. You believe everything everyone tells you.”

“She has not said anything to me about property. She just came to the office to see me; that is all. I invited her to come and stay with us.”

“You invited her to come and stay with us?” Simran enunciated each word bitingly. “Here? At
our
home?” Her tone spiraled upward almost out of control. “
Are you crazy?
Do you know what will happen to our chances of getting a decent match for Jasmine if people come to know…”

Ravinder had to let her vent for a while, to get her initial furious outburst out of the way. When she halted momentarily he spoke again, his tone even and nonconfrontational yet firm. “You must understand that she is also my daughter. I cannot.… I
will not
ignore her.”

Simran could hear the steel in his voice; it emerged rarely. She knew enough about him to know that he would not back down now; that resistance would only harden his stance. “How long will she stay?” she now asked in a resigned tone.

“For a few days, I think.” Ravinder saw her collapse back into the sofa. He sensed the hardest part of the battle was over, but felt no satisfaction. Her anguish saddened him. “I did not get much of a chance to speak to her, but I guess it will be for a few days only.”

“What will we tell Jasmine?”

“Simran, Jasmine knows I was married earlier.”

“Yes, but knowing something and having it shoved in your face are two different things.” Simran was on the edge of tears, as her carefully constructed world had begun to crumble. But she held herself together.

Ravinder's heart went out to her. Whatever her shortcomings, she
had
stood by him all these years, and he cared for her, for her and the family she represented. When he spoke again, it was gently. “I agree, but I trust her enough to know that Jasmine will not take it badly.” He reached out and took Simran's hand.

“So you say.” Simran freed her hand and put it back in her lap, along with the other one. She kept looking at them in her lap, as though something precious had trickled out from between her splayed fingers. A moment later, her fingers closed into tightly clenched fists. The knuckles white with tension.

Ravinder did not reply. There was nothing else he could say to make it easier for her.

“When is
that
girl coming here?”

“Ruby will be here”—Ravinder checked his watch—“in another hour.”

“Today?”

Ravinder nodded.

Simran gave him a long look. “Fine. So be it.” She muttered through clenched teeth, “But promise me that you will not mention this to anyone else.”

He nodded again, knowing that the views of society, especially of their relatives, mattered a lot to Simran.

“Let me get the guest bedroom ready.” Simran got up. “But … I am not going to sit around chatting with her … be clear on that. Keep that girl out of my way.” She was again on the verge of tears as she left.

Ravinder shrugged.

Now Jasmine
.

He steeled himself. Knowing that she was due to return from college soon, he got up and went out into the garden, hoping that she would come before Ruby did. He also hoped she would respond more positively than Simran.

Throwing another look at his watch, he began to pace the garden. His body needed to be in motion. His mind needed rest.

The rain had stopped. A late-afternoon sun was trying to push its way past the still overcast sky. Not quite succeeding.

*   *   *

Ruby went to work the minute she got back to her hotel room. First she called Mark. She had been dying to get cracking on her mobile in the car, but could not have the driver listen in.

“How is it going?” Mark sounded upbeat; India seemed to be working well for him.

“It's going well.” Ruby felt in a tearing hurry. “Listen carefully now. I am checking out of here in a couple of hours. I will be staying with … at a friend's place … not far from here. Make sure that you don't call me. I will call you.”

“What if I need you for an emergency?”

“Send me a text … something personal … like asking for a date or something.”

“That's a nice thought.” Mark laughed.

“Yeah right, but don't get excited.” Despite the stress, Ruby could not help chuckling. “I'm only a woman, remember?”

“Pity. What a man you'd have made.” He laughed. “But I get the drift.”

“Have you gotten hold of the team?”