The Mountain Shadow (25 page)

‘Starving, Pop!’ Farzad said, moving to take a place at the table.

‘No you don’t!’ a woman countered, tugging at Farzad’s sleeve.

She was wearing a colourful
salwar kameez
of pale green tapered trousers and a flowing yellow-orange tunic. ‘Not with those hands full of jail germs! Who knows what diseases you’re infesting us with, even as we speak. Wash your hands!’

‘You heard her!’ Anahita said. ‘Wash your hands! And you, too, Lin. He might have infected you with his jail germs.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘I have to warn you in advance, though,’ she cautioned. ‘I lean towards determinism, and I’m ready to roll my sleeves up, if you’re a free will man.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘And I don’t pull my punches,’ she added. ‘Not when it comes to philosophy.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

We washed our hands at a sink in the open kitchen, and then sat down at the long table on the left-hand side of the huge room. The woman in the
salwar kameez
immediately served us with bowls of meat in fragrant gravy.

‘Have some mutton now, you young fellows,’ she said, seizing the moment to pinch Farzad’s cheek between her fingers. ‘You’re a naughty, naughty boy!’

‘You don’t even know what I’ve done!’ Farzad protested.

‘I don’t need to know any such thing,’ the woman averred, giving his cheek another mutilating twist. ‘You are always a naughty, naughty boy, no matter what you’re doing. Even when you’re doing good things, you’re naughty also, isn’t it so?’

‘And cheeky,’ I added.

‘Oh, don’t get me started on
cheeky
,’ Anahita agreed.

‘Thanks, Lin,’ Farzad muttered.

‘Don’t mention it.’

The woman in the
salwar
tunic twisted one more bruise into Farzad’s cheek.

‘You’re a cheeky, cheeky, cheeky boy.’

‘This is Zaheera Auntie,’ Farzad said, rubbing his face. ‘Ali’s mom.’

‘If you have a taste for pure vegetarian,’ another woman, wearing a pale blue sari, suggested brightly, ‘you might like to try this daal roti. It’s fresh. Made from just now.’

She placed two small bowls of the saffron-coloured daal on the table, and unwrapped a napkin of freshly cooked rotis.

‘Eat! Eat!’ she commanded. ‘Don’t be shy.’

‘This is Jaya Auntie,’ Farzad stage-whispered. ‘It’s kind of a competition between Zaheera Auntie and Jaya Auntie as to who’s the best cook, and my Mom stays out of it. We’d better be diplomatic. I’ll start with the mutton, and you start with the daal, okay?’

We pulled the bowls of food closer, and began to eat. It was delicious, and I ate hungrily. The two women exchanged knowing glances, happy with the drawn result, and sat down beside us.

A few adults and children joined us at the long table. Some came from the ground-floor apartments, while others climbed down from the interconnected catwalks to stand near us, or sit further along at the table.

As Farzad took a hungry bite of his mutton in masala gravy, Anahita approached from behind and smacked him on the back of the head, as swiftly and unexpectedly as Lightning Dilip might’ve done. All the children near us laughed and giggled.

‘Ow! Mom! What did you do
that
for?’

‘You should be eating stones!’ she declared, waving the side of her hand at him. ‘Stones from those ditches your poor father was searching, instead of tasty mutton chunkies.’

‘The daal is also tasty, isn’t it?’ Jaya Auntie asked me.

‘Oh, yes,’ I said quickly.

‘Your poor father, out the whole night in those bloody ditches.’

‘Enough about the ditches, Mother dear,’ Farzad’s father said gently. ‘Let the boy tell us what happened.’

‘I was at the Drum Beat last night,’ Farzad began.

‘Oh! What music did they play?’ a pretty girl of perhaps seventeen asked.

She was sitting a little way along the table, and she leaned in to catch Farzad’s eye.

‘This is Kareena Cousin, Jaya Auntie’s daughter,’ Farzad said, without looking at her. ‘Kareena, this is Lin.’

‘Hi,’ she said, smiling shyly.

‘Hi,’ I answered her.

Having finished the bowl of vegetables, I gently pushed it away. Zaheera Auntie immediately shoved the spare bowl of mutton in front of me, so close that it almost fell into my lap. I grasped the bowl with both hands.

‘Thanks.’

‘Good mutton,’ Zaheera Auntie confided, with a wink. ‘Good for all of your angers and such.’

‘My angers. Yes, ma’am. Thanks.’

‘So, you were at the Drum Beat nightclub,’ Arshan said quietly, ‘which I warned you against, many a time, son.’

‘What warnings?’ Anahita asked, slapping Farzad on the back of the head.

‘Ow! Mom! Cut it out, yaar!’

‘Your warnings are delicious to him! He eats them up like sweeties. Yum, yum, yum! I’ve told you, operant conditioning is the only thing that works on this boy, but you’re such a Steiner fan. I’d say your son got fairly Steinered last night, wouldn’t you?’

‘I don’t think you can blame the Steiner School,’ Jaya cut in.

‘Indeed,’ Zaheera agreed. ‘The methodology is pretty sound,
na
? My Suleiman was saying only last night –’

‘And, while you were at the nightclub . . . ’ Arshan prompted patiently.

‘Well,’ Farzad said, casting a wary eye about for his Mother’s hand. ‘There was this party and all, and we –’

‘Were they doing any new dances?’ Kareena asked. ‘Did they play the music from the new Mithun picture?’

‘I can get you that music this afternoon,’ Ali answered her casually, taking a piece of Farzad’s bread and biting off a chunk. ‘Whatever you want. Even stuff from movies that haven’t come out yet.’

‘Wow!’ the girl sighed.

‘And while you were at this club,’ Arshan persisted resolutely.

‘And while you were at this Steiner School nightclub,’ Anahita interrupted, raising her hand, ‘free as a bird, your father was in the ditches!’

‘No,’ Arshan said, his patience a sympathetic string. ‘I’m pretty sure the ditches came later, sweetheart. So, what happened at the club, that put you in jail?’

‘I’m . . . I’m not sure,’ Farzad said, frowning. ‘I drank too much. That I’ll freely admit. And there was this argument, when the cops came to close the place down. Next thing I know, I was lying on the ground. I fell, I think. And then this cop kicked me in the back of the head, right where
you
keep hitting me, Mom, and I passed out. I woke up in the police jeep, and they locked me up, without a phone call or a by your leave. Somebody there called the Company, and they called Lin, and he came and got me out. He saved my hide. Count on it.’

‘That’s it?’ Farzad’s Mother asked, contempt drawing down the corners of her mouth. ‘That’s your big adventure?’

‘I didn’t
say
it was a
big adventure
!’ Farzad protested, but his Mother was already gone, headed for the open kitchen.

‘Thank you, Lin, for bringing our boy home to us,’ Arshan said, his hand resting on my forearm for a moment.

He turned his attention back to Farzad once more.

‘Let me get this straight. A policeman kicked you in the head, while you were on the ground. Kicked you so hard that you lost consciousness?’

‘That’s right, Pop. I wasn’t doing anything. I was too
drunk
to do anything. I was just lying there, where I fell over.’

‘Do you know this policeman’s name?’ Arshan asked thoughtfully.

‘Lightning Dilip, they call him. He’s a duty sergeant at the Colaba lock-up. Why?’

‘My dad’s gonna go nuts about this!’ Ali said. ‘He’ll have this Lightning Dilip’s badge. He’ll bring the entire law faculty with him.’

‘And my dad will bring the medical fraternity on board,’ Kareena added, her eyes fierce. ‘We’ll have this cop kicked off the force.’

‘Absolutely!’ Jaya agreed. ‘Let’s get started!’

‘Can I say something here?’

Everyone turned toward me.

‘I know this Lightning Dilip pretty well. He doesn’t bear grudges easily. He doesn’t even bear bribes easily.’

I paused, feeling the attention in the group.

‘Go on,’ Arshan said softly.

‘You can’t badge this cop. You can make his life very unpleasant for a while, and get him moved somewhere for a while, maybe, but you can’t badge him. He knows too much about too many people. No-one’s saying he doesn’t deserve it, but if you make his life unpleasant, sooner or later he’ll come back. And when he comes back, he’ll disturb your happiness again. Probably forever.’

‘Are you saying we shouldn’t do anything about this?’ Ali asked.

‘I’m saying that if you go up against this guy, be prepared for a war. Don’t underestimate him.’

‘I agree,’ Arshan said quietly.

‘What?’ Ali and Jaya asked together.

‘Farzad is lucky. Lin’s right. It could’ve been much worse. And the last thing we need, right now, is a sociopathic policeman on our doorstep.’

‘And operant conditioning takes another beating,’ Anahita said, returning from the kitchen. ‘What is it with you Steiners, and running away?’

‘Don’t go to that nightclub again, Farzad,’ Arshan said, ignoring her. ‘Do you hear me? I forbid you.’

‘Yes, Pop,’ Farzad said, hanging his head.

‘Okay,’ Arshan said, standing to clear the dishes. ‘Are you finished with these?’

He and Anahita took the dishes to the near kitchen, and returned bearing two fresh bowls and two bottles of soft drink.

‘Nice custard,’ Anahita said, dropping bowls of sweet custard in front of us. ‘To fill your blood with sugar.’

‘And Rogers Raspberry,’ Arshan said, placing the crimson-coloured soft drink bottles beside our bowls. ‘There’s not many problems in life that a long, cold glass of Rogers Raspberry can’t make look much rosier. Drink up!’

‘I like what you’ve done with the place,’ I remarked. ‘Who’s your decorator? Harlan Ellison?’

Farzad turned to face his father.

‘He saved my life, Pop. The families voted. I think this is the time. What do you say?’

‘It seems that it is,’ Arshan murmured, glancing around at the Escheresque web of ladders, handmade stairs and catwalks scaling upwards around him in the vast, half-bell chamber.

‘Is that a
yes
?’ Farzad asked.

Arshan swung his leg across the bench seat we were sitting on, and faced me directly.

‘What’s your guess that we’re doing here?’ he asked.

‘Taking a wild stab in the step-ladder, I’d say you’re looking for something.’

‘Precisely,’ Arshan grinned, showing a row of neat, small, perfectly white teeth. ‘I see why Keki Uncle liked you. That’s exactly what we’re doing. All of this, everything you see here, is one great big treasure hunt, for a very valuable treasure chest.’

‘As in . . . a pirate’s treasure chest?’

‘In a way, yes,’ he replied. ‘But a merchant’s treasure – smaller, and much more valuable.’

‘It must be, for all this remodelling.’

‘Farzad,’ Arshan said. ‘Get the list.’

When Farzad left us, his father began to explain.

‘My great-grandfather was a very successful man. He amassed a considerable fortune. Even after putting much of his money into charities and public works, in the Parsi tradition, his wealth was still equal to that of any industrialist or merchant of his age.’

Farzad rejoined us, sitting beside me on the long bench seat. He passed a folded parchment document to his father. Arshan’s hand rested on the document while he finished his explanation.

‘When the British could see the writing on the wall, and they knew their rule here was coming to an end, they began to leave Bombay, some of them in great haste. Many of the most successful British businessmen and their wives feared that after independence there would be a violent backlash against them. There was something of a mad scramble, in the last weeks and days.’

‘And your great-grandfather was in the right place, at the right time.’

‘It was pretty well known that my great-grandpa had loads of undeclared cash that he didn’t keep in bank accounts,’ Farzad said.

‘Money that was never adequately accounted for,’ Arshan added.

‘And that missing cash,’ I said, ‘bought stuff from the departing British.’

‘Exactly. Fearing that the Indian authorities might think they’d stolen or looted the jewels they had, and who knows, maybe some of them did, many of the British sold off their jewellery in advance, for cash. My great-grandfather bought a very large quantity of those jewels in the last months before independence, and he hid them –’

‘Somewhere in this house,’ I concluded for him.