The Mountain Shadow (53 page)

‘Is this about Ranjit and me, or about you and me?’

‘This is about you. If we weren’t doing bike-talk, I probably wouldn’t be able to say it at all. Not to your eyes. I don’t like what’s going on. I don’t think Ranjit has any right to put you at risk. No ambition’s worth that.’

‘I’ll buy a bike,’ she said, leaning close again, and smiling on my back. ‘You’ll teach me to ride.’

‘I mean it, Karla. He’s rattling the unfriendly cage. Sooner or later, whatever’s inside the cage is gonna get out.’

‘Why are we talking about this?’

‘It’s like this. Ranjit can do politics, and I’ll ask friends to watch out for him, but you don’t have to be Ranjit’s wife
here
. You can be Ranjit’s wife a long way away from here. In London, for example.’

‘London?’

‘A lot of Indian wives escape to London.’

‘But I’m a Bombay girl, yaar. What would I do in London?’

‘You’re also American, and Swiss, and a lot of other nice places. You could set up a house in London for Ranjit, with Ranjit’s money, and hope he rarely visits it. Make it cool. Bombay cool. But make it so you can walk away, and never look back.’

‘And I’m still asking, what would I do there?’

‘You’d keep a low profile. And you’d use any extra money to make money for yourself, until you don’t need anyone else’s extra money any more.’

‘Uh-huh?’

‘Yeah. The real reason why so many people want to be rich is because they want to be free. Freedom means that you don’t need anyone else’s money.’

‘How does that work again?’ she asked, laughing.

‘Maybe you shave your lifestyle, save some money, and put a down payment on a house for yourself. You’re smart. In no time, you’ll turn one house into five.’

‘My lifestyle?’

‘What do I know? But whatever you do in London or anywhere would be safer than what you’re doing here, with Ranjit. Someone’s gonna hit him, and hit him hard, because he won’t shut up, and his political ambitions are making people nervous. Hell, I want to hit him, and I hardly even know him.’

‘His mouth is what put him in the game. That’s his table stake. If he wins this fight, his face will be on the political poster of his choice. He’ll get elected, too. I’m sure of it. And anyway, why the hell should he shut up, when he’s right?’

‘It’s not safe for you, that’s why.’

‘Let me tell you a little something about safety,’ she murmured, her face against the pillow of my back. ‘Safety is a cave, a nice warm cave, but the light is where the adventure is.’

‘Karla,’ I said, careful not to move, ‘you’ve got no idea how cool this is, listening to you, but not seeing you.’

‘You’re such an ass,’ she said, not moving.

‘No, really, it’s just great. And I was listening. I heard every word. Look, in my view, but who am I, the right woman is a big enough dream. If a guy wants a whole city, there’s something wrong with him.’

‘
Less
wrong than you, or
more
wrong than you, on a scale of
you
?’ she laughed.

‘You can’t go back home,’ I said firmly, my hands tight on the handlebars, ‘because you don’t know what’s waiting for you. And you can’t stay here, because you
do
know what’s waiting for you.’

I was glad she couldn’t see my face, and glad she didn’t pull away.

‘Look, you’re probably on a most-wanted list, Karla. And I’m definitely most-wanted. We’re who we are, and who we are has no place in lives of public ambition. It’s bad for them, and it’s a lot worse for us if it falls down, and they’re looking for someone to blame for it.’

‘I’m okay,’ she murmured. ‘I know exactly what I’m doing.’

‘I don’t want to think of something happening to you, Karla. Ranjit’s
making
me think of it. A lot. I don’t like him for it. One way or another, this guy puts himself on everybody’s hurt list. Have mercy. Send me a postcard from London, and give me some peace of mind.’

‘Mercy,’ she said softly. ‘My favourite inessential virtue. I think you’ve done this motorcycle talk before.’

‘I was right about this, wasn’t I? It’s damn cool.’

‘It’s okay,’ she murmured. ‘Is it my turn now?’

‘Your turn?’

‘Yeah.’

‘For motorcycle talk?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Sure, talk away,’ I said confidently, not careful what I wished for.

She nestled in tighter, her lips close.

‘Are you ready?’

‘Ready for what?’

‘You don’t need coffee, or a joint?’

‘I’m good. I’m so good.’

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Gimme a dramatic pause.’

‘But –’

‘Shut up! You’re dramatic pausing.’

There was a dramatic pause.

‘That . . . truly . . . fucking . . . transcendent ride home,’ she said at last, murmuring the words onto my skin, ‘was a rip through space and time, baby. When you crashed down two gears and gunned it, passing between the passenger bus and the water tanker, my soul left my body. When we slid the closing gap and roared through, a voice in my head said Oh yeah . . . Oh yeah . . . Oh God . . . Oh God . . . all the way home.’

She stopped, and stopped my heart.

‘How am I doin’ here, Shantaram, without all of my queens?’

Fine. She was doing fine. I turned in the saddle until I could see a corner of her face.

‘I thought you didn’t believe in God, Karla,’ I smiled.

‘Who are
we
to believe in God?’ she said, her lips only lashes from my face. ‘It should be enough for anyone that God believes in us.’

We could’ve kissed. We should’ve kissed.

‘I’m thinking that I have to talk to Lisa,’ I said, words cutting my own throat. ‘Are you thinking that you have to talk to Ranjit?’

She drew away slowly, until shadows took her face. I turned to the front again. She didn’t say anything, so I spoke.

‘I have to talk to her.’

‘Well, you can do that here,’ she said quietly.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Lisa’s here, at the hotel. Gemini and Scorpio are throwing a party, in the penthouse suite. They’ve taken the whole floor, in fact. Tonight’s the official housewarming. Everyone in town is up there. That’s why the limos are prowling. That’s why I asked you to drop me here.’

‘But . . . why didn’t you mention this before?’

‘Why didn’t you know?’

It was a good question. I couldn’t answer it.

‘Are you going?’ I asked her, still staring ahead.

‘I was going to ask you to be my door date.’

‘Ranjit isn’t here?’

‘Ranjit is otherwise detained, this evening. A monthly meeting with the City Council. Didier agreed days ago to walk me out, and have a drink with me at home. But I’d like
you
to walk me in. Are you up for it?’

I wanted to see Lisa, and know that she was safe. I wanted to see Didier for a report about the fallout from the shooting at Leopold’s. Good reasons to go. But I was afraid of spending more time with Karla. I hadn’t seen her for two years, but she’d been as close to me on the ride home to the Island City as wings on my back. And it was Karla, so there wasn’t an easy way to anything. She wanted to keep her husband alive for at least a few months more: it was cold-blooded, but I didn’t care. She’d been hurt, and she hurt back, but I knew there was nothing bad in her, just as I knew that she wouldn’t harm Ranjit or anyone else without reason. She was too strong for the world she knew, and I loved that about her, and I thought that if I looked at her again, I wouldn’t have the courage to leave her side.

‘I’d be honoured to escort you to the party, Karla,’ I said, staring straight ahead.

‘I’d be honoured to accompany you, Shantaram. Let’s get moving. I wanna see if you dance like you ride, or ride like you dance.’

Chapter Thirty-One

I
PARKED THE BIKE UNDER THE SHELTER
at the entrance to the hotel, and when I turned to look at her all sixteen queens stared back at me. I froze.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Sure, why?’

‘You look like somebody stood on your foot,’ she said.

‘No, I’m fine.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yeah,’ I said, glancing away from checkmate. ‘I’m good.’

‘Okay, let’s go to the party. There’ll be plenty of people to stand on our feet there.’

We crossed the lobby, found a lucky elevator, and pressed for the penthouse.

‘Every time an elevator door closes on me,’ she said, as the elevator doors closed, ‘I want a drink.’

The doors opened on a drinking party, already bumpy happy. Guests had spilled from crowded suites into the corridor, where they sat in groups or stumbled back and forth, laughing and shouting.

We made our way inside and found Gemini George, dancing with Didier to music just loud enough to ruin a shout. Didier had a table cover over his head and was holding the edge in his teeth, as a woman might with her shawl.

‘Lin! Karla! Rescue me! I am watching an Englishman dance. I am in pain.’

‘French git,’ Gemini called back, laughing happily.

He was having, quite literally, the time of his life.

‘Come, Lin! Karla! Dance with me!’ Didier shouted.

‘I’m looking for Lisa!’ I called back. ‘Have you seen her?’

‘Not . . . recently,’ Didier replied, frowning questions of his own at me, then at Karla, then at me again. ‘That is to say . . . not . . . recently.’

Karla leaned in close to kiss him on the cheek. I kissed him on the other cheek.

‘Hey! I’m havin’ some of that!’ Gemini shouted, offering his cheek to Karla, who obliged with a kiss.

‘I’m so glad to see you both!’ Didier shouted.

‘Likewise! Got a minute, Didier?’

‘Certainly.’

I left Karla with Gemini, and followed Didier back into the hallway. We crossed the corridor stream on patches of bare carpet, stepping over flowing groups of people smoking, drinking, and laughing out their other selves.

Didier opened the door to one of the adjoining suites with a key and led me inside.

‘Some of these party people know no boundaries,’ he said, locking the door behind him.

The main room was well appointed, but untouched. There was a tray on the writing desk: brandy and two glasses. Didier gestured with the brandy bottle.

‘No, thanks. But I’ll smoke a joint with you, if you’ve got one.’

‘Lin!’ he gasped. ‘When have you ever known Didier
not
to have one?’

He poured himself a thumb of brandy, selected a slender joint from a polished brass cigarette case, lit it, and passed it to me. As I smoked, he raised his glass in a toast.

‘To battles lived,’ he said, drinking a sip.

‘How’s Lisa?’

‘She is very well. She is happy, I think.’

‘Where is she now?’

‘She stayed with me, until just a few hours ago,’ he replied, drinking the measure of brandy. ‘She said she was returning to your apartment.’

‘How bad was it, after Abdullah and I left?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t go back to Leopold’s for a while, even with my influence.’

My thoughts went back to the fight at Leopold’s, Concannon cracking the lead sap into the fallen Sikh head waiter.

‘Dhirendra took a beating. He’s a good man. How is he?’

‘He recuperates. Leopold’s is not the same without him, but we must go on.’

‘Anyone else get hurt?’

‘A few,’ he sighed.

‘What about the cops?’

‘Lightning Dilip rounded up all the witnesses who had any money, myself included, and fined us all.’

‘What about the street?’

‘From what I know, nobody’s talking about this. It died, in the newspapers, after the first day. I think . . . Karla used her influence with Ranjit to kill the story, as they say. And those who are not scared of the Sanjay Company are scared of the Scorpions. It is quiet now, but it cost Sanjay a lot of money, I am sure. A lot of people had to piss on this fire.’

‘I’m sorry you got dragged into this, Didier. And in Leopold’s, of all places. It’s sacred ground.’

‘Didier is never
dragged
,’ he sniffed, ‘even when he is unconscious. He freely marches, or he is transported.’

‘Still . . . ’

‘An American friend of mine has a saying, for occasions like this.
It’s a mess, but we didn’t make it
. Yes, it’s a mess, but Concannon made it happen. The question is, what are we going to do about it?’

‘Got any ideas?’