Gregory Roberts - The Mountain Shadow

I walked back under the wide arch at the entrance, climbed the steps to the long porch and stepped into Lightning Dilip’s office.

‘Call him,’ I said to the sleepy constable watching the desk.

‘Fuck you, Shantaram,’ he said, lounging in his chair. ‘You better not let him see you in here.’

I reached inside my shirt, pulled out a few hundred-dollar bills, and threw them on the desk.

‘Call him.’

The constable snatched the notes off the desk, and ran out of the office.

Lightning Dilip was back in seconds. He didn’t know whether I wanted to make trouble, or make up with a bribe, and he didn’t know which one he wanted more. He was oily with sadism, his bulging shirt stained with sweat.

‘This must be my lucky day,’ he said, the riding crop in his hand twirling.

‘I want to bail out three prisoners.’

‘What?’

‘I want to bail out three prisoners, with cash money.’

‘Which three?’ Lightning asked, suspicion pinching his face.

‘The three you’re kicking the shit out of.’

He laughed. Why do people laugh, when you’re not trying to be funny? Oh, yeah: when you’re the joke.

‘I’m happy to do it,’ he grinned. ‘For the right price. But will it make a difference to you, to know that one of those men has raped several little girls, and I don’t know which one of them it is yet, until I get a confession? Of course, the choice is yours.’

You try to do something right. My ears were ringing, and pain was waking my face. It was the kind of angry-pain that shivers in you, and won’t stop shivering until something very good or very bad happens. The bells wouldn’t stop ringing. A child molester? Fate is Solomon, forever.

‘I’d like,’ I croaked, and then cleared my throat. ‘I’d like to pay you to stop beating the three prisoners. Have we got a deal?’

‘We would have a deal for five hundred American,’ he said, ‘whenever you find it.’

He knew he’d cleaned me out. And the constable had wisely kept the hundred-dollar notes I’d given him to himself. Dilip gasped when I pulled the notes from my shirt and threw them on the table.

‘I have eighty more prisoners upstairs,’ he said. ‘Would you like to pay me not to beat them?’

At that moment, beat up and crazy, thinking that Lisa’s body had been at that police station, and that every cop in the place had seen her dead, and knowing that Lightning Dilip had beaten Karla, probably on the same gate he chained me to, I didn’t care. I just wanted the screaming to stop for a while.

I threw some more money on the desk.

‘Tonight, everybody,’ I said.

He laughed again, scooping the money from the desk. The cops in the doorway laughed.

‘This has been a profitable night,’ he said. ‘I should beat you more often.’

I walked out of the office, and along the white porch to the steps.

I passed under the archway, leading to the street, knowing that all I’d bought was silence for one night, but that they’d be beaten the following night, and others would be beaten after them, every night.

I hadn’t stopped anything, because all the money in the world can’t buy peace, and all the cruelty won’t stop until kindness is the only king.

A black limousine pulled up in front of me, and Karla got out with Didier and Naveen. My happiness was a cheetah, running free in a savannah of solace. And pain ran away, afraid of love.

They hugged me, and settled me in the car.

‘Are you okay?’ Karla asked, her hand cool on my face.

‘I’m okay. How did you know I was out?’

‘We’ve been waiting. Didier called us, and we’ve been waiting across the road, outside Leo’s. We saw you get thrown out of the station house, and we gave you a minute.’

‘That was Karla’s idea,’ Naveen added. ‘She said Let him get his pants on in peace . Then we were just coming toward you, when the black Ambassador stopped.’

‘And then, after it left, you went back inside,’ Didier said.

‘Which seemed a little brazen,’ Naveen smiled, ‘so we waited again, getting ready to bust you out, and then you came outside.’

‘We have news,’ Didier said.

‘What news.’

‘Vishnu talked to me, after you left,’ Didier said. ‘He told me who it was, that went with Concannon to see Lisa.’

‘Who?’

‘It was Ranjit,’ Karla said flatly, taking the cigarette back from Didier.

‘ Your Ranjit?’

‘Matrimonially speaking,’ she said. ‘But it looks like I could be a widow, before a divorcee.’

Ranjit? I remembered how scared he’d been, when I’d gone to his office looking for Karla. He thought I knew. That’s why he was so afraid.

‘Where is he?’

‘He skipped town,’ Karla said. ‘I’ve called all his friends. I drove them nuts, but nobody’s seen him since yesterday evening. His secretary booked a flight for him, to Delhi. He disappeared completely after he landed there. He could be anywhere.’

‘We’ll find him,’ Naveen said. ‘He’s too successful to remain discreet for long.’

Karla laughed.

‘You got that right. He’ll come up for bad air, sooner or later.’

‘You can relax now, Lin,’ Didier added, ‘for the mystery is solved.’

‘Thanks, Didier,’ I said, passing Karla her flask. ‘It’s not solved, but at least we know who can solve it.’

‘Exactly,’ Karla concluded. ‘And until we track Ranjit down, let’s focus on matters at hand. You look a little beat up, Shantaram.’

‘Sorry to intrude,’ the uniformed driver asked. ‘But may I offer you the first aid kit, sir?’

‘Is that you, Randall?’

‘It is indeed I, Mr Lin, sir. May I offer the kit, and perhaps a refreshing towel?’

‘You may, Randall,’ I said. ‘And how do you come to be steering this big, black bar around Bombay?’

‘Miss Karla offered me the opportunity to serve,’ Randall said, passing the first aid kit across the seat.

‘Knock it off, Randall,’ Karla laughed. ‘No-one serves anything but drinks and first aid in this car.’

I looked at Karla. She shrugged her shoulders, opened her hip flask, poured some vodka onto a swab of gauze, and passed the flask to me.

‘Drink up, Shantaram.’

‘Any opportunity to serve, Miss Karla,’ I said, smiling at her acquisition of the barman from the Mahesh hotel.

She cleaned up the few cuts on my face, head and wrists expertly, because she’d done it before, to a lot of soldiers. One of Karla’s best friends from the Khaderbhai Company days was a corner man, who kept fighters fighting. He’d taught her everything he knew, and she was a good corner man herself.

‘Where to, Miss Karla?’ Randall asked. ‘Although the destination is the journey, of course.’

‘Where do you want to go?’ Karla laughed, asking me.

Where did I want to go? I wanted to say goodbye to Lisa with my friends, and let a branch of grieving fall. Knowing that it was Ranjit who gave the pills to Lisa gave me the little peace that I needed for goodbye.

‘There’s something I’d like to do. And I’d like you all to do it with me, if you’re up for it.’

‘Sure, okay, certainly,’ they all said, none of them asking what it was.

‘Didier, do you think we can wake up your friend, Tito?’

‘Tito doesn’t sleep, as far as I know,’ Didier replied. ‘At least, no-one has ever actually seen him sleeping.’

‘Good. Let’s go.’

Didier gave Randall directions to the fishermen’s colony behind Colaba market. We parked beside a row of tilted handcarts and wound through dark lanes and alleys to find Tito, who was reading Durrell by kerosene lantern. He was lonely, he said, so he taxed us time: ten per cent of two hours. We smoked a joint with him, talked books, and then collected my kit.