Chapter 15 - Smell of Revenge

This chapter is dedicated to Mayad who has quit IF-IPKKND as of today. A toast to her happiness and health. Mayad - I promise I will read Odessa File as soon as I get a chance. 

Dear Readers

I have a humble request. When you leave your comments, please leave your initials or IF name. Sometimes, I get lovely comments, but I have no idea who you are. If you wish to use a fake name, like the "Lana" here, feel free to do so, keeping it consistent throughout TSC :))The reference to Brazil, South America, in this chapter is to the activities of the nefarious organization The ODESSA. Quoting from Wikipedia, " The ODESSA, from the German Organisation der ehemaligen SS-Angehörigen, meaning “Organization of Former SS Members,”. is believed to have been an international Nazi network set up towards the end of World War II by a group of SS officers. The purpose of the ODESSA was to establish and facilitate secret escape routes, later known as ratlines, to allow SS members to avoid their capture and prosecution for war crimes. Most of those fleeing out of Germany and Austria were helped to South America and the Middle East." 
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(play the music for mood)

Khushi spent most of the day in her room. After the initial shock wore off, she plunged into exhaustion of the previous day’s events. She stood by the window and went over the conversation between Sasi and ASR. She was adopted, she was not a Gupta, Payal and Molly weren’t her sisters, she was a bastard child of a reckless prince and a Jewish mother. Why had’t Sasi told her before? What was he trying to protect her from? Who else knew about her bastard status? Were Payal and Molly privy to the information?

She was roiling with questions about her parentage and birth. She wanted to be mad and furious at Sasi and Garima, her parents, her adoptive parents, she corrected. And just as soon, her rage was wiped away by a surge of guilt. She wanted to believe that Sasi had good reasons to hide the truth from her. She wanted explanations, yet she knew the truth tied her directly to the murders of the royal families in many countries.

She wished the memory would erase from her conscious and the day had never happened but it did, staring at her grotesquely. She pulled her rob closer together and thought of Chameli. The poor dog did not deserve to die. Chameli had been her source of joy and comfort in the days when Payal was her meanest .

You were the only one who loved me Chameli, the only one who didn’t care that I am a bastard, the only one who didn’t hide any secrets from me!

Khushi could not hold it in anymore and ran to the bathroom, retching in the sink as the bloodied body of Chameli flashed again and again before her eyes. She would never be able to forgive herself for Chameli’s death. It was her fault, her irrational behavior that had put the dog in harm’s way. Khushi began sobbing and sat on the bathroom floor. She was helpless and no one who ever mattered to her in her life so far was truly hers anymore. No one.

Garima heard movement in Khushi’s room and rushed in. Her insides tore into million pieces when she found her child sitting in the corner of the bathroom, crying.

“Khushiiii. Beta, please.” She bent down and helped Khushi to her feet. Khushi’s eyes were going through the motions of mourning but what caught Garima’s attention was that those eyes were blank. Her grey-green eyes never failed to reveal her true feelings during trying times but today they were placid. A hot flash of panic coursed through Garima and she was afraid she had lost Khushi as her daughter, forever.

She handed Khushi a glass of water. Khushi took a few sips and lied down. Garima cradled her head in her arms and kissed her forehead.

“Khushi, talk to me, my child.” Garima urged, searching her daughter’s eyes for some signs of connection. Khushi blinked once and then broke down.

“Shhhh, no darling, don’t cry. I know it is a lot to take. I am sorry I did not tell you. Talk to me, beta.” She rocked Khushi gently, prodding her to talk. Khushi sat up and rested her back on the headboard. She wiped her tears and sniffled a few times to clear her nose.

“Do Payal and Molly know? Is that why they hate me?” she asked.

“No, they don’t know. No one but Sasi and I know. And of course, the FBI agent knows now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she continued, as her fingers fidgeted with the soggy tissue paper in her hand.

“We were afraid for your safety. We didn’t want anyone to know. Dad was afraid if anyone found out, you will be killed just like your dad and his family were murdered. “

“How old was I when….?” She choked as she struggled to speak about her parents.

“Sarah died soon after you were born Khushi. She died of uterine hemorrhage, complications following child birth. You were with your aunt Martha in Zurich. We adopted you when you were 10 months old, that’s why you don’t remember anything. You dad, Mahinder and his family were killed in a road accident. But we think it was murder. And I’m afraid your identity is out and those very people are out here to hurt you.”

Garima steadied Khushi’s shoulder and lifted her chin. Khushi’s hollow eyes had suddenly grown dark circles under them. Garima couldn’t see her child suffer any more.

“Khushi. Dad and I love you, more than anything in the world. You are our daughter, more precious than anything in the world. Nothing and no one can replace your rightful place as our daughter. Do you understand?” she prodded.

Khushi nodded more as an acknowledgment of what was being said, than an acceptance of the truth in Garima’s words. Garima knew she would take some time to heal and come to terms with all the changes wrought on her.

“Whatever you decide to do, Khushi, we will stand by you. You are right if you feel angry at Dad and me for hiding this from you, but frankly after 28 years, we never thought this would come back to haunt us. We forgot it even existed. You were and are our daughter, that’s what matters the most. Don’t do anything drastic, if you want to be mad at anyone, be mad at us. Tell us what you feel.” She took another tissue ply and wiped Khushi’s face.

“I want you to eat some breakfast and come join us in the dining room.” She got up and tugged at Khushi’s arm.

“No, I can’t. I need some time. I can’t face anyone right now. “ She lowered her head to hide the fresh bout of tears. The two heard a knock at the door and found Shyam standing in the doorway.

Garima nodded to let him in and left the two of them alone to talk. Shyam’s nose was bandaged and a slight inflammation had settled in his orbits and cheek area. He sat next to Khushi and took her hand in his. She pulled her hand away.

“Khushi! Come on. You know I am with you, no matter what. And I don’t care about these attacks or the reasons behind it. I still want our arrangement to stick.”

Khushi glared at him. He was surprised at the intensity of her anger flaring through her eyes.

“How dare you?” she seethed. If he were shocked by her ferocity, it disappeared just as fast. He stood up and slipped his hands into the pocket of his trousers. His body relaxed and his next words came out with deliberate menace.

“You know Khushi, your attitude needs adjustment. You know what I can do to your family.” He bent and whispered into her ears as she looked away .

“You better not say a word to anyone, the agent, the officers or your family. Because if you play me, you know what I will do to your dad and that shitty career of his.” He straightened and noticed ASR at the door.

His face contorted at seeing the FBI agent. He decided to irritate ASR and bent down to kiss Khushi on her lips. She pulled back in horror and pushed him away. He smiled and looked at ASR, who was ready to maul Shyam by putting him through a meat shredder. Shyam walked out casually with a smile on his face, fully recognizing the effect he had on ASR. His parting words to Khushi were, “Hope you remember what I said, sweetheart. We can talk more, later.”

ASR shut the door gently. He wanted to rush in and scoop the girl into his embrace. He was aching to hold her and share her pain, but she was too emotionally fragile. She had after all discovered a devastating truth about her past and would need time to recover. He stood next to her for a few moments. Neither spoke anything.

He decided to start the conversation.

“Khushi, I know this is not easy for anyone. I am here as a friend, not as an FBI agent, if you want to talk.” He offered.

She sat motionless with her head cradled on her bent knees. She heard his words and knew he meant them. Ironically, he was the only friend she felt she had at this moment in her life. But she needed time to sort through the questions in her life. He deserved to know the truth and more importantly, she knew she had to do everything in her power to help him get to the bottom of this.

He stood in the room, feeling powerless to help Khushi. When she didn’t speak further, he left her alone.

*****

Back in the room, ASR opened his laptop and began sorting through the case files on Sabres. He was waiting for Kevin’s call on the contents of the box and information regarding Khushi’s mother Sarah Schwab.

He noted the facts he knew in a simple narrative to help him understand the gaps. When he finished his write up he knew he would need to meet Joseph Isaacson as soon as possible. He opened the clearance email from Kevin that detailed Isaacson’s number and address.

ASR rang the number in the file. The phone rang twice and was answered by a dignified erudite voice, “Hello, this is Joseph Isaacson, Curator of the Field Museum.”

“Hi Mr. Isaacson. This is FBI Agent Raizada, Kevin Calhoun must have spoken to you about my call.”

“Yes, yes, indeed. What can I do for you?” the old man’s voice shivered lightly with excitement.

“I’d like to meet you as soon as possible, as in pronto. When can I stop by?”

“Hmmm. Yes, we should talk. How about you stop by my house, say 4:30 pm tomorrow and we can talk.”

“Sounds good. I will be there with my partner, FBI agent NK. Merry Christmas, Mr. Isaacson”

The old man chuckled with nervous energy. The Sabres were an enigma he hadn’t fully solved in the years of his service as the curator of the museum. He was ready to do anything to discover the true meaning of the Sabre Tooth Tiger and its many cousins, the actual Sabres owned by the eleven royal families across the globe.

“What a story to tell the people of Chicago!” he gushed thinking of what the historical artifact could to the thrust his museum to fame. He got about wrapping his activities as fast as he old arthritic hands would allow him.

*****

(play the music for mood)

Henri Gutzmann was a patient man. One by one, he had taken care of each one of them.

The fucking, cheating, lying, blood-sucking royals of the world.

He wiped the corner of his mouth and summoned his housekeeper to clear the dinner from the table.  He had one last business to take care of before he died. He lit a cigar and took several puffs before he headed to the library. The old mansion stood alone as a relic from a distant past amongst the Swiss Alps. Its loner master had restored and renovated it but the evil in the air that hung like a dank odor served as a constant reminder to Henri. His mind wandered to that fateful day when he was a small boy, the day his dad Henri Gutzmann Sr. died.

“Henri, you better claim the Sabres and leave with us to Brazil.” The man in grey SS uniform thundered over a mug of beer.

“I am not leaving my Fatherland. I am not a slave to a madman’s rants. Hasn’t he done enough? The Fuehrer, Adolf Hitler my foot! He is a madman, a lunatic, and you are all crazy.” The young man sputtered as blood spewed from his mouth. Another blow landed on his face sending him unconscious. Henri Gutzmann Jr stood shivering behind his mom’s skits as she begged for mercy to spare her husband.

“Explain to your husband. If he stays, we all die a painful death.” The SS officer gulped his beer and slammed the mug on the crude country wooden table, cracking the glass. An attending uniformed guard threw some water on Henri Gutzmann Sr. to bring him back. His eyes were shut under thick swelling and his face sported grotesque purple scars.

“Henri, give me the details of the Sabres or I will just have to kill you.” The SS officer pressed the man’s wounded shoulders with his heavy paws, drawing a pained helpless cry that filled the small country cottage.

Henri gathered the last bit of courage in him and spoke for the last time.

“Reichsfuhrer Zimmerman, you will never lay your dirty Nazi hands on the Sabres, never!” He spit on the officer’s face. The officer straightened up and smiled.

Without further ado, Reichsfuhrer Zimmerman drew out his gun and pointed it at Henri’s forehead.

Bam!

The phone rang through the mansion bringing Henri Gutzmann Jr back from his past. He could not let the memory of his dad and the evil in the rooms of the mansion disappear. His dad, an unsuspecting bank clerk was brutally murdered for no fault of his. Henri Gutzmann Sr’s only offense was that he had accompanied the Swiss banker Mr. Schmid to the mansion on that fateful January day in 1940. His father died because he witnessed an evil in the mansion and threatened to go public on the heels of the war.

Henri answered the phone and heard the newly minted boss of the Jewish Mafia. He detested the man who had assumed the leadership of the worldwide Jewish Mafia operations. He expected this conversation to be unpalatable.

“I have the security tapes with me, you moron. What were you thinking sending your henchmen to access the account? Are you nuts?” Henri’s eighty year old body shook with anger as he frothed the words into the receiver. His wrinkled face contorted and he coughed a few times to draw air into his emphysemic  lungs.

“Gutzmann, need I remind you of the dirty game and your part in it? You will be sorry you ever spoke to me.” The voice was calm and threatening at the same time.

“Are you threatening me? Are you seriously threatening me? I am 80 years old, I have nothing to lose.”

“You don’t, but your family does. Remember that.” The call was disconnected.

Henri knew the man meant business. The mafia had accosted Herzog to his apartment to get the tapes and murdered him. Herzog’s secretary was their next victim. When she suddenly went on vacation after Herzog’s death, they followed her. Her dead body will probably remain unclaimed for weeks, frozen in the ice of the slopes somewhere in the outskirts of Zurich. The secretary was taken care of, but the Interpol investigation had just begun. Henri could not let an impetuous mafia get ahead of him.

He puffed his cigar and sat under the cloud of smoke. The first call from Dr. Gupta was quite serendipitous, confirming his doubts about Dr. Gupta’s daughter’s identity. Henri had spent years trying to locate the daughter who had disappeared into thin air like she never existed. The murder of her parents had been smooth but it dead ended when mafia couldn’t find anything about the Sabres. Later, when Dr. Gupta had first contacted the organization, he understood why they hadn’t been able to find the Sabre in the royal premises in Gwalior.

The bastard child had it on her.

Henri had wanted to wipe out the family during their short stay in Zurich but the SOS organization was stronger than his limited access within. The whereabouts of the family was a tightly held secret among a handful few.

Yet, he had breathed, lived, smoked, eaten and slept with one and only one purpose in life – to seek revenge for his father’s death, claim ownership of the Sabres and everything it stood for. The Jewish Mafia was just a tool for him, although lately, they were increasingly aggressive as the prize seemed within reach. If something happened to him, he had to have his chips in place to bring down the mafia with him. For now, he had to lie low and be safe.

Better late than never.

Henri had waited an entire lifetime but revenge did not come with an expiry date.

*****

ASR felt good after the hot shower. He changed into plaid Pajamas and quickly dried his thick black hair with the plush towel laid out in the guest bathroom. The shower had left him hot, not to mention the third floor guest room that remained incredibly hot, collecting the rising hot air though its vents. He decided to not wear his t-shirt until his body cooled off.

He pinched the skin on his abs with his thumb and index finger. He concluded that if he didn’t do something soon, the sumptuous food in the Gutpa household would get to his waistline soon. Although the eight packs still glistened proudly against his taut skin, he was itching for a good workout.

He sat on the bed and opened his laptop. He scanned his emails and opened the one from Kevin that was marked urgent. He found a list of inventory from the box Sasi had given to him. There were attachments of scans of handwritten notes found in the box. ASR read the list aloud.

List of Inventory

1. Letter of ownership for the Sabre Tooth Tiger sculpture

2. Letter from Mahinder Singh Chauhan

3. Swiss bank account details for Khushi Gupta alias. Khushi Sarah Schwab

4. Royal seal and a blueprint of the coat of armor of the royal family

5. Picture of sculpture

We found a number that belongs to a Henri Gutzmann Jr. living in Zurich. We have set a trace on the man with help from Interpol.

ASR opened the letter from Mahinder Singh Chauhan. There was nothing interesting in there other than the facts Sasi had already mentioned about Khushi and her mother.

The name Henri Gutzmann caught his attention. He was the SOS guy Sasi had mentioned. That was their best lead from the box. He began typing a response to Kevin when he heard a knock on his door.

He locked his laptop screen and set it aside. He opened the door and found Khushi standing outside the room. She was in a hideous and shapeless blanket-like robe that seems to make rounds as gifts during Christmas. He couldn’t control his smile.

She walked in uninvited and stopped in the middle of the room. She turned to face him and spoke in a very lucid voice, “I want the killers of Chameli found. I want the killers of Mahinder Singh Chauhan and his family found. I want those bastards to pay for it.”

Her bloodshot eyes highlighted the contrast of her grey greens, eyes that thirsted for blood and revenge.

“I want to put an end to this. I want the mafia to pay for this and I will do anything to keep my family safe. Can you help me, ASR?” She asked with determination he had never seen in her. Gone was the chirpy, confident woman, replaced by a woman who appeared no less lethal than a weapon. 

“Of course, Khushi. I want to get those bastards just as much as you do. I want someone to answer for Lana’s death and I want to protect you from any harm. We will do this together, I promise.” She broke into a weak smile at his assurances. Neither knew what more to say to make their respective pains go away. The silence was interrupted by the distant sounds of children ice skating on the frozen lake nearby, beckoning Christmas Eve.

The two stood staring at each other in the middle of the room. Neither spoke.

Then she stepped forward, closing in the physical distance between them. Her eyes sought answers in his caramel ones as she untied the waist of the blanket robe and pushed it off her shoulders. The material fell to the floor, leaving a beautifully naked Khushi for him to see.

“Kiss me, Arnav. Make me feel human again.” She pleaded. 

Chapter 14 - The Punchline

Dear Readers

Let me start by thanking you for your kind words of support, PMs, emails and skype messages. 

As a fan of the movie Lage Raho Munna Bhai, I plan to adhere to the principles of Gandhigiri and remain silent on the baseless accusations. Don't make the mistake of assuming my silence for weakness. Take it as my way of infusing some decency into madness. 

And just as Munna Bhai would famously say, I repeat after him - to my detractors, "Get Well Soon." 

SJ

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“She’s sleeping. I’ve given her medication to calm her, she should be able to get a few hours of sleep.” Sasi walked out of Khushi’s bedroom and announced to the eager set of eyes waiting outside. ASR was on the phone barking instructions to secure the perimeter of the property and install motion-sensor lights and security cameras.

“Kevin, I will call you back.” He disconnected the call.

“Hows she doing?” he asked Sasi.

“She should be good for the next few hours.” ASR nodded and peeked over Sasi to check on khushi. She was fast asleep.

“I will stay with khushi tonite.” Garima got up to be with Khushi.

“I will be right outside the room, if you need anything.” ASR added and excused himself to make a few calls.

“Kevin, hi, so what the hell just happened? Any leads on who was hawking the house?” he paced the foyer. Kevin’s voice was tired and impatient.

“Not sure, we are making our usual contacts with informants. Should be a few hours before we get any thing worth sharing. How about you? Did Dr. Gupta talk about the Sabres?”

“Yes, he did. Listen, I need you to contact Interpol to get some data on a certain Sarah Schwab. I will email you over the details later tonite. And I need you to clear our meeting with Joseph Isaacson.”

“The curator of Field Museum?” Kevin asked with rising curiosity.

“Yes, I have some information he might be able to help me sift through. Send the best detail here, things just got fucked up. I can’t let anything happen to Khushi.”

“ASR” kevin’s voice changed its timbre to worry.  

“Yes” ASR snapped impatiently

“Don’t get involved too personally. Remember, you are walking on thin ice here, don’t make me pull you off the case.”

“Is that you speaking as my boss?” ASR stopped pacing and asked

“Its me speaking as a friend.”

“Got it.” He snapped the phone shut and walked back to the family room where the family was gathered to commiserate.

“Ok, Dr. Gupta, and everyone here. I want no one coming in or leaving the house without notifying one of the agents stationed outside. I want no more phone calls, no more invites and no more confusion. If anyone has any objections or reasons they cannot follow these rules until we find out what happened to Chameli and what Khushi saw, speak now.” ASR’s authoritative voice boomed in the space.

Payal sniggered as she watched the FBI agent impose restrictions on her. She wished she were back in school, the partying would have been much more fun that remaining cooped up in the house for the unforeseeable future. Shyam was gritting his teeth, his silent phone vibrated stubbornly demanding his attention. He had to be out of the house but he had to make sure he spoke to Khushi before he left. He needed a few more hours before he was ready to answer his phone and let the calling party know his decision.

Chameli’s death had changed the atmosphere for the worse. ASR knew it was an act of warning to him and the agents that despite their best efforts, the mafia was never too far away. They were on to the FBI when they wanted and where they wanted, right under the FBI’s nose. The more ASR thought about it, the more incensed he felt at the violation. He had to make sure Khushi was safe first.

“Yeah about that. Can I have a word with you Agent Raizada.” Shyam piped in from the large couch he was sprawled on, “Alone.”

ASR did not like the sound of that. He watched Shyam’s body language with growing irritation. His hunch told him If there was a man with an agenda, it was Shyam but FBI sweeps on the man had come clean. Dr. Shyam Jha, chief surgeon of ER at one of the most prestigious hospitals of the country, was a rising star. The man had an impeccably clean life, stellar career records, no police charges, not even a parking ticket, an engagement with Khushi that seemed tailor made for fairy tales, and it smelled too good to be true. In fact, he was so squeaky clean that ASR had an ominous feeling about the man. He had to be hiding something.

“Sure, lets take it outside.” ASR was itching for a showdown and he found the perfect opportunity.

The two men got out of the house and stood in the snow on the patio. Shyam was building up a slow burn and wanted to throttle ASR for throwing a wrench in his plans. His eyes bored through ASR with unconcealed hostility.

“I am the future son-in-law of this house. So, as a person who is concerned with the security of the family, I have a right to know everything you know so far.” He laid it out as simply as he could for ASR.

“Oh really? FBI is not in the business of sharing information with anyone beyond protocol. I’m not here for your Kumbaya moment, I’m here to do my job.” He bit back, not trying hard to hold back his anger.

“Then do your job damn well, motherfucker!” Shyam’s temper bubbled through at last.

ASR’s ears turned red and the itch in his palm became unbearable. 

Shyam didn’t know what hit him. ASR connected a strong punch straight to the man’s nose.

“Ow!” Shyam screamed as he buckled over, cupping his nose, “You motherfucker, you punched, me Ow! Ow! Ow!" he danced around holding his nose in pain. "Fuck you! Aahh!” he bent over spewing a few more expletives directed at ASR. ASR looked satisfied with his punch, although secretly his knuckles hurt a bit. He leaned over Shyam and whispered.

“Just doing my job. Something I should have done a long time ago.” he smiled in satisfaction.

“You bastard, you will pay for this. Mark my words. Ow!” Shyam winced holding his bloodied nose oozing blood down his chin.

“Is that a threat?” ASR cocked his head and asked, “Because threatening an FBI agent is a misdemeanor.” ASR didn't wait to hear his reply, he wanted the satisfaction of getting the last word in, he dusted a speck of dirt off Shyam's shoulder and left.

“Bastard, motherfucking asshole. This ain't over!” Shyam was quickly running out of his repertoire of swear words.

*****

“Motherfuckers!” ASR swore as he entered his room. It was a complete mess, things had been pulled, thrown, scattered, opened and searched. Incredible!

He punched Kevin’s number.

“Yes, breach in my room. Do you have the box with you?”

“Yes, I do. Good thinking on your part sending it down to the office. I am telling you there is a mole in the mix. ASR, be careful.”

“Yeah, I will. Can you email me the inventory list and photocopy of any notes in the box? ASAP!”

“I’ve got three agents on it. You should be getting them soon.”

ASR knew the game had just gotten worse. Someone killed the poor dog to distract them, and had his room ransacked. Someone who was in the vicinity of the house – but who? The field agents, Sasi, Garima, Shyam, Payal or Molly? The task had just gotten harder for him. It was one thing to fight the outer forces and another to fight a mole.

*****

David put the peroxide on the bite marks.

“Damn you, motherfucker!” Noam spit out as the lotion zinged his wounds.

“The dog got you good. But really, you didn’t have to kill the animal.”

“The bitch deserved to die. And don’t go soft on me? The dog was a necessary distraction.”

“But we got nothing.”

“Nah! But I know where the agent is going next.”

“Where?”

“Time to pay our man Isaacson a visit.”

Noam smiled at the impending meeting with Joseph Isaacson. This was not the first time he had met the man. Twenty years ago, when he had first taken charge of the Sabre account, he had visited Isaacson on the pretense of a historical project for World War Two. He had subtly put the question of the Sabres and its historical significance. The man had been vague then. It was time to call his bluff.

****

Gitu kicked back and relaxed on her couch with a glass of red. NK was working on his laptop next to her and the TV hummed in the background playing latest episode of Dexter.

“So did you get me clearance to visit Khushi? I’d like to spend Christmas with them, they are like family to me.” She asked, feigning distraction to appear casual about her question.

NK’s ears perked. He decided to confuse her with a kiss. Gitu responded but extracted herself soon enough to not lose her train of thought.

“NK! Come on, tell me.” She pushed him away in mock anger.

He got up and stretched his back. He had to find out what was brewing in her head and where she stood on the issue. He wanted to play the fool to lower her guard and figure out her motives.

“Sweetheart, I’m the mood for a nice hot shower, care to join.” He winked.

She was not fooled by it. A chance to romp in the shower, knowing his sexual prowess was an invitation too tempting to refuse. She got up and followed him with a naughty smile.

Later, as the two lay exhausted on the bed, he dozed off. She got up and began tooling around his laptop.

She scrolled through his emails. Most of them looked uninteresting. Then she found what she was looking for. She opened the email and began jotting down the information on a piece of paper. She riffled through other email, searching for key words that would give her a clue about the information she was looking for. 

She was engrossed in transcribing the notes and didn’t notice an annoyed NK leaning on the wall, watching her intently. He cleared his throat.

She panicked and dropped the laptop. She stood up, her face washed in fear and looking every bit guilty.

“What are you looking for Gitu?” he asked casually, ambling over to her with carefully constructed ease.

“N…N..nothing!” she stuttered, crumpling the piece of paper she had in her hand and hiding it behind her.

“Now, now, you know just as well as I do, you are on to something. The question is, are we on to the same thing?”  He smirked with a glint of anticipation.

She wasn’t ready to take the hook. She shook her head in refusal.

“No? Then show me that piece of paper you got.” He took one large stride and had her wrists in his stronghold. She squirmed trying to free herself and clamped her fists tight. Her delicate fingers were no match for his and soon she found her piece of paper in his hands. He read the scratch paper and his face increasingly turned red.

He looked up and found her crying. He dropped the piece of paper and pulled her into a hug.

“Shhh, shhh, shhh sweety. Don’t cry. Why didn’t you tell me before? You should know we are on the same side of the equation. I’m with you. Do you understand?” He kissed the top of her head and gently rocked her to calm her down. 

Chapter 13 - Secrets in blood

(play the music for mood)

Sasi knew it was going to be a long evening of explanations. He needed a drink to make it happen.

“Drink?” he offered ASR.

“Yes, Bourbon, please”

Sasi poured them drinks and handed ASR his drink. He settled on the couch across the coffee table and continued.

“Khushi descends from the royal family of Gwalior. She is the daughter of Maharaja Mahinder Singh Chauhan, the grandson of the last monarch of Gwalior, His Royal Highness, Maharaja Ratan Singh Chauhan.”

“And who are her parents?”

Sasi quaffed the scotch and winced as the alcohol burnt his insides. He looked straight at ASR and decided the truth had to be told.

“She is the child of Mahinder Singh Chauhan and Sarah Schwab, born out of wedlock.”

“Wait!” ASR’s eyes widened as he heard a distinctly Jewish name

“Mahinder Sing Chauhan and Sarah Schwab.” ASR repeated, letting the unlikely combination sink into his psyche. “ So her father is the grandson of Maharaja Ratan Singh Chauhan and her mother is….a German Jew?” he posed it both as an observation and a question.

“Yes” Sasi clarified. His forehead creased as he recounted the heavy burden of secrets he had carried for years, now threatening to rip him apart with impunity.  ASR had formed a riot of questions but he knew he had to give the old doctor some time to formulate his responses. So he waited.

“Mahinder and I grew up together. After our college, Mahinder took over the management of business ventures and wealth of the royal family. As far as I can remember, my ancestors were under the employment of the Royal family of Gwalior from Ratangarh. In fact, Maharaja Ratan Singh Chauhan was my benefactor who funded my medical education and living expenses. The Guptas bear allegiance to the family for generations and I was no exception. I had sworn my allegiance to Khushi’s dad, Mahinder. Although Mahinder treated me as a peer and a friend, there was no doubt in my mind that if he ever called for it, I’d lay my life down for him and his family.”

“Ok, how did Khushi’s father end up having a bastard child?” ASR was impatient to cut to the chase.

“Don’t!” Sasi raised his voice slightly and waved a finger. “Don’t call her that. She is the rightful owner and heiress to the family fortune and the throne, the first born of Maharaja Mahinder Singh Chauhan. Don’t ever forget that.” He said with finality and authority, causing ASR to recoil in surprise.

“I….I am sorry, I did not mean any disrespect” he apologized to Sasi.

“Good, because no one should ever forget who she is, what she is and what her family has done for us. She comes from one of the richest royal families of India, one that exerted immense power, and were widely respected before Indian Independence. The Ratangarh branch was one of the most progressive monarchy of its times. Mahinder and his father, Madhav Singh before that, were tuned to the pulse of the people. Maharaja Ratan Singh was feared but his son Madhav and followed by Mahinder were respected and revered by the masses.”

“They gave up their kingdoms willingly to annexation to join the republic of post independent India. Madhav Singh and Mahinder Singh were widely eulogized for their egalitarian views and they shared their wealth. The wealth you see around me, the comforts my family enjoys – it belongs to Khushi’s family, passed on to us because we took the responsibility of caring for her.”

ASR nodded and accepted the old man’s reprimand as a reminder to be careful in future.

Sasi stoked the fireplace wood to reignite the fire, causing a few embers to fly out. He smiled sardonically, because his soul mimicked the fireplace, burning cinders and fly-away embers that were ready to burn everything too weak to withstand the fire. He fisted his left palm to find courage to continue. ASR observed the man fight his feelings but kept quiet letting him pace his story.

“The poor child got cheated of her rightful place. Stupid traditions, shame, secrets, everything went against her. I remember that fateful day like it happened yesterday.” Sasi’s eyes gazed into some distant past, flooding his conscious with memories.

“That day, Mahinder summoned me to his office. He appeared very disturbed and upset. All he told me was that he was to be away in Switzerland for six months and that during the time he was gone, I was to manage the family finances and keep my lips sealed about his whereabouts.”

“I see.” ASR spoke, not sure where the conversation was leading or how all this was connected to the Sabres. Sasi poured himself another drink and sat by the fireplace, continuing his reminiscence.

“Mahinder left the country for six months. We didn’t know where he was in Switzerland or why he was there. He called us once a week to let us know he was safe. Of course, Mahinder’s wife, Rani Suchitra was beyond grief because she didn’t know why Mahinder had chosen to disappear. I think Mahinder met Khushi’s mom during his time away at Switzerland.”

“What do you know about her mother?” ASR asked, his interest peaking at the potential connection between Khushi’s Jewish heritage and the Russian Jewish Mafia that was on their hot pursuit.

“Not much, I'm afraid. I never met Sarah. From what I know from Mahinder, she was a waitress at a café in Zurich and he had met her by sheer chance.” Sasi shook his head in disapproval and continued, “I don’t think Mahinder was truthful to me. I think he sought Sarah out. I don’t know why but I think his trip to Switzerland was connected to Sarah. I don’t think he intended to start a relationship with her or get her pregnant but I think whatever mystery he was hiding from us, it had something to do with Sarah.”

“I am curious too because Khushi’s mom is Jewish and the Russian Mafia’s Jewish wing seems to be behind the attack on Khushi. I think there might be a connection. I will ask Kevin to find out more about Sarah Schwab. Dr. Gupta, you have to promise to give me any documentation and information you have regarding Sarah Schwab. That is the key that connects all the dots.”

Sasi agreed and got up to open a locked safe in his library. He took out a wooden box, which had a brass lock and handed it to ASR.

“Everything I have from Mahinder is in this box. Read it after we finish here.”

ASR took the box and decided to open it later in his room. For now, he wanted to hear the rest of the story Sasi had to share.

“So Mahinder returned from Switzerland after six months. Did he tell you about Sarah then?”

“No, When Mahinder returned, he was a changed man. Something bothered him to distraction. On many occasions, he told me he felt like a thief and a fraud. I didn’t know what to make of it and didn’t feel it was my place to ask for further explanations but I could tell he was really struggling inside. He bequeathed every penny he had to others and my family was the biggest beneficiary for obvious reasons. He became increasingly sickly and gaunt, and at times I thought, somewhat delusional. He was fighting to keep some secret and eventually, he seemed to have lost the will to live."

"Rani Suchithra was worried about him and thought it was because she could not bear him an heir. She pressured him to adopt a baby boy, Karan, who was born to a distant cousin. But nothing seemed to help Mahinder. In any case, the house of cards toppled when a series of strange deaths and attacks began on people close Mahinder. He was paranoid and, if I may say so, genuinely scared.”

“Did he tell you who was behind the attacks?” ASR asked.

“No. But one day, out of the blue, he visited Garima and me with pressing urgency. He brought this box with him and asked us to keep it safe with us because he could not trust anyone in the palace. And then he asked us a strange question – whether we would be move out of the country to Switzerland in less than a week. Garima was pregnant with Payal at the time, but our loyalties were put to test and we felt compelled to agree. He asked us to keep our conversation a secret and promised to make arrangements for our visa, travel and stay in Switzerland.”

“A week later, he came in secretively and gave us our travel documents, tickets and address of the person we were to contact in Switzerland. He then told us about Sarah and Khushi. Sarah had passed on during child birth and Khushi was with her maternal aunt. We were to claim Khushi, pay her aunt a handsome amount in return and officially adopt her. Mahinder had made all the arrangements for us, paperwork, money, stay, contacts everything. I guess when you are connected, everything falls in place.”

Sasi paused to put his thoughts in sequence and continued, “Garima and I left the country for good, never to look back. Twenty seven years and counting” he sighed, a note of nostalgia played in his words.

“Once in Switzerland we claimed Khushi, who was ten months old at the time, and we began our stay in a small suburb of Zurich. Several months passed with no news from Mahinder. I tried contacting him but all my attempts were dead-ended. I began working in a pharmacy and we had Payal there. It was a difficult transition for Garima but she never complained. She showered Khushi her affections and raised her like her own. We are both aware of the grave responsibility and to this day we know, when the time comes, Khushi will have to rise to her calling, and be the princess that she truly is.”

“Anyways, many months passed with no news from Mahinder. Then we heard the news that Mahinder, his wife and their adopted son were all killed in a road accident.”

At that point, Sasi found it difficult to continue and paced the room to gain his strength. His legs didn’t agree and he slumped into the couch.

“It was a shock for us, suffice it to say. We knew the road accident was not an accident. Mahinder had always feared for the life of his family and he had made sure all the finances, wealth and anything meaningful was transferred to a bank in Switzerland under Khushi’s name, his first born. No one knew about Khushi and he knew that his heritage and lineage will be safe. The box you are holding has all the relevant paperwork and notes from him. When we had left India, he had told us not to open the contents unless something happened to him and his family.”

“And this box has the Sabre in it?” ASR prompted aloud wondering how a box of this size could hold a full-sized Sabre. Sasi nodded.

“Yes, the Sabre. But not in the traditional sense. It was a Sabre Tooth Tiger sculpture. Mahinder had made a note for me in the box and these were his words - A Sabre in spirit yet not quite.”

It began making sense to ASR. The Russian Jewish Mafia was after the Sabres. They chased after the twelve royal families that owned the Sabres except Khushi’s family had the sculpture and not an actual Sabre. She survived because they could not find the Sabre in her apartment or didn’t know where it was kept. 

Khushi was bequeathed a Sabre Tooth Tiger sculpture and not a Sabre! This was monumental; this had derailed the mafia and he knew, he could use the time to get to the bottom of the secret that the Sabres held. She would probably be safe until the mafia figured out that Khushi's family held a small sculpture and not a real Sabre.

“When Mahinder and family were murdered, I knew, it was a matter of time, before they got to us. I opened the box and found an SOS number inside the box and the sculpture. I was to call the SOS number in case something happened to Mahinder. I did and those people told us to hold on to the sculpture and helped us move to the U.S. And every few years, we kept moving, to escape detection and to distract anyone who might follow us. Suffice it to say, it was hard on Garima and the kids. I don’t know who those SOS guys are, but I know they were always helpful when we needed them, until now."

“Did they tell you why they could not help you anymore?”

“No, not really. The SOS contacts were quiet helpful until the attack on Khushi. I am not sure why they seem less than helpful now, Khushi’s identity is obviously out, and it’s a matter of time before they find the sculpture.”

“Who else knows about the sculpture? Where is the sculpture now?” ASR’s questions tumbled in quick succession, his excitement hardly under control.

“Garima, and the SOS contact. The sculpture is in the safe keep of the Field Museum of Chicago. I figured a museum would have the security and ability to guard it.”

ASR knew he had hit the jackpot. The museum curator, Joseph Isaacson was FBI’s art historian and could help decode any history related to the Sabre Tooth Tiger sculpture. He knew his next stop was Joseph Isaacson.

He had one final question for Dr.Gupta

“Does Khushi know about her parents?”

“No.”

ASR’s heart exploded. He knew she was going to be devastated by the news. He decided he would tell her only if it was absolutely necessary.

“Dr. Gupta, you have my word that I will not let Khushi know about any of this, unless absolutely necessary.”

Sasi looked tired. He pulled ASR into a hug, seeking reassurance. ASR’s words meant a lot for the old man who had borne the secret for far too long. He could only rue the secrets of the royal family, secrets from his own children and wife, secrets that hollowed him inside and brought danger to his doorstep. He was finally liberated, finding a youthful compatriot in ASR who could carry the burden forward for him, and do the right thing by his daughter. He saw the softening in ASR’s eyes when he spoke of Khushi and Sasi knew, at last that his daughter would be safe with ASR.

*****

Khushi stood rooted to her spot as she overheard the entirety of the conversation. Chameli was sitting comfortably coiled around her feet, waiting for her owner to make her move for a walk outside, in the snow. Chameli grew restless and nudged Khushi’s legs and then she dashed out of the back door. Khushi was unable to move, her legs were concrete refusing to listen as her mind instructed them to flee away from the secrets revealed behind the study door. She hated herself for eavesdropping on the conversation between her father and ASR.

Curiosity had gotten her to the study, but now, she just wanted to erase everything she’d heard, clean her slate and be whole again. Her eyes misted with tears and her ears rang with disbelief. The finale exposed the fears she had harbored as long as she could remember - the fear of being a pariah, a misfit, a stranger in her own house and the fears fell as realities on her like a ton of bricks. She was the bastard child of a royal, she was adopted, she was not her parent’s child, and she was a stranger among them. She wanted to disappear into thin air. She just wanted to run away.

She peeled her feet and dashed out of the rear door of the house. Chameli woofed playfully in the snow filled brick patio, chasing wild squirrels in the twilight. She barked, beckoning Khushi for a playful chase and dashed into the wooded back yard. Khushi ran, as fast her feet could take her following Chameli into the woods. The chilly wind hit her wet cheeks, but she was numb. She kept running, as FBI agents stationed on the edge of the property shouted and warned her to stop. She couldn’t hear anyone and Chameli led the way gleefully, deeper into the wooded forest preserve. FBI agents alerted ASR as he headed into his guest room.

Oh Shit! She must have heard everything.

He placed the box in his briefcase, locked it and kept it under the bed away from plain sight. Then he rushed downstairs.

“Which way did she go?” he asked an agent as he ran out of the house, into slushy snow gathered around the house. Agents who were searching the area with flashlights pointed in the direction Khushi had run.

“Khushi, come on, don’t do this again.” He pulled out his gun and ran into the woods.

Twigs, branches and dry brush crushed under his feet as he rushed deeper into the darkness.

He heard an animal yelp in pain.

“Chameli!” he figured and rushed in faster. Another painful squeal of the animal shattered the dull winter breeze. A loud cry followed, this time that of a woman.  It was Khushi.

“Khushi!” ASR shouted and frantically waved his flashlight in every direction to find her. He located her at the far end of the wood near a frozen creak. She was on her knees and leaning over something. She screamed again.

He ran to her and knelt beside her. He found Chameli in a pool of blood, its throat slit. The soft snow around the animal was spattered with blood. Khushi was shivering uncontrollably partly from the shock and partly from hypothermia.

“Its my fault, everything’s my fault!” she scooped the dogs body and held it close to her, bawling in pain. Blood covered her hair and face but she didn’t seem to care. As Chameli struggled to breath and wheezed in pain, Khushi went into spasms. The dog’s head rolled to its side, as it breathed its last.

“She’s gone, Chameli’s gone. Its my fault, its all my fault. Chameli’s gone!” she screamed. ASR felt her diaphragm paralyzing in fear and shock and he knew if she did not recover, she would fight for breath. He shook her wildly, and patted her cheeks, “Khushi, look at me. Control yourself.”

“She..she…she’s gone….its….my…..fault…” she wailed again.

Other agents rushed in with a blanket and covered Khushi. ASR helped her to her feet but her legs gave away. He lifted her and carried her to the house.