Vanished (22 page)

“This room is like a jail cell,”
Pavi announced. “Not even a crummy trick ceiling.” They seemed to be locked in a storage room for instruments. There were several veenas, a few violins, and a guitar; some inside cases, others on a table to be repaired. There was also a desk with a small shelf over it. But there were no windows, no phone, and no other door that led to a way out.

“I can't believe Mohan got away with the veena,” Lynne said.

“I don't understand; was it Mohan all along?” Pavi asked. “How did he get the veena from Lynne? I thought it was mailed to the store.”

“It was,” Neela said. “And Mohan has to be the one who mailed it. Remember, he was in Boston last month. And he was at the photo shoot. When he saw the veena, he stole it and mailed it back to India, only he used my name so it wouldn't be traced back to him.”

“Why mail it?” Lynne asked.

“Did you notice how big a veena is?” Pavi asked.

Neela nodded. “He couldn't have carried it on the plane without drawing attention. It's too huge. But the bigger question is, why Mohan? Why this veena? And what about the curse?”

Pavi sighed. “Neela, you still don't believe in that curse, do you?”

“The veena did come back to the store,” Neela said.

“But if the curse is true,” Pavi said, “the veena should come back again. In fact, maybe if we wait it out, the veena will be here tomorrow. And maybe it'll bring me a large Coke.”

Lynne giggled. “The article my grandfather read didn't mention anything about beverages.”

“Did your mom know about the curse?” Neela asked.

“She had to,” Lynne said. “She was paranoid about losing her instrument. She never explained why, but it was always with her, even when she traveled. My grandfather decided later it was because of the curse. And even though it sounded crazy, that's why Grandpa called the store a few days ago. Just to see if the curse was true. And sure enough, the veena was back.”

“That's how I found out the veena was here, too.” Neela stared thoughtfully at Lynne. “And yet, Mohan doesn't seem to think it will happen. I mean, why lock up a bunch of girls and run off with the veena if he thought it would come back
here
.…It's like something is different this time.”

“Yeah, we're locked up in his store,” Pavi said. “That's what's different.”

“Not just that,” Neela said. “It's clear that Mohan doesn't believe in the curse.”

“Well, he's not the only one,” Pavi said. “Look, this conversation is fascinating, but it isn't helping us get out of here.”

“You're right,” Neela said. “And we
have
to find a way to get that veena back. Which means finding Mohan.”

“But he could've gone anywhere,” Pavi said.

“Maybe he's leaving the country,” Lynne said forlornly.

“We'll worry about that later,” Neela said. “Let's see if there's a way out.”

“Did that,” Pavi said.

“Well, let's do it again. Maybe there's something we've missed.”

For the next several minutes, the girls focused on the room. Not a single spot was overlooked. Lynne pored over the desk. Pavi searched the table area where the instruments were being repaired, while Neela turned her attention to the door.

It was an ordinary wooden one with a brass knob. She jiggled the knob. Then she examined the frame to see if there were any cracks. Nothing. She frowned. There had to be a way. Unless…She remembered that day in the church office with Matt, and the sound of the credit card whizzing along the door. She had never done it herself, but it was worth a try. Only she had no credit card. What else could she use? She rifled through her backpack and found the half-finished box of Cracker Jack. As soon as she saw it, a lightbulb went on in her head. She pulled out the box and dug through what was left of the sticky caramel popcorn.

“How can you eat at a time like this?” Pavi asked. “I thought we were searching.”

“Just a sec,” Neela said. She found the shiny cover and pulled out the baseball cards: Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez, and Hideki Matsui. The cards fit easily in her hand. They weren't exactly credit cards, but they were almost the same size. She inserted Derek Jeter's card between the door and frame. “Too thin,” she said. She added Hideki Matsui and stuck them both back. “Better.”

“What are you doing?” Lynne asked.

“Oh my God, are you going to slide open the lock?” Pavi was excited.

Neela ran the cards up carefully against the door jamb and felt it resist. “It's not giving.”

“Try it again,” Pavi said. “Do it more quickly.”

This time Neela ran it up fast and as hard as she could. In the room all three girls heard the distinct sound of a click inside the door as the catch gave.

“Yeah!” Pavi shouted.

Neela grinned and leaned against the door, which swung open. “Come on,” she called to Lynne, who had her head inside the large bottom drawer of the desk.

Lynne poked her head out, an intent look on her face. Her hand was inside the drawer, feeling around for something. She concentrated, tugging with her hand. “There, I got it off. There's a false bottom in here.”

Pavi and Neela hovered over her as Lynne pulled out two items from inside the drawer. “They were hidden underneath this insert.”

They looked through them quickly. One was a tattered book titled
A Chronology of Veena Makers of Thanjavur
. The other was an old photograph wrapped in oilskin.

“Let's
go
,” Pavi said. “We've been here long enough. That's just another place for storing things.”

“No, it's definitely a hidden compartment,” Lynne said.

“Pavi's right,” Neela said. “We have to go. Ravi's been outside all this time.” She stared once more at the book and oilskin cover, then made a decision. “But let's bring them. Maybe they're clues.” Lynne put them both in Neela's backpack.

When they got outside, Ravi was more than just mad. “Where have you been?” he shouted. “I wait one hour, and no sign of you!”

“Ravi, I'm so sorry,” Neela apologized. “It was all a terrible mistake.”

“What do you think, I am some idiot who likes to sit in a car while you goof off in your fancy music store?” he seethed. “Or maybe you think my home is lined with five-hundred rupee notes, and I drive your grandparents around for fun. Better yet, I was
hoping
to get sacked today.”

“Ravi, please, you've got to believe there was a good reason,” Neela pleaded. She quickly told him about how she and her friends had been locked up in the back room of the store.

“Locked up? What's going on?” Ravi looked shocked. “What kind of present are you buying for your parents?”

Neela shook her head. “There is no present. It's too hard to explain. But we've been trying to find my lost veena, and now the man who locked us up has taken it away, and we don't know where he's gone.”

“A man?” Ravi repeated, still glowering. He became silent. “Well, there was a man about twenty minutes ago that came out of the store.”

“Yes? What did he look like?” Neela breathed.

Ravi shrugged. “A fancy kind of man, he smelled like perfume. I wouldn't notice him except he had something tall and big that looked like a potato sack with wheels.”

“That was Mohan—with my veena.” Neela was excited. “Did you see where he went?”

Ravi shook his head. “I didn't. But
he
did.” He pointed to a man in an auto that had pulled up to the stand behind their car. “Looks like he just came back from dropping him off somewhere.”

Neela regarded the auto driver, a lean, unshaven man with thick bushy hair, dressed in a dirty yellow uniform and chewing on a thin cigarette. “Ravi, do you think you could ask him where he took Mohan?” Neela pleaded.

Ravi glared at her. “Give me one good reason why I should talk to some random auto guy when your parents must be worried sick at home.”

“Because I really have to find out where Mohan went with the veena,” Neela said. “Don't you see? He wouldn't have locked us up if that veena wasn't so important. But it doesn't belong to him, he
stole
it, and that auto guy might be our only chance.”

Lynne came forward. “I don't know Tamil, but maybe you can understand this.” She bent down on her knees and looked at Ravi with her hands clasped. “Please help us.”

Ravi stared at her. “What is this girl doing? Up, up, the ground is dirty.” He made a motion with his hands to stand up.

Pavi knelt next to Lynne and did the same. Neela joined them.

“Please?” Neela pleaded.

Ravi looked at three pairs of imploring eyes. “Get up, all of you. Dear God, I hope today I am not fired.”

Neela and the girls watched as Ravi spoke at length to the auto driver. Both of them spoke in rapid-fire Tamil, so it was impossible for Neela to tell what anyone was saying. After a moment, the driver nodded vigorously, pointing his finger down the street. He spoke for another minute or two. When he was done, Ravi slipped something in his hand.

“You bribed him?” Neela asked when Ravi got back.

“
Ayo
, not bribing, just greasing the path to information.”

Neela felt a stab of guilt. “I will pay you back for—”

He waved his hand. “Forget it. So, you want to know what this fellow said?”

Neela held her breath. “Oh, Ravi. Where did Mohan go?”

“Can you drive faster?”
Neela implored from the backseat. If what the auto driver said was true, it meant they only had twenty minutes to stop Mohan from catching the five o'clock train to Thanjavur.

“Missie, it's a good thing I'm not driving you straight home for giving me a heart attack,” Ravi shouted. Now that they were on their way, Neela knew he was just saying that to get some more scolding in, not because he wasn't going to help her.

“Where is Thanjavur, anyway?” Lynne asked.

“South, very old city,” Ravi answered in English. Neela marveled at the level of English he actually knew.

“But if Mohan leaves, we'll never find him,” Pavi said.

“Unless we stop him,” Neela said. “But first, there must be some way to contact Govindar. I have his phone number with me but no phone.”

“You can use mine,” Ravi said. He handed her his cell phone.

“What are you going to say?” Lynne asked while Neela dialed. “Your son locked us inside your store, and now he's headed to the station?”

“Something like that,” Neela said.

Govindar's phone rang several times until the answering machine kicked in. Neela heard the beep and decided it was better to leave him something. “Hi, this is Neela Krishnan. We came to meet you in the store today, but your son, Mohan, tried to stop us. He is now headed to the train station. We are trying to stop him. I thought you should know.” She hung up the phone.

Pavi stared at her. “What kind of message is that? You didn't even say anything about him locking us up.”

“Or the veena,” Lynne added.

Neela shrugged. “I didn't want to accuse his son on the machine. Kind of awkward.”

“But he really did lock us up!” Pavi exclaimed.

“Details,” Neela said. She opened her backpack. “Now we just have to figure out what these things are.” She pulled out the book and photograph. The photograph was obscured by the oilskin cover, so Neela carefully undid it.

“Oh,” Lynne exclaimed when Neela was done. The photograph was black and white and seemed very old. It was of a woman veena-player seated on a rug on the floor. “Do you mind?” Lynne took the photo from Neela. “It looks just like some of my grandfather's old photographs on my father's side.” She turned it over gingerly.
Parvati, Mysore Palace, 1903
, it read.

“Parvati,” Neela said. Lynne turned the photograph back to the front. Parvati was dressed in a traditional sari, with her hair in a long braid, covered in flowers, and diamond earrings, a necklace, and a nose ring adorning her face. She held a veena across her arms and looked very serious. “Is it the same veena?” Neela asked, squinting. “Looks like it, but it's hard to tell.”

Lynne nodded. “I know from what my grandfather told me, people didn't get many photographs taken back then. See, this was taken at the Mysore Palace. It must have been commissioned. She must have performed there.”

Ravi suddenly slammed the brakes, causing the girls to jerk forward.

“Sorry,” he cried, glancing back at them to see if they were okay. Neela looked at the road and saw a flock of goats crossing in front of them. “Stupid farmers,” Ravi muttered. “They act like they're still in the village. What, they don't notice twenty lorries coming down the road? Not to mention, me?”

When the car began to move again, Neela turned her attention to the book. The binding was coming apart at the seams, so she opened it carefully. “Look, it's printed in Thanjavur in 1948.” As she thumbed through the pages, Lynne kept looking at the old photograph, murmuring to herself.

“I love photos,” she said. “There's so little I know about my mom. Even though my grandfather went ballistic with this whole veena thing, he hardly ever talks about her or my dad. So all I have are photos.”

“Is that why you wanted a camera?” Neela asked.

Lynne nodded. “I was always interested in photography. But I've never really had a good camera…until now.” She flushed. “My grandfather isn't, uh, well off. He gets some money from his retirement, but it's not a whole lot, so we're always trying to save up. Also, he doesn't believe in buying ‘expensive gadgets.' That's why we don't even have a computer.”

“You don't have a computer?” Pavi tried to keep the astonishment from her voice. Neela knew that, for Pavi, a computer was like an additional limb.

“Yeah. It's really annoying. I can't go on the Web except at the library. I have to do everything by hand or type it out in the computer lab.”

Neela thought for a moment. “So that's why you were looking up your mom in the library that day.”

“Yeah. I wanted to see if I could find out more about her veena, and if the one my grandfather took was really hers or not.”

“Hey,” Pavi said, “was that rock with the newspaper cutout note from you?”

Lynne looked sheepish. “I had to think of something to make you stop asking around at the church. By then the veena was stolen again, and I didn't have it to give back to you.”

“And I guess you misspelled ‘consequence' on purpose,” Neela said.

Lynne nodded. “I also made the boot prints with my grandfather's snow boots.”

“And the teakettle!” Pavi exclaimed.

“Oh, right,” Neela said. “Wait, that was you, too?”

Lynne sighed and nodded again. “You know Mary, right?”

“The church office woman,” Neela said.

“Yeah, well, she's not just that. She's my grandfather's cousin. Twice removed or something.”

Pavi hit her head with her hand. “You're kidding. Who else are you related to? Mohan?”

“Very funny. That's how we know about the church, and why my grandfather started volunteering there, because he knew Mary. In fact, we used her address for the school so I could switch districts. She didn't like the whole idea at first, but finally agreed to it.”

“So she knew Hal took the veena?” Neela asked.

“No. But as soon as you came by and described what happened, she suspected him.”

“And the teakettle? Did your grandfather take it?”

“No,” Lynne said, squeezing her eyes shut. “That was me. I hid it inside the kitchen to make it look like it disappeared. I thought it would throw everyone off Grandpa's track. Because Mary knew he wouldn't take the teakettle. I'll have to return it to her when I get back.” She looked at Neela. “I'm sorry. I guess I've created a mess. I can see why you'd be so mad at me.”

Neela thought for a moment. “Actually, I'm not mad anymore. Because we're chasing down the real thief in India now. Together. Though who would have guessed?”

They smiled at each other.

Neela returned her attention to the book. It was exactly as the title said, a chronology of veena makers. She didn't recognize a single name until she came to a section on Guru, bookmarked with a slip of paper.

And just like that, an idea formed in Neela's head.

“Of course!” she said. “I know what Mohan had this
book for.”

“What are you talking about?” Pavi asked. “Tell us!”

“I—” Neela started, and then before she could say more, she glanced out the window and saw the clock tower of the train station rise before them. “I don't believe it,” she said. “We're
here
.”

It was a Saturday evening, and the Central Train Station was jam-packed with people. Neela kept her eyes open, searching for signs of Mohan, as she and the rest of the group headed for the Thanjavur platform.

She'd had no chance to explain herself, because at that moment, Ravi pulled into a parking spot, and they all had to jump out of the car immediately. Now they were inside, she had a moment to think, and the conversation she'd had with Tannenbaum a few days ago came rushing back to her. Mohan the veena expert, Mohan who wanted to be a musician, and Mohan who said the veena was a dying art—he was after the same answer as Veronica Wyvern, all these years later!

How it fit with the curse and the veena returning to the store, she still didn't know. But she would worry about that part later. Right now, they had to find Mohan.

Just then, Neela spotted a figure up ahead dragging something along the floor that was nearly his size, a shape so familiar she caught her breath. “Hey!” she shouted. She started running toward Mohan, jumping over someone's suitcase and almost running head-on into a man carrying a hen inside a wire cage.

As soon as Mohan saw her, he took off in the opposite direction. Faster and faster he ran, weaving in and out of people drifting along the platform, the veena case rocking wildly behind him. He moved on, heading toward a train that was about to depart. To her horror, Neela saw that it was a train bound for Thanjavur,
his
train, and he was only a few feet away. With his speed he would make it to the train before they did. Neela willed her legs to move faster, as on the days she raced to class, but this time she had to make it count. He was almost there. She could see Lynne and Pavi now in her periphery, dodging passengers, all of them scrambling to beat Mohan to the train.

With a burst of speed, Neela tore down the last few yards, just as Mohan climbed aboard. Without thinking, Neela leaped onto the steps of the train car.

Mohan stared at her in surprise. “Get off the train!” he said. “You have no ticket.” He stood between her and the veena case.

“Give me back my veena,” Neela said. “You're stealing it!”

“Suit yourself,” he declared. “They'll kick you off soon enough.” With that he turned to enter the car, but Neela lunged forward to grab on to the hard plastic shell of the case. Around them, she heard the sound of the train whistle.

“Let go!” Mohan hissed. With a monstrous heave, he pulled the veena out of her hands, sending her reeling. She took a step back to steady herself and suddenly felt the ground disappear under her. She had fallen into the gap between the train and the platform, with her upper half still inside the train and her legs dangling over the edge.

“Neela!” Pavi shouted from the platform. “Get out of there! The train's about to start.”

Neela tried desperately to gain a foothold. Her hands clawed the floor while she scrambled to stand up. Beneath her, she saw the ground starting to slide away, and felt the edge of the platform grazing the back of her legs. The train had started to move.

On the platform, Pavi screamed, “Stop the train!” By now, a small audience had formed a circle around Pavi, watching in horror as the train began leaving the station with a young girl wedged in between the platform and train. “Stop the train!” everyone shouted.

Neela felt dizzy, her fingers unable to catch a hold of anything on the cold, metallic floor of the train compartment. Then suddenly she saw a pair of black buffed boots standing squarely in front of her, as two powerful arms pulled her up in one swift motion and planted her, feet-first, on the floor that had been inches from her face only seconds before. She stared up at a tall man with carefully combed hair, a groomed mustache, and a double-breasted uniform with shiny buckles and stripes on the arms. He was the train's ticket collector.

“Are you okay?” he asked in Tamil.