Page 62 of The Secret Keeper of Jaipur

Auntie-Boss patted the sofa cushion next to her. “Come sit, Manu-ji. Please. You’re making me dizzy.” He pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose and did as he was told, suddenly contrite.

“What Malik found is nothing you would ever have discovered yourself. You’re an overseer. It’s not your job to scrutinize details such as receipts and invoices. Your people report to you. They come to you with summaries of what they’ve done. You listen, question and discuss, then sign off on what they’ve recommended.”

“Are you saying that my people—my handpicked staff—could have been lying?”

She had put her hand on his shoulder, as if she were talking to a younger brother. “Your employees have been with you a long time. Naturally, you trust them to do the right thing. Perhaps their recommendations in this instance were based on information that was incorrect? And, having worked with Singh-Sharma so long, you’ve come to trust them, too. Nothing you were aware of would have made you think that they were doing anything...untoward.”

Manu was staring at the Persian rug beneath his feet. He puffed up his cheeks and blew out air, as if letting go of something. He turned to Lakshmi.

“This—alleged—conspiracy. Tell me that isn’t just your way of getting back at Samir Singh for that business between Radha and Ravi. Retaliation for the way he left you in a lurch.”

I could tell that Auntie-Boss hadn’t seen this accusation coming, but she didn’t hesitate to answer. “Don’t even think it,bhai. All of that is in the past. I never waste a minute dwelling on it. But the pastdoescolor my impression of that family and the things they’re capable of. If you look at what Malik has found, you might conclude they bear some measure of responsibility for all that’s happened.”

Manu looked conflicted. He frowned at me. “Samir paid for your education at Bishop Cotton. Don’t you owe him any loyalty? How could you accuse his company of fraud and recklessness when Samir opened doors for you?”

Manu looked so lost; I wished that I had words to help him. He was no longer in control of what was happening around him. He’d been raised to never question his superiors. Since he’d always been an honest broker, he couldn’t imagine that others might not be the same. For fifteen years, the royal family had employed him. He’d sooner cut his arm off than question their decisions or blame them for anything inappropriate.

“I would never make such a charge lightly, Uncle,” I said as gently as I could. “But I know what I saw, and it’s wrong for the palace to terminate you for something you didn’t do. The Singhs may buy a lot of favors, but I don’t consider myself one of their purchases. Samir Singh paid for my education to make amends for the heartache his family caused Auntie-Boss. What happened twelve years ago forced her to leave Jaipur and abandon her successful henna business. I never asked Samir to pay for anything. And I won’t be indebted to him because he chose to do that. My only loyalty is to you, to Kanta Auntie, to Auntie-Boss and to Nikhil.”

Manu looked chastened. I could see we were starting to get through to him. He stood up and started pacing the room again, this time more slowly. He was pulling at his lip, deep in thought.

Auntie-Boss sent me a look.Just wait.

Finally, Manu said, “I can’t condone what you’re doing. I still have a code of ethics to honor. But as long as I’m not aware of how you go about making your case, I promise not to get in the way.Theek hai?”

I go straight from the post office to the Agarwals’ to show the telegram to Auntie-Boss.

Lakshmi looks over the telegram, before she says, “So Chandigarh Ironworks supplied class four bricks when they were supposed to supply class one. What’s the difference in quality?”

“Class four are used for decorative purposes. Not for load bearing. Never should have been used on the cinema project.”

She reads the telegram again. “And the quantities noted here—for bricks and cement—they were reversed in the ledger?”

“Also on the doctored receipts.”

She sets the telegram on the Agarwals’ coffee table.

“The more I think about it, Malik, the less I think Samir initiated the fraud. He’s involved in it, but I think it started with someone else. It didn’t take a great deal of effort for you to identify the discrepancy. Samir has been in business a long time, and he has a lot to lose. He’s not an amateur. The palace is not his only client. His company has taken on several contracts outside of Rajasthan. Why would he risk ruining his reputation?”

I agree. I think back to Ravi telling me how his father is old-school. Ravi has grander plans for his future. He told me he doesn’t want to keep doing things the same way his father has always done them. What does he consider to be a more innovative way of doing business? Substituting inferior materials but charging full price and pocketing the difference? The palace pays well, but Ravi isn’t satisfied? He already lives in a mansion. He has a beautiful, clever wife who adores him. What more could he want?

Lakshmi sighs. “Let me take it from here.” I hear the resignation in her voice when she says, “Can you get word to Samir that I need to see him? As soon as possible.”

23

LAKSHMI

Jaipur

I’m standing in front of my old house in Jaipur—the one I built with money I earned from thousands of henna applications, my herbal lotions and healing oils. Parvati Singh bought my house from me when I left Jaipur—an apology of sorts for destroying my livelihood.

The hibiscus bushes that line the edge of the property are neatly trimmed, the grass in the tiny front yard freshly mowed and dewy. The windows sparkle in the evening light as if they’ve recently been washed. Parvati might have let the house to renters, but somehow I think not. It has a cared-for look—like a museum piece, ready to be displayed before admiring eyes.

Earlier today, Samir sent a messenger to the Agarwals asking me to meet him here. He wouldn’t have had time, since then, to make the house presentable, or spruce it, and so I wonder who’s been taking care of it. The tiny, single-story building is nothing special on the outside. It’s what’s inside that matters; that’s what persuaded Parvati to buy the house from me.

“So glad you’ve come.”

I turn at the sound of a woman’s voice.

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