The Acquaintance Read online

  Rizwan loved children and if she played her cards right, she could trip him up. And the only way to do that right now was to threaten his children. It was a huge gamble and Nargis wasn’t sure if Rizwan would take the bait, but she had to try. “Mr. Zaid, if you don’t help us, we will have to recruit one of your students to help us.” Nargis watched as his carefully composed façade crumbled under her glare. It was quite a satisfying sight to see. “You’re bluffing.”

  “Try me”, said Nargis fiercely. She was not going to let him belittle her. He looked at her, his gaze searching for an opening, for a weakness he could exploit. Trying to figure her out. Good luck buddy. A lot had changed since they last saw each other. He seemed to come to the same conclusion. His shoulders sagged, but he gave a wry smile, Nargis tensed. “It’s easy for you to threaten children when you can’t have any of your own. That’s why god in his infinite wisdom made you barren.” The blood drained from Nargis’ face. She couldn’t believe he had just said that, no matter their history, there were some lines you didn’t cross. Nargis composed herself, trying to appear nonchalant. She couldn’t let him see that he had rattled her. She still needed to have the upper hand in this exchange or all would be lost.

  Maybe she wasn’t the only one who had changed over the years.

  “You see Ms. Hussein”, he paused, the smile widening. Nargis knew what he was about to do. “It is Ms. Hussein isn’t it…oh wait it isn’t because as I recall you’re still Mrs. Zaid.” Nargis sucked in a sharp breath. But before she could respond, Ram had barged into the room. Nargis stared in shock as he grabbed Rizwan by the lapel and flung him across the room. He grabbed his arm. Nargis heard a sickening crunch followed by a deafening scream. The scream cut through the fog in her head and she stood up. She was furious now. “Agent Ram got out”, she yelled, dragging him off the cowering figure. Ram resisted, “He’s wasting our time, give me five minutes with him and I’ll make him sing like a canary”, he spat. Ram was heaving, he cut a deadly figure, his hulking body towering over hers. “Get out”, she said, locking eyes with him. Her tone left no room for debate. He left, banging the door on the way out with such force that it made her flinch. She bent down and handed Rizwan a handkerchief but made no effort to help him up. He wiped his nose and got to his feet. Nargis was pleased to see that the unexpected assault had unnerved him. He was visibly cowed as he took his seat. He nursed his arm, which was still in its socket. Nargis felt a pang of disappointment.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “We need to know where Shahzad is?”

  “And what makes you think I know where he is? I am a school teacher. I don’t have links with terrorists.” He had tears in his eyes as he looked at Nargis. “I may have done some unforgivable things in the past but I have been trying to make up for them ever since.”

  Nargis exhaled, finally the opening she had been waiting for. She leaned in and took his hands in her own, Rizwan was visibly shocked but he didn’t pull away. “If that’s true tell me how I can find Shahzad. I know you have a way of contacting him.”

  Rizwan looked at their intertwined hands, his mind working furiously. Nargis wondered what he was thinking. Would she have to threaten his children again. That would be too much of a gamble, Rizwan knew her well enough to know that she would never harm an innocent child. “I teach middle-school children. I don’t know how any of them could help you track down a terrorist. You’re wasting your time. To my knowledge, none of my children are or have ever been in contact with terrorists. The depths of your desperation is ludicrous.” He leaned in. “I would like to know how you made the leap between a notorious terrorist and my students? No one in their right mind would even consider such a thing. What made you come up with this creative theory that jeopardizes the safety of children I wonder. It couldn’t be hatred for children in general could it? I mean this theory seems too far-fetched for that. You see what I’m asking you is, what or who helped you make this for lack of a better word, insane connection between my children and Shahzad?” Nargis didn’t flinch, he had shown his hand, he wanted to know her source. “Rizwan, we will find her, either you can help us and be there for her. Or we can cut you loose and track her down ourselves and there is nothing you could do about it.” The overhead light flickered as both Nargis and Rizwan sized each other up. Each trying to call a bluff and assess a gambit. It was an intricate game of Poker and Chess they were playing. The opening salvo had been hers. The next move would be his. Nargis could feel the seconds tick by as Rizwan sat in silence. He had all the time in the world. She suspected he knew that. Nargis debated whether to call Ram in to speed up the process but thought better of it.

  Rizwan looked at her, “You were always a vault weren’t you Nargis? Locked up tight and safe. With all your secrets hidden from the world. No one actually got to see the real you. I thought I had broken through those barriers but I was wrong.”

  “What are you talking about?”, Nargis hated herself for being baited like this but she just couldn’t help it. “You never really wanted to marry me did you?” Nargis smiled. “Deflecting and stalling will only make it harder on you Mr. Zaid.”

  “Do you think I don’t know about your melt-down when you almost amputated your finger to get our engagement ring off your finger.” The words were a slap to the face. But Nargis did not betray any emotion even though she felt like crawling out of her skin. “Now I’m not going to pretend like you don’t know more than you are letting on. But I wonder if my replacement, agent Ram was it? Would take too kindly to being lied to.” Nargis had enough. She looked at his hands. His fingers were long and thin, his nails had been filed, clean and immaculate. She caressed the ring finger on his right hand. His dominant hand. She could feel the burn marks on his fingers. He looked at her triumphantly. She matched his gaze and pulled. Rizwan’s scream drowned out the satisfying sound of the bone in his ring finger snapping like a twig.

  “You bitch”, he howled. Nargis let go and watched as he tried to relocate his broken finger. Unfortunately his hands were cuffed too far apart, making it impossible for him to join his hands. She could have fixed that finger if she wanted to but she wouldn’t. He watched as he wept, his right hand shaking with pain. That finger was lost. “Now where were we?”, she said amicably. Rizwan spat at her. “You have three more fingers Mr. Zaid, but I only need to break one to make that entire hand useless”, she said taking his right thumb in her hand. His little finger had been merely decorative after being broken during their first meeting.

  “Stop, please”, begged Rizwan, all the fight had gone out of him. He had not expected this level of violence from her. Nargis caressed his hand, her long fingers ebbing and flowing between his fingers and his wrist. “You’re right. I haven’t been entirely forthcoming. But I swear to you I didn’t know who she was. It was only after I brought her here did I learn the truth.”

  She. Shahzad’s point of contact was a girl. If she had come here on cobbled documents, her legend would be untraceable. She was here under an alias. And only one man knew what it was. Torture could only go so far on a masochist like Rizwan. “Who is she Rizwan?”, said Nargis.

  CHAPTER 16

  It was late in the evening as Nargis sat at the window typing furiously on her laptop. The Delhi deluge was pelting the glass pane but Nargis barely took notice. Finals were next week and her lecture notes had some glaring gaps that she hadn’t noticed before. The coffee mug on her desk was now filled with a fetid, murky brown syrup.

  “Wow, it really smells in here”, said Rizwan as he strolled into her room as if he owned the place. The ladies hostel had a strict curfew and a “No Boys Allowed” in rooms policy. But the students, Nargis included, had found ways to circumvent those rules without much trouble. Nargis snuck a glance at her screen. There were still a few hours left for curfew. “It really is rank in here”, said Rizwan as he inhaled the coffee mug on her desk and gagged. He picked it up and went to the kitchen.

  The students had a communal kitc
hen space on each floor with a sink and a microwave which was usually crowded by someone or the other at all times of the day and night. And on more than one occasion, Nargis had caught Rizwan flirting with her hostel mates over Maggi and cheese. She didn’t like the attention he gave them or the attention he received, but tonight she prayed that someone held his attention for a couple of hours while she finished her notes. She was in no mood to play hanky-panky with Rizwan but she knew he wouldn’t understand.

  She hoped that Niharika struck up a conversation with him. That would guarantee Nargis the uninterrupted peace and quiet she so desperately desired. Niharika was the low hanging fruit all the boys wanted a bite of and she more than happily obliged. She was a stunning beauty to be sure, with alabaster skin and an hour-glass figure that ballooned on her hips. She sauntered between rooms wearing nothing more than booty shorts and cut-off tops, bearing her perfect midriff. Now Nargis was all about embracing one’s sexuality and she had to admit Niharika did so with style. But sometimes it irked her because Niharika was extremely smart. She was a scholar in anthropology. She would do great things. She was a beauty with brains and here Nargis was with neither. She slapped her keyboard in frustration as she realised she still had a ways to go before completing her notes. She trusted Rizwan as much as she could trust a horny college boy. He loved the attention he received from all the girls on her floor, especially Niharika. But Nargis knew that Niharika had zero interest in Rizwan or any man for that matter. She just hoped Rizwan wouldn’t catch on to that before she finished her notes.

  He didn’t. After two hours, he was back in the room, holding up containers of Chinese food and a clean coffee mug. “You were gone for a while”, said Nargis reclining on her chair as she studied him. He was flushed, his cheeks ruddy. He was flying high on something. “Ran into some familiar faces”, he said smiling. He opened the containers and scooped a pile of noodles onto a pink flower patterned plate. The sight of the food made her acutely aware of how hungry she was. She hadn’t eaten anything since morning. Rizwan handed her the steaming pile of noodles. “That’s not my plate”, said Nargis. “I found it in the kitchen. Don’t worry I washed it.”

  Nargis laughed as she took the plate from him. She cleaned her plate in less than five minutes, eating ravenously. Rizwan watched her with a distasteful look on his face. Nargis didn’t care though, she was too hungry. “That was not very ladylike”, he said with a grimace, handing her a napkin to wipe her face with. “And what would you know about being ladylike”, she said wiping her face, black stains of soy sauce spotted the napkin as she threw it in the dust bin. “I know how a lady should behave”, said Rizwan and Nargis paused, she could sense an edge in his voice. “Speaking of ladylike”, his voice was back to being breezy. “I don’t see you wearing a hijab or anything.”

  “Have you seen these locks”, she said waving her hair like the models in shampoo commercials. “You think I’m going to hide these gorgeous tresses behind a hijab, please”, she said airily. Rizwan laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were narrowed in disapproval. Her eyes darted to the ring he had given her. Was this what she would have to deal with once they were married? The judgment and the passive aggressive disapproval of not being the ideal Muslim wife? Would he expect her to wear a full-body Burqa like those poor women in Afghanistan and Iran trampled by Sharia law? She looked at him fiercely. Like hell she would. “Whoa! Easy now, it was just an innocent question”, said Rizwan raising his hands in surrender.

  Nargis looked around, the room was a mess, there was the lingering odour of the stale, curdled coffee that still hung in the air. She had forgotten to clean up after herself. And she was okay with it. “Let’s get something straight here Rizwan. I’m not the domestic type. I’m not going to sit at home and take care of the household. I am diligent and hygienic and pick up after myself like an adult but that’s where it stops. I will not be cooking and cleaning and maintaining the household while you go and be the breadwinner. I will be pursuing my career just as fiercely as you. I hope we’re clear on that.”

  Rizwan came to her and planted a kiss on her forehead. “There was never any doubt in my mind that you would. And besides I wouldn’t want it any other way”, he said before sitting on her lap. The chair creaked and Nargis laughed. He was sitting pillion on her like a child. He began tickling her and they both collapsed on the floor laughing. While fighting him off, Nargis noticed something. His fingers were burned. “What happened?”, she said, taking his hand in hers and examining the fresh red burn scars blooming on his skin. “It’s nothing”, he said, taking his hand back and stuffing it into his pocket. “Lab experiment”, he said noncommittally. Nargis wasn’t convinced. “He turned to dispose of the food containers. “Speaking of lab experiments, did you hear George and Ali are being brought in front of the disciplinary committee for their prank on Professor Patel?”

  CHAPTER 17

  “She is my student. She is a child.”

  Rizwan stared daggers at Nargis. “You people are abhorrent, you want to use a child for your machinations, but I will not be party to it. I want my lawyer.” Ram laughed out loud, a derisive high pitched sound that seemed to terrify Rizwan. “You have been watching a lot of American shows my friend. You should switch to Indian soap operas.” Ram approached Rizwan with the same focused intensity of a Tiger stalking his prey. Rizwan pulled at his cuffs, rattling them against his chair. The sound rang out in the room but no one reacted. “You cannot hold me here. I am not a criminal. You do not have any reason to detain me against my will.”

  “See, again with the American tropes”, Ram leaned against the edge of the table and folded his arms across his massive chest. “You see Mr. Zaid, we are not going to read you your rights, you will not be mirandized because that is not how the Indian legal system operates as I’m sure you’re aware. If you’ve watched even a single Bollywood police movie like Singham or Dabanng, you know what will happen to you if you do not cooperate.”

  The colour drained from Rizwan’s face and he spluttered incoherently, turning from Nargis to Ram. Ram had done his job, now it was time for her to do hers and step in. “Rizwan, you care for Amina. Don’t you?” Rizwan nodded silently, he was looking at her for help. She could see it in his eyes. He wanted her to cut him loose. Nargis placed her hand on his manacled wrist and he flinched. The unconscious reaction hurt Nargis more than she would ever admit to anyone. He did not care for her, that much was certain. He was scared of her. Good.

  She would harbour no more hope nor delusions about saving Rizwan Zaid. But it would be useful to let him think that she still had feelings for him. She intertwined her fingers on his wrist and squeezed. He had always held her by the wrist when they walked together. Instead of hand in hand, fingers intertwined, Rizwan used to hold Nargis by the wrist and lead her around. It was not romantic, it was controlling. She held his gaze. “Your student is in danger Rizwan, we need your help to protect her.” Rizwan was silent for a while, which was perfect, she needed him calm so that she could find a baseline for his heart beat. Her fingers on his wrist were noting the rhythms of his pulse. She would know if he was lying or telling the truth. The way she knew Rizwan, her fingers would do a better job than any lie detector. She had studied each and every one of his tells, the way his lip twitched, the way he inclined his head to the left and back and most importantly how his eyes crinkled in the corners. He had a lot of laugh lines on his face, but the most concentrated patch of wrinkles formed around his eyes. And Nargis knew that those lines were not a by-product of laughing often but from lying.

  “You know what I’ve always wondered?”

  “What?” “Do you remember Professor Patel? When she was attacked in her office as a prank. Do you know who was responsible for that?” Rizwan scowled, “Of course I do, it was Ali and George I think.”

  So that is what a lie feels like though Nargis as she felt his heart beat go erratic for a moment. It had been their final year. Professor Patel was Rizwan’s organic ch
emistry teacher. She was not a fan of his. Nargis had run into Professor Patel the day she had submitted her thesis. The very same day Rizwan had asked her out for the first time.

  Professor Patel was discussing how Rizwan was a disruptive influence in class and how idiosyncratic his ideas were for a new compound. She had eavesdropped on that conversation from behind Doctor Kavita’s desk, catching snatches that did not paint Rizwan in a good light. She had dismissed those accusations as the stubbornness of the old guard in accepting the new. “Ambitious but without merit”, Patel had called Rizwan’s work. She had told Rizwan of what she had heard. A few days later Professor Patel’s desk had exploded. A bottle filled with drain cleaner and aluminium foil had been rigged to her desk.

  Ali Uzbek and George Zachariah had been caught by the campus police as the perpetrators of the prank. They had left three feet of garland crackers coiled over a Catherine wheel that had upturned the desk onto Professor Patel. But the thing that had actually burned her was a nondescript bottle of drain cleaner adorned with aluminum foil. A simple bottle bomb that had exploded in the woman’s face. Rizwan had been at the forefront, decrying the prank. But what was most interesting to Nargis was that all of Professor Patel’s final grades for her students’ thesis reports had burned down in her office.

  She had long suspected Rizwan of the crime. And today, she had finally learnt the truth. It was Rizwan who had attacked the Professor, not Ali or George. “You were at the forefront of the protest to bring Professor Patel justice, you vouched for her. You got Ali and George expelled. You stood up for a victim of assault. I need you to be that man right now. I need you to help us protect the child in your care. Please Rizwan, I know you aren’t particularly fond of me, maybe you even hate me. But do not punish this child for my mistakes.”