Amal Unbound(38)

“Enough.” Mumtaz appeared and frowned at us. “I hope you are not gossiping about the hands that feed us,” she said. “It’s not our concern what they might be up to.”

Nabila glanced at me and rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything else, the front door thudded; Nasreen Baji’s eyes widened when Jawad Sahib stepped onto the verandah. He was accompanied by a man with a shock of white hair and a thick mustache, wearing a white shalwar kamiz. Nasreen Baji jumped up and rushed toward them.

“You’re home!” she exclaimed. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Needed to sort out this police business once and for all,” the man replied. “I’ll be paying them a personal visit today.”

“Mumtaz, go and air out Khan Sahib’s wardrobe,” Nasreen Baji said.

“No need. I have to leave this evening.”

“What?” Her expression drooped. “After all this time away, you can’t even stay the night?”

“You don’t know the pressures I’m under. The federal police are on my back. They’re not as simple to shake off as the ones here. Although they’ve gotten worse here, too.” He glared at Jawad Sahib. “I keep you here to handle things, and I expect them to be handled. Never thought you’d make more problems for me.”

“Is this is about that missing boy?” She held up her newspaper. “Why did I have to read about it in the papers like a common villager?”

“I told you already,” Jawad Sahib said. “I don’t want you to have to concern yourself with this.”

“Well, it’s hard not to concern myself when ill-mannered police officers charge into our house. I’ve never been so disrespected.”

“They dared to be rude to you?” Khan Sahib’s face reddened.

“Yes. Why do you think I’ve been trying to call you both so many times?” Nasreen turned to her son. “You could have at least sent me a message to let me know you were all right, Jawad. The way they barged in—can you imagine what went through my mind?”

“I’m sorry,” Jawad Sahib said.

“I will take care of it,” Khan Sahib told her. “They won’t bother you again.”

“And the things they’re saying in the papers . . .” Nasreen Baji shook her head. Her eyes watered.

“Jawad says none of it is true,” Khan Sahib said. “That boy comes by to see Jawad. Gets drunk and then decides to play cards with the locals. Loses. Refuses to pay. Now he’s missing. With the way that boy was used to mouthing off to people, sooner or later, something was going to happen to him. But it will blow over soon enough. Nothing to do with us.”

Jawad Sahib’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen before shoving it in his pocket.

“Bilal,” Jawad Sahib said. “Send my meal to my room.”

“Yes, Sahib.” He rushed off.

I watched Khan Sahib talk to Nasreen Baji.

There he was—the man I’d heard stories about all my life. The man whose photos lined the hallways I walked through each day. He was the bogeyman our mothers invoked to urge us to finish our dinner. When I was Safa’s age, I imagined him to be ten feet tall with beady eyes and pointy teeth. Hafsa was convinced he breathed fire.

But now he stood a few steps away from me. And he didn’t breathe fire and he wasn’t ten feet tall.

He and Jawad Sahib were powerful and mean-spirited men.

But maybe, just maybe, even they weren’t invincible.





Chapter 41





Jawad Sahib and his father are leaving after dinner tonight,” Bilal told me later that afternoon, as we finished cleaning up from lunch. “You should be safe to grab a book if you want to then.”

I thanked him and dried my hands before walking over to the servants’ verandah. It was empty today. I exhaled and rubbed my temples. Helping Hamid rush to prepare a last-minute lavish lunch for Khan Sahib had left me tired. I wanted to sit down for a moment to catch my breath, but Mumtaz had asked Nabila to clear the teacups from the main verandah, and I knew she was still putting away the dishes from lunch. The sooner we put the house back in order, the sooner all of us could rest.

The flowers swayed in the cool afternoon breeze as I strolled through the garden toward the bushes bordering the main verandah. Just then, the sound of voices drifted over to me. I paused by the bushes. They were male voices coming from the other side, steps from where I stood. It had to be Jawad Sahib and his father.

“What did you want me to do?” Jawad argued. “He gambles more than he can pay back and then threatens me? Why should I have been the one to let it go? What is our reputation worth if we take disrespect like that?”

“Well, thanks to you, we now have federal investigators poking their noses in our business,” Khan Sahib said.

“They won’t find anything! My men took care of it.”

“Let’s hope you’re right for both our sakes.”

“I know I’m right. My men enforce all my debts, and they’re meticulous. They wouldn’t harm the hand that lines their pockets.”

“Which one took care of this one?”

“Rehan. I only trusted it to him.”

“Tell him to move the body farther out after the investigation dies down. I’m not comfortable with it so close to home.”