Post by skybright on Jan 29, 2006 22:37:16 GMT -5
Daws sidestepped a few recruiters for various religious groups as she ascended the steps of the Roosevelt Avenue station into the bright sunlight of Jackson Heights. The subway ride to Queens had been uneventful; she’d shot a dirty look at a big brute with anti-mutant tattoos across his bald head, but nothing had come of it except a scowl in return. Now she adjusted her fedora and strode resolutely across the street and headed north down 74th.
Within moments she was surrounded by New York’s largest neighborhood of Indian, Pakistani, and Bangladeshi immigrants. A group of girls with bindi dots on their foreheads and designer handbags slung over their shoulders stood giggling at the handsome stars on a poster at the Bollywood cinema; a sari-clad woman hawked cellular phones from a kiosk in front of a shop peddling idols of all shapes, sizes, and materials. The sharp scents of curry and tandoori floated in the air.
Daws took an appreciative breath and ducked down a side street, where the shops gradually gave way to apartment buildings. She stopped in front of one building in particular, a small curry stand on the ground floor with apartments towering above, and rang the bell at the empty front counter. Within moments a plump, grinning man with salt-and-pepper hair materialized from the back room. He grinned when he saw Daws. “Vidvesha!” He shouted jovially. “Welcome back!”
Daws reached across the counter to grasp the proffered hand of the only man who’d ever called her ‘abomination’ in any language and not bled for it. “How are you, Salman, you old tabadili?”
“Fine, fine.” He chortled, slapping his pot belly with one wide hand. “I got married!”
“Congratulations,” Daws grinned. “She a beauty?”
“Of course!” Salman winked conspiratorially. “She’s a Bangladeshi, though -- but nobody’s perfect!” He waved expansively at the ceiling, indicating the apartments above. “You’re here to see the Twins, naturally. Veeru got home an hour ago – and of course, Jai’s always home.” He slapped Daws’ shoulder. “On your way out, you get some decent food. What you eat out on the Island, I don’t know, but it can’t be any good.”
Daws nodded her agreement and dashed up the stairs to the third floor.
***
Daws rang the bell of the third-floor front apartment and was soon greeted by a dark, broad-shouldered man in a leather jacket. He grinned broadly and seized her shoulders. “Daws, how good to see you!”
Daws grinned and removed her hat. “How’s things, Veeru?”
“Good, good.” He stepped aside and gestured her into the apartment. “And with you? How’s the business?”
Daws shrugged out of her trenchcoat. “Same as it usually is. Trying to keep my tail out of the line of fire.”
Veeru Patil hung her coat on a nearby standing lamp and placed her fedora almost reverently on the counter separating kitchenette from living room. “And yourself? Are you well?”
She nodded. “Nothing a little aspirin and a stiff drink doesn’t cure, V – thanks for asking.”
Before Veeru could reply, a tinny, hollow voice echoed through the room. Veeru? Is that Regina I hear?
Daws’ eyebrows shot up. “Jai?”
Veeru nodded. “He’s experimenting; cameras, microphones, speakers looped into an internet feed.” He gestured at a round-eyed webcam and microphone perched above the apartment’s console television set. “For when I’m not home.”
Daws nodded, and said tentatively to the air “How are you, Jai?”
Very well, thank you, Regina. Veeru’s twin brother never had taken to using Daws’ nickname. Won’t you come back?
“Yes, come on.” Veeru led the way – limping – into the back bedroom of the apartment, which was murky and quiet except for a low, electronic humming that Daw’s sensitive hearing barely registered.
The room was occupied by a variety of computer equipment, a low sofa and a double bed. A slender figure sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes closed; in the dimness he resembled nothing so much as the traditional image of a meditating yogi. Veeru limped to the figure’s side, hoisted himself up onto the bed and lay one hand on his brother’s shoulder. Then he nodded at Daws.
Daws was used to the ritual by now; she turned on the lights and took a seat on the sofa as Jai Patil opened his eyes and blinked against the light. Then he smiled shyly and nodded at Daws in greeting, flicking his long braid of black hair over his shoulder. “Hello, Regina.” His voice was reedy and pleasant without the speaker’s amplification. “What brings you out our way?”
“The same as usual, I’m afraid.” Daws ran her fingers through her hair. “I could use some knowledge.”
“Of course. Always glad to help you out, Regina – you know that.” Jai blinked owlishly and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Even with his brother’s stabilizing presence, he was still sensitive to the light. “I’ve upgraded to wireless this year, too.” He announced shyly, pride tingeing his voice. “No more cords.” Jai waved vaguely behind him, where a tangle of various cords and wires had once led to the walls – and to the Internet that was his main connection to the world.
Daws grinned appreciatively. “Puts you way ahead of me. I barely use that laptop of mine – which is why I come to you. There’s money in it, too.”
“No.” The twins said simultaneously. Veeru added firmly, “You are family, Daws; no money from family.”
Daws chuckled and shook her head. “I’ve gotta make the offer.”
“And we’ve got to refuse it.” Veeru grinned back.
“What can I find for you, Regina?” Jai asked quietly.
Daws nodded. “Two things – one’s a piece of cake, or should be. The other – I’m thinking it’ll take some time, some digging.”
Jai smiled. “It sounds like a challenge.”
“It should be. I’m not sure you can even find it; it may not be there to find.” She leaned forward. “The first thing I need – the easy thing – is the information on Pier Twenty-Seven for tomorrow night. Cops, harbor patrol; I need you to check duty rosters, things like that, and see if anybody’s planning a sting of some sort on that pier.”
“Easily done.” Jai smiled. “The authorities are easier to hack than any other establishment. What else?”
Daws sighed. “I’m snooping a big corporation. Tiernan Enterprises – I know,” she said to Veeru’s shocked look, “It’s big stuff, and I think some of it is deeply illegal. I need you to see if you notice anything . . . suspicious . . . in their records. Something that might indicate income from legit businesses they don’t own.”
“Blackmail is what you mean.” Jai said softly.
“Yes, and anything else that seems dirty – bad imports, black market trade, that sort of thing. And for God’s sakes be careful.” Daws cautioned. “Don’t let them know you’re there.”
Jai looked vaguely offended at the suggestion. “They could not distinguish me from the Internet itself, Regina.” He said solemnly. “Anything else?”
Daws thought for a moment. “See if Tiernan or any of its dummy corporations have made big purchases from any weapons firms that manufacture those black-bladed carbon knives, would you?”
Jai smiled. “Done. When do you need it?”
Daws shrugged. “I’d be able to tell ya if I knew what ‘it’ was. Right now I’m just trying to figure exactly what it is I’m snooping into, you know.”
“Of course.” Jai rubbed his temples. “I can find the pier information for you right now – it will take perhaps a half of an hour.”
“Would you like some tea in the meantime?” Veeru offered.
“Sounds good.” Daws agreed. She stood and flicked the lights off. “I really appreciate this, Jai.”
“Think nothing of it.” Bedsprings creaked as Veeru rose and crossed the room, and Jai lapsed back into the dark silence that made up his life.
Daws followed Veeru’s rolling gait back into the kitchenette, where he poured them each a cup of tea. The two of them perched on stools at the counter and passed a while in small talk, swapping the gossip of their respective neighborhoods. After several minutes, Veeru grew grave and touched Daws’ wrist.
“I hope you’re going to be careful.” He said, fixing her with a solemn brown gaze.
Daws snorted and took another drink of tea. “If I wasn’t careful I’d have been stuffed and mounted by now, V.”
“I mean it.” Veeru insisted. “Even in Little India we know Tiernan’s name. He’s a big man. You’re going up against a giant, Daws.”
“I’ve done it before, once upon a time.” She reminded him.
“And I wouldn’t have a brother without it. I know it’s your job, Daws. Just please, be careful doing it.” Veeru said firmly. He and Daws had dated, years ago, in the brief and casual way that twenty-year-olds date. Nothing had ever come of it, especially after Jack Knight’s murder, but the relationship had left a bond between them. Veeru now felt towards Daws the protective affection of an older brother.
Daws nodded and sighed. “I know the risks, Veeru. And I promise I’ll be careful. Nobody wants me safe more than I do.”
“One or two people might.” Veeru replied lightly. “Thank you, Daws.”
They passed another fifteen minutes or so in conversation before Jai’s disembodied voice said tinnily There’s nothing going on at Pier Twenty-Seven tomorrow, Regina. The regular patrols, cargo inspections of the normal sort – all by the harbor patrol. No police.
“Thank you, Jai.” She stood and reached for her hat. “When you get anything on the other matter, e-mail me, won’t you? Make it a spam email.” She added quickly.
Mail-order brides from India. Jai agreed, the ghost of humor echoing in the words. Then you can come back for the information.
“Perfect.” Daws let Veeru help her into the trenchcoat and embraced Veeru. “You both take care of yourselves.”
“Of course.” Veeru waved her out of the apartment. “We’ll see you soon.”
Daws nodded and made her way back downstairs. It was moving towards evening; and, she remembered with a grin, Sholay had been playing at the Princess Cinema on 74th. Looking forward to the prospect of catching a Bollywood flick in Little India, Daws headed back to Salman’s in pursuit of some green curry.
Within moments she was surrounded by New York’s largest neighborhood of Indian, Pakistani, and Bangladeshi immigrants. A group of girls with bindi dots on their foreheads and designer handbags slung over their shoulders stood giggling at the handsome stars on a poster at the Bollywood cinema; a sari-clad woman hawked cellular phones from a kiosk in front of a shop peddling idols of all shapes, sizes, and materials. The sharp scents of curry and tandoori floated in the air.
Daws took an appreciative breath and ducked down a side street, where the shops gradually gave way to apartment buildings. She stopped in front of one building in particular, a small curry stand on the ground floor with apartments towering above, and rang the bell at the empty front counter. Within moments a plump, grinning man with salt-and-pepper hair materialized from the back room. He grinned when he saw Daws. “Vidvesha!” He shouted jovially. “Welcome back!”
Daws reached across the counter to grasp the proffered hand of the only man who’d ever called her ‘abomination’ in any language and not bled for it. “How are you, Salman, you old tabadili?”
“Fine, fine.” He chortled, slapping his pot belly with one wide hand. “I got married!”
“Congratulations,” Daws grinned. “She a beauty?”
“Of course!” Salman winked conspiratorially. “She’s a Bangladeshi, though -- but nobody’s perfect!” He waved expansively at the ceiling, indicating the apartments above. “You’re here to see the Twins, naturally. Veeru got home an hour ago – and of course, Jai’s always home.” He slapped Daws’ shoulder. “On your way out, you get some decent food. What you eat out on the Island, I don’t know, but it can’t be any good.”
Daws nodded her agreement and dashed up the stairs to the third floor.
***
Daws rang the bell of the third-floor front apartment and was soon greeted by a dark, broad-shouldered man in a leather jacket. He grinned broadly and seized her shoulders. “Daws, how good to see you!”
Daws grinned and removed her hat. “How’s things, Veeru?”
“Good, good.” He stepped aside and gestured her into the apartment. “And with you? How’s the business?”
Daws shrugged out of her trenchcoat. “Same as it usually is. Trying to keep my tail out of the line of fire.”
Veeru Patil hung her coat on a nearby standing lamp and placed her fedora almost reverently on the counter separating kitchenette from living room. “And yourself? Are you well?”
She nodded. “Nothing a little aspirin and a stiff drink doesn’t cure, V – thanks for asking.”
Before Veeru could reply, a tinny, hollow voice echoed through the room. Veeru? Is that Regina I hear?
Daws’ eyebrows shot up. “Jai?”
Veeru nodded. “He’s experimenting; cameras, microphones, speakers looped into an internet feed.” He gestured at a round-eyed webcam and microphone perched above the apartment’s console television set. “For when I’m not home.”
Daws nodded, and said tentatively to the air “How are you, Jai?”
Very well, thank you, Regina. Veeru’s twin brother never had taken to using Daws’ nickname. Won’t you come back?
“Yes, come on.” Veeru led the way – limping – into the back bedroom of the apartment, which was murky and quiet except for a low, electronic humming that Daw’s sensitive hearing barely registered.
The room was occupied by a variety of computer equipment, a low sofa and a double bed. A slender figure sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes closed; in the dimness he resembled nothing so much as the traditional image of a meditating yogi. Veeru limped to the figure’s side, hoisted himself up onto the bed and lay one hand on his brother’s shoulder. Then he nodded at Daws.
Daws was used to the ritual by now; she turned on the lights and took a seat on the sofa as Jai Patil opened his eyes and blinked against the light. Then he smiled shyly and nodded at Daws in greeting, flicking his long braid of black hair over his shoulder. “Hello, Regina.” His voice was reedy and pleasant without the speaker’s amplification. “What brings you out our way?”
“The same as usual, I’m afraid.” Daws ran her fingers through her hair. “I could use some knowledge.”
“Of course. Always glad to help you out, Regina – you know that.” Jai blinked owlishly and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Even with his brother’s stabilizing presence, he was still sensitive to the light. “I’ve upgraded to wireless this year, too.” He announced shyly, pride tingeing his voice. “No more cords.” Jai waved vaguely behind him, where a tangle of various cords and wires had once led to the walls – and to the Internet that was his main connection to the world.
Daws grinned appreciatively. “Puts you way ahead of me. I barely use that laptop of mine – which is why I come to you. There’s money in it, too.”
“No.” The twins said simultaneously. Veeru added firmly, “You are family, Daws; no money from family.”
Daws chuckled and shook her head. “I’ve gotta make the offer.”
“And we’ve got to refuse it.” Veeru grinned back.
“What can I find for you, Regina?” Jai asked quietly.
Daws nodded. “Two things – one’s a piece of cake, or should be. The other – I’m thinking it’ll take some time, some digging.”
Jai smiled. “It sounds like a challenge.”
“It should be. I’m not sure you can even find it; it may not be there to find.” She leaned forward. “The first thing I need – the easy thing – is the information on Pier Twenty-Seven for tomorrow night. Cops, harbor patrol; I need you to check duty rosters, things like that, and see if anybody’s planning a sting of some sort on that pier.”
“Easily done.” Jai smiled. “The authorities are easier to hack than any other establishment. What else?”
Daws sighed. “I’m snooping a big corporation. Tiernan Enterprises – I know,” she said to Veeru’s shocked look, “It’s big stuff, and I think some of it is deeply illegal. I need you to see if you notice anything . . . suspicious . . . in their records. Something that might indicate income from legit businesses they don’t own.”
“Blackmail is what you mean.” Jai said softly.
“Yes, and anything else that seems dirty – bad imports, black market trade, that sort of thing. And for God’s sakes be careful.” Daws cautioned. “Don’t let them know you’re there.”
Jai looked vaguely offended at the suggestion. “They could not distinguish me from the Internet itself, Regina.” He said solemnly. “Anything else?”
Daws thought for a moment. “See if Tiernan or any of its dummy corporations have made big purchases from any weapons firms that manufacture those black-bladed carbon knives, would you?”
Jai smiled. “Done. When do you need it?”
Daws shrugged. “I’d be able to tell ya if I knew what ‘it’ was. Right now I’m just trying to figure exactly what it is I’m snooping into, you know.”
“Of course.” Jai rubbed his temples. “I can find the pier information for you right now – it will take perhaps a half of an hour.”
“Would you like some tea in the meantime?” Veeru offered.
“Sounds good.” Daws agreed. She stood and flicked the lights off. “I really appreciate this, Jai.”
“Think nothing of it.” Bedsprings creaked as Veeru rose and crossed the room, and Jai lapsed back into the dark silence that made up his life.
Daws followed Veeru’s rolling gait back into the kitchenette, where he poured them each a cup of tea. The two of them perched on stools at the counter and passed a while in small talk, swapping the gossip of their respective neighborhoods. After several minutes, Veeru grew grave and touched Daws’ wrist.
“I hope you’re going to be careful.” He said, fixing her with a solemn brown gaze.
Daws snorted and took another drink of tea. “If I wasn’t careful I’d have been stuffed and mounted by now, V.”
“I mean it.” Veeru insisted. “Even in Little India we know Tiernan’s name. He’s a big man. You’re going up against a giant, Daws.”
“I’ve done it before, once upon a time.” She reminded him.
“And I wouldn’t have a brother without it. I know it’s your job, Daws. Just please, be careful doing it.” Veeru said firmly. He and Daws had dated, years ago, in the brief and casual way that twenty-year-olds date. Nothing had ever come of it, especially after Jack Knight’s murder, but the relationship had left a bond between them. Veeru now felt towards Daws the protective affection of an older brother.
Daws nodded and sighed. “I know the risks, Veeru. And I promise I’ll be careful. Nobody wants me safe more than I do.”
“One or two people might.” Veeru replied lightly. “Thank you, Daws.”
They passed another fifteen minutes or so in conversation before Jai’s disembodied voice said tinnily There’s nothing going on at Pier Twenty-Seven tomorrow, Regina. The regular patrols, cargo inspections of the normal sort – all by the harbor patrol. No police.
“Thank you, Jai.” She stood and reached for her hat. “When you get anything on the other matter, e-mail me, won’t you? Make it a spam email.” She added quickly.
Mail-order brides from India. Jai agreed, the ghost of humor echoing in the words. Then you can come back for the information.
“Perfect.” Daws let Veeru help her into the trenchcoat and embraced Veeru. “You both take care of yourselves.”
“Of course.” Veeru waved her out of the apartment. “We’ll see you soon.”
Daws nodded and made her way back downstairs. It was moving towards evening; and, she remembered with a grin, Sholay had been playing at the Princess Cinema on 74th. Looking forward to the prospect of catching a Bollywood flick in Little India, Daws headed back to Salman’s in pursuit of some green curry.