Murder Under Cover

The other night, after we’d left the FBI building, Robin had begged to come home with me and Derek. Once again, her own place had a stigma attached to it. Shiva had stayed there. She’d probably searched the place while Robin was sleeping, made phone calls, maybe arranged a murder or two. Robin didn’t have the heart to return there just yet.

 

While at my house, Robin had spent hours on the phone with Austin, filling him in on the latest news and discussing their future. Later, she told me that Austin wanted her to move to Dharma, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to right away. He had offered to buy her a store or office on the Lane in town, where she could sell her sculptures and operate her small tour company. I was impressed with my brother’s offer; the Lane was currently the cynosure of wine-country chic. Fancy shops, restaurants, and wine bars attracted people from all over the Bay Area and the country.

 

But along with the offer of a fashionable place to do her work, Austin had offered himself. He wanted to marry her.

 

Through misty eyes, I had assured her that it all sounded wonderful, and while I would miss having her living so close to me in the city, she would be only an hour’s drive away.

 

It was a lot for her to think about on top of her mother’s betrayal, so Robin was still debating her next move. Seeing her with Austin today, realizing again how perfect they were together, I had a feeling her decision would come soon.

 

“But wait. Shiva’s story is not over yet,” I said to the group.

 

“Then keep going,” Dad said with the air of a man who wanted all the story out in the open so they could deal with it and move on.

 

“Okay, so guess what.” I looked around the room at everyone’s expectant faces. “It was all bogus.”

 

“Bogus?” Dad said, his eyes narrowing. “Explain.”

 

I nodded at Derek to take over, because he told the story so much better than I did. I think the British accent helped.

 

“It was Shiva’s old friend Rajiv Mizra,” Derek began. “He was the one who set the whole operation in motion in order to snare Shiva in a trap.”

 

“Wait a minute.” Dad shook his head as though his ears were plugged. “Her friend set her up?”

 

“Yes.” I sat forward and gave Robin a sympathetic look. “It was all a sting to catch Shiva.”

 

“Rajiv has always been one of Mom’s oldest and dearest friends in Varanasi,” Robin explained. “But it turns out that he’s really an agent for the Indian government. He’s been watching her for years. But she’s always been so devious, it was impossible to catch her until now.”

 

“Whoa,” Mom said. “Now, that’s bizarre. This is starting to sound like a bad spy movie.”

 

Dad stood. “Does anyone want more wine?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” I said, needing a breather. “I’ll help pour.” I pushed myself up off the couch and walked carefully around the room, filling glasses for everyone.

 

“You’re moving kind of slow, sweetie,” Dad said. “You got a hitch in your get-along?”

 

I was relieved that, for once, I didn’t have to feel guilty about my aches and pains. “That guy Rajiv pushed me off the steps and I fell on the blacktop. I’m still a little achy.”

 

Dad froze; then his hand tightened around the bottle’s neck. “For that alone he should serve twenty to life.”

 

“Thanks, Dad.”

 

Derek continued the story. “Rajiv used various channels to feed the fraudulent information to Shiva, then gave her the means to smuggle it all into the United States. Namely, the book, the Kama Sutra. He knew her well enough to know that the very subject matter would intrigue Shiva. He also knew that Robin visited her mother at least once a year, so he’d been monitoring her activity and had timed everything to her arrival.”

 

“Don’t I feel special?” Robin said, shaking her head in disgust. Austin squeezed her hand reassuringly.

 

“Unfortunately,” Derek said, “while Rajiv informed some top officials in the Ukrainian state department that he was running a sting operation, he didn’t inform the Russians. He cared only that Shiva would eventually act on the information she got, and when she did, he would make his move.”

 

“Wow,” Dad said, scratching his head. “Becky, this isn’t a movie. It’s more like a Ken Follett novel.”

 

Derek smiled. “Shiva’s contact was Galina, because they’d worked together before. She suggested to Galina that the Ukrainians might use the information to barter a better oil deal with Russia. In a classic case of the right hand not knowing what the left was doing, the sting information never filtered down to Galina and Alex, and those two never told their superiors what they planned to do. Mainly because they were promised a kickback from Shiva if they retrieved the flash drive in record time.”

 

“Amateurs,” Gabriel muttered.

 

“They probably thought they’d get a big bonus for capturing the information,” I surmised. “But instead, they both died gruesome deaths.”