Page 58 of Rising Tiger

“A reason for him to leave and come home. A medical emergency.”

Twenty-four minutes later, Pinaki Ali burst through the front door calling for his mother. He found her, not lying on her bed suffering from heart palpitations, but rather at the stove cooking.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “You shouldn’t be on your feet! I told you to call the doctor. To call an ambulance. You know how serious this can—”

Before he could finish his sentence, the old woman had turned from the stove, was yelling in Hindi, and beating him with a wooden spoon.

She might have succeeded in injuring the man had Vijay and Harvath not stepped into the room.

Vijay flashed his credentials, identified himself as being with the national police, and then put them away. He didn’t bother introducing Harvath. Better to let the man wonder who the foreigner was.

“Just over a week ago, you reported a motorcycle stolen,” said the ex-cop.

Pinaki looked at his mother and Vijay barked at him, “Don’t look at her. Look at me. What happened to it?”

“I don’t know,” the man said.

He would have made the world’s worst poker player. “He’s lying,” said Harvath.

“What happened to the motorbike,” Vijay repeated.

“I told you, I don’t know. It was stolen.”

“Stolen from where?”

“Outside one of the warehouses at work.”

Harvath nodded. While not much, that was at least true.

“Who stole it?” Vijay demanded.

“I have no idea. No idea,” the man claimed. The micro-expressions were erupting off the man like a handful of corn kernels thrown into a pan of hot oil.

“Lie,” said Harvath. “Biglie.”

Pinaki had no idea what the hell was going on, but he knew whatever this was, it was no good. His eyes darted back and forth between the two men. Occasionally he glanced toward his mother, who only glared angrily back at him.

“Mr. Ali,” said Vijay. “We know you’re lying. However, I’m going to give you one last chance to do the right thing. So, I want you to listen very carefully to me. Your motorbike was used in the—”

“Mystolenmotorbike,” the man interjected.

The ex-cop looked at Mrs. Ali, who drew her hand back and cracked her son in the mouth with the wooden spoon. “Don’t talk,” she admonished him. “Listen.”

It was a pretty good whack. Vijay waited for the man to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth before continuing. “Who stole your motorbike?”

“Whospecifically? I am telling you the truth. I don’t know.”

The ex-cop had been at the game long enough not to need Harvath’s feedback on that answer. “So, if not specifically, who ingeneraldo you believe stole your motorbike?”

Pinaki’s pupils were dilated. His eyes darted from side to side. Harvath sensed the man was ready to bolt, and he moved slightly to his left to block the door in case he charged.

“I’m a dead man if I tell you,” Pinaki said.

“You may very well be a dead man if you don’t,” Vijay replied, casting a subtle glance at Harvath.

“They will come after my mother.”

“Depending on what you give us, we are more than capable of protecting you both. But this is up to you, Pinaki. You can do the right thing, or you can disappoint all of us, particularly your mother, and you can continue to be an asshole.”