The Spiritualist's Dilemma

Pick Pocket's Story

Maya stood restlessly under a Mango tree on St. Sebastian square. It was dusk, and the square was abuzz with the evening traffic - people spilling out of offices like ants looking for food, tram drivers with arms raised raucously inviting passengers upon their cabs and hawkers jostling through the crowd with baskets laden with apples and candies. Maya caught a familiar face in the crowd, the face she was looking for. It gave her an inexplicable sense of relief.

Maya was at a very delicate point in solving the mystery. She had given the man in the crowd a very critical thread to explore. The success of his endeavor would define if she was on the brink of the solution or so far away from it that it was unlikely that she would ever grasp success. Banwari was dressed in a white shirt too loose for him, trousers folded four times over at the feet, and a torn flat cap upon his head. He was waddling in the crowd, his bony hands hanging loose at his side at a convenient height to graze coat pockets, purses, and wrists of the people brushing past him. Evening was the peak time for his profession. Banwari was a full-time beggar and a part-time pick-pocket. Maya saw him nick a golden pocket watch from an elderly gentleman, then a leather wallet from a tall man too busy speaking to a lady and then finally a lady's handbag each of which disappeared in the loose shirt that he was wearing. He then casually strolled over to the Mango tree that Maya was waiting under.

"Hello madam," he said bowing low to her in the regular way of beggars.

"I have never seen you dress up so smartly," said Maya smiling good-naturedly. In her year-long association with him, she had only seen Banwari in the dirty toga that he wore while begging.

"I dress gentleman like when I picking pockets. Beggar cloth too smelly, people run away, not good for business," replied Banwari in an English as patched as his dress.

"What about the work that I told you," asked Maya in a whisper, "did you follow Munro?"

Once Maya had found Ernst's farewell note in the strange man's pocket, she had run straight to Ernst who was still sleeping on the pavement at Mill Street and questioned him about it. The high guard had stuck the note on a tie that he had gifted to the man whose farewell party he had attended in the night. The same man who was leaving Cardim for South Africa to claim his uncle's inheritance. Maya had got the man, Michael Munro's, address and then went over to Banwari, a beggar who sat on a street near his house and had asked him to keep an eye on the man and then report all his activities to her in the evening.

"I follow him, madam," said the beggar, "All day. But let us go to dark place, this place Longstaff come with his cane and cause trouble."

Banwari led Maya to a dark alley some distance off the square. They stepped into the shadows behind an overflowing garbage bin. The beggar then opened his shirt buttons and pulled out the lady's purse to inspect. He rummaged it thoroughly in the dark but could only find a couple of coins and a small mirror. Banwari's face dropped in disappointment.

"People grow poorer in this city every day." he said grimly, "No purse now full of money. Earlier I get a purse and I live in peace for weeks, now not enough to buy even one beer."

"Let me have the mirror," said Maya. She had realized the benefit of having a mirror in her paraphernalia. Banwari handed her the mirror, pocketed the coins, and threw the purse away.

"So what about Munro?" asked Maya, as Banwari took out the pocket watch to explore.

"Boring man," said Banwari running the watch in his hands, "He get out his house early in the morning, I just woken up for the day. He then go to place called Sandwich and Tea which is in the street he live. He eat a sandwich and milk while standing up. There is seat available but he stand which I find funny. He then pay the fat man in the shop. I know the fat man. Good man. When he happy he sometime give me sandwich to eat or even tea in evening. Mr. Munro then go back to his house. He come out in a cotton shirt a long grey coat and hat. Very ugly, I think. Uglier even than what I wear. Then he go up on a hansom. I rush and find a cab nearby, the cabman not ready to let a beggar. He think I want free ride. But then I show him money and he agree to let me in. I ask to follow Mr. Munro. I think he go to office but no, he go to Flea Market in Old Cardim. He get off at Hafiz Square in Old Harbor. I know the place well, I live there earlier but the route he take, even I do not know. It is a maze. He take one alley then another then a street so dark that even bat go blind. I follow him for so much time that I think it must be night. Finally he stop. I stop some way off. He show a paper to three strong tall man standing in front of shabby looking door. The building is wooden three floor tall but no window. The man let Mr. Munro in. I later find about building is. It is call Shadow Vault. Never heard of it, not know what it meant for. I hide in street and wait for Mr. Munro. He come after some time, not know exactly how much, I have no watch. Mr. Munro has a box in his hand. It is three bricks tall and three wide. Now he walk fast, too fast for my liking but still I follow him. Again he go to the Hafiz square and get a cab. I get a cab and follow him to the house. When we reach his house it is noon. I wait for him outside his house for long time but he never come out. So when it turn evening I come to this place to meet you."

"You said Shadow Vault, didn't you?" Maya asked thinking deeply.

"Yes Madam. Never hear of it. Don't think it is brothel, I know them all in that area."

Maya had a feeling that she had heard of the place before but could not exactly recollect where and what the building was meant to be.

"Thank you Banwari," she said opening her purse, "Here are your 20 Cowries and 5 more for the cab."

"Thank you, madam," Banwari bowed low, "Here is a flower for you," he said taking one crumpled marigold flower out from under his shirt and handing it Maya.

"You even steal flowers?"

"When the fingers itch," said the beggar smiling, "they take what they touch."