Part 16: Betrayal

Present day...

Aabhan sat on the velvet sofa by the teapoy. His elbows on his knees, he sat hunched over, deep in thought. Sarfaraz noticed how his back seemed like it was chiselled out of stone, he seemed like an accountant turned secretary on the outside, is there more to the story? It could just be that the man liked to workout but in his line of work he couldn't just trust anyone. 

"You're trying to tell me that a crazed Jewellery collector is on our tails and that she thinks you have one of her most prized jewels?" groaned Aabhan still crouched over.

"Yes," said Balthazar, matter-of-factly from where he had gotten started on the computer. 

Aabhan threw his head back all of a sudden, and Sarfaraz noted how he did that often. His eyes came in contact with Sarfarazs, standing beside his chair. Aabhan thought the situation was beyond incredulous, but he didn't have difficulty believing it was true, he had his doubts all along.

When he was first hired, he had gone through hell on earth to find sources for the odd and random influxes of money that came in search of his employer. He remembered Balthazar, in faded denim overalls, sitting cross-legged on the floor of his old studio apartment, chipping away at stones. The sunlight streaming in would come and go but Balthazar would remain there, unmoving, had it not been for Aabhan's interruptions with sustenance. He had gotten quite attached to him even before the money started pouring in.

A month into the job, Balthazar would throw his random bundles of cash and tell him to write it in. His questions as to the source would go unanswered, and Aabhan would perk up every time he heard sirens. 

He had considered infinite possibilities as to how Balthazar made that much without selling barely anything or leaving his apartment. The only people who dropped by were well-built people dressed in black and they never seemed to take anything with them. Aabhan had had difficulty landing this job and he wasn't about to ask questions that would make his position at it precarious.

He had not pursued his suspicions till a couple of months ago. When an odd package arrived, Balthazar was working on releasing a new collection for the spring. Their plans were turned upside down when Balthazar had abruptly decided to hold the fashion show here. His attempts at probing into the matter went by with no avail but today the answers were all laid out before him.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Aabhan asked, holding his eyes shut, trying to process it all and feeling overwhelmed by all the puzzle pieces that were falling into place. 

"I wasn't going to go about telling people that I was a smuggler," said Balthazar absently, intently going through something on the laptop. 

Aabhan couldn't hide his annoyance. Balthazar hadn't had any other full-time employees, his marketing down to production was handled by freelance units till the last year. Having an eccentric artisan for a boss and only colleague was far from ideal but he had been with him through it all. 

A prick of guilt stabbed him in the abdomen, spreading cautiously through his veins, he was no better. There was a part of him that felt relieved, that he wasn't the only one with secrets, he couldn't be charged with betrayal when things came out in the future. But that was barely any consolation, Aabhan had needs, and in the light of Tushar's past, it would be very costly.