Mimi lives a life of seclusion, not only from the world but from her own feelings. She lost her parents and husband in a fatal car crash years earlier in Pakistan and has since closed herself off from life and feelings. Now, all she has left is a collection of rare sacred objects and art-gifts from her parents. When she returns home one day to find her home and beloved dog savaged by burglars, her shock is so great that she can't see the crime as more than what it is-a simple home invasion. But what Mimi doesn't yet know is that the break-in is a targeted attack by a vicious cult whose members are determined to recover an ancient piece of sculpture Mimi inherited from her father. They believe that the sculpture of the hand of the goddess Kali, holding a sickle and noose, has supernatural powers-and they will stop at nothing to recover it from Mimi's collection. Mimi's solitude and peace of mind are threatened by these attacks, but ironically, this may be just what she needs to regain control of her life.
The Hand of Kali
By Freya DauthBalboa Press
Copyright © 2012 Freya Dauth
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4525-0461-2Chapter One
The dog lay with head on paws, stretched and stiff. Her eyes were popping out and the only sound was her desperate raspy breathing, as she tried to force air through her damaged windpipe. She lay in a pool of blood. Blood had seeped into the apricot rug and a mess of pink and grey intestines spilled obscenely from her stomach. She was barely alive. She had done her duty, defending her mistress' property but the intruders had been savage.
* * *
Mimi was surprised when she arrived home that Poppy had not come dashing out of the townhouse to greet her. Usually as soon as she drove into the garage, Poppy was there at the front door, ears flattened, tail wagging and wide smile on her face. She knew the sound of Mimi's Subaru seemingly from blocks away and always rushed out the dog door at the back of the townhouse, unable to wait another second to be with her mistress.
"Strange", Mimi thought, "Maybe she's buried herself so far under the doona, she can't hear the car. We were up late last night, so she's probably tired." Mimi smiled to herself. The thought of coming home to Poppy always cheered her. She looked forward to seeing the big sparkling brown eyes and the routine of fending off the scrabbling paws and the sheer excitement in every muscle of her little dog. Every afternoon homecoming was an event for both Mimi and her dog.
"More likely she doesn't want to come out in this rain," she thought. Poppy had never been a dog that liked to get wet. Mimi grabbed her umbrella and bag and dashed to the door of her townhouse.
It was then she heard the horrible rasp of Poppy's breath. She didn't know what the awful sound was. Then she saw that the front door was ajar. She had been so preoccupied with avoiding getting wet, she hadn't noticed. She was suddenly scared as she realised that there had been intruders. She pushed the door open tentatively, afraid they were still there. Then all thoughts of her own safety disappeared as she saw Poppy lying on the rug, desperation in her eyes, her lifeblood seeping away.
Mimi ignored, in fact, didn't see the mess everywhere. Her thoughts were only for Poppy. Forcing down a rising sense of panic, she examined her little dog. It was obvious that the first thing to do was stop the bleeding. She ran to the bathroom to get a clean towel and carefully wrapped Poppy's stomach, staunching the blood but being careful of the intestines.
"There, there, darling. I'm here now. You'll be all right," she murmured, trying to reassure herself as well as the dog. She didn't have time to think about what had happened or why. Blood had splashed on her cream woollen skirt soaking through but she didn't notice.
"Hi! You've contacted Linh Nguyen. I'm not available right now. If you would like to leave...."
"Linh! Are you there? For God's sake, please be there and answer me! It's Mimi. I need help ..."
"Mimi, Whoa! I'm here! What's up?"
"Thank goodness. Linh. Poppy's very badly hurt. Some burglars. I don't know. They've ripped her stomach and I don't dare move her. Can you come? The intestines are everywhere. I think I've stopped the bleeding. God. What should I do?" Mimi said choking over the words.
"Listen, Mimi. Just take it calmly. If the bleeding is stopped then don't move her. Don't touch anything, but keep her warm and make sure she can breathe. Keep her calm, as well. I'll be there in a few minutes. Hold on Mimi. You'll be fine. Have you rung the police?"
"I'll ring the police when you get here. Got to look after Poppy first. I'll manage. See you in a bit."
Mimi put down the phone and sat down on the floor with the dog. She looked around and became aware of the devastation. The tan leather sofa had been ripped. The TV and CD player were smashed, furniture overturned and she could see all the drawers in the dining room dresser had been pulled out and emptied. She suddenly realised she should have checked the rest of the rooms to make sure no one was still here. Carefully she walked into the kitchen. Again, every drawer had been emptied of its contents. She began to wonder what they had been looking for. Even the bathroom seemed to have been searched. It looked like they must have been disturbed while they were searching the bedrooms as only some of her clothes were on the floor. This was a relief to Mimi. She loved her clothes passionately, spending a fortune on designer labels. Automatically she started picking up her things and then remembered that the police would probably want things left undisturbed. Hastily she checked all the windows and doors, took the doona from her bed and returned to the living room.
"Oh, Poppy, are you okay? Linh is coming, sweetheart," she said, covering Poppy with the doona and caressing the smooth black and tan hair of her head. "Hold on, you'll be fine."
She realised how cold it was in the room. Spring had turned wintry again that day. There had been heavy cloud since the morning which had turned to a constant and dreary downpour. She turned on the electric heater and dragged it over closer to her dog. Mimi usually lit a fire as soon as she arrived home in the evening. However, she was too stunned to think about a fire. It seemed more important to have the instant heat from an electric heater. She sat with the dog, pleading with the fates for Linh to hurry, and the dog to survive.
"Mimi, I'm here," Linh rushed into the room, long black hair flying behind her denim jeans and jacket. "I came as fast as I could, but the traffic was bloody."
"Let me see." Linh knelt down next to Poppy. She very carefully unwrapped the towel until she could see the stomach. Rewrapping the towel, she said, "I'll just leave this as it is for now. Obviously, this needs stitching and I'll have to do it at the surgery under anaesthetic. It looks bad, Mimi, and to be honest it might be. I don't want to unwrap it anymore here. If there's no perforation of the intestine then it won't be too much of a problem. But if it is cut, then, well. Never mind, let's wait and see."
Linh carefully adjusted the towel around Poppy, keeping the stomach intact. Then she ran her hands over the rest of the dog's body, checking for other injuries. Poppy whimpered as she felt around her throat. Linh could feel the bruised and inflamed flesh where the intruders had tightened the silk handkerchief, maliciously torturing the dog.
"This is really weird! It seems to me that whatever bastard did this; he tried to strangle her as well as slice up her stomach. He must be some kind of maniac. There's something definitely wrong here." Linh was talking to herself. "Okay. So they slash at her if she attacks them when they enter. Though, knowing Poppy; she'd only bark. She's not exactly the attack dog type. But still ... supposing she did try to bite ... if they had a knife then they'd slash at her but you'd expect wounds around her face, not her lower stomach ... and why in God's name would they try to strangle her too. You can see from the way she is holding her head and having difficulty breathing. Hey, Mimi, don't faint on me!" Linh noticed that Mimi was going white and swaying.
Mentally cursing herself as an idiot, Linh put Poppy's head gently down and put her arms around her friend. "It's okay. She's going to be fine. Speak to me Mimi. I tell you, it's okay." Linh realised how much Poppy meant to Mimi. Although Mimi never talked about it, Linh knew that Mimi had lost her entire family several years ago and had come to depend on her dog for emotional support. It had always seemed strange to Linh that someone as clever, attractive and popular as Mimi constantly kept the world at a distance, giving all her love only to her dog.
"I'm sorry. I'm fine now. You do what you can for Poppy. I'll call the police. I can cope. It's just scary." Mimi sat down heavily on the sofa. She was shaking. "Are you going to take Poppy with you now? I'd better stay here for the police."
"Yes. She has to be operated on immediately. It'll take a while, but, I promise you she has a good chance. Don't worry about her and don't worry about who did this just yet. Make sure you lock up well until the police come and tell them I'll contact them about Poppy's strange injuries. You'll be fine. Come on Mimi. You can cope. I'll be back to help you as soon as I've fixed up Poppy. So, don't come to the surgery. I'm not officially working this evening so I can come back. Okay?"
Mimi gave herself a mental shake. Falling apart wasn't going to help the situation. "Okay. I'll manage. But if you could come back that would be great. Look after Poppy.... Bye bye sweetheart. Linh will look after you." she said, caressing Poppy's head.
Linh gathered Poppy into her arms and strode over to the door. She was concerned about leaving Mimi but knew that it was vital to operate on Poppy as soon as possible. However, it worried her that there was obviously some kind of maniac loose.
The police had come and gone. The squad car had been very prompt. The two officers, short blonde hair and immaculate uniforms, had arrived and immediately had rung for a crime scene officer. They'd sat Mimi down at the table—name, address, age. What had been taken, approximate value? Each item to be described separately, each valued separately. Mimi thought she would scream. They had to do their job but she wasn't coping. Describe what happened to the dog. Disapproval that the dog had been taken away. But, yes, they understood that she had had to be attended to. They would call Ms Nguyen for a statement on the dog's injuries. They were polite but non committal. Probably kids, they thought. It usually is, they said. Funny though, that they should smash the TV and CD player rather than steal them. You're a teacher, aren't you, they had said. Are you sure this is not someone from your school who has a grudge against you? Mimi had tried to explain that the place she taught wasn't the usual sort of school and the students weren't the types who trashed people's houses. The police looked disbelieving. The crime scene officer, Trisha, a young woman in jeans and white shirt had driven up in her unmarked car. She had been hopeful of finding prints. Amateurs, she had said. No socks. Socks? queried Mimi. On their hands. Oh, said Mimi. Trisha had been pleased to find several good prints on the window which they had smashed.
She had shone her torch sideways onto the glass and picked up prints. Also she had said there were good prints made with the dog's blood. Mimi had thought she would faint at this, and the policeman who seemed to be in charge had suggested that since they had finished with the kitchen; perhaps she should sit there and make herself a cup of tea. Mimi wasn't sure if he was merely being kind or wanted to get her out of the way, but she was grateful anyway. She was impressed with their efficiency, but wanted them gone. They had said, on parting that finding who had done this was usually difficult unless the fingerprints matched someone on file. They said they would door knock the neighbourhood in case anyone had seen anything, but didn't hold out a lot of hope. They would also send out the tracker dogs to trace the blood drips. Difficult in the rain, though. They would be in touch if anything eventuated. Was Mimi sure that no one had a grudge against her? But, not to worry they would certainly investigate. There were too many of these sorts of crimes. The public were getting very upset. Oh, and by the way, sorry about your dog. Not very usual to savage a dog.
After they had gone Mimi began the cleanup. She had wanted nothing more than to sit down and cry herself into hysterics, but had realised the stupidity of this. She always prided herself on her ability to cope, so had sensibly changed from her cream woollen suit, noticing for the first time the bloodstains, and had donned an old pair of denim jeans and a blue sweatshirt which she usually wore when gardening.
Deciding that the first priority was to get rid of all the broken things, she carried all the large items out the back and put them near the garbage to be got rid of later. She then took a large heavy duty garbage bag to fill with all the smaller smashed pieces and food that had been thrown around the room. She cleaned the entire kitchen wiping out cupboards and replacing pots and pans and cutlery back into drawers. She threw out all the food in the refrigerator even if it didn't appear to have been touched. She couldn't bear the thought of using any food that had possibly been tampered with. Satisfied at last that the kitchen was tidy and promising herself that the next day she would have a cleaning company come and scrub the whole place through, she went into the dining room to start tidying. It was then she noticed the missing items that usually decorated the top of the dresser. Too stunned to think straight, she had told the police there was nothing missing but realised when she went through the mess that two of her brass vases from India, an ivory prayer wheel from Nepal and her collection of brass and copper jewellery moulds she had collected from all over India, Pakistan and Bangladesh were also gone. It seemed odd to her that these had been taken. None of them were particularly valuable. The vases and the prayer wheel had been given to her as presents and did not mean a lot to her, but she was upset about the jewellery moulds. They were exquisite small pieces of ornate brass and copper which had been used as moulds for making gold jewellery. They were quite old and she'd bought them one by one in the bazaars of Delhi, Rawalpindi and Dacca on her last trip with her family. They had great sentimental value to her and she was devastated that they had gone.
Some hours later, she had finished cleaning. Fortunately she had found a glazier who had been able to come immediately to replace the broken glass and, apart from the loss of the jewellery moulds, she felt that she had been lucky as far as her possessions were concerned. The only substantial items smashed were the TV and CD player and that must have been done at the last minute for spite. It seemed that whoever it was had definitely been searching for something. She couldn't think what they had wanted. The only worry now was Poppy's condition. Linh had not called. Mimi hoped that everything was going well at the veterinary hospital where Linh was a partner. She could not bear the thought of losing Poppy. Since losing her family she had stayed aloof from relationships. All her love had gone to her little dog. Losing Poppy would be like losing her family again.
Mimi only lived in this townhouse three nights a week while she worked at a private school. Her main residence was the property that she had inherited from her parents outside of Canberra. The property was too far from Canberra for her to commute to work, so she had bought the townhouse to live in during the week. She loved her property and had also inherited a great deal of money from her family, and so she did not need to work. However, she felt the need for getting away for a few days a week and when the job of part time teaching environmental studies at an elite and progressive school for girls had become vacant she had applied and won the job. She was very contented with her life. She enjoyed teaching the girls and still had four days a week at her property. She had a manager to look after the day to day running of the place and she and Poppy looked forward to the long weekends in her beautiful old house. This was where she kept all her valuable possessions, so she wondered why anyone would be interested in her townhouse.
It was puzzling. Mimi couldn't think of anyone who had a grudge against her and certainly the girls she taught all seemed to like her. They had recently voted her most popular teacher. Maybe, it was just some particularly vicious kids. Mimi agreed with the police that it was certainly not a professional break in. A security system had better be installed.
Mimi had just started flicking through the yellow pages looking for firms who could organise a security system for her when she heard a car pull up in her driveway. She smiled when she heard Linh's footsteps clattering down her front steps leading to the doorway. Linh had a way of taking everything at a run that made the sounds of her movements very distinctive. Linh had been the only close friend that Mimi had allowed herself during the last few years. They had met when Mimi had found Poppy as a stray in the country. Poppy had obviously been dumped one summer. She was six months old, starving and pregnant and had wandered up to Mimi's country house. It was an immediate bonding for both Poppy and Mimi. Mimi had taken Poppy to the local vet near her townhouse as she had heard they were very competent. Linh had been on duty that evening and had checked Poppy over and advised Mimi on looking after her new pet. Poppy had had to return several times as the pregnancy had been difficult and Mimi and Linh had discovered they had a lot in common during these visits and had become firm friends.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Hand of Kaliby Freya Dauth Copyright © 2012 by Freya Dauth. Excerpted by permission of Balboa Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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