The Darya Nandkarni Misadventures Omnibus: Books 1-3

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The Darya Nandkarni Misadventures Omnibus: Books 1-3 Page 23

by Smita Bhattacharya


  And then, there was the question of her uncle's death—could he be involved? He was a doctor after all, he must know his way with syringes.

  And... so... was she going to be next?

  Stop! He may not know anything.

  She wanted to stop but the questions were too many.

  How did Vidisha and he know each other? How had he managed to find lodgings at Constellation? Why had he been talking with those people Darya now assumed were from the Halogen group?

  And then... there was also what she'd seen—an hour ago—her absolute worst moment in Goa. The fucking pits. How many times was she going to be taken in? How had she not seen through all this?

  Everything was so mixed up. So many missing pieces still...

  A soft grunt escaped her.

  She gathered the newspapers, folded them, and tucked them back under the mattress.

  She wasn't going to tell her father anything. He was in a hurry to dispose everything off and move out of Heliconia Lane. He wanted the past forgotten. A clean break. But she... she couldn't do it yet.

  So, what do I do?

  She sat with her shoulders slumped. Thought hard.

  What could she do?

  She thought, considering the alternatives, chewing on her lip as she appraised and discarded them.

  Then... she decided.

  She was going to confront them—this caravan of phantoms from the past. They had crafted a web around her, sucked her in, fooled her with their lies until she was unable to separate reality from fabrication.

  No more. Not any longer.

  This was going to end the way she wanted.

  Considering the circumstances, she slept soundly enough. Two hours later she woke up, feeling better than before.

  She walked out into the garden. But unlike every day, did not turn to gaze at the sea. She looked up at the sky instead. The sun rays leached out from the dark clouds and fell on her face.

  She closed her eyes, feeling their welcome warmth, drinking in the heavy scent of moisture in the air.

  ‘It's going to rain,’ a voice said next to her.

  She knew who it was but didn't want to open her eyes. Not yet.

  Go... go away. Life... reality... go away.

  ‘You look tired.’

  He wasn't going to give up, was he?

  Reluctantly, Darya opened her eyes. Turned to look at him.

  Aaron was leaning against the fence. Vidisha was a few feet away, on her mobile. She nodded cursorily at Darya, making a sign she'd join them after her call ended.

  Keeping her voice level, Darya said, ‘Normally, a thunderstorm would be a relief, but I was looking forward to the carnival.’

  ‘What carnival?’ Vidisha asked. She'd finished her call and was walking over to them.

  ‘Bong-Bong Bohemia,’ Aaron said. Then noting Darya's questioning face added, ‘Francis told me.’

  ‘Oh, ya, that one,’ Vidisha nodded. ‘It was very popular when we were children. It's eighteen plus entry. We died to be eighteen so we could go.’

  ‘Did you ever?’ Aaron asked.

  ‘No,’ Vidisha replied.

  ‘Did you?’ Darya asked Aaron.

  He paused and stared at her, as if sensing the implication.

  ‘No, but I've heard a lot about it,’ he said finally.

  A heavy silence. It had turned uncomfortable without her even trying.

  This was as good a time as any to set her plan in motion.

  She turned towards them. Put on a smile, ‘What are you guys doing tomorrow?’ she asked.

  ‘Nothing as such,’ Vidisha said. Aaron shrugged.

  ‘How would you like to celebrate the carnival at my house?’ she asked with a flourish.

  They stared back at her, perplexed, not understanding.

  ‘I'm going to be leaving soon and was thinking of having a party before I go—a party at Sea Swept—like the old times.’ She turned to Vidisha. ‘You remember, right?’

  Vidisha nodded slowly.

  Darya continued. ‘I was thinking of holding a carnival themed party.’

  Aaron looked intrigued, Vidisha suspicious.

  ‘Do you have anything at home to hold a party with?’ she asked.

  ‘A friend has promised to help out,’ Darya said.

  ‘Which friend?’ she asked.

  ‘An old friend,’ Darya said. ‘A family friend. Trustworthy. In fact, he owns a tent at the carnival. He can make all the arrangements.’

  Vidisha threw a glance at Aaron.

  ‘What do you think?’

  Aaron shrugged. ‘Who else is coming?’ he asked.

  ‘I just thought of the plan,' Darya said. ‘But I expect not too many.’

  ‘We will be there,' Vidisha said, her wariness gone, exuberance back.

  ‘By the way, Vidisha, how's Gaurav?’ Darya asked.

  A hood dropped over her eyes. Then lifted.

  ‘We moved him to Apollo Healthcare. He's still in coma,’ she murmured. ‘Hope he gets better soon.’

  ‘And the police...,’ Darya paused, ‘did you go to—?’

  ‘No,’ she said tersely, her eyes darting to Aaron who stared at his feet. ‘I'll talk to you about it later.’

  ‘There's much to talk about,’ Darya muttered. Then glancing at the time on her phone realized she had to leave. There were a lot of things left for her to do. A lot.

  She addressed Aaron. ‘Is Francis at the bookstore?’

  He nodded.

  ‘And you're here because...’ she pointed a finger at Vidisha.

  Another nod. He seemed distracted all of a sudden, perhaps picking up on Darya's aloofness towards him.

  ‘Okay, got to go now,’ Darya said. ‘Hope to see you at my party tomorrow. Oh, and by the way, my friend's name is Alexander D'Penha, also known as Oolo. He's a great party organizer, a magician and all that. You'll see.’

  She had to make three stops to set her plan in motion.

  She knew she needed to make them confess. If she asked directly, they'd never admit to anything. They'd been very clever until now. But if she shocked them into it—

  First the cybercafé. Settling into the high back chair, she opened up the search engine and typed. Her mind raced. Her fingers flew. She read. Checked the YouTube videos. An hour later, she got up, paid and left.

  Next she went to Vatkola, to meet Veronica and Joseph but most importantly, to meet Oolo. She asked him—no, pleaded with him—for his help, telling him her plan or as much as she could. He finally agreed, after much hemming and hawing.

  And last, she visited Inspector Nourahno. The conversation took longer than she'd expected but he seemed to be convinced in the end. He was going to give her a chance and that was all she needed. She hoped not to disappoint him and begged him to be discreet.

  Climbing into the taxi she'd hired for the day because she could no longer use the Djinn, she took a deep breath and stared at the overcast sky.

  She was not going to let them have their way, even if it meant putting her life in danger.

  She wasn't going to let the residents of Heliconia Lane get away with their dirty, little secrets anymore.

  Bohemia

  Good job, Oolo!

  Darya's eyes ran through the courtyard of Sea Swept, now transformed into something akin a medieval banquet hall. Arabian Night-esque splendour. Fumes. Lights. Purple clouds. Sweet jasmine and wine.

  A thin purple tufted carpet covered the floor. In the centre, set in a circle, were seven cream coloured upholstered chairs. An empty wooden table was placed in between. Another table was some distance away, next to the telephone. This one was laden with food: sugar crusted cookies, sweet bebinca and coconut cakes. Holding pride of place on it were also two large canisters to dispense drinks. Darya had poured margarita in one of them and port wine in the other.

  In other touches of Oolo's party organizing genius, a glittering crystal drum chandelier hung from the ceiling, throwing sparklers on the floor, lighting up the mural on
the wall like a fairy tale setting. A purple dancing fountain played soft Baglama music in one corner, spraying a mild scent of jasmine in the air as the stream of water rose, gushed forth and fell.

  Darya was pleased with the arrangements. The scene was set exactly as she'd imagined it.

  But it was not so much how it looked, but what was not-to-be-seen-but-around that made the difference.

  The purple fumes... from the purple salt.

  An array of beakers, burners and burettes had been set up under the food-laden table, hidden from plain view by a chequered tablecloth in red and white. They carried liquids of various colours: yellow, blue, purple. Mostly purple. A cluster of bubbles rose from them every now and then accompanied by a sour banana-pomegranate smell.

  Is it safe? Darya had asked Oolo.

  Totally. No worries. The fumes numbed the brain. It was like being in a state of transitory paralysis where the mind could reason, even panic, but the body couldn't move. It worked even better in combination with alcohol. The effect lasted up to three hours after which the apparatus needed to be refilled. An antidote lessened the impact. It was not harmful or addictive at all.

  Crazy Calm. That's what it should be called, Darya thought.

  Yes, it was exactly as she'd imagined it; the hint of rain and a rocky sea outside, a mellow, lulling purple haze inside. It was going to be a crazy night, Darya thought, as she helped Oolo set up. He had brought along two of his thug-looking, heavily-tattooed friends who threw wary glances at her from time to time. And complained.

  ‘What and all you are making me do?’

  ‘How long to do this drama?’

  ‘I don't want any police and all. Please, nothing bad on my name.’

  Darya was careful not to display her mirth in front of them. She needed their backing until her plan had been executed to the very end. And only Oolo knew that there was going to be police around; Darya had managed to convince him with spirited assurances that he'd nothing to fear and this was in pursuit of a whole different set of crimes altogether.

  She had called up Inspector Nourahno and explained to him in brief what she was setting out to do. On the surface, he seemed displeased by the plan and expressed it vociferously too. But Darya sensed he was actually quite thrilled at the prospect of being around if this played out till the end. In a stroke of self-confessed brilliance, she requested the inspector to deploy a plainclothes policeman inside the house—undercover in the party—to pose as one of Oolo's men—an eyewitness, carrying a tape recorder or radio transmitter. He could control the situation in case something went wrong. The inspector went one step further and put two more of his constables on duty. They were to wait at a police car nearby. Three hours was all she was going to get from him.

  Three hours. She had to make each minute count.

  She rung Francis up.

  ‘Where are you?’ he asked, sounding troubled.

  She spoke quietly, ‘Listen. Something's about to happen tonight. I need your help.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ the concern in his voice deepened. ‘What's about to happen?’

  She held a short mental debate wondering how much to tell him. Should she prepare him at all? In the end, she decided not to. Surprise was an important element in her plan and the lesser people knew about it, the better.

  ‘Don't ask too much,’ she said, trying to sound cross. ‘Can you just show up to help me?’

  ‘Help with what, Darya?’ Francis asked, a hint of impatience in his voice.

  She took a deep breath and announced with aplomb—

  A party.

  ‘Oh, yeah?’ he asked, sounding sceptical. ‘You're throwing a party?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘So, you want my help organizing it?’ he asked.

  ‘No, not organizing it. Everything's under control,’ Darya said. ‘The party is at Sea Swept... at my uncle's villa,’ she added.

  There was a faint sound of surprise at the other end.

  ‘How come?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, I'm leaving soon and...,’ she thought quickly, ‘and this seemed like a good way to end the trip. A grand finale. Gloire et triomphe.’

  ‘What?’ he asked, confused.

  ‘Nothing.’ She bit her nail.

  ‘Who else is coming?’ Francis asked. The disquiet hadn't left his voice.

  ‘Some people I know,’ Darya murmured.

  ‘Who?’ Francis asked.

  ‘You come; you'll get to know everything. It'll be great fun, I promise you.’ Her voice dropped to an urgent whisper. ‘There's a lot to update you on. Come and I'll tell you... and listen, come at ten. Not a minute later or before.’

  ‘Why ten? It's late.’

  ‘Just... trust me,’ Darya said impatiently.

  ‘Yeah, okay,’ he replied, sounding subdued by her snappiness but let it go.

  Then in a low voice that Darya hoped was reassuring and full of promise, she added, ‘Just... just come... come on time and we will have a night to remember.’

  When they ended the call, Darya felt regret at not having handled that well. Her anxiety was getting the better of her.

  She called her father next. She knew she had to sell this one good.

  ‘Where are you now? Why don't you come to Moonshine?’ he said, as soon as the call went through.

  ‘Pa, how would you like to come to a party tonight?’ Darya cut in.

  ‘What party?’ he asked.

  So many questions.

  ‘A party like the old times,’ Darya said, putting on an air of cheerfulness. ‘I'm organizing a party at Sea Swept.’

  ‘What? In Sea Swept?’ her father exclaimed. His voice rose several notches. ‘Are you mad? What is there to hold a party with? No furniture, no plates, nothing.’

  ‘I'm getting stuff on rent,’ she said. ‘I know a few party organizers. Trust me, I've already done everything.’ She stopped. Her voice softened. She cajoled. ‘Think about it, Pa. It would be the last party here. At this house. Like old times.’

  ‘Like old times...,’ he repeated, seeming to mull it over, warming up to the idea. ‘At Sea Swept...’ he murmured.

  ‘Yes, Pa,’ Darya said.

  ‘Will you be singing? Like you used to when you were young?’ he asked hopefully.

  Oh, Pa. Not now.

  ‘No. It's a party, not a talent hunt,’ she responded, with rapidly depleting patience. ‘Plus no one wants to hear me sing. Only you thought I was any good.’ She pleaded, ‘Please come. Anyway, you've nothing to do tonight. Get the Castelinos along. There are many others coming too.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Not so many,’ Darya said hastily. ‘And you know everyone.’

  ‘I hate going out anymore,’ her father grumbled.

  ‘Let's have some fun, Pa. You don't know when you'll be back, right? And Sea Swept is going to be sold. We should keep some good memories,’ she coaxed.

  ‘Okay, alright,’ her father said, giving in. ‘But I'm not sure about Filip and Zabel. After Gaurav's accident, they're a bit subdued. And they could be busy doing other things.’

  ‘Tell them it's a get-together to take their mind off things,’ Darya told him. ‘... also before everything gets sold and we disintegrate.’

  ‘Even so...’ he started.

  ‘You have to get them, Pa.’

  ‘I'm not sure...

  ‘Have to. Have to,’ Darya said emphatically. ‘And come at nine. Sharp.’

  ‘But Darya...’

  ‘Be sure to get them, Pa. It's important. Tell them I'm singing,’ she said.

  ‘Are you?’ her father asked, the hope back in his voice.

  ‘Well, someone's going to,’ Darya said and rang off.

  The clock struck eight.

  Darya sat on one of the chairs. It wobbled. She bent down to check and found a crack on one leg. She groaned, less a reaction to the crack and more to expunge the tension she was feeling. She straightened up again.

  She watched as Oolo walked in and then
out again with his underlings, throwing her looks that were part-accusing, part-fascinated. She smiled back at him, being sure to put on her most amicable expression. She thanked Joseph mentally for his association with Oolo, without whose help this would've been impossible to do. Joseph had wanted to come along, but Veronica had put her foot down. So had Darya. As if she did not have enough to worry about.

  Sub-inspector Kamble had arrived dressed for the party: a fluorescent fractadelic T-shirt and an awkward-length corduroy shorts. He was given a spot by the water fountain. The said location was close to the circle of chairs, yet badly lit enough to be unseen. Oolo and his two boys were going to move in and out of the scene and help with handing out of the food and drinks.

  Darya looked at the time.

  Come on. Come on.

  At ten past eight, the door opened. Aaron and Vidisha walked in.

  ‘Whoa,’ they said together, their eyes widening.

  ‘Good God. What is this?’ Vidisha said, teetering on her high heels. She looked dazed until she spotted Darya. ‘How did that man know...?’ she pointed to Oolo who was waiting by the entrance, looking questioningly at Darya. She waved him a thanks and asked him to go outside.

  ‘He has your names and descriptions,’ Darya explained, edging past the chairs and walking to them. The seams of her blue chiffon maxi flapped around her ankles. If she had to go, she'd go in style, she'd thought when selecting the dress that evening.

  Aaron was looking around suspiciously.

  ‘Where are the others?’ he asked. ‘Who else is coming?’

  ‘They'll arrive soon,’ Darya murmured and hoped that her tone was soothing enough. She was going to be doing a lot of that tonight. ‘I've not invited too many people, and I think you know all.’

  ‘That man outside...,’ Aaron said. ‘I think I've seen him somewhere before...’ his voice trailed off as he tried to remember.

  ‘Never mind that,’ Darya said quickly. ‘Come inside... come with me.’ The numbness she'd been feeling was wearing off and she was grateful. She'd taken the antidote.

  She grabbed Aaron's wrist. He looked at her in surprise. With her other hand, she pulled Vidisha who seemed too astonished to move.

 

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