It was the boy! He hadn’t left after all. My lips curled at the thought that he’d heard his mother’s confessions. Would he understand? Today’s kids…possibly, yes.
I put my hand on the door knob with a feeling of relief. I would go straight home and fix myself a stiff drink. It had been a hard day’s work and I was thirsty. To be honest I needed it to steady my nerve again.
A shrill scream―‘Nooo’ echoed through the near empty flat.
Already jumpy, I started violently and began to turn when I heard a crack and a tremendous burning sensation lanced through my head. I staggered and hit the door with my face.
I brought my hand up to where it hurt most. Wet. My hand came away red. Blood.
I slid to the floor and finally came to rest on one cheek.
Complete silence reigned for an eternity with my occasional sob breaking the silence. ‘Help, help me,’ I finally gulped. Every word hurt like the devil.
Whoever had screamed had fallen silent now. A lifetime went by and my head started to reel. ‘Hospital… please…’ I gasped, ‘…all will be for…for…given.’
There was a sound of a scuffle. I heard Deepa say, ‘Let go, I tell you, let go!’
Pain ripped through me again with a second impact.
There was another shriek. ‘No, no, Arun stop it!’
‘He was going to hurt us, he has hurt us for so long! I knew there was something wrong with us…and now I know it’s him! I heard everything!’ The boy’s voice broke on the last word.
‘Arun, put the bat down,’ Deepa’s voice whispered. ‘Everything was going to be alright; I had a plan… Arun, what have you done? It was just a few pictures, nothing would have happened!’
‘I just wanted to protect you!’
I heard the heavy wooden thunk of something hitting the floor. The sobs of the boy mingled with mine.
I could feel blood pumping out of the open wound. I so hated pain, I opened my mouth to beg again, but no words came out.
My eyes started to see only white…oh God no…did I not pray every morning, did I deserve this?
My ears started to fade as well, but I heard the mother whisper to the son with tenderness, ‘Don’t worry, Arun, I’m good at keeping secrets….’
My ears buzzed tremendously, and then there was nothing.
******
Acknowledgements
I must thank those among my friends and family who always encourage me to be a better writer. Especially my long-suffering beta-readers and motivators―Sarbari Dasgupta, Prithwiraj and Anindita Sen, Debjeet Basu, Haimanti Basu and Nandini Bhattacharya. A Killer Among Us is a better book because of your advice and support.
There were a few people who advised me on some technical points in this book. If some errors have still got past, it is entirely their fault; not mine. Jokes apart, this is a work of fiction more focussed on entertaining than educating, so I plead poetic license.
For readers who didn’t know me, my debut novel Kathputli was yet another self-published book by a nobody author. Quite a few readers, however, did give it a chance and went on to spread the word among other book lovers. Though a seemingly small gesture, it meant everything to a first-time author. It is a pleasantly long list, so I will just say, you know who you are―thank you. I hope you enjoy my second book too!
My profound gratitude to Readomania for publishing A Killer Among Us. Indrani Ganguly, my editor, has greatly improved this book with her ministrations.
Particular thanks are due to my daughter Mia, who is the reason I get out of bed every morning. It is difficult to write a book in bed, as everyone will agree.
And very importantly, I am grateful to my friends and neighbours at Cinnamon, for not being anything like the people I describe in this book.
USHASI SEN BASU
Bangalore, 2020
About the Author
Ushasi Sen Basu holds a master’s degree in English Literature from Jadavpur University, Kolkata. She has been a professional writer and editor for nearly a decade and a half, and is the erstwhile editor-in-chief of SiyaWoman.com. Ushasi’s debut novel Kathputli, a contemporary literary fiction novel, was published in 2017. She lives in Bangalore with her husband and daughter. A Killer Among Us is her second novel. To know more about her, visit her website ushasisenbasu.com or her author page on Facebook (@ushasikathputli).
Glossary
Achha: Okay
Aloor dum: A spicy potato curry
Aloor paratha: A flatbread filled with potato stuffing
Amrita-r Shongshaar: Amrita’s household
Anchal: Part of the sari that hangs down the back of the wearer from the shoulder in pleats
Arre: An exclamation used to express annoyance, surprise, or interest, or to attract someone's attention
Arre hyan: Oh yes
Baap re: An exclamation that indicates exasperation that roughly translates to ‘oh father’
Babu: A term of respect for a man
Bapi: Endearing way of addressing one’s father in Bangla
Besan: Gramflour
Bolo: Tell me
Boti: A traditional Bengali cutting instrument that one has to squat on the floor to use. The advantage is you can grasp the vegetable with both hands and pass it across the curved, sharp blade easily
Boudi: Sister-in-law, but often used by domestic help to indicate a female employer
Chaa and taa: Literally ‘tea, etc.’
Chhee: Exclamation of disgust
Chhuti: Holiday
Chomchom: A syrupy Bengali sweet
Dabba: Container
Dada: Elder brother
Double deemer maamlette: Omelette made with two eggs
Ei: Here! / hey!
Elam: Literally meaning ‘I have come’, but a polite way of saying ‘I’m leaving’
Gajagamini: A woman of a stately (elephantlike) walk.
Hai bhogobaan: Oh God!
Hoi-choi: Uproar
Hyan: Yes
Jota: (in this context) messy topknot
Jyetha: Older brother/cousin of father
Jyethi: Wife of older brother/cousin of father
Jyethimoni: Affectionate name for wife of older brother/cousin of father
Kalamkari: A type of hand-painted or block-printed cotton textile
Keema ghoogni: Chickpeas with minced meat
Keemar bora: Meatballs
Kosha mangsho: A slow-cooked Bengali mutton dish
Luchi: A deep-fried, puffed-up flatbread made of refined flour
Maachher chop: A savoury snack made with fish and mashed potato
Ma-Baba: Parents
Mashima: Literally maternal aunt, but used in a generic way to politely address elderly women
Mishti: Sweets
Mishti doi: Sweet curd
Mora: Low seat made of bamboo
Na: No
Panchmeshali torkari: Vegetable curry with five kinds of vegetables
Phatak: The sound of something ricocheting back, or hitting a hard surface
Phulkopi bhaja: Fried cauliflower florets
Poitrik: Ancestral (on the father’s side)
Poitrik bari: Ancestral (on the father’s side) home
Pujo: Durga Puja festival
Raita: An Indian side dish of yogurt containing chopped cucumber or other vegetables, and spices
Saunf: Fennel, often given after meals as a digestive in restaurants
Shaheb: Saheb
Shingaras: Bengali name for samosa, a small triangular case of pastry with a meat or vegetable filling
Shon papdi: Cube-shaped sweet that has a crisp and flaky texture
Shona: Literally ‘gold’, but used as an endearment
Shukto: A Bengali vegetarian dish
Shunchhen?: Are you listening?
Thali: A set meal at an Indian restaurant
Thana: Police station
Toh: A filler word like ‘so’
Yaar: Informal, friendly form of address, literally means ‘friend�
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