Aditi clears her throat and is tapping her finger on the table. There’s more. She seems to be thinking before continuing. “One of your friends also said that you’d once said, you’d like to be raped. Is that true?”
“That was a stupid joke. We’d gone rafting in Rishikesh. We were all fooling around. It was a dumb joke.” I try to laugh but the two grim faces stare back at me.
“You joked about being raped, Myra?” when she asks it like that, I realize what a dumb thing it was to say. But then in my defence, I had been high that time. Like, really high. It was freezing on the banks of the Ganges. There was a bonfire raging. Everyone was drinking and smoking a really strong joint. We were all saying idiotic things. Sulakshna, the one who had told the cops this, didn’t tell them that she’d said she wanted to do a full strip tease in a bar. Hridi had said she wants to pick up a man in a bar, have sex with him and then not remember his name. Arjun said he wanted a threesome. We were playing a game: what’s the wildest thing you’d like to happen? Someone, I don’t remember who, had said he’d like to watch a jugular being slashed. Blood gushing out like a geyser.
“No, please you’re getting this wrong and out of context.” I place my hand on the table and lean towards the faces that are staring at me. I need them to see my point. “That night, we were all drunk. Very drunk. A bunch of us had just finished a crazy turbulent rapid. Adrenalin was sky high and then we were drinking. We were all talking nonsense. We were playing a stupid game that was not to be taken seriously at all. Everyone said something horrible and moronic; none of us meant it. Haven’t you ever done something stupid and not meant it?”
In reply, I get blank faces and I realize they probably have never. But what’s the point of living if you don’t do something idiotic and reckless once in a while? To be safe all the time, that’s not living. That’s just surviving. I don’t believe in mere survival. I live life. I don’t tell them all this. They wouldn’t get it anyway.
“To clarify, I didn’t say get raped; I said bondage sex.”
Aditi doesn’t even try to hide plain disgust on her face. “Let me get this straight. You think bondage sex is fun? To be tied up and beaten?”
I think she’ll make a great dominatrix. I try not to smile as the image floats up in my head.
“She’s smiling. Look at her, sir!” She’s clearly upset and is looking at her superior officer. “She thinks this is a joke.”
“Aditi, I’ll take over from here.” The DIG speaks up.
“Myra, I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation.” I hate it when people try to sound friendly when they have no bloody intention of being remotely friendly. He has that fake tone. A fake friend. Neither of them feels any remorse about what I have endured.
“No, Sir. I understand very well. I don’t think you and your team get it. I was raped. In my house. In my bedroom by someone I know. I invited the person in. I thought I’d invited my friends but one of them came with a drug that he put in my drink to knock me out and then led me to my bedroom where he raped me. He knows where I keep my bedsheets, he knows my home inside out. And your colleague,” I point at Aditi sitting on my left without looking in her direction, “is asking questions about my sexual behaviour.”
My voice is trembling and I can feel tears rolling out. I don’t try to stop them. “I said something idiotic while on a holiday, drunk out of my wits. And all of you think that one of my friends decided to grant me my wish. But that’s not the truth. Someone did this to hurt me. I said no. I said no again and again but he didn’t stop.”
“Both of you look very polished and classy…in this spruced-up office of yours. But you are no better than the half-educated medical examiner or that Inspector Dipti who asked me crudely if I was wearing a bra? She insinuated that I deserve getting raped because my skirt was tiny and here…now, both of you are saying that because I made an idiotic comment a year ago… it means I invited someone to rape me.”
“Maybe you did.” I spin around to look at Aditi as she says it.
“What the …” I stop myself from mouthing the obscenity.
“Come to think of it. You love living on the edge. Doing wild things. What’s the hashtag you use…#livewild #livefree…am I right? You’re all over Instagram. #freespirit that’s another one you use.” Someone has combed through my insta feeds with great care and attention. She is picking up lines and words I’ve written in my posts, and is using them to make me feel bad.
“You like being wild and free. So I think yes, this is one of your friends giving you what you wanted.” She snaps the file shut and sits down.
“I have nothing more to say, officer. All of you have made up your mind.” I sink back in the chair. I feel exhausted and defeated.
Aditi and her boss exchange looks.
“There is no case we can build on. There’s no semen, no nail marks or bite marks. There’s no evidence of any struggle or physical assault on you. Like you’d been tied up or beaten. Yes, you were drugged but then your friends have confessed that you have willingly, in the past popped a club drug. Just for fun. From what we have, it seems like you had too much to drink, popped a pill, then had sex with one of the men at the party and fell asleep. When you woke up you had no recollection of it. Excess of alcohol does that. Cause momentary memory loss. Maybe it will come back in a few days.”
He pauses and Aditi adds. “We could slap a case of possession of illegal drugs on you, Myra. But we don’t want to do that. We know for a fact that there wasn’t just alcohol at the party that night. But let’s not go there.” She tilts her head and looks at me.
Her tone, what she just said… it makes me want to scream. Instead of believing me, she is threatening me. I push the chair and stand up, startling them. “I have never been more humiliated in my life as I have been here in the past hour.” I check my watch.
“You can do what you want. Close the case. Blame me if you want but I’m the victim here. I didn’t ask for this. Someone did it on purpose and I’ll find out who did this.” I walk out before any of them say anything.
I sit in my car and pound my fists on the wheel. How is this even possible? I do the one thing I always do when in trouble or otherwise. I call Hridi. She picks up the phone in one ring.
“I’ve been waiting for your call, My.”
“It was horrible, Hri. Just plain awful.”
“Tell me about it.”
“They said, they have no case. No evidence against anyone. No evidence of an assault. That I made it up to make Arjun jealous. They are closing the case, Hri. They fucking threatened me. Said, I had illegal drugs at the party. I roofied myself…” I’m screaming. I feel like punching someone.
“Can you fucking believe the cops in our country, Hri?? They are accusing me of making a false case!”
Chapter 11. Dipti
“Madamji…” Sonali was terrified of the quick-tempered Dipti and it showed on her face every time she addressed her. Dipti didn’t do anything to assuage her fear, in fact, behaved even more rough with the hapless girl.
“What?” she replied keeping her eyes shut tight. She was having a good morning. After two cups of steaming masala chai, she’d shut her eyes for a mid-morning nap when Sonali came bouncing in. Her constant enthusiasm and ever-bubbly nature had earned her the moniker of Duracell bunny, something she wasn’t aware of.
“I found something in one of the Instagram posts. One of Myra’s friends Anahita has posted a picture on her Instagram page this morning.” Sonali bent closer as she showed the phone screen to Dipti, who let out an irritated sigh and stared at the young girl who expected to be patted on the back for good work. Dipti sat up straight and zoomed into the picture to see it clearly.
As she zoomed in, she sat up straighter, her incomplete nap forgotten.
The picture was a selfie from the night of the party clicked by Anahita in the lobby of the tower Myra stayed in. A cascading waterfall over a glass panel was switched on every evening, the overhead light s
hining on it. It made the perfect backdrop for a picture and Anahita was doing exactly that – using the backdrop to take a selfie. However, in the picture, it wasn’t just she and the waterfall. Someone was standing behind her, beside the edge of the waterfall.
Arjun! The picture was time-stamped at 12.05 am.
Arjun was there. At the lobby of Myra’s tower on the night…early morning of the party!
“Sonali! How did we miss this picture?” Dipti yelled out. The entire team had been instructed to go through every picture on Instagram with a fine-toothed comb. How was this one missed?
“Madam, this picture was posted today morning.” Sonali moved aside as Dipti sprung out of her chair.
“Are you absolutely sure Sonali?” Dipti grabbed the phone and looked at it again. “Absolutely sure that the picture was posted today?”
“Yes, Madam. I’m absolutely sure. The picture was posted half an hour back. It wasn’t there earlier.” Sonali repeated, her eyes confident and sure.
Dipti grabbed the phone, pounded her fist on the table as she muttered to herself, “Ab dekh saale, tera kya haal karti hoon.”
She secured the search warrant for Arjun’s flat and got into the driver’s seat of the police jeep. Sonali got in beside her and few other male constables accompanied her in the police van that followed her jeep. She liked to drive, curl her fingers on the steering wheel and press her foot on the accelerator. As the siren shrieked, making way through the traffic while cars, people, cyclists, bikes…everything and everyone jumped out of her path, making way for her. People on the road looked at the vehicle and the woman behind the wheel and wondered what was the commotion all about.
Dipti kept her foot on the accelerator as cars scuttled away from her path. She thought to herself; ‘Bastard. He lied to my face, saying he wasn’t there. He was and now I have proof!’
In less than ten minutes, Dipti and her entourage were at the door of Arjun’s pad on the 21st floor of Sky Heights. A hapless and terrified Mukesh opened the door; he had been informed by the guards at the main gate about the arrival of the cops. He’d rushed to Arjun’s room and banged on the door; banging and screaming at the same time. Something he had never ever done. A docile and very well-trained domestic help, Mukesh had been with the family for decades. When Arjun bought his flat in Sky Heights declaring to his parents that he needed to be on his own, alone and away from them; they had acquiesced but insisted on sending Mukesh along with him; to cook, clean, mind the house, and basically take care of Arjun Baba. Arjun hadn’t protested because while he loved his independence, he didn’t want to be tied down to managing the basic mundane irritants of household running and it was always good to have tasty, home-cooked meals. The very well-trained and honest Mukesh was the best man for the job; he knew he should never be seen or heard; just do his job.
But with the cops on their way up, that was an emergency and the master needed to be informed immediately. So, Mukesh banged and yelled for Arjun.
A very sleepy and irritated Arjun came to the door.
“What the fuck, Mukesh? Have you gone mad?” Arjun had been busy with an event that his company was doing. He was away from home for the past few days and had just returned the previous night, actually in the wee hours of the morning. He had planned to sleep till late.
“Sir…sir…” Mukesh could barely speak, his words getting stuck inside the throat as his heart pounded like a hammer inside. He felt as though he was going to have a cardiac arrest. “Sir…the police…they’re coming up.”
By the time Arjun had time to grab a shirt and slide into a pair of trousers, the bell rang. Mukesh looked like he was going to faint.
“You go to the kitchen. I’ll deal with this.” As soon as he opened the door, Dipti walked right in followed by 5 cops. She waved a sheet of paper in Arjun’s face.
“I have a warrant to search the premise. Don’t get in our way.” She signalled the men to start. Arjun was not one to take things lying down and stood his ground.
“Just a minute, Inspector. Where is this coming from? Why is my house being searched? On what grounds?”
Dipti barely came up to his chest but that didn’t stop her from being assertive. “You lied to us. You were there in Myra’s tower that night. You lied. You said you weren’t. You fought with her two days before the incident. We need to search the premises. Please don’t get in our way or there will be consequences.” Dipti decided she had done enough explaining and clicked her fingers in the direction of the 5 men who stood waiting. Arjun realized it was pointless to argue with her. He stepped aside and called his lawyer.
In less than 10 minutes one of the policemen who had been rummaging through Arjun’s vest and sock drawer walked out into the living room holding an orange lacy bra. As he held the lacy, sexy number in his gloved hand, his face shone with excitement as though he had discovered the Holy Grail. On finding the bra, blood had begun pounding in his head, with thoughts running wild about the full breasts the lace cup encased.
Dipti looked at what was dangling from the constable’s hand and then took out her mobile. Myra had purchased the lingerie ten days before the party and posted it on Instagram. The first picture was of the bra on the bed and in the next, she was wearing it with a sheer white top on; barely concealing her new purchase, her full breasts and the deep valley of her cleavage. She knew the right angle to click a picture. It not only showed the bra well but also her full figure. Dipti looked at the two pictures, alternating between the first and second and then at the lacy number in the constable’s hand. Apart from the picture, Myra had described what she had worn underneath the tangerine body clinging top on the night of the party.
“Yes. This is the same one.” She looked at Arjun, who had surprise stamped all over his face. Surprise that gave way to a look that would be best describes as what-the-fuck look.
“What is this? I have never seen this. Whose bra is this?” his eyes widened.
“This is your girlfriend’s bra. It has been missing since the night of the rape.
The night you said you weren’t anywhere near her house but this picture shows otherwise.” Dipti flicked her screen on her mobile to the screenshot of Anahita’s Instagram post. She allowed a second or two to pass, waiting to see what his face would reveal but Arjun still looked like he had no clue what was happening. She just moved her eye to the cop on her right. Just a look from her and he knew what had to be done.
“What the fuck!? What is happening?” Arjun jumped up defensively as the constable neared him and was about to cuff his wrists. “There’s a big misunderstanding.” Fear crept into his voice and he licked his lips that felt dry. “I have no idea how that…that thing landed up in my closet. I didn’t do anything.” Dipti scratched the inside of her ear and tilted her head. The constable who stood with the cuffs neared Arjun while two others approached him from the front. It was clear he wasn’t going to go quietly and a big man like Arjun was not going to be easy to tackle.
“Don’t make this hard for yourself, Arjun. You need to come with us to the station for questioning.”
“You can’t humiliate me like this. Putting cuffs on me like a fucking common criminal. I have done nothing. I was nowhere near her house that night. My lawyer will be here in no time. I need to make a call. I want to call him. I have the right to make a call.”
“Sab saale Hotstar aur Netflix dekh ke, apne aap ko amerikan samjte hain.” Dipti smirked and walked on towards the inside of the house. “You’ve already called your lawyer. Who else do you want to call? Modi?”
“I’m telling you Inspector, this is Myra’s doing. She is getting back at me. There has been no rape. This is she and that loyal pooch of hers - Hridi; their idea. They are stuck to each other like lesbian lovers. They planned this to get back at me. Hridi hates me because Myra is in love with me. I’m telling you.” Arjun began screaming at the top of his voice, the veins in his neck standing out, his eyes bulging out of the socket; as he entered the elevator with the constables
.
“Don’t put him in the cell. Keep him in the waiting room. I want to look around here for some time and will return soon.” Dipti instructed the senior constable.
She knew that the charges and evidence against Arjun weren’t enough to keep him behind bars, he was too well-connected, rich and influential but still, she had barged into his plush, well-appointed and opulent home that screamed his bank balance, waved the search warrant in his face and then have her men lead him away. Everything about the case, Myra, her sexual sensual brazenness, her life on Instagram that she posted about wantonly, without a care in the world, Arjun; his perfume, the well-ironed shirts, his condescending look and slow drawl as he spoke, as though he were speaking with an imbecile. Everything irritated Dipti. More than everything, it was the houses they lived in. The lives they led. So rich, so full of money and every possible thing that money could buy. The rich silk carpet that lay on the shining white marble floor. The soft cushions on the sofa that one could sink into. The fall of the drape of the curtains. Everything. It was a life that Dipti hadn’t even known about. It was so far away from her reality that even in her dreams, it came nowhere close to what she saw. She wanted Arjun to be guilty. She wanted his rich monied gym-toned ass to sit on the dirty prison floor. A part of her wanted to prove that Myra had staged it and make her pay for it.
However, she realized that if she proved that Myra had staged the whole thing; that would acquit Arjun and if Arjun was proven to be guilty then Myra was indeed a victim. She rued the fact that both couldn’t be guilty. She would have preferred that. Both of them guilty and behind bars.
She walked into Arjun’s bedroom as Mukesh stood few steps behind her, looking like a scared mangy pup. Arjun had yelled to him. “Don’t let that woman alone in any room Mukesh. Be with her. God knows what else she will plant and hold me responsible for.” Mukesh did as he was told though he would have preferred locking himself in his room.
Eye On You Page 7