by Ruchi Singh
Wait a minute! Vikram and Nikhil had met during a trek and Vikram had saved Nikhil's life. Was that really an accident? Was the rope that gave way meant for Nikhil or was it meant for Vikram?
Esha jumped up from the bed and wrote all her hunches as she would write a crime board. It was possible that daija could be an accomplice or the mastermind. Esha recalled that she was speaking to someone that night in the stable. Who could that be? Did that mean that the killer had access to Vikram throughout that weekend? She shuddered at the thought. And she had left him all alone most of the time during those two days—engrossed in her own misery and jealousy. See that's what emotions do to a person, she chided herself. One forgets to be objective and drops their guard.
The tattoo pattern didn't make complete sense, but at least they had something to go on with. She picked up the phone and dialed Vikram's number
"Hey!"
His groggy voice reminded her that it was one a.m. in the night. Shucks. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot it was so late. You go off to sleep, please." This could have been discussed a few hours later, Esha thought as she virtually smacked her head.
"You have woken me up, so now you have to pay a fine," he drawled.
"Fine? What kind of a fine?"
"Em... let me think... what about phone sex?"
"Really?" She could picture him smiling, and she too relaxed back on the bed.
"Yeah..."
"I have no idea about phone sex."
"Hmm... let me train you."
"Okay."
"You can tell me about what you are wearing... suggestively... in a seductive tone, of course."
"Okay. But what if I'm not wearing anything?"
He groaned and she grinned.
"And I've just had a bath," she continued, "...the water droplets are slowly running down my..." She stopped in a dramatic pause.
"Ah, why did you stop, woman? I was getting there."
Esha found herself aroused at the mere thought. "Come home tomorrow. We'll shower together," she croaked.
He went silent and she bit her lip. The sexual tension between them changed to profound sorrow.
"Vikram?"
"Yeah..." he answered after a couple of seconds.
"Time is the only healer."
"Yeah, right."
"Sleep well."
Murmuring incoherently, he disconnected the call.
Esha didn't tell him about what she had found—her findings could wait for a few more hours.
* * * *
November 2nd
Seths’ Residence, Mumbai
2nd November, 8:30 AM
The pattern matched with the one on daija’s shoulder! It was unbelievable.
Vikram couldn’t digest the news. Esha must have been mistaken. Daija had been living with them for the past eight years. She adored Vandana and Aaryan. She received a handsome salary and had no liability. How could she be involved in such a heinous plot? Esha was plain mistaken.
The object of his thought was pinning a note on the pin-board in Vikram’s den at home when he entered the room.
Vikram had shifted his office upstairs. It was his idea. There was no safer a place than his house and he wanted her to stay out of harm’s way as far as possible. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight till this mess was over. Deciding to spearhead the investigations himself, he had cleared his calendar as much as possible. He regretted not having done this before—maybe then Nikhil would have been alive.
Damn! Damn! Damn! This was one war he had to win. He had to avenge Nikhil's death.
“Hey!” he called out when Esha remained absorbed in her notes.
“Hey.” She waved a hand without turning. “I can’t tell you how intriguing all this is. I feel as if I know the answers to all the questions but they are eluding me like butterflies—so near yet so out of reach.”
“This is the first time you have spoken so many words together without scowling.”
“What?” she turned towards him and scowled.
He smiled. It was comforting to have her no nonsense presence by his side. Maybe he’d ask her to move in with him. He wasn’t sure if she’d agree, but he knew he was going to try. But before he could broach the subject, Kishore dada ushered Uday in.
The grim lines on Uday’s face told him that the loss had affected him too. Uday was one of Nikhil’s best friends.
Uday updated them on the investigations. The Delhi shooting trail had gone cold and nothing could be traced beyond what the young girl, Debbie’s friend, had told them. The only thing that she would tell them was that he always wore a red and white cotton stole around his neck, which was fairly common in India.
After the shooting in which Esha was hurt, his sleuths had been combing the underworld gun parts dealers and Uday had had a meeting with one of the informants last night.
“A man had purchased a few parts from one of the arms dealers but again he had kept his face partially hidden with the muffler which, on that day, was black and white checks. We have the approximate height and build of the man. He is fair, between forty to fifty years of age, maybe more. Speaks with a rough pahari accent, like the people from the hills.”
Uday opened another file. “Based on that, we have zeroed in on seven people who have been expelled from the army in the past ten-fifteen years because of various reasons. There are two who have taken premature retirement using flimsy excuses. According to the army records, one thing common between them is that they all were expert marksmen.”
Placing the files on the table, Uday studied the crime board Esha had created. “I see you have already done the homework. If we assume that the culprits behind Vikram’s kidnapping twenty odd years back and the attacks now are the same, then the tattoo pattern is a vital link. The connection needs to be established with the nanny and the man with the stole, both from the northern region,” he said after a while.
“If the incidents are connected, then the motive goes back more than twenty years. We’ll have to see who all can have an enmity with Vikram’s parents,” Esha said.
Vikram chuckled, shaking his head. “I think you are mistaken about daija’s tattoo. The ceiling lights are not good at the stables. And you have seen only part of the pattern.”
Esha pursed her lips and chose to remain silent.
“Meanwhile we have received the report on the tattoo design,” Uday continued pulling their attention on the last of his reports. “It represents the ‘MahaKaali Yantra’ and it stands for seeking blessing from Goddess Kaali for conquering one’s enemies. According to most sources, it represents a positive blessing to shield one from the negativity in life, but you never know what a convoluted mind may think.”
“And what if the incidents are not connected?” Vikram asked.
“Then we have only one track to follow, the army men and a stole loving person. Still, the nanny’s connection cannot be ignored until we have a harmless explanation,” Uday said. “A background check would have been done by Jindal’s security team when she was hired, but my team is now on her too.”
“Let’s look at the men for now.” Vikram didn’t want to discuss anything related to di’s family. What if nothing came out? The relationship would get tainted if there was an innocent enough reason for the damned tattoo. But what if something was really amiss? He shook his head. He’d assess the situation with a calm frame of mind before taking a decision.
“Out of the seven, I’m leaning towards these four.” Uday selected four files and pushed them forward on the table. “They are all single, have no roots, and have not stayed at one place for long. Though none of the profiles mention a tattoo on their body. Out of the rest, the fifth one was in Rohtak jail at the time of the shooting in Delhi. The sixth one is lame, lost one leg recently in an accident. And the last one is working in an ashram down south and hasn’t stepped out of the premises since he had been expelled from the army. You should look at all of them and see if it jogs your memory.”
Vikram picked up the firs
t file, while Esha took the second one.
The image of a man stared at Vikram as he turned the cover of the file. The man looked pathetically lean, incapable of wielding a walking stick leave alone a sniper rifle.
“I’ll take your leave,” Uday said. “I’ll come again in the evening and debrief you on the day’s progress. Meanwhile Vikram, have your mother take a look at the files too. Esha is right, it could be some old enmity. Shall I put a trail on the nanny?” Uday asked at the door.
“No!” Vikram said then looked at Esha. “No one speaks about this to anyone. This remains between the three of us till I say otherwise. We are still not sure if the pattern is the same.”
Uday nodded and left.
Esha didn’t even glance up from the file she was reading, though he could see a pulse ticking on her jaw.
Vikram slapped the file in his hand close and added it to the stack on the table. “Leave the files in the safe when you are done, I’ll look at them tonight,” he said and left the room.
* * * *
Seths' Residence, Mumbai
2nd November, 10:30 PM
It had been more than 24 hours since she had found about the pattern, but still didn't get the go-ahead from Vikram to pursue the tattoo lead. Esha fumed and fretted to act on it, but he refused to break his silence over the issue. She wanted a trail put on the old woman. She had discussed this with Uday and he had sent her the bank statements, phone call logs and other reports, but none of it raised a red alert anywhere.
The financial statements didn't tell her anything. There was nothing beyond the regular salary and routine withdrawals. She had looked everywhere. Uday had done a meticulous job in furnishing the evidence. She picked up the phone call log again and stared at the time pattern. Rubbing her eyes she stared at the tiny figures. It was a tedious, time-consuming, and headache-inducing job. The numbers swam in front of her eyes. She looked at the clock. It was eleven p.m. She needed to get some sleep. As she prepared for bed, the idea struck her as lightning thunders in the darkest of the skies.
The threat was to Vikram, so why was she sitting closeted in the room? Did she really need his permission? She could always go and do her own sleuthing. She had the security information on Jindal's penthouse. Moreover, the couple of rooms allocated to daija were on a separate floor and had a separate entrance.
T'was time to do something to bring them a step closer to some concrete evidence.
* * * *
November 3rd
Jindal Residence, Versova Mumbai
3rd November, 1:25am
The door clicked open with minimum noise. Familiar with the layout of the staff apartments on the top floor, Esha stood leaning against the door for any sound that might indicate that someone was awake. After five minutes of waiting, she clicked on the camera jammer and entered the two-room dwelling of the nanny.
The night bulb threw a pale blue light on the interiors of the living room, which was stark and minimalistic with a small marble temple in one corner. Her heart hammered in her rib cage as she noticed the black twelve inch Goddess Kaali idol placed on the pedestal inside the white carved structure.
Keeping her emotions in check, she moved towards the bedroom. Lying on her side, the old woman was sound asleep. Esha pulled on the mask over her face, took out the chloroform drenched handkerchief and put it over the woman's nose.
After waiting for five-seconds, she took off the handkerchief and un-fastened the old woman's blouse.
* * * *
Outhouse, Seths' Residence, Mumbai
3rd November, 3:45am
Esha froze as she entered her room after exhilarating few hours. Vikram sat in the easy chair looking at her like a king cobra.
"Hey," she said taking off the latex gloves.
He didn't say anything.
"Aren't you going to ask where I have been?" She took off her black leather jacket.
"Why?" he whispered.
"You'll be amazed at what I found."
"Why shouldn't I wring your neck instead?" he snapped.
"Look, I can't just sit and twiddle my toes waiting for something to happen. I took all the precautions. I had a backup. Uday knew about my trip and his team had been sitting in the van outside monitoring me." She tapped on the buckle on her belt that had the camera.
"Do you have any idea how many seconds it takes to snuff out a life? Two bloody seconds!" He stood up so suddenly that she stepped back. "And your shoulder hasn't even healed properly."
"There was no risk." Esha had never seen him so angry. His hands fisted by his sides and his nostrils flared.
"Do you even realize what I went through the moment I came to know you were not here?"
Understanding his anger but unable to face him, she turned towards the tiny fridge. "I had informed Jay too. Didn't he tell you?" Unable to face his accusing gaze, she took out a bottle of water and drank straight from it. He wasn't supposed to know about her excursion. "How come you are here at such an ungodly hour?"
He didn't say anything and only glared at her.
"I'd like to sleep."
He continued to stare at her for a few more seconds then left the apartment. She was glad to have escaped his wrath, but disappointed that they had parted on a sour note. She wanted to pick his brain on the information she had unearthed. They were so close. Just a few more links to verify and they could nab the killer. She sighed.
Now that the adrenaline was receding, the risk she had taken made her tremble. Hormones were difficult to fathom. She realized that she wanted a warm reassuring hug from him too.
* * * *
Suburbs, Mumbai
3rd November, 5:30 AM
Usually, he played the various surveillance tapes in fast forward while eating his breakfast after the night shift. But today his meal lay forgotten on the floor of the basement room. Ripples of fear tied his stomach in knots when he saw a blip on one of the camera feeds off the staff area at Jindal's residence. The tape had gone blank for almost twenty minutes, as if someone had jammed the camera. Or maybe the electricity backup went off too, but that had never happened at Jindal's in the past seven years. He checked the feed of the entrance lobby and lift area, same problem. Maybe there was a technical glitch.
He quickly checked the other feeds from the main house. His worst fears were confirmed. There was no problem in them.
What had happened? Why had the cameras only at the entrance and in her rooms malfunctioned? Because someone wanted to hide their identity. For what? To search her rooms. Why her? She had never been part of anything, except passing on the money to him, that too not directly.
He picked up the phone and dialed the number—a first when he was calling without the customary missed call. The next moment he disconnected. What if the calls were being monitored?
Where had he gone wrong?
At first, he had planned to rear him like his own child. When that failed and he didn't have another option, he had thought of a clean, painless death. For he, Seth Jr., wasn't to be blamed for being born. The punishment was for the parents. But as time passed, all his plans had crumbled like fragile sand castles. Where had he gone wrong? The answer lay with his Goddess. He stood up and began the preparation for the pooja.
He sat performing the rituals, asking Maa the reason behind so many failures. After an hour of frenzied chanting, he finally had his answer.
Kaali maa wished for supreme sacrifice. She was demanding bali. She wanted the ultimate homage—the blood aahuti—his or his enemy's. If he succeeded, it was Her will, or he'd sacrifice himself.
He picked up the newspaper that carried the news of the weekend party at the Seths' farmhouse at Alibaug.
'The new arm candy of the Seth scion.'
The headline screamed, with a photo of Vikramaditya Jr. and his PA, his bodyguard, he corrected his observation.
The photographer had managed to capture a rare emotion on Seth's face. The way both of them stood looking at each other, there seemed much more be
tween them than just an employee-employer relationship. The thought brought on a wave of disgust. Women were the same everywhere. Spreading their legs, salivating because of a few notes thrown their way. It was time to each them a lesson. Again.
An idea began taking shape in his mind. Slowly, Maa showed him another path to his revenge.
* * * *
Seths' Residence, Mumbai
3rd November, 8:00 AM
Esha pinned the scanned copy of the group photograph she had found locked away in the nanny's room and the pattern of the tattoo that she had clicked. Although she had taken the photos in dim light, the results were good. Now there was no doubt that old daija was involved. The tattoo on her shoulder matched the one etched on Vikram's arm. The photograph in her safe was of her younger days. She and a boy in his early teens stood flanking a girl elder to both of them.
"What do you think?" she asked the moment Uday entered the room. "I think I have a name. The picture of the boy seems to match with one of your men in the files." She picked up the file and handed it to him. "Shivam Negi."
Uday didn't pay attention to the file and smiled. "I have one more link. The same profile matches with one of the night shift guards assigned to Jindal's office security. Since he was a part timer, he had escaped our scrutiny earlier." He pinned another blown up recent photograph of both, Negi and the nanny. "Maybe Jindal is funding him or..." He left the sentence incomplete.
They both knew, if Vandana was involved, Vikram would be devastated.
"Great, so that means he is our man and these two might be related. So who is the other girl with them? She is older than them." Her hands on her waist, Esha studied the photographs.