The Miss India Murders

by Gauri Sinh

‘So most elementarily, it comes down to motive,’ Parvati’s half-smiled, but the attempt at humour did little to lighten to mood. We were too worn out.

  ‘You said circumstance’. I spoke up. ‘You and two-three girls were not in formation because of circumstance—what does that mean?’

  Parvati’s eyes held mine. ‘Smriti and Vanessa wanted to go pee,’ she said. ‘They went to the restroom during the blackout.’

  I could not believe my ears. We had been warned not to shift position during the thirty second blackout, because the television cameras would record all. Dark moving shapes are visible in a blackout and a camera’s recording can show these up clearer than if one was seated, watching from a live audience.

  But today, four days to D-Day, rehearsals had been gruelling, some of us had not even managed a bathroom break, forget snack break, so intent were we on getting everything perfect. No wonder it had come to this—a sneaky exit in blackout time, the urge uncontrollable, even at the risk of igniting Avi’s thunderous temper if found out.

  ‘When you gotta go, you gotta go,’ Parvati said, a trifle ruefully, the laugh lines round her mouth deepening despite the present morbidity. ‘They ran back as soon as they could, but couldn’t reach their places in time. So we all shifted, both lines on either side, to compensate, right up to where Samantha and I were standing on the other side.’

  I was close to speechless. What does one say when something so silly, yet so absolutely unimaginable occurs?

  ‘Myra, Helen opposite her, then Nuzhat behind Helen on Myra’s side, and Anuradha behind Nuzhat—they all seemed to be in their correct place,’ I mused, concentrating very hard now. ‘All of them were at the very front of ramp clearly visible as I walked up the stairs to the ramp.’

  ‘Yes.’ Parvati’s tone was patient. ‘The formation changed only upto Samantha, opposite to Anuradha, just behind her. The entire block basically moved two girls down, one place on each side actually, to accommodate Smriti and Vanessa’s frantic presence at base of ramp, returning from their restroom break. They were unable to reach beyond that point before the blackout ended.’

  ‘So that means a number of girls were in incorrect positions, not just two or three,’ I said worriedly. ‘I could only see upto Nisha and Pia when the spot came on, not behind them, didn’t realize immediately that so much had changed …’

  ‘It’ll be easier if we drew this out.’ I told Parvati.

  Parvati showed me a page of her diary. Already drawn out, meticulous and neat—each girl’s position at the time Lajjo walked her final walk.

  I scrutinized the drawing, unsurprised at Parvati’s efficiency and accuracy of line placement. I was beginning to catch on to just how particular she could be.

  ‘Sanjna,’ I said. ‘She doesn’t appear to be standing where she was supposed to, especially if everyone only moved two girls below. One girl below, actually, because each was on the opposite side of ramp … wasn’t she after you in the original formation? You were to be at midpoint or just after as the original formation, in this, you’re almost five girls down, counting both sides.’

  ‘We’ll need to note down every girl’s position on this map, and mark out the ones we aren’t sure of.’ Parvati nodded. ‘Sanjna was after me in formation. But on the rehearsal day, she stood before me. When I came back to ramp, she was already in position, in fact.’

  ‘When you came back to ramp?’ But we were all to hold position during the blackout. Are you saying, that you too were on a restroom break at this time?’ I was incredulous, my nerves fraught by the rate of on-going revelations. ‘And you actually managed to get back to position despite that?’

  ‘I am saying that I wasn’t on ramp. I did manage to reach close to my position just before the lights came on,’ Parvati said softly. ‘But I wasn’t on a restroom break. I was stiff, needed just a second to stretch.’

  I met her eyes, unshadowed and guileless. No matter what she said or how innocent she looked saying it, things just didn’t add up. We had been rehearsing the same sequence for ages. Today had been a long day and maybe restroom breaks were justified. But breaks to stretch out stiff limbs? How was this the one rehearsal when so many of Avi’s instructions were ignored?

  I wanted to trust her, this cool, tall girl who seemed to know so much and was so self-assured in all she did. But so much about her was unexplained. Her intentions seemed genuine, as did her will to try and get to the bottom of this awfulness we found ourselves in. But I had questions and it looked as if I would need more time to get answers for them from her.

  ‘Parvati, you are an enigma, perhaps as much as this mysterious darkness we find ourselves embroiled in,’ I thought, watching her as she scribbled on in her diary. ‘But I won’t settle, Ms Samant. I will find out about you, even if there’s stuff you don’t want to reveal for the moment.’

  Parvati could keep her secrets. I had an ace up my sleeve and I believed it was time I used it. This was the ‘second thing’ that I had mentioned earlier, the one I had to get to. Not an ‘it’ actually. More like a ‘him’.

  5

  Akruti

  ‘Shall we continue?’ Parvati moved her pen briskly down her drawing, impatient at my sudden silence. ‘Inayat, Mayuri, Aishwarya, Roxanne—they had all moved one girl up, but hadn’t left the stage.’

  ‘I see,’ I said. ‘The only person who had moved two girls up, and four-five girls up if you count both sides of ramp, would be you, Parvati.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true,’ Parvati said. ‘Not that it means much. Had I stayed in formation, I would’ve been almost at midpoint.’

  ‘The point Lajjo stumbled at, or close to it,’ I pointed out. ‘I saw her.’

  ‘Did you?’ Parvati’s eyes narrowed as she looked at me, gaze alert, inquiring. ‘We were all turned slightly outwards, facing the audience, even if the formation was skewed. And Lajjo was in spot, all else dark or just about. You actually were in a fortuitous position, Akruti, right at the very top of ramp, facing us. Because you could see everything—almost like a camera. It is fantastic, how observant you are!’

  ‘Yes, maybe,’ I said, suddenly bone-weary. ‘But somehow, nothing unusual comes to mind, other than your change in position. I’ve been trying to go over what I saw till I turned to face the audience, but I cannot recall anything amiss. Just Lajjo’s stumble mid-ramp or so. Then the fact that she started walking before Avi’s cue.’

  ‘She did?’ Parvati looked incredulous. ‘Why?’ Watching her amazement it occurred to me that there was actually no way Lajjo would have walked in defiance of Avi. Though I had mentioned to Addl.CP Mhatre that it might’ve been ego on Lajjo’s part, it was just not possible, I now realised. She had clearly not been herself. But why? Or rather—how?

  ‘She was stabbed before she walked the entire ramp,’ Parvati answered her own question with sudden conviction, reiterating her earlier surmise to me. ‘She was already losing blood, though it was camouflaged by her red gown. It is possible no one on ramp put the blade in …’

  ‘It is,’ I agreed, watching her carefully, thinking … ‘Or they did when they left during blackout. But, Parvati—why did Lajjo not call or cry out when stabbed? And how could she continue to walk the entire length of the ramp if she was stabbed before? Even if she was dazed from the stabbing and that’s what messed up the timing of her walk. We need to think that through. Regardless, from what you say, two girls left the stage, which never happened before in rehearsal blackout. And, Parvati? You did too.’

  ‘Yes,’ Parvati’s face was impassive as she continued her reconstruction of the events. ‘Pia, Nisha, Tania, Tara Vandana—all of them were at the very back, shifted to accommodate Vanessa and Smriti coming in. The girl who stayed put almost at base stage right at the back of ramp was Nina—she retained her position all through, even when the girls returned. I don’t think anyone else moved off stage apart from the three of us, though positions shifted for many. We should double-check that, though.’

  ‘I don’t kn
ow how I didn’t see so much movement,’ I said, a trifle bitterly. ‘I was facing stage in the blackout. But I was thinking only of myself, concentrating on my pose. I was picturing the audience watching my back. I was showing it off, all my attention was on me …’

  ‘Understandable,’ said Parvati almost gently. ‘You weren’t to know. But now, you must try and recall, use all your powers of retention.’

  I nodded. ‘There is also the camera,’ I added. ‘The one at head ramp. Even if the girls want to hide their movements for some reason, it would show who held position and who didn’t.’

  ‘Maybe we should get our hands on that recording first,’ Parvati said. ‘We’d be faster at arriving at our suspects.’

  ‘It’s already with the police,’ I said. ‘I saw them going with the camera to the room where the Addl.CP is, earlier. Why would they let us see it at all?’

  ‘Why, indeed,’ said Parvati grimly. ‘It’s evidence now. But they might be willing to make their own jobs easier. We could save them the effort of piecing together who was standing where and trying to figure out diagrams and drawings on cue sheets. We could be in the room while they watch it, helping them. It’s worth a try, don’t you think?’

  Parvati was already zipping up her diary in her bag, her brisk efficiency in sharp contrast to our wan mood. I followed her wordlessly back to the room where the Addl.CP was grilling the contestants. It was already almost 9 p.m. Nearing dinner, but who was hungry, really?

  Parvati knocked on the door of the mini conference room. She stepped in boldly. I followed.

  Addl.CP Mhatre looked up, he had just finished with one of the girls and was in discussion with his team before summoning the next.

  ‘We’d like to help you when you watch the recording of the rehearsal,’ Parvati said, wasting no words. ‘We would be able to tell you who exactly was where, especially if people had moved around.’

  There was silence in the room. The Addl.CP looked at us for a long while. He seemed to make up his mind.

  ‘We’ve already watched it,’ he said curtly. ‘But it would save time if you told us who was where as the camera runs. We’ll play it again. Take a seat.’

  I couldn’t believe how easy that had been. I was expecting a cool rejection, followed by a speedy dismissal from the room. But here we were, seated with the Addl.CP and team, about to watch a live grab of our finale gown sequence rehearsal … and Lajjo’s final moments. I suddenly felt a bit nauseous. We hadn’t eaten much and to go through watching Lajjo collapse all over again might not be such a great idea after all.

  ‘Not a time to be squeamish,’ Parvati’s sharp words in my ear gave me a jolt. ‘If we have to get to the bottom of this, we need to watch this without nerves.’

  Her words provided the much needed succour, enough for me to regain composure.

  ‘I’m ready,’ I whispered back. The recording began. I watched myself go up the ramp from the front, pose, as Lajjo, feisty and still in her element retreated to base ramp as I took her place. The music roared to a crescendo, then faded. Lights out, spot cut, as per Avi’s cue. The thirty-second blackout came on. The camera stayed focused, every shape visible, half-lit in the dark haze, but distinct. As we watched, two shapes nearer the top of the ramp, their placement closer to the camera, detached themselves from the formation and silently moved towards the back entrance.

  ‘Smriti and Vanessa,’ Parvati turned to the Addl.CP, even as another shape, standing closer to mid-ramp, followed the previous two off the ramp.

  ‘And that would be me,’ Parvati added, her voice absolutely steadfast. The Addl.CP made no comment, the recording was still running. The camera, positioned dead-centre, head ramp, could capture the first few girls right on top of ramp, perhaps to mid-point. The ones behind, even though visible, were indistinct in the haze.

  The tape continued, we saw the silent shuffling as the girls who had left took different places and Parvati rejoined the formation, but in a different place. The sequence began once again. We saw Lajjo walk, pre-empting the music, still in darkness, a trifle unsteady. We watched the stage lights come on, to Avi’s cue. Lajjo in spot, already too far ahead of the music, catwalking to join me. Watching it as observer, her slow sashay seemed laborious to me. She must already have been losing blood, and none of us knew … I watched myself make the turn to face the audience, feeling quite ill now, in anticipation of what would follow. The Addl.CP stopped the recording at this point.

  ‘The rest is not relevant.’ he said. We understood he was sparing us having to relive those moments again. And we knew there was nothing more that happened then, Lajjo had already been stabbed earlier, bleeding as she walked. Watching the recording had convinced us of this.

  ‘We will try to zoom in on the formation in the recording step by step to see if the girls at the back also moved or left the stage.’ The Addl.CP said. ‘We might need you to identify the contestants then as well. For now, we will be concentrating on these three names. Let’s start with you, Ms Samant. Why did you leave the rehearsal? Ms Rai—you are not needed now.’

  I got up though I dearly would’ve loved to stay and hear the reason Parvati gave the Addl.CP for leaving the stage. She had told me she wanted to stretch her legs. Would she tell him the same thing? And, more importantly—was it the truth?

  It was 10 p.m. now and I was absolutely spent. There was nothing more to be done. I decided not to wait for Parvati to finish with the Addl.CP. My legs wouldn’t hold me up any longer and I shuffled tiredly to my room. Tomorrow will bring renewal, I thought. How wrong I was.

  Three days to the finale ...

  6

  Akruti

  ‘Do we have to go without stockings?’ Roxanne, my roommate was asking, as I opened my eyes to sunshine streaming in through the window the next morning. It was a glorious sunny day, perfect, the kind you always dream about. Especially the kind you dream about when it’s the day of the swimsuit round of the Miss India pageant.

  For a moment I didn’t remember all that had happened the night before. For a moment, drugged by sleep and sunlight, I was almost happy. Then realization hit. I checked the time—9 a.m. I had clean forgotten to set the alarm, in my weariness and anguish of the night before. I must have tumbled into bed and fallen asleep immediately in exhaustion. I hadn’t even checked to see if Roxanne had come in before me or not, after being questioned by the Addl.CP.

  Roxanne smiled mischievously. She had told me she was a Mumbai girl, lively and loud on occasion. Parsi undoubtedly, I could tell. Today, she was fully dressed, her six inch heels showing off those enviably smooth legs, polished to sheen with creams and concoctions. In the mirror behind her, I sleepily attempted to decipher the reflected names of each of her potions on the dressing table: Shea Butter, Cocoa, Honey-Mist, Vanilla-Bean … Coconut Oil.

  ‘Ms Rai,’ Roxanne continued, almost malicious. ‘Planning to skip the swimwear round, are we? Have you already been promised the crown this year?’

  I liked Roxanne, but I also knew this side to her, to-the-point unforgiving, brutal. ‘You could’ve woken me,’ I said tartly, swinging my legs off the bed, scampering to change. The contest started in half an hour, I still had to run down for hair and make-up.

  ‘And spoil everyone else’s chances at the possibility of you giving us a walkover?’ Roxanne retorted. ‘We already have the decks stacked against us this year, with the magnificent Ms Rai as competitor. Why wake you?’

  I threw her a mock-grimace, but I knew she had, in fact, woken me by her earlier query. She may have woken me late, but her intentions were still helpful. ‘Carry your stockings,’ I answered the question that had woken me up. ‘You never know, you might be allowed to wear them if they’re sheer.’

  Hurriedly, I threw on a dress and raced to the green room downstairs near the pool area. This was where hair and make-up were being done for the swimsuit round. There was quite a crowd already inside, the humming of blow dryers and the general chatter of girls—the usual, familiar backdrop
. Listening to the buzz, you could almost forget that the day before we had all been through a traumatic event. It was back to business, even though the main topic of conversation was yesterday’s rehearsal.

  My eyes sought the hair dresser, there was barely any time. To my relief, a wail of despair made me realize that she had found me first.

  ‘Aa-ku!’ Doreen Saldana shrieked in mock horror as she made her way towards me. ‘How late you’ve come!’

  ‘I know, I know,’ I said, giving her a quick air kiss before settling myself into the chair in front of her. ‘I overslept.’

  ‘It’s this terrible time,’ Doreen clucked her tongue in sympathy as she deftly started loping my locks into a low bun. Then in a mock low voice: ‘I hear everyone’s a suspect …’

  I glanced at her in the mirror. Doreen was as loose-tongued as she was talented, we all knew that. She loved to gossip, but somehow things people told her never stayed secrets for long. And yet, she was the one who knew the industry’s deepest mysteries. She was the one in whom everybody confided, rested their hearts darkest longings and desires. Doreen had that comfortable air that most of us crave in a confidante—simultaneously maternal and take-charge. Despite countless indiscretions, there was something about her that begged confidences.

  ‘I guess,’ I told her. ‘The police are working on it.’

  ‘They must be,’ Doreen whispered sepulchral, though there was no need for it. ‘Poor, lovely Lajjo. They must catch the culprit, Aku. Before the finale, before it becomes a huge scandal!’

  I met Doreen’s eyes in the mirror. I didn’t reveal that I felt there was an unconventional methodology at play here—to let us all roam free today, going about our business, despite us all being suspects. But it was an unnatural situation as well.

  Also, if I were to use the plainest logic as I had seen Parvati apply quite often, then even as suspects there was no place better than the hotel to confine us to. As young, single girls, one among us about to be chosen to represent our country, we were strictly chaperoned at present. Outside contact was all but forbidden, except on Sundays. Even phone calls were monitored, remember this was still a time before the easy accessibility that cell phones allowed. Maybe the Addl.CP had a reason for letting us all behave as if life could go on as usual. In this environment, he could control the proceedings.