The Miss India Murders

by Gauri Sinh

  I heard him out in silence. Once more, I believed Avi had said something of grave importance. Something that tied in to what we had learned earlier, when Parvati had quizzed the Addl.CP about a substance in Lajjo’s system and he had mentioned that she was under terrific stress.

  And here, once again, I couldn’t agree more with Avi. Because the Lajjo I had known too was as cool as a cucumber. She wouldn’t let anything ruffle her. Why, even when I had advanced from the front of stage in that final rehearsal, and Avi had announced for her to back off, she had done her part gracefully. Like a serene Madonna, no matter the rush of emotions churning within. So why were the police hellbent on calling her ‘nervous’?

  ‘Avi, I am with you on this one,’ I told him, my voice grim. ‘Lajjo just wasn’t a skittish, nervy type. It is near-impossible she would be taking medication for a condition that she didn’t have. So why do you think the police are insisting she was?’

  ‘The Addl.CP said his team had asked two people connected to her and they both confirmed it,’ Avi said. ‘One was a doctor type, apparently.’

  ‘Really?’ I asked, still sceptical. ‘Which doctor? Her private doc, or the hotel one?’

  ‘I didn’t ask the Addl.CP so much,’ Avi said. ‘I only know this bothered me.’

  ‘It bothers me too,’ I told him. ‘It just doesn’t sound like Lajjo …’

  I rang off, deeply troubled. So much had disturbed Avi, and he was acutely intuitive as a person. I often fed off this hyper-perceptive energy unconsciously, as people close to each other tend to do. In the past, it had only helped me. Today too, I saw no reason to doubt his sixth sense, and every reason to add my own misgivings to his. Lajjo’s murder investigation had serious flaws. But how to help right them?

  I dialled Jehaan, taking advantage of the fact that Roxanne hadn’t returned from dinner yet.

  ‘Aku,’ Jehaan’s voice sounded tight. He always sounded so around this time of the evening, it was approaching deadline for the next day’s edition and he was heading the sports section after all. When it was like this, we were in perfect sync. We always spoke rapidly, and to-the-point, curtailing unnecessary dialogue so he could get back to work.

  I filled him in on the day, as fast as I could manage. I stressed on sighting the mysterious stranger again, near the elevator, but being unable to get close enough to take a better look.. Then I told him about how I found the diary in another compartment of my bag, not the one I had put it in.

  ‘You didn’t leave your bag for a second?’ Jehaan asked me.

  ‘Not that I can recall,’ I said. ‘I had it with me when we met the Addl.CP, then …’

  But Jehaan was called away abruptly and apologizing, he hung up. He had already wished me luck for the finale, in case we didn’t get to speak.

  I tried to clear my head of everything that had transpired, and settled in to go to bed. Much as I wanted justice for all those so terribly and prematurely put to death, there was a contest I needed to ace, my raison d’etre for being here in the first place. And I wouldn’t be able to do it without looking and feeling my best. So, a good night’s sleep was essential. Everything else must wait, I decided.

  The finale …

  23

  Akruti

  ‘Are you going to sleep all morning?’ a cheery voice said, in my ear, even as the curtain was pulled back, drowning me in soft, summery sunshine.

  ‘It’s D-Day!’ Roxanne loomed over my sleepy face, brushing her hair vigorously. It appeared golden in the sun’s rays, forming a halo round her face, she looked surreally angelic in that light. I smiled at her, trying to hold the moment before all the rest came tumbling into consciousness.

  ‘What time is it?’ I mumbled, looking over at my watch on the table.

  ‘Time for you to get up and join me for breakfast!’ Roxanne said. ‘You didn’t have any dinner last night, remember?’

  ‘Yes, okay,’ I acquiesced, giving in to Roxanne’s well-meaning mothering. My stomach was growling anyway.

  ‘We have the morning absolutely free!’ Roxanne continued. ‘By that of course it means that we can spend it being nervous and fidgety. So, let’s at least have a nice breakfast. We’re having it all together, downstairs!’

  ‘Really?’ I said my mind suddenly alert. No time like the now to ask everyone about Laddo once again! Maybe we’d be lucky?

  We got ready and went down to the sunny, airy room we’d been assigned to eat in. It was, of course, separate from the other guests’ areas.

  Most of the girls were already present, sitting around a long table and chatting as they helped themselves to healthy food in miniscule portions. There was a charged atmosphere, at once electric and skittish—nervous energy before a big performance, now made raw by circumstance.

  ‘Mood of the moment …?’ Parvati said in my ear as she passed me to seat herself next to her roommate Tania.

  I didn’t reply. What was there to say?

  ‘So what do you think, girls? Will this contest go smoothly?’ Samantha asked, addressing nobody in particular. Her voice had been so loud though that conversation stopped and everyone tuned in.

  ‘Why won’t it?’ Nina called out from the end of the table.

  ‘Must I spell it out?’ Samantha turned to her, slightly red in the face, her tone harsh, each syllable made more pronounced by anxiety.

  ‘We’ve had a murder at every event for the past three nights,’ Anuradha, Samantha’s confidante, took up where she’d left off. ‘Tonight is the biggest of them all. Do the math.’

  There was a silence at Anuradha’s vehement outburst. No doubt what she just voiced had been playing on all our minds, but to have it said openly like that was still a shock to the system.

  ‘The police have a suspect. Tara’s been taken in, remember?’ Nina countered Anuradha gamely. ‘Why should we panic now?’

  ‘Come off it, Nina. Do you really believe Tara is a killer? That she murdered Lajjo or Doreen or Nuzhat?’ Sanjna, the youngest among us had spoken up suddenly.

  ‘Whether or not she believes it, the police do,’ Tania rushed to Nina’s defence. ‘And they’re the ones investigating this.’

  ‘So, we’re all happy about their verdict, is that it? Aishwarya, normally ultra-reserved, spoke up quietly. ‘Do you honestly believe there is no danger now?’

  There was silence at this, an uncomfortable silence, before Vandana spoke up, her face fearful. She had discovered Nuzhat with her head bashed in, along with Vanessa, and hadn’t been quite herself post that. Unlike Vanessa, Parvati, Tania or I, who had undergone similar jolts, but had rallied—she couldn’t absorb the intense shock.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she addressed Aishwarya, but the question was open to all.

  ‘Vandana, let it be,’ Vanessa said gently, because no one else would answer.

  ‘Well, we know Tara couldn’t really have killed Lajjo, don’t we?’ Pia spoke up hesitantly. ‘So even if Tara did do something to Nuzhat without meaning to—she couldn’t have stabbed Lajjo. We were all on ramp, she didn’t do it. She was too far from her, right in the middle of ramp almost.’

  ‘I know we shifted formation on ramp when we went to the restroom, and we’ve never discussed it among ourselves,’ Smriti spoke up suddenly. ‘But I want to tell you all, there hasn’t been a time since that night that I’ve not gone over it in my mind, wondering if Nessie and I, we somehow helped Lajjo’s killer … I’m so so sorry, girls …’

  Tears glistened in Smriti’s eyes, even as large-hearted Nisha rushed to comfort her.

  ‘We couldn’t help it,’ Vanessa added. ‘We really needed to use the restroom, we had no choice. It had been such a long day.’

  ‘I don’t see how you could have helped anyone stab Lajjo,’ Nisha spoke plainly, one arm around Smriti. ‘It’s not like you took the knife and stabbed her.’

  Collective cries at this vivid word picture that Nisha conjured up, and voices grew loud in protest.

  ‘Stop it, Nisha,’ Roxanne said sever
ely, in her forthright manner. ‘You don’t have to go all graphic. Lajjo was one of us, remember?’

  ‘I think Smriti means she feels she and Nessie helped the murderer unintentionally,’ Inayat spoke up, her eyes troubled. ‘Y’know there was a contestant among us, Doreen said …’

  ‘Why do have to bring up Doreen now?’ Myra wailed. ‘Why are you all being so morbid? This is our last meal as equals. This evening someone will be crowned Miss India 1995, and we will no longer be like this. So why are we wasting this time scaring each other?’

  ‘No one is scaring anyone, Myra,’ Helen spoke up, her voice cultured and gentle. ‘We are simply discussing something important, maybe what we ought to have discussed sometime ago—because it involves us all … especially as this is the finale night.’

  ‘It might even help us somehow, now that we’re finally talking about it,’ Aishwarya said slowly. ‘And no one is blaming you or Nessie, Smriti. You could not have known, could you …’

  As the discussion intensified, Parvati met my eyes. Both of us were saying nothing. We wanted to see where it would lead, this unexpected parry, just a few hours to the big night. It was true, this was the first time post all that had happened that we were voicing openly what each of us felt.

  The mood was nervous, speculative, but also suddenly, one of kinship. We were, all, after all, despite being competitors, in this together.

  ‘If it wasn’t Tara,’ Pia said suddenly. ‘Whose gown do you think could’ve concealed the knife that killed Lajjo? Remember, we all saw it later—it was long.’

  Her words courted silence once more. We all knew in our hearts that Tara might not have been the one to stab Lajjo. Yet, we all hesitated at actually attempting to fill in the blanks with guesstimates. Maybe we were fearful of what we would actually uncover.

  ‘Not longer than Myra’s face ten days ago when we scared her so!’ Anuradha suddenly spoke up, lightening the accumulated tension in a burst.

  Some of the girls laughed. Not because they were being disrespectful to Lajjo, but because they were relieved by Anuradha’s spontaneously light comment, allowing them to let go all the intensity of that built-up pressure. They didn’t want to dwell on the frightening details of Lajjo’s murder, clearly.

  ‘What happened to Myra?’ Sanjna wanted to know.

  ‘Weren’t you there that day?’ Anuradha queried. ‘We entered Myra’s room as she was having her beauty sleep, all curtains and windows shut! She’s such a scaredy cat, we wanted to play a prank. Samantha had covered her face with Myra’s dupatta, that too. Can you imagine, Samantha leaned close to her ear and said ‘I’m your alter ego’ in a sinister voice! Sleep-dullened Myra, half-awake and sighting a shadow in her own dupatta, wouldn’t stop screaming!’

  As the girls chortled wickedly, I shivered slightly. The vividly described prank resembled my recent nightmare.

  ‘But how did you get Myra’s dupatta?’ Sanjna asked, giggling but puzzled. ‘We always lock our belongings, na?’

  ‘You silly goose,’ Anuradha said. ‘We’ve been in this contest, living in this hotel for so long. Haven’t you figured out by now that our keys work on each other’s drawers? My drawer key fits my roomie’s drawer. So must yours … how could you not know? Obviously, Myra’s roomie, that’s Samantha, got the dupatta out of her drawer using her own key, not Myra’s!’

  Giggling, Samantha added, ‘We used the same technique to lock away part of Nina’s costume in Nisha’s drawer once! And they had connecting doors, Nina-Nisha and Lajjo-Pia, it was such fun we all laughed that day! You should’ve seen Nina’s expression, her costume was an ode to her beloved SRK, and to have lost it, or have Nisha wear it, she couldn’t decide which was worse!’

  ‘Leave my SRK alone,’ Nina’s expression had lost its hilarity, she was dead serious even though the rest were laughing.

  ‘Lajjo would’ve been more sporting,’ Pia chided Nina softly, even as the rest curtailed their mirth.

  Understanding and realization flashed simultaneously in Parvati’s eyes. We realized why Pia was pushing to find Lajjo’s killer at every opportunity today, however subtle. She had been her roomie and had obviously become fond of her.

  More importantly, we realized how easily Parvati’s diary, could’ve been taken. And going by the spate of revelations here … not just her roomie Tania—anyone of us, anyone of our keys … had access to her drawer.

  24

  From the pages of Parvati’s diary

  12 noon

  Taking a breather. Some rather unexpected revelations at our last meal together as competitors and equals. It’s noon now. In the lingering spirit of camaraderie, breakfast managed to stretch late into the morning. Quite an enlightening affair too. Sometimes, it takes just one flash for clarity … and then you can correct your course. One little revelation, that single missing piece—and voila! the entire puzzle is illuminated perfectly.

  It happened to be like that today, when we all sat together, and so much became clearer. So much that we had kept to ourselves. Like Smriti’s searing guilt at changing ramp formation the night Lajjo died. Or Vandana’s anxiety, still haunting her, post discovering Nuzhat’s body. Most importantly—the fact that not one among us truly believes Tara murdered anyone.

  More revelations—as I had suspected, the keys, our drawer keys are all interchangeable. An oversight on the organizers’ or the hotel’s part, but with consequences that could be far-reaching. Who knows how things will turn out?

  I tried once more to ask about Laddo, it was crucial to find this part of the puzzle. But it was also impossible to get the attention of everyone on this without drawing attention to why I wanted to know who she was.

  The ones closest to me—Nina, Tania, Sanjna, Inayat—who heard my query, didn’t bother to answer. The others were still laughing about various pranks. The mood had shifted by then, no one wanted to go back to the darkness. It would be the finale soon enough, and everyone was trying to make sure they were emotionally ready.

  Even if the mood wasn’t buoyant, given all that had happened, there was a sincere attempt to uplift it, ourselves. I wasn’t allowed to play spoilsport. I had to leave it for the time being, however unwillingly.

  1 p.m.

  I know Akruti’s mind is now almost entirely on the contest. There are only a few hours left to the finale. But I still made her sit with me, quietly, in a corner after our long, stretched-out meal, once the others left. We are so close to finding out who ‘Laddo’ is, but time is against us. We must do what we can, try our best despite the odds—how else to function? Pia’s suggestion that we look to the gowns had got me thinking—why not continue along those lines?

  We had actually explored that possibility yesterday, when Akruti and I were together. We had even reasoned as to which gown could be capable of concealing a knife, both of us convinced that its cut would need to be sleek. Before we could start listing the gowns on the girls however, the Addl.CP had sent for us and our attention had been diverted.

  ‘All of us had long gowns,’ Akruti said, a trifle impatient when I insisted on this brainstorming session before we got ready for the finale. ‘It could’ve been anyone. Besides, we were thinking of this earlier, when the Addl.CP called us downstairs, and we didn’t come up with any names, remember?’

  ‘Because we were called downstairs,’ I reminded her gently. ‘Remember, a lot of us might have worn long gowns, but not all of us could stab like that. Stab with such force, stab so brutally that Lajjo really had no chance.’

  Akruti stared at me. ‘It would have to be someone who knew about weapons,’ she said.

  ‘Not necessarily,’ I mused. ‘Just someone who was quick and clever, deft at such work. Someone with strength, of course.’

  ‘Like Josy, only, he wasn’t up on ramp,’ Akruti said, looking a trifle rueful that he wasn’t, then added, ‘It was a long blade. So for it to have been hidden, even partially, the gown would have had to be loose and flowing, not skin-tight.’

  ‘Yes,
you are right there,’ I agreed. ‘And it would have to be on one of the girls standing at the beginning of ramp, in the darkness, before midpoint. Because after midpoint, Lajjo was in spot, lit up. None of the girls from midpoint to ramp-edge touched her, as the camera showed, and when she reached you, she was already bleeding. So she had to have been stabbed earlier, as she walked …’

  ‘So whose gown was long and flowing, from all those standing up to midpoint?’ Akruti said.

  ‘After the formation change Roxanne stood midpoint. We all saw Lajjo pass her in spot as the music started. I doubt Pia, standing opposite Roxanne a little behind her, would’ve stabbed Lajjo—she was her roommate. If she wanted her dead she could’ve done it earlier. Besides, she was very close to midpoint too, the spot was on Lajjo by then, and Pia didn’t move,’ I asked.

  ‘So that leaves Smriti and Vanessa, as usual. Nina, right at the back. Vandana, Tania, on one side of ramp, Nisha opposite them. And yes, Tara too,’ Akruti met my eyes.

  ‘Tara’s gown was flowing, remember?’ she said quietly.

  ‘It might have been. But you don’t believe that,’ I retorted curtly. ‘Tara isn’t the one.’

  ‘But we have to count her in,’ Akruti’s voice was steady. ‘Smriti and Vanessa were in figure-hugging sheaths, rather difficult to manoeuvre a blade into, let’s count them out.’

  ‘Yes, they couldn’t have done it.’ I said, because I had followed them to their restroom break and back.

  ‘That leaves Vandana, Tania, Nina, Nisha and of course, Tara …’ Akruti said.

  ‘I don’t see Tara as Lajjo’s killer, call me stubborn,’ I said. ‘And Vandana is still in shock from having discovered Nuzhat—do you believe she would have the kind of temperament, quite frankly, the guts to stab anyone?’

  ‘No,’ Akruti said, doubtfully. ‘You have a point, Parvati.’

  ‘Which leaves us with Tania, Nina and Nisha,’ I mused. ‘This is getting murkier and murkier. So many suspects, no one a definite killer.’