Nothing Lasts Forever - No Secret Can Stay Buried

by Vish Dhamija

  'That's ridiculous. It could have led you down a totally unwarranted investigation, spending time and money in vain. Anyway, thanks for clarifying, Inspector. I've been unnecessarily suspicious of Kim ever since that day. She's been such a good friend. I can only blame myself for sharing your apprehensions in the first place.' Serena sounded relieved.

  'It's okay now. I told you I have a record of closing all cases in less than three months, didn't I?' D'Cunha boasted.

  'Yes, of course.'

  'I will be sending my report to the authorities before the end of the week. This case is now closed,' he said.

  'Thank you.'

  After the call to Serena, D'Cunha reflected on the events that had occurred the day after the meeting with Kim at the police station. He had been having breakfast with his wife and kids in their cosy two-bedroom apartment on the fourth floor in the Mumbai suburb of Andheri East. Theirs was a thinly furnished house with inexpensive furniture and drapes. Even some of his junior colleagues lived far more lavishly than he did, but he was different. He was clear that his aim in life was not to accumulate wealth; he had joined the police force to serve honestly. His father had retired as the Additional Commissioner of Police for Mumbai and Michael D'Cunha had ambitions to reach even higher. To him, his father was symbolic of strength of character, having grown through the police ranks, like him, and reached the pinnacle of his career solely on the basis of hard work and commitment. The senior Mr D'Cunha was still revered by some of Michael D'Cunha's superiors, a number of whom had trained under his father. When D'Cunha joined the police force, he was under tremendous pressure to live up to his father's reputation. Much of it was from the expectation of his peers and senior colleagues, but he, predictably, had never let them down. He had built up a reputation of a tough cop, who lived with the clichéd motto of service before self. And, he had not done badly. He was still in his forties and, given his track record, he was already earmarked for his next promotion. It was only the red tape taking its time now.

  The telephone ring killed the breakfast conversation with his family. D'Cunha looked at the clock, on the wall across the modest wooden dining table laminated with some cheap plastic veneer, and it was fifteen minutes past nine.

  'Michael?' It was his immediate supervisor.

  'Yes, Sir,' D'Cunha said.

  'What have you found out about the recent incident of the fire at Raaj Kumar's apartment in Worli?'

  'Sir, we are still looking into it. In fact, as I told you yesterday, we questioned this girl Kim and she could be a vital thread in…'

  'Forget it,' his supervisor barked, discourteously, cutting him off in the middle of the sentence. 'The girl has nothing to do with this the case.'

  'But sir… I think we've got a point…' D'Cunha tried explaining.

  'No, Michael, in my opinion you're missing the point — it was an accident. Raaj Kumar is dead. It does not matter if the girl slept with him or not. In any case, she was nowhere near Worli at the time of the accident. She was on a shoot at the Taj Hotel in south Mumbai and she has more witnesses than you can count. Perfect alibi.'

  'I understand that sir, but if we can prove that she could benefit from Raaj's death in any way…' D'Cunha tried convincing his supervisor politely.

  'Michael. Kim is an up and coming model who is connected to some really powerful people in this city. I am under excessive pressure to inform you that you will not be doing the department, or yourself, any favours by pursuing that line of inquiry. On the contrary, the girl has access to some of the best lawyers who would, in turn, charge you with defamation and drag you to court. Now, you don't want that, do you? You're due for a promotion. One wrong move on your part can destroy your prospects in this department.' He knew how to make a real impact.

  'Okay, sir.' D'Cunha was a smart man. He knew he had been pinned.

  'I do not want you to contact Kim without my permission. Is that understood?' his superior asked.

  'Yes, sir.'

  'Good day.' The boss slammed the phone down.

  Fortunately, it was a Sunday, as D'Cunha l was in no mood to go to the office after that hostile call. Sleep eluded him for a long time as he lay in bed later that night. His mind was battling between the truth and the pressure. He could still go ahead with his investigation with Kim but, the whole bureaucratic machinery would turn into an enormous headwind to provide overwhelming obstacles and he would only exhaust himself struggling against it. Even if he, somehow, managed to continue his search and eventually found nothing at the end of the winding road, he would have to pay a rather heavy price. Maybe Raaj Kumar and Kim had a fling. So what? He wasn't in the moral police force. An extra marital affair was not what he was investigating in this case. Frustrated by powerlessness, he convinced himself he should focus his endeavours towards any suspicious movements around Kumar's apartment in Worli that ill-fated evening.

  He wasn't abandoning the case; he was only diverting his efforts to solve it, he persuaded himself.

  ***

  The inspector had put Serena, too, under observation and had run a comprehensive investigation on her; being the only beneficiary of all the insurances, she could hardly be excluded from suspicion. His team came back with a report that she had either been brooding, sobbing or mourning since the beginning — she hadn't met anyone except Kim and a chef from the Sheraton who was an old mutual friend of she and her husband; the only calls made were to her office, Kim, the estate agent and a few to the local grocers. She had merely gone out shopping once, for some essentials, with Kim. Her passport clearly showed that she had travelled to Singapore on the fateful day and returned after D'Cunha had called her about the accident. She had been married to Raaj for three years. None of the friends questioned suspected her of any extra marital affair. On the contrary, all of them reflected that Serena and Raaj was an ideal couple, barring a few envious people who had earlier given him the otiose tittle-tattle on a plausible romantic liaison between Raaj and Kim. However, when police had probed these imbeciles later, they confessed that they could have been wrong in their assessment.

  None of the neighbours interviewed had seen anything suspicious. The security guard of the building in Worli remembered seeing Raaj only once during that day, driving out in the morning, with his wife. He wasn't aware what time Raaj had returned but on one of his rounds of the building after lunch, around two in the afternoon, he had seen both the cars in the basement car park that indicated Raaj was back in the apartment before that time.

  One of the viewpoints was to probe into suicide, but no one who knew Raaj accepted the theory, even for a minute. There were no grounds to doubt his mental state after meeting his family physician and there had been no family history of such tendencies. Moreover, his business was flourishing and there hadn't been any losses in the recent past that would make him take a desperate step.

  After having exhausted all suspects and all other lines of enquiry, D'Cunha contemplated the possibility of Raaj disappearing from the country after leaving another dead body with no one, including his wife, knowing of it. But, the chances of that were very slim — a lot of people had recognised the face and the DNA report was conclusive enough. There wasn't anyone reported missing the same day, hence producing a dead body in itself was intriguing and impossible. Besides, Raaj's passport was found burnt in the apartment so he could not have left the country. Also, there wasn't a motive; the insurance sums weren't credible if one took into account his promising business and his contented life with his wife and friends.

  D'Cunha deliberated for quite some time before convincing himself to close the case and sign the papers.

  9

  Serena met Kim for coffee. Both of them were casually dressed in jeans, only their tops were different. Kim was wearing a floral fitted shirt that contoured her shape. It was neatly tucked into her jeans. Serena wore a skinny-fit light blue T-shirt.

  'How have you been, darling?' asked Kim in her usual friendly tone.

  'Fine, thanks. I'v
e been trying to come to terms with reality. Sorry I haven't called for some time. I wanted to be alone to sort things out.'

  'I understand.'

  'I will start at the office again from next week. Hopefully, it will get me back into life, as I need to start living again. Why don't you move in with me for a week before I start?' Serena proposed.

  'I am game. Let's go buy some office wear for you.'

  Kim moved into Serena's apartment the same evening. Both the women went to Shoppers Stop for some quick buying. It was certainly not one of the legendary shopping trips that they had indulged in together in the past — shopping binges, which lasted a full day and ended in a spa or club in the evening where Raaj usually joined them. In fact, Raaj was a happy man since Serena had befriended Kim. He could now escape Serena's infamously long shopping sprees, which he detested like most men.

  'You always loved to take me shopping when were dating,' Serena had pointed out once when her shopping plans had been vetoed vociferously by Raaj.

  'Correction, my dear… I loved to hang around with you when we were not married and shopping was good as it lasted longer than a meal or a movie. Now that we live together I think we can do better than going out shopping,' Raaj had explained.

  'But, don't you have to buy some shirts?'

  'I'll pick some up on my next trip. You know it is a ten-minute job. You girls make a ritual of trying on everything before you buy. For us, a collar size is enough to buy a shirt.' He had walked away into the study.

  The mood was very different today. They had a set purpose to pick up some office clothes for Serena, as she had nothing left after the fire in the house. If she was to begin work from next week, she needed respectable clothes. She had been living out of her suitcase and some borrowed clothes from Kim for a month now. There was no way she could have managed it any longer. It was extremely nice of Kim to have agreed to come shopping with her, or else she would have had to do it on her own.

  'Black suits you,' Kim commented as soon as Serena had picked up a skirt suit.

  'Thanks.' She walked towards the changing room with a few hangers.

  A few shirts, trousers and one suit later, Serena was prepared to go to the till. But Kim had fallen in love with a short black dress and wanted to try it on.

  'Go on. Black suits you too.' It was Serena's turn to return the compliment.

  'I want you near the changing room so I can have a second opinion. I want it for formal wear so I don't want it very short, it shouldn't flash more leg than required,' Kim requested.

  'I understand. Go change and come out and show me.'

  Kim was a professional model. It took her precisely two minutes to change.

  God — she's looking gorgeous in the short black dress, Serena thought when she saw Kim come out.

  'Wow!' That was all that came out of Serena's mouth.

  'Honestly?'

  'I swear.'

  'Not too short then?' Kim looked for reassurance.

  'Not at all; you look stunning. It reveals exactly as much as you would want in a formal setting. But, what do you need a formal dress for?' Serena asked.

  'I will tell you in a minute. Let me go and change.'

  Kim was out in two minutes. 'One of the creative directors, from an advertising agency I work with, has been nice and would like to promote me. He's invited me for a sit-down dinner with other guests as a friend… he's promised to help me get more contracts. I would like to look right on this occasion. Reveal a bit of leg to the crowd but without looking desperate. You know what I mean?' Kim asked.

  'It's a great choice for such a party. You won't look desperate in this dress but you will create more than a ripple,' Serena said.

  'That'll do, my friend.'

  'All set to become a big time model?' Serena commented.

  All Kim needed was a big break. She was a natural beauty with an attractive face and an incredibly shaped body and had nurtured her personality to suit her profession, resulting in great panache for what she did. She was not exactly struggling, but she was nowhere near the A-list supermodels that got the prized assignments, adulation and respect from the industry, which obviously translated into wealth. If something like that did not come her way soon, she would pass her prime and would always be considered as a 'B' grade model. The detergents and depilatory creams were good for survival, but it was certainly not something Kim would want to be remembered for, if she would be remembered at all. With no mentor in show business, beginning small was a necessity, but staying small was certainly not the plan. After a long time, one guy had seen potential in her work and she wasn't leaving it to chance. This could well be her big break.

  Kim took Serena shopping for the house in the next few days and made her buy lamps, linen, pots, pans, a dinner set and even ordered new curtains.

  'You need to get things that you can relate to. Or else you would keep feeling you live in someone else's house.' Kim had emphasised.

  'Okay.'

  The week ended very soon. Both friends knew what they had gone through in the past few weeks, though they did not discuss it, but they were glad that their relationship was intact.

  ***

  The office felt alien to Serena after being away for five weeks. The people were nice and polite. One of her direct reports had managed well in her absence, so things were not pending to over burden her on her return. She met her manager GK, who was only too polite, asking her if she wanted some more time. She explained that sitting at home wasn't proving helpful any more and she would rather carry on with work to keep herself busy. It took Serena only a couple of weeks to come up to speed and then she was back in action.

  10

  March 1997

  GK was anything but a traditional south Indian Brahmin. After completing his post graduation from the Kellogg School of Management, he had worked in the bank for over five years in America and then returned to India as the business head for retail banking. Like most Indians from the south, he had a long name that was shortened to initials in business school and carried on in his personal and corporate life. While in America, GK fell in love and married a girl from New York, something for which he was ostracised by his family and the Brahmin community. As for him, he never had any regrets about marrying Stella. She had always stood by him, altered her lifestyle, had become a vegetarian, wore Indian clothes when required and even spoke some Hindi. Unlike a lot of inter-cultural marriages, where the Indian spouse stayed back in the more developed and comfortable part of the world, she had decided to move to India with him. There were rumours that she was dating other young men in the banking circles. People could never stop talking about how gorgeous she was and, often, wondered how she could have fallen in love with a guy like GK.

  GK had an in-depth understanding of the banking industry and how his portfolio in the growing Indian economy impacted the global corporation. Understandably, his outlook was broader than running a fiefdom for short-term gains. One of the major reasons for his meteoric rise within the organisation was his leadership skill of catching sight of opportunities early for business and providing important career breaks to competent people. He was quick to spot and nurture talent. His mantra was simple and commendable: if the people under him did not grow, he wouldn't either.

  Serena had been working for GK for a little over three years now. He had always regarded her as an individual with a lot of potential and the capability to rise above the ordinary. She had delivered every project for him proficiently — on time and within budget. Moreover, he saw a glimpse of himself in her business acumen and people-handling skills. There was no way she could be content with hanging on to her current assignment for long. In the last three years, he got her to the next grade and added a new operational function to her responsibilities that made her the head of retail banking for the Western region, but that, he knew, was not enough. GK was mindful that if he did not find a good opportunity for her soon, the competition would, and he wasn't prepared to lose a valuable resource lik
e Serena. He had offered her a big break in Singapore, a year ago, but she had declined it. She wasn't ready to move out of Mumbai as Raaj had a thriving business in the city, a dilemma every successful couple faces at some point where one has to compromise career opportunities for the other.

  Circumstances had changed since then, and GK speculated on whether Serena would now be willing to take up an assignment abroad. He decided it was worth discussing the possibility again if there was a suitable opening. Fortuitously, he did not have to wait for long. GK had invited the whole department to the Juhu Gymkhana for a party to celebrate his tenth wedding anniversary. He had been considerate enough to send out the invites early, giving people time to plan ahead. The party was only a week away now and he was considering having an informal word with Serena to check if she would be interested in some project abroad.

  ***

  The evening was super. Stella and GK had got the club to arrange everything on the terrace. Two marquees were set up; one for the bar stocked with all kinds of beverages, and the other with crispy bites that would later be converted into dinner buffet. Hot snacks were to be served by the club staff all through the evening. Regardless of being vegetarians themselves, the host couple had ordered food for an omnivorous crowd. GK had a large department with four direct reports and each of them had a sizeable team. With almost half of them coming with their partners, they were expecting over forty guests.

  People started arriving by eight and were greeted by the couple. Serena had anticipated that Stella would wear a sari for the ceremonial occasion and decided to wear one herself. She had, however, not envisaged that both would end up wearing the same colour that evening. Pink. Only, hers was lighter than Stella's. Both women looked gorgeous. Stella, who was at least five years older and ten centimetres taller than Serena, had chosen a dark pink silk sari with a crimson and gold border that contrasted beautifully with her pale skin and blond hair. As an alternative to the traditional custom-stitched blouse that most Indian women wear, she was wearing an even darker pink halter-neck top, made of lycra, which contoured her form and somehow made her look even more glamorous. Serena had chosen a lighter shade of pink and looked extremely attractive too. Not surprisingly, all the other women were in Western outfits. If there were an award for the shortest dress that night, it would have gone to GK's secretary Maria who wore a blood-red short dress that barely covered her bottom.