Again, I was surprised by her quick recovery. I shook my head.
“Shalini, I am sure you have a reason for your actions. I want you to know that I see you as a woman of substance, and that will not change, no matter what. I promise you one thing, however. If I find the murderer, I will tell only Mr Paras Kapoor.
“I will not disclose anything to the police, or to any other family member. If it is any solace, Mr Kapoor is not going to hand the murderer to the police. He may only transfer the person to a psychiatrist.”
She started to shiver. Her body was trembling. I saw her pupils enlarge. There was a cold knot in my stomach, as I remembered the poison theory. But she hadn’t tasted the vodka. I went towards her just before she passed out. She wasn’t faking it; she was out cold. I lifted her up and placed her on the bed. I held my finger beneath her nose and checked her pulse. The breathing was normal, and the pulse was steady. She needed rest. I covered her with a blanket. I hadn’t got a confession, but a bond had been created. Between a detective and a criminal. Ironical. The bond of common suffering.
I picked up the mobile on the table next to her bed. I went to call-register and checked her received-calls. The last ten calls were from the same person – Raj. I checked her dialled-numbers folder. The last six calls Shalini had made were to Raj. The last one was made at eleven-fifteen, minutes before I came into her room. I checked her messages. The inbox was empty. She had deleted all the received and sent messages. I flipped through the deleted-messages folder. One of the messages was still there. It had come at eleven-twenty. It read,
Just thinking. The gypsy theory is weird. Just offer him money. Relax. You will get thru this. I am always there for you.
I dialled the number. He picked it up at the first ring. “Hi baby. How did it go?”
“It went just fine.”
He was silent for a few seconds. “Who is this? Where is Shalini?”
The tone tottered between panic and anger.
“I am Vishal, a private detective hired by Mr Paras Kapoor. You are Raj?”
“Where is Shalini?”
“She is asleep.”
“Wake her up. I want to speak to her.”
“Not a good idea. She needs some rest.”
“If you have harmed her, you will be sorry! I know about you.”
“Listen Raj, why don’t we meet?”
“I am on my way. Stay there until I come.”
“Splendid. How much time will you take?”
“I will be there in twenty minutes.”
“Great. I am waiting.”
I exited Shalini’s room with mixed feelings. I should have felt euphoric, but I felt dismayed. I had nearly solved the case. But the solution would also bring an end to Aditi’s presence in my life. Paras’s words resounded in my head, Do your work and leave.
It had been a mistake to get onto this case. Like cancer, her magic was engulfing me, and each cell in my body had turned traitor, prompting me towards her. I hoped I would see her again.
I tried to subdue my thoughts about Aditi, and concentrated on what had transpired with Shalini. I had almost got her to confess. The corridor led to a balcony. I walked into the balcony, and felt the warm sunshine and crisp air. A colossal tent covered the lawns filled with hundreds of neatly stacked chairs. A portrait, the size of a billboard, was placed at the centre. I focused on the handsome, young face of Anil that smiled at me from the portrait. It was a pity to die so young, no matter how fiendish he was. I saw Vimal barking orders, and supervising the caterers who were laying food on the tables. The waiters lingered around carelessly. There was no sign of Aditi.
“I am here, sir,” I heard a familiar voice behind me. I turned around and saw Ram.
“Ah … here you are. I was looking all over for you,” I lied.
“I have been waiting for you to come out of Shalini madam’s room, sir. Malti told me you had come to the kitchen. I am sorry; I was out on an errand. Do you want to talk to me now, sir?”
The excitement was evident in his eyes. I could almost imagine him telling his grandchildren the story of the great detective, who interrogated him regarding the gruesome murder of Anil Kapoor.
“Who’s Malti?”
“She is my niece. She took you to Shalini madam’s room.”
All my suspicions were fixed on Shalini. The poor lady had almost acknowledged her crime. I decided to interrogate Ram purely out of habit, rather than agenda. Maybe I could get an insight about Shalini’s relationship with Anil.
He led me to the dining room, so that he could keep an eye on the cooks. The aroma of the various delicacies being prepared tantalised my nostrils, and I remembered I hadn’t eaten a thing since morning. Ram turned out to be a mind reader.
“Sir, have you had breakfast?”
“Yeah,” I lied. I didn’t want any digression.
“Would you like some tea or coffee?” he asked obsequiously.
“Sure. Coffee. Black. Thanks.”
Ram yelled at a servant in the kitchen, and asked him to make some black coffee for me.
“I heard how you caught Leo, sir. It was a very brave thing to do. Could I look at your eye?”
“Sure,” I said, removing my sunglasses, and let him make a fuss over it.
I gave him the same bullshit about Paras having given me the rights to question him, and began his interrogation.
“How long have you been working with the Kapoor family?”
“Seven years, sir. Since the time they built the farmhouse near my village. I helped Paras sir procure the land, and then supervised the construction of the farmhouse. My main responsibility is to take care of the farmhouse whenever the family comes visiting.”
“Not much work, eh?” I winked at him.
He appeared shocked. “Oh no, sir! I travel to the city at least twice a week – whenever there is a function, or whenever the family travels abroad, like today I am here to supervise the cooks and the other domestic servants. In fact, my presence here is so important that I have a permanent room in the servant quarters.”
“Point noted. So you are indispensable to the family.”
His chest swelled up by at least a few inches. A servant came in with my coffee. I was just about to pick up the cup when Ram stopped me.
“Idiot!” he shouted at the servant. “Get the other crockery. Do you know who he is? He is from the police. How many times have I told you to get cream biscuits for important guests? The ones Vimal sir got from America.”
The servant vanished, depriving me of the hot coffee, but I said appreciatively to Ram, “I see what you mean. You are the man in charge.”
He gave me a grovelling smile. I was not actually from the police, but I hated the idea of telling him the truth and disappointing him. The coffee gave me a rush of energy, and I decided to shake Ram up a bit.
“How is your neck? I see the scratches have almost disappeared.”
He paled visibly. “Sir, I got them from the trees in my village. I will cut a tree and bring it to the city, so that you can see how densely they are covered with thorns.”
“No, no, not required,” I said hastily.
I pretended to stare at a non-existent mark on my nails, and said casually, “Anyway, Babu will get the fingerprints report by tomorrow. There were some fingerprints found on the body. You needn’t be afraid, since you didn’t touch the body.”
He looked terrified. “Sir, I did touch the body when I found it. My fingerprints would definitely be there.”
“Did you touch the knife?”
“No, sir.”
“Then there is no need to worry. The police would most probably take the fingerprints on the weapon. I will inform them that you touched the body accidently though. Rest assured.”
His face regained the entire lost colour, and he offered me the imported cookies.
“But then of course, if the murderer was smart, and wearing gloves … as I suspect he or she was, then the police would have to rely on the fingerpr
ints on the body to zero in on the suspect. In that case, there would not be much I could do.”
“Oh no!” he gasped. “I need to talk to Inspector Babu.”
I almost choked on the cookie. “No need for that. I will take care of you.”
He folded his hands in appreciation.
“I know an innocent man when I see one, although…“
“Although what?” he shrieked.
I whispered, “Well, we have firmly established that the murderer is an insider. And remember, Ram, blood is always thicker than water.”
“What does that mean?” he said, confused.
I looked at him, picked up another cookie, broke it dramatically into half, and gobbled one piece. I paused dramatically.
“Do you know what our first lesson is, while investigating a murder case like this?”
He shook his head.
“That in ninety per cent of the cases, the person who discovers the body is the murderer.”
His legs wobbled, and his hands started trembling. I quickly leaned towards him and said reassuringly, “I am your best friend here, okay? Who do you think is the murderer?”
He gulped, looked in all directions to ensure that no one was eavesdropping, and whispered, “Sir, I haven’t told this to anyone because no one would believe me. They think I am an old fool.”
“They are snobs,” I urged in my most bourgeois tone. “Tell me,”
I was barely able to bear the suspense. Would he name Shalini? Detectives have many a time relied on the careless and frank testimony of the domestic help, to solve a crime.
He whispered, “Sir, Anil sir was an evil man. He was punished for his bad deeds.”
“Well, for God’s sake, who did it?”
“You just said it, sir.”
“What did I say?” I controlled the urge to shake him.
“God.”
“God?”
“Yes, sir. When Paras sir bought the land, and was clearing the site, we found a small Shiva idol in the middle right where the beach is. I begged sir to construct a boundary and give it the respect it deserved. The place of worship was demolished for people to lie half-naked in the sun. You know what Paras sir did? You know what he did?”
I could guess, but I dutifully shook my head.
“He removed the idol, and gave it to the construction labourers working at the site. God has taken revenge.”
He was livid at the memory of the blasphemy.
“How come?” I was too dazed to react.
“Don’t you see, sir? The hammock was right at the position where the idol had been. You know what happened one day? I was requesting Paras sir to consider shifting the beach somewhere else, and build a small temple there instead. Anil sir heard me. He laughed at me and urinated on the beach – right where we had found the idol.”
Ram trembled with anger, remembering the act of desecration.
“One day my friend Kishore, while returning from the city at midnight, saw a white spirit sitting on the beach and crying … at the same spot.”
Was he pulling a fast one on me? I noticed his wide eyes, the pulsating veins on his forehead, the terror-struck posture, and gave him the benefit of the doubt.
“So you are saying that a white spirit killed Anil?”
“It was an act of God, sir.”
“How is that possible?” asked the non-believer.
“With God, anything is possible,” said the believer.
‘With God, anything is possible,’ I repeated slowly. I squinted to look in another direction to suppress a rude laugh. I took a few deep breaths before speaking again. Knife-throwing gypsies, and God, would be a formidable opposition for anyone.
“Well, let’s hope God doesn’t take care of all retributions himself. I would go out of business!”
Ram looked shocked.
“Okay, Ram, I have a few more questions.”
I didn’t want him to gauge my suspicions about Shalini, so I kept her for the last. “Tell me about the brothers – about their nature, and the relationship between them.”
He spooked me by looking for imaginary white spirits in either direction before replying in a whisper, “Sunil sir and Anil sir used to fight incessantly. Every day, sir. If it wasn’t for the timely intervention of Paras sir or Vimal sir, one of them would have killed the other a long time back.”
“They used to fight over—?”
“Over everything, sir. They were two opposite planets sir, Rahu and Ketu.”
“Focus, Ram! What was the most common reason for their fights?”
“Anil sir was lazy and cruel. He was wasting his father’s money. Sunil sir is a good man, but he can’t control his temper. Everyone is scared of Sunil sir’s temper, including Paras sir. They always fought over money and business.”
“Were the fights serious?” I asked.
“Oh yes, sir. Very serious. The servants tell me that the night Anil sir was murdered, there had been a big fight between the two in the evening. Very bad, sir!”
I leaned forward. No one had mentioned a fight to me.
“Okay. Tell me about this very bad fight.”
He leaned towards me, till he was practically on my lap, and spoke with an ultrasound frequency that even Bruno would have found difficult registering.
“Speak up. I can’t hear a thing.”
“Paras sir has forbidden the servants to speak about it in front of the police.”
“What exactly has he told the servants?”
“Well, I was not a witness to the fight, sir. I was at the farmhouse. But Malti saw the fight. She’s my niece. Paras sir has instructed her not to talk about it to anyone.”
I tried to maintain a deadpan expression.
“Hiding important information from a police officer, who is investigating a murder, is a crime with a minimum sentence of two years. Tell me everything you know about the fight.”
“I can’t, sir. Malti will lose her job, and I my respect in front of Paras sir.”
“Listen, Ram, your telling the truth will help me capture the murderer. I have already hinted to you that you are our prime suspect. I am your only friend, remember?”
He muttered weakly, “I can’t be disloyal. I have had their salt, sir.”
“Don’t be stupid. It must have been Tata’s. And it will taste the same whether you have it here or in jail.”
I could see he was considering the options.
“You promise not to tell Paras sir that I told you?”
“I swear!”
He said, “The fight took place on Saturday evening, before they left for the farmhouse.”
“Would you know what the fight was about?”
“Well, I have spoken to the other servants, and have an idea. They are building something big in the city, sir … something very big, and very costly, at MG Road junction. Sunil sir is handling it.”
“Yes, I am aware of the mall they are building.”
“It was a cursed project, sir, the root of all problems,” he paused dramatically.
I was sarcastic. “Why? Did they find an idol there too?”
“No, sir! Please don’t make fun of such things. A lot of money was borrowed for the project … from illegal sources. Rowdy people started coming to the house and shouting at Paras sir. Vile things, sir … very vile things. Since Sunil sir was handling the project, Anil sir used to blame him for the financial distress of the family. Of course, I am not the one to gossip. I just heard some servants talking.”
“This is not gossip; this is a healthy discussion. Please go on.”
“Have you heard of Muktiar Ali? The Don?”
“No. Who is he?”
His eyes became the size of saucers.
“Muktiar Ali? He is going around with Rakhi, the film actress! You must have heard of him?”
I had no idea what he was talking about, so I nodded vigorously. “Yes, Mukhi. I remember now. What about him?”
“On Saturday, his men came to the house. They
started throwing the furniture around. Malti hid behind this cabinet when they came in. Sunil sir rushed down to confront them. Malti told me that Sunil sir tried to pacify them, but they wouldn’t listen. They carried a piece of paper that they threw at Sunil sir’s face, and accused him of cheating the lenders.”
“What was that paper?”
“One of those stamp papers that we use to buy and sell properties.”
“Okay. What else did Malti tell you?”
“They left threatening dire consequences if the money was not arranged. After they had left, Sunil sir read that paper and lost his cool. Soon he was shouting at Anil sir, and Anil sir was abusing him. Malti told me, they were yelling at the top of their lungs.
“The servants told me that the fight escalated when Sunil sir said something about Anil sir’s boyfriend. Anil sir slapped Sunil sir. Sunil sir picked up a knife, and chased Anil sir around the house. Malti swears that Sunil sir would have stabbed Anil sir. He was a madman that evening!”
“What happened next?” I asked
“Anil sir locked himself in the bathroom. Sunil sir kept banging on the door, striking the door with the knife shouting in anger. He calmed only when Paras sir arrived. He had …”
“Wait! Sunil chased Anil with a knife on Saturday evening?”
“Yes, sir! Malti saw it with her own eyes.”
“Get Malti here now.”
He was reluctant about that. I gave him my don’t-argue-with-me stare.
Ram ushered Malti into the room in a few seconds. He introduced me. “Malti, this is Inspector Vishal from the CID. Tell him the truth.”
From the police to CID over a cup of coffee. That must have been the fastest promotion in the annals of the Indian police.
I decided to benefit from the prestige bestowed upon me. “Yes, Malti, I am from the CID. Tell the truth, all right?”
“Yes, sir.” she trembled.
“Was there a fight between Anil and Sunil the day Anil was found murdered?”
She looked at Ram, who encouraged her to go on.
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell me, what happened exactly?”
“They were shouting at each other. We expected the fight to stop quickly, since they often fought. But that day they came to blows. Sunil sir said something and Anil sir slapped him.”
Seduced by Murder Page 10