Seduced by Murder

by Saurbh Katyal

  “Sexual deviancy? How do you know that?”

  “I got an anonymous call from an informer. He is the one passing me the information. I can’t tell you more,” she pleaded.

  I didn’t press the matter further. She was probably referring to Anil’s homosexuality. I would have to warn Paras about this. Maybe he could pull some strings and tone the article down.

  I said with a straight face, “I am only surprised that a publication as reputed as yours responds to anonymous phone calls.”

  She smiled triumphantly.

  “I checked with Inspector Babu. He’s in charge of this case. As soon as the informer called me, I spoke to Babu, telling him that we knew that the murderer was from the family.”

  “What did he say?”

  “His first sentence was, ‘How did you find out?’ Then he tried to deny it. I pressed him till he gave me an affirmation. After that we became fast buddies. He is cute.”

  I silently cursed the imbecile. Even if he was not the informer, he had played his part in leaking the information to the media.

  The waiter came to take our order for the main course. I had barely picked up the menu when she prompted, “Do you want me to order, since you are new here?”

  “Sure. That would be out of the world.” We had a chatty lunch that lasted more than an hour. She chatted and I listened. I dropped her back to the Scooty, and promised to expedite the meeting with my boss. I tried to reach Vimal on his phone, but my call went unanswered. The only other number I had was Aditi’s.

  Sunil picked up the phone. “Hi, Vishal. Aditi is busy. Can I take a message?”

  “That’s all right. Just wanted to inform you that Crime Busters is doing an article on your brother’s murder. We can’t do much about it, but I think they might publish something about Anil’s sexual preferences. Just wanted to update your dad, so that he can pull some strings, if possible, and keep it from being published.”

  “The bastards! Any idea who is working on the story?”

  “A journalist called Anjali Singh.”

  “Thanks again. I appreciate your kindness. Aditi has come. Do you want to talk to her?”

  “Nope. That … “My battery went kaput. I reminded myself to buy that car-charger.

  It was almost four in the evening, and there was not one drop of alcohol in my body. Except for the vodka shots I had taken in Shalini’s room. Vodka couldn’t be counted as booze. It was milk for a grown-up man. I drove towards office.

  Aarti was in a bad mood when I reached office. She pounced on me.

  “Boss! Why don’t you ever charge your phone?”

  “My eye feels just fine; thank you for asking.”

  “Oh … how’s your eye?”

  “Is Pranay here?”

  “Yeah. He’s been reading comic books since morning! I told him to talk to Mrs Singh for the remainder fee. He hasn’t.”

  “Thank god for that! You should know better than to provoke Pranay into talking to clients!”

  I marched into my cabin, and found Pranay asleep on my chair, with a comic book over his face. I took the comic book off his face and shook him awake.

  “Good nap, Batman?”

  “Yes, thanks.” He stretched and got up.

  I picked up an envelope that had arrived by courier, and tore it open. It was my retainer cheque for the Kapoor case. I handed the cheque to Aarti, and told her to deposit it first thing the next day. She saw the amount on cheque and cheered visibly.

  “He’s paid the entire fee in advance?”

  “This is just the retainer, baby.”

  She looked at me in disbelief. “No kidding?”

  “I never jest when it comes to money.”

  “That’s almost double the usual retainer!”

  “There’s more where that came from, if I am able to locate some missing cash. So let me get to work.”

  I opened the drawer and took out a steel flask. I poured some whisky into it, and vowed never to make the mistake of leaving the office without it. Aarti exited my cabin, holding the cheque delicately in her hands. Pranay poured himself some rum, and emptied a packet of wafers into a big yellow bowl. He went to the fridge, and got out some ice cubes. I loved it when he displayed efficiency at work.

  I walked over to the window and sat on the sill, looking at the busy scene below. I took a sip of the whisky and let it caress my tongue. Traffic seemed to be moving in slow motion, and the clamorous honking from vehicles drowned every other sound in the street. A dirty woman was carrying a malnourished child, and begging for change. Two street dogs were fighting. A formally-dressed man was talking on the phone, while eating what looked like a patty. Couples and children walked on the pavement. The whisky was still caressing my tongue when the phone rang. I gulped it down reluctantly and walked to the table.

  “Hello, this is Vishal.”

  “Hello. I saw Shalini throw the locket. She threw it out of the back gate.”

  It was a woman. Husky and accented. There were three women who were present at the farmhouse. This was definitely not Aditi’s voice, and Shalini would not call me to testify against herself.

  “Who is this?”

  “She threw it out, when you and the police had left.”

  “Reena?”

  She disconnected the phone. I redialled the number. It rang a million times before someone answered.

  “Hello?” a gruff male voice greeted me.

  “Hi. I got a call from this number.”

  “This is a public phone booth.”

  “Where?”

  “Lamington Road. Next to Thomas Bakery.”

  “Okay. I got a call from this number a minute ago.

  Did you see a woman leave?”

  “This is a local line. You can put in a rupee coin and dial the number. I don’t have time to waste, observing who comes in.”

  “Fair enough. Can you ask someone else in the vicinity if they noticed a female leaving a few minutes ago?”

  “Are you from the police?” he asked cautiously.

  “No.”

  “Then fuck you.”

  He hung up.

  I dialled the Kapoors’ landline. Sunil picked up the phone. I disconnected, and dialled again after two minutes. This time Ram picked up.

  “Ram, this is Vishal. Is Reena at home?”

  “Ah, no, sir. The guests just left an hour ago. Paras sir insisted that everyone go out and get some fresh air. Reena madam has gone to the club.”

  “Which club?”

  “Oasis Club. She plays tennis there.”

  “Thanks.”

  The Oasis Club was the most prominent club in the city on Chancery Street, which was parallel to Lamington Road. Evidently, Reena was not even trying to cover her tracks. That could mean one of two things: either she was genuinely dumb, or incredibly innocent. What bothered me was the manner in which she had spoken on the phone. It was almost as if she were speaking under pressure, waiting to get it over and done with.

  Nevertheless, if Reena was willing to testify as an eyewitness, there was no need to wait. We would have to arrest Shalini and Rajesh right away. The only thing that bothered me was why Reena had decided to call me all of a sudden. Maybe she felt guilty, and was genuinely trying to help. She was definitely not trying to hide anything.

  Half an hour later, I was negotiating an entry for Pranay and myself with the security guard at Oasis Club.

  I said patiently, “Yes, Ms Reena Kapoor. Please check. We are her guests.”

  “She did not mention she was expecting any guests.”

  Oasis Club was strictly elitist. Entry only for the members, or guests accompanied by members.

  “She must have forgotten. You must surely be aware of the tragedy that has befallen the Kapoor family. Besides, how would I know that she was here, if she had not personally invited me?”

  “Sorry, sir. Maybe you should call her and tell her to send someone to the reception confirming this.”

  “She is playing t
ennis right now! This is very insulting. I will complain about your lack of civility to Mrs Kapoor. What is your name?” I began reversing the car.

  He looked confused, and came running towards the vehicle.

  “Sir,” said the guard sounding worried, “She has not even paid the entry fee for guests.”

  “She told me to pay for it. How much is it?”

  “Well … it is five thousand rupees per head, sir.”

  I did not register any emotion as I handed him a credit card, and he swiped it. Besides me, Pranay clucked his tongue saying, “They better throw a complimentary Thai massage for this kind of fee.”

  As the guard made the receipt, he blabbered, “I am sorry, sir. It is on the orders of Mr Paras Kapoor that we are strict about the rules here.”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  “He is one of the club’s committee members, and is very strict.”

  “Okay. I will recommend you to him. Good job.”

  I took my card back, and debated whether to tip him or not. In the end, I decided against it. He was probably earning more than me anyway.

  I parked my car amidst a horde of Mercedes, Audis, and other shiny cars that I had seen in The Fast and the Furious. I walked towards the signboard in the middle of the parking lot. The tennis court was behind the card room, which was next to the library.

  The card room was the last building on the plot. We had to enter it, walk to the end of the passage, and walk down a few steps to reach the tennis courts. The deserted courts were filled with water from the rain over the last two days. This was definitely not conducive for a game of tennis. I thought I heard a woman laugh. An L-shaped plot housed the courts. Pranay and I walked through the puddles to reach the elbow of the plot and stopped.

  In a secluded corner, Reena was sitting on a bench with a tall man. They had their backs towards me. They leaned against each other, as if conspiring together. With no shrubbery to hide behind, we couldn’t risk standing where we could easily be seen.

  The wall of the building that harboured the card room ran parallel to the L-shaped plot. There were two windows in the card room that could give us a good view of the bench, if they were open. We retraced our steps, and entered the card room. There were only a few old people there. I walked to the window at the end of the room. An old man, with a set of cards in his hands, looked at me suspiciously. I tiptoed to the window next to him. He brought his cards close to his chest and shot a warning glance. I smiled at him, shook my head to tell him that I was not interested in his cards, and pointed at the window.

  The window hadn’t been opened for decades, and I struggled for a few minutes trying to push it open. There was a thud as the window opened, and dust flew in all directions. The old man started coughing. I looked at him apologetically. He brought the cards close to his chest again, and scowled at me. I turned my back to him and stared at the bench. I could see Reena and her companion clearly now. Both of them were dressed in sports wear—T-shirts and shorts for him, a skirt for her; and sports shoes.

  They looked fresh as daisies. They hadn’t played any tennis today, which was understandable since the courts were flooded. They were both engrossed in their animated conversation, their heads close together. I could not hear them, but I noticed something strange about their posture. They were sitting too close to each other. Reena was laughing uncontrollably, leaning her head against his shoulder. They reminded me of lovers meeting in a park. The fact that they were sitting on a rusty bench, hidden from public view, also roused my suspicions.

  The man placed his arm around Reena’s shoulder, and said something that sent her into convulsions of laughter yet again. He casually placed his right hand over Reena’s thigh. Slowly, his hand began to slide up and down, suggesting that he was stroking her thigh. Reena leaned back, opening her legs wider. His hand crept up further. Reena closed her eyes, and threw her head back. Her thighs were now clamped tightly over the man’s wrist. The skirt covered his hand, but from the gentle movement of his arm, I knew what he was up to.

  Pranay whispered, “Dude, is he doing what I think he is doing?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is he Vimal?”

  “No.”

  “Fuck! Why would they do this publicly?”

  “Don’t know. The forbidden fuels the passion, I guess.”

  There was a sigh – a lustful sigh. I turned around and saw the old man, who had been hiding his cards from me, standing behind me. He was hardly five feet tall, and I had not noticed him behind us at all. He grinned toothlessly at me and said, “Nice. Very nice.”

  His hands were no longer clutching the cards to his chest. In fact, the cards were now embarrassedly hiding a part of his anatomy in his trousers. He looked away from me quickly, and began staring out of the window again. I guess he must have been at least seventy.

  “Careful, grandpa. You could get hernia.” He was oblivious to everything except the sight in front of him. I decided it would not harm an old man to get some voyeuristic delights at his age, and made way so that he could get the front row. He grinned and walked forward. I had never given much attention to Reena. I reassessed what I knew about her. She seemed to be a typical rich father’s daughter married to a rich father’s son; a bit too vain, a bit too good-looking; and too fashionable to have any intellectual ambitions. I added sexually promiscuous and exhibitionist to the list now. The man’s movements seemed to be getting more and more rapid and stimulating, and Reena threw her shoulders back, shaking with excitement, as the man conducted the symphony with his fingers. Reena jerked her neck to the right. We found ourselves staring at each other. She paused, and suddenly pulled the man’s hand out of her skirt, signalling to the window. Both of them stared at me, shocked. Reena squinted to get a good look at me, and put her hand over her mouth. She had recognised me. I waved at them. My phone rang in two minutes.

  “Hello?”

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Who is this?” I asked sweetly.

  “You know damn well who this is. Come out this instant!”

  “Tell you what. Daddy knows you have been a dirty girl. Meet me at the cafeteria near the parking lot, with the gentleman.”

  I disconnected. Her voice had been shaking with anger, but I hadn’t detected any trace of fear.

  “Dude, I will interview Reena and her companion. Why don’t you go and try to extract some information from the waiters?” I said to Pranay.

  “About?”

  “About Einstein’s theory of relativity. What do you think?”

  “Uh … uh … you mean about Reena?”

  “Yes, Sherlock. About Reena and the gentleman with her. Question the waiters about their relationship.”

  “Why would they tell me?” he asked, doubtful.

  I snapped impatiently, “Because you will pay them money! Offer them a thousand bucks each for any useful information they can give.”

  “Thousand bucks! That’s too much.”

  “Just do as I say. Meet me at the parking lot when you are done.”

  Reena entered the cafeteria with her companion in ten minutes. Wickedness makes a woman more charming. I had always found Reena attractive, but today she looked downright sexy. Her face was flushed.

  Her companion was a tall man with a goatee, and cold grey eyes. She stood next to me and glared, ignoring my offer of the seat in front of me.

  I smiled. “Good game? You both look so flushed.”

  “What are you doing here? Who let you in?” she asked coolly.

  “The guards did.”

  She thundered, “I will have you arrested for trespassing.”

  I had to admire her. I had caught her being fingered by a man, and she was the one threatening me.

  “Okay, but then I would have to call your father-in-law, and request him for my release. I heard he is on the committee.”

  A black cloud formed over her head, and she had murder in her eyes.

  “You bastard! You think you can
blackmail me, huh?”

  Her companion butted in, “Come on, man! Be mature about this. We were just having some harmless fun. Reena and I have known each other for a long time.”

  I nodded at him.

  “I like a reasonable man. Why don’t both of you sit? All I want to do is talk.”

  The man whispered something in Reena’s ear, and she sat down reluctantly. She crossed her legs slowly, giving me a glimpse of her firm, shapely thighs, and black panties. Junior stirred, feeling claustrophobic, and demanding immediate release.

  I diverted his attention by coming straight to business.

  “Why did you make the call about Shalini?”

  “Because—” she stopped abruptly, remembering just in time that she was not supposed to tell me.

  “Why did you make that call?” I repeated.

  She sighed. “Because Dad told me to.”

  “Mr Paras Kapoor?”

  “Yes.”

  “And did you actually see Shalini plant the locket outside the back gate?”

  “Yes. I walked into her father’s room on Sunday. I saw her hurling the locket out of the window.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Nothing. I didn’t make much of it that day. I had gone to her room to check on her, since she hadn’t been feeling well. She was not in her room. So I went to her father’s room. I opened the door and saw Shalini throwing the locket outside the window … towards the back gate.”

  “What time?”

  “Umm … just after you and the police had left.”

  “Did you confront her?”

  “No. As I said, I didn’t think much of it that day. She was startled when I entered the room. I asked her what she had thrown out of the window. She said something about empty tablet sachets. I knew she was lying because I had seen something solid, made of metal. But the ambulance was waiting to collect Anil’s body, and I was busy.

  “I had completely forgotten about the incident, until the day Babu found the locket outside the gate. It was then that I realized what Shalini had thrown out from Mayank Uncle’s window. It overlooks the back gate.”

  “Did you confront her then?”

  “No. Dad had rushed to Leo’s house. You were there. When I saw Dad in bandages yesterday at the hospital, I told him right away. I was afraid he would go after Leo again.”