Do you know what happens when acid is thrown on your face? Your skin starts melting and fuses together in strange ways. You can scream ‘Help’ all you want, but without lips to form the word, all that comes out is a wordless cry. Like a wounded animal. That’s what he made me feel like. And in exchange, he got exactly what he wanted. I quit my job. I couldn’t take the stares. The fear, the pity, the revulsion in people’s eyes. The disgust. Which I had earned because my husband didn’t have a clear understanding of the concept of fidelity.
I asked him why, if he was so sure I was cheating, why didn’t he just divorce me. He said exactly what you said the other day: that just leaving me wouldn’t be punishment enough. Besides, he said, he did plan on divorcing me. And I was to go quietly into the night, not contesting the divorce or asking for any alimony. Otherwise, he told me, he’d tell the court I was clinically insane. And since I’d already told people that I suspected my supportive, devoted husband to be the mastermind behind the acid throwing, the court would probably believe him, too.
I would be helpless, penniless and alone.
Menaka was the only one I could turn to. The only one who believed me. She told me I couldn’t take it lying down. She told me I had to fight for my dignity. Ravi had to be taught a lesson. And I agreed. I went to her house to stay the night. Yash was away, taking meetings with investors. I went back home after midnight, when I knew Ravi would be asleep. I opened his bedroom door and turned on all four burners of the gas stove and left the kitchen door open. The gas would reach him in some time. He wouldn’t smell it in his sleep and it would make him drowsier at first, then unconscious. Then I lit a couple of candles in the bedroom so the gas could ignite when it spread to the bedroom. Then I went back to Menaka’s house. The next morning, I heard of the explosion.
Perhaps you think I should have tried to expose him in court, brought him before the media, tried something else less drastic. But you’re forgetting what I said: men will never believe a woman over a man. And besides, as Ravi put it, that wouldn’t be punishment enough. He tried to destroy my life. He put me through mental and physical trauma. I spared him both. He wouldn’t have felt a thing.
It wasn’t revenge. It was justice. Which was more than he deserved.
It was more than Menaka deserved as well. But she’d been a good friend to me when I needed her. Even though in the end, she did put her own petty ambitions above our friendship. Even though she was willing to throw me to the dogs to save her own skin. I’d have to be an ungrateful monster to punish her more than necessary.
Now you’re probably thinking why I’m telling you all this. Especially after the goodwill your story will gather for our cause. Two reasons. One, you came to me with an open mind. Even after you heard Menaka’s allegations, you gave me the benefit of the doubt. Your story allows people to judge my actions on their own. You didn’t paint me as some sort of fiend, even after your experience at the farm. That tells me you’re someone I can trust.
The second reason is simply that by the time you receive this, I will have left the city. Sooner or later, the police will find out what they need to put me behind bars for life. I didn’t want to wait for that to happen. And I don’t have to be in the city to continue my work. I don’t even have to be alive, there are others to take my place. But I didn’t want to leave without thanking you. Along with this letter, you’ll find something else. Consider it a token of my thanks.
I hope you use it well. And I hope you continue to put the greater good before self-interest. That’s what separates you from people like Menaka. That’s what has earned you my respect forever.
Till next time,
Nalini
Avantika’s mind was clamouring with thoughts. She pinched the bridge of her nose.
‘OK, there are at least seven things in this letter that are terrifying,’ she said, sinking into a chair. ‘Like, what does she mean “next time”?’
‘What did she mean by “It was more than Menaka deserved”?’ Uday asked. ‘And I can’t believe her husband paid those guys to …’ Uday began, then catching Avantika’s expression, he said, ‘No, no, not … I’m saying I believe her, I just don’t … I can’t wrap my head around the fact that …’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Avantika brushed him off. She repeated her question. ‘What did she mean by “next time”?’
‘What else is in the envelope?’ Uday asked.
She bit her lip nervously as she turned the envelope upside down. A small USB drive fell into her open palm. She looked at it like it was a bomb.
‘What is it?’ asked Uday, who had walked up to her.
She plugged it into her computer. Inside was a single picture. She double-clicked on the icon. When it opened, her mouth fell open. The image was a little grainy. It seemed to have been taken from a cell-phone camera and the resolution wasn’t the best. But it was clear enough for them to recognise one of the two persons in the picture.
‘Isn’t that …?’ Avantika hesitated. ‘But he is …’
‘The state minister for Women and Child Welfare,’ Uday said, his voice low.
‘Uday … that boy,’ Avantika’s voice shook as she pointed to the other figure in the picture, ‘he doesn’t look older than eight or nine.’
‘No, he doesn’t,’ Uday said grimly. He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. ‘Let’s take it to Nathan.’
She nodded as he walked towards Nathan’s desk. If Nalini was planning to ‘continue her work’ from outside the city, this minister’s days were numbered. Might as well try to bring him to justice—real justice, involving the law, the media, the glare of the public gaze—before that happened. Who knew? Maybe if the courts were harsh enough, Nalini might even leave him alive.
Sure. Yeah. That could happen.
Twenty-Three
Nathan was reading a newspaper when they entered his cabin, which wasn’t as odd as his choice of paper. He barely looked up from the copy of the Deccan Journal, shaking his head now and then at whatever it was that he was looking at.
‘Nathan?’ Uday began.
Nathan held up a finger. Uday and Avantika exchanged a look, then parked themselves on the chairs opposite their editor’s desk. A few seconds later, Nathan looked up and sighed.
‘You wanted to see me?’ Avantika asked.
‘Fifteen minutes ago,’ Nathan said gruffly, but his heart didn’t seem to be in it. He handed over the newspaper in his hand.
‘Front page and third page,’ he said, closing his eyes as if to gather patience.
As Uday reached for the paper, Avantika saw the headline on the front page and gasped.
WSPOT COO FOUND DEAD AT VERSOVA HOME
By Ayaaz Shaikh
She tried to snatch the paper from Uday’s hands. He brushed off her attempt, took out the front page and handed it to her, before proceeding to read the third page himself. Avantika grabbed the front page and began to read.
Menaka Gujaral, COO of the popular online fashion portal WSpot.com, was found dead last night in her Versova home. The 40-year-old winner of the Fame magazine Women in Business Award 2018, was found by her husband, WSpot CEO Yash Reddy, who immediately alerted the police. No foul play is suspected. ‘We found an empty bottle of sleeping pills in her hand and there seem to be no signs of a struggle,’ said a police official, who does not wish to be named. A close friend of Ms Gujaral, on the condition of anonymity, told this reporter that Ms Gujaral had been ‘disturbed’ by reports of Mr Reddy’s many indiscretions. ‘She was a strong woman,’ the friend said, ‘but there are limits to how long you can stay strong.’ Ms Gujaral helped Mr Reddy set up WSpot.com six years ago, supporting her husband and partner financially till he got enough investors on board. The website has since seen a meteoric rise. However, industry watchers predict the company’s stocks will see a dip this coming week, and Mr Reddy is expected to address shareholders in an emergency meeting to be scheduled later today.
‘Fuck.’
Avantika looked up from the pa
per and saw the dismay on Uday’s face.
‘What? What?’ she demanded, peeping into the page in his hands.
3 INMATES ESCAPE FROM DEONAR POLICE STATION: 7 INJURED, 1 DEAD IN FURORE
By Preet Kaul
A brawl between some women inmates in Deonar police station’s cells led to the escape of three inmates, late last night. Seven others, including two police constables and a sub-inspector, sustained severe injuries. The brawl occurred when an inmate Vaishali Khare (24) allegedly accused another inmate Heena Shah (29) of being rude to her. A fight broke out shortly afterward when Shah retaliated. As constables rushed to separate the two, the rest of the inmates joined in the fray and in the ensuing scuffle, Shah received a fatal blow to the head. Taking advantage of the resulting confusion, three inmates from the neighbouring cell, Deepika Madan (31), Vimla Kumari (38) and Nalini Gupta (42) managed to escape by prying loose the tin roof of their cell. In a statement given to the press, the station in-charge Inspector Vikas Bhalerao said the police are currently scanning CCTV footage in order to
‘Oh man,’ Avantika said, covering her eyes with her hand.
‘I take it you didn’t know anything about this?’ Nathan asked.
‘No, Nathan. She didn’t tell me she was planning two more murders before flying the coop,’ Avantika muttered.
‘And now we have a story out that’s painting her as someone who deserves our sympathy!’ Nathan sounded exasperated as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
‘Not exactly,’ Uday said, with a sidelong glance at Avantika. ‘We haven’t justified her actions or anything, just said that … maybe they were … she had … provocation.’
‘And I’m sure everyone who connects the dots will spot that nuance,’ Nathan said sarcastically. He shook his head. ‘We got played like a harmonica, kids.’
‘Don’t you mean fiddle?’ Uday asked.
‘I mean harmonica, because that’s how easy it was,’ Nathan said. ‘Thanks to us, as far as the public knows, she’s only killed people who had it coming. She’s a vigilante, out for justice. A saviour of women denied by the system. Unless the police can prove that she killed Menaka and Heena for revenge, every women’s rights activist will find in her a cause worth fighting for.’ He gave a small, bitter laugh. ‘I can just imagine the talking heads on TV, now.’
‘Excuse me,’ Avantika said, getting up from her chair, ‘if there’s nothing else …’
‘There is absolutely something else,’ Nathan said. ‘You didn’t think you’re getting off this easy, did you?’
Avantika looked at Uday. This was going to be awkward enough without having him in the room. She sat back down.
‘Uday, I need a moment alone with Pandit,’ Nathan said.
Uday got up and left the room, but not before giving Avantika a reassuring nod. She squirmed in her seat as the cabin door shut. She knew what was coming next.
‘If this is about benching me …’ she began.
‘It is,’ Nathan said. ‘Tell me, Pandit, how are you feeling right now?’ He waited for an answer, then asked, ‘Good? Proud? Of yourself, the story? It’s a big scoop. You have every right to feel proud.’
‘No,’ Avantika bent her head. ‘I am … feeling like shit, actually.’
‘Good,’ Nathan said. ‘Then you’re not benched.’
‘Sorry?’ Avantika looked up, surprised.
‘It’s simple, really, Pandit,’ Nathan said. ‘A month ago, the story was everything for you. You ran after it and didn’t really consider consequences. But now …’ he waved a hand in her direction, ‘you’re sitting there, the story you wanted so badly is out and you’re feeling …’
‘Guilty? Unhappy? Stupid?’ Avantika said.
‘Which tells me consequences have finally begun registering in that mind of yours,’ Nathan sat back in his chair. ‘Which in turn makes me think that there’s hope for you yet. So no, Pandit. You’re not being put on the desk. You’re passionate, bright and you have instincts. Not great ones, but that’ll happen with time. No, I think you’re better off in the field. Tell you what. I’ll even let you cover crime. But …’ He held up a hand as he saw her expression. ‘You’re not completely off features.’
‘Oh, thank God.’ Avantika felt dazed and a disbelieving laugh escaped her lips. ‘This is great timing actually, because I just got a lead that …’
‘Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m still keeping you on features?’
‘Is it because I don’t yet have the maturity to cover crime full-time?’
‘No, that’s not it,’ Nathan said.
‘Then why?’ Her brow furrowed. ‘Is it just because I don’t like covering features?’
‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ Nathan said with a smile. ‘You do have decent instincts after all.’
‘You were right,’ Avantika said, dropping gratefully into her chair as Uday approached her desk. ‘He’s not benching me.’
‘Sorry, what?’ Uday asked.
‘He’s not benching me.’
‘No, no, that bit before … can you say it again?’
‘What? I said you … Ha, ha, you are hilarious.’ Avantika rolled her eyes.
‘No, that wasn’t it,’ Uday shook his head and pretended to think. ‘I think you said I was right. Right? Well, how about that?’
‘You’re an ass,’ she told him. ‘I don’t know how Drinkle tolerates you.’
He cleared his throat and mumbled something.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘I said that’s not happening anymore. The thing with Drinkle, I mean.’
‘You guys broke up?’ Her eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘When? Why?’
‘It’s not important.’
‘Just tell me!’
Uday made a sound like a bee with existential angst.
‘The night the whole Dharini Farm thing happened. She wanted to … Look, never mind. Things weren’t working out anyway.’
Avantika threw her hands up in despair.
‘Uday! What the hell?’
‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘Would you just tell me already?’
Uday made a face.
‘Do you … I mean … am I cool?’
Avantika gaped.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘Cool,’ he repeated. ‘Do you think I’m … cool?’
‘How would I know?’ she demanded. ‘It’s not like I’m cool.’
‘Drinkle is really cool,’ Uday said. ‘She’s into artisan ale and biking through the Western Ghats and indie bands …’
‘She bikes through indie bands?’
‘Shut up, Avanti. She’s just cool and when I was around her, I felt … very uncool.’
‘So you broke up with her?’
‘No … it was … there was other stuff as well. She thought I was … she thought there was someone else … Look, it didn’t work out. Let’s just leave it at that.’
Avantika gave him a look of exaggerated understanding.
‘It was the name, wasn’t it?’ she asked.
‘No!’ he laughed. ‘She’s nice, fun to hang out with. But just … not my type, I guess.’
‘Really?’ Avantika tried to arch an eyebrow. It didn’t work. ‘Cool is not your type? Nice, fun to hang out with, not your type? Right, right. No, that makes total sense.’
‘You are so …’ Uday shook his head in exasperation. ‘First you get pissed because I’m going out with her, now you’re pissed I’m not?’
‘I’m not pissed!’ Avantika said, wrinkling her nose. ‘Just … I thought … I don’t know. You haven’t dated-dated someone in a while and you seemed to like her, and now it seems like you’re calling it off for a dumbass reason.’
‘It’s not a dumbass reason. We just … there isn’t a spark there and I think it’s because we’re not compatible.’
‘Bullshit. Compatibility and chemistry are two totally different things, Uday! Half the time people can’t even find one, and you’re gunning for two?’ She ga
ve a mocking laugh. ‘Good luck!’
‘Hey, thanks!’
‘I meant that sarcastically and you know it!’
‘I don’t know what to tell you, alright?’ he shrugged. ‘I mean, she doesn’t have,’ he scratched his forehead, ‘opinions. I say, let’s do this; she’s like, sure. I say isn’t this a shit movie and she’s like, yeah, it is …’
‘Wait, wait, wait,’ Avantika held up a hand. ‘So, your problem is … that she’s too cool and agrees with you too much?’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’
‘I don’t know! It just … it felt too easy.’
‘Yeah, no, that sucks,’ she said nodding sympathetically. ‘Too easy? Oh, the horror! So, you’d prefer, what? Someone complicated? Who’s always questioning everything you do? Someone who makes life difficult for you?’
Uday had been looking at her with an amused expression the whole time. Now, the smile dropped from his face and he stared at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. Then, he blinked and looked away, clearing his throat.
‘Guess so,’ he muttered.
‘Wow,’ she said, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘Just … wow.’
‘I know,’ he covered his eyes with his hand and shook his head in exasperation. ‘Fuck.’
‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ he muttered, not looking at her. ‘Fuck, fuckery and damnation.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘You are a strange, strange man, you know that?’
‘Takes one to know one,’ he said.
‘Oh, so I’m a strange man now?’ she said. ‘Nice. Do I get a special pocket to put my privilege?’
‘Naah, you can just shove it up your …’
Her phone rang with impeccable timing. She saw the name on the screen and smiled.
‘Hi,’ she said, sounding a little breathless for some reason. Uday mimicked swooning. She picked up a copy of the Mumbai Daily lying on her desk and threw it at him.
‘Hey,’ said Dhruv on the other side.
‘How are you feeling?’
Fatal Mistakes Page 18