She thought of the evening ahead with Mohnish and her heart raced just slightly. She had to admit it, she was really looking forward to it. Suddenly the accounts papers on her table felt like an encumbrance and she thrust them away, rather uncharacteristically. A restless energy seemed to have unleashed inside her. She would simply check her email and leave.
Several birthday greetings from her friends popped in at the inbox. Sonia was surprised at the way people remembered birthdays. She hadn’t seen some of these friends in years but they always remembered each other’s birthdays. She clicked on the last card absently, then froze. The animated e-card opened with a sunrise, then turned into a heart. On the musical notes of the birthday song, a message appeared on the screen:
Happy Birthday, Dearest Sonia,
My Glowworm…
The sun will shine…
And you will be mine…
You look gorgeous in your red dress!
Thinking of you,
Varun
Sonia stared at the words on the screen, her heart thudding painfully. Like a wave, Varan’s presence seemed to fill the room, and for a moment she panicked. She whipped around. But there was only Jatin, fiddling with his tiny TV set, switching channels. Turning back to the Computer, she replayed the e-card, and despite herself a surge of pleasure replaced the panic. His glowworm… Only Varun called her that… And his favourite poem… How in heavens had he known her birthday? And how did he know what she was wearing? Could he be keeping an eye on her? Following her? She had absolutely no hint of where he was and what he was playing at. Shaking her head in frustration, she shut down the Computer. Varun would drive her crazy one day!
The ambience of Mula Retreat, the restaurant by the river, never failed to please Sonia. The rustic atmosphere, the waiters in traditional uniform, gave the hotel a kind of snug and welcoming warmth. Mohnish sat across the polished wooden table, relaxed and cool in a white T-shirt and beige trousers. The glint of appreciation, as his eyes had moved from Sonia’s red outfit to the glossy swing of her shoulder-length hair, had satisfied her that she appeared fine.
“Happy Birthday, Sonia,” he said softly. “You look lovely!”
“Thank you,” she replied with a pleased smile.
“Should we order?”
After the waiter had taken their order, Mohnish unwound his long form from his cane chair and regarded Sonia with a keen look.
“Has something happened? You seem sort of flushed and excited,” he observed.
His perceptiveness surprised her. She had absolutely no intention of filling him in about Varun’s emails. Both he and Inspector Divekar would pounce at any hint or information, however remote, which might help them catch the international crook. Yet Sonia had no clue what it was that was keeping her silent. All she knew was that she was reluctant to volunteer any information on The Owl or to give up on Varun Thakur. Perhaps because of her very own personal agenda?
“It’s just the knowledge, I guess, that I am older and - I hope - wiser by a year,” she answered.
“I don’t know about wiser, but you’re certainly prettier!” Sonia blushed. “Is that my present for the evening? Compliments for my birthday?”
“Yes… along with this… ” Mohnish placed a wrapped square packet on the table. “Open it.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to… I mean, I was just joking… ”
“Open it,” he commanded gently.
Sonia removed the loosely wrapped paper and uncovered a white cardboard box. She lifted the cover and stared in surprise at the photo frame inside. The photo was a close-up of herself, deep in thought. The glow of sunlight illuminated her face. But the rest of the photo had multiple images of her trailing into a horizon. It was a classic example of what electronic imaging could do to a simple photo. She had never looked more glamorous nor more mysterious.
“It’s wonderful! That is me, isn’t it?” Sonia teased.
“Of course it’s you!” Mohnish laughed. “Dreamy and caught unawares. And the rest of the effect was done by a professional in Mumbai. A friend of a friend of mine. Lokesh is really skilled in photography - he experiments without distorting the looks or the mood.”
“It’s perfect,” Sonia acknowledged warmly. “Thank you so much. But where did you get hold of this photo of me?”
Mohnish grinned. “Some secrets have to be kept from smart investigators,” he replied. The waiter arrived with the food and as they tucked into the bhakri and spicy bharli vangi - stuffed brinjal - Sonia glanced around at the other diners. A group of friends at a corner table was particularly rowdy. One of boys, dressed in a khadi kurta and jeans, rose and recited poetry in Urdu, stroking his beard as he did so. There was an appreciative applause from his companions as he took his seat again.
“Sonia, I’m glad I could finally persuade you to join me for dinner this evening,” Mohnish broke into her observations. “Though I admit I had to slog real hard to get you here!”
This time, Sonia did not return his infectious grin. Instead she said, carefully, “There’s a reason why I did not wish to go out, Mohnish. It’s because I don’t normally treat this as a special day. As a child, my parents pampered me, insisting on throwing kid parties, but ever since I grew up and had some say in the matter, I’ve stopped celebrating my birthday.”
“But why?”
Sonia took a deep breath. She didn’t know why she was revealing her lifelong secret to him. A secret which had been embedded into her soul with inerasable ink. Which scorched her mind every time she thought of it. She had never mentioned it to a soul. Except her parents, of course. But today some force seemed to be propelling her to communicate and divulge her innermost feelings to him.
“I had a younger brother,” she began uncertainly. “Sarang was two years younger than me. When I was six years old my Mother took us to the circus. I remember how excited I was because I loved animals. Halfway through the show, one of the clowns invited some children in the ring. I was very shy but Sarang was an attention-seeker. He loved to be the centre of attention and Mother encouraged him to join the clown. There were four kids in the ring with the clown, when the tent caught fire and within minutes there was chaos. It was horrible. I can still feel the hot flames licking my body and the smell of burning in my nose! Mother and I searched frantically for Sarang, screaming out his name over the din. But it was useless. Sarang was lost to us. Forever. We never found him. Somehow Mother managed to save me in the stampede, but many lives were lost. Later we found…” Her voice choked and she stopped abruptly.
Mohnish placed a hand over hers and squeezed it. “Don’t. Don’t rake up the old pain. You don’t have to say any more. I can imagine what a horrifying experience it must’ve been for you and your family.”
Tears coursed down Sonia’s cheeks. After a moment, she composed herself and wiped her face with a kerchief, embarrassed. “That’s why I have never wanted to celebrate my birthday. Though my parents loved me and went out of their way to make me feel special, a birthday meant that I was alive and he was gone! With each birthday, I can’t help but think of Sarang, even after all these years. If only he were alive… ”
“His loss is incalculable, I know. But it is actually just a lack of his physical presence on earth, don’t you think? Because he lives on in your mind. He’s kind of immortal. Why can’t you try to learn to surrender, to let go and live without that physical body? Accept that and Sarang’s memory will be a source of pleasure for you, not pain. It’s the only way to live, Sonia. Transposing bitter experiences into happy memories.” Mohnish spoke in a soft voice.
“You’re right. And I’ll try. It’s just that I wanted you to know and understand… ”
He nodded. “I understand. End of episode. Let’s enjoy our meal,” he said firmly, and she flashed him a wan, watery smile. She felt loads better.
Changing the subject, he asked casually, “Working on anything at the moment?”
“Not really,” Sonia replied, then told him of Vidya and h
er problems. “I hope to meet with her tomorrow. And perhaps her in-laws, too, not that it would help much.”
“Oh, you never know. Something good may just come out of it.”
“I truly hope so.” She paused, then added, “Mohnish - thank you.” The guileless, honest smile she gave him flooded him with a wave of yearning.
He trained the binoculars on the illuminated window of the room across the street. He had a view of a table with the table lamp on and a portion of the bed. Figures flitted in and out of his line of vision. But it was enough for him to gauge what was happening. They were arguing. He had never seen her so angry. Her Mother-in-law was pacing restlessly, gesturing animatedly, and showing her a soiled sari. She listened with folded arms but with an expression of mutiny on her face, and when she responded, it was with contempt written in her expression. This was like watching a film with no sound track at all. A silent film. Only, the two artists, in focus through the binoculars, wore genuinely angry expressions.
The argument seemed to go on for a while and then, suddenly, it was over. The two of them vanished from the scene. He moved his binoculars around, trying to locate the two figures. Then, a couple of minutes later a pair of hands appeared, from the right side of the binoculars, carrying a glass of milk. The glass was placed on the table. Then the hands departed. Minutes passed. No sign of life. Then the hands reappeared and something was dropped into the milk. The hands vanished and for a while there was no more activity. He waited patiently, curbing a sense of disbelief. What exactly was happening in her room?
Then suddenly she came into sight again, drew a chair, and settled down at the table. She moved the glass of milk to her right and began writing. He tried his best to catch her expressions, but her back was turned to him. It was obvious that she was crying. He could guess that much, from the manner in which she brushed her eyes repeatedly and the way her shoulders shook. Occasionally she turned around, and threw furtive looks, almost directly toward him. He shrank back instantly. Then shook his head. There was no way she could spot him, of course.
Half an hour later, she stood up, drank the milk, and turned off the light. He could see no more.
“Boss, call for you. I think it’s Renuka Gunaji,” Jatin informed.
It was eleven-thirty in the morning and Sonia had been awaiting her call. Renuka had promised her that she would phone, first thing Monday morning.
“I’ll take it,” she replied, placing Nidhi on the pillow. She lifted the receiver. “Hello?”
“Miss Samarth! Something really terrible has happened!” Renuka’s breathless gasp instantly caught Sonia’s attention.
“What’s happened?” she asked.
“It’s Vidya… she’s dead!”
“What!”
“Last night… and the Police suspect murder!” the tearful voice explained.
An icy chill ran down Sonia’s spine. “Are you sure?”
“Oh yes… Can you… can you come down here? I am at Vidya’s house. It’s terrible… ” Renuka broke off into a sob.
“I’ll be there right away,” Sonia assured her. “Just give me the address.”
Jatin was standing at the door, a concerned expression on his face. “Anything wrong, Boss?”
“Everything’s wrong! Let’s go!”
Sonia drove as fast as she dared, manoeuvring the traffic on University Road, towards Parihar Chauk. Fifteen minutes later, she was at Vidya’s house. A Police car crossed them as she and Jatin drove into the parking of the building. Renuka was sitting on a bench in the parking but she rose hastily the moment she caught sight of the van.
“I’m so glad you could make it. I just had to talk to someone!” Renuka clasped Sonia’s hand. Her face was blotched with tearstains.
“Tell me everything. Where is Vidya now?”
“The police took her body away. Her husband was working a night shift and returned around six. Vidya usually woke up around five, before the whole family rose. This morning when she did not rise, Parmeet was puzzled and shook her. That’s when he found her cold in bed. It was only when I telephoned this morning that Parmeet told me the bad news. I rushed here. I didn’t even get a last glimpse of my friend. My poor Vidya! I was afraid this would happen. Why didn’t she leave these people and go home? I knew she was in danger!” Renuka wailed.
“Shh… Renuka, you must calm down. This is not the place to raise doubts and suspicions,” Sonia admonished. “Can we go into the house? I’d like to see where it all happened.”
“I think we can. I’ve already told Inspector Shinde that you’re coming. Vidya lives on the first floor. He is talking to the Sahays right now.”
She led the way up the stairs and to an apartment on the left. Two Constables were standing outside the door, but Renuka walked past them and into the small hall. On the sofa a middle- aged couple sat together. Mr Sahay, a tall thin man with a balding head, wore a crumpled white kurta pyjama. His wife, wrapped in a printed white cotton sari, sat beside him, her pony-tailed, oiled head bent, intent on what he was saying. Both wore impatient, irritated expressions.. Instantly any vestige of sympathy that Sonia would’ve felt for these people vanished. Beside them, a young man slumped, his head in his hands. Medium-heighted and dusky, Parmeet Sahay was the spitting image of his father. Sonia’s eyes rested on him with candid interest.
An Inspector in uniform stood by the grilled window, which displayed a queue of potted, indoor plants. The policeman was looking down at the trio seated on the sofa. Silence seemed to fill the house. As if he had just dropped a question which these three couldn’t answer. He glanced up, as the Renuka and Sonia entered the room.
“Inspector Shinde, can I speak to you for a moment?” Renuka asked.
Immediately the Inspector strode towards them.
“This is Sonia Samarth. She is the detective I told you about,” Renuka introduced in a low voice.
“Sonia Samarth… The name sounds familiar,” the policeman frowned.
“I run a detective agency called Stellar Investigations,” Sonia told him.
“Of course! I remember now… astrology and crime, I’d read about you in the papers. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Vidya was my best friend and I want Sonia to look into the matter,” Renuka explained.
The Inspector smiled. “We’ve finished with the place actually - the body has been taken away and the fingerprint experts have already left. I don’t mind if you take a look around. Anything more you discover will only help us in our case.”
“Certainly. And I assure you I won’t meddle with the working of the police,” Sonia added.
“But we don’t want any outside meddling!” Mr Sahay spoke up harshly. “Our daughter-in-law is dead! It’s bad enough that Police have entered this house. Now a private detective - !”
“Babuji, take it easy. Let them do their job!” Parmeet spoke up wearily.
“Do their job by asking us stupid questions? As if we killed our own daughter-in-law, when it’s obvious that she committed suicide?” Mrs Sahay demanded harshly.
“If it’s a suicide, then where’s the suicide note?” Inspector Shinde turned to the couple. “Look here, Mrs Sahay. No one’s flinging any accusations yet. But that doesn’t mean we’re not going to follow the evidence. We found a bottle of sleeping pills in your cupboard. If your daughter-in-law committed suicide, what was an empty bottle of sleeping pills doing in your cupboard?”
“We told you before, my Mother takes sleeping pills occasionally! Many times Vidya herself has given those pills to her. As a matter of fact, so have I!” the dead woman’s husband answered.
“But it was full the last time I saw that bottle!” Mrs Sahay declared.
“And it is empty now. And found in your cupboard. Vidya drank a glass of milk before sleeping and she was dead by morning. There is every chance that glass of milk contained the same pills which belonged to the bottle in the cupboard. And if that happens, you can forget all notions of suicide,” the Inspector remarked
grimly.
“That woman was trouble when she was alive and she’s still trouble now that she’s dead!” Parmeet’s mother grumbled nastily.
“Maa!” Parmeet uttered in a frustrated tone.
Renuka turned a furious face on the older woman. “Vidya gave every ounce of her energy, time, and love for this family, and this is all you can say for her? That she was trouble? The fact was that, despite you making life miserable for her, she stuck by your side, refusing to leave her home and a husband who didn’t deserve her! And now she’s gone! So now you can be happy!”
“Renuka, stop it!” Sonia put a firm hand on the agitated girl’s arm. “Let the police deal with this. Show me Vidya’s room, will you? Inspector, do you mind?”
The Inspector gave her a go-ahead signal while Renuka looked daggers at the in-laws. Both glowered back at her. Sonia prodded the girl and she moved reluctantly. Jatin followed.
“It’s a three-bedroom apartment. And this is Vidya’s room,” Renuka stepped through the doorway of the scene where her friend had breathed her last.
A double bed took up most of the space. A table and chair and two steel cupboards stood against the wall. A window with a sliding pane overlooked the courtyard and the street. Sonia stood in the centre of the room and tried to imagine what had transpired. Vidya had been administered a dose of sleeping pills. She had drunk a glass of milk before going to bed and had been found dead at dawn. Had the pills been in the milk? And who had put them in there? The obvious suspect was, of course, Mrs Sahay. After all, according to the Inspector, the bottle was found in her cupboard. Had Mrs Sahay got rid of Vidya, because the poor girl couldn’t supply her avaricious demands? If that was the case, the woman deserved the worst punishment possible!
Sonia strode to a cupboard and turned the handle. It was locked.
“That is Parmeet’s cupboard and the other one is Vidya’s,” Renuka explained.
The second cupboard opened easily. Sonia looked through the contents. Ironed saris, with matching blouses and petticoats and a couple of Salwar Kameez, all hung neatly on hangers. Every article had a place and was neatly folded. Even her handkerchiefs. Vidya had been a disciplined and tidy person. The drawer contained some receipts, papers, and a money purse. Sonia casually riffled through the papers and to her great surprise found a booklet. Vidya’s horoscope! What luck! Sonia’s immediate impulse was to open the horoscope and begin reading it. But she curbed the desire. She had to go about this case logically and patiently.
Stellar Signs Page 4