Fear Is the Key

by Juggi Bhasin

  She looked around angrily. She wanted to tear everything down in her apartment. She quickly stripped and showered, alternating between hot and cold. She came out in her bathrobe and took out a bottle of vodka from the refrigerator. Two fingers of the best Swedish vodka helped to settle some of the rage building in her. She began to reflect on her sessions with Rahul. They had been uneven and a little tumultuous, but a lot of progress had been made towards the end. Just when it was all coming together, he was off, half-cocked, in a completely new, dangerous direction. She could feel in her bones that his plans with the three men would come unstuck. It could blow away all the intellectual and emotional investment she had made in him. Story of her life.

  CHAPTER 33

  ‘Wonderful tonight . . . wonderful tonight . . . wonderful tonight.’ That was all Rahul kept repeating as he was rushed to the operating theatre. A part of his mind questioned the incongruity of thinking of an old, scratchy song at a time when he stood at the crossroads of life and death. The journey to the operating theatre covered a stretch of overhead white lights that seemed never-ending. Rahul could see that Suhel, covered in sweat, was running along with the attendants and a nurse to his left. He could hear the clatter of the stretcher. He could feel his life blood slowly ebbing away, and it was not lost on him that it would be touch-and-go for him. At a moment like this, when he had been shot millimetres above the heart, the bullet barely missing his thoracic artery, everything around him had become crystal clear. The men and women in his life, the two-way street he would cross in these relationships, the mystery of the white column of light, all that and more suddenly connected. His mind felt lucid like never before. He finally saw the big picture. But then there was a ring of irony to his moment of truth. He knew he might not live to enjoy it.

  He was still mumbling Eric Clapton’s ‘Wonderful Tonight’ when the anaesthetic knocked him out.

  When Rahul woke up, he saw a picture on the wall. It was of a young boy trekking through a green valley. Tears sprang up in his eyes after he realized that he had made it. He closed his eyes gratefully for second chances. He slept contented and woke up again after a few hours to find Suhel sleeping on the sofa in the corner, a news magazine covering his face.

  ‘You don’t have to do that, Mama,’ said Rahul, making an attempt to prop himself up on the bed. ‘I would prefer a good-looking nurse. Surely a close shave with death comes with attendant benefits.’

  Suhel woke up and, tossing the magazine aside, helped Rahul sit up. ‘Look at you, singing like a canary. Back from the dead, huh? How was it on the other side? Did you see a long tunnel and white flashing lights?’

  Both Rahul and Suhel laughed, and Rahul broke into a coughing fit. Suhel helped him sip some juice and smoothened out the pillows.

  ‘The doctor will be here soon. Seriously, pal, you had me worried. I won’t tire you with the “what happened” stuff. The police, especially Inspector Kripal, has pieced together some of the stuff. But it’s . . . it’s incredible what has come to pass.’

  ‘Yeah, it is, isn’t it? I know people are dead. I nearly did not make it. But my instincts were not wrong. I thought I was lost to the dark side. But there is always a shade darker out there, is there not?’

  ‘Yes, buddy. You always had a nose for such things, didn’t you? Look, don’t tire yourself any more. Your body is weak, and your mind, for all this new-found exhilaration, is weaker. You need to heal and take rest. Lots of it.’

  Rahul didn’t need to be persuaded. He drifted off soon enough due to the heavy medication.

  *

  Three days later, Suhel once again propped Rahul up in bed for an audience with Inspector Kripal. The Inspector looked remorseful. He sipped tea from a styrofoam cup. He seemed to have lost a lot of weight. Rahul was quick off the bat.

  ‘You look fit, Inspector. Congratulations! Though it pains me to see you drinking herbal tea.’

  Kripal attempted a sheepish smile. It did not fit well with his tough, bully-cop makeover.

  ‘Arre, Sirjee, you are entitled to make fun of me. You deserve to do that. I think an apology is due . . . from my side. I was unnecessarily suspecting you for Shamonaji’s disappearance. You proved me wrong.’

  ‘Disappearance or murder?’

  Rahul had asked the question hoping that by some miracle the inevitable would turn out to be false. Kripal’s morose face fell even further.

  ‘There is no hope, Sirjee. She is dead. Her body, though, is still untraceable.’

  There was no sign of any emotion on Rahul’s face. He had lived in dread with the lie that she was still alive somewhere. To be finally told the truth by someone else came as a relief to him. All that was left for him to do was to grieve for her. He had his life ahead of him for that. He spoke stoically.

  ‘And what about the final body count?’

  ‘Sirjee, Usman and Fredo were brought dead to the hospital. Janki’s naked body was found in a steel trunk buried in the garden behind their building complex. She died a horrible death.’

  There was complete silence in the room as the three men digested the import of the facts of the case.

  Rahul then came to the point and asked the pertinent question. ‘What about the perpetrator? What about the ghoul who murdered Simone, Janki, Usman and Fredo and shot at me? Where is he?’

  Kripal raised his head to meet Rahul’s eye. ‘Dubey is on the run, Sirjee. There have been sightings of him in Mainpuri. Police teams are closing in on him. It won’t be long before we arrest him. I assure you of that. This heinous murderer will be brought to trial.’

  Kripal finished his tea and took out a notepad and pen.

  ‘Just for the record, Sirjee. Please describe the chain of events as they occurred on the night of the dinner at your place.’

  Suhel was quick to interject. ‘Do we have to do it now, Inspector? He has suffered a life-changing trauma. He will have to relive it all over again. He is still frail . . .’

  ‘I understand . . . I can come another time, Sirjee,’ Kripal closed the notepad and made an attempt to get up.

  Rahul shook his head and asked the inspector to remain seated. ‘No, Suhel, this is a festering wound. Let me close it for once and all. Another chai, Inspector? I might take some time narrating the facts of this case.’

  Suhel ordered more tea from the hospital cafe, and Rahul picked up the thread of events as they had unfolded on that fateful night.

  He spoke with a sense of superiority, ‘I had set up a trap for them. Please remember that I knew they were in touch with Simone in various capacities. The objective of calling them for the dinner was to find out if they were connected to each other or if they had conspired as a group or in a twosome to abduct, perhaps rape, and murder Simone. Or whether it was simply a lone wolf attack carried out by one of them. I had an advantage because I had interacted with them, and I knew what they were all about.

  ‘Fredo, in my opinion, was the weakest link. I called him before the others came in. I entertained him with expensive Scotch and eats. He was completely on my side before the other two walked in just five minutes apart.

  ‘Their game was up the moment they saw each other. The look of amazement on their faces quickly turned into anger directed against me. Usman, quick to anger even at the best of times, really lost his shit in that moment of revelation. Dubey was quieter but more vicious. Fredo looked befuddled as if betrayed by the same man who had posed as his benefactor moments ago.’

  ‘Why did they lose their shit?’ asked Kripal.

  ‘That’s precisely the point, Inspector. They must have exchanged information, photos or perhaps even plotted to kidnap and murder Simone. Their reaction, to say the least, was quite hostile. After all their secret was now known to a stranger.’

  ‘What happened next?’

  ‘Well, Inspector, I took the game to the next level. I told them to calm down because a lot was at stake. I told them that I had to check out their backgrounds thoroughly because the stakes would be very h
igh for what I would offer next. It did not make a difference to me whether they were perverts, rejects, roadside Romeos, molesters, rapists, conmen or even murderers. As a matter of fact, it suited my business purpose.’

  ‘What was your business proposal to them?’

  ‘Inspector, I proposed to set up the largest “bot” system in the country. I offered them a sweet deal, which was a mix of some equity and a handsome payout every month.’

  ‘Bot? What is this bot business proposal?’

  ‘A bot is slang used on the Internet. Let me explain it in simpler terms. I proposed setting up a secret facility manned by hundreds of bots or programmers who would destroy reputations on social media, create parallel telecom networks, spread lies, infamy, doubt, and above all fear in the minds of people. These bots would unleash Internet worms or malware that would jam up computers, and people would be forced to pay ransom, or ransomware as we call it, to unlock them. You might have heard of top actresses’ nude pictures being hacked into through iCloud and being released? I proposed getting into the iCloud of ordinary people and blackmailing them for their Internet stash of nude photos and sexual kinks. In short, Inspector, I proposed setting up a master agency of all that is wrong and deviant on the web. I told Usman, Fredo and Dubey that they would be kind of pioneer deviants of this new enterprise. It does not take great imagination to foresee that this would rake in tonnes of money.’

  Kripal, for a moment, looked completely stupefied. Then he drawled, ‘Did you really plan to do this, Sirjee?’

  Rahul looked at Suhel and both smiled knowledgeably. Suhel told Kripal, ‘It’s already happening, Kripal Sirjee! I have flirted with small networks who do this. But let me assure you, Rahul and I have no intention of going down this path. Rahul used this idea as bait to draw them in.’

  ‘Please continue, Rahul Sirjee,’ said Kripal curtly, ignoring Suhel.

  ‘So, Inspector, this idea stopped them in their tracks. Usman was back to his grovelling self with “Hyder Bhai, you are the greatest”. I told them that I had used false pretexts and names to know them better. They could call me by any name. I was faceless, casteless and there was no point guessing my religious identity. They again became sceptical of my intent, which is when I introduced the game changer that set the mood for the evening.’

  Rahul went on. ‘I told them it was but natural to be sceptical about my proposal. In a sense, we were all conmen gathered under one roof. Why should one believe the other? The proof of the pudding always lies in its sweetness. I took out a briefcase and opened it in before them. They could not believe their eyes as I counted bundles of currency notes before them. There were ten lakhs in cash before them.

  ‘I told them that as initial goodwill I would give them two lakhs each. They could not believe what I had told them. They probably had never seen so much money in their lives. I handed over their packets, opened a bottle of Scotch and poured a drink for everyone. Once they downed their drinks the tension in the room was broken. Usman told me that he would always think of me and address me as Hyder Sahib. I told him that it was fine with me. Fredo had never seen so much money before. Perhaps no one had shown any degree of respect to him. He was literally kissing my hand. Dubey was the only one not too eager to show any emotion. He nodded his assent and, for an alcoholic, he did not have too much to drink that evening. I thought that was a little strange. As the evening progressed, he became quieter and a little withdrawn.

  ‘After an hour of eating and drinking, I asked whether they had begun to believe me or not. They were in high spirits as they replied in the affirmative. I told them that it was my turn to ask them for a favour. I asked them to place their cellphones on the table. I told them that I wanted to examine these so that there were no more secrets between them and me. Dubey reluctantly agreed, while Usman supported the idea. Fredo was walking on air, and nothing I could say or do could be wrong.

  ‘I examined their cellphones and found a common WhatsApp group called “Three Fuckers”. It was full of porn, lewd messages and exchange of photos that would be a voyeur’s delight. I scrolled up further and saw Fredo’s pictorial handiwork on Simone featured in all three cellphones. It’s difficult to describe the emotions I felt then. It was anger, revulsion and curiosity all at the same time. I was so engrossed in the photos that I did not notice when Dubey got up. He said to no one in particular, “I am going to get a drink.” I was preoccupied and the other two were too drunk to care about what he was saying. Dubey calmly walked to a side table and stood with his back to us.

  ‘The singular thought that obsessed me at that time was how and why had these three come together? From the corner of my eye, I saw Dubey’s back at the side table. He had muttered something about fetching a drink. But there were only snacks on the side table. The malt and the Scotch bottles had been placed on the dining table. What was Dubey doing there?

  ‘I was a little late in understanding Dubey’s intentions. He turned, looked at me calmly and brought up the automatic tucked under his sweater. He fired twice, aiming the automatic at me. The first bullet brushed past my eyebrow and I think it might be still lodged in the wall. The second bullet hit me close to the heart. Fredo, screaming like a wounded dog, scrambled under the table and Usman being Usman charged at Dubey only to be pumped with three bullets in the stomach. Dubey then walked up to Fredo and dragged him out as he whimpered and pleaded from under the table. He made Fredo kneel execution style and shot him in the head. Then Dubey turned his attention to me again. I was fully conscious even though I was losing a lot of blood and breathing unevenly.

  ‘Then Dubey, with studied calm, came up to me and pulled up a chair. What he said next is hard for me to get out of my head. He said, “Rahul Sahib, I know who you are. Actually, I have known you since the day you threw that big party at your place. Oh yes, I was very much there that day. How did I reach? Long story. Well, the thing is that the world is full of idiots like Usman and Fredo who are expendable. Not me. I am the silent minority that observes and waits for the right time to strike. I have waited for a long time to strike. I was suspicious about you since the day you sat in my taxi. I could sense you were playing a game. You wanted to get something out of me. I played along. I let you in my life. I even allowed you to fuck my wife. You thought I was sleeping when you screwed her? A reptile only pretends to sleep. I am aware that Janki told you of my connection to Ms Simone. It suited me perfectly. You became obsessed with me, and I wanted to see where it would lead. Great irony, isn’t it? You were stalking me but I allowed it to happen in a way that let me profit. As for Ms Simone, please remember my wife and I had dealt with her earlier. She had spared us, but the threat would always be hanging over our heads. She was in possession of documents that could put us behind bars. A man like me, Mr Rahul, never leaves loose ends. I eliminated her on the night of your big party. The modus operandi was simple. I leave it for you to figure out in the afterlife. After she was gone, you started playing detective. What bugged me was not that you screwed my wife. It was your insolence to think you had the brains to outsmart a professional fraudster like me. I hate it when upper class, corporate-types like your lot roll up their sleeves and get into the mud thinking you know the game better than us! If it’s any consolation to you in your dying moments, then let me tell you that I was not in the least interested in Simone sexually. I exchanged her photos with these two idiots to keep them in the loop. Idiots also serve a purpose in the universe. I was forced to eliminate her because, as you will perhaps understand, it was purely business at the end of the day. Your dying question must be “why this mad rush to eliminate everyone?” Actually, you gave me the idea when I went up to the side table to fetch a drink. I knew you had taken our cellphones to collect evidence against us, especially me. Sooner or later, my involvement in Simone’s murder would be out in the open. You had fooled these two idiots with your fantastic story of bots and parallel networks. None of that was going to happen. You were simply on an old-fashioned quest, seeking answers
and revenge. When I had my back towards you, it occurred to me that here was a chance to begin my life anew. I could eliminate the three of you and walk out with ten lakh rupees, no question asked. I had come for this meeting with a gun, prepared to face the unexpected. That automatic has served its purpose. Mr Rahul, I have the three lakhs you gave to Janki sitting in the house. Thirteen lakh rupees is enough money for a man like me to put his past behind him and start afresh. Without the wife, of course. Oh yes! I don’t need that old, wanking cow any more. Her sexual appetite nauseates me.”’

  Rahul continued. ‘Dubey smiled, got up, rearranged the chair and aimed the automatic at my head. “Any last thoughts, Mr Rahul, before I end this?” he asked. I was struggling to speak as the blood was filling up in my mouth. Nevertheless, I asked him. “What made you turn up on the day I hosted the party?”

  “No particular reason really. It’s easy to mingle and become invisible when scores of people are floating around. We live in strange times, Mr Rahul. Luck no longer favours the brave or the innocent. It favours the deviant. Goodbye, Mr Rahul.”

  ‘Dubey fired but the firing pin jammed. He tried again and again but it was of no use. He looked sullenly at the automatic and then started laughing before throwing it away. He walked out of the apartment saying, “I am a God-fearing man, Mr Rahul. If you had to be killed then it had to happen in one go, cleanly. I cannot contrive to kill you by other means. You will probably end up dead, but I am prepared to take my chances. So long, Mr Rahul.”’

  After presenting his version of the events, Rahul looked exhausted. Suhel offered him some coconut water.

  Inspector Kripal abruptly got up and paced about the room. ‘It’s quite a story, Rahul Sir. I believe every word of it. It all fits in except one thing. How did Dubey make Shamonaji disappear?’

  Rahul looked worn out, but he answered.

  ‘It was a simple ruse really. It was right before our eyes, but we refused to see it. I had hired professional caterers for the evening. They had brought in the crockery, cutlery, wine, starters and food. Most of it was brought inside in a couple of housekeeping carts. These have a shelf space big enough to tuck in a human being. Dubey must have switched places with one of the caterers. He was probably in disguise. At the first opportunity, he knocked Simone out with a drug, or using force, and pushed her into a cart. The funny thing is that the caterers and the carts were very much there when the police were called in. After the initial investigation was complete and all the guests were screened, the caterers were allowed to leave. Simone must have been knocked out all along. There are two service elevators in our apartment complex. One is used by the residents and the other by the household help and service providers. Both elevators are under CCTV surveillance. I am sure Simone’s journey out of the apartment in the cart was recorded by the cameras.’