Ten Days

by Leena Nandan

  Rozy laughed. ‘You seem to be equally fond of forgetting your footwear.’

  The realisation of the circumstances under which Tina and her sandals had parted company sobered them up instantly.

  Rozy said quietly, ‘I know you didn’t want to talk about it yesterday night, but do you think there’s some obsessed guy behind it? And how has he managed to get hold of your picture?’

  Tina tried hard to remember when she’d last seen the album. She’d somehow, while shifting house, carted along loads of her stuff through five exhausting trips made in Shelly’s apology of a car. In fact she still felt sore whenever she thought about how she’d been let down. They’d interchanged schedules because of yet another pressing commitment of Shelly’s, as a result of which Tina had to put in the night shift all five days and she could only do her unpacking after getting home in the morning. One day she’d almost passed out at her desk and Raghav, usually so unflappable, had given hell to Shelly. Tina hated fuss and had tried to play down the whole thing but Shelly had been very cold to her. That she had also reneged on her promise of helping Tina in arranging her home had mattered not an iota to Shelly but that was vintage Shelly—manipulative and callous.

  Now when Rozy phrased her question, Tina was forced to confront the issue of her album’s mysterious disappearance. And though she hated to admit it, she just couldn’t pinpoint when she’d seen her album last. She shook her head in bafflement.

  Rozy said at random, ‘Your pal Raghav is quite a dish.’

  ‘Hey, when did you meet him?’

  Rozy was embarrassed. She hadn’t meant to tell Tina that Jeet had moped so much after the first time he met Raghav, that she had sneaked across to Tina’s office to check him out—and had thought the guy rather good-looking. She stood up abruptly. ‘Listen, I’ll just go get Chintu from school and then we’ll all order burgers. My nerves are too fraught to put up with your cooking or mine.’

  The silence after Rozy left was even more depressing. Tina couldn’t figure out what the statement about Raghav implied. She felt like she was on a roller coaster, barely catching her breath before the next dizzying spin started. Gnawing her lower lip, she cast her mind about—it was quite jumbled up, comprising as it did, the album and Terry and Reggie. Then her phone rang. Tina reached out for her bag—she’d absently slipped in the mobile after speaking with Terry last night—and squinted at the screen. It showed ‘private number’ which left her clueless so she said a polite ‘hello’ into it, hoping it wasn’t intimation about the schedules being juggled around yet again.

  ‘You bitch,’ whispered the voice, ‘don’t think your luck will last forever. I’m coming to get you.’

  She tried to scream but her vocal cords were paralysed with fear. Who could she call for help? Rozy had gone out without her phone. She dialled Jeet’s number but the phone was unreachable. Raghav’s phone was busy. She couldn’t think straight; putting on her shoes, she picked up her bag to get away and go somewhere—anywhere. She opened the main door and there was a brown paper packet lying outside. With shaking hands she opened it. There was a dead bird inside and her high-heeled sandals of the previous day, cut to pieces.

  Her mobile beeped and it was a message from office asking her to come in at 9:30. She decided anything would be better than this sheer terror in her flat whose four walls seemed to be closing in on her. Without even changing into formal clothes, Tina rushed out to get the next bus. The door to her flat closed with a click as Tina pasted a yellow post-it note for Rozy. This time the unpleasant duo was not around but she still felt vulnerable, defenceless all the way to the bus stand.

  Rozy came back to Tina’s flat, almost dragging Chintu, who alternately wanted to kick a stone to kingdom come, or stare into the window of a video games shop. She was looking forward to some more chit-chat with Tina. They had been so busy—she with Barun and Chintu and Tina with her office—that they’d met up after ages. Though Rozy had never openly spoken to Jeet about Tina, she could gauge the depth of his feelings for her. He was morose whenever he didn’t meet her for a long time and hated to hear about the exciting time Tina had in office. He had just received an offer from a corporate bank and there was still a month to go before he joined, but he seemed vaguely dissatisfied with life, as though a big part was missing.

  At one time, Rozy had thought he was getting interested in Vani, Rozy’s classmate through school and college, and she couldn’t quite decide whether to be happy about it. Vani was both attractive and smart and wore elegant outfits that made her stand out in a crowd. She was an excellent hostess and at all the dinners her parents hosted, there was a dance floor and quirky games to keep everyone entertained. But Rozy, usually so easy-going, wondered how Vani would be as a homemaker. Would nothing be out of place and bric-a-brac of exquisite china or crystal make guests nervous about laughing out loud? For sure, that wouldn’t be the case with Tina. Her apartment was cosy and emanated warmth that was totally in sync with Tina’s personality. She was open-hearted and generous to a fault and such good fun with her jokes and her bubbly personality. When they were kids, Rozy had always tagged along with Tina and Jeet and they had great times together. Rozy often toyed with the idea of broaching the subject of the real relationship between them, but something held her back every time.

  Rozy pressed the doorbell and it rang shrilly inside. She then hammered on the door, just in case there was no electricity, quite forgetting the screeching echoes of a moment ago.

  ‘Mummy, don’t make so much noise,’ said Chintu reproachfully, with his fingers on his ears, but undeterred, Rozy shouted, ‘Tina’ almost as if Tina was some stone-deaf relative banging pots inside the house. There was still no response and she was debating her next move when she felt the hairs stand up on the nape of her neck. Turning around, she saw two oafish-looking men in black leather jackets and jeans standing very close behind. One of them was fingering a yellow note. They were reeking of some cheap after-shave and one sported a gold earring which made him look positively bizarre.

  The fellow in front said, ‘Tina-o-tina, who works in a call centre, lives here. You can find her only at night.’

  Gold earring chimed in. ‘Yes, we call her a call girl. If you like I can call you dream girl—I’m sure I’ll dream about you tonight, pretty lady.’ Then they laughed high-pitched demonic laughs, which made her blood run cold.

  Shaking with terror, Rozy backed away, holding Chintu firmly. She didn’t wait for the elevator, but ran down the stairs, all the time expecting to see booted feet chasing them down. Running out on to the road, she took out her cell phone and dialled Jeet’s number. As soon as he picked it up she burst into a torrent of speech, the words jumbled and hardly making sense…

  Jeet had been waiting impatiently outside the police headquarters for Ajay Menon to reach and was in a terrible mood. It was impossible to contact the guy. He didn’t pick up his cell or landline and was late to office. Though Jeet had said nothing to Tina, he was extremely worried. The whole thing didn’t add up to just a prankster. It was more like a stalker with a streak of viciousness and one who seemed to know far too much of Tina’s personal details. She’d tried weakly to convince him that she was in control, but he knew her better than she believed. Her dimpled smile had all but vanished and her face had a haunted expression in repose. When she thought no one was looking, she’d surreptitiously taken a kitchen knife which looked like it couldn’t even peel an apple, and slid it into her bedside drawer. The thought that the photo of her on her bike which he had clicked had been used to strike such fear in her, made his blood boil.

  Someone tapped him on the shoulder from behind. ‘Long time no see,’ said a familiar voice.

  ‘Hey Menon, how’ve you been?’ said Jeet, genuinely pleased to see the chap.

  ‘I’m sure you’ve not been pacing up and down to inquire about my health,’ said Ajay dryly.

  ‘Listen, do you have a minute? I desperately need your advice and maybe even help.’

 
‘Be my guest,’ he said and they walked across the lawn where a few straggling flowers were trying hard to enliven the gloomy day. A shadow crossed the sun and Jeet shivered as the breeze suddenly felt chilly. The police headquarters were full of people hurrying around and at intervals jeeps took off in a storm of dust or screeched to a halt.

  ‘Any special reason why the place looks like a beehive of activity, or is this business as usual?’ asked Jeet.

  ‘Well, I should loyally say that we’re always engaged in active policing and we strike terror in the hearts of wrong-doers, but I doubt you’ll fall for that. Actually, there’s a major rally tomorrow, and we’ve received information about a demonstration by some activists, so everyone is trying to make sure that when the blame game starts, they’ve filled in their reports about enough proactive measures.’

  ‘Sorry, I should have realised you’ll be up to your ears in work, but I felt I had to talk this over with you and then take it forward.’

  Ajay laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. ‘They want people to write reports, not those who believe in action. My current responsibility, my friend, is sorting out pension applications.’

  Jeet knew he should feel bad that a good guy had been sent out to grass, but he was actually relieved that Ajay had enough time on his hands for Tina. He narrated everything he knew and the Sub-Inspector listened in silence, his expression inscrutable.

  ‘Any jealous boyfriend or love triangle, or maybe a fling with a married guy?’ he asked.

  Jeet flushed with anger. ‘She’s not the type to play around, if that’s what you’re hinting.’

  ‘She wouldn’t tell you, would she, not unless you have a purely platonic relationship with her—which is also very boring, if you ask me.’

  ‘I didn’t ask for your expert comments on emotion and romance. Give me the answer straight and simple—should we worry about an obsessive admirer, or dismiss the matter as a harmless act by some silly prankster?’

  Ajay was more used to asking questions than answering them.

  ‘Nothing in policing is straight and rarely ever simple. We have to start with the surmise that something is wrong, so I’ll need to speak with her before I advise you further. There’s also the matter of jurisdiction. I’m not with any police station, so if it comes to filing a complaint, you’ll have to go to the concerned police officials, but we’ll come to that later.’

  Jeet’s phone rang. ‘Yes Rozy—what! Okay, I’ll tell the police. Calm down and take Chintu home.’

  He told Menon, ‘Rozy called about two guys outside Tina’s flat. They really scared her. Let me find Tina. She wasn’t in and—Hello, Tina, Rozy said you’re not at home—what! Someone called…left your sandals and a dead bird… Are you on the way to office?’

  Ajay Menon took the phone from him. ‘Ma’am, I’m a friend of Jeet’s. I want to talk to you, so go to office, but don’t share the recent incidents with anyone.’

  They looked at each other. Any doubts that Jeet had entertained about not being taken seriously by the SI were removed when he saw the frown on the latter’s face. It should have reassured him; on the contrary, it deepened his anxiety that the whole thing was blowing up into something terribly dangerous for Tina. Without a word, Ajay moved towards his motorcycle and indicated that they should hurry.

  Tina thought the ride to office would last forever. Her nerves were so taut, every sound made her jump. She’d stared unseeingly out of the bus window for a while, trying to have a preoccupied-withoffice-concerns appearance and constantly resisting the urge to spoil the effect by looking over her shoulder. Would she recognise the stalker, if he were following her? A cold finger of fear ran up her spine and she turned back suddenly to see an unshaven, scruffy character staring at her. Suppressing a shudder, she stared determinedly at him till he glanced away.

  The bus stopped and she stood up to get off. He did the same. She got down and walked off at a rapid pace, feeling slightly ridiculous about her over-reaction. She turned around to see where the man was and he was nowhere to be seen. Relieved, she let out a nervous laugh.

  Today, the office had a subdued air about it. Or maybe her frame of mind had been different yesterday. The bulk of the workforce had left for their training, so the spaces looked quite empty. Shelly was nowhere to be seen, though to be fair, it was only fifteen minutes past office time. Hers was usually a breathless entry, jangling bangles and all. Tina always found it amusing that someone who was so particular about leaving on the dot could be so casual about reaching in time, but perhaps these were twin traits.

  ‘I’m not usually so cynical,’ she murmured to herself as she set her bag on the workstation.

  The day passed uneventfully, and now it was dusk. There was a lull in the office. The seniors were having a meeting on security issues, as the negative publicity surrounding the attack on Ruby had almost cost the CEO his job. The police had found that the office cab had been stolen and the regular driver had been registering a complaint at the police station right at the time when Ruby was attacked by the rapists driving the stolen vehicle. Obviously, the perpetrators had planned it in such a way that the cab was a familiar one for the women executives, and they simply abandoned the vehicle later. It made Tina shiver to think of how terrified Ruby must have been. Even now she was on heavy medication, not so much for her injuries as for the trauma.

  Neil and Reggie were deep in conversation. Reggie was gesticulating as he spoke and Neil was listening with an air of concentration. It was an incongruous picture, like a role reversal. Had she never noticed their rapport or subconsciously ignored it because of her attraction to Raghav and intense dislike for Neil? She frowned in annoyance and Shelly who had sat down in the next chair, said, ‘Pretty good pals, aren’t they?’

  ‘How does it matter?’ shrugged Tina.

  Deepti, on her way out after the night shift, had joined them now and she added her bit. ‘I’m sure Reggie will get promoted as our senior process manager. He deserves it too, because he’s really well informed about technology.’

  Tina was just not in the mood for office grapevine about who was up and whose fortunes were down. She tried to detach herself with a noncommittal expression, but it seemed Deepti wasn’t going to be fobbed off.

  ‘Didn’t you and Reggie join around the same time, and in the same grade?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Tina, hoping her brusque tone would give the hint.

  Deepti persisted, ‘Then why haven’t you been kept in the loop about the adaptation of technology to office systems? I believe all calls automatically get routed through the desktop and all the conversation is logged in, and…’

  Tina interrupted, ‘Hey, all this technical stuff is above me. And Raghav really has an edge over me because he’s picked up hi-tech stuff from the research fellows in Future Insights. It really doesn’t matter to me. So don’t you worry. I’m happy with the way things are and I don’t care one bit for office politics.’

  Deepti sneered, ‘Always the model worker, aren’t you?’ and left.

  ‘You’ll soon find yourself at the bottom of the ladder,’ snapped Shelly venomously. ‘All your efforts to be the favourite on the work floor will end in a big zero.’

  ‘If this is a dog-eat-dog office, I’ll be happy to remain a vegetarian,’ said Tina with a slight smile, hoping the tension would ease.

  Without a reply, Shelly flounced off. Her mood changed like lightning as she joined the two men, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously at both.

  Neil held out a hand and as she took it, he raised it to his lips. They exchanged a smile and then both turned to look at Tina.

  SIXTEEN

  6 February

  Tushar Sen had woken up with a hangover. It made him feel terribly guilty because he was spending very little time with his family and even when home, was preoccupied with office matters. His wife, Neelima, had been a successful interior decorator till their twin daughters came along. But she was equally happy as a homemaker, content to take them to nur
sery school and allow them to do finger painting on the walls which she herself had artistically designed. He loved coming home to the noise of their prattle and going for long evening walks when the little ones had settled down for the night. Neelima’s voice was peppy, and her attitude light-hearted; even when reading out stock market information, her cheery style managed to infuse life into whatever she said.

  But interacting with Benoy had begun to take a toll on Tushar and he was on edge ever so often. Neelima always worried about his short temper, especially because the job was high pressure all the time, since security matters were a day and night responsibility. Here Tushar and Benoy had a vastly divergent approach. Tushar was keenly aware of the fact that the lower they kept their wages, the more the chances that untrained and often uncouth men would land up as security guards. Lack of manners wasn’t that bad—what was worrying was their attitude to the women executives at whom they thought they had a licence to ogle. There had been one nasty incident which unfortunately had involved Tushar and weakened his position. He had badly beaten up a security guard for trying to molest a lady executive who was in the parking lot alone.

  Benoy had intervened, pacified the man, and persuaded him not to report his severe injuries. In turn, the man was allowed to continue at his post. The girl resigned, saying she felt management was very casual about women’s security and had made no effort to punish the culprit. In fact, that was precisely what Benoy had done. He didn’t care about the fast turnover of executives. He needed a set of loyal people, completely beholden to him, and the incident with Tushar had given him one such handle. In one stroke, he had earned the gratitude of both Tushar and the guard—a pockmarked, slimy looking individual if ever there was one—and had covered up an ugly incident at the call centre. Neelima could see through his game and she constantly fretted that Benoy, devious and manipulative, would get Tushar into serious trouble some day. But there was no way Tushar could shake him off. He was obliged to him and afraid of him too, since Benoy had secretly recorded the whole fracas. If exposed, Tushar would never get a job in security management again and he had taken too many loans to manage for long without a high-paying job. He had taken to drinking heavily of late.