by Vish Dhamija
So she wasn't playing hard to get. Good. 'I'm drinking vodka.' Narang pulled out the drawer and took out the bottle.
'Come on Amit, don't be a hoarder. You're getting a new doll, at least open a new bottle.'
'You don't think I've mixed Rohypnol or some club drug in it...?' Narang pointed at the half-empty bottle he had in his hand.
'Oh no. Why would you do that when I'm here willingly?'
'What would you willingly do today?'
'Whatever you ask for.'
Narang replaced the bottle in the drawer and fetched two unopened ones. 'Smirnoff or Absolut?'
'Absolut.'
'Good choice.'
Anita smiled. You'll know that in a few minutes, you mother-fucking prick.
Narang freehandedly dispensed liberal portions of Absolut in two tumblers and looked at Anita with raised his eyebrows to check if it was enough.
'Enough for me. I have a tiddly liver.'
'You're petite too, I like that,' Narang said with a lecherous glee, his eyes meandering all over Anita's body.
'You should take twice the quantity you give me,' Anita uttered innocently. 'Why not?'
Narang poured another helping. His glass was almost one-half full now.' Cheers.' He raised his glass and took a sumptuous sip. Anita raised her glass to her lips, then kept it back and stood up suddenly, like she had remembered something.
'Is anything wrong?'
'Not at all, Amit.' She moved out of her chair and walked around the desk towards Narang. 'I just want to be close to you,' she said putting her hand on his chest. She unbuttoned the shirt and removed it. Next, she unbelted him, unzipped his trousers and slipped them from beneath him to let them drop to his ankles. 'Let's unleash the monster now.' She snapped the elastic of his underpants. The rutting moron raised his bottom and took off his briefs himself.
'My turn now.'
'Yes, of course. Strip me.'
She picked up his glass and raised it to his lips before he could get up. The pig guzzled; he wanted the drink to get over quickly for him to start uncovering his quarry. As he revolved on his chair to look at Anita, a faint dizziness enveloped him. He couldn’t work out why a little rotation on his usual office chair would cause that. He blinked a few times.
The last thing Amit Narang, the crowing media mogul, the CEO of NEWS of the DAY, saw was a blurring image of Anita. And it seemed to be evanescing from his vision, like she was being pulled back into some kind of an unlit tunnel. Then she faded completely. The hunter slumped buck naked in his chair.
Chloral Hydrate wasn't called knockout drops for nothing.
'There could be two assailants,' Rita briefed the inspectors as they ascended. They were passing the eighth floor now.
Another nine to go, their lungs were counting.
'Two of them?' someone asked. Rita wasn't sure whom, as she was ahead and the panting voice from behind was hardly discernible.
'There is a possibility Jay Desai and Anita might both be there. That's the reason I wanted four of us to go up. Four against two should be fine and ASP Rathore should be on his way soon with enough police if we need. I didn't want everyone to travel together on this narrow staircase, just in case...'
'What if there's no one at NEWS of the DAY office? What if they're somewhere else?' The speculation wasn't totally unreasonable. It was nearly twenty-four hours since
Jatin had last chatted with Anita on MSN. There had been no communication post that. There was every possibility Anita might have changed the location. If she had known about the break-in at her safe house, she surely would have. However, it had only been a few hours since police had stormed into her hut and there wasn't any way the news could have got to her, particularly if she had been planning this kill. Unless… No, Rita did not wish to go into the unless scenario. She trusted Jatin. 'You have a point, but the coincidence is too much to ignore. The location Nariman Point, as I said, has been chosen for N; the lifts have suddenly stopped at the seventeenth floor,' she elucidated as they passed the thirteenth floor.
Thoughts in her mind were, now, racing faster than her fatigued legs could carry her up the stairs. Why, if Anita was the killer, had she assayed to the police that the killer was a female? Was it that she deliberately made it so conspicuous that no one would believe it and only look for a male? Or was it that she acknowledged that the police would eventually get to the bottom of the pit and discover Jay Desai's nameplate, and when they did they might discredit him from being a suspect, as they were seeking a female?
They whisked by the fifteenth floor. 'What is her connection with Jay Desai?'
Once again Rita failed to distinguish who had spoken. The pants and gasps crescendoed with every floor. 'Don't know. She could be his sister or half-sister.'
'But Viviane had only one child —'
'That we know of, from the files,' Rita chiselled in. Sixteenth floor.
Rita looked at her watch. 9:09 p.m. They had been on the stairway for over ten minutes now, their bodies exhausted, their legs worn out. 'Stop,' she called. 'Let’s stop for a moment. Take a few deep breaths...breathe in, breathe out. Give your body some oxygen. It's only one floor now. As soon as we get there we split into two teams. I lead and Inspector Mathur provides cover. Inspector Patil leads and Inspector D’Souza provides him cover.
Understood?'
More rest, though desired, wasn't affordable.
'Move,' Rita ordered and ascended the last flight of stairs.
The foursome went through the double doors and made it to the vestibule that housed lifts on both sides and a glass entrance on the other end, which had a card reader terminal that provided access into the office. Handguns in positions, the teams gingerly moved. Rita marched forward, Mathur walked right behind her in reverse, his back touching her back guarding the double doors they had just walked through. They made it to the lifts. Rita got in. It didn't take her long to figure that someone had switched them off with a key. She got out immediately and walked to the lift opposite. Ditto.
'Call Inspector Anand on ground floor and ask him to send a couple of people up with the lift keys — the building security should have them,' she told Mathur. 'We're going in. Join us after you've messaged Anand.'
'Who'll cover you?' Vikram asked. 'Don't worry about me. Come on.'
Vikram withdrew the card he had been given by the building security personnel, from his pocket, and swiped it. A faint click announced the main doors had been unlocked. The trio walked in.
In the heightening tension of the moment, none remembered that they had locked one of their team members outside.
The faint click the police officers heard, at the entrance of the office, was amplified in Narang's office. Someone had entered the office. Who could it be at this hour?
'Expecting someone else, Casanova? Was I merely an appetiser?' Anita mocked the lifeless figure of Amit Narang. 'But what would you do now? I have plucked your dickie…’ She picked up the remote and switched on the television that relayed images from the main entrance. She recognised Chota Mathur. He was struggling to get in, gesturing with his arms, like he was trying to catch someone's attention, someone who was already inside the office. She dropped the remote, drew out the gun from her bag and swiftly tiptoed behind the door. If the police were inside, it wouldn’t be long before they found Narang’s office. But, how did they get here? This, she accepted, wasn’t the time to ponder; this was the time to act. She had to get out of this situation. She could think of the how-they-got-here later. There was no exit from Narang’s office.
She had to get out of here. Somehow.
Not aware of how many people were inside — armed or otherwise — Anita waited patiently. Maybe they’d not find anything and go away. It was unlikely though. The police must have figured out that the lifts had been sabotaged. That DCP wasn’t stupid, but where was she? Was she around? Fortunately, for Anita, the blinds were down, no one could peep in. Like an insidious wolf, she waited. She held her breath when she heard fo
otsteps approaching — muffled footsteps, like someone was being cautious. They sounded like a female’s. So, she was here. DCP Rita Ferreira was here.
Anita could, now, sense the presence of another human on the other side of the glass panel. She raised her gun, prepared to attack.
Rita tried looking through the gaps in the blinds. Only a desk lamp lighted Narang’s office, the soft light washing all over the room, but she couldn’t detect any movement. Maybe no one was inside, but she couldn’t hazard a risk. Her gun still in hand, she gently moved to the door and pressed the lever. It was unlocked. Should she bang the door open to rush in or should she tenderly slip in? Why hadn’t Mathur come for cover till now? Not desirous of losing time, she pushed the door and let it slowly open.
Rita was halfway through the length of the door when she saw Inspector Chota Mathur doing Bharatanatyam on the television. Whoever was in the office was aware of police presence, but it was too late to draw inferences. Anita sprang from behind the door and kicked Rita firmly behind her knee. Rita buckled momentarily, but her handgun flew out of her hand and landed on the other side of the desk. Rita’s gaze followed the gun to grasp Narang’s naked torso. She couldn’t see anything below the waist since the large desk hid it. ‘Shit.’
‘Welcome DCP.’ Anita waved her gun at Rita and kicked the door hard. It slammed shut. She stretched her spare hand to bolt it.
‘What do you want?’
‘Isn’t it obvious that I’ve already got what I wanted?’ Anita moved towards Narang's stiff.
‘You cannot escape. There is a brigade outside this office, under this building.’
‘Shut up DCP.’ Anita waved the gun again. ‘I am in control, not you.’
‘Why have you killed another innocent man?’ ‘Innocent? Really?’
‘Who are you?’ ‘Anita Raizada.’
‘I know that.’
‘Then why do you ask?’
The sound of footsteps outside revealed that the other police officers in the office had picked up the scent of action in Narang's office.
‘How are you related to Viviane Casey?’ ‘You are the detective. What do you think?' ‘Where is Jay Desai?’
‘Dead.’ Anita, eyes on Rita, gun pointed towards her prey put her two fingers in the horizontal blinds to expand the gap. ‘Two? Just two officers? You said there’s a brigade.’
‘Believe me. The rest will be here any minute.’
‘You could be dead any minute too, DCP.’
‘You won’t kill me. If you killed me, how would you get away?’ ‘Who said I wanted to get away? You make too many assumptions.’
‘Are you Jay Desai’s sister?’
‘Jay Desai did not have any siblings. Haven’t you investigated the case thoroughly?’ ‘So you’re not even related to Viviane Casey or Jay Desai? You expect me to believe you're some vigilante who took it upon herself to kill innocent men only because they paid for sex…?’
‘Only because?’ There was a knock on the door, a solid push on the lever. ‘Ask your guys to stop acting like children. Tell your misbehaved children to hold back, mama, will you?’
‘Is everything okay ma’am?’ It was Vikram's voice.
‘Yes, your mama is under my control inspector. If you act cute, you might need to arrange for her coffin, you get that?’
‘Vikram…hold back.’
‘That’s like a good girl, DCP.’
Rita comprehended calling the victims innocent incited Anita. It might give her more time to make Anita divulge what made her choose this path of destruction, to stall her from taking any hasty decision. ‘If you let me arrest you —‘
‘Fuck off, forget it. You’re not getting me. Get up…I want you to escort me to the roof terrace.’
‘How will you get away from there?’
‘Though that’s none of your business DCP, but if you do as I say, I promise I'll show you how I'll get away.' Anita gave a sinful smile.
Rita stood up, dusted her clothes a bit to buy time, to think. How could she outsmart someone with a loaded gun? She’d have to wait for an opportunity. What choices did she have?
‘You walk in front of me. And tell your guys to drop their guns. I don’t want to kill you, DCP. I don’t shoot women, but don’t give me a reason. I don’t care if I die later, but I’ll ensure I’ll kill you if anyone acts cute. I am serious.’ Rita nodded. ‘Now tell your children to get out of this office. We can see that all of them get out.’ Anita pointed towards the little screen.
‘Vikram, ask everyone to leave the premises.’
‘And stand outside the office till further instructions,’ Anita yelled.
ASP Rathore arrived, with his uniformed men, in the lobby. Mathur had given up any hope of ever getting into the office of NEWS of the DAY. He looked at ASP Rathore unhappily. He had failed to provide cover for Rita; he had missed all the action — if there had been any. The men looked at each other.
‘Should we break the lock?’ ‘How?’ asked Mathur. ‘Shoot the damn thing.' ‘That’ll make a lot of noise. ‘Who the fuck cares?’
Before they could arrive at any consensus, they saw Vikram coming towards the glass doors. He pressed the button and walked out.
‘Where is DCP Ferreira?’
‘The killer has taken her hostage. We don’t know the situation, but we were told to move away.’
‘And you left her alone?’
‘Not much choice. Anita wanted us out, ma’am told us to move out too.’
‘So what do we do?’
‘We wait. I take command of the situation.’
Vikram looked at Rathore. It was rank versus the unit. ASP Rathore was senior, but he understood it was a case that the crime branch was in charge of. This, certainly, wasn’t the time to lock horns at any rate. This was the time to unite brains and resources to get the DCP out and apprehend the killer who would be caught in the act. Taking DCP captive was a grave step; something even more sinister must have provoked it.
‘Agreed,’ Rathore voiced his agreement to spell out to his team.
‘Walk, honey.’ Anita gestured towards the door. ‘And remember, no smartness or I'll be forced to pull the trigger.’
Rita looked at her captor irately.
The duo walked out of Narang’s office unhurriedly. Anita, having seen the three police officers retreat, was still sceptical. What if any one of them had decided to stay back? She wasn’t definite how many had been in the office. ‘Stay,’ she said and looked around.
When she was sure there was no one around, she nudged Rita on her back with the gun. Rita started marching again. ‘Keep your hands over your head, honey.’
Rita did as she was told.
They could both see a convoy of police outside in the lobby through the glass doors. The men could observe inside too. They despised witnessing their DCP walking as a hostage and an entire army of police rendered impotent.
‘Now…would you be nice enough to tell your comrades to back off please?’ ‘How? They can’t hear me.’
‘Yes they can.’ Anita pointed at a receiver that hung on the wall next to the glass doors.
Rita picked it up. It was an announcement device. It conveyed the message spoken to the entire floor — inside and out of the doors — in case of any emergency. Anita knew the office, and its mechanics in detail. ‘Inspector Vikram Patil and ASP Rathore, please retreat to the stairway. Leave the lobby immediately.'
‘That’s an order,’ Anita prompted. ‘That’s an order.’
Theirs was not to reason why, theirs but to do and die - the entire force comprehended.
Rathore — surreptitiously happy that someone else had taken control of the situation that looked rather bleak now — looked at Senior Inspector Vikram Patil for direction; Vikram, either ambivalent of the ASP’s intentions, or that he didn’t care, signalled everyone to leave.
The parade marched out.
Vikram walked behind everyone else. As the double doors of the stairway closed, he kneeled to o
bserve through the tiny slit.
‘Now, we move. Anita patiently waited till the last man — Vikram — walked out of sight.
Same sequence: Rita, gun on her back, Anita following her. Both walked out of the glass door. Anita, fully alert that anyone could spring out — from nowhere or anywhere — on her, confidently walked behind the DCP. The two women walked into the lift car. Anita took out the key from her pocket and started the lift.
‘I bet you noticed that I used the key to stop the lifts, DCP?’ Rita didn’t utter anything.
Anita pressed the button. UP. Roof terrace.
As the two walked out of the cast iron door — Rita in front with a gun still aimed at her — Anita assayed to amend the error she had made on previous occasion. If she had locked the double door entrance to the lobby from the stairway on the seventeenth floor, she would have received a little more notice about the police arrival. Anita kicked the heavy door shut.
She fleetingly peeked back to locate the latch, to fasten it. Rita sensed her captor's distraction and standing erect in her position foxily stretched her right leg back and brought it behind Anita's right leg, ramming her shoe forcefully into the shorter girl's ankle. The jerk destabilised Anita, taking her by surprise. With one of her hand fastening the door latch, the other hand lost control of the Glock, which fell only a few feet away towards their left. Rita, conscious that the danger had been averted, strived to gain control of the weapon. Before she could leap, Anita grabbed her hair and yanked her backwards. Rita — taller and bigger — stretched her arm back and tugged on Anita's hair. Both lost balance. Rita fell face down on the ground, inches away from the gun; Anita fell on top of her. The arms outstretched to take the gun in possession. Anita had the advantage of being on the top, but she was also physically smaller than her opponent. Horizontal on the paved roof terrace, the fingers clawed on the ground, like crabs crawling, to reach what could provide life-threatening power over the other. For Anita, it was the looming fear of a life sentence, if not capital punishment; for Rita, she was certain that if Anita got hold of the gun yet again, this time around she wouldn’t spare her.
Rita, her arms a little longer, got to the metal, but instantaneously found Anita's nails digging deep between her fingers. Lord, Anita was some street-fighter. Five seconds later, they jointly had the custody of the gun. Rita, still under bantamweight Anita, attempted to raise herself on her elbows by pulling them forward and scratching them against the asphalt. The blood found tiny outlets as the skin tore. She wanted to turn, to squeeze Anita under her weight, but Anita carefully diverted the assault by letting Rita turn, but without losing her grip on the gun, she artfully manoeuvred herself on top of Rita, the two facing each other now.