Murder in Bollywood (6 page)

‘I want you to tell me everything about the past that you told Chandu Mule, and it's absolutely essential that you don't hold anything back from me,' Hoshiyar demanded with some urgency.

‘And betray the oath for a second time? Never. I have already told you enough. If you're as good as what people say about you, then you'll have no problem figuring out the rest,' Shobhit said belligerently, then got up from his seat to leave.

‘Shobhit, wait, listen to me,' Hoshiyar called out, but the man dashed out of the confessional and made a bolt for the main door. By the time Hoshiyar came out after him, all he could see was the tail end of Shobhit's shadow as he disappeared into the night, even as his final words echoed through the church: ‘Loyalty is everything. Disloyalty is death.'

The following morning Hoshiyar met ACP Kashyap and told her about his meeting with Shobhit. They both agreed that if they were to investigate his claims regarding Nikhil's and Mallika's death, they would have to begin by investigating the murder of detective Mule, since considerable time had already elapsed between now and the passing away of the superstar couple, which meant that if they had been murdered, any trail leading to it would have long turned cold. But to undertake the Chandrakant Mule murder case was a near-impossible task for two reasons. Number one, the detective was killed a long way outside the SCS's jurisdiction, and even if the SCS got the permission to step into another state and launch an investigation, the chances of the Himachal Pradesh Police welcoming them with open arms were slim, as interstate police cooperation didn't really exist. Secondly, that particular winter was the worst that part of the country had seen close to a decade, leaving Shimla and its surrounding areas completely snowbound, meaning, no one could enter or leave until the weather settled down and the roads were cleared of snow. In fact, the situation was so bad that Mule's body couldn't be sent back to Mumbai, and the last rites had to be performed in Shimla itself, in the absence of his family, who had no way of getting there. So, taking all of this into account, ACP Kashyap and Inspector Khan reluctantly decided that the best course of action would be to keep the information given to them by Shobhit entirely a secret, and to tell Zagde to snoop around discreetly for any new leads or developments, on the basis of which they could investigate the Chandrakant Mule murder case effectively from Mumbai itself, or perhaps even have the Nikhil and Mallika case reopened. Another thing that they decided to do was dig up Mule's cellphone records, to see if he had called any local numbers during his visit to Shimla, and to determine if those calls could help them discover what he had been investigating. With this line of action chalked out, the two decision makers of the SCS returned to their daily duties. Hoshiyar briefed Zagde on the previous night's events and instructed him to pay a visit to Mule's detective agency after duty hours and see what he could find out. Then, at around eleven o'clock the same morning, a call came, informing the squad of a high-profile murder that had taken place in Gyan Darshan bungalow, located in the posh residential area of Juhu Vile Parle scheme, which required their immediate attention. The victim was a gentleman by the name of Ram Prasad Tiwari, the late superstar couple Nikhil's and Mallika's long-time secretary.

Now, as an area, North Mumbai's Juhu Vile Parle scheme, also known as JVPD scheme, was a strange mix of old money and new, and was made up of a labyrinth of lanes and by-lanes that sometimes connected and sometimes intersected each other. The area was famous because one of its residents was the Bollywood legend Amitabh Bachchan. But if one were to take the Big B out of the equation, then JVPD scheme was a run-of-the-mill spectacle, lined with unspectacular buildings and ostentatious bungalows, old and new, which were home to enterprising businessmen and many a diamond merchant, who were rumoured to be so clannish that it wasn't odd to hear of cases where members of one particular community were denied permission to buy homes in that neighbourhood, perhaps out of fear that their presence would somehow sully their culture and render impure their way of life. Or maybe, the residents did not let them enter their space on account of an intolerance for anything that went against their creed. Whatever the reason, it was both sad and shameful to hear of such a regressive mindset, particularly in the twenty-first century when Indian cities aspire to be the next Shanghai or New York.

But Hoshiyar wasn't concerned about JVPD scheme's alleged reputation, as he wasn't interested in buying a house in that locality. All he wanted to do was solve a murder. But on reaching Gyan Darshan bungalow at the corner of 10 Gulmohar Road, Hoshiyar and his team were surprised to find a large contingent of uniformed officers scattered about the place, and at the helm of that chaos was Commissioner Ghankar himself, who was standing near the bungalow's main gate, smiling like a Cheshire cat, as if to say he had the situation well under control.

‘Oh ho, if it isn't our Mumbai Police's super-istar here to grace us with his presence . . . Step aside everyone and start taking notes, for Senior Inspector Hoshiyar Khan is here, along with the Special Case Squad, to teach us how to solve a murder in five minutes,' Ghankar remarked sarcastically, as Hoshiyar alighted from his car and gave him the customary salute.

‘So tell me, Hoshiyar, how did your holiday go? And how was your brother-in-law's wedding? I heard it was very royal, very lavish, with a whole lot of biryanis and kebabs and kormas and halwas. The next time there is a wedding in your family, kindly invite this
garib kisan ka beta
also. I would also like to see how you super-rich maharaja types celebrate these grand occasions. But just keep a little dal and
sukha
pao, with
kanda
and
hari mirchi
, on the side for me, because that is all my humble stomach is used to, bhai,' Ghankar laughed and said, looking around at his men for approval, while Hoshiyar simply smiled and nodded in acknowledgement.

Just then, Meeta Kashyap's car pulled up outside the bungalow. She felt nauseated at the sight of Ghankar holding court a few feet away. But since he was her superior, she had no choice but to get down from her car and greet him with a ‘good morning, sir', to which he responded with a silliness that had become his trademark over the years. ‘And a very good morning to you too, Meeta. So tell me, where have you been? Long time, no see.'

‘Sir, we met just yesterday at your office,' Meeta replied awkwardly.

‘Oh! Ha, ha, ha! You see, I am forgetting, not because I am getting old, but because I am so very busy.' Ghankar laughed uproariously, in a feeble attempt to conceal his gaffe, even as all the policemen around appeared less amused and more embarrassed.

‘But you must be wondering what we are all doing standing here outside, instead of being at the crime scene inside, looking for clues,' Ghankar spoke once more. ‘It is because we have already examined the place and it's very clear that Ram Prasad Tiwari died because he slipped and fell in his bathroom, cracking his head against the tub, which makes it an accident, and not murder. But obviously, the cleaning lady who found the body this morning did not realize that and called us all down here for this false alarm. So, I am very sorry, Meeta, if by getting you here so early, I have ruined your beauty sleep in any way,' he concluded innocently, in an effort to mask the underlying sarcasm in those words.

‘No need to apologize, sir. Our job does not afford us the luxury of a beauty sleep, and this was something we were told at the academy. So, I was in my office at exactly nine-thirty, just like every day. But false alarm or not, since my squad and I are already here, we would like to examine the crime scene for ourselves if it's all right with you,' Meeta replied appropriately.

‘Fine, examine all you want. In fact, I will come with you myself so you can show me what I missed,' Ghankar said, pretending to be indifferent, but seething from inside, as he led Meeta into the bungalow, followed by Hoshiyar and a few select officers, one of them being Zagde, who had arrived on the scene with Hoshiyar, but preferred to stand by the jeep the whole time, wisely staying clear of Ghankar's radar. As the police team made its way past the living room and entered the deceased's bedroom, Meeta wisely took a back seat and let Hoshiyar take the lead. The room in question was a shocking contrast to the living room, for while the latter was done up sedately in hues of off-white, beige and brown, the bedroom was decorated in shades of pink, purple and red, right from the walls to the furniture, with a whole lot of film posters from the '40s to the present day, adorning every inch of that space. And in one corner, there was even a walk-in closet, much like a long corridor, which wasn't used as a wardrobe, but as a storage place for Bollywood memorabilia of all shapes and sizes, from costumes, to props, even get-ups and disguises. Just a few steps away from that chamber of fantasy was an open door, leading to a stark white bathroom, where the body of Ram Prasad Tiwari lay, lined with chalk, at the foot of the bathtub in nothing but a pure white bathrobe, with the red that gushed forth from the crushing of his skull providing the only break from the cold, bare monotony of white, until a sea of khaki surged forth and besieged him, studying his carcass minutely to determine if the reason for his end was foul play.

‘He was definitely one of those gay types, I have no doubt,' Ghankar proclaimed uncouthly.

‘And what makes you say that, sir?' Meeta asked, a trifle offended.

‘Well, can't you see the colours he's used in his bedroom. All these pinks and reds and whatnot. Real men don't use these pansy colours. This Tiwari fellow was definitely a homosexual and this room was his love nest, where he used to do
masti
every night with men just like himself. Dirty, filthy perverts, all of them! Ghankar exclaimed with genuine disgust.

Meeta, who was taken aback by her superior's blatant prejudice, couldn't help but remark, ‘I didn't know you had such hatred for homosexuals.'

To this, Ghankar shrugged and replied, ‘I don't like these gay types, because they don't like women.' He then threw back his head and laughed uproariously at his own tasteless words.

While everyone around the commissioner turned uncomfortable because of his boorishness, Hoshiyar remained unmoved, for he was too busy examining the body to pay attention to anything else, after which he walked out of the bathroom and began examining the bedroom and walk-in closet in great detail.

‘Arre o, Mister! What are you doing looking around the bedroom for? The body is here, not over there,' Ghankar called out.

‘Just making sure we haven't overlooked anything,' Hoshiyar calmly replied as he continued with what he was doing.

‘Explain to your officer, Meeta, that when the accident happened in the bathroom, there is no need to look anywhere else. And it is undoubtedly an accident, because when it happened last night between one and three o'clock, Tiwari was all alone at home, the servants had left for the day and the house was locked from the inside. We even questioned the bungalow's nightwatchman, who said that Tiwari returned home at around one, parked his car in the driveway and went straight into the house. Nobody came to meet him that night and there were no suspicious persons lurking about the neighbourhood either. Now, I know that Hoshiyar Khan is your most brilliant officer, who has solved many difficult cases,
lekin hum ne bhi kachchi goliyan nahin kheli hain
.' Ghankar smirked, driving home his point.

‘I think you are brilliant, Commissioner saheb, and you've solved this case expertly,' Hoshiyar spoke just then. ‘But since Mr Tiwari's employers, Nikhil and Mallika Kapoor, were also killed in accidents, the press might consider this too much of a coincidence and accuse us of sloppy investigation, or maybe even a cover-up. So, if you permit it, Commissioner saheb, I'd like us to investigate Mr Tiwari's death for about a week or so, just to make sure that we have tied up all the loose ends. The press then cannot undo the great work you, Commissioner saheb, have done on this case,' Hoshiyar told Ghankar, who was visibly flattered by those word of praise.

‘You know, Meeta, I like the way your officer thinks. He reminds me a lot of myself, when I was a brilliant young inspector, making my way to the top. That's why I have decided to give your squad one week to investigate this obvious accident and wrap it up nice and neat,' Ghankar replied magnanimously, then looked at his watch and said, ‘And now, I must be running along, as I have to join the honourable mayor saheb's son-in-law in a game of golf. I trust you and your Special Case Squad can handle this matter from here on, since I have already done all the work.'

With these words directed at Meeta, Commissioner Ghankar turned around and left the room, followed by his posse of policemen, leaving behind the body of the deceased and a handful of officers from the SCS to do as they pleased.

‘Do you mind telling me what that was all about?' Meeta turned to Hoshiyar and asked.

‘It's fairly obvious that Mr Tiwari is a victim of foul play. But if I had pointed this out to the commissioner in front of everybody, it would have hurt his ego and he might have taken us off the case. That's why I praised him for his bogus accident theory. It bought us one full week to investigate,' Hoshiyar explained.

‘And how can you be so sure that this man was murdered?' Meeta asked.

‘Take a look at the back of his neck,' Hoshiyar said, turning the body over and bringing to Meeta's attention a couple of dark bruises that were no more than an inch long, running parallel to each other a few inches apart, just a little below the base of the skull. ‘When a stun gun is held against a man's skin and more than eighty thousand volts of electricity is passed through his body, such burn marks are common. I reckon, someone who followed Mr Tiwari from where he was last night sneaked into his home, rendered him unconscious with a stun gun, then put him in a bathrobe and dragged him over to the bathtub where he or she banged his head against the tub and killed him, making it look like he slipped and hit his head,' Hoshiyar surmised.