Seduced by Murder (17 page)

“Vishal Bajaj is in his mid-thirties, is an irascible bastard who opted for voluntary retirement from the Indian Army a couple of years ago. His agency is called Hunt Detective Agency.

“The reason for his involvement in the case can be attributed to the excellent relationship he shares with an esteemed police officer, Inspector Babu. Babu recommended Vishal to Mr Paras Kapoor, and he was hired for the case.”

“The police themselves recommended him? Wow, he’s got good connections! Is he married, or single? Any other famous case he’s worked on?”

“He’s recently been married for the third time. Tell you what. I will arrange a meeting with him for you, and you can talk to him directly.”

“Really? Promise?”

I shrugged.

“Sure.” Anything to get you off my back.

“You are such a sweetheart.”

“I know.”

Our drinks came, and she waited until I had taken a sip of my Tangy Mint. She looked at me nervously, like a young bride waiting for her husband to comment on the first dish she had prepared.

Tangy Mint was a vile green, sickeningly sweet drink. It was the drink for man-eating, putrid aliens. She was staring at me, so I swallowed the liquid, smiled, and nodded.

“You were right. This does make me feel out of the world.”

She cheered up instantly. “Well, I guess the picture should suffice for today. When can you get back to me with a date for the meeting?”

“Soon …. So what are you to going to write about in your article?”

She looked at me. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Sure.”

“Well, we have an informer. There is a rumour … you can’t tell anyone about this, okay? The rumour is that that someone from the family is the murderer.”

“What! Who?”

“You should know. Your boss was the one who found the first few clues.”

“Really? He never tells me anything. What else?”

“Well, that is pure speculation from our side. But we will, of course, mention in the article that the suspect is an insider; write about the strained relationship between the brothers, generally mention the inheritance angle, and end the article there, leaving the rest to people’s imagination.”

“Dirty!”

“Yes, I know. I hate this shit. But I have no option. Jobs are scarce, and I need the money. I really do.”

I believed her.

“So you would touch upon the inheritance angle, and indicate that one of the brothers could be responsible for the murder. But what about the Page 3 stuff you were telling me about in the car?”

She drew her chair closer to me.

“Well, there is a matter of sexual deviancy involved. That’s the fodder for my next article. I can only tell you this right now.”

“Sexual deviancy? How do you know that?”

“I got an anonymous call from an informer. He is the one passing me the information. I can’t tell you more,” she pleaded.

I didn’t press the matter further. She was probably referring to Anil’s homosexuality. I would have to warn Paras about this. Maybe he could pull some strings and tone the article down.

I said with a straight face, “I am only surprised that a publication as reputed as yours responds to anonymous phone calls.”

She smiled triumphantly.

“I checked with Inspector Babu. He’s in charge of this case. As soon as the informer called me, I spoke to Babu, telling him that we knew that the murderer was from the family.”

“What did he say?”

“His first sentence was, ‘How did you find out?’ Then he tried to deny it. I pressed him till he gave me an affirmation. After that we became fast buddies. He is cute.”

I silently cursed the imbecile. Even if he was not the informer, he had played his part in leaking the information to the media.

The waiter came to take our order for the main course. I had barely picked up the menu when she prompted, “Do you want me to order, since you are new here?”

“Sure. That would be out of the world.” We had a chatty lunch that lasted more than an hour. She chatted and I listened. I dropped her back to the Scooty, and promised to expedite the meeting with my boss. I tried to reach Vimal on his phone, but my call went unanswered. The only other number I had was Aditi’s.

Sunil picked up the phone. “Hi, Vishal. Aditi is busy. Can I take a message?”

“That’s all right. Just wanted to inform you that
Crime Busters
is doing an article on your brother’s murder. We can’t do much about it, but I think they might publish something about Anil’s sexual preferences. Just wanted to update your dad, so that he can pull some strings, if possible, and keep it from being published.”

“The bastards! Any idea who is working on the story?”

“A journalist called Anjali Singh.”

“Thanks again. I appreciate your kindness. Aditi has come. Do you want to talk to her?”

“Nope. That … “My battery went kaput. I reminded myself to buy that car-charger.

It was almost four in the evening, and there was not one drop of alcohol in my body. Except for the vodka shots I had taken in Shalini’s room. Vodka couldn’t be counted as booze. It was milk for a grown-up man. I drove towards office.

A
arti was in a bad mood when I reached office. She pounced on me.

“Boss! Why don’t you ever charge your phone?”

“My eye feels just fine; thank you for asking.”

“Oh … how’s your eye?”

“Is Pranay here?”

“Yeah. He’s been reading comic books since morning! I told him to talk to Mrs Singh for the remainder fee. He hasn’t.”

“Thank god for that! You should know better than to provoke Pranay into talking to clients!”

I marched into my cabin, and found Pranay asleep on my chair, with a comic book over his face. I took the comic book off his face and shook him awake.

“Good nap, Batman?”

“Yes, thanks.” He stretched and got up.

I picked up an envelope that had arrived by courier, and tore it open. It was my retainer cheque for the Kapoor case. I handed the cheque to Aarti, and told her to deposit it first thing the next day. She saw the amount on cheque and cheered visibly.

“He’s paid the entire fee in advance?”

“This is just the retainer, baby.”

She looked at me in disbelief. “No kidding?”

“I never jest when it comes to money.”

“That’s almost double the usual retainer!”

“There’s more where that came from, if I am able to locate some missing cash. So let me get to work.”

I opened the drawer and took out a steel flask. I poured some whisky into it, and vowed never to make the mistake of leaving the office without it. Aarti exited my cabin, holding the cheque delicately in her hands. Pranay poured himself some rum, and emptied a packet of wafers into a big yellow bowl. He went to the fridge, and got out some ice cubes. I loved it when he displayed efficiency at work.

I walked over to the window and sat on the sill, looking at the busy scene below. I took a sip of the whisky and let it caress my tongue. Traffic seemed to be moving in slow motion, and the clamorous honking from vehicles drowned every other sound in the street. A dirty woman was carrying a malnourished child, and begging for change. Two street dogs were fighting. A formally-dressed man was talking on the phone, while eating what looked like a patty. Couples and children walked on the pavement. The whisky was still caressing my tongue when the phone rang. I gulped it down reluctantly and walked to the table.

“Hello, this is Vishal.”

“Hello. I saw Shalini throw the locket. She threw it out of the back gate.”

It was a woman. Husky and accented. There were three women who were present at the farmhouse. This was definitely not Aditi’s voice, and Shalini would not call me to testify against herself.

“Who is this?”

“She threw it out, when you and the police had left.”

“Reena?”

She disconnected the phone. I redialled the number. It rang a million times before someone answered.

“Hello?” a gruff male voice greeted me.

“Hi. I got a call from this number.”

“This is a public phone booth.”

“Where?”

“Lamington Road. Next to Thomas Bakery.”

“Okay. I got a call from this number a minute ago.

Did you see a woman leave?”

“This is a local line. You can put in a rupee coin and dial the number. I don’t have time to waste, observing who comes in.”

“Fair enough. Can you ask someone else in the vicinity if they noticed a female leaving a few minutes ago?”

“Are you from the police?” he asked cautiously.

“No.”

“Then fuck you.”

He hung up.

I dialled the Kapoors’ landline. Sunil picked up the phone. I disconnected, and dialled again after two minutes. This time Ram picked up.

“Ram, this is Vishal. Is Reena at home?”

“Ah, no, sir. The guests just left an hour ago. Paras sir insisted that everyone go out and get some fresh air. Reena madam has gone to the club.”

“Which club?”

“Oasis Club. She plays tennis there.”

“Thanks.”

The Oasis Club was the most prominent club in the city on Chancery Street, which was parallel to Lamington Road. Evidently, Reena was not even trying to cover her tracks. That could mean one of two things: either she was genuinely dumb, or incredibly innocent. What bothered me was the manner in which she had spoken on the phone. It was almost as if she were speaking under pressure, waiting to get it over and done with.

Nevertheless, if Reena was willing to testify as an eyewitness, there was no need to wait. We would have to arrest Shalini and Rajesh right away. The only thing that bothered me was why Reena had decided to call me all of a sudden. Maybe she felt guilty, and was genuinely trying to help. She was definitely not trying to hide anything.

Half an hour later, I was negotiating an entry for Pranay and myself with the security guard at Oasis Club.

I said patiently, “Yes, Ms Reena Kapoor. Please check. We are her guests.”

“She did not mention she was expecting any guests.”

Oasis Club was strictly elitist. Entry only for the members, or guests accompanied by members.

“She must have forgotten. You must surely be aware of the tragedy that has befallen the Kapoor family. Besides, how would I know that she was here, if she had not personally invited me?”

“Sorry, sir. Maybe you should call her and tell her to send someone to the reception confirming this.”

“She is playing tennis right now! This is very insulting. I will complain about your lack of civility to Mrs Kapoor. What is your name?” I began reversing the car.

He looked confused, and came running towards the vehicle.

“Sir,” said the guard sounding worried, “She has not even paid the entry fee for guests.”

“She told me to pay for it. How much is it?”

“Well … it is five thousand rupees per head, sir.”

I did not register any emotion as I handed him a credit card, and he swiped it. Besides me, Pranay clucked his tongue saying, “They better throw a complimentary Thai massage for this kind of fee.”

As the guard made the receipt, he blabbered, “I am sorry, sir. It is on the orders of Mr Paras Kapoor that we are strict about the rules here.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“He is one of the club’s committee members, and is very strict.”

“Okay. I will recommend you to him. Good job.”

I took my card back, and debated whether to tip him or not. In the end, I decided against it. He was probably earning more than me anyway.

I parked my car amidst a horde of Mercedes, Audis, and other shiny cars that I had seen in
The Fast and the Furious
. I walked towards the signboard in the middle of the parking lot. The tennis court was behind the card room, which was next to the library.

The card room was the last building on the plot. We had to enter it, walk to the end of the passage, and walk down a few steps to reach the tennis courts. The deserted courts were filled with water from the rain over the last two days. This was definitely not conducive for a game of tennis. I thought I heard a woman laugh. An L-shaped plot housed the courts.
Pranay and I walked through the puddles to reach the elbow of the plot and stopped.

In a secluded corner, Reena was sitting on a bench with a tall man. They had their backs towards me. They leaned against each other, as if conspiring together. With no shrubbery to hide behind, we couldn’t risk standing where we could easily be seen.

The wall of the building that harboured the card room ran parallel to the L-shaped plot. There were two windows in the card room that could give us a good view of the bench, if they were open. We retraced our steps, and entered the card room. There were only a few old people there. I walked to the window at the end of the room. An old man, with a set of cards in his hands, looked at me suspiciously. I tiptoed to the window next to him. He brought his cards close to his chest and shot a warning glance. I smiled at him, shook my head to tell him that I was not interested in his cards, and pointed at the window.

The window hadn’t been opened for decades, and I struggled for a few minutes trying to push it open. There was a thud as the window opened, and dust flew in all directions. The old man started coughing. I looked at him apologetically. He brought the cards close to his chest again, and scowled at me. I turned my back to him and stared at the bench. I could see Reena and her companion clearly now. Both of them were dressed in sports wear—T-shirts and shorts for him, a skirt for her; and sports shoes.