The Benefit Season (23 page)

‘
We couldn’t find him’,
said a shamed Khosla to his daughter in the dressing room. ‘We
looked everywhere’.

‘
There was no need to look
papa. I knew he was going to quit- he told me just before the
ceremony. You always said he was a quitter and I never believed
you, but now …’ she erupted in sobs.

‘
Hey wait a minute’,
Arjun’s mom said sharply. ’There is no need to jump to conclusions
because my son is missing. Instead of worrying about him, you two
are whining about yourselves! We should be calling the police right
now!’

‘
I don’t think so mama’,
Aarti said.

‘
What do you
mean?’

‘
He came here earlier in
the day. To tell me that he’d quit his job and to ask whether I
still wanted to go through with this. He probably wanted to shift
the burden of guilt onto me, while he himself was
chicken.’

‘
No son of mine is
chicken…or mutton or any fish for that matter’! Mrs. Pasricha,
proud mom of one, fumed.

‘
He’s not coming back, of
that I’m sure. You can call the police or the army or the
President, and let them know what a fine son you have. I… I am
leaving! Papa, please make sure the guests don’t go hungry, and all
that food doesn’t go waste’, she said.

Khosla stood rooted to the spot, he wasn’t
one to give in to emotions easily, but the sight of his baby in
pain was too much for even a stiff father to bear. He strode
quickly across the room and clasped his daughter in a comforting
embrace. Mrs. Pasricha, who, feeling scorned had retreated sadly to
a corner, also couldn’t hold herself from hugging her too and
weeping. They remained like that for some time, united in grief,
plunged into despair, and left alone by the concerned guests. ‘We
must do something’, Mrs. Pasricha, the strongest, the most worried,
said finally.

Khosla nodded. It made no sense to make
assumptions- Arjun had never behaved irresponsibly in his life. And
he would have the courage to speak the truth, always. He began to
worry. ‘Let’s put up a brave front in front of the guests, at least
for now. Let them dine and leave. If we don’t hear from our boy by
morning, we’re going to the cops’, he said.

‘
Aarti doesn’t have to
face anyone- let her go home’, Mrs. Pasricha pleaded. Khosla agreed
and they quietly put her in a car and sent her home, and then
walked into the large hall to request the guests to move for
dinner. They vowed to keep it simple the next time, should the next
time ever happen.

The next day, by evening,
a wan looking Brig Khosla (Retired) and Mrs. Pasricha walked into
the Chanakyapuri PS to report the missing. The Station HQ at Delhi
backed the parents, and the case was promptly transferred to the
crime branch.
ϖ

Chapter
10

The Spy Who Came In From
Nowhere

A day later, when after filling their tiny
chests with fresh air, the songbirds had begun to chirp and whistle
and trill in full swing in their dawn chorus, the doorbell to the
Nagrath house chipped in by chiming happily, while the master of
the house, Vishal, with his face dipped in a bowl of ice to rid of
the puffiness of a wasted night, complained of too much noise.

He wished the visitor away, the birds
strangled and his head disconnected. Alas, all three stayed. There
being little he could do about the last two, he decided to tackle
the problem of the first, who seemed to have planted a thumb on his
private property, namely the doorbell, and forgotten about it.

When he swung open the door with the ice
water dripping down his face on his bare muscular chest, through
squinted eyes he could make out the blurred outlines of a woman, a
child- presumably her own- dangling precariously from her folded
arm, and a small man who was shuffling nervously as if impatient to
spring forth on orders.

‘
Hey look we don’t need a
maid. Go away’, Vishal said. He half shut the door when he changed
his mind. He searched his pajama’s pockets and on finding a
crumpled and ironed 100-Rupee note, he shoved it in the child’s
bib. ‘Here, git’, he said, and felt good. And he shut the
door.

He’d barely crossed the huge hall before the
bell began to chime again, insistently.

‘
What the hell’, he
muttered under his breath and pulled the door open again, ready to
scream at them to go find work somewhere else.

‘
Get…’ his voice trailed
as the woman held up a police badge under his nose. ‘Myself
Krishnamala Kadian. Agent 6: ACP, Crime Branch. This here is Agent
9’, she said pointing towards the shorty who was also holding up a
badge- not looking sure if it belonged to him. Only the badge was a
pacifier with “Mute Button” written on it.

‘
That’s a pacifier,
agent’; she scolded him. He hastily pocketed it and began to
rummage through his collection of Bonny’s baby mild soap bars,
belly bandits, nursing pads, nasal aspirators, nipples, brushes and
wooden teething toys in his search for the elusive police badge. He
wore a broad canvas belt to which were attached an assortment of
tools and gadgets necessary for providing immediate succor to a
demanding infant, such as a milk bottle, a juice bottle, a spare
bottle, a water bottle, a roll of diapers, burping kits, rations
and scrubs and brushes.

‘
Does the kid have a number
too?’
Vishal wanted to ask but he felt it
wouldn’t befit the somberness of their visage and swung the door
open for them to walk in.

‘
What do you want’, he
moaned, sinking in the lush sofa and burying his aching head in his
hands. He wondered what the crime branch could possibly want with
him.

‘
How about a photo to
start with?’

‘
Whose photo’, he asked,
groaning from the crash after a night of bingeing with coke and
drinks.

‘
How about the missing
person’s- to begin with’?

‘
Who is mi…oh’! He
muttered, bewildered. He looked around; he went all over the house
but couldn’t find her photo.

‘
I’ll send one across to
the police station later- they must have one in the office
somewhere’.

‘
Don’t you carry one in
your wallet’?

‘
Umm…not really. Not
enough space with all these cards these days.’

‘
There must be some
marriage albums…Facebook pictures…screensavers? There must be
something on the computer that you could take a printout
of?’

‘
She was an intensely
private person. She had virtually…no virtual presence.’

‘
What kind of a marriage
is this that you don’t have a single picture of your wife in the
house?’

‘
Wait! I must have her
passport! Would that do?’

The cop shrugged her shoulders, eyeing him
with a misgiving.

He disappeared inside his bedroom and
emerged after what seemed 10 minutes. But this time, he looked
calmer, far better composed and more confident. And he held in his
hand some pictures.

‘
Here, I found the
pictures- she’d kept them in her cupboard- never told me about
them’, he grinned, wiping his nose with the back of his hand and
sniffing. He suddenly seemed jubilant; his voice was hoarse and his
pupils dilated.

‘
She’s one helluva
looker’, the shawty said, looking over the woman’s
shoulders.

‘
Mind the baby…and change
his diapers’ she said curtly, handing the toddler over.

‘
But he’s clean’, answered
the midget.

‘
Are you going to wait for
him to get dirty before you clean him up’, she asked.

Overwhelmed by this simple logic, the elf
proceeded to give the rug-rat a change of costume.

‘
So were you two happy
together?’

‘
Sure, happy as can be’,
Vishal said, and nearly guffawed.

‘
You miss her?’

‘
Yeah’, he laughed. ‘Who
wouldn’t- I mean she was so smart…desirable to any man, with a
figure to kill for’.

Just then the Moroccan girl, Ruby, last seen
with Vishal in the yacht, walked sleepily into the sitting room-
stark naked. She ignored them, went into the kitchen, and came out
sipping from a bottle of Avian. As she was about to cross the
archway of the hall she paused. ’Could have sworn I heard a baby!’
she told Vishal, smirked, and went away.

‘
Then why would Monal
disappear- in the middle of her engagement party?’ Krishnamala
asked; casting a cutting glance at the pipsqueak who wanted to ask
who the nymph was.

‘
Can’t tell what’s going
on in people’s minds- can you?’

‘
She wasn’t people- she
was your wife!’

‘
Yes of course- there’s no
denying that fact. You know, the pressures of success, the
limelight… beating deadlines- it gets to you someday. Even though
we stayed in the same house- there would be days before we met- I
need to travel quite a bit in connection with the business- mostly
abroad’.

‘
Were there any
indicators…?’

‘
None that I saw… or
noticed’.

‘
Was there
love?’

‘
Yeah, sure, there was
love, as much as time allowed’.

‘
Any affairs?’

‘
In the corporate world,
men and women rub shoulders all day…and night. Accusations will
always fly thick and fast.’

‘
So there were
accusations- with whom?’

‘
Look…this is very
embarrassing for me…’

‘
Don’t worry- I understand
male pride’, Krishnamala said, looking fondly upon the pocket James
Bond crawling after the tiny tot on the Turkish rug.

Vishal began to shake. He covered his mouth
with trembling hands, and his eyes misted over. She leaned across
and patted Vishal’s tremulous hand. ’You can tell me’.

The comforting touch broke the dam of his
manly resolve and he flooded o’er with tears. ‘There’s this
bastard…he won’t let her be- vexing himself and her in his
shameless wooing. Pursuing her like game…like quarry to be hunted
down.’

‘
Who’s he?’

‘
Arjun- and to think
my
aye
was the
loudest when the partners voted on hiring him’.

‘
Was there any reason why
she drifted…I mean, did you give her any reason to
stray?’

‘
No no, not at all. Ask
anybody. I provided for her, I nourished and cherished her as my
own body’.

‘
What about the…’
Krishnamala gestured with her hands to mean the nude
Ruby.

‘
Oh her- she’s someone
from office…just staying over. She’s Monal’s friend actually – came
looking for her last night. She’ll be gone ‘ere long’.

‘
Does she roam the
house…like this…even when Monal is around?’

‘
I…I don’t know. I never
checked; I never woke up this early’, he tittered. ‘She’s
crazy…she’s African…still evolving you know…primitive’.

‘
Yeah I know. Anything
else you can help me with? Any relatives, friends, any place you
think she would have gone to or likely to contact?’

‘
No relatives here- I
think they’re all settled in Europe. No friends either’.

‘
Have you informed her
relatives…parents?’

‘
I don’t have their
contact numbers- Monal didn’t like to discuss them’.

‘
Funny. Do you mind if I
come around to the office and check this Arjun fellow
out?’

‘
Naah. Not at all. Ask
around.’

‘
Let’s move’, Krishnamala
ordered her companion, who was rolling with the infant on the floor
and giggling away. He raised himself with a pout and began to
gather the litter.

‘
Do you think anyone would
harm her?’

‘
Why would they? I can’t
think of anyone. She always minded her own business and confined
herself to strictly professional terms with everyone’.

‘
Did she gamble or drink
or …had any vices…?’

‘
Never- she was a top
order sportsperson. She had no weaknesses… except
perhaps...’

‘
Except…?’ Krishnamala
paused at the doorway.

‘
She was insatiable, you
know, had a tremendous sex drive. To be very frank I wasn’t up to
it most of the time given my work schedule’.

‘
Thanks’, Krishnamala
said, scanning Vishal carefully, and left.

ϖ

The agents and the baby next made a visit to
the agency where Monal and Arjun worked. It was a swanky glass and
matte, high-maintenance building; flat, impersonal and unwelcoming,
as good or bad as the rest in Vile Parle or Cuffe Parade or Nariman
Point. A small garden, the size of a billiards table, with
freakishly large palms that seemed to have grown somewhere else
appeared to be the only thing alive in its otherwise sterile
landscape. A small sign said it was out of bounds.

As they entered through
the large glass doors and pressed the lift button for the
7
^th
floor, for that was where the placard at the entrance said
the sports agency was, a security guard came running towards them,
waving his arms.

‘
Excuse me ma’am- no
babies’, he said, out of breath.