The Benefit Season (25 page)

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Authors: Nidhi Singh

Tags: #cricket, #humor comedy, #romance sex, #erotic addiction white boss black secretary reluctant sexual activity in the workplace affair, #seduction and manipulation, #love adultery, #suspense action adult

BOOK: The Benefit Season
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I’m good. And
you?’


I’m fine. Nice
weather’.

Krishnamala looked at the homunculus in
exasperation. She motioned him to take the baby and handover the
phone.


Hello Aarti, this is DSP
Krishnamala from the Crime Branch’.


Nice meeting you too’,
Aarti said.


Nice… we want to speak to
Arjun. His boss Monal has gone missing and we are just talking to
everyone in their office’.


Monal is missing…what are
you saying? I thought you were looking for Arjun!’


You’re right – we are
looking for Arjun- to help us find Monal. There - so
simple’.


But I don’t know where
Arjun is!’


What do you
mean?’


I mean he’s missing. And
we’ve filed a police complaint in Delhi. I thought you were
investigating into his disappearance?’


What! Arjun is missing
too?’


Is Monal missing
too?’


Since when?’


I don’t know since when
Monal is missing’.


No, I am asking you about
Arjun’.


He disappeared from our
engagement!’


So you’re not
engaged?’


No’.


When was this, what
time?’


On the evening of
3
rd
Jan- just before the ceremony. He vanished from the hotel,
before all the guests’.


Strange! Monal went
missing around the same time!’


Do you
think…?’


Err…that’s what people
would have me believe. But it’s too early to say. What do you
think?’

There was a long silence at the other
end.


Hello…Aarti are you
there? What do you think happened? Are the missing’s
connected?’


He did say something
about harassment at work. He had quit the job - he was so upset. He
seemed unsure if he wanted to go through with the marriage at that
point since he had no money or work’.


Really? Harassment of the
… kind?’


I guess so’.


Hmm. Do you think Monal
had anything to do with his going missing?’


I don’t know…I don’t know
anything’, she started sniffing.


Don’t you worry, lady. We
might as well come over and discuss this. Where can we see
you?’


I stay with my aunt. I’ll
SMS the address. Come around by six’.


Fine’, said Krishnamala
and hung up.

The agents and the baby reached the aunt’s
house by six and after meeting Aarti and her aunt they decided that
the best thing would be to go to Delhi to unravel the
missing’s.

It was clear the two were still very much in
love and Aarti’s faith in Arjun was unshakeable. She believed he
would never have hurt her or his mother or embarrass them in front
of family and friends on purpose. She had known him since they were
toddlers and were apparently inseparable. Then where could Arjun
have gone? And where was Monal? Though finding Arjun was not on
Krishnamala’s brief at the moment, the two going missing at the
same time was too much of a coincidence.

Yet, the clues were too obvious, and the
suggestion that they may have eloped too simple and contrived. The
people they had spoken to at the office seemed convinced that
Arjun’s meteoric rise was due to Monal having taken a strong fancy
to this simple, straight boy from out of town. Lele and Lily, his
ex-roommates were sure that Aarti was too snobbish and cold for the
warm and generous Arjun. They weren’t surprised that Arjun had
walked away from the marriage in the nick of time. On many
occasions they said Aarti herself had been uncomfortable with Monal
touching Arjun a tad too inappropriately for a married woman.
Shikhandi was convinced Monal had walked out of a BDSM arrangement
gone awry. Kinky or not, it was not difficult to see that any
woman- when pushed- would have walked out of marriage with a man
like Vishal- cold, heartless, adulterous- and most probably on
drugs too.

That there were sparks between Monal and
Arjun- was undeniable too. Then there was the matter of the
showdown between Arjun and Vishal at Diu, and Monal being caught
semi-naked in Arjun’s room.

Could Monal- victim of domestic violence or
fed up of a libertine husband, or bored of kinky sex- have been
driven into the welcoming arms of Arjun- handsome, desirable,
bachelor, eager to impress, vulnerable and an impressionable young
man looking for an early promotion? Could Arjun tire of a lifelong
affair and seek novelty in a dangerous, forbidden liaison with a
married, classy woman with more tricks up her sleeve than he would
ever have known? But then he’d resigned, hadn’t he, so he couldn’t
have cared enough for materialistic gains. And something would have
driven him to quit the company- remorse, guilt, or harassment
perhaps? His resignation had not been accepted by the way; he
seemed to be a highly valued employee in the company- Tom- the
Asian head, seemed especially fond of this boy. Could Vishal have
put Arjun out of the way, out of jealousy, and Monal as well, to
punish her? But he didn’t seem the possessive type, or the type to
waste much time over a woman less in his life. Her place had been
promptly filled in. Would it suit him to suggest that the two had
gone missing together, on purpose, after planning? Why? How? How
was he able to afford such a lavish penthouse on his salary? What
was it between him and the Arab girl? The man was definitely up to
some mischief. He would certainly have to be watched.

Meanwhile there were the
department’s procedures to be followed, reports to be filed, and
the guys in Delhi to be contacted to link up the two cases. Back at
the branch, she called in the P.I. (Police Inspector) Investigation
and asked him to send out
Hue and Cry
notices
for both the missing persons. On
second thoughts she also put up an office note to announce a small
reward for any information in the case. She told the P.I. to tap
Vishal’s office and home for any ransom calls, although she really
didn’t expect any. She was sure Vishal wouldn’t pay up! She also
tossed their snaps on the desk and asked him to check if either of
them had travelled by air on the night of 3
rd
or
4
th
January or thereabouts.


What next’, Agent 9
asked, pouring a few drops from the baby’s milk bottle on the back
of his hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot to drink.


We wait’, Krishnamala
said, propping her feet up on her desk and rocking in her
standard-issue cane chair. Looking out the iron windows in her
turquoise-painted government office at the Arabian Sea beyond, she
tried to search for a motive but could find none, and soon fell
asleep while Agent 9 hummed a ditty to soothe the hungry
baby.

ϖ

It was late evening when the bell to the
Nagrath house chimed.

There were no birds in chorus this time as
after a hard day of chasing wayward worms and warbling sweet
ditties they had pulled up warm leaves and burrowed their heads
into their feathers and settled for the night. Vishal, who had just
pulled up a pouf and propped up his feet on it and taken a sip of
the Jack Daniels on the rocks, and was not expecting any visitors
at this hour, and was settling for the night, muttered irritatedly
to no one in particular, ‘who could it be?’

In the dimly lit lounge,
Ruby, his bare foot Moroccan girlfriend, wearing a sexy satin
blouse with low open back, a flowing skirt, jingling anklets and
bangles, and a hip scarf with tiny bells and coins, was
belly-dancing languorously for his pleasure alone, as he smacked
his lips and looked on appreciatively. Sonorous Arabic music with
strong repetitive base played in the background. With her long arms
raised at a 90
°
angle, a beatific smile quivering at her lips, her long
eyelashes fluttering, she was shimmying her belly and drawing 8’s
in the air with her full hips, as if in a trance before her
personal djinn at Kaaba.

He cursed as the bell rang again, this time
adamantly. He rose, wrapped his silk gown around his bare, muscular
torso, and walked to the door, mumbling under his breath about
camel-milk drinking desert bandits robbing decent folks of their
peace at odd hours.

Two thugs in black stood glowering at his
doorway.


They let you into this
building, did they?’ he said, recognizing them as messengers of
Chotta Shameel, his friend and bookie.


Is this how you welcome
your guests’, Shamim, the taller of the two visitors
asked.


Guests my foot! What are
you doing here?’


Boss was remembering you.
He said you had something that belonged to him and he wants you to
bring it in’.


Now? Don’t be silly. I
don’t keep that shit at home. I have it somewhere safe, tell him
not to worry. I’ll bring it around some time, okay? Bye then’,
Vishal said, beginning to sweat a little, shutting the door on
them.

Shamim wedged his foot in the door and
shoved it in- the door hit Vishal on his forehead.


Ouch!’ Vishal said,
grimacing, ‘take it easy’!


Boss doesn’t like doors
being shut in his boys’ faces’, Shamim said, and the men walked in
and kicked the door shut. They walked into the lounge and halted on
seeing Ruby, who was completely oblivious to her surroundings now
with her half-shut eyes, and carrying on with the swatting of the
imaginary flies with her quivering hips.


Friend of yours’, Chotta
Rahim, the other visitor asked, leering at the skimpily dressed,
voluptuous foreign beauty.


What do you want? I told
you I don’t have it here. I’ll bring it to him later’, Vishal
pleaded, standing before them.


Come and tell him
yourself then’, Shamim replied.


You can see I have a
guest- I can’t come now. We’re friends- don’t treat me like
this!’


If you don’t come along,
he said to bring a body part. And you can always bring her along-
we all could do with a break’, Rahim said, wiping his mouth on his
sleeve.


What!’ Vishal’s drink
shook in his hand.


What do you say, madam?’
Rahim turned to Ruby, annoyed at not getting her attention. He
switched off the music and said,’ want to do that on my
lap?’

Ruby finally stopped circling her hips. She
lowered her arms, wiped off her smile, and after fluttering her
eyelashes, looked coolly at him. ‘Listen vomit-bag, don’t you madam
me! You want to take your boy out for a walk, go walk him. But stop
polluting the air around me, okay?’ She walked across to the deck
and switched the music on again and continued her dance.


Who’s she’, Shamim turned
cautiously to Vishal, not daring to take it further with the
unruffled girl. Crooks have a way of knowing when they can’t push
someone.


Let her be- she’s not in
your league’, Vishal said.

Shamim shrugged his shoulders and raised his
brows; ‘am is supposed to care a fuck?’


She’s the sheik’s
daughter- the guy who owns the yacht on which you were sweeping up
your boss’s vomit. You remember now?’


But that guy was from the
UAE’.


So? Can’t he produce
children in Africa, or here in Mumbai? For all you know he might be
your pop!’

Shamim moved menacingly toward him and swung
a fist. Vishal stepped back, let him lose balance and then punched
him in the ribs, taking his air out. When the gangsta turned,
Vishal socked him on the side of his jaw, knocking him flat to the
wooden floor. ‘Any time pal, you’re welcome’.

Rahim moved in quickly between the two and
pulled out a snub-nosed automatic. ’Enough, you two’, he shouted,’
time to go home’. He helped Shamim to his feet and nudging Vishal
out, he followed them out of the house.


Don’t you spoil his
pretty face’, Ruby shouted after the men as they waited in the
corridor for the lift, and laughed as she banged the
door.

The men reached Chotta Shameel’s sprawling
seaside mansion an hour later. It had been a surly ride; one man
massaging his hurting jaw, and another worrying for what lay before
him. Chotta Shameel enjoyed a nasty reputation for torture when
cheated or betrayed, but Vishal was his friend, and friends didn’t
do such things to each other. Normally he put a rat on your stomach
and then covered it with a metal container. Then he raised the
temperature of the container by heating it with a flame, making the
rat uncomfortable and desperate to escape. And it escaped by
burrowing through your stomach to the shortest way out. But Vishal
was confident of smooth-talking his way back to the house in under
a couple of minutes, or perhaps a couple of drinks later, and get
back to carrying on with the private screening of Ruby’s belly
dance where they’d abruptly and rudely been interrupted.

Shameel welcomed him with open arms and the
usual warm embrace. After serving him a Gold Label on the rocks,
they settled down on the plush Italian sofa. A man in flowing robes
brought them piping hot mutton kebabs, and then disappeared after
they’d helped themselves liberally. Shameel waited as a hungry
Vishal finished the delicious snacks clean off his plate.

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