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Authors: Saurbh Katyal

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BOOK: Seduced by Murder
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“No, you are not,” I lied.

She looked into my eyes, searching my soul. “I believe you.”

Seconds later we were kissing. It was the first time I had touched a woman, and my technique was awkward. She took the lead, drawing me to her. My fingers trembled as I lifted her T-shirt and brushed my lips against her nipples. She moaned and bit her lower lip.

The scene changed, and I was alone on the hill. I turned and saw Chetan, his arms outstretched. Blood was trickling from his slashed wrists. He had the wide grin of a madman. I followed his gaze, and saw Sunil and Aditi standing in front of me, holding hands, smiling down at me derisively.

I woke up drenched in sweat. I got up, went to the refrigerator, and drank a litre of water. It was nine in the morning, and Pranay was still asleep. I didn’t have the zeal to go to office. With consciousness creeping in, I felt a sense
of destitution. It was one of those hopeless moments when your life hangs precariously from the edge, and it can only be saved if you are able to conjure up a reason for your existence.

I sought mental inactivity in the comfort of my bed, and tried to go back to sleep. I lay on the bed staring at the empty walls. The thing about lying in bed and staring at the wall is that you gravitate towards past memories. Again and again I felt the emotion which I loathed – self pity. Like a vulnerable puppy shivering in the rain. Like the one she had helped that damp night.

We were on a bike, getting drenched in the rain, ecstatic with our new-found understanding of each other. Aditi had her arms wrapped around my waist, leaning forward so that her face rested on my shoulder. I was totally soaked, as I zipped the bike on the long and empty road, but her soft breath on my neck kept my spirits warm. Her nipples were taut, pressing hard against my back through the thin fabric of her blouse. I felt content and carefree. The sky was being challenged by stray streaks of lightning that reflected my own spirit that night.

We stopped at a dhaba on the highway to have tea. A newborn puppy was shivering uncontrollably in the downpour, snuggling against a newspaper. She wanted it. When Aditi wanted something, it was a challenge that invoked your machismo. The owner of the dhaba gave me a silly smile as I traded my leather jacket for the stray puppy. We got back to college, and she was ecstatic with the dog. Then she got bored with the responsibility of feeding it thrice a day. She had dumped it in a month. I should have learnt my lesson from that.

I groaned, and pinched myself to come back to the present. I had spent three years immuring myself against her. One glimpse of her couldn’t pull me back into the labyrinth of past memories. I got up from bed and thought of calling Kalpana. She was a thirty-year-old divorcee, who would do anything to please me. Kalpana and I had a great relationship. Our relationship had the passion of lovers, and the comfort of two people who know that it is only about sex.

That was before she started pestering me for commitment and insisted on moving in my apartment with me. That too with her cat. It turned ugly when I broke up with her two months ago. I had decided never to call her again. Yet, I felt tempted to call her. Anything to get out of this sudden abyss.

I imagined Kalpana naked, with her ivory smooth skin, enticing breasts, and shapely legs. Junior stirred into action, demanding her presence. Sex, the greatest panacea for loneliness, albeit temporary.

I was dialling Kalpana”s number when the phone rang. It was Aditi.

“Morning.”

“Hi. How are you?” she asked politely.

“Good. How are you?”

“Well, still recovering. You created quite an impact yesterday. We are still coming to terms with what you discovered. “

“Yeah, I can imagine it was unpleasant.”

“Kind of. Dad wants you on the case as soon as possible.”

“Dad?”

“My father-in-law. I call him Dad. He is quite impressed with your deductive abilities.”

“He’s a gracious man.”

“Actually, no. He is a hard man to please. So … you have some paperwork for us?”

“Yes. A basic agreement.”

“Can I sign the agreement?”

“Sure. You are the client.”

“Great. How do we go about it?”

“My colleague Pranay will bring the hard copy of the document for you to review, and if everything seems fine, sign it and hand it back to him.”

I forced myself to say, “Along with the retainer cheque.”

“Oh …”

She sounded disappointed.

“The retainer is negotiable,” I added quickly.

“Silly, I am not worried about your fee. I was wondering if you could come instead of your colleague; maybe meet me outside somewhere. There are a lot of guests here today, and we would not be able to … discuss things freely.”

I could think of a thousand reasons why I should say no. Instead I said, “Sure.”

“Great! What time will you come?” she asked enthusiastically.

“Let me call you back and confirm.”

“Okay. Choose a place near my house. I can leave the house for an hour at the most.”

“Okay. Let me call you back in ten minutes and confirm the place.”

“Okay. Will wait for your call,” she said in a voice that seemed filled with eagerness.

I hung up. Junior had gone flaccid, receding into its shell with shame and remorse at the sound of Aditi’s voice. I sighed. “Developing a conscience, are we?”

The monologue wasn’t getting me anywhere. There was not going to be any relief today.

I reached the place at eleven. I had chosen a quaint and modest coffee shop that was run by an Iranian named Ali. He served the best chocolate desserts in town. I knew the regard Aditi had for chocolate. She had sent me a text message, informing me that she was running half an hour late. Punctuality had never been her strong point. I walked across rows of tables, to the counter.

Ali saw me and opened his arms in a mock hug. “Vishal! Long time. You forget your friend.”

I sat at a table close to a window and was soon lost in memories of the past.

My reverie broke as I saw a chauffeured Mercedes stop in front of the bakery. Aditi got out of the Mercedes. She was dressed in white. Hers was a graceful walk, and I tried not to stare. The young teenager sitting in the corner elbowed his companion, who whistled softly when Aditi entered the shop.

“Hi,” she said, and leaned forward as if expecting an embrace. I stood stiffly and extended my hand.

She shook my hand and grinned. “So it’s going to be like that, huh?”

“Uh-huh.”

We walked to a table in a secluded corner. “Please sit,” I said courteously.

“How have you been?” she asked, putting her Armani sunglasses on the table.

A waiter approached us. I looked at her and enquired, “Chocolate mousse with coffee?”

She nodded, and smiled. “You remember!”

There was a pregnant silence for a few seconds.

“You created quite a stir yesterday. We all are shocked with the possibility that someone … you know … from the house ….”

“What’s the reaction?”

“It’s still not sunk in … the fact that the murderer could be someone Anil knew.”

“Yeah, I can imagine the shock although I must confess that the family is taking the murder quite well. Very resilient in conquering grief.”

She raised her left eyebrow. “And is that a bad thing?”

“No. Just an observation.”

“Oh? What have you observed?”

“That his wife and his brothers were not very attached to him. And vice versa probably.”

She smiled. “You are good. Yes. Let us say he was the black sheep of the family.”

“Black enough for someone to butcher him?”

She brought her hand to her lips in a subconscious gesture, and averted her eyes before replying.

“I won’t bullshit you. Anil rubbed many people the wrong way. He was a spineless spoilt brat. But I can think of no one who would kill him.”

“And yet someone did.”

“You suspect someone?” she asked, anticipation evident in her voice.

I had found Shalini’s behaviour suspicious, but Aditi didn’t have to know that.

“Of course not! It is too early. That would be speculation.”

She sighed. “I am here only for half an hour. Let’s not talk about the murder now.”

“Then what should we talk about?”

“You know … things in general. How have you been? What’s new in your life?”

I smiled and pushed the copy of the agreement towards her. It was a three-page document, printed on my agency’s letterhead that used an obnoxious font, and sported a silly logo, chosen by Pranay.

She made no effort to pick up the agreement, so I said, “You only have half an hour. The agreement will take some time to read. Please pay special attention to clauses 4 and 5. You have to sign each page.”

She took the agreement and signed each page with a flourish. She did not bother to read even a single word. She pushed it back to me.

“There, we are done with that. Dad will have the cheque sent to your office tomorrow. I assume the amount is mentioned in the draft?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Good. Now that we have that out of the way, tell me about yourself. Three years. Any girl in your life?”

“Many.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Is it? So when are you getting married?”

“I will send you a card.”

She smiled coldly. “Hmm … I am happy for you. Good, good. You should settle down.”

“Yeah, I should,” I replied curtly.

“Are you serious about anyone at present?” she persisted.

“Nope,” I said truthfully. It would have been futile to lie, as she would have read the truth on my face instantly. I wished she would stop probing. While I courted her, she used to keep a tab on every movement of mine.

Her eyes glistened with grief. “I hope it is not due to me.”

I looked in those sympathetic yet conniving eyes. I knew there was nothing genuine about her guilt. She wanted to reassure herself by establishing that I hadn’t got over her. I wondered why I had agreed to meet her. The answer came back promptly. I wanted to relive the past. Meet her alone, just like the old times. Coffee and conversation.

She read my thoughts.

“Coffee, you, and me. Just like the old times. I can’t believe that three years have passed us by. It seems like yesterday.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. You couldn’t have grown your hair by four inches, put on weight, and bought a Mercedes in twenty-four hours.”

She smiled thoughtfully. “Yes, that is correct. I couldn’t have done all that in a day.”

I realised that even after three years, her smile could interfere with my breathing. She sensed my mood, and her smile was replaced by a serious, penetrating look. I was transfixed, and made no attempt to break the eye contact. There was the same intense attraction that had possessed me then. It was happening again – the flame and the moth story. And like the moth, I would always be drawn to the flame, even if it threatened to destroy me.

I forced myself to think about the day when she had told me that she was confused, that she loved both Sunil and me. It worked, and I looked away in disgust. The waiter placed the mousse and coffee on the table.

She took a bite. “Delicious!” She dropped a few crumbs on her shirt, and grinned sheepishly at me.

“So, when are you and Sunil starting a family?”

Her liquid black eyes became sad. “Oh, we are not ready now. Sunil and I are still in the process of … accepting each other. It is not as uncomplicated, as it was between us”.

Us. I was getting tired of her subtle manipulations to keep reminding me of the past.

She mistook my silence for acquiescence to her line of conversation and continued, “I still get goose bumps when I think about us sometimes.”

She looked at me in anticipation.

“Aditi, why did you call me?”

She thought for a moment. “Instinct. When Anil was found murdered, everyone was scared. Usually, we look up to Dad for direction, but he was shattered. I felt helpless and scared.”

“Fair enough. Let me assure you, Aditi, I have no hidden agenda or ulterior motive to get on this case other than what my profession endows.”

I waited till she had registered the import of my words and felt sufficiently hurt.

“Please don’t embarrass me by talking about the past, or by divulging details of your relationship with your husband. A man has been murdered, and I am trying to do my job. You are my client.”

She gave me a mournful look, and her lips quivered. So did my heart. I softened and said, “Look, Aditi, we are beyond the point where we had to confide everything to each other. Let’s not complicate things.”

She nodded, and bit her lips. “It’s just that I used to feel so close to you that I ….” She terminated the sentence abruptly, and I didn’t persist, although I would have given my left hand to have her complete that sentence.

I waited for her to finish her mousse, and signalled to the waiter for the bill, hoping to bring the meeting to an end.

“Can I have another coffee, please?” she said suddenly. “You have a little more time?”

“Sure.”

“Let’s talk about you. The last I heard you were doing amazingly well in your corporate job. What made you become a private detective?”

“I realised that I was fascinated by corpses.”

She said adamantly, “Come on! Please! Start from the beginning.”

“From the beginning?”

I leaned back, clasped my hands behind my head, and closed my eyes thinking hard.

“Well, in the beginning, there was the Big Bang about one and a half million years ago. Then the earth was …. “

She gave me a disarming smile, and I had to smile back.

“Are you happy?” she enquired at an impulse.

“Immensely.”

I was tempted to ask her whether she was happy. But I resisted the urge. Then I gave up the effort and asked, “Are you? Happy?”

She was prepared with the answer. “I am fine. Sometimes I feel lost, but then, you always used to say that I was prone to depressive spells and dark moods.”

Depressive spells. I had encountered some of those myself when she had dumped me. I said those words to myself.
Dumped me
.

I replied gruffly, “Yeah, shit happens.”

BOOK: Seduced by Murder
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