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Authors: Saurbh Katyal

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BOOK: Seduced by Murder
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She must have noticed the change in my temperament, for she was about to say something, but then decided against it and drank her coffee.

“Well, Mrs Kapoor,” I smiled, laying emphasis on the
Mrs
. “I have to ask you some questions. Please cooperate.”

She looked at me expressionlessly and nodded.

“I would like to speak to some of the family members tomorrow. Can I?”

“Sure. Anyone specifically?”

“Shalini, to start with.”

She arched an eyebrow in mock shock. “So you suspect her?”

She was not surprised by my first choice. Did she know something about Shalini that I didn’t?

“Maybe. I see you are not shocked that I suspect her.”

“Yes, I am not. We all noticed Shalini’s strange behaviour yesterday. One moment she was crying, and the next moment she had a nervous breakdown. She has been a wreck ever since.”

“Hmm … Tell me about her father.”

“That is a tragic story. Mayank Uncle has been Dad’s accountant for the last twenty-five years. His loyalty is legendary.”

“Interesting. I didn’t know that. Tell me about his amnesia.”

We were interrupted by her phone.

“It’s Sunil,” she told me, and started speaking.

“What!” she said excitedly in a second.

Who?” she said, even more excitedly after a while.

“I am with Vishal. Signing the agreement. We are coming over right now.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“They know who murdered Anil!”

I
could sense the atmosphere was charged when I entered the house.

Paras was indignant. “We won’t need the police, Babu! I will hunt and kill the bastard myself.”

It was the genuine anger of an incensed father, who had just discovered the identity of his son’s murderer. His face was flushed. I could see a heart attack lurking somewhere. He tripped over a vase and broke it.

Inspector Babu seemed to be at a loss for words. Vimal came to the rescue.

“Don’t do anything rash, Dad. The last thing we need is a scandal.”

I registered the word
scandal
for future reference.

Paras disregarded his son’s words and said angrily, “That bastard! He thinks he will get away with murdering my son.”

Before we could pre-empt his actions, Paras was out of the door. I didn’t know what to make of it until I heard the roar of an engine revving up, followed by a screech of tires.

Reena cried out in distress, “Vimal, Dad is going to murder him! Do something!”

Vimal looked at the inspector, who looked at Sunil, who looked at me. I had heard enough to understand what had happened.

I said, “We need to follow Mr Kapoor. Do you know where he is going?”

“Yes, he is going to Leo’s apartment,” replied Sunil.

“You know the address?”

“Yes.”

“Come on then. I will drive.”

Two minutes later I was in the driver’s seat, following a Land cruiser. I had seen a Porsche, a Mercedes, and a Land cruiser so far. How could I have competed against all this opulence? Aditi blended into this. Paras was driving like a madman. I lost sight of him occasionally. Sunil was sitting in the co-driver seat, helping me navigate. Vimal and the inspector were seated at the back.

I asked Sunil, “Who is Leo?”

The inspector had been waiting for this question. His tone was mocking. “Your theories were wrong, Mr Dee-tec-tive! We found the real murderer.”

I waited for him to proceed. He held out an elegant gold chain in front of my face. A diamond pendant in the shape of a heart had the letter
L
was ensconced inside – one of those ridiculously shiny and expensive things that would be gifted to a lover.

“This belongs to Leo?”

“Yes, we found it outside the back gate of the farmhouse this morning. So you see, I was correct all along. The murderer had actually entered from that gate.”

I was curious at this unexpected display of aggressiveness on Babu’s part.

“You went to the farmhouse this morning to investigate again! Why?”

“Shalini remembered that she had indeed heard a distant sound the night of the murder. She heard metal scraping
against metal somewhere near the back gate. I put two and two together, and concluded that it had to be the sound of a lock being broken. And I was correct! I would have spotted it yesterday itself, but you misled us with your fairytales about footsteps on sand and narrow grills.”

A million questions ran through my mind. I picked up the most pertinent one. “Hmm … Why didn’t Shalini mention these noises yesterday?”

Vimal sounded protective as he answered, “She must have been in shock, poor woman.”

Sunil lent his support. “And thank God she remembered it this morning! We were lucky that the inspector found the locket before any villager got his hands on it. You almost had us believe that one of us had committed the murder. You should be stopped from pursuing detective work.”

I ignored his threat, and wondered at the possibilities. I was sure that there was no locket outside the gate yesterday. I had scanned every inch of the property near the gate. It was highly likely that Shalini had placed the locket there herself to mislead us.

“So, it would appear that this Leo entered from the back gate, and murdered Anil. But the lock could not have been broken from the outside.”

Babu said, “Leo was Anil’s friend. They used to come together to the farmhouse frequently. It would be easy for Leo to get a key.”

“Okay. That’s possible. Motive?”

“Uh … motive … yes … that we will find out when we arrest him.”

“This Leo … do you know him?” I asked the brothers.

I looked in the rearview mirror, and saw Vimal glancing quizzically at Sunil. Sunil widened his eyes at Vimal, a signal to be covert and cautious.

“Leo was a close friend of Anil’s,” said Sunil.

They were hiding something.

“And what about you? Is he your friend too?” I questioned.

Sunil looked at his lap uncomfortably and replied, “No. He was close only to Anil.”

I persisted. “You have seen Leo wearing this locket?”

“Anil had given the pendant to Leo.”

It was too intimate a locket to be gifted by a man to another. Then reality hit me suddenly, and I slowed the car to concentrate. The pattern seemed clear – Anil sleeping alone, Shalini’s behaviour, Vimal warning his dad of a scandal, Anil and Leo coming to the farmhouse together, and the heart-shaped locket. I chose my next words carefully.

Sunil’s temper had been legendary in our college. An incident that occurred back then was still entrenched in my mind. We had been sitting in the mess during the lunch hour. A mess worker had accidentally slipped and dropped a bowl of curry on Sunil’s expensive designer clothes. His normally calm and pleasant demeanour had changed into something ugly. His face contorted into an all-consuming anger, and he punched the poor kid in the stomach so hard that the chap lost consciousness.

I remembered that punch now, and deliberated on paraphrasing my doubts without provoking him, in case I was wrong. He was already angry at me, and my left eye was directly under threat if he did decide to sock me in one.

“So, Anil and Leo were lovers,” I said nonchalantly. I had slowed the vehicle down already, to duck in case Sunil
retaliated with violence. However, I was relieved to see him turn pale.

Vimal was surprised. “Who told you that?”

I pointed at the locket. Sunil gave me a look of awe, or fear, or probably both. He asked slowly, “Did Aditi discuss Leo’s relationship with you?”

“No. I guessed.”

Inspector Babu asked, “What do you mean lovers … oh … OH … OOH!”

I asked Vimal, “What can you tell me about Leo?”

Sunil interrupted, “Nothing. We don’t keep contact with him at all.”

“Where is Mr Kapoor heading?”

“Dad is going to Tox town. Leo has an apartment there.”

“You don’t keep any contact with Leo, but your dad knows where he stays?” Curiosity was evident in my voice.

“Yes. Leo stays in The French Boulevard.”

“That’s not what I meant. How do you guys know where he stays?”

I looked at Vimal in the rearview mirror, expecting an answer. He averted his eyes.

“You used to visit Leo for cocktails then?”

Vimal replied drily, “The apartment was gifted to Leo by Anil.”

“Aha,” I nodded, understanding.

There was a blind corner at the edge of the road, and I turned only to be greeted by commotion. The Land cruiser had banged into an Alto. Three irate teenagers, evidently the occupants of the Alto, had surrounded Paras and were shouting at him.

I braked hard, heard some curses from the driver behind me, and tried to steer to a corner of the road. Babu responded with a speed surprising for a man of his build, and was between the three youths and Paras even before I had managed to bring the car to a halt.

Babu took charge immediately, and said something to the youths that made them scoot faster than chilled beer through a digestive tract. The only major damage was a nasty dent on the Land cruiser, and a cut on Paras’s forehead that kept bleeding. It was decided that Sunil would drive Paras to a hospital in the Land cruiser. Babu and Vimal joined me in my car, and we continued our journey to Leo’s house.

The French Boulevard was one of those classy apartments. The lawn was covered by grass that you see on tennis courts on Star Sports, and the women wearing stilettos blew flying kisses at each other while walking their poodles. Two towers touched the sky overlooking a gigantic pool. The architecture was gaudy and rich. I wondered why it was called The French Boulevard.

“What’s so French about it?” I asked no one in general.

“The architecture!” said Vimal. “Look at the tiled courtyards, red and green roofed terraces, expansive windows, and open spaces.”

I laughed sarcastically. “Obviously, the developer mistook Amritsar for France.”

“The developer happens to be my father,” said Vimal drily, “and I assure you, he’s been to France quite often.”

I found myself in one of those embarrassing moments that no amount of improvisation can salvage – like the time when you start peeing against the imposing wall of a secluded bungalow, and just as you are concentrating on the exodus, the
owner of the house, with the personality of an army colonel, and a German Shepherd at his heels, confronts you. You are at your most vulnerable, anatomically, and any attempt to salvage your pride is futile. You just ignore them and get out.

I pretended to fiddle with the car radio. Vimal was still sulking when I asked, “By the way, how does Leo look?”

“I have never seen him.”

We parked the car in the visitor’s parking area and walked towards the entrance of the building.

“Do you know the exact address?”

“House number 203. Second floor,” said Vimal, pointing to a terrace. There were some clothes drying on the railing of the terrace.

Babu marched to the guard sitting at the reception and spoke authoritatively, “We want to see Leo.”

He turned to Vimal and asked for Leo’s full name. Vimal didn’t know.

The guard opened an orifice decayed with years of tobacco abuse and said, “Leo sir is out since last evening. He hasn’t come home.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. He informed me that he would be back only tomorrow night.”

We came out disappointed, and Babu charted out the future course of action.

“I need a search warrant. I will phone the station and get it issued. I will also call for a backup, so that we can wait here and ambush him. You may have to drive me back to the Kapoor residence. My jeep is there.”

“Well, I guess there is no point waiting here. I will drive both of you to the house and—”

“What’s wrong?” Babu noticed my puzzled expression.

“There was a brown towel in the balcony when we came. It is not there now,” I said, pointing towards the terrace.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Also, the door leading to the room from the terrace is open. Why would someone leave the door to the terrace open if he is out for a couple of days? Leo is inside! He must have instructed the guard to lie.”

I looked at the pipe leading to the terrace, and quickly told Babu of my plan. “I will climb up the pipe and enter from the terrace. Once I am inside, I will dash to the main door and open it. We can capture him then. When I am halfway up, you, Vimal, and the watchman, walk up to Leo’s main door and wait there. If I don’t open the front door in five minutes, break it open and charge in.”

I assumed that everyone was in acquiescence, and made a sprint for the pipe. To my amazement, I hadn’t moved an inch. I looked behind and saw the reason for the impediment. Inspector Babu was holding my T-shirt. He said disapprovingly, “I am afraid I can’t let you do this.”

I gave him a disbelieving stare. “Why not?”

“It is too dangerous. If anyone has to climb up the pipe, it has to be me,” he said nobly.

I looked at the chaotic mass of his stomach, and pleaded with my eyes.

“Inspector, please understand that in this case, procrastination will make us culpable of helping the criminal escape. Leo has instructed the guard to lie. That means he is trying to buy time, maybe fix evidence. I think I may be faster than you.”

BOOK: Seduced by Murder
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ads

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