The Cosmic Clues (3 page)

“If this is an outside job, can you give me one reason why someone would choose your house for the murder?”

“No,” Patkar said firmly. “I've been thinking about it, but it beats me.” He sighed.

“Satish was murdered in your house, in your bed, and with a paper cutter which belonged to the house—never mind who it belonged to. I think it's pretty obvious to me that someone from the house—I won't say family because it's a little too soon to come to conclusions—is responsible for this hideous crime. Someone, perhaps, who bore malice towards Satish. You do understand the implications of such a possibility?” Sonia asked the question very carefully.

Ajay Patkar looked deeply unhappy. “I've been assailed by these same doubts the last few days and that is precisely why I'm here. The thought had crossed my mind that in all likelihood, the search would result in turning inwards, towards my family. But when I think of poor Satish, my blood boils! Why him? No one—except for Mother and Yamuna Maushi, our housekeeper—really knew him! And they've always liked Satish and encouraged my friendship with him. It all seems so pointless!”

“What about Naresh?”

“Oh, Naresh met Satish for the first time that evening. It was a spur-of-the-moment invitation, so he had no idea I had a guest staying over. In the beginning, I thought Naresh looked a little distracted but then he and Satish did exchange some views on advertising and it was an enjoyable dinner. I'm sure Satish felt good all evening. At least that's a solace to me—he was happy and content for his last-ever meal! We had absolutely no inkling that something so frightful would happen! It seems almost impossible that one of my family members could have . . .” He faltered.

“But it is a strong possibility that we cannot afford to ignore,” Sonia interposed.

The
chaiwala
—the boy from the tea stall—arrived just then and served the hot liquid. They sipped it in silence.

“Will you take up this case, Miss Samarth?” Patkar asked. “Even though the police are already handling it?”

“I will, but first you ought to understand how Stellar Investigations works. You may have seen our ad in the
Times
yesterday?”

“I'm afraid not.”

“Never mind. It's important for you to know that we operate differently from other Investigators. We combine Criminology with Astrology. Do you believe in Astrology?”

He looked confused. “I . . . guess so. I don't know. I mean, I've never really chased Astrologers to read my future!” he added with a sheepish grin.

“But you believe in it enough to have your horoscope made? Well, your father's maybe, if not yours?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, just last month when I was sorting out my father's cupboard, I discovered a whole bunch of horoscopes. He must've got the horoscopes made when I was a kid.”

“Good. Can you get me those of your family members?”

“Of course. But what do you plan to do with them?” he asked curiously.

“Right now, it must suffice for you to know that I need them to deliver my goods!” She smiled. “I'd also like to take a look at your house and possibly speak to a few people. Perhaps right away?”

“Mahesh Uncle may be in the office, but you can meet the others.”

“Good enough. You can give me your address and I shall follow you. Also, I'd like you to jot down the details of Satish's ad agency and home.” She pushed a pad towards him.

Patkar quickly scribbled the addresses on the paper and then left.

Sonia turned towards Jatin with sparkling eyes. “Well, what do you make of it all?”

“It's Naresh, of course! The cousin. And I can bet they will find his fingerprints on the paper cutter,” Jatin foretold confidently.

“But why would he wish to kill a perfect stranger? That is, assuming that Naresh really met Satish for the first time that night. Remember that a crime is investigated on three
M
s. Motive—why the crime was committed; Modus Operandi—how the crime was committed; and Material—what weapon was used to implement the crime. There's got to be a motive for Naresh to kill Satish. And we don't know anything about Mahesh Uncle. And Ajay's mother and his Yamuna Maushi. And of course, it wouldn't do to overlook the odd chance that Satish did really have enemies that Ajay Patkar knows nothing about! Someone may have wished to settle an old score! This case is not as straight as it looks, Jatin. We have to examine beyond the surface and we'll have to do a great deal of scratching of the top to get to the bottom of the matter!”

Jatin's eyes shone with anticipation. “Are we going over to Patkar's house with a magnifying glass? We'll need it, and I've done a lot of reading up on forensics and—”

“Hey, hold it! I'm sure you've done your homework but I'd rather work with my brains and horoscopes than magnifying glasses. Besides, the police surely have covered that ground!” Sonia chipped in quickly, before her eager colleague could expound on his novel-earned pages of knowledge.

“Oh!” His face fell.

Sonia almost felt sorry for Jatin. She'd better handle him well, or she would lose her best and only assistant. “But there's something else that you can do,” she added.

“Right!” He whipped out his pad again and the smile was back on his face.

“Listen carefully. I'd like you to go to Satish's ad agency and make some discreet inquiries. Speak to his associates; find out about his office life, friends, enemies if any, relations with everyone. If they're reluctant to talk, tell them you're authorized to question people. Visit his house, meet his neighbors, have a chat with them.”

“Right, Boss.”

“And Jatin—while you're out, see that you buy a lovely, soft cushion for Nidhi!”

“For
whom
?”

“Nidhi—the cat.
Nidhi
means wealth and our Nidhi is here to stay. She's earned her home in this office!”

“Right, Boss!” Jatin grinned appreciatively.

The ceiling fan groaned and creaked. Sonia glanced up and smiled. “And yes, find an electrician and see that that fan is in top condition today!”

Jatin stared at the fan, bewildered, and shrugged.

Koregaon Park, where Patkar lived, was on the other end of Pune, and Sonia drove slowly through the heavy traffic. Her secondhand Maruti van hiccupped over bone-shaking speed-breakers. Hot air through the windows fanned her already flushed and perspiring face. At a traffic signal, she swept a cotton hanky across her forehead, as she waited for the red signal to change to green. A carrier truck, with a huge slogan printed on its back—
Love Thy Mother
—blocked her route. An auto on her right displayed a lingerie ad and Sonia couldn't help grinning. Anything for a little extra money. The signal turned green and immediately cars honked impatiently. Cyclists and two-wheelers cut recklessly through her path. Considering the manner in which the busses and the rash two-wheelers raced at high speed, you'd think that the Pune roads were empty. Instead, the roads pulsated with life, not only with vehicles criss-crossing dangerously, but also two- and four-legged animals lazing casually on the streets. Sonia sighed. Heat or no heat, with every passing day, the traffic was getting unbearable.

Finally, she drove into Koregaon Park—a residential area for the upper crust of society, which also housed one of the major attractions of Pune, the Osho Commune—the international meditation centre of Osho Rajneesh. Sonia observed the Westerners—the followers of Osho Rajneesh—couples strolling about arm-in-arm, attired in long maroon robes—the dress code of the Commune. Vendors lined the street, selling colorful silk scarves, short kurtas, and an array of white and maroon robes. Sonia had always found the Commune fascinating. One day she hoped to study what lay behind its walls. But right now, she had to concentrate on her first major case in hand!

The Patkar house was a grand, two-storey affair, off the main street. Sonia drove past two police Constables, deep in discussion, outside the bungalow. The well-maintained lawn was a treat to the eyes, as she led her van down the drive. She had just pulled up her vehicle and taken a swig from the water bottle she made it mandatory to carry with her, when Ajay Patkar strode towards her, with a hospitable smile. If he noticed how flushed and sweaty she looked, he was tactful not to mention it.

“I'm glad you could make it so quick. Would you like anything? Something to drink before we begin?”

“No, let's get started.”

“Fine! Where would you like to start?”

“The guest room, I believe.”

He nodded and indicated the way. A quaint red brick path led to the back of the house, past a small rock fountain, which had a wonderful cooling effect. Sonia paused, pretending to observe the house, and allowed the fountain to transfer its cool moisture. Then, feeling refreshed and composed, she followed Patkar to the guest room. They stopped at a door and Patkar unlatched it.

“There are two entrances to this room,” he explained. “One from inside the house and the other from the garden, in case any of my guests need the privacy.”

A faint odour, mingled with the scent of an air freshener, whiffed into Sonia's nose, as they stepped inside. She sniffed it.

“The stench must have been pretty bad,” she observed.

“Yes, it was awful. Yamuna Maushi hunted out a dead mouse the next day, from under the bed.”

“Do you usually find mice around here?”

“No. Yamuna Maushi and our gardener make absolutely certain of that. You know, placing poison balls to get rid of the mice, for the monthly housecleaning, that kind of thing.”

“And this was not the housecleaning time of the month? I mean, maybe one of the servants had placed poison balls to get rid of the rodents.”

“Not that I know of. But you could ask Maushi later.”

Sonia moved quietly round the room, her keen eye observing the smallest detail. A bed, a cupboard, a table and chair were the sole occupants of the space. The cupboard was empty. She opened the bathroom door and her eyes swept over the clean toilet. A cupboard in the corner of the bathroom caught her attention and she moved towards it. She opened it and frowned. An odd collection of articles lined the shelf. An ink bottle with some liquid in it, a piece of cloth, and a tiny glass stick. She picked up the bottle and read the label on it. “Cashewnut Juice.” Strange, and yet she sensed something familiar about it all. Something she ought to know.

“Is this room secluded from the rest of the house?” she asked, closing the toilet door behind her.

Patkar was leaning against the bedpost, waiting patiently for her, and he straightened at once. “That's right. I told you, it was to serve a dual purpose. Freedom of movement and privacy. Where to next?”

“Your room, please.”

This time, they took the inner door, which led down a corridor into the main hall. The entire décor of the house was ornate, and each room they passed was populated with a large collection of valuable antiques. Brass statues of Lord Krishna in different positions, blackened with age, stood on display in the grand hall. Patkar explained as they climbed the stairs and reached the landing that his father had been an avid collector of old statues.

“My mother and I have rooms in this wing and Mahesh Uncle and Naresh have rooms on the other side,” he explained. “This is my bedroom here.”

The room where Satish had breathed his last was beautifully done up, with money poured with a free hand into its decorations. Lush blue carpet, thick embroidered curtains, a wall-to-wall wardrobe, and a sprawling bookshelf lined with gold-gilded volumes of books. Apparently, Ajay was a much-loved son.

“I shudder to come in here. It's too soon to sleep in this bed,” he said in a low voice.

“I can understand,” Sonia agreed sympathetically. “It must've been an awful experience to find your best friend lying dead in your very own bed!”

She approached the window and glanced down. No ivy or pipeline ran along the outside wall. It would be difficult for a stranger to climb up that way. Her gaze skimmed over the room. It was thoroughly cleaned up, leaving absolutely no trace of any gory incident. Obviously, the police had finished with the murder scene.

The door opened and a plump woman in her mid-fifties bustled in. Draped in a printed cotton sari with her hair casually bundled in a bun, she wore a big, round
bindi
on her forehead.

“Here you are, Ajaybaba. These are some letters for you.”

“Thank you, Maushi.” Patkar took the letters from her and quickly scanned through the return addresses.

“Yamuna Maushi.” Sonia smiled at the woman. “You've been with the family for years, haven't you?”

“Oh yes, ever since Ajaybaba was a year old,” the housekeeper replied. “I was living in Goa at that time and they were in Mumbai. Ajaybaba's mother was finding it difficult looking after the baby, so his father called me over from Goa to take care of the child. Ever since, I have been a part of this family, taking care of all of them and looking after the house.”

“She loves me like a son,” Patkar explained with an affectionate smile at the plump lady.

“I believe you found a dead mouse in the guest room?” Sonia questioned.

“Oh yes, God! What a shameful thing to have happened. I particularly see to it that every nook and corner of this house is properly dusted and cleaned. Never a cockroach or mouse will you find! Then out of the blue this dead rodent! And to think that I didn't notice it! It was terrible!”

“Then you hadn't put out poison balls or anything of the kind?”

“Certainly not! I don't know what is happening to this house! The tragic death of Satish the other night—poor, poor boy—such a wonderfully sensitive boy, so quiet and nice—to think that such a horrible thing could happen to someone so decent! And then this mouse! I found it under the bed, the very next day. I keep telling Ajaybaba that God is terribly angry with us! These incidents do not augur well. It's necessary to do
shanti
—a ritual to sanctify the house. I'm going to light incense sticks in every room to expel the evil spirits!” Maushi left the room, still muttering under her breath.

“She's a dear,” Ajay Patkar remarked, grinning fondly, as he and Sonia stepped out into the corridor again. “She's been more like a mother to me than a governess. Of course, my parents have always been there for me when I needed them,” he added hastily. “But building up a business in industrial products is no easy matter. It took up a lot of their time, so I was naturally left in Maushi's care.”

“How did Mrs. Patkar take the news? I mean, a murder right next door!”

“Oh, my mother was so greatly shocked that she fainted! She hasn't been feeling well and is in bed. She always approved of my friendship with Satish and liked him tremendously.”

“Do you think I could meet her for a minute? Or would I be intruding on her privacy?”

“I'll have to check. Will you wait here a second?”

Sonia nodded. Patkar knocked on the door opposite his own and stepped inside. She could hear muffled voices, and then he reappeared.

“You can go in,” he told Sonia. “I have some phone calls to make, if you'll excuse me. And I'll find those horoscopes for you. Feel free to look around, as you please.”

“I will, thanks.”

Mrs. Patkar's room was exactly as Sonia had imagined it. Large and spacious, with the distinct touch of femininity. Dreamy pink walls with a framed mural of Lord Ganesh, printed curtains, bedspread, and a huge wardrobe aligning the entire left wall of the room. The elaborate dressing table with its multiple mirrors undoubtedly reflected the personality of the owner.

A woman in her late forties, attired in a fashionable, dainty nightie, sat up in the plush bed. Flawless skin that glowed in spite of the dark circles under the eyes, manicured fingers nervously twining and entwining into each other, and a faint sad smile on lightly brushed pink lips. A woman with expensive tastes, and money at her fingertips to satisfy those tastes! But Sonia was also aware, having seen her often on Television, that Mrs. Patkar was a philanthropist who gave away a lot of money to charity. It raised her respect for the lady.

“Hello, Miss Samarth. I'm so glad you're here. I can't wait to see this whole messy business cleared up!” Mrs. Patkar spoke in a soft, refined voice.

“I understand the feeling,” Sonia replied sympathetically. “And I'll do my best to solve matters. But what I really need, at the moment, is all the information I can get my hands on. Any bits and pieces of knowledge, however unimportant, could prove to be useful links in this case!”

“Absolutely! Please, ask me whatever you need to ask,” Mrs. Patkar remarked in a pressing tone.

“Can you tell me what time you came home on Wednesday night?”

“I was very busy that evening,” the older woman said immediately. “You see, I socialize a lot—social commitments of all kinds. You can never say no to anyone—not when you are in my position!” She sighed. “Women Councils, board meetings, Chief Guest at functions—all that lot. I think it must've been twelve-thirty when I returned that night. I went straight to my room. I was so tired that I slept like a log! And the next morning I learnt this terrible news. I couldn't believe my ears! Poor Satish! He was such a good friend of Ajay's! Such a nice boy. We've known him for years! Why would anyone want to kill the poor soul! Sometimes Destiny—life—is so cruel, so inconceivably ruthless that I begin to feel quite uneasy!”

“I can imagine,” Sonia agreed with a thoughtful expression. “Did you hear any kind of disturbance in the night? A sound perhaps? Or a door opening? A cry for help?”

“Absolutely nothing. I told you, I slept like a log.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Patkar. I won't interrupt your rest any more.”

“But you will get to the bottom of this matter?” the older woman asked anxiously.

“Rest assured, I will.” Sonia smiled and left the room.

She regained the corridor, deep in thought, and crossed over to the other wing. She tried the first door and it swung open. Here was a room in keeping with the rest of this rich house, announcing the strength of money. An ornate writing table stood in a corner. A photograph of a young, smiling face stared back at her as she rummaged through the articles on the table. A writing pad, envelopes, a laminated driving license bearing Naresh's name, ballpoint pens. So, this was Cousin Naresh's room. Sonia took the license and read the expiry date. Nine years from now. A new license. She replaced it on the table, observing mentally that it would be easy to pocket any one of these articles to incriminate Naresh. Sonia lifted the framed photo and studied the youthful smile. Naresh was as good-looking as his cousin was. Why would anyone wish to frame him for murder? Especially since he had never met Satish before? But what if that was just an act and Naresh did nurse a private grudge against Satish? Did Naresh have a secret agenda? Had he, in fact, killed Satish?