‘You sure it isn’t Viktor?’ Darya asked.
Rosaline was starting to look doubtful. ‘Surely that was Daniel I saw with Sharon a week ago, entering through the back? He gave me a wave even.’
Darya had never seen a back door at the villa. The old woman was likely mixing things up.
‘How do you know it wasn’t Viktor?’ she asked.
Rosaline’s eyes clouded at the question. ‘He looks different,’ she replied, an edge in her voice. ‘He wears those glasses and that cap. But neither talks to me, so I ignore them too.’
She looked away. Her jaw was set in a cold line, obviously done with Darya’s questioning. Darya knew she couldn’t ask what was burning in her head.
Had Rosaline ever seen the two together?
Two girls giggled as they passed by them, fingers pointing at the D’Mello bungalow, lips whispering giddily.
‘And Debbie’s husband?’ Darya asked when the two were out of sight. ‘Have you seen him?’
Rosaline gave a chortle. ‘Debbie says she is married but she’s not. Does she think we are fools? Wearing a fake wedding ring doesn’t fool us. When you’re married you have a glow. We know. Plus, Rodrigo says he has seen her with two or three different men in Walkeshwar. He goes there for work sometimes, to the Sai Baba electronic shop next to the temple.’
‘And her father?’ Darya prompted.
She shrugged feebly. ‘Don’t know about him. He died in some accident…’
Darya put her next question lightly. ‘Was there a private movie of Debbie also that went around?’
Rosaline raised a questioning eyebrow.
‘An MMS.’
Rosaline shook her head, but Darya noted the wary look on her face. ‘Not that I know of,’ she mumbled. Next, she caught Darya’s eye, and with an apologetic expression, added, ‘I’m old, losing my mind. This is what I know. Anyhow…’ She gave a pale shrug and chuckled a little too loudly. ‘The Mascarenhas don’t concern me. I feel bad for Nancy…’
Then, Darya’s heart nearly sprang out of her body when Rosaline jumped up from her chair with an inhuman shriek. ‘There they are!’ Her granddaughters were visiting from Dombivli and the car carrying the two long-legged, shorts-clad teenagers had arrived. Darya reluctantly made an exit, hoping to catch Rosaline on her porch again to ask all the new questions that were now popping into her head.
Once back at the villa, Darya told Veda everything.
‘That’s not enough,’ Veda said regretfully when Darya finished.
‘We’ve only just started looking.’
‘About Daniel…’ Veda trailed off.
‘It’s suspicious, isn’t it?’ Darya said. ‘Are there really two of them? Why would Debbie lie?’
‘If Daniel was up to no good, she would lie.’
‘No good like what do you mean?’
‘Think,’ Veda told her. ‘What if he had something to do with the women disappearing?’
Darya had had the same thought herself, but… ‘That’s a long shot,’ she told Veda. ‘And why tell Rosaline his name if they wanted to keep it a secret?’
‘That was four years ago. Maybe Daniel made a mistake or Rosaline’s simply imagining stuff,’ Veda muttered. ‘Anyway, Jasmine said it was Viktor.’
‘What was Viktor?’ asked Darya.
Veda gave a start as if realizing she had said something she shouldn’t have. ‘Nothing,’ she replied quickly. ‘Looking through his things may give us some clue.’
Darya eyed Veda, biting back the question on her lips. ‘That you better not do,’ she warned. ‘At least not yet. Let’s wait for the right time.’
‘How do we wait for it?’
Darya ignored the jibe. ‘By studying his schedule. What he does the whole day. When he leaves the reception, etc.’
‘Long drawn.’
‘But rational.’
There was silence as Darya thought it the right moment to take out the strip of medicine from under her pile of clothes and swallow the tiny yellow tablet, but Veda noticed and immediately chastised, ‘Not again, Darya.’
With some remorse, Darya muttered, ‘Just for tonight.’
‘Why do you need it?’
She hadn’t yet told Veda about her quarrel with Aaron. ‘Not able to sleep, that’s all,’ she said, avoiding Veda’s eye.
‘Please,’ Veda warned. ‘Let it not be like last time.’
‘No,’ she told Veda firmly. ‘This’—she flapped the strip in front of her face—‘is only for a few days.’ Until Aaron started talking to her again, that is.
Darya hadn’t given up trying to reach Aaron. After his last message, she’d called and messaged him several times, but he’d merely sent another crisp text reply. Give me some time. Darya prayed he’d call soon. She wanted to talk to him to explain. She knew talking it through with him was going to be important to make him understand.
‘Why haven’t you been sleeping?’ Veda asked.
‘It happens sometimes,’ she replied vaguely.
‘Just don’t…’ Veda trailed off.
In the end, two simultaneous messages on Darya’s phone saved her from further conversation.
One was from her father: Roshan is ready to meet you. He has your certificates.
And one was from Roshan himself: If you’re free tomorrow, meet after your class? This is Roshan.
The next day, it was Darya’s turn to chastise Veda when she came downstairs and saw Veda hanging about the reception. The door was open an inch; a slight breeze was making it jiggle.
‘What are you doing?’ Darya asked, making Veda jump. She moved away quickly from the door and towards the stairs. In another situation, this would have been amusing to Darya but not now. She knew exactly what Veda had been up to.
‘Shhhh,’ Veda warned, raising a finger to her lip, gesturing at the reception.
‘Precisely that’s why,’ Darya hissed.
‘He’s inside. Just got in,’ Veda said. She jerked a thumb at the adjacent corridor. ‘And Rajesh is in his room. They’ll hear you.’
‘And you.’
‘I’m being very quiet,’ she said. ‘Sapna isn’t here though. Haven’t seen her in a while. Must have gone back to wherever Rajesh and she are from.’
‘What are you doing here?’ Darya demanded.
Veda cocked an eyebrow. ‘Waiting to bid you goodbye.’
‘I’m not joking, Veda.’
‘Neither am I.’
Darya sighed. Then taking hold of Veda’s elbow, she opened the front door and led her outside. ‘What were you doing?’ she whispered.
‘It’s not there anymore,’ Veda hissed back. ‘I was too late.’
Darya let out an annoyed exhale. But despite herself, she was disappointed.
‘Did you look everywhere?’ she asked.
Veda shook her head. ‘He’d gone out only for a moment. I looked in the drawers. Then I heard his footsteps… luckily he’s a heavy walker… and I bolted.’
Darya quite easily sensed Veda’s despondency and also realized that she wasn’t going to stop trying. Darya was secretly pleased Veda hadn’t found the DVR; what could they have done with it anyway? It wasn’t really a crime to keep porn, even if it featured your own sister. Disgusting, yes, but not a crime.
They stood awkwardly in the garden for a few seconds. Vaguely, Darya noted the sound of a faint rumble in the sky. Nothing and nobody stirred inside the villa. Three cars moved past them in succession, billowing smoke.
‘It’s going to rain,’ Veda commented, breaking the silence.
‘What are your plans for today? Have you applied for any new jobs?’
A flash of irritation passed across Veda’s face. ‘Lots to do,’ she replied, letting out a shaky laugh. ‘Don’t wait up for me.’ She moved past Darya and opened the front door.
‘Don’t do anything rash, Veda,’ Darya called out as Veda stepped inside. ‘Or anything alone. Let’s talk before.’
‘Shhhh,’ Veda said, not turning back.<
br />
The bride-to-be Darya had met before—Priscilla—who lived by Quiche Corner abandoned her water hose and made a dash for the front door as soon as she saw Darya approaching her. Their earlier encounter seemed to have left a lasting impression on her.
‘Wait,’ Darya shouted, hurrying. ‘I just want to talk. Please.’
She stopped.
‘Just want to know about something you said the other day.’
Turning, she asked, ‘What is it?’, her eyes flickering with curiosity.
Darya gestured towards the flimsy, waist-high aluminium gate.
‘Oh, all right,’ Priscilla murmured. Darya opened the gate and walked into the garden.
She didn’t invite Darya into the house. ‘Mum and Da are in,’ Priscilla said, a sullen note in her voice. ‘There’s a lot to do for the wedding.’
‘When is it?’ Darya asked, intending to befriend her before asking questions.
‘In two weeks,’ Priscilla replied shortly. ‘What do you want?’
Darya had toyed with the idea of making up a backstory to ease the woman into revealing what she knew, but it didn’t seem possible now.
She plunged right into it.
‘Why did you call Deborah a witch the other day?’
Priscilla frowned. ‘I did not.’
‘I heard you.’
She shrugged. ‘Slip of tongue. Just didn’t want a picture in front of that house.’
‘Why?’
‘It is cursed.’ She hesitated. ‘Yeah, I don’t like that weird woman Deborah either. How do you live there with her?’
Darya put on a puzzled expression. ‘She seems okay.’
‘She and her brother, both are super odd,’ Priscilla retorted. ‘She says she’s married, but I’ve never seen a husband. Look at how she dresses and behaves! Never smiles at us, ignores us and walks on. Mum tried to be friendly at first. She rebuffed all advances. Da says she has another luxurious bungalow at Walkeshwar. If so, why stay here? She must have money. Why stay on at Chapel Road? I’ve heard strange noises coming from the villa. And that Viktor…’ Her frown deepened. ‘He leers at me. They both give me the creeps.’
‘Her bungalow at Walkeshwar…’ Darya said, ‘maybe her husband lives there?’
A shrug. ‘Maybe.’
‘Is it next to the Walkeshwar temple?’ Darya asked.
‘Why?’ Priscilla asked in a hushed voice. ‘Why so many questions? Did you find anything about her? Are you thinking of leaving the villa?’ She nodded encouragingly. ‘You should.’
‘Tell me,’ Darya insisted.
With a firm set of her lips, as if upset by Darya’s doggedness, she replied, ‘I think so.’
However, when Darya went to check it out for herself, she wasn’t convinced. The temple towered next to the Sai Baba electronic shop, and there were only more shops on either side. A government office stood a few steps to the right, a decrepit park a few steps to the left. Behind the park lay a building complex with a BMC eviction notice stuck to its main gate.
What a load of hogwash, she thought ruefully.
There was definitely something odd about Debbie and Viktor and a lot of questions played on her mind. But it was pointless to follow up on every rumour being thrown her way.
She was going to have to be selective if she was to get to the bottom of this mystery.
They were meeting at a coffee shop in Churchgate, a ten-minute bus ride from her class. He was late. Already! Darya tapped her fingers impatiently on the glass tabletop. Roshan had sounded polite over the phone, offering to travel to where she was, giving every sign he wasn’t going to be the vexing company she’d been dreading.
Darya watched the people sitting around her. Oblivious to her and her throbbing heartburn, they ate. Bun maska, keema pav, steaming khari chai. It was a popular Irani café she had chosen.
She cupped her cheeks in her hands and waited.
When Roshan entered, Darya knew immediately it was him. Her father had hinted that he made a good first impression—suave, he had said—and much to her surprise, he had been right. He hadn’t been overstating for her benefit.
Roshan was lean with broad shoulders. Athletic. He wore a white shirt over blue jeans, tapered brown Oxfords on his feet. His hair had been carefully styled. He walked towards her confidently, a questioning smile on his lips. He seemed to know her too. Either her father had done a good job of describing her to him, or he remembered her from when they were young.
‘You used to look different!’ Darya said as she rose to her feet and extended a hand to shake his.
His smile broadened. Darya noted the slight gap between his front teeth. The artful stubble on his chin. His manicured hands. This was someone who went to great lengths to take care of himself.
‘Do I?’ He rubbed a confident hand over his cheeks. ‘How?’
They sat down. Darya noted vaguely the snugness of his shirt and how it hugged the muscles he had obviously worked very hard to build.
‘Well?’ he asked.
‘What?’ Darya asked, confused. She had forgotten his question.
‘How do I look different? You haven’t changed much,’ he said. ‘Gotten prettier maybe.’
Darya’s heart fluttered. She lowered her eyes, then grimaced at her puerile behaviour.
‘It’s nothing,’ she said dismissively. ‘Do you have my certificates?’
She hadn’t noticed the laptop bag he had been carrying. He leaned to pull out a plastic folder from it.
‘Here you go,’ he said, handing it over. His fingers touched hers, and she withdrew them hastily as if pricked.
He looked at her curiously. ‘Is something the matter?’ he asked.
She shook her head and placed the file on the table.
‘Do you want to eat something?’ she asked.
He nodded. Darya ordered a Pallonji’s ice-cream soda and Roshan asked for a mava puff and chai.
‘How’s Nagpur?’ Darya asked. She hadn’t been there in two years, but her parents mentioned with pride every now and then how rapidly the city was changing. For the better.
‘We live in Mumbai now,’ Roshan said. ‘In Worli. Your father must have told you?’
Darya said yes. So much had happened, she had forgotten.
‘He visited a few days ago,’ Roshan continued. ‘He had some business with my father.’
‘He didn’t tell me,’ Darya said, surprised.
‘They were busy all day. Your father left for Nagpur the same night.’
Silently, Darya fumed. He could have called at least.
‘You look preoccupied,’ Roshan said. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing,’ Darya mumbled. ‘Too much going on.’
‘Is it about the murdered girl they found? From Chapel Road?’ Then in response to Darya’s startled look, he said, ‘Your father told me you were staying there. It’s okay to be worried. I would be too.’
Darya nodded.
‘I have, in fact, met the hotel’s owners, the Sewadars a couple of times,’ he said. ‘We move in the same circles. They live close by.’
‘What’s happening to them?’ Darya asked. She had been so wrapped in her own intrigue, she had forgotten the police were actively investigating Eileen’s murder in the outside world. She’d been following up the case as best she could, but with conflicting reports, it often got confusing.
‘The Sewadars will be let go. They’re too influential,’ Roshan admitted, flashing Darya an apologetic look. ‘The police are looking at another suspect now. But that girl… Eileen… had been away from her home for over a year. There might be no connection between her death and the disappearances on Chapel Road.’
Darya shrugged, playing with her food. ‘I doubt it.’
When they wound up after an hour and promised to meet again, Roshan told Darya she could call him if she needed any help. ‘No need to continue staying at the villa,’ he told her. ‘We have a big enough house. Both Veda and you can stay for a month. I’m sure Dad
wouldn’t mind.’
Darya smiled at his generous offer, telling him she’d think it over. But she knew she was not going to. While her head was telling her it was the right thing to do, characteristically, her heart was lulling her to stay on, to get to the bottom of the mystery that was brewing around her. It was giving her a morbid thrill. She couldn’t shake it off.
Not until she’d solved it.
No matter what the cost.
When Darya returned home at night, the villa skulked in front of her like a monster in the dark. The door to the reception was bolted and the corridor was lit only by a solitary bulb. No one seemed to be around, not even Veda.
Darya shut the door to her room. Her heart was strangely bothered. She was surprised to have enjoyed her time with Roshan. Aaron hadn’t come up in her mind even once. She’d felt light-hearted and happy, and she now realized why. Roshan reminded her of her ex-boyfriend, Spandan, the one before Aaron.
‘A penchant for dark and dangerous men.’ Veda’s judgment of Darya came back to her. Darya had decided that it had ended with Spandan because he had caused her to fall apart. Then Aaron came, and Darya had known that was it. Someone like Aaron was who she needed. And now Roshan had brought onward the same old toxic thrill, the desire for which she had learned to bury deep within herself.
As she tried to desperately suppress the buoyancy in her mood, she wondered what Aaron would make of all this if he knew. They’d had but one quarrel, the cause of which was most definitely Darya, and here she was, already thinking about another man.
Darya threw her things on the floor, a few of them on the chair. She was too tired; she wasn’t going to change. She dialled Veda’s phone but she didn’t pick up. It was only 10 p.m. anyway—no cause for worry.
Darya swallowed two sleeping pills instead of her usual one. Then, switching off the room’s lights, she climbed into bed.
The Darya Nandkarni Misadventures Omnibus: Books 1-3 Page 40
