Before he knew it, he had parked his car and was watching the two women walking towards the solicitor’s office. He considered staying in his car and watching – seeing who else entered the building for the reading of Jackpot’s will – but it was too hot, and more importantly, he had nothing to eat or drink. It was then that he spied Pinto’s, painted in yellow and white – an old Portuguese-style building converted into a couple of shops and a bar. He chose his seat, ordered a drink and two samosas and waited.
No one else appeared to enter the building. It would make sense from what he had heard and from what he knew from visiting Toem as a child. Jackpot had no other family. Chupplejeep thought back to all those years ago when Nana had brought him to the lake for the summer holidays. Jackpot, known only as Ranjit then, was the boatman he often saw on his holidays. Only the boatwalla had hair back then. He remembered now how the toothless man always had a smile for everyone – he had time for everyone too, and yes, he too had been an orphan. Chupplejeep remembered as a child looking up to the man, admiring his humour and good nature despite having no one to call mother and father. At one point, he wanted to be just like the ferryman. He had told Nana so, and she had smiled and put her hand on his cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment and could almost feel the warmth of her hand on his skin. How he missed her. She had been his true mother, not the woman who had abandoned him at the age of two. He snapped his eyes open. It wasn’t the time to think about that. Instead he pulled a paper napkin from the holder on his table and took a pen from his shirt pocket. On it he wrote: Ranjit Bhobe aka Jackpot.
Underneath he wrote no known extended family, although he made a mental note to check with Dilip later. Under that he wrote the word suspects and underlined it twice. Talika and Roshni were the first two on his list. They were the closest to him and could possibly benefit from his death. But then he realised those were the only suspects he had. That wasn’t good enough; that wasn’t the work of a first-class detective.
‘Sir?’ He heard a voice and looked up, covering the napkin with his hand. ‘Your samosas,’ a waiter said and placed the tin plate on his table. Chupplejeep thanked the waiter and looked over at the building he was keeping an eye on. He lifted one of the snacks to his mouth – he could almost taste the lightly spiced mutton and potato encased in the crisp pastry, and his mouth watered in anticipation – but as he opened his mouth to take a bite, he saw a short man in a black suit and dark sunglasses walk into the solicitor’s office – an assistant, or what looked to be an assistant, followed. Chupplejeep dropped his samosa back onto the plate. He had seen a picture of this man recently, but where, he could not remember. He took another sip of his drink, then it came to him. Dilip had shown him a brochure advertising the new hotel development at the lake. This man’s picture was on the back of the leaflet. The man was Nilesh Patel, the owner of Patel Developments.
Chupplejeep looked at the napkin he had scribbled on and smiled. It was often at the reading of the will that new suspects came to light.
~
Christabel made a quick exit after her class, mumbling an apology to Bhumika as she made her way out, her eyes fixed on her clasped hands in front of her. She was certain that Tim was watching her. He had told his friend he was going to make his move, and she wasn’t ready for that. She was only just coming to terms with the fact that this young foreigner liked her.
She hadn’t had enough time to prepare her response for when he asked her out. ‘I like her,’ he had said to his skinny blond friend. She felt her cheeks colour as she remembered his words. Did they not think she could hear them just because she was sitting behind them? Perhaps they thought she was in some deep meditative trance. Or maybe Tim had wanted her to hear him, so that his feelings were known, giving her time to prepare a response. She imagined him to be thoughtful like that. A strategy she herself would have employed if she were in the same position.
He was a thoughtful fellow, so it was a shame she had no intention of dating him. She would explain that she was already taken, let him down gently, perhaps over a cold coffee in the café at the retreat. She could plan for Arthur to meet her there an hour later. He would see her talking to Tim, jump to conclusions and in the process realise what a catch she was and that he couldn’t live without her.
The only problem she had with her cunning plan was when to execute it. They still had over a week left at the lake house, and she had to admit she quite liked the attention. If she told Tim of her feelings too soon, he would move on, maybe leave the retreat and go back to Anjuna or wherever it was he had travelled from. If he took the news badly, he could make a scene. She smiled at the thought. It would be nice if Bhumika was there to see it.
Once Christabel had left the yoga retreat, she slowed her pace. She had a spring in her step as she walked towards Arthur’s villa. It felt good to be fancied by someone other than one’s betrothed. Now she knew what it felt like to be one of those Bollywood actresses who had several suitors at the same time. No wonder some of these starlets thought they were better than they actually were. Now that she had experienced for herself how one could feel with just a little extra attention, she couldn’t blame them. A little bit of attention did wonders for the soul. But it also made you reckless with other people’s feelings. Before the class, she had promised Bhumika that she would go for a coffee with her after their special class, but in her bid to avoid Tim, she had dismissed her friend. Her only consolation was that Bhumika wouldn’t be completely alone for the evening. Her husband was in the area on business and she was meeting him for dinner. Wanting to leave the class quickly, Christabel had inadvertently agreed to a double date with Bhumika and her husband in a couple of days. She said that she would bring Arthur along. Arthur hated things like that, but she couldn’t cancel on her new friend twice. Arthur would just have to accompany her for the dinner. It was the least he could do.
Attention from the opposite sex also made you forgetful, Christabel thought as she looked at the small brown velvet pouch in her hand. Sneha had given one to each of her pupils in her special class. She peered inside and smiled. This was turning out to be an enjoyable holiday, an enjoyable holiday indeed.
~
Later that evening, when the sun had set and the student had left her room, Sneha retreated to her bathroom and turned on the shower. As steam began to fill the air, she picked up her mobile phone and entered a number. As she waited for Vadish to answer, she pulled off her fake eyelashes one by one, letting them fall into the white porcelain sink.
When the connection was made, she didn’t feel the need to wait for him to speak. There was no need for small talk anymore. It distressed her, passing on the package to that student.
‘It’s done,’ she said, before disconnecting the call. She shrugged off her white towelling robe and let it slip to the floor. She examined her body in the mirror. Once black-and-blue, she was now bruise free. She had to appreciate what Vadish had done for her. She stepped into the shower.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
‘Sir, have you seen any Braminy Kites soaring in the sky or a Southern Birdwing butterfly?’ Pankaj said into the receiver. ‘They’re common with their black, white and yellow wings. Sir, you must have seen one. If you see another, please take a picture for me.’
Chupplejeep sighed. ‘Yes, yes, perhaps I’ve seen one,’ he said. Although he doubted it. He had seen some large birds and some butterflies, but he had not taken much notice. Not like Pankaj would have. That boy loved nature, and he was glad of it, because he reminded him of the beauty around him that he often took for granted, but now was not the time for such discussions. ‘Pankaj, I didn’t call to talk about birds. How are things at the station? Inspector General Gosht expects me to keep an eye on you, and I can’t upset him, not when I need him to do me a favour. Also, I wanted to know how you were getting on with our new office assistant.’
‘Manju?’ Pankaj said, looking up at the desk that had been positioned between his and Chupplejeep’s. ‘He’s good, alt
hough he doesn’t have much to do at present, sir.’
‘Nothing to do? But there’s always something to do. Get him to start organising our filing system.’
‘But sir, I’d like to do that myself.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, sir. I’ve been meaning to put all our files in order. If you don’t mind me saying, the way our cases are currently ordered by year is not the most efficient. I thought I’d re-file our cases using the name of the victim as the reference point.’
Chupplejeep nodded. He had set out to do just that after he’d inherited the antiquated system from his predecessor, but since starting at the station in Larara, he had neither the time nor the inclination to do so.
‘Okay,’ he conceded, ‘but see that it gets done, and don’t let Manju sit idle for too long. You know what they say about idle hands.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘So tell me, have there been any crimes reported since I have been on leave?’ Chupplejeep asked.
‘Two, sir.’
‘Two?’ Chupplejeep said, his heart sinking a little. ‘Tell me more.’
‘Well, one case turned out to not be so much of a case after all, sir.’
‘How so?’
‘You know Gabrew from Village Panch?’
‘No,’ Chupplejeep said, frowning into the receiver. ‘I don’t know all the villagers individually,’ he added a little impatiently.
‘Sorry, sir. I just thought…never mind. Well, this Gabrew accused his neighbour of biting his hand.’
‘He did?’
‘I saw the wound, sir. It looked nasty.’
‘So you visited the accused? Questioned him?’
‘Of course.’
‘And?’
‘It turns out that Gabrew’s neighbour has no front teeth, so it would have been impossible for him to commit the crime he was accused of.’
‘Interesting.’
‘Indeed, sir. If you are going to falsely accuse someone, it is always best to check whether it is possible for them to actually commit the crime in the first place,’ Pankaj said, laughing.
‘What was Gabrew’s motivation behind the accusation?’ Chupplejeep didn’t know the man, so he didn’t pass judgement. People always had a reason for doing something. Even if it did not always make sense to him, it usually made sense to them.
‘Turns out he was trying to extract money from his neighbour and threatened him with the accusation in order to extort money from him.’
‘What does he need the money for?’ Chupplejeep asked, wondering if it was for a life-saving operation or some other emotional reason that had made this Gabrew temporarily lose his sanity.
‘For drink,’ Pankaj said.
‘Ah,’ Chupplejeep said. ‘And let me guess: he bit his own hand.’
‘Correct, sir.’
‘Are you going to charge him for wasting police time?’
‘Not this time, sir. But I told him to seek help for his alcohol addiction and gave him a leaflet for that group set up in the neighbouring village.’
Pankaj was doing just fine without him. ‘Speaking of alcoholics, I seem to have found myself involved with a case here, and I wanted to run some things past you.’
‘A homicide, sir? How exciting. You always attract exciting cases. Tell me.’
‘I will,’ Chupplejeep said, ‘but first tell me about your second case. You mentioned that two crimes were reported.’ Chupplejeep stood up from the grandfather chair that he had been sitting on. Sweat was trickling down his back and his t-shirt clung to his body. He walked over to the dial on the wall and increased the speed of the fan.
‘Ah, you know the Da Costas, they have a big house in Utol.’
‘Of course I know the Da Costas! Their driver was killed not so long ago. That was the first case we solved together.’ Chupplejeep looked up at the fan. It made no difference to the temperature of the room. He wiped the sweat off his face with a handkerchief from his trouser pocket.
‘That’s the one, sir. They’ve reported some items missing from their house.’
‘A burglary. You already know the staff at the house from the previous case. You could start with them first. Find out who has access to the house.’
‘Those staff have moved on, sir. Remember Utsa, sir? She did some ironing and mopping for the family. She married my good friend Sailesh.’
‘Against all odds, if I remember correctly. How are they doing?’
‘She’s expecting their first child.’
‘Aacha,’ said Chupplejeep, shaking off the shiver that ran down his spine. Marriage and children; that’s just what Christabel wanted. ‘Who reported the crime?’
‘The son of the house. He says there’s no evidence of a break-in, but two of his expensive foreign-made watches have gone missing.’
‘An inside job?’
‘That’s the thing. Mr Da Costa is convinced it’s not the staff. They don’t even have that many employees there now, as the family spend most of their time in the UK.’
‘So what does he think happened?’
‘He doesn’t know.’
‘And he hasn’t just misplaced them?’
‘He claims to be very particular with his things, and sir, I believe him. He was immaculately dressed, not a hair out of place. He looks like one of those fellows that counts the grains of rice on his spoon before eating them.’
There was a pause whilst Chupplejeep considered the case. He had many questions, and his mind was already conjuring up explanations for the missing watches, but this was a case for Pankaj to solve, and he was one of the smartest officers he had worked with.
‘Sir, I was thinking I would go and inspect the house – see exactly where the watches were last seen before interviewing the staff and Mr Da Costa again.’
Chupplejeep smiled. He could report back to Gosht and tell him that Pankaj was in control. ‘And you have my number if you want to run through anything,’ Chupplejeep said.
‘I have Manju,’ Pankaj said. ‘I can talk to him. Sir, I don’t want to bother you whilst you are on holiday. A well-deserved holiday.’
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Chupplejeep said, his heart sinking again. ‘Of course.’
‘Sir, now it’s your turn,’ Pankaj said. ‘Tell me about this case of yours.’
‘Oh yes,’ Chupplejeep said, his spirits lifting a little. ‘Let me tell you what I’ve been up to.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
‘You haven’t got much to go on, sir,’ Pankaj said. ‘Not many suspects either. The daughter, the wife or the property developer.’
Detective Chupplejeep rolled his eyes. ‘I haven’t telephoned you so that you can tell me what I already know. What I want to know is why the property developer was at the reading of the will.’
‘My uncle’s friend died recently, and he went along to the reading of the will even though he wasn’t mentioned in it.’
‘The last I checked, not just anyone could attend a reading.’
‘It depends on the solicitor. In this case, my uncle knew the solicitor involved, so he attended. He was curious to hear what had been left to whom.’
‘That sounds unethical.’
Pankaj shrugged. ‘That’s the way some of these solicitors are. And a big-shot developer could bribe any solicitor to attend.’
‘But if that’s the case, why’s this developer interested in Jackpot’s will, unless he’s hoping to benefit? I overheard two villagers talking soon after Jackpot’s death. They said Jackpot fought with a property developer. And if that is to be believed then it is likely there was some bad blood between the two. A motive for murder.’
‘And you said his bungalow is on the other side to the development, so it can’t be his bungalow that the developer wants.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Sir, if you like I can call the solicitor’s office and do some digging.’ Pankaj looked up at the yellowing clock on the wall of the police station. They had finally fixed the timepiece when their station
was awarded a budget for improvements. A fixed clock, newly painted walls and an office assistant called Manju were all items Pankaj and Chupplejeep had been grateful for. Now at least they looked professional when locals came into the station to report crimes.
‘I don’t want to put you out,’ Chupplejeep said. ‘Strictly speaking, this isn’t police business.’
‘Sir, I’ll do it. I want to help in any way that I can. And don’t worry, I won’t take my eye off the ball with the Da Costa case.’
It helped to share his thoughts with his most trusted officer. Pankaj, despite his daydreaming, had a sharp mind. If Chupplejeep was going to solve the case, he needed him on board.
‘If you ask me, sir, the wife is the most likely suspect,’ Pankaj said.
‘Talika was ready to accept her husband’s death as being natural, and when I told her I had no jurisdiction, she readily accepted it. She’s being cagey about the jewellery taken from her house in the alleged burglary, and the villagers overheard her fighting with Jackpot. Not to mention the scratch on her neck, and Kulkarni is sure he found skin cells in the scrapings from Jackpot’s nails. So you could be right, Pankaj. But what’s her motive? If she benefitted from Jackpot’s will then it may well have been her.’
‘Sir, from what you’ve just told me, there’s no case for you to solve. It sounds like Detective Kumar is never going to let you get involved.’
‘Not yet.’
‘He will?’
‘That’s why I need the favour from Gosht. I’ve spoken to him already.’
‘And?’
‘He doesn’t want to get involved, not at this stage, in any case. But he implied that if I find enough evidence of foul play and have concrete evidence of who the murderer is then he’ll take it up with the director general of police.’
‘So basically he wants you to solve the case without any support from him or the state and then he’ll take the glory when you do. But until then he doesn’t want to put his neck on the line.’
Jackpot Jetty Page 9
