‘The tests show Tim didn’t have any pre-existing heart conditions. He wasn’t on any nitroglycerin medication. But he had recently taken a recreational drug – an alkyl nitrite, which has the same adverse effect when teamed up with sildenafil citrate. The nitrite lowers the blood pressure, as does the sildenafil citrate. The result is deadly. Whoever sold or gave Tim the drugs should have warned him about taking the two together, but these dealers, most of them, don’t care. That or he used two different dealers.’
Chupplejeep thanked Kulkarni for his time. Once again, he had gone out of his way to help him, and he owed him. After he disconnected the call, instead of going home, he walked over to the jetty. What Kulkarni said made sense and yet it didn’t. Who had sold Tim the drugs? And had the same person sold him the nitrite and the Viagra without warning him of the consequences of taking the drugs together? Had this drug peddler planned for the outcome or was it just an unfortunate accident? And why would Tim take Viagra before a yoga class? Did he even know what the drug was for, or had it been given to him under a different guise?
He slipped his phone back into his pocket and pulled out Jackpot’s rose quartz pendant, which he now always carried with him. He held it up to the light and took a good look at it. He had thought he was getting close to the answer, but it felt like he was getting further from the truth. He turned to walk back to his villa. The sun was setting, and Christabel would be waiting for him to start dinner. But as he turned, he saw a figure standing at the end of the jetty, staring at him. He instinctively straightened his posture and started walking towards it. Then he noticed it was a she, and she was holding a knife.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Pankaj pulled up outside Da Costa’s house. The confidence he had felt just an hour ago was quickly fading, and he wished he had asked Manju to come with him. But the last thing he wanted was for Mr Da Costa to belittle him for bringing the office assistant along.
Before he had left the station, he had called his best friend, Sailesh, who had recently married the girl of his dreams, Utsa, against his mother’s wishes. It was Utsa he was after. She had been working at the Da Costa house when the pair had met, and now he wanted some information from her. She confirmed his suspicions – no matter how private Mr Da Costa was, there was little you could keep from a housemaid. They knew everything. Pankaj may not have had any informants, but he had a network of people who made it their business to know everyone’s goings-on for the sheer pleasure of having a good gossip.
He got out of the car and pressed the doorbell, stepping towards the wrought-iron gates. He looked up at the roof and then lowered his gaze to the floor below. Mr Da Costa stood on the balcony, staring back at him. Ekanta came to the front door. She stared at him through the gates with little beady eyes but didn’t say anything.
‘I’d like to see Mr Da Costa.’
Ekanta nodded and disappeared into the house, reappearing a few minutes later with a key in her hand. ‘He’ll see you upstairs, in his office,’ she said as she opened the gate. Pankaj walked through, following Ekanta, slowly ascending the two flights of stairs. When Pankaj saw the framed picture of Mr and Mrs Da Costa on their wedding day, he stopped. He carefully examined the picture until he heard Ekanta clear her throat. Standing two steps ahead of him, she was staring at him as if he had two heads. He turned back towards her, and she carried on walking. Taking one last glance at the picture, he continued behind her. When they got to the top floor, he asked if there was any access to the roof.
‘There is no access,’ she said coldly, stopping outside Mr Da Costa’s room. Ekanta offered him a drink, which he refused, and then she left, disappearing back down the stairs. He knocked. He expected Mr Da Costa to summon him in, but instead he opened the door and stood there, studying Pankaj. His palms began to perspire, and his mouth felt dry.
‘I hope you’ve some good news for me,’ Mr Da Costa said eventually.
Pankaj coughed. ‘I have news,’ he said. ‘Whether or not it is good, I cannot say.’ He held his head up high, his hands clasped behind his back.
Mr Da Costa rolled his eyes. ‘If you haven’t come here to tell me who’s caused me such distress then I don’t want to know what else you might have to say. Are you here for coffee and cake and a friendly chat?’ Mr Da Costa asked. He peered down his nose at Pankaj, but Pankaj held his gaze. Mr Da Costa had wanted a detective inspector to investigate his case, not a lowly officer. Pankaj knew that if he let him deter him now then Mr Da Costa wouldn’t listen to what he had to say, and Pankaj was certain that what he was about to say would leave him speechless.
‘I know who has taken your watches, sir,’ Pankaj said. ‘But whether or not it is good news will be for you to decide.’
‘Go on then,’ Mr Da Costa said. ‘Spit it out. I don’t have time to listen to your dramas.’
Pankaj wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but suddenly Mr Da Costa seemed slightly nervous. He sat down and motioned for Pankaj to do the same.
Pankaj took his notepad out of his pocket and looked at it. He didn’t need his notes; he knew exactly what he wanted to say and he had practised on the ride over, but now that he was sitting with the aggrieved, his words wouldn’t come.
‘I haven’t got all day, man,’ Mr Da Costa said.
‘I know who has taken your watches,’ Pankaj started.
‘You’ve already said that.’
Pankaj took a breath. ‘We also know that these two watches are for sale, for half their value.’
‘Half their value? Where are they? Why haven’t you apprehended the man?’
Pankaj put his hand out, palm facing outwards to calm Mr Da Costa. ‘That’s exactly it, sir. It isn’t a man, but a woman who’s selling the watches.’
Mr Da Costa frowned and then looked away, shaking his head, but Pankaj had noticed a look of recognition in the man’s eyes. It was there for just a moment; anyone else would have missed it, but Pankaj had been looking for it, and now that he had seen it, he had the confidence to continue.
Pankaj stood up. ‘Your watches went missing from a locked drawer, from a room with only one access point. The same access point you were standing outside. Sounds incredible, and you know, sir, I really thought it was. How could this happen, I thought. It’s impossible, but it seems the impossible was possible. Very much possible.’
He continued, ‘I was thinking about what you said, that you were talking to your mother when the watches were taken, and sir, forgive me for saying this, but I think you were lying.’
Mr Da Costa looked away. ‘Why would I lie? Those watches have been taken from me. Don’t turn this back on me because you can’t do your job properly. Where is your superior?’
‘I am doing my job, which is how I came to believe that you were not talking to your mother like you said.’
‘Who was I talking to then?’
‘Sir, you were talking to your mistress,’ Pankaj said, the word mistress nearly catching in his throat.
‘What?’ Mr Da Costa said, but his eyes would not meet Pankaj’s and so he continued. ‘We have prints. The prints you were so keen for us to take. We found prints from all of the staff and yourself and one other set. They look to be a set belonging to a young woman. My guess is that if we ask Miss Veda Chadha to come to the station to give us a copy of her prints, we’ll find that they match.’
Pankaj saw Mr Da Costa’s mouth fall open. He quickly closed it and regained his composure.
‘Veda Chadha is your mistress, the one you have been seeing for some years now,’ Pankaj said, recalling his conversation with Utsa, Da Costa’s ex-housemaid. She had known all about his extra-marital affairs, like a good housemaid would. When Manju said that the woman selling the watches was hot, it had all started to make sense. Mrs Da Costa certainly did not look hot in her wedding photo, and that had been seventeen years ago. She didn’t even come close to what one would call hot. Now, seventeen years later, he very much doubted she would look better than on the day of her wedding. It
made sense then that this hot lady selling the watches was Mr Da Costa’s lover. The text that he had seen must have been from her and not his wife as he had assumed. He hadn’t stopped to look at the name that had flashed up with the message. But one call to Utsa was all that it took to confirm that Mr Da Costa was indeed having an affair.
‘I’m guessing you called this relationship off recently,’ Pankaj continued. ‘I can’t say I know the ins and outs of your liaison, but my understanding is that Veda was getting a little too clingy. She wanted more from you, and you had no intention of divorcing your wife.’
‘I can’t see what this has to do with the watches,’ Da Costa said quietly.
‘So you’re confirming that you were on the phone to her, and not your mother, when the watches were taken?’ Pankaj asked. He remembered how Mr Da Costa was embarrassed when he said he was speaking to his mother. At the time he thought it strange; now he knew why. He wasn’t embarrassed because he had been talking to his mother, he was embarrassed at having to cover up his conversation with his mistress by using his mother as an excuse.
‘What difference does that make?’ Mr Da Costa said as he turned down the temperature of the air conditioner, the whir of the unit drowning out any sound from outside. Pankaj wished he had brought a jumper.
‘It makes all the difference.’
‘If Veda was on the phone to me, she couldn’t have taken the watches.’
‘Veda called you at that specific time knowing you would take the call outside your study, because she knew that the mobile phone reception in your office was bad. She also knows you well enough to know that you like order to your day, so at ten o’clock in the morning on any given working day you would be in your office.’
‘And?’
‘And while you were on the phone to her, outside your office, with the spring closer having closed the office door, someone was gaining access to the drawer where your watches are kept.’
Da Costa laughed. ‘And how did they do that? You’ve seen there is no other access to the room. I would like to hear you explain this.’
‘There’s no access to the room from this floor, yes, but there is access from the roof.’
‘You’re mistaken. There is no access to the roof and no access to the drawer.’
‘But there is a water tank up there, no?’ he said. ‘I’ve seen it. In fact, all the big houses here have water tanks on the roof, and there is a sky dish also. How did it get there if there is no access?’
‘A ladder, but…’ Mr Da Costa trailed off. Pankaj saw a look of realisation in his eyes.
‘The ladder that was recently put up to fix the wall light outside your office. You mentioned it when I came to inspect the property. The ladder had been removed by the time I came to visit, but it was there when your watches were taken. When you mentioned the wall light, I didn’t think the light was on an external wall. But today I noticed that there are lights all around the outside of your property at the highest level.’
‘But still, that doesn’t explain access to this room. You saw for yourself the windows have fixed grilles, and there was no sign of tampering.’
‘That is because the perpetrator did not gain access from the window.’
‘So where did they gain access?’
Pankaj walked to the middle of the room and looked up, then he looked down to the floor before turning to Mr Da Costa. ‘The culprit came in from the roof.’
‘The roof?’
‘Remember the tile dust on the floor? You mentioned the nesting birds, and when I spoke to Ashok, the gardener, he told me that the only thing strange to happen on the day of the burglary was that the usually quiet nesting birds were flying about, making a noise. It was unusual enough for him to mention it, and so it got me thinking. These birds were disturbed, and the only way they would be distressed was if something or someone had bothered them. The perpetrator gained access to the room from the roof. By carefully removing the roof tiles and slipping through the beams, the person accessed the room, used the copy of the key they had to open the drawer and slyly took the watches. Simple.’
‘And Veda had the key. She must have taken a copy from my spare. She knew where I kept it; she could have taken it at any time.’
Pankaj nodded.
‘She orchestrated the burglary, but she didn’t do her own dirty work,’ he said with clenched fists. ‘Who did she get to do it for her?’
‘Ekanta and Fulki were out of the house when the burglary took place. Vaayu was supposedly thirty miles away in his village, which leaves Ashok here, watering the plants.’
‘But I saw Ashok when I was on the phone. He couldn’t have been taking the watches and watering the plants at the same time.’ Da Costa looked up at Pankaj, waiting for his answer.
‘No, he couldn’t, and he was by the gate, so he would see anyone coming in or leaving the premises.’
Mr Da Costa nodded. ‘You’re right. He would.’
‘The walls are too high to scale, and the broken glass on the top is a good, albeit vicious, deterrent. I’ve been making enquiries, and it seems to me that one of your staff is lying, but which one? Several market-goers saw Ekanta and Fulki buying fresh produce. And like you said, one doesn’t like the other, so they are not going to cover for each other. Vaayu, on the other hand, was not in his village for long. He certainly went home, but on speaking to some of the locals from his village, I learned he left a day earlier than the day he resumed work here, which I believe was the day after the watches went missing. Also, he would know about the broken lights and availability of the ladder, given he lived on your premises. My guess is that he did come back a day early, possibly at a time when he knew Ashok would be busy in some other part of the house, and he snuck back in, hiding in his room, until it was time. You saw Ashok at the front of the house. The ladder was at the rear of the house, where the broken light was. Ashok would not have been able to see it from where he was, and Ekanta and Fulki were out of the house, so the coast was completely clear.’
‘I wasn’t gone for long,’ Mr Da Costa said, a little defeated.
‘The ladder would have been placed against the wall away from the window so you could not see it, and you would not have heard any movement over the constant hum of the air conditioning unit. Someone skinny like Vaayu could easily slip between the rafters once the roof tiles were removed. He may have already been in the roof, waiting for your phone to ring, and for you to step out, so he could quickly carry out his operation. She must have offered him a handsome sum to take the watches.’
Mr Da Costa looked at Pankaj, not down at him, but as an equal. ‘That’s a lot of effort to go to. Why didn’t she ask him to take them when I was out of the house.’
‘My guess is that she knew how ordered you like everything and she wanted to hurt you as well as show you that life isn’t always black and white, that there are grey areas too. What better way to make you see that than to make the impossible possible?’
Mr Da Costa put his head in his hands, then slowly raised his head. ‘You’ve done a great job, Officer. I’m sorry I behaved so badly before,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to press charges though.’
‘You don’t?’
‘Vaayu’s worked here for years,’ Mr Da Costa said. ‘My wife hired him.’
Pankaj understood. Vaayu was loyal to Mrs Da Costa; perhaps he too wanted some kind of revenge.
‘And Veda, well, she’s my problem.’
Pankaj nodded. He walked out of the room, the door closing softly behind him. He took a breath, happy with the outcome. A crime had been committed, and he had solved it, even if the wronged party hadn’t wanted to press charges in the end. He felt a little proud of himself for assembling the jigsaw, and he smiled at his minor victory. But as he walked down the steps, out of the house and towards his vehicle, his own words rang in his head. Life wasn’t black and white; there were grey areas too, and he realised now that he was in a grey area with Shwetika.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
She stood with a flick knife in her right hand. The tip of the blade was lightly touching the palm of her left. Chupplejeep walked towards her.
‘I wanted to speak with you, Detective,’ she said. ‘I knew I would find you here.’
‘You did,’ he said, not taking his eyes off the knife. ‘And why’s that?’ he asked, trying to keep his tone casual. He hadn’t expected to see her here, and that too with a knife. Was there something in Jackpot or Tim’s death that he had missed? The first time he saw her she had been hysterical; the last time he saw her she had been emotional. Now she looked calm and collected. A woman with purpose.
‘You’re investigating Jackpot’s death, aren’t you?’ she asked. She didn’t give him time to answer. ‘I know you are.’
Chupplejeep stopped a foot away from her. She didn’t move. ‘Well then,’ he said. ‘How can I help?’
She laughed a deep laugh. Slowly she closed the flick knife and then released it again. The blade shot out, catching the sunlight and distorting Chupplejeep’s vision.
He held his hand up to shield his eyes. ‘Can you put that away?’
She looked at the knife in her hand as if just realising it was there. ‘Oh, this,’ she said. ‘Sorry. I’ll do as you ask.’ She slipped the knife into the pocket of her voluminous white skirt and smiled. Her hand remained with the knife in her pocket.
‘Sofia, right?’ Chupplejeep said, extending his hand, hoping that she would do the same, leaving the knife where it was.
She nodded, and shook his hand with her left.
‘Why are you walking around Toem Place with a flick knife?’
‘Oh, this,’ she said again. She removed her right hand from her pocket with the knife clasped tightly in her fist, as if the two were welded together. She looked at him. ‘I’m a wood whittler,’ she said. She swiftly slipped her other hand into the left pocket of her skirt and retrieved a wooden spoon. ‘It’s surprising what you can do with just a flick knife, if you’ve got the know-how, that is.’ She laughed again, but this time her laughter was light, and Chupplejeep laughed too.
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