How foolish he had been to feel threatened by Sofia. He took the spoon from her hand and examined it. ‘It’s pretty good,’ he said, turning it over before handing it back.
‘Whittling’s very calming,’ she said. Her accent was light, and it suited her. ‘In Germany, where I’m from, I learned this from my father. Not many people can use a flick knife, but that was all Papa used. Now I too follow in his footsteps.’
‘What do you want to talk about?’ Chupplejeep asked. It made sense now that when he met her previously she carried the faint aroma of teak oil.
‘Back in Germany, I lived far from any fluss, or how you say it – river or lake even, but like Papa, I carve best near the water, so I sit by the pond in the garden at night, listening to the frogs and the night creatures, and I take a piece of softwood, and mostly I make spoons. I find it relaxing.’
Sofia looked ethereal in her billowing white skirt and beige t-shirt, with her liquid brown eyes and wispy brown hair. A completely different person to the hysterical mess she had been the day she had discovered Erik on the beach, presumed dead. ‘That’s lovely,’ Chupplejeep said.
‘It is,’ she agreed. ‘It really is.’ Sofia looked into the distance, leaving Chupplejeep a little lost for words. Eventually he cleared his throat and she turned towards him. ‘If you ask at the retreat, they’ll say that Sofia, she is away with the elfen, the fairies, but I’m most certainly not,’ Sofia said, looking directly at the detective. ‘I don’t like it when people burden me with their problems. Everyone has problems, Detective, and everybody, well, almost everybody wants to share them. People like the sound of their own voices.’
Chupplejeep nodded, wondering if she too liked the sound of her own voice.
‘They think I’m eccentric, and that’s okay. I proved them right when I came in screaming when I saw that Scandinavian fellow on the beach. I should’ve known. The man is almost translucent when he is not passed out; no wonder he looked dead. But it’s suspicious, don’t you think, that he is still nowhere to be seen? It bothers me, Detective, and I can tell from your furrowed brow that it bothers you too. Which is why I have decided to come forward with some information.’
‘You have information on Jackpot’s death,’ he said, trying to hurry her along.
‘I’ve some information; use it how you will on whatever case you see fit.’
‘Earlier you asked me if I was working on the Jackpot case.’
‘That’s correct,’ Sofia said, seemingly not noticing the connection.
‘Why are you telling me and not Detective Kumar?’
‘I’ve been in India long enough to know that Kumar is not what he seems.’
‘How so?’
‘He isn’t a good detective. He does what he wants.’
Chupplejeep hesitated. Did Sofia know something about Kumar or was she just stating the obvious? ‘What’s this information you have?’
‘It concerns Ms Dhanjwant. Her and her many lovers.’
‘Ms Dhanjwant’s lovers?’ Chupplejeep asked.
‘She likes men, Detective. Is that not obvious? I’ve seen her flirting with you.’
Had he been the only one not to have noticed this? He was a detective, he picked up on subtleties. Yet when it came to his own relationships, especially those of the heart, he didn’t know much at all.
‘She has three, or at least three that I’ve seen. I know because I’ve seen her with them. She puts on a pretence that she’s this pure being, with a higher level of spiritual awareness, but she is the same as us, and she runs a decent retreat, even though some of the cakes are spiked with hash.’
‘Was Jackpot one of her lovers?’ he asked.
‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘I saw him enter her villa on more than one occasion. Her three lovers are very different. The second man I’ve seen her with is smart, wears a suit, looks like a proper businessman. A couple of weeks ago, when I arrived here, he was in and out of her villa all the time. But I haven’t seen him since the death of her first lover, the boatman. Now that tells me something.’
‘A suited man? Did you recognise him?’
Sofia shrugged. ‘I would know him if I saw him, but I couldn’t say who he was.’
Chupplejeep took his phone out of his pocket, tapped something on it and pulled up a website. With some difficulty, he enlarged an image on the website.
‘Was it, by any chance, this man?’ he said, holding up the screen for Sofia to see.
‘You’re one step ahead of me,’ she said. ‘I never forget a face.’
‘Curious,’ the detective said. It appeared the developer, Mr Patel, was a busy man. Sofia watched him as if waiting for an explanation, but Chupplejeep did not give her one. ‘And the third lover?’
‘Oh ya, the last man – a night creature, if you will. She’s discreet with this one, as he has never visited her at her villa. Instead they meet in the clearing to the south of the lake amongst the karanja trees, and only late at night when I occasionally come out for a walk.’
‘Ah,’ Chupplejeep said. ‘And who’s this night creature, as you put it?’
‘Vadish,’ Sofia said, loud and clear. ‘A drug dealer, amongst other things. But I expect you already know this about him.’
The same clearing where he had met the thug. It had been an odd place to meet; Chupplejeep had thought so at the time – was it his go-to place for his business meetings, or was it where he met his lovers as well? Vadish had an alibi for the night Jackpot was murdered, and Chupplejeep had wondered if this thug wanted to execute his own revenge on the person who had copied his uncle’s hallmark for murder. He was almost expecting another body to turn up following their meeting, but none had appeared… Well, not until Tim.
Had Tim had anything to do with Jackpot’s death? It was unlikely. But if Vadish was a drug dealer then it explained where Tim had got his drugs. No one he had spoken to had mentioned his drug peddling. Had his contacts not known or had they just failed to mention it because nearly every crook in Goa had a side-line selling some ganja here and there?
‘Vadish supplies our yogi with all the hash for her muffins and brownies. And it’s not just the soft stuff either.’
So Sneha could have given Tim the drug that killed him.
‘She certainly pointed her guests in the right direction if they were after something,’ Sofia said as if reading his mind.
‘How do you know all this?’
‘I’ve been coming to Goa for the last ten years. I stay here and there and I hear about people. I remember seeing that man, Vadish, years ago, selling on Baga beach. Two years ago he was the go-to man in Mapusa. Some friends I know use him as their supplier. Now I see him here with her. What else can it be?’
She had a point. Chupplejeep saw no need to tell her that he was a paid hitman as well. ‘And how do you think this relates to the case?’ he asked.
‘Isn’t it obvious? Erik was drugged out of his head that day on the beach. I wouldn’t have presumed he was dead otherwise. And there’s a known drug dealer working and sleeping with Sneha. I saw Erik leaving Sneha’s room the day before he was found on the beach. At first I thought maybe he was a fourth lover, but then I thought maybe not. The connection’s obvious to me. Erik and that dopey-eyed Tim were as thick as thieves. Erik was like Tim’s guru. I find it very odd that one is missing and the other suddenly dies. There’s a connection between the two incidents, I’m sure of it.’
Chupplejeep gave a slight nod of the head. It was a logical conclusion, one that he himself had made. But what he found most interesting was the clear identification of Sneha’s suited lover.
‘There’s one more thing that I want to tell you,’ Sofia said. ‘Something I heard about the last time I was in Mapusa. The story was horrific, one I will never forget. In fact, part of me thought it was not true. But when I came to the retreat, I saw a face. The scar was no longer visible, not to someone not looking for it, but I knew, and it prompted a memory.’
‘Whose face?’
/> ‘Sneha’s. Sneha Dhanjwant, but that wasn’t her name then.’
‘Go on,’ Chupplejeep said, listening with intrigue. Sofia told him what she knew.
Chupplejeep felt exhausted when Sofia had finished. He thanked her for her time and for coming forward with the information. She sauntered off the jetty in the direction of the retreat.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Christabel disconnected her call and made a face. ‘Bhumika’s husband has work, important work. Dinner tonight is cancelled.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ Chupplejeep said.
‘Don’t pretend to look upset,’ she said. ‘It’s just been postponed for a couple of days, that’s all.’
Christabel fiddled with the ends of her curls. Yesterday she had heard Arthur on the phone to Kulkarni talking about Tim’s death, and she was sure she heard the word poison. Her mind raced. She had been trying to make her boyfriend jealous so he would realise her worth, but what if she had inadvertently caused Tim’s death? What if Arthur was so jealous he had done something stupid, something as stupid as poisoning Tim? It would explain why he looked so unconcerned by her dinner date.
Christabel shook her head. She had been watching too many soap operas, creating drama where there was none. Arthur was not the murdering kind. He couldn’t even kill a mouse, whereas she had no problem stamping on one with her foot if need be. She had seen her boyfriend remove rodents and other pests from his house in a humane way, a way that had made her mother question if he was suitable husband material. It was nice to imagine, though, what one would do for love, and before she knew it, she had opened her mouth and words were falling out.
She walked up to Arthur, fiddled with the hair at the nape of his neck and asked, ‘Arthur, say a man had his eye on me and you were jealous; what would you do?’
‘Pfff, what kind of question is that?’ he said, turning and looking towards her. He kissed her cheek and turned back to his paper.
Christabel scowled. ‘So what you’re saying is that another man would never fancy me?’
Chupplejeep looked up from his paper, bewildered. ‘Did I say that?’
‘You wouldn’t do anything to harm anyone, would you?’
‘You’re like a crossword,’ Chupplejeep said.
‘What have crosswords got to do with anything?’
‘You’re being very cryptic.’
Christabel sighed. ‘You didn’t think that Tim liked me?’
Chupplejeep’s eyes widened. It was clear that this was news to him. ‘That young boy? He did?’
She felt foolish. Arthur was as ignorant as he appeared. So much for being a detective. She cleared her throat. ‘Of course,’ she said. She had to, to save face. Even though Tim had confessed to liking Sneha all along.
Arthur looked at her with interest.
‘What?’ she said, trying to ignore the guilty feeling that was creeping up on her. She folded her arms across her chest. ‘I heard him talking to his friend. He said he was going to ask me out,’ she started. That much was true. Sort of.
‘That’s why you went for dinner with him,’ Chupplejeep said. ‘That makes sense.’
‘Y-yes,’ Christabel said, with some hesitation.
Chupplejeep put his paper down. ‘Did he ask you out? It’s important.’
She shook her head.
‘But he said he fancied you? He mentioned you by name.’
Arthur had no intention of humiliating her, she knew that. He was just trying to figure something out, maybe to do with the boy’s death. ‘He didn’t mention my name, no, but at the time it was clear it was me he was talking about. I just nipped it in the bud early and asked him for dinner before he got the chance. I never liked him that way,’ she said, her words tumbling out. ‘I just wanted to let him down gently.’
‘And he was flirting with you over dinner?’ Chupplejeep said.
‘Not really,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘He just talked and talked about himself. He was very dull. But at the time I thought it was impossible that he fancied anyone else in our class.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘In our classes he had been looking over at me and smiling. He didn’t notice Bhum, and the only other woman in the class is very severe-looking, and anyway, she attends the class with her husband. How could he ask her out with her husband there?’ Christabel narrowed her eyes. ‘I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking he fancied that woman.’
‘By that woman you mean Sneha Dhanjwant?’
‘I thought he couldn’t have asked her out because she was going out with his friend. The tall, skinny one.’
‘Erik?’
‘Very good, you pretty much know everyone in my class.’
‘You’re sure of this.’
‘I saw them sharing a look. I saw her mouth something to him during the quiet time in our class. It was obvious.’
‘I see,’ Chupplejeep said.
Christabel decided it was best to end the conversation there before she was really made to look a fool. She turned on her heel and walked into the kitchen.
~
Chupplejeep pulled the rose quartz pendant out of his pocket and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. Sneha and Tim; it was an interesting combination, almost as interesting as Sneha and Jackpot. Tim’s untimely death was starting to make sense, and he had Christabel to thank for that.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
It had been a long day. Sofia had given him a shock, wielding her flick knife at him, but he was glad she had sought him out. She had given him some invaluable information. Now he approached the yoga retreat with trepidation. Sneha Dhanjwant was a calculating woman. As he walked into the retreat, through the glass panels he noticed she was outside, sitting under a betel tree. In light green harem pants and a similar-coloured vest, he almost didn’t see her. She was chameleon-like, Chupplejeep mused, wondering if her personality followed a similar suit.
He walked through the lobby through the rear glass doors of the retreat. As he approached, he noticed Sneha’s eyes were closed. Either meditating or thinking of her next move. He stood next to her and watched for a moment.
‘What is it that you want now, Detective?’ she asked.
Chupplejeep took a step back. She hadn’t opened her eyes, yet she knew it was him. He asked her how.
‘You have a distinctive gait and an aroma.’
‘An aroma?’ Chupplejeep asked. He was tempted to sniff his armpits but refrained.
‘Don’t be worried,’ she said, her eyes still closed. ‘Most people wouldn’t know you have a distinctive smell of tulsi or that you walk with a heavy left foot. The heaviness is probably down to a misalignment in your body. You probably have a little lower back pain from time to time as well.’
‘You can tell all that from listening to my footsteps.’
‘I’m mindful, Detective, and that’s what mindfulness teaches us. It shows us to be present. To listen deeply and attentively. Most people are not listening, they are thinking up their response as the other person is speaking. When you’re mindful, you don’t listen just to respond, you listen to understand.’
‘Aacha,’ Chupplejeep said, but ironically he had stopped listening to her. He was thinking of how best to approach the subject of Tim’s death and Erik’s disappearance, because after what Christabel and Sofia had said, he was certain that the two events were linked.
‘Have I answered your questions, Detective?’
‘Please call me Arthur. I didn’t come here to talk to you about the art of being a good listener. I came here to talk to you about drugs and another delicate matter.’
She opened her eyes and stared at him.
‘You’ve quite a lax view on drugs here, I gather. It’s rumoured that some of the teas and cakes are spiked,’ he said. He had asked Christabel whether this rumour was true, and a strange expression crossed her face. ‘I’ve been foolish,’ she said eventually. ‘I knew there was something wrong with those treats. I felt so light-heade
d after eating them; my thoughts were all over the place. No wonder they’re so expensive.’
‘You shouldn’t believe everything you hear,’ she said dryly.
‘I’m not really interested in your hash cakes and hallucinogenic teas, although from what I’ve heard, what you’re doing is highly unethical and illegal.’
‘If you’re not interested then why do you want to talk to me about drugs?’
‘When we found Erik on the beach, it was clear he was stoned, but you didn’t really want to believe it.’
‘What my guests do in their own time is their business.’
‘And what about your business of drug peddling?’
‘Ha! In case you haven’t noticed Arthur, this is Goa! You’ll find a peddler on every street corner and willing victims too.’ Sneha stood up and stretched her arms up to the sky, then she bent at the waist, placing her palms flat on the grass. Slowly she clasped her hands together and pulled them out in front of her before she straightened herself and adjusted her trousers.
‘Ah, willing victims,’ Chupplejeep said. ‘An interesting choice of words.’
‘I don’t like sugar-coating things. I say it like it is.’
‘And were Tim and Erik willing victims?’
Sneha looked sideways at the detective. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Tim and Erik were in your class for a reason, a specific reason.’
‘Have you been drinking hallucinogenic tea?’
‘You told me the reasons that the two boys were in your special class, but I don’t quite believe you. You chose them because you had plans for them. You wanted them to be guinea pigs for a new type of drug. A drug that cures impotency, but with an added side effect of a high, similar to MDMA.’
Sneha was silent, but the silence was broken by girls laughing. Chupplejeep turned to see two girls giggling as they walked through the lush grounds. He turned back to Sneha. Her face was blank. ‘This wasn’t an ordinary setup for you.’
Jackpot Jetty Page 19
