Jackpot Jetty

by Marissa de Luna

  ‘I find it odd that she was a good friend of Jackpot’s.’

  ‘She claims she met him when she was checking out the area before she set up the retreat. Patel had told her about the place, and she wanted to speak to a local. It was then that she befriended the boatwalla. She was kind to him, and he turned to her in his hour of need. She said that before his death he had become a spiritual person; he even wore the rose quartz crystal. It was supposed to bring his wife back to him; instead Talika ridiculed him for wearing it, according to the locals. Sneha did say something interesting though, something that made me think. She said that Jackpot would always say that we must forget about the past and live in the present. Apparently he would say this over and over again. I think it has something to do with his inheritance.’

  ‘That makes sense.’

  ‘It does.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Pankaj said, biting his lower lip. ‘It’s why I called. I completely forgot.’

  Chupplejeep looked at his watch. ‘We’ve been talking for well over half an hour.’

  ‘It’s worth the wait, Detective,’ Pankaj said, slipping his mobile phone into his pocket. He was so bewildered about his love life, he had forgotten to give his boss the information he needed.

  ‘Go on then,’ Chupplejeep said. ‘Tell me.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Chupplejeep stood up and loosened his collar, his phone still pressed to his ear. ‘So you’re telling me Jackpot’s mother left him the properties.’

  ‘I have the paperwork here. Ms Ajuha left the properties to Jackpot; we know that from the information I got from the solicitor’s secretary. The officer I know in Delhi did some digging. He emailed me with all his findings. It turns out that she was his mother. Do you want me to verify the information?’

  ‘No need. Jackpot was an orphan. Dilip reminded me of it the other day. I didn’t think anything of it because there are many orphans about the place. I’m an orphan.’

  ‘It’s true,’ Pankaj said. ‘From what my contact has told me though, this Ms Ajuha came from one of the big families in Toem Place. They pretty much owned the entire area of land surrounding the lake.’

  ‘I remember when we were children, Nana used to tell us about a family that owned the surrounding land. They lived in the large house on the hill, above the lake. From the lake, you can just about see the terrace, but the trees are overgrown now. They slowly sold off pieces of land around the lake, as and when they needed the money.’

  ‘Turns out that one of the daughters of this family had an affair with one of the office staff. She fell pregnant and was banished to her bedroom until the baby arrived. Sir, that’s how they were in those days.’

  ‘Pankaj, some families still behave in that way. Modern India is not so modern in many parts.’

  ‘Well, anyway, sir,’ Pankaj continued. ‘When the baby was born, her parents paid one of the local families to take the baby.’

  ‘A local family. Why didn’t they pay off the father of the child? That way the child could have at least stayed with one of its parents.’

  ‘The father’s family lived far from Toem Place. I think they were living in Apora. And the daughter who had borne the child was hysterical when they suggested that the boy live with his father. She wanted to be able to see the child regularly. She screamed and cried until her parents agreed to give the child to a local family. They gave the family one of the lakeside properties in which to bring up the child. But they made their daughter promise never to speak to the family or the baby. This way she could see her son growing up without any shame being brought onto the family.’

  ‘That was risky, having the family live so close.’

  ‘It was, but maybe her parents were not monsters after all.’

  ‘Still, it must have been a living hell for her to see her son and not be able to talk to him,’ Chupplejeep said. He felt a tug on his heartstrings. His parents had left him without looking back. Ms Ajuha punished herself every day for giving up her boy by watching him from a distance as he grew into a man.

  ‘Ms Ajuha died recently and left the eight villas to her son.’

  Chupplejeep was silent for a moment. ‘Her only son?’

  ‘Let me see,’ said Pankaj, shuffling some papers. ‘This is odd,’ he said eventually. ‘I think there must have been some kind of mistake.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ Chupplejeep wondered if it would be quicker for him to drive back to the station to have a look at the information himself. Or he could use the technology he had and ask Pankaj to forward the paperwork through on his email. He was about to ask Pankaj to do so when his colleague started to speak.

  ‘In one place it says clearly that Ms Ajuha was Jackpot’s mother. These details are noted by the solicitor, and a close friend of hers was a witness too. She was worried her will would be contested, you see.’

  ‘And was it?’

  ‘Was what?’

  ‘Was her will contested?’

  ‘No, sir. But they tried.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Her sons, her other sons.’

  ‘So Jackpot wasn’t her only child. Who are her other sons? What are their names?’

  Pankaj seemed to ignore Chupplejeep’s question. ‘But here in this will she is not a Ms Ajuha. She was an Ajuha before she got married. There has been a mistake. When she married she changed her last name, so when she died her name, her family name, was…’

  ‘What, what was it?’

  ‘Patel,’ Pankaj said. ‘She was a Patel.’

  ~

  ‘Pankaj, I could kiss you,’ Chupplejeep said. Pankaj’s cheeks flushed at the other end of the phone. He didn’t have informants like Manju, but he had legitimate contacts in the police force. Ones that would go to extra lengths to make him look good in front of his boss.

  ‘Those properties that our developer Mr Patel needs in order to complete his hotel, he believes they’re rightfully his. That’s why he designed the hotel with them in mind.’

  ‘His mother was dying when his plans were approved for the hotel,’ Pankaj said.

  ‘And they included the land that Jackpot’s villas stand on. It’s why he never considered expanding his hotel on the other side, the side of the yoga retreat.’

  ‘Maybe he never shared the plans with his mother, sir.’

  ‘Or maybe he did but she didn’t want to disclose that he had a brother out there somewhere. Although it’s more likely that she didn’t want to tell him his inheritance would be halved because of an affair she had when she was young.’

  ‘So she let him carry on with his plans, knowing she would die soon and that all would be revealed in the will.’

  ‘Ms Ajuha or Mrs Patel’s will mentions that a personal letter would be sent to Jackpot, explaining his inheritance.’

  ‘So Jackpot received a solicitor’s letter with an enclosed personal letter from his biological mother, telling him that he was now a very rich man. And that he had a mother who had watched him grow up from a stately home on top of the hill, across the lake. No wonder he was looking for spiritual guidance,’ Chupplejeep said.

  ‘And he never told his wife any of this? What a weight to carry. So Mr Patel believed those properties were rightfully his, not some brother’s he had never heard of. There’s your motive, right there, sir. And from what Sneha said, he knows Kumar well. That’s why Kumar has tried to sweep Jackpot’s death under the carpet. He’s helping his friend.’

  ‘Which means Sneha is lying as well, sir. If Patel killed Jackpot, she couldn’t have been with him when Jackpot was killed. She’s covering for him too.’

  ‘One second,’ Chupplejeep said to Pankaj. ‘Someone’s just slipped an envelope under the door.’ He hurried to open the door and saw a young boy with a pile of similar envelopes running down the path towards the next villa along.

  He stood on the veranda and picked up the ornate envelope in red and yellow with gold glitter. He pulled a card out of it. ‘Pankaj, are you there?’ he said.

>   ‘Yes, sir. I’m still here. What is it?’ he said. ‘Is it something sinister?’

  ‘Sinister? Well, that depends.’

  ‘Why? What is it?’

  ‘Roshni is getting married.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  ‘Cooee,’ Chupplejeep heard someone shout from the far end of the restaurant. ‘Christabel, coeee,’ came the shrill voice again. The voice was quickly followed by a face and a body pushing its way through the crowded restaurant. Chupplejeep assumed this was the larger-than-life Bhumika. With her gummy smile and wide stature, she looked the overly friendly sort, the sort Chupplejeep avoided. She stuck out her hand and leaned forward to kiss him on both cheeks.

  ‘You must be Arthur,’ she said. ‘What a pleasure it is to meet you. Christabel,’ she said, greeting her friend with a hug. ‘Looking lovely in that pink satin. Follow me,’ she said, pushing her way past waiters and customers to get to their table. She pointed to a table and then took a seat at one end, motioning to the two empty seats opposite.

  ‘Finally, I get to meet you. Christabel has told me so much about you,’ Chupplejeep said as he sat down. He quickly ordered a beer for himself and a glass of wine for Christabel as a waiter passed.

  ‘My husband has just gone to the toilet. He’ll be back any moment now. I hope you don’t mind we’ve ordered some starters already. We got here a little early, and I tell you, I was famished.’

  ‘Not a problem,’ Christabel said. Their drinks arrived, and Chupplejeep took a large sip of his Kingfisher. He hadn’t wanted to come to this dinner. It was a waste of his time. Just before they had left their villa, he had complained to Christabel of a stomach ache, which she had seen right through. She had subsequently given him one of those looks that told him he was already on thin ice. He had to admit it was a cheap shot, but he really hadn’t been in the mood to meet this energetic woman Christabel had been taken with. He looked at Bhumika – her cheeks flushed, with a thin film of sweat on her upper lip – and could only imagine what her husband was like. He caught himself letting out a sigh and quickly turned it into a cough. He was sure they were a lovely couple, but he was not in the mood for making small talk. He took another large sip of his drink.

  ‘Ah,’ Bhumika said. ‘Here he comes now.’

  Chupplejeep reluctantly turned around in the direction that Bhumika was looking and nearly spat out his mouthful of beer.

  ‘Are you oaky?’ Christabel asked, putting her hand on Arthur’s back.

  Chupplejeep cleared his throat. ‘Y-yes, yes,’ he stuttered, trying to hide his shock. Bhumika’s husband was no other than Mr Patel, the developer he had been trying to get hold of for weeks; Sneha’s lover and, after speaking to Pankaj, the prime suspect for Jackpot’s murder.

  Mr Patel approached the table and took his seat as the detective introduced himself. He clearly didn’t know who Chupplejeep was. Why would he – he knew him only as Arthur, Christabel’s boyfriend.

  Chupplejeep couldn’t help but laugh. No wonder Sneha had included Bhumika in her class. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Sneha was as shrewd as a fox.

  ‘Something funny?’ Christabel said, giving him a stern look.

  ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of Nilesh for over a week now.’

  Bhumika smiled. ‘My Nilesh, why’s that?’

  ‘Something I’m working on,’ Chupplejeep said.

  Christabel kicked him under the table. ‘Don’t talk shop now, sweetie,’ she said. She never called him sweetie. It was a warning. He was sure of that.

  ‘You have?’ Nilesh said. ‘How come? Fancy investing in some property here, Arthur?’

  ‘Nothing like that,’ Chupplejeep said. And to think he had not wanted to attend this dinner. What a mistake that would have been. He wanted to lean over and kiss Christabel for forcing him to come out tonight, but he refrained.

  Chupplejeep twisted one end of his moustache and rolled his tongue around in his mouth. It would not stay still. This was his chance; he had to say something. ‘You were at the reading of the will of a gentleman who recently passed in Toem Place.’

  ‘Ah! Now I understand,’ Nilesh said. He turned to his wife and gave her a tight smile. ‘Are you a detective, awhat?’ he asked. Nilesh popped an onion bhaji into his mouth, oil dripping off his moustache. Before he had finished chewing, he picked up a chicken lollipop and looked at it hungrily.

  ‘Actually, I am,’ Chupplejeep said.

  The property developer looked at his wife, who nodded slowly. Chupplejeep noticed the developer’s eyes narrowing as he looked at her. He turned back and smiled. ‘You have questions for me. Is that why you’ve been trying to get hold of me?’

  Another kick under the table from Christabel. ‘He’s not a detective on duty, though,’ she said. ‘He’s on holiday.’

  ‘A detective is always on duty, especially one like you. Chupplejeep, is it?’

  ‘You know who I am, and yet I was only introduced as Arthur.’

  Nilesh smiled. ‘You’ve left several messages with my secretary. I know of you,’ he said and gave Chupplejeep a look. Chupplejeep knew that look; he had seen it several times since the Panaji incident, when he became infamous in the criminal world as the incorruptible cop. A cop you couldn’t corrupt wasn’t worth knowing, but it was worth knowing his name so you could avoid him at all costs.

  ‘But still you didn’t call me back. Why was that?’

  ‘Unlike a cop who can take holidays, I work twenty-four seven. I have little time in my day to bother with small matters.’

  ‘Small matters like murder?’

  Nilesh put down his chicken lollipop. ‘I attended the reading of the will. The deceased, Jackpot, had been left eight properties that I need to complete my lakeside hotel.’ Nilesh put his hands out in front of him and moved them as if drawing an outline of the hotel.

  ‘So you knew about the inheritance?’

  ‘Of course. I found out when my mother died because I didn’t get them. The solicitor told me who she’d left them to.’

  ‘Were you not irritated by this?’

  ‘Definitely. I was even more annoyed when I found I could not contest the will. So I came to see that boatwalla.’

  ‘Your half-brother?’ Chupplejeep said.

  Christabel looked at Arthur. ‘What?’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ Nilesh said, looking at Christabel. ‘Jackpot was my mother’s illegitimate son, which I found out just a short while before she died. She abandoned him as a baby, leaving him with the family of a labourer to bring up.’

  Bhumika looked at her husband, her mouth ajar. ‘You never told me – another brother.’

  ‘Only biologically. Mother had an affair with a staff member of the family, can you imagine. Someone her parents, my grandparents, did not approve of. She had the choice: go with the local and no money or abandon the child and finish her education at a boarding school in North India. My mother liked the finer things in life; she took the latter option, and the rest, as they say, is history.’

  ‘And you tried to buy the properties back from Jackpot?’

  ‘I met him by the lake several weeks back, but that fellow was not having any of it. He didn’t want to sell. He wanted this place to remain as it is. That’s why people like him never make any money. They don’t see potential anywhere. They are so blinkered.’

  ‘On the contrary, they’re preserving our overdeveloped land,’ Chupplejeep said. He recalled the conversation he had overheard in the mini-mart soon after Jackpot’s body had been found. The two villagers had talked about a fight between the developer and Jackpot. Was it this discussion Mr Patel was now referring to, or had they met again?

  ‘And can I ask where you were on the fourteenth of this month?’

  Nilesh smirked; a piece of onion was stuck in his thick moustache. Bhumika wiped it away. ‘The day Jackpot was killed. I’m a suspect, am I?’

  ‘Oh, never mind him,’ Christabel said with a forced smile. ‘He’s going around askin
g everyone the same question.’

  ‘Well, he wasn’t with me!’ Bhumika said with a cheerful grin. ‘I was here, you were at home. Alone probably, na?’

  Nilesh nodded, the same grin on his face. ‘Nobody can vouch for me, Detective. I was home alone, like my wife says.’ He turned to face Bhumika. ‘She knows me too well.’

  It was a lie. Chupplejeep knew that just by looking at the way Nilesh flicked his nose as he spoke, the way his eyes darted this way and that. Was he lying because he was with Sneha that night? It was convenient if they were each other’s alibis; too convenient. Or was it because he was in Jackpot’s boat, his hands around the boatwalla’s neck.

  Another kick. He rubbed his calf where Christabel’s pointed shoe had bruised him. Had Nilesh tried to reason with Jackpot, taking him two bottles of rum to convince him? Did he get angry when Jackpot refused and lost his temper, strangling him as a result? Someone like Nilesh would know about people like Vadish and his uncle. He could have easily copied his style, covering Jackpot’s neck with a bandana.

  ‘But enough now – all this talk of murder. We’re supposed to be having a fun evening out,’ Bhumika said. Although she still looked slightly bewildered, having just found out this news about a brother-in-law, one she didn’t know, and who had already died.

  Nilesh smiled at Chupplejeep, sending a shiver down his spine. He straightened his back but kept his gaze on the property developer. He wasn’t going to let this go that easily.

  ‘I agree completely,’ Christabel said.

  ‘Tomorrow, our dinner with Arj will be tiresome enough. I told you he thinks he’s a big-shot author, but let me tell you, he hasn’t published a thing in years. I’ve no idea how he’s surviving here.’ Bhumika smiled; a piece of coriander was stuck between her front teeth. Chupplejeep could tell she was trying to lighten the conversation. He looked away. ‘Today we enjoy,’ she said, not wanting to give up her efforts. ‘Come on, let’s get a bottle of Sula. Our treat,’ she said, half rising in her chair to catch the attention of a waiter.