Kashi looks disgruntled. ‘I’d taken three weeks off to go to Goa with Kuhu, remember?’
‘Oh yaaa!’ Walli chuckles. ‘She cancelled! After you spent a whole month working on your abs!’
‘Yeah.’ Kashi yanks up his sweatshirt with a flourish and flexes. ‘Should I go flash these guns at other women?’
‘Hunter!’ Walli crows approvingly. ‘Of course you should! Like who?’
There’s an odd little pause.
Kashi lets his sweatshirt drop. ‘I bumped into Bambi Todi yesterday,’ he says casually.
‘Wha—?’ Walli’s jaw sags. He scrambles into the room, sits down on Kashi’s bed and starts to pluck at his razai with anxious fingers. ‘Bumboo Todi? No, Dogra, you poor, sad, fucked-up choot, no! Stay away from bloody Bumboo Todi! BT, bro BT!’
‘It won’t be a bad trip, Walli!’ Kashi says indignantly. ‘I’m not a kid any more.’
‘Dogra, mere bhai.’ Walli’s voice is hoarse with emotion. ‘Bumboo Todi will just bumboo your ass agai—’
‘Stop calling her Bumboo Todi!’
Walli holds up his palms placatingly. ‘Okay, okay, sorry! But getting back on Bambi Todi’s radar is a bad bad bad idea! You’re always gonna resent her for putting you through so much shit, and she’s always gonna despise you for putting up with it.’
‘Behenchod, don’t talk like a cheap therapist!’ Kashi says irritably. He rolls away, reaches for his pillow, and hugs it pensively. His friend observes that his face has softened and his eyes have a faraway look.
‘It was so nice meeting her again. It was easy, it was chill … maybe because we’re both grown up now!’ He turns glowing eyes on Walli. ‘I think we’re finally ready to be pals again.’
‘Pals?’ Walli scoffs disbelievingly. ‘You – Kashi chutiya Dogra – are going to coax her – Bambi tigress Todi – to crawl obediently into a best-friend-sized cage and stay there?’
‘Yeah,’ Kashi replies doggedly.
‘She’ll bite your fucking head off, then have sex with your writhing body,’ Walli says bluntly.
Kashi’s eyes blaze with sudden, disproportionate fury. ‘What the hell, Walli!’
They stare at each other for a hot, angry moment, then Walli shrugs and backs off the bed. ‘Whatever bro, I have a meeting – haul your ass out of bed and shut the goddam front door.’
‘Why can’t Kalra do it?’ Kashi mutters.
‘He stayed the night at his chachi’s.’
Reluctantly, Kashi wraps his razai tightly around himself, gets out of bed and hobbles to the door. Walli hovers impatiently.
‘And let Kamala didi in, or the bins won’t be emptied. Again.’
‘Have a nice day, honey!’ Kashi says sarcastically and shuts the door in Walli’s face, cutting off the stream of abuses.
He stumbles back into bed and is staring moodily into the distance when his phone rings. He answers it.
‘Akash Dogra?’ a voice asks.
‘Yes?’
‘Sir, this is the Crime Branch cell, Chanakyapuri. We are calling from the Delhi Turf Club. Your client Leo Matthews has been found dead and we need your assistance immediately.’
4
Pinko Hathni
Sipping a cup of tea that is neither sweet nor milky enough, and longing for a spicy aloo patty to go with it, Bhavani Singh sits back in the smelly little room the DTC insists on calling a ‘Command Centre’ and addresses the eager young computer operator in the baseball cap.
‘What’s your name, beta?’
‘Ram Palat, sir.’
‘Why is there only one security camera in the gym, Ram Palat?’
‘Sir, there are two – one for upstairs and one for downstairs. They are sufficient, sir! The placement is really very good!’
‘Okay.’ Bhavani nods. ‘Are you ready to watch the footage, sardar ji?’
This to a tiny, wizened turbaned Sikh in a blue blazer, emblazoned with a Precor ascot on its breast pocket, sitting on a chair with his feet not quite touching the floor.
‘Yes,’ the sardar replies in a fluting, bird-like little voice. ‘By all means, let’s watch!’
Ram Palat presses play.
‘Yeh hui Leo sa’ab ki entry, sir … sabse pehle he goes to the fridge, takes out a flask and drinks it till it’s empty. Then he starts stretching … phir twunty minutes fast running, uske baad … push-ups … bicep curls…’ His voice trails away.
Bhavani sips his tea and watches the silent screen. It is the first time he has seen the dead man alive – and also the first time he has seen such perfected masculine beauty in action. Even on the silent, low-res, black-and-white CCTV camera footage, Leo’s workout makes for hypnotic viewing. Watching him, Bhavani starts to feel decidedly bloated and unfit. Aaj se aloo patty band, he decides.
‘It’s coming, sir,’ Ram Palat says eagerly. ‘He is walking to the bench now. Look.’
Panting lightly, his chest moving up and down, Leo wipes his face with a hand towel, then approaches the bench press. The bar is already loaded and ready.
Hitching up his track pants slightly, he sits on the bench, then lowers himself into position below the bar. His sneakered feet rest on the ground, flexed lightly.
‘He is lifting hundred and twenty kgs sir,’ Ram Palat says in awe. ‘I calculated.’
‘Three-three plates of twenty kg each, stacked and balanced absolutely correctly.’ Flutes the tiny sardar. ‘No error so far.’
On the monitor, Leo raises his hands, curls them around the bar, and lifts it smoothly off the stand. He brings it down to his chest grimacing slightly. His chest expands, his arms ripple. His back and buttocks do not rise even a centimetre off the bench. He is completely in control of the movement as he performs his reps. One … two … three … four …
‘Excellent technique!’ the tiny sardar pronounces approvingly.
Ram Palat grips Bhavani’s fat wrist urgently.
‘Watch carefully now, sir. Here it comes!’
With a sense of impending doom, Bhavani watches as Leo pushes smoothly upwards again.
It happens really quickly. The trainer’s arms are extended to the max, his elbows are locked. Then, inexplicably, the bar wavers and drops with sudden, sickening neatness to his chest. His body jerks up, then flops back. The loaded bar follows the pull of gravity, rolls down to his neck and settles against his straining windpipe. Slowly, the struggling stops and the powerful body goes still.
Bhavani frowns. ‘Again.’
He pulls a chair to the monitor, and puts on his glasses.
‘In slow motion.’
Ram Palat twiddles the knobs and they watch the clip intently three more times. Then Bhavani sits back with a dissatisfied grunt and takes off his glasses.
‘Accident ho gaya rabba rabba …’ he hums musingly. ‘What do you say, sardar ji?’
‘Accident caused by human error, sir,’ says the little Precor representative definitely. ‘There was no gadbad with the equipment. I’ve checked it already. The bar, the bench, the plates.’ He pauses, frowning, then admits, ‘But I see nothing wrong with his technique either. Ekdum textbook correct hai!’
Bhavani frowns. ‘Then …’ he looks around the smelly little room. ‘Where’s Padam? We need to chase forensics on this …’
Devendar Bhatti has assigned Guest Cottage No. 5 to the investigative team. It is a large, airy, high-ceilinged suite with heavy, white-painted teak furniture, its own veranda and garden. Floral curtains are drawn back to offer a view of flowerbeds blooming with rich maroon coxcomb, sweet-pea and dahlia.
When Bhavani hurries back to it, in search of the inspector, he finds him sitting upon the floral sofa, behind an old-school stainless-steel tea-tray and a plate of Marie biscuits, chatting cosily with a rugged young man, who looks vaguely familiar.
‘This one is nice too!’ the young man is saying, peering down into the s
creen of what Bhavani immediately recognizes from the virulence of its yellow cover to be Padam’s phone. ‘She has a karate black belt, and she can play Spanish guitar! Sounds like you’re spoilt for choice, inspector!’
‘She’s not as fair as the one who can speak French and German, though,’ Padam points out seriously. ‘And she is two years older.’
‘But that one had too many brothers, you said,’ the young man reminds him just as seriously. ‘They may create hassles.’
‘That is true.’ Padam frowns. ‘What about the Chandigarh girl, sir?’
‘She is nice too. Frankly I think they’re all lovely!’
‘You’re too lenient a marker, sir.’ Padam gravely rebukes the young man. ‘After all, this is not a date, it is a question of my whole life. And my family’s life. I’m the only son. Fair, six foota, police afsar – I can pick and choose, which means I have to choose carefully.’
‘Sorry, sorry.’ Much abashed at this reprimand, the young man bends over the phone with even greater concentration.
Padam sips his tea, mollified, then sights Bhavani standing in the doorway and does a double take, almost dropping his cup.
‘Sir!’
‘No, no, take your time, PK,’ Bhavani says sardonically. ‘We had asked you to chase forensics at RML, but we see you are busy with more important matters.’
‘Yes, sir, no, sir! This is Mr Akash Dogra, sir! Lawyer of the deceased. He is waiting for you!’
The young man puts down Padam’s phone and leaps to his feet at once, hand extended.
‘Call me Kashi,’ he says, his eyes twinkling. ‘Inspector Kumar has been calling RML constantly, but in the middle, the Chandigarh party phoned, insisting on an immediate final answer, so PK enlisted my help.’
‘O really?’ Bhavani grasps the proffered hand, liking the young man instinctively and wondering again where he’s seen him before. Then he turns to the hovering Padam. ‘We need Dr Krishnan’s report at once, PK!’
Padam exits, a little red-faced.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting.’ Bhavani gestures towards the sofa.
‘Not at all, you must have a dozen things to do,’ Akash Dogra says easily as he sits down. ‘But do tell me – was it an accident?’
‘Most probably.’ Bhavani nods, taking a seat too. ‘We are still figuring it out. You were the deceased’s lawyer, we hear?’
‘I didn’t know him too well, actually,’ Akash admits. ‘I do some pro-bono work with juveniles – a bunch of boys were gathered up for underage drinking and rowdiness in Gurgaon once and Leo came to pay their bail and organize their release. He was an old boy from their orphanage and he still took an interest in its affairs. He said it was the closest thing he had to a home and a family. I liked how he handled them – he was kind, but also tough – I studied in an all-boys boarding school so I can appreciate these things. The boys really looked up to him.’
He pauses, looking down at his empty teacup and frowning. Bhavani senses he isn’t done.
‘And?’ he prompts gently.
Kashi looks up. ‘Only his name wasn’t Leo that night. I thought about it after I went home yesterday and I’m pretty sure they all called him Lambodar bhaiya.’
‘That is understandable, no?’ Bhavani suggests softly. ‘Lambodar is perhaps nat as … upwardly mobile as Leo.’
Kashi nods again. ‘Yeah … yesterday when I saw him at the club, I realized he has a public persona here, which is different from the one I’d seen earlier. Smoother, suaver, sexier. He’d even told the ladies at the club that he was part Jamaican. But that night he spoke full-on Bhojpuri.’
‘And you did nat like that,’ Bhavani states. ‘You feel people should have just one persona all the time. Their true persona.’
Kashi shrugs. ‘Yeah. I do actually.’
Bhavani, reflecting privately that it is only people with great privilege who can afford to think like this, changes the subject.
‘You have only met Leo twice then? We were told – perhaps there was some mistake – that you are his lawyer.’
‘Oh that.’ Kashi looks sheepish. ‘Some bumptious asshole was leaning hard on him yesterday, during tambola, in front of everybody. I hate bullies, so I decided to butt in and say I represent him.’
Bhavani Singh’s square, homely face breaks into a pleased smile.
‘We recognize you now!’ he says, snapping his fingers. ‘You are quite a well-known vakeel! You got a jhuggi colony a big compensation, your picture was in the paper today!’
‘A very small picture,’ Kashi mutters, now looking even more embarrassed. ‘Really tiny …’
‘ACP Singh?’
The young girl in the ALPHA FEMALE sweatshirt has popped her head into the cottage doorway.
‘Bhatti uncle says both the gym trainers are here,’ she says, looking at him in an oddly fixed manner. ‘They’re in the gym, with your men. You should go there.’
‘Thank you,’ Bhavani replies.
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and continues to look exclusively at him. ‘No problem.’
There is an awkward pause. Bhavani notices that Akash Dogra, so gregarious thus far, is now looking down studiously at his empty teacup, while the tips of his ears slowly turn red.
Oho. A penny drops in the ACP’s brain. This girl has come rushing to Guest Cottage No. 5 with the sole intention of ignoring Dogra pointedly. Interesting! He pours himself a cup of tea and sits back comfortably to see how the little love-scene will develop.
‘So I guess I’ll be going then!’ Bambi says and starts to retreat from the room.
Kashi looks up. ‘I’m sorry your instructor died,’ he blurts out.
She stops.
‘He was a great guy,’ Kashi continues awkwardly.
She turns around.
‘So he really is dead?’ she asks apprehensively. ‘It’s like … pukka?’
Kashi looks confused and glances at Bhavani. ‘Doesn’t everybody know yet?’
She throws up a hand. ‘No, I guess I do know … but I was sort of hoping—’ She shivers. ‘Ugh. Poor Leo. Well, this is better than living with ghastly injuries, I guess.’
‘For sure,’ Kashi agrees at once.
She takes a step into the room and confides, ‘Actually I ended up missing most of his classes, because, no offense, they were too early in the morning for me – even though I live practically next door. That’s why I’m not sadder, I guess. Everybody else is inconsolable outside. They’re all full-on weeping – imagining him dead or crippled. I’m clearly a monster.’
Her eyes belie her statement, however. They look curiously dazed, and her hands are shaking slightly.
Soothingly, Bhavani asks, ‘So what exactly happens in a Zumba class? We are curious.’
‘Hmmm?’ Bambi looks puzzled.
‘What happens in your Zumba class usually, Bee?’ Kashi says patiently.
‘Oh!’ She gives herself a little shake. ‘Well, ours began with Leo coming bouncing up the steps, all sweaty and pumped and radiating his usual Sheila-ki-Jawaani aura. Then—’
Bhavani interrupts, his eyes scanning her face keenly. ‘Why do you say Sheila-ki-Jawaani?’
‘Huh? Oh, the song you know. It begins “I know you want it but you’re never gonna get it, tere haath kabhi na aani.” That was just so Leo. He flaunted his hot bod at all the drooling aunties, but he also had this somehow untouchable quality.’
‘Was he a gay?’ Bhavani wants to know.
‘No no.’ Bambi laughs a little, very sure. ‘He liked women, matlab that much I know—’
‘I wonder how,’ Kashi murmurs.
She has regained enough of her pep now to shoot him a dirty look. ‘It was something else …’ She shrugs. ‘Like he had a chip on his shoulder or something …’
Bhavani nods encouragingly. ‘Thoda … twisted tha, kya? Maybe inwardly resentful of his wealthy lady cli
ents?’
Bambi laughs again. ‘Maybe! He definitely got a kick out of seeing the rich old aunties grinding to stuff like “Give it to me, I’m worth it”.’
‘O really?’ Bhavani sits up straighter.
‘But he was cocky AF mostly. He totally had the upper hand … he’d take his own sweet time finishing his personal workout, coming up the stairs only by six-forty, six-fifty sometimes, and they’d wait for him without a murmur! These ladies! Who are so sharp with their domestic staff for being even two minutes late! And sometimes he’d randomly cancel class saying he was unwell, and instead of demanding a make-up class, or their money back, they’d all put these cooing messages on the group – “So sorry to hear that!” and “Get well soon!” and “Awww take care”. It used to really piss me off!’
‘Sounds like Krishan Kanhaiya conducting a Raaslila,’ Bhavani Singh says thoughtfully.
She lets out a loud snort of laughter. ‘That’s it exactly! They’re such a bunch of sighing gopis!’ Then she pulls up short, guiltily. ‘I shouldn’t laugh. He’s dead. Oh God, he’s dead!’
Her face goes pale. She gulps, swaying a little.
‘Here, sit down.’ Kashi leaps up and gets her a chair.
Bambi sits, smiling at him gratefully. Then she turns to look at the lounging Bhavani. ‘Hadn’t you better go talk to the trainers?’ she asks doubtfully. ‘They’re waiting for you.’
‘O yes.’ Bhavani Singh says. ‘Which way is the gym again?’
‘I’ll show you.’ She rises to her feet.
‘Bambi.’
She stops at once. Akash Dogra is staring at her, his gaze intense.
‘Stay.’
Bhavani gives a little chuckle. ‘We will find the gym,’ he says. ‘It is okay. You stay with vakeel sa’ab. Also, vakeel sa’ab – are you very much busy today?’
‘Uh no,’ Akash replies, still looking at Bambi. ‘As a matter of a fact I’m free for three whole weeks!’
‘Very good! Please wait here for us then! We want to finish our chat with you!’
He walks briskly out of the cottage.
Club You to Death Page 6
