The Miss India Murders

by Gauri Sinh

  Aunt L handed me the blade from the wings in the black-out, even waited till I actually stabbed her. I was last in the line-up, standing just in front of Lajjo. I stabbed her when she passed me in the darkness. The music hadn’t even begun, she pre-empted it, in her witless state. The spot wasn’t on either, and the girls were shifting formation in front of me, so there was a bit shuffling in the darkness. It was too easy in the chaos.

  Aunt L had drugged her earlier, with the colourless, odourless psychotropic drug I’d given her, again courtesy my medical training. Lajjo had been unwell that morning, Aunt L insisted she have some water before she went onstage. Told her it had a natural remedy mixed in it, to help her feel better. It took fifteen minutes or so for the drug to take effect. Timed perfectly to happen just at blackout, in fact, she would’ve been perfectly normal before that. Of course, Avi’s music change was a little off-putting, because Lajjo moved before she had to, she was confused. We managed, despite that hiccup. Lajjo may have felt the knife, I don’t know. But she was so drugged, she didn’t even scream. Of course she did stumble a little later on ramp, when the effects of the drug and the blood loss both took hold.’

  ‘How horrible,’ I murmured under my breath, thinking of the whole awful scenario, now laid before me so plainly.

  ‘Oh, it wasn’t horrible at all,’ Nina has caught my words. ‘It was delightful. Knowing as the blade went in, that she would not be in the contest anymore. Knowing that this would be her last walk.’

  Nina’s smiling face changed abruptly. Looking suddenly annoyed, she turned to face me. ‘It’s too bad you weren’t where you were supposed to be, Akruti,’ she said. ‘You spoiled it a bit, by entering impromptu from the front of stage instead of the wings like you always did.

  The plan was to have you implicated in the stabbing when you walked from behind her to take your place. But so much went awry. The music changed suddenly, throwing off our timing. The girls went off-stage and shifted formation, there was such chaos on ramp. I had to be really clever to stab her so quick without bumping into anyone or being noticed. And then, you—you walked from the front, so you were nowhere near Lajjo when she was stabbed. You caught her as she fell, but unfortunately, it was in full public view. Bit awkward, that, when the blade handle showed your fingerprints …

  Y’know that was ingenuous actually. The blade slips into the tap dance stick, fits snugly inside, no one would notice if they didn’t know—all of it goes in, save the handle. So when we practised for the opening dance, Akruti was holding the stick with the blade sheathed within. When we removed it from the disguise of the stick—her fingerprints were on it! Aunt L’s idea, that!’

  I shuddered, thinking I had actually held the blade that went through Lajjo without knowing it. And now I could finally place where it was that I had seen that intricately carved handle on the blade itself—it was part of tap-dancing sticks I’d trained with. I had recalled having seen that design somewhere when I first saw the weapon driven clean through Lajjo’s back, but in shock had forgotten about my effort at partial recognition till now.

  ‘That’s how dear Aunt L got the blade into the wings as well,’ Nina was explaining. ‘Till the last moment everyone thought she was carrying one of the dance sticks. And she was a mentor, no one would stop her being in the wings at the rehearsal of the finale.’

  Parvati met my eyes. We now knew who the shadowy figure on the recording Mhatre had shown us was. Lubaina, allowed there as a mentor, watching her niece Laddo drive the blade into Lajjo in the semi-darkness of blackout. No gown had concealed the murder weapon. It had been carried right through to the stage wings by a trusted mentor, then handed to her deranged niece in full view of everyone present, should they have cared to pay attention. Yet no one had noticed the exchange at all, courtesy the darkness.

  ‘Poor, poor Lajjo,’ the words escaped me involuntarily.

  ‘Yes,’ Nina said, cool and unruffled, save for the odd gleam in her eyes. ‘Poor Lajjo. She went first. Then Doreen. And finally Nuzhat.’

  ‘Why Nuzhat? She was not a forerunner in this pageant. So why kill her?’ Parvati asked quietly.

  ‘To distract the police. To pin the blame of all the murders on Tara who had an ill history with Nuzhat especially. To divert attention from us completely. Tara is so nervous, she makes an easy suspect for a serial killer and she had scuffled with Nuzhat as well, earlier,’ Nina replied, leering at Parvati once more. ‘We had to divert attention from us. Especially as you were looking for me. For Laddo as you said in your diary … well, you found me. And it could only be this way. I had to get rid of you, I was the one who called out in the green room that you had an urgent phone call. I lured you out, then followed you here to the telephone room. It’s too bad the lights went out just as you got here. Such a pain running back to my room, locating that camping torch, then running back down again. I knew you might stay put here, there were no lights, you would wait till they came on. And you did.’

  ‘Yes,’ Parvati’s face showed no emotion. ‘I waited.’

  ‘I wish Doreen had waited,’ Nina told her suddenly. ‘She was such a chatterbox. There was no need for her to die. But she wouldn’t stop talking about my bending the rules to be here. She knew Aunt L was related to me. Gokul had told her. He had come to my hometown, long ago, once. He had done my make-up for a small role in SRK’s film then. I was performing a background dance, SRK didn’t even look at me first. But one day, I slipped doing my steps near him and he helped me up. Such a wonderful smile. And I knew. I knew I would follow him here and act with him, and he would notice me as he never did then.’

  Nina paused for breath. Talking about SRK had always gotten her worked up, but we never realised how bad it was, her obsession.

  ‘I had confided in Gokul, I told him I would be a Bollywood heroine to get to SRK. He said I could start modelling, then try my luck at Miss India. I told him Aunt L was my aunt, I never knew the rules then, that I had to keep it a secret. Even later, Gokul promised he’d never tell. Only his wife, she already knew, he had told her. If only she had kept quiet. But she went on and on and on …’

  Once more, Nina turned to me. ‘It was lucky I was there when she began telling you,’ she said. ‘I was seated behind the dressing cubicle curtain. But you didn’t ask more and the topic changed. Good for you.’ Here she smiled crazily. ‘Else I’d have had to kill you earlier than this.’

  ‘You went back to kill Doreen?’ Parvati spoke up. ‘From the swimsuit round?’

  ‘I never left the green room,’ Nina said to her. ‘I was waiting behind the curtain all the while that Inayat was getting ready, and Doreen was blabbing freely. She even told Inayat my name, but it was drowned by the music being tested on stage, and that dimwit Inayat never heard. Or realized how close she’d come to being murdered as well. Then the other two girls finished their hair touch-ups and left. I was alone with Doreen. I seized the moment. I used her own scissors to kill her. You should’ve seen Doreen’s face at the end, pleading for her life. Of course, I had to wipe the scissors clean, after. Wouldn’t do to have my prints on the weapon, would it? Especially since we made sure that Queen Akruti’s prints were on the blade handle that killed Lajjo!’

  I don’t know how Parvati’s expression could remain so impassive, I was overcome with disgust, rage and repulsion all at once at the extent of depravity in this girl’s confession. But I kept quiet. Agitating her would not do.

  ‘You were present when Tara and Nuzhat scuffled?’ I asked, just to get away from the graphic image in my mind of Doreen’s final moments.

  ‘Yes, I was in the restroom nearby. Tara hit Nuzhat in sheer desperation, because Nuzhat was maliciously teasing her. Nuzhat was dazed, after the blow, but still conscious. Tara left for her stage appearance. That’s when it came to me immediately, how I could turn Nuzhat’s misfortune into my opportunity. So I walked up and finished the job. No one saw me. I bashed in Nuzhat’s head, and made sure Tara was implicated later, by whispering to Tania abo
ut the scuffle infront of the Addl.CP. Many others had heard it as well. The rest was easy. The police went after Tara. And now no one will know about our role in the killings.’

  ‘No one, that is, except for you two,’ Lubaina, utterly silent and in her own world all this while, suddenly spoke up. ‘Shilpi, you cannot kill one first, then the other—there’s no time. You have to be on stage very soon, they will be announcing the finalists in a few moments, based on points and judging of the pre-contests.’

  My heart sank at this. I knew very soon they would start calling out the names of those who would be part of the final round—the all-powerful Q&A round.

  ‘Shall we knife them together?’ Nina asked her aunt, looking positively sickly in her pleasure at saying this.

  ‘No, we’ll lock them in, torch the room,’ Lubaina said decisively, in her perfectly-modulated voice. It occurred to me just how twisted the minds of the two of them, both aunt and niece, were. Frighteningly so.

  ‘How did you read my diary?’ Parvati suddenly asked loudly. At her words, I realized the utter despair in our predicament, over and above my rage and disgust with this duo. I knew she was trying to buy time. But even with extra time, how were we to get ourselves away from these two?

  ‘Tania, your roommate, took it out of your drawer the first time,’ Nina said. The organisers rely too much on contestants being upright and honest—how silly to give keys that will fit every drawer! What is private then? Anyway, I convinced Tania to get it for me. I read it, all of it, especially the ‘need to find Laddo’ part.

  The thing is, my sweet Parvati, no one here would know about the name Laddo. Gokul knew it because he had helped me earlier in my hometown, and because he used it, so too did Doreen. But luckily for me, her loose tongue didn’t spill the beans on my pet name. I silenced her before it could do more harm to me.

  Anyway, Tania hates to read, and she didn’t bother reading your diary, though she’s curious by nature. She left it to me, assuming that we were making a note of your secrets. She didn’t know the manner of those secrets … That’s why I could get her to do it again, last night as well.’

  ‘I removed it from Akruti’s bag the second time,’ Lubaina drawled. ‘While you both were busy doing Josy Joseph’s meditation in the corridor when we met you. You had given it to her for safekeeping but I was smarter, looked through both your bags after offering to hold them for you.’

  ‘That’s why the diary was in a different compartment in my bag from where I’d put it,’ I spoke up. ‘I knew I hadn’t made a mistake, I was puzzled as to how it got to another pocket. But I never thought of you.’

  ‘You should have,’ Lubaina told me, coolly. ‘It would’ve spared you all of this. It was only supposed to be Lajjo. I even told the Addl.CP how Lajjo was a nervous creature, used to taking meds to calm herself. This, in case the post-mortem discovered the drug in her system.’

  ‘And I roomed right next to her. I made all possible use of my med training. I told the police the same thing, even stating I had the medical credentials,’ Nina added.

  ‘No wonder they were convinced Lajjo was an anxious person,’ I said. ‘It just wasn’t true, and you two made sure they were convinced otherwise.’

  ‘A respected mentor responsible for contestants’ well-being, and a medically trained “best friend” on call nearby if necessary, who ascertained Lajjo was a ‘nervous’ sort. Why would the police suspect foul play?’ Lubaina asked, a thin half-smile playing on her lips. This chilled us even more than Nina’s cold eyes—Lubaina never smiled.

  ‘They would hardly guess the truth about Laddo, rooming next to Lajjo,’ Nina sang blithely mirthlessly. ‘Why, we even had connecting doors!’

  The mic outside had spluttered to life, over the drone of music, we were suddenly conscious of it.

  ‘And now the finalists …’ the compere’s voice rang out.

  Lubaina started. ‘Hurry, Shilpi,’ she said, the urgency transparent for once, in her voice. ‘You need to be on stage. C’mon, we have to go.’

  ‘You two better stay quiet,’ Lubaina warned us in the same breath as both stepped backward, backing towards the door, still brandishing their knives. ‘Not that anyone will hear you over the din outside. You’ll be locked in, screaming won’t help. And it will get very hot when the flames take over, so save your energy for then.’

  ‘I’ll think of you both when I’m wearing the crown,’ Nina interjected, her gimlet eyes aglitter. ‘Especially you, Akruti. Only for a bit though. Later, I’ll be too busy conquering Bollywood with SRK. I have to say—it’s too bad you both won’t be around to witness my moment of glory. It felt nice to tell the tale of our cleverness just now. Won’t be the same later. But as they say, change is the only constant. And now, I must be the change.’ Nina smiled, a truly enchanting smile if it weren’t so absolutely crazed.

  Parvati watched them back away, her face still impassive. The torch threw them in shadow as they edged away facing us, their step by step retreat, towards the door. I looked at them leave in growing horror.

  Was Nina really so utterly blinded by her ambition that she simply assumed she would be one of the five finalists being called out? How would she go about winning the actual crown? Or had Lubaina, an age-old contest mentor, managed to doctor the final results, somehow? I didn’t see how she could have, there was a respected external balloting agency tallying points.

  But the reality of our situation hit me abruptly, with terrifying force—we had run out of time and ideas to stop them. In a few seconds, they would be burning the room, along with us, down to the ground. Would this really be how it would end for me? Not just the contest, there was so much more I wanted to do with my life. So much more I wanted to be. I hadn’t got a chance to tell my parents or Jehaan how much they all meant to me. And now it appeared that I might never be able to …

  I glanced at Parvati in the dim light. Her face was expressionless, almost expectant. I drew myself up tall, taking succour from her icy calmness. If she was being so absurdly brave in the face of assured death—so would I.

  There was a sudden movement at the far end. And it wasn’t Nina or Lubaina who had moved around there. Before I could see more Parvati had grabbed the torch left on the table upwards and lightning-quick had turned the beam off.

  In the darkness, I heard sounds of a scuffle, more heavy seeming than before. Screams, then groans of effort, as if in some sort of desperate clash. Then thuds, one after another, as if two bodies were falling hard. It couldn’t be Parvati trying to best Nina once more, she was next to me, switched-off torch in hand. For a nanosecond there was silence yet again in the room. Then an unfamiliar male voice called out, ‘Pari—you can switch the torch back on now.’

  Zero hour …

  30

  From the pages of Parvati’s diary

  9.30 p.m.

  I believe I have never loved Brij more than at that moment when he uttered those words to me ‘Pari—you can switch the torch back on now!’ In one swift movement, he saved Akruti and me from certain and rather painful death by fire. But then, I was at this contest because of him. He had specifically asked it of me, and dutiful as I am, I had agreed to his request!

  Anyway, I’ll go sequentially with all that happened. I just have to write it all down, the sheer marvel of having something so deeply wrong set right in a trice, just like that, as with a light switch flipped. First up—Akruti’s expression. When she saw Brij in the torch beam that I had switched back on, it was as if she’s seen a ghost.

  ‘That’s the guy,’ she whispered to me, panic in her voice. ‘The one from the garden, the one who disappeared near the elevators the other day. The one outside our green room today … he must be with them!’

  ‘Akruti,’ I said, as I moved the torch around the room so she had a good look at the immobile Nina and Lubaina, lying collapsed on the floor, unconscious, but not dead, post Brij’s intervention. ‘I believe he isn’t with them.’

  I gave her a moment to abso
rb the scene.

  Then, smiling broadly at her shocked face, I added, just to watch her expression, ‘And I’d like you to meet Brij. My older brother.’

  ‘How do you do?’ Brij came forward, smiling at her, flashing his dimples, now that the danger was at bay.

  ‘The lovely Akruti Rai—in person,’ he said. Akruti’s face was an absolute picture, but I didn’t have time to fully appreciate it. We could hear suddenly, Akruti’s name being announced over the mic on stage outside, as a finalist. Followed by mine, to my deepest surprise.

  ‘I believe you may have a contest to win,’ Brij told Akruti, stepping aside as she turned to face me, utterly baffled by the turn of events. Then abruptly, as if charged with sudden electricity, she raced out the door to get to the stage.

  ‘You might need to show your face on stage too,’ Brij dimpled at me, but I was having none of it.

  ‘You couldn’t have come sooner?’ I told him, on my way to following Parvati out. ‘We might have been killed by these two maniacs.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have ever let that happen,’ Brij said to me shortly, his voice curt. I believed him. I had staked my life and Akruti’s on that fact all this time.

  ‘I know,’ I said. Then, as I reached the door, I added: ‘You got everything?’

  ‘I think so,’ Brij said, as he held up the cassette from the tape recorder I had hidden in the deep recesses of the darkened room. ‘Good going, Pari. We have a confession.’

  Nina and Lubaina on the floor stirred as they came to, slowly, still disoriented.

  ‘What confession?’ Nina asked, she had caught the last part of the conversation.

  ‘Yours,’ I said to her quietly. ‘The one you “felt nice” about telling us, remember? Nina—you didn’t lead me to you. I led you to me, by making sure you read my diary that third night. I wanted you to hunt me, so I could discover your identity. Sometimes, you see, the hunted can become the hunter.’