The Astral Alibi

by Manjiri Prabhu

  Praise for

  THE COSMIC CLUES

  An Independent Mystery Booksellers Association

  “Killer Book”

  “One of the more original sleuths around…These stories are true puzzles in the grand old tradition that reaches back to Poe and Doyle…. It’s all good fun, made even more enjoyable by an evocative portrait of modern life in India.”

  —Denver Post

  “This is an intriguing first book in Prabhu’s mystery series. The flavor of her writing puts the reader in the middle of India, getting a taste of the customs, the food and the people…. It’s like you are really experiencing it firsthand with her characters.”

  —TheBestReviews.com

  “I am completely captivated by this debut mystery…. The sights and sounds and smells of exotic India are savored in each chapter…. I predict a wonder fulfuture for this series.”

  —Kathy Harig, Mystery Loves Company bookstore

  “Reminiscent of Alexander McCall Smith’s The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency…part of the detective genre’s journey into new geographic frontiers.”

  —Indianexpress.com

  “Different from a typical mystery, each chapter brings the reader a different story, a different set of characters…taught me a lot more than I expected about India, the general way of life and the mind-set of the Indian people. It was a great read.”

  —www.roundtablereviews.com

  “Manjiri Prabhu’s tale of a young Indian female detective solving cases with the help of astrology strikes the right balance between the logical and the whimsical, the mysterious and the fantastic. The author also highlights the depth, subtle nuances and tradition of the Hindu religion as well as the somewhat opposing Eastern and Western influences that somehow coexist harmoniously in Indian culture and its effect on young Indians, all through her able protagonist…. This is one book that readers will not want to miss!”

  —Curled Up With a Good Book

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  1 A New Neighbour

  2 Open Secrets

  3 Anything for Love

  4 Cheating Destiny

  5 The Horoscope Trap

  6 Check-Mate

  7 The Last Wish

  8 The Letters

  About the Author

  Copyright Page

  To my sister Leena Prabhu, the first writer who touched and inspired me…

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Many thanks to Scott Eyman and Frances Collin for their professional advice. Also a heartfelt “thank you” to Kate Miciak, Kathleen Baldonado, and the entire Dell team for treating Astral Alibi as special. And thanks to my mom, to each member of my family, and my friends, for helping me give a valuable, meaningful touch to the book.

  1

  A New Neighbour

  A full moon pierced the low mist, spreading a silver sheen over the Stellar Investigations Office Building. Nidhi sat on the steps, looking royal in a blue velvet collar, her paws curled, her tail in a straight line behind her, and her whiskers twitching. The cat’s golden fur gleamed in the moonlight. Night crickets droned in the bushes.

  Suddenly the droning in the night was punctuated by a rustling. Nidhi raised her head and picked up her ears. Her nose quivered as she sniffed the air. A figure had stolen into the office premises—slipping cautiously towards the wall, clinging to the shadows and slowly and soundlessly making its way to the windows of the office. The bright moonlight and the distilled shadows did little to hide the figure, draped in floating white. The intruder peered through the dark pane, moving agilely from window to window.

  Nidhi watched, her eyes round and focused. Her hackles were up and she meowed angrily. The figure halted, its progress diverted by the animal sound. Slowly the intruder turned to face Nidhi, then with purposeful steps approached the cat.

  The glow of a fluorescent peach dawn stained the sky. Birds whistled liltingly, as if practising a variety of melodious notes on a flute. Sparrows danced from the rust tree tops and bulbuls swooped down the Model Colony Lake. The water was a perfect mirror for the pearl-coloured clouds. Breeze whiffed in through the wide-open, blue-and-red-checked-curtained windows of Sonia’s room.

  Sonia sat cross-legged on a cream rug on the lawn-green tiled terrace floor, eyes closed, her breathing even. Her arms were stretched out and resting on her knees. She uttered the “Om” slow and long, the vibrations of the word tingling through her whole body. In the hazy light of dawn, she looked like a statue of gold. After several repetitions she stopped and opened her eyes. A smile of satisfaction touched her lips. She felt good! She always began her day with Yoga, a few Surya Namaskars—Sun Salutation, an excellent exercise that paid homage to the sun—and Omkar—the chanting of the sacred word Om—a habit instilled in her by her mother. Followed by Praanaayaam—a rhythmic breathing technique—her morning routine never failed to invigorate her with the spirit of life.

  Sonia rose and leaned against the wooden railing of the terrace, glancing down at the lake. The Samarth bungalow—a fancy structure of red brick, stone, and wood—stood back from the almost triangular body of water in the heart of the Shivajinagar area. Sonia loved her house. It afforded a wonderful view of the glistening water. She took another deep breath. It was a beautiful morning and she looked forward to going to her office. It was a brand-new day of hopes!

  The January morning was cool and a weak sun glinted on the windowpanes. The brown leaves of the huge Banyan tree on F.C.Road carpeted the garden and the path which led to the steps of the Stellar Investigations Office. Sonia drove her van into the parking lot, threw an appreciative glance at nature’s untidiness, then hastened up the steps.

  She paused at the door of the office and a look of pride flashed across her face. The new steel-and-copper nameplate announced Stellar Investigations in flowing writing. She gazed at it critically, gauging the impression it would create on a prospective client. Not bad. The nameplate hinted at an artistic unravelling of issues.

  Suppressing a natural urge to flick out her kerchief and rub an invisible spot on the nameplate, she turned to the door opposite her office and hesitated. For the first time in years, the office next door was open and she could hear sounds of activity. Frowning, Sonia swung open the Stellar Investigations’ door and walked into her outer office.

  A big polished brass Om, like a shining cheerful face, greeted her from the wall opposite. Sonia particularly liked that effect. A positive, almost spiritual touch. In the right corner, a small Television set—her assistant Jatin’s contribution to the décor—occupied prime position. A small glass enclosure in the left corner of the room held more cushioned chairs than the number of prospective clients. Again, Jatin’s optimism at work. The glass cubicle—or “cabin,” as Jatin preferred to call it—was his domain. He sat working on the computer, playing the role of a perfect detective-cum-assistant.

  He glanced up now as Sonia entered.

  “Good morning, Boss.” Jatin raised an eyebrow in anticipation. “Well?” he asked.

  “The nameplate’s perfect!”

  His face glowed with pleasure. Any word of appreciation from his boss made him feel as if he had won another round of chess. He alone knew how difficult Sonia was to please. For the simple reason that he alone fended with her degrees of intelligence, stubbornness, and frequent acts of unreasonability. His boss was, of course, undoubtedly gifted with the art of cracking criminal cases with the ace craft of Astrology, but that didn’t make her any less difficult. In fact, her gift was an added bonus to her already complex character. If it hadn’t been for him—patient, tolerant, sensitive Jatin Singh—detective Sonia Samarth would have found herself alone on the path of justic
e! Jatin gave himself a mental pat of self-appreciation.

  Quite unaware of her assistant’s roaming speculations, Sonia strode into the inner office. A volley of meows welcomed her.

  “Hello, Nidhi!” Sonia’s voice dropped to an affectionate murmur as she picked up the golden cat and stroked its silky fur. “Everything all right? Have you looked after the office well?”

  “She’s been a little cranky all morning,” Jatin informed, following her in. “I think it’s the office next door. The carpentry sounds of sawing and hammering are disturbing her.”

  “Yes, I meant to ask you. What’s happening there?”

  “We are going to have neighbours. And you are not going to like it,” he added ominously.

  “Why not?” Sonia settled in the seat behind her table and cuddled Nidhi in her lap. Immediately the cat ensconced herself in the crook of Sonia’s elbow, hiding her face in it. Gentle snores instantly emanated from her body!

  “A clothes store is opening next door. A boutique next to Stellar Investigations! The thought makes me shudder!”

  Sonia laughed. “What’s so awful about that?”

  “Imagine the rush and crowds—of females! The chattering and blabbering! All our peace and sanctity will be invaded! Think about our image!”

  “Relax. It’s not going to affect our business.” Sonia brushed away his bloated doubts.

  Nidhi stirred and meowed again, fixing bright sea-green eyes on her Mistress’s face. “I know, I know,” Sonia laughed. “You need a change of palate! Fish. And you’re going to get it.”

  “Fish! But the office will smell! And you don’t expect me to go fetch it, do you?”

  The apprehensive glint in Jatin’s eyes made Sonia smile. “I’ve arranged for a vendor to drop by every morning and supply regular quantities of fish,” she told him.

  “But you are vegetarian!”

  “Yes, but Nidhi is not.”

  “And I have to feed that fish to her every morning?”

  “I’ve also ordered some masks. You don’t have to inhale all that smell.” Sonia smiled sweetly.

  Jatin shook his head in frustration. “Why don’t you just order some cat food for her?”

  “Perhaps later. This is more convenient.”

  “Do we have to go this far for a cat?”

  “A cat? She’s not just any cat! She’s Nidhi, my lucky charm. She’s the one who brought us our first case, when we were struggling to find our feet. And the most intriguing fact is that she belongs to a very precious adversary of mine. Don’t forget that I’m supposed to take good care of her!”

  “That thief!”

  “That very handsome thief, whose huge cheque did not bounce! Besides, weren’t you the one who said he had ‘film-star looks’?”

  Jatin looked abashed. “That…That was just spontaneous. Varun Thakur’s still a thief! And he tricked you into finding his diamonds.”

  Sonia nodded. The Owl. She recalled how Varun—also allegedly known as the famous international crook “The Owl”—had neatly catered to her ego and eased the location of the diamonds from her. Through his horoscope. She remembered the star combinations of his horoscope and how suspicious she had felt at that time. But that hadn’t stopped her from falling for his charms. She had been a fool and she had amends to make. One day, she would settle the score with Varun. She was just waiting for the right moment.

  The doorbell rang. “That must be the delivery man,” Sonia said.

  Jatin made a wry face and left the room. Sonia picked up the newspaper and ran her eye over the headlines. With every passing day, the urge to read the daily newspaper was taking a nosedive. Every day the papers told the same story, albeit with different characters and different locations. Violence all over the world. Train and plane wrecks or earthquakes. Riots and murders. Her eye stopped on the details of a bride-burning death. It was horrifying, the number of deaths occurring because of dowry in India. Would greed never leave the hearts of human beings? Would life ever matter? The way things stood, she may as well change her reading habits. Or, better still, quit reading the newspaper altogether.

  Jatin popped his head through the door. One hand pinched his nose to avert the smell and the other dangled a plastic bag of fish. Immediately, Nidhi lifted her nose and sniffed the air. Then, with an instinctive meow of recognition, she jumped out of Sonia’s lap and whisked after the grinning Jatin.

  Sonia chuckled. “The cat’s following the trail of fish!” She picked up the newspaper again.

  Jatin slipped in through the door and stood patiently beside the table. Sonia glanced up in surprise.

  “What’s up? It’s not like you to be so quiet.”

  “Boss, I’ve been wanting to tell you something…” Jatin began. His tone of abashment surprised Sonia.

  “What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense,” she urged, bracing herself to hear the worst. Did Jatin want leave again?

  “Well, actually…” He drew out a chair and sat down facing her.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m getting married!”

  “You’re getting married! Well, congratulations. But don’t you think you’re a little too young?”

  “I’m twenty-two. And earning,” he pointed out with an almost defiant air. “That makes me eligible—plenty—in my community.”

  “So who’s the lucky girl?”

  “There’s no girl yet. That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you, Boss. I plan to get married this year and am on the lookout for some good girl.”

  “I see. What kind of a girl stands a chance with you?”

  “Let me think.” Jatin’s face took on a dreamy look. “Pomegranate-red cheeks, hair the colour of Kokam—Mangosteen—and she should be fair, or cream-complexioned. Skin the colour of a peeled banana.”

  Sonia stared at him. “What about her nature? And her brains, like a cauliflower?” she asked, amazed.

  “Now you’re making fun of me!” Jatin looked hurt.

  “Indeed not, I was simply testing my visual and verbal abilities,” she dismissed defensively. “Anyway, the long and short of it is that you want a beautiful girl.”

  “Who can cook well.”

  “Oh yes, the divine taste of food on her fingertips,” Sonia smirked.

  “And who is good-natured and can adjust with my family.”

  “Right. A paragon of good sense, virtue, and maturity.”

  “Boss, if there’s one person in the whole world who understands me well, it’s you. That’s why I’m going to choose you…”

  Sonia’s heart almost stopped.

  “…to find me a perfect wife!” Jatin offered grandly.

  “I truly am honoured!” Sonia exclaimed, humour bubbling inside her. “But where do you expect me to find this…perfection of a woman?”

  “Oh, I’ll do some basic groundwork. You’ll just have to accompany me on meetings.”

  Sonia looked relieved. “Great. I think I can manage that!”

  “Oh, that’s not all. You have to look for a prospective wife amongst the clients and check out any good horoscopes and—”

  “Okay. I get the picture,” Sonia interrupted. She was beginning to get the distinct feeling that someway along the line, their roles of Boss and Assistant had been drastically reversed. “Now how about getting down to some work?” she asked firmly. “Can you show me the report of our last case?”

  “Right.” Jatin was all business instantly. “It’s ready in the computer.”

  “What’s ready in the computer?” a familiar voice asked.

  “Oh, hello, Mohnish!” Sonia exclaimed. “We didn’t hear you enter.”

  “I am known to have the softest footstep in the world of Journalism,” he replied, grinning. “No one hears me enter, no one hears me leave!”

  “Of course. I remember how softly you—the great journalist Mohnish Rai—barged into my office the very first time, announcing your intentions to do a feature on us loudly enough to the world!” Sonia retorted. “Come in. We ma
y as well have some chai before we begin work.”

  Jatin hastened away to follow instructions.

  “That’s a very impressive nameplate outside,” Mohnish remarked.

  “Yes, very professional, isn’t it?” she agreed.

  Mohnish relaxed in a chair and observed Sonia as she turned her attention to Nidhi, who had finished her meal and was now demanding a cuddle. Thick straight silky hair, in a shoulder-length blunt-cut, swung over an oval cream-complexioned face. Her almond-shaped honey-brown eyes over a neat nose were momentarily concentrated on the cat. She looked as lovely as ever in a comfortable pink cotton Salwar Khameez. She glanced up and he smiled.

  “What’s happening next door?” He indicated with his thumb.

  “That office finally has been let, after lying vacant for years. It’s going to be a garment store.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Jatin doesn’t like the idea one bit, and sometimes he’s right,” she acknowledged with a smile. “He’s also a young boy driven with too many opinions.”

  “Yes, Grandma,” Mohnish agreed seriously, but the twinkle in his eye made her smile.

  “I can’t help it. He’s so patronising that I feel old compared to him.”

  “Then why not spend some time with someone who can treat you your age? And in the process have a good time?”

  “Oh, that sounds incredible. Who exactly do you mean?” Sonia feigned innocence.

  Mohnish bowed his head. “Your very own good friend at your service!”

  She laughed. “What a surprise! And what exactly is your definition of a good time?”

  “Spending time together, getting to know each other…”

  “Hmm…I’ll have to see if I can find some time….”

  “Here’s the chai!” Jatin announced, and his timing made them both laugh.

  He placed their cups on the table and, whistling, returned to the outer office.

  “Seriously, Sonia…” Mohnish began, on a quieter note.