by Unknown
“And now Satbir's gone, too.” Virat mused. “I don't think he could have disappeared so completely and so quickly all on his own.”
“Not on his own, no.” Aditya said. “Satbir doesn't realise what he's gotten himself into. He got his emporium and a drug empire, but from that moment on his life belonged to someone else. You know why I was sent to Delhi in the first place. You know who I'm looking for. The man who supplied the money for the drug lab, and arranged to have Robert murdered, and Satbir removed. It's the same man I've been searching for all this time.”
“So the man who helped Satbir flee...”
Aditya nodded grimly. “X.”
Chapter 7: The Accidental Thief
The hunt for Satbir Singh continued for the next two weeks. Sources were questioned, homes were raided, and phones tapped. But the man seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth.
“He must've gone underground.” Virat said to Aditya as the two sat one day in the main room of the police station after lunch. “Probably locked away in a house somewhere with the windows bolted. If he's still in Delhi. Hasn't tried to contact any of his associates at the emporium either.”
“I was so sure Ramakanth Yadav was mixed up in the drug business with him.” Aditya sighed. “But he really doesn't seem to have known anything about what was going on in the ruins for the past three years. It does fit into what I've seen of X's management strategies within his own organisation. Very few people are trusted with information in the first place. And no one person knows anything more about the work than his own role in it.”
They reached the reporting room, and saw Shahid sitting at the main desk. He was listening to a slight, balding man gesticulating excitedly. Shahid was resting his head on his palm as he nodded, a glassy look in his eyes. He looked up at Aditya and Virat and beckoned to them urgently.
The two walked towards the table, and were able to hear the balding man clearly.
“It's outrageous.” The man was saying, his high pitched voice verging on the hysterical. “She's been stealing from me for weeks. And what's really infuriating is that she's so brazen about it! But now she has gone too far. It was a sacred gift bequeathed to me from Swami Shankaracharya!”
“Here's someone who can help.” Shahid said, gesturing to Virat. “He's a detective. Why don't you tell him the problem. This is Mr. Prahlad Kakkar. He's got a complaint about thefts at his house.”
Mr. Kakkar seemed glad of the oppurtunity to recount his woes to a fresh pair of ears.
“Pleased to meet you, detective. I was just telling inspector Shahid about the ring bequeathed to me by his holiness Swami Shankaracharya. It's one of my most prized possessions. The most prized, in fact. And now it's gone!”
“Do you suspect anyone?” Virat asked.
“I don't suspect, I know!” Mr. Kakkar's voice rose dramatically. “It was the nursing maid. We hired her recently to take care of my grandmother, who had a terrible accident two months ago. Ever since she arrrived in the house many little things have been disappearing. First there was the silver brooch. Then my gold signet. And now my ring, whose value is incalculable! I had to make so many donations to the Swamiji's charity before he blessed me with the ring.”
“If you're so sure the maid is the culprit, why don't you have her room searched?”
“But that's just it.” Mr. Kakkar said, leaning forward eagerly. “I have had her room searched. There was nothing there. She's too clever to keep her loot in her room. And everytime I confronted her, she denied everything and threatened to quit. We won't find another fully qualified maid at such short notice. Today is my aunt's birthday, and we've organised a family party in her honour.”
“What exactly do you want us to do?” Shahid asked patiently. “Do you want us to search Kusum's room as well?”
“I was hoping you could send a detective to our house today.” Mr. Kakkar said. “The party's going to start soon. There'll be a lot of expensive presents lying around. The detective accompanies me to my house, I say he's a friend whom I invited to the party. The detective could keep an eye on the maid, and if she tries to steal anything he'll catch her in the act, and then she won't be able to deny anything.”
Shahid nodded as he rose to his feet, relieved to put an end to the discussion. “Fine. If it'll ease your mind, I'll send Virat with you.”
“I actually have that case to get back to.” Virat said quickly.
Shahid stared at him. “What case?”
“That case. You know, the one with the kidnapping.”
“Don't worry about that one.” Shahid said smoothly, coming out from behind his desk. “We solved it already. Turns out the butler did it.” He put an arm around Virat and steered his away, lowering his voice to mutter, “Mr. Kakkar is a very generous donor to the police charity ball. I'd like him to continue to be as generous to us as he is to his Swamiji.”
“I don't want to babysit a bunch of presents at a birthday party.” Virat whispered.
“Too bad. All your cases can't involve serial killers and drug empires.” He turned to Mr. Kakkar with a smile. “It's settled then. Virat will go with you to keep an eye on the presents as well as the maid.”
“Wonderful.” Mr. Kakkar beamed, rising quickly to his feet. “Thank you so much, inspector. We'd better get going then.” Virat returned the smile half heartedly. Mr. Kakkar moved out the room towards his parked car.
“Have fun at the party.” Aditya said to Virat with a grin as they walked out of the room. “Bring me a piece of the cake if it's chocolate.”
“You're coming too.” Virat said, grabbing Aditya's wrist
“What? No way!” Aditya protested. “This isn't my department.”
“I don't care.” Virat said, dragging him towards the parking lot. “If I have to spend the evening listening to a bunch of middle aged guests complain about the catering, I'm not doing it alone.”
The two walked out out of the station to where Mr. Kakkar waited for them in his brand new scorpio.
“This is Aditya Matthews.” Virat said to him. “We'll be able to use his expert advice. He's a criminal psychologist, and also an expert on maidservant related thefts. He's written about them extensively in crime journals. ”
“Really?” Mr. Kakkar looked impressed. “I'm so glad to meet you.” he siezed Aditya's hand. “Call me Prahlad. Thank you for coming, Mr. Matthews.”
“Not at all.” Aditya switched on his smile as he climbed into the backseat. “How many guests are you expecting at the party.”
“Just the usuall dozen or two.” Prahlad said as he started the car. “I'm sure you'll enjoy the party. You'll get to meet all the members of the Kakkar family clan.”
“Can't wait.” Virat said with a sigh as he settled back in his seat.
* * *
Prahlad lived in Vasant Colony. Twenty minutes of driving through the elegant neighbourhood filled with palatial houses, he drove them into the driveway of a handsome, two storey house. They entered through the front archway into a large and roomy verandah, and a babble of voices rose. There were at least ten people in the house, and all were trying to make themselves heard over the din. A cake laden with chocolate frosting was laid out on the table. Most of the people seemed to maidservants and helpers.
“Let's get to the main intorduction first.” Prahlad said with a beaming smile. “This is my aunt, Mrs. Premlata Kakkar. But everyone calls her Pammiji.”
Pammiji was a grey haired lady with a hawklike nose and piercing, beetle black eyes. She was wrapped closely in layers of shawls. A nurse hovered behind her, who seemed to be the girl Prahlad suspected.
“Got back at last, have you?” She asked Prahlad. She turned to stare at his companions beadily.“Who are these two?”
“They're my friends from the club.” Happy said to her brightly, his voice rising a few notches. “They wanted to pay their respects to you on your birthday, so I invited them to stay for the party. I hope that's okay?”
“At least we'll
have some people here who're under forty.” Pammiji grunted. “What are your names?”
“I'm Virat.” He gestured to himself. “And this is Aditya.”
“What's that?” She asked, bending towards them. “Speak up, can't you? Youngsters these days eat up half their sentences before speaking.”
Virat repeated the introduction in a louder voice, and then practically yelled it a third time. Finally, Pammiji seemed satisfied.
“You two don't look like brothers.” She said, studying them closely. “This one is quite a bit shorter than the other one.”
“I never said they were brothers, Pammiji.” Prahlad said hurriedly before Aditya could think of a response. “They're just my friends.”
“What are they your friends for? You look like there uncle.” Prahlad looked abashed, and opened his mouth feebly, trying to think up an explanation. But Pammi kept talking. “Anyway, you barely made it back in time. You'll need to sort out the presents that have arrived. They're all lying in a mess.” She pointed towards a table kept near the back in the center where a pile of brightly packaged gifts had been assembled.
“It was just this small matter I needed to attend to.” Prahlad murmured to no one in particular, trotting over to the table. “I made sure I would be back in time. Please, please make yourself at home.” He added to Aditya and Virat, throwing a darkly significant look at the woman fetching a glass of water for Pammiji.
“How do you want to do this?” Aditya murmured to Virat as the two wandered slowly around the party area. The verandah was gaily decorated with balloons and confetti, and several of the helpers wore party hats.
“Keep an eye on the helpers in general, and the nurse in particular.” Virat replied, surveying the room. “The presents are kept near the center. I don't think anyone would risk stealing anything in front of so many people. We're mainly here to put Prahlad's mind at ease.”
The party guests arrived in a rush. Each had a name and a special designation according to their relation to the family. Kapil Chacha. Rekha Bua. Shanti Mausi. Kapoor uncle. The introductions flew thick and fast. Prahlad was in his element, hopping from one newcomer to another. Greeting, beaming, gesticulating. There was the middle aged uncle from Connaught Place loudly declaring the difficuly of parking his ferrarri outside. Another aunt who greeted everyone with a smile as bright as it was fake. A small, harrassed looking couple dragging a small, harassed looking teenager behind them to give Pammiji a kiss. The party ranks sooned swelled to fifteen with a bevy of maids and workers hovering in the background offering snacks and collecting presents to be deposited in a pile on a corner table.
“Quite a good turnout today, Prahlad.” Kapil chacha said in greeting. He had wide protuberent eyes and a gravelly voice, and a habit of turning every conversation around to his personal life.
“And here's the birthday girl.” He greeted, swooping down upon Pammiji for a kiss. “Eighty three years young, isn't that right, Pammiji?” He laughed heartily.
“You'll get to my age soon enough, then you can make jokes about it.” She retorted. “Where's your husband, Shanti?”
“Suraj had a headache.” Shanti mausi annouced. She was a small, birdlike creature with an alert and energetic manner. “He's sorry he can't come. But he's been working overtime for weeks preparing for a presentation in China. We'll be going there for a week.” The last line was spoken in the manner of a modest boast.
“I went there two years ago.” Kapil chacha said. “Strange place. They eat dogs there, you know. Very strange. I knew a man there who'd eaten nothing but dog his whole life.”
“That's why I like to stick to western countries for my holidays, bhaisaab.” Mr. Kapoor joined the conversation. He and his wife were a rotund couple. While Mr. Kapoor had bloodshot eyes and sported a beer gut, he affected a breezy manner and an air of geniality. Mrs. Kapoor had a high girlish laugh that was a shade too high to be natural. Their daughter Sheetal stood observing the party guests from a distance. She was a pretty girl, but her good looks were overshadowed by a sullen expression.
Shanti Mausi laughed in a sligtly nervous manner to intimate her part in the conversation. She bent over Mrs. Kakkar rearranging her dress and straightening her hair. “Are you quite comfortable, biji? Do you need another pillow?”
“I'm fine, Shanti, don't fuss.” Mrs. Kakkar waved her aside and addressed Kapil Chacha. “So your operation was sucessful?”
“Of course.” He pounded his chest lightly. “Everything went like clockwork during surgery. Triple bypass. Take more than that to put me out of commission. I didn't even feel any pain. Doctor's said they'd never seen anything like my recovery speed.”
“Keep your schedules free in april.” Mr. Kapoor put in. “You might have to attend a wedding at our house, if things go according to plan.” He patted his daughter's shoulder, who had suddenly stiffened.
“Really?” Rajjo aunty stared at him with interest. She had the kind of mousey personality that tended to go unnoticed until she had spoken. “So have you finally found a boy for Sheetal?”
“Yes, we've been very fortunate.” Mr. Kapoor said. “My friend Shyam Rawat from Ashok builders. He's in real estate, you know? Well, he owns a bunch of houses in old Delhi. His son Shekhar is studying to become a chartered accountant and is looking to settle down soon. Well, we told him about our Sheetal. Showed them her picture, and the boy fell for her on the spot.”
“Of course he would, she's so pretty.” Mrs. Kapoor interjected proudly.
“Yes, well, seeing as they want to get the kundli matched as soon as possible, and Sheetal is finally done with her studies, the timings really worked out beautifully, don't you think?”
“I thought Sheetal was doing her Phd, biji?” Shanti mausi inquired of Mrs. Kapoor with an innocent air. Sheetal expression darkened but she did not look at her aunt.
Mr. Kapoor let out a bellow of laughter. “Oh, that was just her fancy at the time. I knew she wouldn't be able to do it, but she is so stubborn. So I made her a deal. She'd get one year to attend coaching for the NET entrance exam, and if she didn't qualify, she'd let us decide what she'll do next. Well, as expected she failed, and that means now she has to listen to us for a change and let us help her settle down in life and start a family.”
Mr. Kapoor stared around the room, smiling complacently. Sheetal got up abruptly and stalked over to the food table.
“Children these days are so headstrong.” Mr. Kapoor chuckled. “She still has to throw a tantrum before the wedding, but you watch. She'll be thanking me in a few years.”
“What happened to your ring, Prahlad?” Rekha bua asked suddenly, reaching for his arm. “I thought you were never supposed to take it off?”
“I've misplaced it.” Prahlad said, with a shifty glance at Virat and Aditya. “I was meaning to look for it after the party.”
“Might not be lost. Probably stolen. With so many servants roaming around the house unchecked, one of them is bound to get itchy fingers. You should ask them all to turn out their pockets.”
“No, no.” Prahlad said hurriedly. “Let's not spoil the mood. The ring will turn up, I'm sure.”
“We've had things disappear in our house too.” Kapil Chacha shouted from the other end of the room. “That silver brooch. You remember, Rajjo? You brought it out last month to show to Pammiji when she was staying with us. Next day it was gone. Threatened the manservant with the police, but these chaps are so brazen these days. Kept insisting Rajjo must've misplaced it. Sacked the man on the spot. You won't get away with such brazeness in my house!” There were murmurs of admiration and agreement from the group.
