by Juggi Bhasin
‘So answer them, Doc. You have a captive audience of one. Please analyse your own behaviour.’
Tanya got up and began to strip.
‘No, don’t do that please,’ Rahul protested weakly.
Tanya stripped and stood naked before him.
‘So, as you can see, I am not wearing a wire, Rahul. I am doing this out of my own volition. I want to tell you something, Rahul. In my career, I have interacted with hundreds of clients. Diving into other peoples’ lives only made me realize the inadequacy of my own. I am estranged from my husband. The less said about him, the better. I do work that no longer challenges me. I have run into, like ships used to in the old days, that unreal place known as the doldrums. I seriously contemplate suicide when it gets so overwhelming. The real question is, who will look after the shrink? Does anyone care for the mind reader? And then, when the world is turning grey, along comes Rahul Abhyankar. A nutcase, but a brilliant one. A psychotic killer, but do I care? Let me tell you a gender secret, Rahul. Most intelligent women tolerate the men they have around them. One in a hundred lands up with someone who challenges them, who can make them step out of their skin to do anything for them.’
‘And I am the chosen one?’
‘Not by compulsion, but by choice Rahul. I want to leave the world as I know it behind me and continue my journey with you. Here’s what I am proposing, Rahul. I want to replace the queen bee in your life. You can be whoever you want with me. You can do what you wish. I will protect you from the world. I will look after you. I will ensure your survival.’
‘Transference, Tanya?’
‘Yes and no. Indeed, your life story has rubbed off on me. But this is not a simple Stockholm syndrome transference. I am not a captive of your psychosis. I want to be a willing partner. I am proposing a partnership.’
Rahul slightly smiled and held her hand. ‘I do. I accept.’
Tanya closed her eyes and pressed his hand. ‘Rahul, kneel before me and kiss my snatch. Seal our partnership.’
He did as told, and Tanya broke out in joyful laughter. ‘I am so happy, Rahul. I feel cleansed. I feel like a newborn. Take me to your bedroom.’
Rahul led her inside and Tanya could not hide her wonder at what she saw. ‘It’s beautiful, Rahul. Look at the mirror work at the foot of your bed. I can see hundreds of me going all the way back.’
He came up behind her and kissed her on her neck.
‘I am so happy you like it. Others get overwhelmed by it.’
‘No. It’s intricate. So beautiful.’
Rahul held her from the back and stroked her breasts tenderly, kissing her again. They watched each other in the mirrors as he asked her. ‘You don’t want to know how I killed them?’
‘Tell me if you want to, Rahul. It does not matter any more.’
Rahul continued to stroke her breasts, speaking softly into her ear. ‘They all came to my apartment thinking it was an investor’s meet. We made small talk, I showed them a dream, they readily bought it and drank through the evening. On the pretext of comparing cellphone models, I asked them to take out their handsets. This move was an integral part of the plan. I was aware that Fredo’s cellphone was full of Simone’s semi-nude pictures. The plan was to transfer these photos backdated to Usman’s and Dubey’s cellphones.’
Tanya relaxed from Rahul’s hand massage and asked him, ‘But that’s impossible, Rahul. You can’t backdate posts on a WhatsApp group.’
Rahul smiled and stroked her some more. ‘Nothing is too difficult for a techie of my calibre. Let me complete the story, and then I will tell you how I did it. So, they showed me their cellphones and I got up on the pretext of replenishing my glass. I drew my automatic and shot Fredo in the head. You should have seen the shock on Usman and Dubey’s faces. Usman charged at me, and I shot him three times in the gut. Dubey dived under the table and wept and pleaded for his life. I dragged him out and knocked him out cold with the butt of my automatic. Then I rearranged the crime scene. I put on disposable latex gloves and cleaned the automatic of my fingerprints. I dragged Dubey near the recliner and put the gun in his hand, pressing the trigger to fire a shot in the wall.
‘Then I quickly went to work on the three cellphones. Time was of the essence. I downloaded Simone’s photos on a drive and then wiped out the WhatsApp accounts from all the three phones. I then inserted fake WhatsApp accounts in the three phones from another drive and shared Simone’s backdated photos with the three accounts. I had created proof that all three men were in touch with each other. This lie would never make the police suspect me. It pointed a finger at the three men, suggesting that they had conspired.
‘By this time, Dubey was stirring to life. I jabbed the automatic into him and told him to drive as fast as possible to his residence. Once we reached there, I made both husband and wife do my bidding. I made Dubey take a knife from the kitchen and forced him to kill his wife. It was important for that yapping bitch to die. We found an old steel trunk and crammed Janki’s body in it. After that, I forced Dubey to drive to Sanjay Van near Vasant Kunj. Sanjay Van is a vast city forest and not too many people know about it or go there. I chose a desolate spot and made Dubey dig his own grave. I shot him in the head and then clasped his hands around the automatic to get his prints on it. I put the automatic in a plastic bag and buried Dubey. I sped back to my apartment. I had lost two hours, but I was willing to take the risk. I rearranged the crime scene once again to ensure it fit in with the version I gave to the police.
‘Finally, it came down to the most difficult part of the elaborate deception. I called up Suhel and told him I had been shot. Then I took out the automatic from the plastic bag and aimed at my shoulder. But I misjudged the shot and it went across clean, just above my heart. I threw the automatic away. I began to lose consciousness and barely had enough time to take the plastic bag and latex gloves and dump them into the lower drawer where they were never found. Then I passed out.’
Tanya looked frozen in the mirror, and Rahul straightened up.
‘I can see you have changed your mind about me. I think what I have done must finally be hitting you.’
Tanya looked him in the eye in the mirror. She did not take her eyes off him. ‘On the contrary, I would not have expected anything less intense, or ill-planned, from you. My belief in you is strengthening by the hour.’
Rahul smiled and kissed her breasts. She closed her eyes and asked dreamily. ‘How did you dispose of Simone, Rahul? How did you make her disappear from the apartment? And all when the party was on?’
He played with her nipples and whispered into her ear. ‘I didn’t as a matter of fact. I have created a platform in my house. It moves smoothly on levers and pulleys at the touch of a button. One moment you think you are standing on the floor, and in the next the floor moves to transport you to another place.’
‘Where to?’
‘To my exhibit glass cage. In less than five seconds, an aerosol spray loaded with fentanyl knocks out the trapped person in the glass cage. After the victim dies, the body is exposed to a skin-preserving bath. My glass cage has many such embalmed victims showcased. Simone is merely one of them.’
Tanya’s eyes widened unnaturally as she looked at Rahul smiling at her insanely. ‘Where’s this platform?’
‘My dear Tanya, it’s in this very bedroom, camouflaged by a two-way mirror,’ he smiled, looking into her eyes. ‘You are standing on it.’
CHAPTER 35
I am Simone. I survive as a wisp in the air. I float freely in Rahul’s apartment—from the balcony to the drawing room to the dining area and, of course, the bedroom. I have no strength left to make Rahul contrite for what he has done to me. Don’t be misled by all the stories you have read and the films you have watched about apparitions and ghosts moving furniture, tearing up walls and setting the gas plate on fire to take revenge. In all the months I have been moving around in Rahul’s apartment I have barely once been able to make a book fall to the other side of the shelf. After all, I
am a wisp in the air.
Not so long ago, I really loved him. He was a man of extraordinary intellect. He had a fire in his belly to do something different. He was never great at making speeches or using fancy lines to get people going. All he would do was to get into the trenches with us and move the wheel with us. That sheen on his face, the determined cut of his jaw and that slight film of sweat on his brow after a gruelling day at work—that was all I would need to go to the ends of the earth for him.
We were so happy together.
And then from nowhere, like it happens on a perfect summer day, the sky suddenly roiled with dark clouds. Events did not change him. He changed from within. It was not a Jekyll and Hyde kind of a change. It was a slow, sure, malignant, unstoppable change. He remained the perfect lover till the end; a man full of empathy and caring. But he was changing, surely and insidiously. There are no big things that bring about such change, well, not in my case certainly. It is the little details that shake you up. It’s the way he would look at me sometimes; it shook my soul. Late at night I would hear him talking to himself in the bathroom, sometimes forcefully and almost violently. And then came that blank expression he had reserved for me, especially in the latter part of the courtship. He would look through me as if I was an ant meant to be crushed.
You know it in your bones. This was not a man to be trusted. It seemed as if he were human but inside he was a different entity. It got so bad that my skin would crawl when he would touch me. He once said that he wanted to enter me through the anus. I was so shocked that I did not speak to him that day. The next day, he retreated and said that he had meant it as a joke. According to him, he was merely articulating some men’s porn fantasy.
You must be wondering why I did not get out of the relationship earlier. Yes, I could have done that. All said and done, he wasn’t holding a gun to my head. I had a selfish motive to continue the relationship. He had promised to give me an unheard amount of Yummimages stock on the day we announced our engagement at the party.
I thought what could be a better time to take the stock, humiliate him and walk out of his life and Yummimages? In our so-called engagement speech, I had planned to expose him to the world. I would regain my freedom and peace of mind. I had it all planned in my head.
But it did not work out that way. He understood that I knew about Suhel and him being an item. They were really thick when it came to decision-making. They could never be at odds with each other even though Rahul would often pretend to be disgusted with Suhel’s actions. Actually, the idea to make Yummimages dark and threatening was Rahul’s idea. Suhel was merely executing orders. Rahul knew I was opposed to the direction Yummimages had taken. He could see me as a major stumbling block to the kind of company he wanted to build. It came to a point when he saw me as a threat. He had made up his mind to eliminate me.
He had probably sensed that I would expose him at the party. He took pre-emptive action. It happened around the time the party was in full swing and I was with him on the balcony. As they say, the stage was set for the coup de grâce. I primed myself to walk into the party area and stop the music to make the announcement. He had already transferred the shares to my name in the morning. All I had to do was to make the announcement. I wanted to quickly use the washroom before taking that definitive step.
There are two washrooms in the apartment. The first one is mid-way between the dining area and the main hall. The other, of course, attached to his bedroom. Such was my luck that the washroom next to the drawing room was occupied. I had no choice but to use the other one. I felt better after peeing, washed my face and looked at myself in the mirror. I knew I was ready. I was going to do it.
I stepped out and there he was standing in front of me in the darkness of the bedroom. Even though it was dark I could see him smiling insanely. I could barely hear him as he whispered.
‘Simone . . . dear, dear Simone. How much I have loved you. How much I have given you. And you plan to betray me? Is that fair? Do you really think you could get away with this?’
Those were the last words I ever heard from a human being. He clicked a button somewhere and the earth moved under my feet. My insides were on fire when that damned aerosol hit me. Then it all went dark.
Now, I see him behind the glass cage once in a while. I see him sprawled naked on the bed, looking at me in the glass cage. Well, it’s not really me, you know. I am a wisp in the air travelling around in his apartment. His face is full of love and care when he looks at my embalmed body. What about me? I, or rather my embalmed face, stare back with a permanently frozen shocked face. What else do you expect when a deadly spray of fentanyl hits you!
CHAPTER 36
‘Sirjee, may I come in?’
Kripal saw a sleepy-eyed Rahul standing behind the door. ‘Inspector, it’s 5 in the morning. Most folks are in bed at this time. What could be so urgent that you had to come at this unearthly hour?’
‘Arre, Sirjee, I was missing you. Haven’t seen you in a while. Thought I should come and say my hellos to you.’
Rahul scratched his head and nodded. ‘Hello accepted. Now can I please go back to sleeping?’
Kripal forcefully made his way into the apartment. ‘Sirjee, getting up early is good for one’s health. I am so concerned about your health. Wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you, would I?’
Rahul was wide awake by now and flushed with anger. ‘Hey, have you lost your head, Kripal? How dare you barge in? What is the meaning of this?’
Kripal did not bother to reply. He whistled a tune and broke into a Haryanvi folk song. He walked through the house in no particular hurry, lifting artefacts, looking behind books, removing pillows.
Rahul shouted at him. ‘Are you deranged, Kripal? Just what in the name of hell are you doing? I should call your superiors and report you.’
Kripal stopped whistling and took out his handset. ‘Go ahead and make the call, Sirjee.’
Rahul checked himself and asked with an air of conciliation. ‘Okay . . . okay . . . what’s bugging you? You have to admit your behaviour is bizarre. And what are you looking for under those books and pillows?’
Kripal smiled and crossed his arms. ‘Sirjee, I am looking for a stash of money. They show it in the films. Rich people like you hide their ill-earned wealth in mattresses, false ceilings.’
‘Kripal, I am a corporate person. All payments are made in cheques. What the hell are you talking about?’
‘Sirjee, saanu ki that you are corporate? And money . . . well, you have to show, or rather give to me, and lots of it!’
‘For what?’
‘For keeping a lid on your big secret.’
‘Secret? What crap are you talking about?’
‘Sirjee, do you know the rate for keeping the lid on one murder? You have committed four. Maybe more. They tell me you are a maths genius. You do the math, Sirjee. You quote me a price and I will then quote mine for keeping your secret. Let’s do it, Sirjee. We agree on a rate and then you can go back to sleeping peacefully on your Sunday.’
Rahul stopped the slanging match, and invited Kripal to sit on the recliner. A smile broke across his face.
‘Okay, Kripal. I know you are not the buffoon you like people to believe. It’s a convenient mask you wear. People underestimate you and then you strike when they least suspect it. I like men like you with a razor-sharp mind. Actually, most intelligent people wear masks. As one masked man to the other, tell me what do you have on me?’
Kripal smiled broadly and sat down. ‘Now we are talking, Sirjee! The real Rahul Abhyankar finally emerges!’
‘Okay. But before we negotiate you are going to show me the proof.’
‘I would be delighted to do that, Sirjee. Actually, two sets of events confirmed my earliest suspicions about you. A couple of days ago, my nephew was playing with an old camera—the kind in which you have to insert a roll to take pictures. He kept on clicking pictures, but the flash was not working properly. He gave me the camera and I tinker
ed with the flash to discover that it was a simple problem really. The flash battery had run out. I solved the problem and the flash illuminated the picture taken at night. Suddenly, the answer to the mystery of the flashing lights a kid above your apartment had seen on the night of the party clicked like a snapshot in my mind. I understood what the kid had mistakenly thought he had seen. I raced back to your apartment complex and began my search in the building opposite yours. After intensive questioning, it came to light that there was a young stalker in the flat diagonally opposite yours, whose passion was to secretly film people. The stalker, excited at seeing the crowd at your party, installed a handycam with an external flash source on a tripod to film the events in your balcony. The concealed handycam recorded all the people who frequented the balcony and those that left. It clearly shows you and Shamonaji on the balcony. Then, at some point Shamonaji leaves to go inside the apartment. The footage clearly shows you followed her. Remember, in your testimony you said you didn’t leave the balcony for at least half-an-hour after she had left. Well, the recording clearly shows you leaving much before it. So, your alibi was false. We all know she never returned to the balcony. As a matter of fact, she disappeared after she went in and you followed her. Precisely after that, the flash battery in the handycam ran out and the flash started blinking. The kid above your apartment thought he had seen strange flashing lights. It was an act of God if you ask me. A person inadvertently filmed your movements and someone else saw the shoot and told me.’
‘Go on,’ said Rahul quietly. ‘What was your second breakthrough?’
Kripal, pleased with himself, continued. ‘I made you walk into a trap. When you suggested that Dubey had taken out Shamonaji in a housekeeping cart, I lied to you that I had not checked them. Actually, I had checked both the carts. There was no Shamonaji in them. I caught your lie, but I kept quiet about it. If you link the video footage with the lie you told me, it becomes clear that you followed Shamonaji into the apartment and murdered her.’
