Dead in a Mumbai Minute

by Madhumita Bhattacharyya

  Now, I needed to find out who Lalu Prasad really was, and why he wanted Kimaaya publicly shamed enough to kill for it.

  I dropped off Terrence and sent Vinod to Archana to pick up some cash and other supplies I needed. It was just past noon.

  Then I checked my mail. In my personal e-mail, the subject line ‘Snuffbox of dim sum’ caught my eye. I was about to hit ‘delete’ thinking it was spam, but it was just odd enough to get me thinking. This was undoubtedly a reference to the murder of Prakash Agarwal, the case that brought Shayak and me together in the first place.

  I opened it.

  I still remember the place I first held you in my arms. When darkness descends tonight you will be there again, my harbour in this tempest. Fear not the man you find there, no matter how much I have hurt you.

  No doubt in my mind, the mail was from Shayak – who thankfully had not chosen poetry as his calling. He wanted to meet me on the Titania at sunset, at the coastguard jetty.

  That was what the first two lines of his mail meant. The third threw me. Was he afraid that I’d listen to the rumours, to the police version of things, and think he was a murderer?

  I had about six hours. But there was much to do in the meantime. As my brownie-baking session had shown me yesterday, it was time to go back to the source – to pay a visit to Kimaaya Kapoor’s Mumbai flat.

  Compared to the Maaya Island affair, Kimaaya’s apartment was a hovel. It was the penthouse of a fairly old building which, like most others in the city, wore a grey and frazzled look despite being some of the most expensive real estate in the world. But this was Mumbai, and the sprawling four-bedroom duplex apartment with a view of the sea was true luxury.

  Mrs Pereira greeted me with a smile and then went to fetch Kimaaya. I didn’t know how long she would make me wait – I had called, and she had warned me that she was going out and didn’t have much time to spare.

  I took the opportunity to look around the living space. It was as different as it could be from the open, spa feel of her island getaway, and with an updated, modern vibe – all sleek lines, whites, blacks and greys. It had a softening sort of clutter provided by bric-à-brac, photographs, paintings and carpets, thrown together with artful artlessness. There were no celebrity shots, no awards on show. It felt more like Kimaaya here, more private and intimate.

  The lady herself emerged about ten minutes later, looking every inch the star. A blue sheath dress clung to her ample curves, her hair in soft curls around her face softening the smoky eyes and nude lips. She was in slippers at the moment though they would soon be replaced by designer heels, her perpetual accessory to give that much needed lift, and her legs that never-ending illusion.

  ‘Shayak is in trouble,’ I said.

  ‘About these marriage and divorce stories?’ she asked, slipping on earrings. ‘What difference would it make to him?’

  It didn’t surprise me she didn’t follow the news when it had nothing directly to do with her. ‘The police have him in a corner over this Afreen business. Somehow it is all connected with the Maaya Island case.’

  Kimaaya’s face reflected genuine concern. I told her what I could – that there was a very real chance that Shayak would be taken in by the cops.

  She collapsed on the couch. ‘I don’t know why this is happening to me.’

  ‘Not just you,’ I said, unable to hide my impatience. ‘Did you locate the papers, the original marriage and divorce documents that you said you kept in a safe here?’

  ‘Sorry, I forgot.’

  ‘Can you check now? See that they are all intact?’

  ‘Wait here,’ she said.

  ‘Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like to see where the safe is.’

  Kimaaya shrugged. ‘I guess everyone in your office knows anyway. Follow me.’

  I trailed behind Kimaaya through the hallway to a large bedroom with picture windows opening out to the Arabian Sea. She led me into a dressing room the size of my flat. She squatted to remove a floor tile, revealing a small safe.

  ‘When was the last time you accessed this?’ I asked.

  ‘Before I went to the island, to put some jewellery away.’

  ‘I’d like to check for prints before you open it.’

  She moved aside as I dusted for prints. I lifted the latents and handed her a pair of latex gloves. ‘Go ahead,’ I told her, ‘put these on.’

  As she went through the contents of the safe I scanned the prints and compared them to Kimaaya’s, which I already had on my machine. They were a match. They were also the only prints I found.

  I looked up to find Kimaaya pulling a folder full of papers out from underneath a stash of small bags and jewellery boxes. She rummaged through them and found the rehab certificate. It looked exactly like the scanned copy I had on the pen drive. If I had any doubt about its authenticity, I could forget about that now. Further down in the stack were the marriage certificate and the divorce decree.

  ‘It all looks exactly like I had left it.’

  I took them from her and knew that looking for more prints would be a waste of time, but I did so anyway.

  ‘The only prints on the safe are yours,’ I said.

  ‘I told you: whoever it was that got those documents couldn’t have got them from here.’

  ‘Oh, I’m pretty sure your safe was the source. These three items are together in only this one place.’

  ‘So you are saying this man has been in my house?’ she said in horror. ‘Is it someone I know?’

  ‘We can’t rule anyone out at the moment.’

  ‘I feel so violated! How could this person have gotten past all the security?’

  ‘They knew exactly what they were doing, and were in no rush to do it. It probably happened while you were out of town at some point.’

  ‘How do I know they didn’t take anything else?’

  ‘Have you noticed anything missing?’

  ‘Not really, but it’s impossible to keep track of everything.’

  ‘Of course anything is possible, but it seems they knew what they were looking for and where to find it.’

  ‘Such a disaster!’

  ‘Kimaaya, right now I need you to think of anything that might help Shayak. Anything about this that you haven’t told me yet?’

  ‘I really can’t think of anything,’ she said offhand. ‘What I do know is that he’ll find his way out of this mess.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘When you’ve known Shayak for as long as I have, you expect him to get into trouble – usually because he is off saving the world. He’ll tell you very little of what is actually going on but no matter how impossible it seems at the time, you’ll always know that he’ll come out of it okay.’

  I was amazed at how cavalier she could be with Shayak’s neck on the line.

  ‘You’re surprised? Don’t worry, Reema, I’ve done my share of worrying about Shayak when he was in the army, in the early days. It didn’t take me long to realize that nothing was more important to him than work. He was always in the business of putting the needs of others before his own and I must warn you that while it seems very romantic and noble at the beginning, it gets old very fast. Even if you think you aren’t as self-centred as me.’

  ‘This has nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Are you sure about that? I haven’t seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you in a long time.’

  I shook my head.

  ‘You don’t seem very convinced yourself. You’d be crazy to turn down Shayak. Believe me, I know,’ she said.

  ‘If you feel so strongly about him, why didn’t it work for you?’

  ‘Because too much time had passed and damage had been done before I realized what I had thrown away all those years ago. Shayak is a real man – he isn’t a chocolate-faced child who will take my tantrums because he wants to shine in my reflected glory. He wants a home and someone to share it with. Besides, Shayak isn’t one to revisit old mistakes.’

  I remembered h
is words in my apartment – that the door would remain open for only so long.

  ‘Shayak has made it amply clear that he believes, no matter how good he is to me as a friend, that as lovers we were all wrong.’

  Why was she telling me any of this? ‘And you?’

  ‘I have been through enough wrong relationships to know how wrong feels inside out, upside down and in between. Ever since I got cleaned up I’ve been trying to change his mind, and it is finally over for me. I am ready to move on.’

  ‘With Pratap Puri,’ I said.

  Her eyes widened. ‘How did you know that?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘It was the little things, really.’

  ‘Like what? Not even Shayak has it worked out. He knows there is someone. But …’

  ‘You aren’t the only one noticing reactions,’ I said with a smile.

  ‘I can’t have given it away. How many times have I warned Pratap to be more careful!’ she said, exasperated.

  ‘Don’t be so hard on him. One of your guests overheard someone having sex the night of the murder,’ I said, ‘and that got me thinking.’ Kimaaya’s room had been above Sandhya’s. As for partners, with Viraat out cold on the lawn and Raj away from the house in the servants’ quarters, it could either have been Shiv or Pratap. With everyone noticing how Pratap was preening for Kimaaya, it seemed he was the most likely, and if you added to that his hunt for divorce settlement fodder against his wife, it became the obvious scenario.

  ‘Uff. Busybodies, all of them.’

  ‘I don’t think it would have come up had a man not been murdered.’ I tried hard to keep the irritation out of my voice. It was not my place to judge Kimaaya for her self-absorption or anything else. She was single and had every right to look for happiness. So who better to find it with than her billionaire neighbour? What was a little divorce between lovers?

  ‘Anyway, I guess it doesn’t matter. We’ll be making it public soon enough,’ Kimaaya shrugged.

  ‘What about his wife? And all the other women he is seen with?’

  ‘The other women are a rouse – one I am sure he enjoys very much,’ she said drily. ‘He didn’t want his wife to know, so his solution is to flirt with every woman he meets.’

  He did a good job of it, too. ‘She doesn’t mind his many girlfriends, but she’d mind just one?’

  ‘Oh, she minds all of it. But she doesn’t have any evidence of anything, beyond what is reported on page 3. Pratap is careful – almost diabolically so,’ she said with a gleam of admiration.

  ‘Is she looking for it?’

  ‘I’m sure she is.’

  ‘And he is looking for an opening to divorce her without being the bad guy.’

  She shot me a look, but wouldn’t confirm nor deny it. ‘Quite a piece of work, that one. So holier-than-thou. You’d think she never did anything wrong or stupid in her life.’

  Was it possible that the man at the breakfast café I saw her with was a detective? It still wouldn’t explain the awkward attempts at conversation they were making.

  ‘She doesn’t suspect anything is on between you two?’

  ‘I sometimes wonder.’

  ‘You really don’t know why she left early the night of the party?’

  ‘No, but she and Pratap had been fighting from the moment he came back to town that day.’

  ‘Do you know about what?’

  ‘Pratap had a big work announcement coming up and he wanted her to host an event, but she refused.’

  ‘What sort of event?’ I asked.

  ‘Why don’t you read about it for yourself,’ said Kimaaya, walking out of the closet and into the bedroom. She picked up a pink paper from her bed. ‘It’s like what he is setting up on the island, the electricity stuff, but on a larger scale.’

  I had eyes only for the picture that accompanied the piece, featuring Pratap and the man from the café. It all became clear. ‘Do you know when the event is?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s tonight. That’s where I am going, in fact. I’m the brand ambassador for the project.’

  ‘Can you get me in?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  I wasn’t to be deterred by her refusal. ‘It’s important,’ I said.

  ‘It starts in an hour, and it’s strictly formal. You can’t go in looking like you are. The Prime Minister is coming!’

  ‘Introduce me to the head of security and I’ll hang about outside with the rest of the thugs and dishevelled journalists.’

  Kimaaya sighed.

  ‘It’s for Pratap. And Shayak too.’

  ‘I can’t believe I am saying this,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Fine. Come along.’

  I kept the visit, as promised, brief. This was a detour, one I really didn’t have the time for. But it would be another piece of the puzzle in place – and help out one of Titanium’s star clients.

  Kimaaya had dropped me off and disappeared, saying she would be making her entrance shortly, with more fanfare. The press conference was about to start; the party would follow in the grand ballroom next door. The media was present in full force. Not just the mainline news but the business and entertainment news as well. This evening promised everything.

  Luckily for me, with such high-powered VIPs in attendance, it all happened precisely on schedule. It was standing-room only by the time Pratap entered, as he took a seat at the top table. He was quickly followed by his CFO and his CTO. His Chief Technology Officer. The man from breakfast with Poonam. The man of the awkward conversation. The man of the black-file-left-behind.

  The din rose and abruptly fell when the lights went out and a 3-D holographic projection filled the front of the room. This was Pratap Puri’s game changer. The technology that promised green, clean energy to one village to start with – and potentially all of rural India if it went according to plan. This was his trump card ahead of the initial public offering slated for early next year. Pratap Puri had everything riding on this, his big gamble. He could have sat on his money, grown it safely and securely without tempting fate. But he dreamt big, of creating a second fortune.

  I sat it out – the presentation and the questions that followed. Once again, it was kept tight ahead of the arrival of the Prime Minister. I waited till the crowd had thinned out before approaching Pratap.

  He did not look happy to see me. ‘I thought I made myself clear – you are a ghost here.’

  No hint of scandal could sully his day. If only. ‘You’ll want to hear this.’

  I didn’t give him a chance to stop me. I launched straight into it, keeping my volume as low as possible while making sure I was being heard. Pratap’s jaw clenched and skin paled as he heard about the breakfast meeting and my suspicion that his CTO and wife had conspired to steal company secrets that could jeopardize everything.

  ‘What do we do?’ he said when I was finished.

  ‘You need to call Adlakha now and give him an update. This is not the time to be squeamish. If you move now, all may not be lost.’

  I couldn’t wait any longer. On my way out there was Kimaaya, basking in the glow of a 1000 flashbulbs. It was a world away from the woman who confessed her regret to me over losing Shayak just an hour ago.

  In that moment, I knew she was right – Shayak was not built for this, to stand beside her in the spotlight. He craved shadows and shelter and calm away from the madness of his work. This Kimaaya was just right for Pratap Puri, hungry for a legacy.

  Whether Poonam Puri saw it that way was another matter entirely.

  FOURTEEN

  I was on my way to the car when I read a message I had received mid-press conference from an unknown number. It was Shayak, with further instructions.

  ‘Third room from the right. Bring Vinod.’

  Amongst the rush of cars and security coming and going from the venue, it took longer for Vinod to find me than usual. I felt the panic rise. I couldn’t be late – not tonight.

  ‘I need to get to the Tita
nia,’ I told him. ‘Fast.’

  On the way, I was forced to consider that I was taking an awful lot on faith. How did I hope to get into a protected zone like the coastguard facility where the Titania was docked without Shayak? What if they stopped me before I could enter the secure compound?

  But when we got there, the uniformed men waved us through. ‘How?’ I simply asked.

  ‘I’ve told you before, ma’am, this is sir’s city.’

  ‘They know you?’

  ‘I have been lucky to drive sir for many years now.’

  ‘Even on his top secret assignments?’

  I saw his smile in the rear-view mirror. ‘There are some rooms or offices here?’

  ‘Yes ma’am, on the side there.’

  It seemed to be an administrative block of some sort. I looked for the third door. There were no windows.

  ‘Vinod …’

  ‘I’ll be right outside ma’am.’ Then, wordlessly, he handed me his gun. Vinod clearly was much more than a driver. I only hesitated for a moment before taking it and slipping it into my bag.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, getting out.

  I walked into the dingy room and there he sat, in the light cast by a naked yellow incandescent bulb hanging from the ceiling. I didn’t know why we were here but one look at Shayak’s tired, drawn face was enough to convince me that things were much worse than I imagined.

  I stood before him and took stock of his desolation. His mouth tried on its sardonic smile but didn’t quite make it. ‘You are upset with me for disappearing,’ he said.