The Forbidden Daughter

by Shobhan Bantwal

  “So he ended up murdering Tilak. He claims it was self-defense.”

  “Dear God!” Pressing her hand to her mouth, Neela sat in silence for a minute.

  Karnik could see the grief she was suffering—feel it. She had never had any part in his actions, and yet, he now realized, as his wife, she suffered just as much as he—perhaps far more.

  She looked up. “Clearly the murder investigation was hushed up somehow. But what was Gowda doing here today, at this time of the night?” She searched his face with narrow-eyed suspicion. “Is he blackmailing you?”

  “Not really. But the news is bad—worse than the murder.”

  “What could be worse than murder?”

  “When he couldn’t find the records in Isha Tilak’s house, he kidnapped her infant and took her hostage.”

  “Kidnapped!” Neela drew in a stunned breath.

  “I tried to tell him to return the child, but the man will not listen. He is a pervert, a lunatic.”

  “Has he . . . killed the child, too?” Neela sounded like she was terrified to ask.

  He shook his head. “He says the baby is with his wife and he will return her when Isha Tilak hands over the abortion data.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” she demanded.

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  “What can I do?” he asked with a helpless shrug. “He is a policeman—and a ruthless killer.”

  “Then ring his boss, that Patil chap, right now, and tell him everything!”

  “Tell him what?” Karnik managed to work up a bitter laugh.

  “That I’m an abortionist and that I had Tilak killed and his child kidnapped? I will end up in prison for the rest of my life.

  Your life, my life, and our children’s lives will be ruined.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t think of all this when you started performing those abortions?”

  “I did . . . in the beginning. But as time went by—”

  “You ignored your conscience,” she interrupted. “Greed got the better of you,” she said with a resigned sigh. “So what do we do now?”

  He rubbed his chest and shoulder. Perspiration was gathering on his face. He knew he was in the first stages of a heart attack.

  “That’s what I was trying to think about when you came in.”

  “What’s there to think, Vivek? A man was brutally murdered because of you, and now his child is missing. Poor Isha Tilak must be beside herself.”

  “If I go to the police, I’m ruined, Neela.” Breathing was becoming harder.

  “You were ruined the day you performed your first abortion,” she informed him matter-of-factly.

  She was so right. Tears of regret gathered in Tilak’s eyes once again. His soul was ruined a long time ago—if he had one left anymore. His reputation was going the same route. His heart was giving out. The pressure on his chest was increasing by the second.

  How had he managed to sink to this level? What kind of monster had he turned into?

  He took his wife’s hand. “I should confess to the police.”

  She nodded. “At least you will have saved an innocent baby from a brutal death. It is your last chance to redeem yourself.

  And apologize to Isha Tilak and her family. The poor girl has suffered such hell because of you.”

  He rubbed his chest and struggled for breath. “I’m not . . .

  feeling well, Neela,” he admitted.

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  She gazed at him for a moment. “Vivek, are you having a heart attack?”

  “Y-yes,” he whispered. “I may not be able to . . . rescue my soul after all.”

  She took his clammy hand. “Yes, you will! I won’t let you die, Vivek.” Then she picked up the phone and rang for an ambulance.

  He tried to take a breath but managed to suck very little air.

  The agony was spreading like fire from his chest through his entire body. With some effort he whispered, “Death will be better . . .

  than prison.”

  “No! You will live! And if they send you to prison we’ll find you a good lawyer.” Tenderly she loosened the buttons on his shirt and wiped the sweat off his brow with the handkerchief he’d left on the desk. “Don’t worry. I will ring Isha Tilak and apologize for both of us.”

  “But . . . this is . . . not your fault,” he argued weakly. His vision was beginning to blur.

  “As husband and wife, we’re in this together.”

  “But . . .”

  “Shh, don’t talk. Save your breath.” She took off his glasses and put them aside. “I hear the ambulance.”

  Two minutes later he was being lifted onto a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance. “Neela . . .” he called out, but couldn’t complete his sentence.

  She patted his hand, her eyes filling with tears. “I know. I will take care of everything.”

  Karnik’s last conscious thought was of the kidnapped child.

  Lord, please save that child.

  Chapter 30

  Isha hugged the tiny yellow dress with the white dots against her chest. Diya had been wearing it the day before. It smelled like Diya. The baby had been changed out of the dress and into clean pajamas before being placed in her cradle.

  And sometime after that she’d been abducted. Even now they didn’t know exactly when she’d been taken. It was somewhere between the hours of ten and midnight, after Isha had checked on the sleeping kids and Sundari. She’d made sure all the windows were secured before she’d locked the door behind her and gone to work.

  Bad decision. Shortly after that, the kidnapper had managed to break in, destroy the place, and snatch the baby.

  Isha could deal with the invasion of her home, the ruined furniture, bedding, and personal belongings. But Diya’s disappearance had left a gaping wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.

  Isha sat in the semidarkness of her bedroom, all the life squeezed out of her. It’s all my fault, she rued for the thousandth time, the tears rolling down her cheeks. The previous night’s numbness had diminished, only to be replaced by tears and pain. And guilt. Despite knowing how dangerous the situation had become, and in spite of being warned by Harish again and again, she had still neglected her children and gone over to the other flat to sew her dresses, to conduct her business.

  If only she’d done her work right here at home, Diya would 270 Shobhan Bantwal

  have been here now, crawling, making baby talk, and getting into all kinds of mischief.

  Isha should have at least left that stupid disk and the spreadsheet in the almirah. The intruder would have taken that and left Diya alone. Maybe. Who knew how evil minds worked?

  As she stared at the empty cradle with its ruined mattress in the glow of the nightlight, Isha could picture Diya’s sparkling, long-lashed hazel eyes, and smell the baby powder on her neck.

  Isha could almost feel it now—the oh-so-soft skin, the warm weight of Diya in her lap, the steady thumping of the baby’s little heart beating against her breast when she fell asleep in her arms.

  Where was Diya? Was she crying now for her mother and sister and Sundari? Was she locked up somewhere, all alone? The poor darling didn’t like the dark. Was she cowering in some filthy, smelly, godforsaken hole, suffering excruciating hunger pangs? Or was it too late for any of that? Had the breath been snuffed out of her tiny lungs already?

  Don’t even go there, Isha warned herself. She couldn’t afford to think like that. Her baby couldn’t be dead, not now, not when Isha had fought so hard to keep her alive in her womb against all odds, not when she’d made sure the baby had a decent home and a happy life, not when she was surrounded by love despite everything that was going on around her.

  Diya’s birthday was less than three weeks away. Would she see her first birthday at all?

  Sheila abruptly walked into the bedroom and flipped on the light switch. She carried a cup and saucer in her hand. “Isha, you can’t sit in the dark
all day,” she scolded.

  The room was flooded with light and Isha blinked at Sheila, snapping out of her misery for a second. “I don’t really care if there’s light or not.”

  “Look, Sundari made you some refreshing gavthee chah.”

  Lemon-grass tea.

  Isha ignored the tea as well as Sheila’s poor attempts at cheerfulness. Despite her usual impeccable appearance, Isha knew THE

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  Sheila was just as worried as she. Her eyes, too, were puffy from weeping.

  “Where’s Priya?” Isha asked. Since Diya had disappeared she had felt the need to keep a strict eye on her other child. She’d kept her close to herself and hadn’t even sent her to school that morning. What if the kidnapper was out there, watching, waiting? What if he took Priya, too? It was inconceivable.

  “Priya’s fine,” Sheila replied. “She’s at our house, playing with the boys. She’s being watched closely by the servants and Rambo.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. Rambo is turning into an excellent guard dog. He doesn’t let any strangers within fifty feet of our property. Besides, Harish just called there and talked to Priya. He’s worried about her safety, too, you know.”

  “But the kidnapper could be watching your house.”

  Sheila inhaled a deep breath, clearly summoning some patience. “We had to send her there, Isha, and you know why. It’s not healthy for a child to be surrounded by so much tension.

  She needed to be with her cousins and Rambo.”

  “Okay. As long as she’s safe . . .” Sheila was right, of course, but Isha was still worried about Priya. She was terrified of losing her, too. “Where’s Harish?” He had become her solid, un-shakeable source of support. He was not only the first to arrive with help, but he was holding her hand through this crisis more than anyone else. Somehow she’d come to depend on him much more than she’d expected to.

  He was right. This was their problem now.

  “Harish is in the drawing room.” Sheila inclined her head toward the door. “He canceled his appointments and spent most of the day here, helping Sundari and me clean up the mess in the house. After that he’s been on the phone, talking to all kinds of people, trying to get any information he can.”

  “He’s been such a comfort.” Isha glanced at Sheila. “And so have you . . . and Sundari.”

  “Phillip, his friend, has been working hard on our behalf, 272 Shobhan Bantwal

  too.” Sheila offered her the cup. “Here, have some tea. You’ll feel better.”

  Shaking her head, Isha hugged the dress even closer. “I’m not hungry.”

  Clucking like a mother hen, Sheila sat down beside her on the edge of the bed. “You didn’t sleep at all last night after you found out Diya was missing, and you haven’t eaten a thing all day. Come on, have a biscuit at least. You need to keep up your strength.”

  Isha laid her tired head on Sheila’s shoulder. “How can I eat or drink when my baby could be dying of hunger? The last meal Diya ate was before she was put to bed last evening.” Her voice wobbled.

  Sheila laid the cup on the nightstand so she could put an arm around Isha’s waist. “She’ll be home soon. Patil should be getting back into town, and I’m sure he’ll do everything he can to find her. Palgaum’s entire police force will be looking for her.”

  “I wish we could hand over the evidence to someone now and have them arrest Karnik. I want this to be over.”

  “But we can’t hand it over to anyone but Patil. We don’t know who the rotten apple in the police department is. There could be more than one—a whole bunch. We can’t risk it now.”

  “But the kidnapper hasn’t called or anything.” She noticed the time on the clock next to her bed. It read 6:55 PM. “It’s been more than twenty hours since Diya disappeared and there’s no communication whatsoever. He could have killed her by now.

  He killed Nikhil, didn’t he?”

  “Shh, don’t say that! Don’t even think that. He wants something you have, and as long as that’s of value to him, he won’t hurt her. She’s his insurance policy.”

  “Then why hasn’t he called yet? I hate that dreadful old man, Karnik. I know he’s behind this. And yet the police won’t do anything about it.”

  “Officially they can’t do anything.”

  “It’s so obvious that he’s the villain. What more proof do they need? This thing occurred right after I confronted him. Nikhil’s murder happened immediately after he lodged a complaint THE

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  about Karnik with the police. The connection is so clear and still they won’t as much as question him—not even when it’s staring them in the face.”

  “You and I know it’s Karnik. At this point, I bet the police are pretty sure about it, too. But he can claim he knows nothing about this, Isha. He could have hired any petty criminal to carry out his orders. What can the police do with no evidence of any kind?”

  “But I have evidence—”

  “A bunch of names and dates,” interrupted Sheila. “What does that prove? Don’t forget Karnik is a respected man in our town and has considerable influence in government circles. And so do all those people whose names appear on your list.”

  “But the police are law-enforcement officials, for God’s sake!

  Can’t they do something? ”

  “Not can’t, but won’t, if they’re being bribed handsomely by Karnik.”

  “I’m willing to give every rupee I have if it’ll bring my baby back.” The waiting was so frustrating. Every minute felt like a lifetime.

  Sheila handed her a clean handkerchief. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything, but since you brought up the matter of money . . .

  I . . . um . . . think I should mention it. Baba and Ayee have offered to pay a ransom if the kidnapper demands it.”

  Isha pushed away from Sheila, her eyes wide. “I don’t believe this!”

  “I’m not making this up, Isha. Baba himself called me this morning. Last night when I rang them to tell them what happened, Ayee got very upset. She must have talked him into making the offer. They want Diya returned to you.”

  “I don’t want their money! I don’t care how upset Ayee is and I care even less about Baba’s sentiments. This is the child they both loathe. Now all of a sudden they want to rescue her?”

  “Both of them are beginning to recognize the mistakes they’ve made, Isha.”

  “Then let them stew in their regrets. It’ll serve them right. I don’t want their help or one single paisa of their precious money.”

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  Sheila put a hand on Isha’s arm. “Look, I know you’re upset, but please try to look at it rationally.”

  “Do they have a single rational bone in their bodies? Tell me what’s rational about carelessly aborting a baby because it happens to be a girl.”

  “Ayee’s brush with death and Priya’s valiant efforts to save her have changed Ayee’s attitude completely, and consequently Baba’s, too,” argued Sheila. “If you see him now, you’ll realize he’s not quite the same man he used to be when Nikhil was alive.”

  Isha snorted in disdain. “Fine time to come to their senses, isn’t it? Now that they know my child could be tortured or dead, they’ve decided they want her back? Is this some kind of sick joke?”

  Harish must have heard her tirade because he appeared at the door. His troubled gaze settled on Isha for a second, then went to Sheila. “What’s going on?”

  Sheila sighed. “I just informed her about Baba’s offer to pay a ransom if necessary.”

  Harish took a cautious step inside. “And?”

  Isha’s head immediately snapped up. “I don’t want Ayee and Baba’s help in any way, shape, or form.” The tears were falling now, fast and furious.

  Hands thrust inside his pockets, Harish stood for a moment, obviously turning her words over in his mind. “But you may be forced to acc
ept their help, Isha.”

  “No! I’ve already done more than my share of compromising by letting my children visit Ayee during her illness. I want nothing more to do with those self-centered, heartless people.”

  Before Harish or Sheila could respond, his phone rang. He flipped it open and answered. Both women sat motionless, hoping to catch every bit of Harish’s conversation. His face looked grim as he listened and responded in monosyllables. “All right.”

  He sighed. “Just keep me informed.”

  The instant he hung up, Isha looked up at him. “Is Diya . . . ?”

  Her voice came out in a frantic whisper. “Is my baby dead?”

  He pocketed the phone and shook his head. “No, Isha. Patil is on a flight back from Delhi. Unfortunately, he has to change THE

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  flights in Mumbai and there’s only one flight from Mumbai to Palgaum each day, and that doesn’t arrive until early morning.

  Phillip took a taxi to the airport so he can wait for Patil to arrive and catch him before Patil has a chance to go to his office.”

  “What took the man so long to get out of Delhi? Doesn’t he know this is a matter of life and death?”

  “Patil was attending some police officers’ conference and he was a special speaker. Unfortunately he’s the only one I trust, so I asked Phillip to wait for him to come back before producing the records. The minute he arrives in Palgaum, Phillip will personally hand them over.”

  Isha buried her face in her hands. It was fifteen and a half months since Nikhil was gone. It had taken that long for this day to arrive. Was Karnik going to get what was coming to him?

  Was Nikhil’s death finally going to be avenged?

  But at the moment, that fact was secondary to finding her child. She dried her eyes and nose. “But what about Diya? Is Karnik holding her hostage?”

  “Karnik is too clever to hold her hostage. He no doubt has someone else doing his dirty work.” Harish glanced at the tea in the cup and the biscuits sitting in the saucer. “Isha, you should eat something.”

  “The thought of eating makes me sick.” She looked up at him. “Would you be able to eat if it were your baby that had disappeared?”