Killer Moves

by Varsha Dixit

  Aisha’s eyes widened as she saw who stood at the door. The one she had just accused of murder.

  Kabir!

  He stood there tall and angry, his furious dark eyes focused on her.

  Aisha slithered off the bed. “I . . . was . . .” she stuttered.

  “Get out of my house.” Kabir’s frame seemed to shake with rage, and he took a step forward, his cheeks clenched, his expression twisted and ugly. Abruptly, he turned sharply and left the room.

  Kiara and Aisha exchanged worried glances. “I’ll apologize to that model, you go and apologize to him.” Kiara’s voice was concerned.

  “Let’s switch?” Aisha grimaced.

  “He will fire me, Boo!”

  “He will kill me, Kia.” Aisha whispered, her hands twisting her skirt.

  “Kabir was a suspect but the police found no evidence of him being involved in anyway. He was wholeheartedly cleared. His wife Lavina was an ex-alcoholic and had a history of mental breakdowns. All this came out after her death. Kabir had no idea. Boo, she was sitting drunk on a balcony railing. It was an accident.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “I’m your niece; I do my research too. Except, I do it myself and not have my gossipy assistant do it.”

  “Rustom doesn’t gossip.” Aisha scratched her brow.

  “That’s all he does.”

  Aisha sat down, her expression miserable.

  “So, you are going to apologize to Kabir, right?” Kiara jutted her lower lip out.

  “You really want this assignment that bad? Are you sure? Because if you are not, we can just slip out of this place. No one will notice.” Aisha beseeched.

  Kiara watched her silently. Her firm look was her answer.

  “Fine! But I have a condition too. I’m staying in Panaji. Till you are here, I’m here. I won’t interfere with your work. Deal?”

  Kiara stayed quiet.

  “Deal, Kia?”

  Her niece gave in. “Fine! Deal.”

  Aisha pressed a quick kiss to Kiara’s cheek. “Do take the painkiller and keep your foot elevated.”

  Kiara nodded and squeezed Aisha’s hand. “I will. But how will you get to the hotel?”

  “I’ll manage, Kia.” Aisha went to the door.

  “Hold on!” Kiara grabbed her cell from the nightstand and pressed a few buttons. “I’ll just order a cab for you.”

  Aisha gave her a flying kiss. “Order a coffin too! And please lock your door.”

  Chapter 18

  Standing at the back porch, Kabir stared at the inky black ocean with crashing waves. His insides burned. His temples hurt because of the fierce clenching of his jaw. By now he should have been used to the allegations, but he wasn’t. They still seared him.

  After calming Preet, Kabir had followed Kiara and her aunt. He had been irritated, all set to rant at them about professionalism, make them squirm a bit, especially the aunt, and then let them off the hook. But hearing Aisha’s sweet voice, he had paused outside the door, eavesdropping on their conversation.

  It may not be right, but it seemed fair for the aunt had tricked him on the previous night.

  The nervousness on Aisha’s face under the pier had confirmed that last night she knew precisely who Kabir was.

  Hearing her talk to her niece, Kabir had felt a grudging respect for Aisha. She had raised her niece, loved her to a fault, and like every parent, she was scared to let go of Kiara in the big bad world. He had felt a softening in him.

  Maybe I had swarmed her last night? Perhaps she had wanted to come clean to me but was nervous? Was she as taken by the magic of the night as I was?

  Kabir could not stay outside anymore. He had stepped into the room. And then he had heard Aisha confess the actual reason she wanted to whisk Kiara away.

  Kabir felt his body quiver with rage—fury at the unfairness of his life. The women he loved never lasted for long in his life and not by his choice. Kriti, the twin sister he adored, had plummeted to her death. His mother never got over the death of her favorite child and moved out of the country and away from him.

  After several meaningless flings, he had met Lavina at one of Shreya’s party. They had hit it off instantly as if a connection existed between them. Kabir felt like he had found his soulmate. He could not wait to get married to Lavina, overlooking her reluctance or nerves. Even Shreya had suggested to slow things down but Kabir had never listened.

  I was in love! His mouth twisted.

  For a year, everything was great and then Lavina went back to her old ways—drinking. Kabir begged her to stop; they had arguments that led to separate bedrooms and separate lives. Kabir took solace in his work, cutting Lavina and the pain she caused out of his life.

  He did not hate Lavina for drinking or breaking their marriage, but he did hate her for dying.

  The day Lavina died, all hope for a normal life perished. Hope was repugnant to Kabir, love blasphemous. His work was the only thing he had, the only thing that made him feel alive.

  Soft footsteps stopped behind Kabir. The tinkling noise of light jewelry and a familiar scent brought him out his bottom-of-the-barrel thoughts and reignited his rage fueled by pain. He spun around.

  Aisha stood there, the light of the moon falling on her face, enhancing her skittish eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” she said softly.

  “Sorry for what?” Kabir challenged.

  “Sorry that you heard what—”

  Kabir lunged and grabbed Aisha by her arms and pulled her close. A startled squeak escaped her mouth even as she tried to free herself.

  “Why the surprise? Isn’t this how murderers behave?” Kabir snarled in her face.

  “Let me go. Right now.” Aisha stopped struggling and met his eyes squarely, her mouth clamped into a thin line.

  Kabir studied her face. He saw no fear, only contempt. He tightened his grip on Aisha’s shoulders, digging into her soft flesh. Still no fear, only pain!

  Her pain brought some sense to his turbulent mind.

  Kabir pushed her away. He turned away. “Leave and never come back.”

  Behind him, she cleared her throat. “Till Kiara is here I will stay. But I won’t come in your way.”

  “You will not enter my house.”

  “Okay.”

  Kabir pivoted around and said slowly, for emphasis. “I will woo Kiara. Saying yes or no is her prerogative, not her aunt’s.”

  Aisha’s eyes ignited like the tip of a sparkler. “Over my dead body!”

  “I’m used to dead bodies, right?”

  Aisha stared at him, speechless.

  Kabir veered and walked away from her.

  #

  “The jerk! I will kill him myself.” Muttering repeatedly, Aisha tugged the cloth satchel that hung across her body.

  The cheek of that man! Kia will listen to me. I will forbid her from going anywhere near him. Aisha paused. The more I prohibit Kia, the more she will freaking do it! She has too much of her dad in her.

  A sound from the side distracted her.

  White circular pillars lined up on either side of the back porch. Aisha thought she saw a dark shape behind the pillar on the far left.

  “Hello?” Aisha called out, narrowing her eyes in that direction.

  The moon had gone behind the clouds. There was hardly any light on the porch. Aisha took a few steps in that direction. She thought the shape moved.

  “Hello?” Aisha increased her pace. She turned around the pillar in anticipation. “Got you.”

  The corner was dark but empty.

  “What? I was sure I saw someone.” Aisha took a few steps further and saw the side of the garden that wrapped around the house. Whoever was behind the pillar could have escaped through the garden on the side.

  Aisha smacked her head. What am I thinking?

  Aisha walked out of Kriti Villa. There was a spring to her step. Kiara and her relation seemed to be on the mend. Aisha walked down the front steps. Just as the humid wind hit her f
ace and neck so did a realization. Kiara was all grown up.

  And she knows how to research people.

  Aisha’s stomach fell like it had been dropped from a tremendous height.

  #

  A pair of glittering eyes, hiding behind a parked car across the street, watched Aisha steadily as she walked away, totally oblivious to his presence.

  “I see you . . . You are a liar, too.” He whispered and licked his thick dark lips.

  Some spittle landed on the side of his mouth. His voice took on a dream-like quality as he saw himself naked, leaning over Aisha. He shivered with delight imagining how the soft skin of her neck would feel between his hands as he slowly choked the last breath out of her body.

  He felt himself getting painfully hard and resisted the urge to touch himself. Not on the street! He giggled as excitement rose in him.

  He wanted to shout out loud in sheer ecstasy, but he knew better than to attract attention. If she knew about him, she would become careful. Harder to kill! And, he had to kill her every time.

  He saw Aisha get in a cab and drive away. His mouth twisted in genuine pleasure as he quietly sung his favorite childhood rhyme.

  “There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.

  She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do;

  She gave them some broth without any bread;

  Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.”

  Just like Suvabrata had warned her, darkness had found Aisha.

  Chapter 19

  9:45 pm

  Police Quarters, Panaji

  “The CBI officer I’m driving around, Mary, is an idiot.” Jacob said to his third wife. She ignored him like she usually did at this time of the night.

  “Mary, are you listening?”

  A cushion hit him on the face. “Shut up, Jacob! I’m watching TV.”

  Jacob threw the cushion back, but he made sure he threw it at her feet. He was scared of his wife. She was twice his size and perpetually angry. The third marriage also wasn’t working. Compared to Mary, his former two wives seemed like Angels who played harps.

  A sudden knock roused Jacob from his bout of self-pity.

  “Answer the door, Jacob,” Mary ordered.

  “Yes, Mary.” Scratching the side of his neck, Jacob walked to the door. Adjusting his white vest that sat snug over his rotund belly, Jacob opened the door.

  “Hi, Jacob.” Parth waved at him.

  “Sir, you?” Jacob saluted and then became self-conscious for he was more undressed than dressed. He hid behind a panel of the door, shielding his body. “Sir . . . do you need something?”

  “I want to see some famous Panaji nightlife. So, go and change. I’ll wait outside.”

  Jacob just stood there, his mouth open.

  “C’mon, Jacob, you are not getting any younger. Let’s go!”

  “Nice shirt, Sir!” Jacob muttered, staring at the bright yellow and blue shirt Parth wore over a khaki Bermuda. Then he went inside to change.

  Fifteen minutes later, Jacob and Parth headed to a swanky pub on the beach. Traffic was light currently. Local people and tourists were out on foot in significant numbers, enjoying the nightlife. Strains of Goan music peppered the air. The night breeze was refreshing.

  As they stopped at a red light, Parth saw two young women dressed in skimpy clothes walking on the side. They were pretty with lithe sun-touched limbs, loose hair that fluttered in the breeze and smiles that brightened rooms.

  Parth leaned out of the car and called out. “Hola, girls! Can I give you a ride somewhere?” He beat the side of his Gypsy. “Police!”

  The taller girl turned around and smiled. “Hola? You are in the wrong continent dude.” She poked her tongue at him and laughed, not slowing down.

  “Wanna ride?” Parth persisted, leaning out of the window.

  “Buzz off, Amigo.” Still laughing, the tall girl flipped him off. Her friend gestured at her to keep walking.

  “Damn.” Grinning, Parth sat back. He caught Jacob’s disapproving look. “A bachelor can have some fun!”

  Jacob shook his head but went back to focusing on the road. Parth killed time by asking Jacob about his family and his job.

  A few kilometers later, Jacob pulled into a parking lot of a shack-like structure on the beach. The bright flashing green and pink neon sign on the shack read Beber.

  “Beber in Portuguese means drink.” Jacob said, parking the vehicle.

  “Then let’s go and get some Beber.” Parth got out.

  “You want me to come with you, Sir?” Jacob was surprised.

  “Of course, I’m not partying without my wingman.”

  Jacob joined Parth, the former’s dark, swarthy face shining in anticipation.

  The bar was packed with people—a mix of foreigners and Indians. Music was loud and the lights low. Nearly everyone inside was dancing, drinking, or making out. The atmosphere was vibrant and smelled of sweat mixed with perfumes.

  Parth picked up beers for Jacob and himself and then motioned Jacob to the door at the back. Going through it, they ended on a wooden deck on the beach. The ocean was frisky, making big waves.

  Several pubs like Beber stippled the beach on either side. Colorful paper lanterns hanging from poles swung in the breeze. Couples and small groups of people peppered the sand. Some bonfires on the beach added to the vibrant atmosphere.

  Parth pointed at the closest group. “Jacob, I will pay you five hundred rupees if you have that pretty girl in the white dress agree to go on a date with me.”

  “Sir, I don’t do all this!” Jacob hid his face behind the bottle he was sipping from.

  “Okay, then you pay me if I get her to agree to go on a date with me. Deal?” Parth extended his bottle to him.

  Jacob grimaced. Bloody CBI idiot. The things I do for this job. Reluctantly, he walked down the wooden stairs to the girl his boss had pointed out.

  “Oh, tell her I’m a cop. It might impress her.”

  Parth smirked as he saw Jacob bungle around the group. The girl laughed openly at him. She glanced at Parth, slowly lifted her hand, and showed him the middle finger.

  Jacob lumbered back. “Sorry, Sir! I lost five hundred.”

  Parth gave a crack of a laugh. “You give up easy. This place is full of possibilities.” He winked at the driver. “Now I’ll try.”

  So, for the next few hours, Parth chatted with a few women hanging on the beach. He only went for the attractive ones.

  Chapter 20

  Left alone, Jacob propped his elbow, under his head and hummed at the stars. The cell tucked in his shirt pocket rang. He pulled out his cell phone and saw the name of the person calling him. Jacob sat up. “Good night, madam! Sorry, sorry, I meant good—”

  Commissioner Meisha interrupted him. “Did I wake you?”

  “No, no Madam. I’m out with the CBI officer.”

  “He is still with you? At this time? What is he doing?”

  “Umm . . . Madam, we are at Vaingunium beach in the Beber pub.”

  “What are you doing there?”

  “Um . . . eh!” Jacob scratched the side of his head. “Sir is getting company for the night.” He blurted out.

  There was silence for a few seconds then the Commissioner asked. “What did he do all day?”

  “Nothing much, madam. He went to the murder sites, took some selfies. Then I dropped him at the guest house. Sometime back he asked me to show him Goa nightlife.”

  “Keep a close watch on him. I don’t want the CBI outsmarting us. Got it, Jacob?”

  “Yes, Madam,” Jacob nodded vigorously.

  The Commissioner hung up.

  Jacob swiveled his neck, trying to spot the man he was supposed to be watching. He saw Parth at some distance, trying to charm some other woman.

  “Desperate this man is. Idiot!” Jacob slipped the cell back in his pocket and went back to his earlier repose position—elbow under the head.

  Sometime later, a nudge on his foot woke
Jacob. He opened his watery eyes and had trouble focusing on the man looming over him.

  It was Parth.

  “Yes, Sir!” Jacob sat up, rubbing the sleep and drool off his face.

  “Jacob, you go home. I have found some company.”

  The driver got up like a sloth. “Okay, Sir.” He saw the woman in shorts and a tank top standing behind Parth. A line of glowing bracelets covered her left arm from wrist to elbow and a flower headband decorated her head.

  “Sir, can I drop you somewhere?”

  Parth grinned a boyish smile. “Why, so you can tell Commissioner where I went?”

  “No . . . no, Sir!” Jacob stammered.

  “See, you should not have told me earlier that the Commissioner was a distant relative of yours while trying to impress me. And among all the thousand Panaji policemen, I get you to drive me around the town.”

  Jacob stared at Parth. Shock had rendered him quiet.

  Parth tossed a look to the girl waiting for him. “What’s your name, darling?”

  “Sunny . . . Sunny Leone.” The girl giggled.

  “All right then!” Parth put a five hundred rupee note in Jacob’s pocket. “Tell the Commissioner that you left me with Sunny Leone.”

  “Sir! Sir!” Jacob called out as Parth walked off with the girl.

  Parth waved over his shoulder. “Go back to Mary. I will find you when I want to find you. Tomorrow morning or afternoon, Jacob.”

  Chapter 21

  Next day, Aisha alighted from her cab and paid the cab driver a generous tip. She was in a generous mood. She had slept for nearly ten hours, eaten a sumptuous breakfast, submitted herself to a hot stone massage followed by a pedicure.

  On supremely hard, long days, Aisha had reconciled herself with the thought that when Kiara grew up, Aisha would get her life back. But now that Kiara had grown up, all Aisha was left with was a hollow feeling of emptiness.

  Aisha was no procrastinator, so she had jumped right into thinking and planning. And the first thing to do was?

  Take a vacation! And what do you know, I’m already in the right place.

  Aisha had promptly texted her dad, her boss, and Rustom.