Astral Alibi

Manjiri Prabhu

1

A New Neighbour

A full moon pierced the low mist, spreading a silver sheen over the Stellar Investigations Office Building. Nidhi sat on the steps, looking royal in a blue velvet collar, her paws curled, her tail in a straight line behind her, and her whiskers twitching. The cat’s golden fur gleamed in the moonlight. Night crickets droned in the bushes.

Suddenly the droning in the night was punctuated by a rustling. Nidhi raised her head and picked up her ears. Her nose quivered as she sniffed the air. A figure had stolen into the office premises—slipping cautiously towards the wall, clinging to the shadows and slowly and soundlessly making its way to the windows of the office. The bright moonlight and the distilled shadows did little to hide the figure, draped in floating white. The intruder peered through the dark pane, moving agilely from window to window.

Nidhi watched, her eyes round and focused. Her hackles were up and she meowed angrily. The figure halted, its progress diverted by the animal sound. Slowly the intruder turned to face Nidhi, then with purposeful steps approached the cat.

The glow of a fluorescent peach dawn stained the sky. Birds whistled liltingly, as if practicing a variety of melodious notes on a flute. Sparrows danced from the rust tree tops and bulbuls swooped down the Model Colony Lake. The water was a perfect mirror for the pearl-coloured clouds. Breeze whiffed in through the wide-open, blue-and-red-checked-curtained windows of Sonia’s room.

Sonia sat cross-legged on a cream rug on the lawn-green tiled terrace floor, eyes closed, her breathing even. Her arms were stretched out and resting on her knees. She uttered the “Om” slow and long, the vibrations of the word tingling through her whole body. In the hazy light of dawn, she looked like a statue of gold. After several repetitions she stopped and opened her eyes. A smile of satisfaction touched her lips. She felt good! She always began her day with Yoga, a few Surya Namaskars—Sun Salutation, an excellent exercise that paid homage to the sun—and Omkar—the chanting of the sacred word Om—a habit instilled in her by her mother. Followed by Praanaayaam—a rhythmic breathing technique—her morning routine never failed to invigorate her with the spirit of life.

Sonia rose and leaned against the wooden railing of the terrace, glancing down at the lake. The Samarth bungalow—a fancy structure of red brick, stone, and wood—stood back from the almost triangular body of water in the heart of the Shivajinagar area. Sonia loved her house. It afforded a wonderful view of the glistening water. She took another deep breath. It was a beautiful morning and she looked forward to going to her office. It was a brand-new day of hopes!

The January morning was cool and a weak sun glinted on the windowpanes. The brown leaves of the huge Banyan tree on F.C. Road carpeted the garden and the path which led to the steps of the Stellar Investigations Office. Sonia drove her van into the parking lot, threw an appreciative glance at nature’s untidiness, then hastened up the steps.

She paused at the door of the office and a look of pride flashed across her face. The new steel-and-copper nameplate announced Stellar Investigations in flowing writing. She gazed at it critically, gauging the impression it would create on a prospective client. Not bad. The nameplate hinted at an artistic unravelling of issues.

Suppressing a natural urge to flick out her kerchief and rub an invisible spot on the nameplate, she turned to the door opposite her office and hesitated. For the first time in years, the office next door was open and she could hear sounds of activity. Frowning, Sonia swung open the Stellar Investigations’ door and walked into her outer office.

A big polished brass Om, like a shining cheerful face, greeted her from the wall opposite. Sonia particularly liked that effect. A positive, almost spiritual touch. In the right corner, a small Television set—her assistant Jatin’s contribution to the decor—occupied prime position. A small glass enclosure in the left corner of the room held more cushioned chairs than the number of prospective clients. Again, Jatin’s optimism at work. The glass cubicle—or “cabin,” as Jatin preferred to call it—was his domain. He sat working on the computer, playing the role of a perfect detective-cum-assistant.

He glanced up now as Sonia entered.

“Good morning, Boss.” Jatin raised an eyebrow in anticipation. “Well?” he asked.

“The nameplate’s perfect!”

His face glowed with pleasure. Any word of appreciation from his boss made him feel as if he had won another round of chess. He alone knew how difficult Sonia was to please. For the simple reason that he alone fended with her degrees of intelligence, stubbornness, and frequent acts of unreasonability. His boss was, of course, undoubtedly gifted with the art of cracking criminal cases with the ace craft of Astrology, but that didn’t make her any less difficult. In fact, her gift was an added bonus to her already complex character. If it hadn’t been for him—patient, tolerant, sensitive Jatin Singh—detective Sonia Samarth would have found herself alone on the path of justice! Jatin gave himself a mental pat of self-appreciation.

Quite unaware of her assistant’s roaming speculations, Sonia strode into the inner office. A volley of meows welcomed her.

“Hello, Nidhi!” Sonia’s voice dropped to an affectionate murmur as she picked up the golden cat and stroked its silky fur. “Everything all right? Have you looked after the office well?”

“She’s been a little cranky all morning,” Jatin informed, following her in. “I think it’s the office next door. The carpentry sounds of sawing and hammering are disturbing her.”

“Yes, I meant to ask you. What’s happening there?”

“We are going to have neighbours. And you are not going to like it,” he added ominously.

“Why not?” Sonia settled in the seat behind her table and cuddled Nidhi in her lap. Immediately the cat ensconced herself in the crook of Sonia’s elbow, hiding her face in it. Gentle snores instantly emanated from her body!

“A clothes store is opening next door. A boutique next to Stellar Investigations! The thought makes me shudder!”

Sonia laughed. “What’s so awful about that?”

“Imagine the rush and crowds—of females! The chattering and blabbering! All our peace and sanctity will be invaded! Think about our image!”

“Relax. It’s not going to affect our business.” Sonia brushed away his bloated doubts.

Nidhi stirred and meowed again, fixing bright sea-green eyes on her Mistress’s face. “I know, I know,” Sonia laughed. “You need a change of palate! Fish. And you’re going to get it.”

“Fish! But the office will smell! And you don’t expect me to go fetch it, do you?”

The apprehensive glint in Jatin’s eyes made Sonia smile. “I’ve arranged for a vendor to drop by every morning and supply regular quantities offish,” she told him.

“But you are vegetarian!”

“Yes, but Nidhi is not.”

“And I have to feed that fish to her every morning?”

“I’ve also ordered some masks. You don’t have to inhale all that smell.” Sonia smiled sweetly.

Jatin shook his head in frustration. “Why don’t you just order some cat food for her?”

“Perhaps later. This is more convenient.”

“Do we have to go this far for a cat?”

“A cat? She’s not just any cat! She’s Nidhi, my lucky charm. She’s the one who brought us our first case, when we were struggling to find our feet. And the most intriguing fact is that she belongs to a very precious adversary of mine. Don’t forget that I’m supposed to take good care of her!”

“That thief!”

“That very handsome thief, whose huge cheque did not bounce! Besides, weren’t you the one who said he had ‘film-star looks’?”

Jatin looked abashed. “That… That was just spontaneous. Varun Thakur’s still a thief! And he tricked you into finding his diamonds.”

Sonia nodded. The Owl. She recalled how Varun— also allegedly known as the famous international crook “The Owl”—had neatly catered to her ego and eased the location of the diamonds from her. Through his horoscope. She remembered the star combinations of his horoscope and how suspicious she had felt at that time. But that hadn’t stopped her from falling for his charms. She had been a fool and she had amends to make. One day, she would settle the score with Varun. She was just waiting for the right moment.

The doorbell rang. “That must be the delivery man,” Sonia said.

Jatin made a wry face and left the room. Sonia picked up the newspaper and ran her eye over the headlines. With every passing day, the urge to read the daily newspaper was taking a nosedive. Every day the papers told the same story, albeit with different characters and different locations. Violence all over the world. Train and plane wrecks or earthquakes. Riots and murders. Her eye stopped on the details of a bride-burning death. It was horrifying, the number of deaths occurring because of dowry in India. Would greed never leave the hearts of human beings? Would life ever matter? The way things stood, she may as well change her reading habits. Or, better still, quit reading the newspaper altogether.

Jatin popped his head through the door. One hand pinched his nose to avert the smell and the other dangled a plastic bag of fish. Immediately, Nidhi lifted her nose and sniffed the air. Then, with an instinctive meow of recognition, she jumped out of Sonia’s lap and whisked after the grinning Jatin.

Sonia chuckled. “The cat’s following the trail of fish!” She picked up the newspaper again.

Jatin slipped in through the door and stood patiently beside the table. Sonia glanced up in surprise.

“What’s up? It’s not like you to be so quiet.”

“Boss, I’ve been wanting to tell you something…” Jatin began. His tone of abashment surprised Sonia.

“What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense,” she urged, bracing herself to hear the worst. Did Jatin want leave again?

“Well, actually…” He drew out a chair and sat down facing her.

“Yes?”

“I’m getting married!”

“You’re getting married! Well, congratulations. But don’t you think you’re a little too young?”

“I’m twenty-two. And earning,” he pointed out with an almost defiant air. “That makes me eligible— plenty—in my community.”

“So who’s the lucky girl?”

“There’s no girl yet. That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you, Boss. I plan to get married this year and am on the lookout for some good girl.”

“I see. What kind of a girl stands a chance with you?”

“Let me think.” Jatin’s face took on a dreamy look. “Pomegranate-red cheeks, hair the colour of Kokam— Mangosteen—and she should be fair, or cream-complexioned. Skin the colour of a peeled banana.”

Sonia stared at him. “What about her nature? And her brains, like a cauliflower?” she asked, amazed.

“Now you’re making fun of me!” Jatin looked hurt.

“Indeed not, I was simply testing my visual and verbal abilities,” she dismissed defensively. “Anyway, the long and short of it is that you want a beautiful girl.”

“Who can cook well.”

“Oh yes, the divine taste of food on her fingertips,” Sonia smirked.

“And who is good-natured and can adjust with my family.”

“Right. A paragon of good sense, virtue, and maturity.”

“Boss, if there’s one person in the whole world who understands me well, it’s you. That’s why I’m going to choose you…”

Sonia’s heart almost stopped.

“…to find me a perfect wife!” Jatin offered grandly.

“I truly am honoured!” Sonia exclaimed, humour bubbling inside her. “But where do you expect me to find this… perfection of a woman?”

“Oh, I’ll do some basic groundwork. You’ll just have to accompany me on meetings.”

Sonia looked relieved. “Great. I think I can manage that!”

“Oh, that’s not all. You have to look for a prospective wife amongst the clients and check out any good horoscopes and—”

“Okay. I get the picture,” Sonia interrupted. She was beginning to get the distinct feeling that someway along the line, their roles of Boss and Assistant had been drastically reversed. “Now how about getting down to some work?” she asked firmly. “Can you show me the report of our last case?”

“Right.” Jatin was all business instantly. “It’s ready in the computer.”

“What’s ready in the computer?” a familiar voice asked.

“Oh, hello, Mohnish!” Sonia exclaimed. “We didn’t hear you enter.”

“I am known to have the softest footstep in the world of Journalism,” he replied, grinning. “No one hears me enter, no one hears me leave!”

“Of course. I remember how softly you—the great journalist Mohnish Rai—barged into my office the very first time, announcing your intentions to do a feature on us loudly enough to the world!” Sonia retorted. “Come in. We may as well have some chai before we begin work.”

Jatin hastened away to follow instructions.

“That’s a very impressive nameplate outside,” Mohnish remarked.

“Yes, very professional, isn’t it?” she agreed.

Mohnish relaxed in a chair and observed Sonia as she turned her attention to Nidhi, who had finished her meal and was now demanding a cuddle. Thick straight silky hair, in a shoulder-length blunt-cut, swung over an oval cream-complexioned face. Her almond-shaped honey-brown eyes over a neat nose were momentarily concentrated on the cat. She looked as lovely as ever in a comfortable pink cotton Salwar Khameez. She glanced up and he smiled.

“What’s happening next door?” He indicated with his thumb.

“That office finally has been let, after lying vacant for years. It’s going to be a garment store.”

“Interesting.”

“Jatin doesn’t like the idea one bit, and sometimes he’s right,” she acknowledged with a smile. “He’s also a young boy driven with too many opinions.”

“Yes, Grandma,” Mohnish agreed seriously, but the twinkle in his eye made her smile.

“I can’t help it. He’s so patronising that I feel old compared to him.”

“Then why not spend some time with someone who can treat you your age? And in the process have a good time?”

“Oh, that sounds incredible. Who exactly do you mean?” Sonia feigned innocence.

Mohnish bowed his head. “Your very own good friend at your service!”

She laughed. “What a surprise! And what exactly is your definition of a good time?”

“Spending time together, getting to know each other…”

“Hmm… I’ll have to see if I can find some time…”

“Here’s the chai!” Jatin announced, and his timing made them both laugh.

He placed their cups on the table and, whistling, returned to the outer office.

“Seriously, Sonia…” Mohnish began, on a quieter note.

The journalist looked quite handsome, with abundant straight hair swept sideways and a straying flick falling over a high forehead. A firm jawline hinted at a stubborn nature. But a ready smile displayed a neat set of teeth and a very attractive dimple in his right cheek. The smile always reached his deep brown, almost black eyes, which tilted slightly upwards at the corners.

Now as his gaze rested steadily on her face, she found her pulse quickening.

“Sonia, you must surely know by now that I find you very attractive. There’s something about us that connects. That gives me a good feeling. And I want to explore that feeling.”

Sonia nodded, trying to control her erratic heartbeat. She liked Mohnish, a lot. Not only had he been a great help to Stellar Investigations in the past year, but he had also been a marvellous source of enlightenment for the public, making them aware of her technique of solving cases with Astrology. Though she’d never quite spelled it to him, Mohnish had shouldered an equal share of the teething problems of Stellar Investigations. Considering she had taken an instant dislike to him the first time he had stepped into her office, high-handedly demanding an interview, he had turned out to be surprisingly supportive and eventually a good friend. Yes, she most certainly liked Mohnish.

But another pair of blue-green eyes and a drawling voice insinuated itself regularly into her memory. Varun Thakur, or The Owl, as he was known in the police circles. She seethed at the way he had tricked her into finding his diamonds. He was clever, she had to admit, and every bit as intelligent and crooked as his reputation marked him to be. And yet fascinating…

Sonia was too confused to distinguish right from wrong. And Mohnish from Varun…

“Sonia… ?” Mohnish was observing her closely.

“Mohnish, I don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing. I’m simply asking you to spend some time with me. We’ll just enjoy being together and find out where that leads us. Will you do that?”‘

“Okay,” Sonia agreed.

“Good! Now I can enjoy my chai.”

“I’d love a cup, too!” Inspector Divekar, encased in a khaki-coloured uniform, sauntered in, a wide smile on his plumpish face. “It’s cold out there!”

“Good morning, Uncle.” Sonia greeted her Father’s good friend warmly.

“Hello, Sir,” Mohnish added, drawing over a chair.

The Inspector sat down. “I was just passing by and thought that I’d drop in and see how the new year has begun for you.”

“Not too well, Uncle,” Sonia sighed. “Not a single case in hand, but I haven’t given up hope as yet. I’m quite confident that the diary Jatin gave me for Christmas is going to be full of appointments!”

“You’re right, Boss,” Jatin said, entering with a cup of chai for Inspector Divekar. “Just wait and watch.”

“Full faith in her, huh?” Inspector Divekar took a long sip from his cup.

“Of course,” Jatin said. “Besides, Boss gave me a mobile phone for Christmas and I have every intention of putting it to good use, too!”

Sonia laughed. “Anyway, how are things with you, Uncle?”

“Busy, as usual. The Owl’s escape from under our very noses still rankles. Had we been more alert, we could’ve caught him!”

“Provided he is The Owl,” Sonia reminded lightly.

“Of course he’s The Owl!” Mohnish retaliated impatiently.

“Oh yes, the guy who met you was most definitely The Owl,” Inspector Divekar endorsed. “And he now has the Kerkar jewels to add to his grand collection.”

“Don’t remind me.” Sonia sighed again. “The Owl or not, I definitely have a score to settle with that man.”

“Be careful, beti,” Inspector Divekar warned. “You never know with these guys. Don’t go on that outward suave and sober front. They could get dangerous. Best not to provoke such types.”

“Don’t worry, Uncle. Varun Thakur didn’t seem particularly dangerous to me, but I’ll keep that in mind. Not that our roads will cross again. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay right out of my path!”

Mohnish and Inspector Divekar exchanged quick looks.

“Be careful, that’s all,” the Inspector repeated. He gulped down his tea and stood up. “Well, see you later, then. Got to get back to the Police Station. Bye.”

Mohnish studied Sonia in silence. She seemed deep in thought as she fondled Nidhi. And it troubled him. In fact, he felt positively disturbed.

“A rupee for your thoughts, Madam,” he said in a cheerful note.

She glanced up, surprised. “Sorry, I…”

“It’s all right. We’ve known each other for almost a year now, Sonia. I’m beginning to understand you.” A smile plucked at his lips.

Sonia grinned. “Are you?”

“Yes. Varun Thakur has left a trace of incompletion and dissatisfaction in your mind. And even though I’m totally aware of your skills and courage, I wouldn’t hesitate to add my voice of caution to Inspector Divekar’s. Forget him. Forget The Owl.”

Sonia looked into Mohnish’s face and read the concern there. “You really mean that.”

“Yes, I do. I’m worried about you. And I would hate it if you ever got hurt.”

“Thanks, Mohnish. But I’m not going to get hurt and Varun Thakur is no threat to me. Now, let’s drop this subject, okay?”

“If you insist.” Mohnish shrugged. He stood. “I have to leave anyway. I’m going to be out of town for a few days. I’ll see you when I return.” He stared at Sonia for an instant, then left without a backward glance.

Now she’d done it. She’d upset Mohnish. She sighed. This was all Varun Thakur’s fault, she decided grimly. First he insinuated himself into her life with his bouquets from “A Secret Admirer,” then he manipulated her into finding his diamonds. And lastly he had made his preposterous proposal, thus ensuring a permanent place in her thoughts! The man was truly cunning and charming—an extremely deadly combination. And not in the least for the reasons proclaimed by Inspector Divekar and Mohnish. And for all the well-meant advice that was showered on her, Sonia had no intention of giving up on her revenge.

Jatin popped his head into the office. “Boss, you have a guest.”

“A guest?” She noticed that he didn’t say “a client.”

Jatin appeared a little flustered. “Our new neighbour. She says she’d like to meet you.”

“Send her in.”

Sonia rose and placed Nidhi on her colourful cushions, which seemed to be growing in number. The cat curled off to sleep at once.

“Hello!” a husky voice called.

Sonia turned to face a slim woman of medium height, in her thirties. A warm smile lit up her sharp features, which were crowned by a sleek bob. She wore jeans and a red shirt which gave off a faint, pleasant scent.

“Hi!”

“I’m Devika Bhagat. Your new neighbour. I hope I’m not disturbing you?” The woman stepped into the room.

“Oh no, please come in.” Sonia found herself responding spontaneously to the stranger’s friendly smile and voice.

As Devika sat down, she threw a look around the tidy office. “Lovely setup you have here,” she remarked casually.

“Yes,” Sonia agreed, following her gaze across the room. The room was a mix and match of old furniture. A colourful handwoven Panchgani carpet in the middle of the room gave it more the look of a sitting room than an office. “Though, my colleague Jatin insists that it’s all too feminine for him!”

Devika grinned, flashing a set of almost crooked white teeth. Sonia noticed that they gave her face an odd, childlike appeal. “I wouldn’t agree with him. It’s a charming room! Oh, you have a cat!” she exclaimed in surprise.

Sonia laughed. “My best friend, Nidhi. It’s time for her nap.”

Devika looked at Sonia with frank curiosity. “You’re an Investigator, aren’t you? I read the nameplate outside. But I’ve also heard about you. You solve cases with the help of Astrology. How very, very unique.”

Sonia smiled non-committally and changed the subject. “What exactly are you planning to do next door?”

“Oh, it’s going to be a boutique. I’m actually a designer and supply most of my clothes to Mumbai. Got a good market there, rich women willing to experiment and dare. Pune is more conservative in its approach. But I have to cater to all kinds of people. Also, weather-wise I prefer Pune. Couldn’t stand the hot sultry Mumbai climate, it was beginning to affect my health. So I thought it was time for a change of scene.”

“You must be very talented to do so well. Designing is a very challenging line of work.”

“It is, but it’s very upcoming in India. I just smartly cashed in on the changing trends!” Devika chuckled.

“When do you plan to open your boutique?”

“In another month or so. March, latest. But since I was here to oversee matters, I decided that we really had to get to know each other.”

“I’m so glad you did,” Sonia replied with a smile. “Will you have something? Tea? Or Coffee?”

“Oh no, I must run. I’ve got tons to do still! I’ll drop by the next time I’m in town.” Devika rose hastily, glancing at her watch.

They shook hands warmly and then Devika departed. Her perfume lingered pleasantly in the room. Sonia had liked her instantly. It wouldn’t be bad to have an intelligent and friendly neighbour for company.

Jatin strode in and glanced speculatively at his Boss. “Well? What do you think?”

Sonia turned to her table with a shrug. “No fear. I don’t think she’s going to tarnish Stellar Investigations’ image with her boutique. She seems quite sensible.”

“Are you sure? I don’t like the smell of her perfume.” Jatin looked doubtful.

“Jatin! I don’t think we have any more control over who takes up that office than we have over her perfume. Which, by the way, was most acceptable to me!”

He shrugged. “Oh, all right, as long as she doesn’t keep popping into the office like it’s some chitchat joint!”

He stomped moodily away, leaving Sonia perplexed. Really, Jatin was getting more and more moody day by day. Perhaps it was truly time for him to find a nice girl and settle down.

Sonia strode to the outer room and towards the computer. Jatin was fiddling with the Television and she decided to check the mail. Within a minute, she had connected to the Net. Her in-box displayed six emails. Her parents had sent her a reminder of a dinner they had planned. Several friends had sent hellos. And then she opened the last email and froze. The subject line read HELLO FROM THE MOON and the message was brief. “Thinking of me?” Sonia stared at the sender’s name—Varun Thakur. Her heart missed a beat. And then quickly anger surfaced. The Owl had actually sent her an email!

Horoscope of Vidya

II SHREE II

OPEN SECRETS—HOROSCOPE OF VIDYA

Born on 13th October, 7.00 p.m.

Zodiac Sign—Scorpio

Ascendant—Aries

Rahu in Cancer, in the 4th House

Venus in Leo, in the 5th House

Jupiter, Saturn and Sun in Virgo,

in the 6th House

Mercury in Libra, in the 7th House

Harshal, Neptune, Mars and Moon in Scorpio,

in thee 8th House

Ketu in Capricorn, in the 10th House

2

Open Secrets

It was a hot March day and the wind swept dry Banyan leaves along the street.

He leaned against the tree, pretending to read a newspaper, which casually hid his face. Occasionally, he glanced up at the building across the road and especially at the windows of the apartment on the first floor. No sign. He glanced at his watch again. It was three in the afternoon and time for her to descend. At the thought of seeing her, he felt almost breathless. God, he had it bad. Even after such a long time!

Suddenly he straightened and ducked behind his newspaper. She had appeared at the foot of the building. Dressed in a grey, geometrical-patterned sari, she was rooting around in her handbag for something. Why did she dress in such unsuitable colours? he wondered. He remembered her as so different. She had loved warm colours and bright dresses, and despite her small frame had looked great in them. He almost couldn’t recognise her in these drab greys and browns she was sporting nowadays. In fact, he recognised nothing about her anymore.

She hailed an Auto, climbed into it, gave instructions to the Autowala.

He didn’t need to hear where she was going. He already knew. He had been following her for the last month and was aware of all her destinations. It was Saturday. She had to be going to Deccan. Where she would vanish into a white building for a couple of hours. What did she do in there? he asked himself, as he kicked his motorcycle to a start and swung his leg over it. Oh, he would find out one day, when she agreed to meet with him.

“This is about the hundredth time I’m asking you, Sonia! I simply don’t understand your hesitation. But I shall ask one last time.” Mohnish sounded strained. “Will you come for dinner with me, tomorrow night?”

Sonia cradled the receiver in her hand and was glad he couldn’t see the pleased smile which sprang spontaneously to her lips. Not only had he remembered her birthday, the 7th March, but he was also consistently persuading her with an invitation for dinner. She couldn’t help but experience a prickle of pleasurable anticipation. But an arrow of guilt stood on standby. Perhaps it was time to ignore it? Sonia wondered.

“All right,” she conceded, and instantly felt a rush of relief. As if she had just crossed a gaping chasm.

“Great! For a heartbreaking moment I thought you would have the audacity to refuse me again!” Mohnish remarked, his tone betraying his exasperation.

“Perhaps next time?” Sonia countered.

“Don’t you dare!” Mohnish laughed. “See you later, then.”

Sonia was still smiling as she replaced the receiver. She’d been out twice with Mohnish in the past month and each time she had thoroughly enjoyed herself. Mohnish was easy to be with—fun and relaxing. Their talk was always impersonal and she liked it that way. She had no intention of plunging into a relationship she couldn’t handle. But she could do with a friend this birthday and Mohnish perfectly fit the bill.

Pushing back unwanted thoughts, Sonia turned to Nidhi. She fluffed up the soft cushions and the cat immediately rolled to her mistress and held out her paw. Sonia adjusted Nidhi’s blue velvet collar and scratched her behind the ears.

“What next, honey bun?” she murmured, and Nidhi stared at her with curious sea-green eyes, almost as if she understood Sonia’s every word. “It’s two months since I had my last case! And I don’t like it. It’s time to do something about it, right?” Nidhi licked her hand with a rough tongue and Sonia grinned. “I know what you’re saying. Stop worrying—things will happen when they have to, right? I think I’ll take your advice, since there’s not much else I can do at the moment. Perhaps go for a walk? It’s closing time anyway.”

She gave the cat another cuddle, then stepped out into the outer office.

“Jatin, I’m going for a walk. You can leave whenever you want to. I’ll lock up after I return,” she announced.

“Okay, I’ll leave as soon as I’m done with these emails,” Jatin agreed.

The brown Banyan leaves crunched underfoot as Sonia took her habitual stroll in the Agricultural College which was close to her office. The evening sky peeped between the Tamarind, Mango, and Banyan trees, which stood like sentries on either side of the road and clustered overhead to form a tunnel which opened into the big garden lawn and the majestic stone structure of the College. Arches curved along the full length of the ground floor. A huge white dome rose strong and sturdy on top of the College. The sun was sinking behind the hill ranges on the west, as Sonia took a breather on the velvet lawn. A flock of birds swooped in a curve across the dusky sky.

March had arrived with a vengeance, hot and dry, but mercifully the evenings were cool. The walkers, the couples and pensioners lounging on the lawn all appeared relaxed. Sonia wished she felt the same. She felt far from relaxed, feeling restless. The fact that she had no case had begun to worry her. Not that she hadn’t put the intermediate free time to good use. She had read good books, specially on Swami Vivekananda and his intellectual preaching; she had meditated, listened to good music, and even entertained some of her parents’ business friends. The lull in her usually busy schedule had been quite enjoyable. She had even started on a warm footing with Devika, who had inaugurated her boutique by the end of February. The steady stream of buyers created a lively atmosphere in the otherwise dull building. Not that Jatin agreed. His worst fears had been confirmed. He insisted that the boutique, with its clusters of giggling girls and pompous ladies haunting the shop, had robbed the dignity off the Stellar Investigations Office. All were either too young or too old for his bride-hunting project! And hence entirely useless in terms of peace or availability!

Nidhi had done her bit by playing with her mistress and demanding constant attention. But Sonia knew that even Nidhi couldn’t do much about the concern that was beginning to gnaw at her. She sighed, rose, and dusted her jeans. She may as well return to the office, lock up, and go home, she decided. The sun had set, the afterglow a warm memory behind the clouds. She retraced her steps, deep in thought.

F.C. Road was a busy main street, specially in the evenings. The Police Parade Ground set the scene for a number of popular restaurants and cafes. Offices, quaint bookstores, and boutiques flanked either side of the road, which was dominated by the Fergusson College—a more than century-old sprawling icon of education. Stellar Investigations office was opposite Vaishali Restaurant, the favorite joint of students and, in the evenings, families.

As she turned off the main road and into the Stellar Investigations building, she caught sight of Devika talking to another woman on the porch which separated their two offices. Both women were deeply engrossed in a conversation. But Sonia wasn’t looking at them. She was staring in surprise at Nidhi, who was cuddled in Devika’s arms.

A prick of anxiety made her hasten forward.

“Oh, here she is!” Devika greeted warmly.

“What’s up? Has Nidhi been up to something?” Sonia couldn’t keep the apprehension from her voice.

Devika laughed, handing over the furry golden body to Sonia’s outstretched hands.

“Nothing serious actually. But if you count playing with my designer clothes hanging from the closets as naughty, then she has been quite naughty!”

“Oh no!” Sonia exclaimed. “I’m sorry, did she—”

“No, nothing’s spoilt, don’t worry,” Devika interrupted good-naturedly. “Nidhi’s been quite a good cat actually, considering how I’ve disrupted your peace. This is Renuka Gunaji, by the way. Renuka and I were discussing something and Nidhi chose that very moment to introduce herself. She jumped up and sat on Renuka’s lap and refused to leave!”

“Oh goodness,” Sonia said faintly. “I’m really sorry. She never does that to strangers. She’s awfully pampered, actually, but I’ve never seen her sit on somebody’s lap like that.”

“Don’t worry.” Renuka brushed off Sonia’s concern. A tall hefty girl in a blue-and-yellow-striped cotton Salwar Kameez, she seemed to be studying Sonia with a curious glint in her eyes. “I like cats, though she startled me, the way she jumped onto my lap.” A frown creased her forehead. “Actually, I’m quite glad we have met. I was sharing a very serious problem with Devika and we were just discussing whether I should approach you. I was in two minds because, you see, I didn’t know if I had the right to reveal someone else’s problems. But the moment your cat sat on my lap and I stroked her silky fur, my doubt dissolved and my mind was instantly made up.”

Sonia stared at Renuka in surprise, then quickly glanced down at Nidhi. The cat raised her head, blinked innocently, then purred throatily. A feeling of amazement filled Sonia’s heart. Darling Nidhi!

“Can we talk?” Renuka asked.

“Right now?” Sonia hesitated. It was a little late. And she had no idea if Jatin had left. He was always full of criticism for the way she accepted clients without appointments. But on the other hand, she couldn’t afford to turn her back on a much-needed case. Never mind Jatin and his advice about appointments and creating impressions. Even he would agree that getting a case deserved top priority at the moment. And, most important, she couldn’t fail Nidhi, who had worked very hard to tip the scales in her favour!

Sonia said brightly, “Okay, let’s go in and talk.”

“Good. I’ll leave you two and return to my shop. See you later, Sonia,” Devika remarked.

Sonia flashed her a smile and led the other woman into her office. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Renuka pause to read the nameplate and experienced an immense sense of pride. She swung the door open and to her surprise found Jatin still at the computer. He glanced up as they entered and within seconds he had grasped the situation. His eyes gleamed in anticipation.

“Chai, Boss?” he asked hopefully. Chai was their code word for business.

“That will be nice, Jatin, and you can join us, if you are not in a big hurry to leave,” Sonia told him.

“Right, Boss!”

Sonia deposited Nidhi onto her cushioned windowsill and the cat immediately began licking her golden fur. With an unconscious smile, the detective turned to Renuka, gesturing her to sit.

“Yes, should we begin, Miss Gunaji?” she asked politely.

Renuka nodded, then took a deep breath. Jatin entered with a pad and pen and drew a chair next to his Boss.

“You can call me Renuka,” the older woman began. “First of all, let me tell you that I’m not supposed to be here. And I’m not even sure that you can help me. But when I was at Devika’s boutique, I saw your nameplate and I was tempted. Besides, Devika spoke extremely highly of you.”

At this point Sonia couldn’t resist flashing Jatin a look, to gauge his reaction. But her Assistant seemed to have mastered professionalism faster than her. His face was impassive.

“I thought there’s no harm speaking to you because it couldn’t get worse, could it? Already too much harm has been done and I simply didn’t know how to deal with this situation.”

“Renuka, could you please explain what you mean?” Sonia prompted firmly.

“It’s about this very good friend of mine. Her name’s Vidya. A very sweet, soft-spoken, wonderful girl who has never hurt a living soul in her whole life. And that perhaps is the real reason for her misery!”

A mild tap on the door was followed by the chai-wala from the hotel next door. He handed out steaming cups of tea. Renuka accepted hers absently. Sonia took a sip and relaxed against her chair. It was now completely dark outside and the moon was streaming in through the big windows.

“Vidya and I studied together in BM College of Commerce,” Renuka continued. “We both were really keen to do Chartered Accountancy and we even studied together till the intermediate exams. But then quite suddenly, Vidya’s father took ill and he wished to see her married. Vidya comes from a very conservative family and she had already consumed a lot of time on her studies, which according to them was a waste, since she had to ultimately marry and settle down. Vidya had no choice but to give up her CA and marry the boy of her father’s choice. Parmeet Sahay was an Engineer and a good match. Life was smooth for a while, until Parmeet’s parents began making demands on Vidya.”

“Demands?” Sonia frowned.

“Dowry demands. They began with small items like a Tape Recorder, then a TV, and then they asked for a car! A car! Can you believe it? In this age, when demanding or accepting dowry is completely illegal! My blood boils when I think of it!” Renuka exclaimed.

“It’s a crime,” Sonia agreed. “But not an unusual crime. It’s happening in the best of households. What did Vidya do?”

“She hasn’t given in to these unreasonable demands. But that’s where her problems really took firm hold. Her in-laws began harassing her. Screaming and shouting at her for petty mistakes, insulting her in public, calling her names, and threatening to send her back home if she didn’t concede and get them the car they demanded.”

“Goodness!” Sonia couldn’t suppress her rearing anger.

“Vidya confided in me that she was going nuts. I told her she had to talk it out with her husband, but she said that Parmeet was helpless against his domineering parents. I was horrified to hear that. If your husband is not in your corner, marriage becomes bondage. A suffering. And I told her so—I told her to leave Parmeet. What was the point continuing a relationship which was based entirely on mercenary gains? But she refused to listen to me. She believes that marriage is for keeps and that she must endure the harassment for the rest of her life! She really does believe in this age-old Indian thought that a daughter was given away and married into a family for life or death.”

“But that’s absurd!” Sonia exclaimed.

“I know. I was annoyed and impatient with her. I can’t imagine in which age she’s living.”

“Obviously in the same age that most young Indian girls live in—caught in the trappings of tradition and culture, and a transition period fraught with the process of finding their own identity,” Sonia murmured. “Did she speak to her parents about this matter?”

Renuka nodded. “They are at a loss what to do. They’re angry at the pressure on their daughter, but at the same time they don’t wish to do anything to worsen life for Vidya. Not to mention that they, of course, cannot afford a car! And that brings me to the crux of the problem. Two days ago, Vidya had a huge argument with her mother-in-law, Mrs. Sahay. The argument got so heated that Mrs. Sahay pushed Vidya hard against the wall. Vidya hit her head very badly and fainted. The next day she had this great big lump on her head. And that’s when I really began to get worried. Things were beginning to get out of hand. Vidya’s in-laws were now getting desperate and physical. It was only a push, but what would follow next? To put it quite simply, I began worrying for her life. And that’s why I am here. I’m concerned. I have this gut feeling that Vidya could be in danger. After all, bride-burning cases because of unrequited dowry demands are not entirely extinct in our country!”

Renuka stopped to catch her breath. Her face was flushed and her eyes flashed in anger and concern. Sonia could not only sense her fury but could also relate with an indignant resentment of her own.

These things happened in certain parts of India. Dowry deaths reared their ugly head occasionally, like a disease, gripping the society with tentacles which spread deep into the psyche. A young girl getting into an arranged marriage, with absolutely no inkling of the nightmare that was to come. First the claim that there was no harm in the girl’s parents helping their daughter in setting up her own house. Only the “setting up” included not bare necessities but unreasonable demands which ran into hundreds of thousands of rupees, which the majority of the parents couldn’t afford. Greedy in-laws only needed an excuse to fleece their daughters-in-law. But to keep their daughter happy, the bride’s parents senselessly run up heavy debts to meet such demands. Then, when their son is ready for marriage, they look out for a match who will refund all the money they had invested in their daughter’s marriage. It was a vicious cycle which could only be broken by courageous and self-respecting youngsters. Which indeed had been broken in the majority of cases! Unfortunately, Vidya did not seem to fall in that category.

The tragedy of the whole business seemed to be Vidya, with her misplaced sense of loyalty. Sonia experienced a burning need to do something drastic but knew that there was very little in her power.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked. “As far as I can see, this is really a case of harassment. And for the police. Why don’t you ask Vidya to lodge a complaint against her in-laws?”

“And bear further wrath of her in-laws? I’m sure Vidya would rather suffer than drag the family name through the mud,” Renuka stated emphatically.

Sonia shrugged. “I don’t see how I can help.”

Renuka leaned forward eagerly. “Yes, you can. You can talk to her in-laws and Parmeet. You can explain to them how illegal this whole business is!”

“You think they don’t know? You think they are unaware of the consequences? I think not. I think they are a pompous lot, too sure of the power they hold over Vidya. Such people are the worst of the lot. They feel they can get away with anything!”

“Exactly!”

“But we can’t fight Vidya’s fight for her,” Sonia argued. “She has to break through their cockiness, to stand up for her rights and show them her mettle.”

“Which she won’t. And even if she does, she won’t stand a chance if the three of them gang up against her and bundle her into the kitchen or the bathroom and set fire to her! Because that is what could happen!” Renuka looked panicky.

Sonia placed a soothing hand on her arm. “Don’t. Don’t think of the worst. Things may not be as bad as they seem. Besides, if Vidya sensed any danger, she surely wouldn’t continue to live there, would she?”

“No, I guess not. I mean, I hope not,” Renuka replied reluctantly.

There was a little pause, as Sonia’s mind dwelled on what she had just heard.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” she said at length. “I will talk to Vidya’s in-laws and to her husband. But I don’t guarantee any results. If simple talk could change people and their attitudes overnight, this world would be a wonderful place to live in!”

“Oh, thank you! If I didn’t feel so desperate, I wouldn’t be here. You realise that, don’t you?”

Sonia nodded. Renuka’s love for Vidya and her sense of responsibility for her friend was refreshing.

“But first I must talk to Vidya. I must meet with her and unearth what’s really running through her mind,” Sonia insisted.

“All right.” Renuka agreed instantly. “I’m going to Mumbai for some urgent work tomorrow, which is a Sunday, but the day after I’ll talk to Vidya and we’ll set up a time. I’ll call you up first thing on Monday.” She rose and held out her hand. “Thank you, Miss Samarth. Just opening my heart to you has relieved me of a great burden!”

Sonia shook her hand, feeling an odd affinity for this woman who was going out of her way to help a friend. “I’ll wait for your call.”

As Renuka exited, Jatin glanced at his Boss.

“No case?” he queried.

Sonia shook her head. “Thankfully, no! I’d hate to see Vidya or anyone a victim of dowry. This is a social responsibility! Sometimes there are more important things in life than theft and murder!”

“Right, Boss,” Jatin murmured in agreement. “Should we go home?”

The Sunday morning sun bathed the park in gold.

He saw her walk towards him and his heartbeat quickened. What luck that she had actually agreed to see him! Was she at last beginning to see light? But as she approached, the grim expression on her face snubbed all hope. No, this was certainly not a patch-up visit.

He waited till she was close.

She smiled. “Hello!”

“Hi! I’m so glad you came.”

She nodded and they sat down on the park bench. Telltale worry lines were etched deeply on her young face. Dark circles stood out starkly against her pale skin and the look in her eyes made his stomach twist in knots.

“Listen,” he began urgently. “You simply must listen to me. Get out of that place. They don’t care for you, none of them. They will crush the life out of you! Nothing is more important in life than love. And you know that I love you like mad. I’ll keep you happy. I’ll—”

She looked at him and the intense sadness in her eyes silenced him. “It’s too late,” she said. “I’m married. And I shall stay married.”

“But—”

“No, don’t say anything at all. I’m not here to talk about my marriage.”

“Why are you here, then?” he asked bitterly.

She smiled faintly. “I’m here because I’m worried about you. You need to get on with your life. Find a girl, settle down. Do anything, but stay away from me. You have to forget me!”

“I shall never forget you!” he cried harshly. “And you’re a fool to stay on with a husband and a family who are harassing you! It’s not worth it!”

“Don’t worry about me, I can handle them. But I want you to move on. Move on and never turn back, regardless of what happens to me!”

He gazed at her anxiously. “Are you sure that you’re not in any kind of danger?”

She stared back at him. A brooding stare. And for a
moment he feared she wasn’t going to answer him.
Then she said slowly, almost to herself, “There’s more
to life than living___ ”

A chill ran down his spine. She seemed so reconciled to her fate, as if she knew that her in-laws had planned something. “What do… ? Look here—”

Her smile deepened and for a moment she almost looked like her old self. “Relax. I have full control over my life. And if I sensed any danger at all, do you think I would hang on there?”

She opened her handbag, withdrew a small photo frame, and handed it to him.

“This is my last memory of you and I am returning it to you.”

He glanced down at the youthful, carefree, smiling faces of the two of them. Arms around each other’s shoulders, they were both laughing, without the slightest concern about the future.

She rose abruptly. “And stop following me around. It’s no use. I shall never see you again. Goodbye.”

He stared helplessly after her, his heart feeling as if it were being ripped out of his body. He couldn’t just let her walk away and out of his life forever. She loved him and she belonged to him. And that truth was engraved like a tattoo on his heart.

“Wow! You look great! Stand up, will you, let me take a good look at your dress!”

Sonia blushed. “It’s no big deal!” But she rose and turned around so that Devika could admire the simply cut, red silk Salwar Kameez with its delicate gold lining around the boatneck and the cap sleeves. “Satisfied?”

“It’s lovely! And you look beautiful today,” Devika gushed.

“She ought to, it’s her birthday!” Jatin contributed.

“Really! Happy Birthday!” Devika gave Sonia a warm hug. Then her eyes settled with a look of admiration on the detective’s wrist. “And that’s a lovely bracelet.” She touched the stones with her fingertip.

“Given to her by Mohnish as a Christmas present,” Jatin supplied.

Devika raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. But what are you doing sitting in the office today, on a Sunday, with boring tax accounts work? It’s your birthday! Go out, have fun!”

“Later this evening. She’s going out with Mohnish,” Jatin offered again.

“Jatin!” Sonia exclaimed. “I didn’t appoint you to speak on my behalf.”

“Sorry, Boss. I just thought that since you go out on dates so rarely, I’d spare you the embarrassment of admitting—” Jatin broke off as he saw the expression on his Boss’s face. Within seconds, he had vanished from the room.

“Is he always this naive and outspoken?” Devika asked, amused.

Sonia grinned ruefully. “I’m afraid he is!”

“Well, good luck to you, then! And have a great day, and a super evening with Mohnish!” Devika winked.

“Hey, it’s not what you think!”

“And what do I think?” Devika countered, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She was casually dressed in jeans and a pink, sleeveless top, perfect for the hot summer. Her bob was as sleek and shiny as ever, totally incongruous with her overlapping set of teeth.

“You know… Mohnish and I are good friends, that’s all.” Sonia shrugged.

“I’ve heard that line a zillion times before. Can’t you be more creative?” Devika teased.

“You’ve got to believe me!” Sonia insisted.

“Okay, I believe you. But I hope that doesn’t stop you from having some real fun,” Devika remarked. Her expression was almost matronly.

Sometimes she surprised Sonia with her maturity. Sonia grinned. “No, it won’t, though I still don’t like your insinuations.”

“Good, so you know exactly what I mean!” Devika called out over her shoulder as she walked out of the office.

Sonia sighed. She glanced down at the stone bracelet which rested delicately on her wrist. It sparkled as she played with it. The day had begun well, with her parents wishing her a great birthday with an exceptional gift—single diamond ear tops, which matched the bracelet well. Then Jatin had presented a lovely bouquet of pink roses and Nidhi had brought her a mouse! She felt very special and loved. And less guilty, somehow. For years, celebrating her birthday had been an ordeal, always accompanied by a searing guilt. She knew it wasn’t her fault. What had happened long ago.

But she couldn’t help it___

She thought of the evening ahead with Mohnish and her heart raced just slightly. She had to admit it, she was really looking forward to it. Suddenly the accounts papers on her table felt like an encumbrance and she thrust them away, rather uncharacteristically. A restless energy seemed to have unleashed inside her. She would simply check her email and leave.

Several birthday greetings from her friends popped in at the in-box. Sonia was surprised at the way people remembered birthdays. She hadn’t seen some of these friends in years but they always remembered each other’s birthdays. She clicked on the last card absently, then froze. The animated e-card opened with a sunrise, then turned into a heart. On the musical notes of the birthday song, a message appeared on the screen:

Happy Birthday, Dearest Sonia,

My Glowworm…

The sun will shine…

And you will be mine

You look gorgeous in your red dress!

Thinking of you,

Varun

Sonia stared at the words on the screen, her heart thudding painfully. Like a wave, Varun’s presence seemed to fill the room, and for a moment she panicked. She whipped around. But there was only Jatin, fiddling with his tiny TV set, switching channels. Turning back to the computer, she replayed the e-card, and despite herself a surge of pleasure replaced the panic. His glowworm… Only Varun called her that… And his favourite poem… How in heavens had he known her birthday? And how did he know what she was wearing? Could he be keeping an eye on her? Following her? She had absolutely no hint of where he was and what he was playing at. Shaking her head in frustration, she shut down the computer. Varun would drive her crazy one day!

The ambience of Mula Retreat, the restaurant by the river, never failed to please Sonia. The rustic atmosphere, the waiters in traditional uniform, gave the hotel a kind of snug and welcoming warmth. Mohnish sat across the polished wooden table, relaxed and cool in a white T-shirt and beige trousers. The glint of appreciation, as his eyes had moved from Sonia’s red outfit to the glossy swing of her shoulder-length hair, had satisfied her that she appeared fine.

“Happy Birthday, Sonia,” he said softly. “You look lovely!”

“Thank you,” she replied with a pleased smile.

“Should we order?”

After the waiter had taken their order, Mohnish unwound his long form from his cane chair and regarded Sonia with a keen look.

“Has something happened? You seem sort of flushed and excited,” he observed.

His perceptiveness surprised her. She had absolutely no intention of filling him in about Varun’s emails. Both he and Inspector Divekar would pounce at any hint or information, however remote, which might help them catch the international crook. Yet Sonia had no clue what it was that was keeping her silent. All she knew was that she was reluctant to volunteer any information on The Owl or to give up on Varun Thakur. Perhaps because of her very own personal agenda?

“It’s just the knowledge, I guess, that I am older and—I hope—wiser by a year,” she answered.

“I don’t know about wiser, but you’re certainly prettier!”

Sonia blushed. “Is that my present for the evening? Compliments for my birthday?”

“Yes…along with this…” Mohnish placed a wrapped square packet on the table. “Open it.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to… I mean, I was just
joking___ ”

“Open it,” he commanded gently.

Sonia removed the loosely wrapped paper and uncovered a white cardboard box. She lifted the cover and stared in surprise at the photo frame inside. The photo was a close-up of herself, deep in thought. The glow of sunlight illuminated her face. But the rest of the photo had multiple images of her trailing into a horizon. It was a classic example of what electronic imaging could do to a simple photo. She had never looked more glamorous nor more mysterious.

Horoscope of Parmeet

II SHREE II

OPEN SECRETS—HOROSCOPE OF PARMEET

Born on 21st October, 10.00 a.m.

Zodiac Sign—Libra

Ascendant—Scorpio

Neptune in Scorpio, in the 1st House

Ketu in Aquarius, in the 4th House

Mars in Cancer, in the 9th House

Saturn, Jupiter and Rahu in Leo,

in the 10th House

Sun, Moon, Harshal, Mercury and Venus

in Libra, in the 12th House

“It’s wonderful! That is me, isn’t it?” Sonia teased.

“Of course it’s you!” Mohnish laughed. “Dreamy and caught unawares. And the rest of the effect was done by a professional in Mumbai. A friend of a friend of mine. Lokesh’s really skilled in photography—he experiments without distorting the looks or the mood.”

“It’s perfect,” Sonia acknowledged warmly. “Thank you so much. But where did you get hold of this photo of me?”

Mohnish grinned. “Some secrets have to be kept from smart investigators,” he replied. The waiter arrived with the food and as they tucked into bhakri and spicy bharli vangi—stuffed brinjal—Sonia glanced around at the other diners. A group of friends at a corner table was particularly rowdy. One of the boys, dressed in a khadi kurta and jeans, rose and recited poetry in Urdu, stroking his beard as he did so. There was an appreciative applause from his companions as he took his seat again.

“Sonia, I’m glad I could finally persuade you to join me for dinner this evening,” Mohnish broke into her observations. “Though I admit I had to slog real hard to get you here!”

This time, Sonia did not return his infectious grin. Instead she said, carefully, “There’s a reason why I did not wish to go out, Mohnish. It’s because I don’t normally treat this as a special day. As a child, my parents pampered me, insisting on throwing kid parties, but ever since I grew up and had some say in the matter, I’ve stopped celebrating my birthday.”

“But why?”

Sonia took a deep breath. She didn’t know why she was revealing her lifelong secret to him. A secret which had been embedded into her soul with inerasable ink.

Which scorched her mind every time she thought of it. She had never mentioned it to a soul. Except her parents, of course. But today some force seemed to be propelling her to communicate and divulge her innermost feelings to him.

“I had a younger brother,” she began uncertainly. “Sarang was two years younger than me. When I was six years old my Mother took us to the circus. I remember how excited I was because I loved animals. Halfway through the show, one of the clowns invited some children in the ring. I was very shy but Sarang was an attention-seeker. He loved to be the centre of attention and Mother encouraged him to join the clown. There were four kids in the ring with the clown, when the tent caught fire and within minutes there was chaos. It was horrible. I can still feel the hot flames licking my body and the smell of burning in my nose! Mother and I searched frantically for Sarang, screaming out his name over the din. But it was useless. Sarang was lost to us. Forever. We never found him. Somehow Mother managed to save me in the stampede, but many lives were lost. Later we found…” Her voice choked and she stopped abruptly.

Mohnish placed a hand over hers and squeezed it. “Don’t. Don’t rake up the old pain. You don’t have to say any more. I can imagine what a horrifying experience it must’ve been for you and your family.”

Tears coursed down Sonia’s cheeks. After a moment, she composed herself and wiped her face with a kerchief, embarrassed. “That’s why I have never wanted to celebrate my birthday. Though my parents loved me and went out of their way to make me feel special, a birthday meant that I was alive and he was gone! With each birthday, I can’t help but think of Sarang, even after all these years. If only he were alive…”

“His loss is incalculable, I know. But it is actually just a lack of his physical presence on earth, don’t you think? Because he lives on in your mind. He’s kind of immortal. Why can’t you try to learn to surrender, to let go and live without that physical body? Accept that and Sarang’s memory will be a source of pleasure for you, not pain. It’s the only way to live, Sonia. Transposing bitter experiences into happy memories.” Mohnish spoke in a soft voice.

“You’re right. And I’ll try. It’s just that I wanted you to know and understand…”

He nodded. “I understand. End of episode. Let’s enjoy our meal,” he said firmly, and she flashed him a wan, watery smile. She felt loads better.

Changing the subject, he asked casually, “Working on anything at the moment?”

“Not really,” Sonia replied, then told him of Vidya and her problems. “I hope to meet with her tomorrow. And perhaps her in-laws, too, not that it would help much.”

“Oh, you never know. Something good may just come out of it.”

“I truly hope so.” She paused, then added, “Mohnish—thank you.” The guileless, honest smile she gave him flooded him with a wave of yearning.

He trained the binoculars on the illuminated window of the room across the street. He had a view of a table with the table lamp on and a portion of the bed. Figures flitted in and out of his line of vision. But it was enough for him to gauge what was happening. They were arguing. He had never seen her so angry. Her mother-in-law was pacing restlessly, gesturing animatedly, and showing her a soiled sari. She listened with folded arms but with an expression of mutiny on her face, and when she responded, it was with contempt written in her expression. This was like watching a film with no sound track at all. A silent film. Only, the two artists, in focus through the binoculars, wore genuinely angry expressions.

The argument seemed to go on for a while and then, suddenly, it was over. The two of them vanished from the scene. He moved his binoculars around, trying to locate the two figures. Then, a couple of minutes later a pair of hands appeared, from the right side of the binoculars, carrying a glass of milk. The glass was placed on the table. Then the hands departed. Minutes passed. No sign of life. Then the hands reappeared and something was dropped into the milk. The hands vanished and for a while there was no more activity. He waited patiently, curbing a sense of disbelief. What exactly was happening in her room?

Then suddenly she came into sight again, drew a chair, and settled down at the table. She moved the glass of milk to her right and began writing. He tried his best to catch her expressions, but her back was turned to him. It was obvious that she was crying. He could guess that much, from the manner in which she brushed her eyes repeatedly and the way her shoulders shook. Occasionally she turned around, and threw furtive looks, almost directly towards him. He shrank back instantly. Then shook his head. There was no way she could spot him, of course.

Half an hour later, she stood up, drank the milk, and turned off the light. He could see no more.

* * *

“Boss, call for you. I think it’s Renuka Gunaji,” Jatin informed.

It was eleven-thirty in the morning and Sonia had been awaiting her call. Renuka had promised her that she would phone, first thing Monday morning.

“I’ll take it,” she replied, placing Nidhi on the pillow. She lifted the receiver. “Hello?”

“Miss Samarth! Something really terrible has happened!” Renuka’s breathless gasp instantly caught Sonia’s attention.

“What’s happened?” she asked.

“It’s Vidya… she’s dead!”

“What!”

“Last night… and the police suspect murder!” the tearful voice explained.

An icy chill ran down Sonia’s spine. “Are you sure?”

“Oh yes… Can you… can you come down here? I am at Vidya’s house. It’s terrible…” Renuka broke off into a sob.

“I’ll be there right away,” Sonia assured her. “Just give me the address.”

Jatin was standing at the door, a concerned expression on his face. “Anything wrong, Boss?”

“Everything’s wrong! Let’s go!”

Sonia drove as fast as she dared, manoeuvring the traffic on University Road, towards Parihar Chauk. Fifteen minutes later, she was at Vidya’s house. A police car crossed them as she and Jatin drove into the parking of the building. Renuka was sitting on a bench in the parking but she rose hastily the moment she caught sight of the van.

“I’m so glad you could make it. I just had to talk to someone!” Renuka clasped Sonia’s hand. Her face was blotched with tearstains.

“Tell me everything. Where is Vidya now?”

“The police took her body away. Her husband was working a night shift and returned around six. Vidya usually woke up around five, before the whole family rose. This morning when she did not rise, Parmeet was puzzled and shook her. That’s when he found her cold in bed. It was only when I telephoned this morning that Parmeet told me the bad news. I rushed here. I didn’t even get a last glimpse of my friend. My poor Vidya! I was afraid this would happen! Why didn’t she leave these people and go home? I knew she was in danger!” Renuka wailed.

“Shh… Renuka, you must calm down. This is not the place to raise doubts and suspicions,” Sonia admonished. “Can we go into the house? I’d like to see where it all happened.”

“I think we can. I’ve already told Inspector Shinde that you’re coming. Vidya lives on the first floor. He is talking to the Sahays right now.

She led the way up the stairs and to an apartment on the left. Two constables were standing outside the door, but Renuka walked past them and into the hall. On the sofa, a middle-aged couple sat together. Mr. Sahay, a tall thin man with a balding head, wore a crumpled white kurta pyjama. His wife, wrapped in a printed white cotton sari, sat beside him, her pony-tailed, oiled head bent, intent on what he was saying. Both wore impatient, irritated expressions. Instantly any vestige of sympathy that Sonia would have felt for these people vanished. Beside them, a young man slumped, his head in his hands. Medium-heighted and dusky, Parmeet Sahay was the spitting image of his father. Sonia’s eyes rested on him with candid interest.

An Inspector in uniform stood by the grilled window, which displayed a queue of potted indoor plants. Silence seemed to fill the house. As if the policeman had just asked a question that these three couldn’t answer. He glanced up as Renuka and Sonia entered the room.

“Inspector Shinde, can I speak to you for a moment?” Renuka asked. “This is Sonia Samarth. She is the detective I told you about.”

“Sonia Samarth… The name sounds familiar.” The policeman frowned.

“I run a detective agency called Stellar Investigations,” Sonia told him.

“Of course! I remember now… astrology and crime, I read about you in the papers. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Vidya was my best friend and I want Sonia to look into the matter,” Renuka explained.

The Inspector smiled. “We’ve finished with the place actually—the body has been taken away and the fingerprint experts have already left. I don’t mind if you take a look around. Anything more you discover will only help us in our case.”

“Certainly. And I assure you I won’t meddle with the working of the police,” Sonia added.

“But we don’t want any outside meddling!” Mr. Sahay spoke up harshly. “Our daughter-in-law is dead! It’s bad enough that police have entered this house. Now a private detective—!”

“Babuji, take it easy. Let them do their job!” Parmeet spoke up wearily.

“Do their job by asking us stupid questions? As if we killed our own daughter-in-law, when it’s obvious that she committed suicide?” Mrs. Sahay demanded harshly.

“If it’s a suicide, then where’s the suicide note?” Inspector Shinde turned to the couple. “Look here, Mrs. Sahay. No one’s flinging any accusations yet. But that doesn’t mean we’re not going to follow the evidence. We found a bottle of sleeping pills in your cupboard. If your daughter-in-law committed suicide, what was an empty bottle of sleeping pills doing in your cupboard?”

“We told you before, my mother takes sleeping pills occasionally! Many times Vidya herself has given those pills to her. As a matter of fact, so have I!” the dead woman’s husband answered.

“But it was full the last time I saw that bottle!” Mrs. Sahay declared.

“And it is empty now. And found in your cupboard. Vidya drank a glass of milk before sleeping and she was dead by morning. There is every chance that that glass of milk contained the same pills which belonged to the bottle in the cupboard. And if that happens, you can forget all notions of suicide,” the Inspector remarked grimly.

“That woman was trouble when she was alive and she’s still trouble now that she’s dead!” Parmeet’s mother grumbled nastily.

“Maa!” Parmeet uttered in a frustrated tone.

Renuka turned a furious face on the older woman. “Vidya gave every ounce of her energy, time, and love for this family, and this is all you can say for her? That she was trouble? The fact was that, despite you making life miserable for her, she stuck by your side, refusing to leave her home and a husband who didn’t deserve her! And now she’s gone! So now you can be happy!”

“Renuka, stop it!” Sonia put a firm hand on the agitated girl’s arm. “Let the police deal with this. Show me Vidya’s room, will you? Inspector, do you mind?”

The Inspector gave her a go-ahead signal while Renuka looked daggers at the in-laws. Both glowered back at her. Sonia prodded the girl and she moved reluctantly. Jatin followed.

“It’s a three-bedroom apartment. And this is Vidya’s room,” Renuka stepped through the doorway of the scene where her friend had breathed her last.

A double bed took up most of the space. A table and chair and two steel cupboards stood against the wall. A window with a sliding pane overlooked the courtyard and the street. Sonia stood in the centre of the room and tried to imagine what had transpired. Vidya had been administered a dose of sleeping pills. She had drunk a glass of milk before going to bed and had been found dead at dawn. Had the pills been in the milk? And who had put them in there? The obvious suspect was, of course, Mrs. Sahay. After all, according to the Inspector, the bottle was found in her cupboard. Had Mrs. Sahay got rid of Vidya, because the poor girl couldn’t supply her avaricious demands? If that was the case, the woman deserved the worst punishment possible!

Sonia strode to a cupboard and turned the handle. It was locked.

“That is Parmeet’s cupboard and the other one is Vidya’s,” Renuka explained.

The second cupboard opened easily. Sonia looked through the contents. Ironed saris, with matching blouses and petticoats and a couple of Salwar Kameez, all hung neatly on hangers. Every article had a place and was neatly folded. Even her handkerchiefs. Vidya had been a disciplined and tidy person. The drawer contained some receipts, papers, and a money purse. Sonia casually riffled through the papers and to her great surprise found a booklet. Vidya’s horoscope! What luck! Sonia’s immediate impulse was to open the horoscope and begin reading it. But she curbed the desire. She had to go about this case logically and patiently.

“You know, I just thought of something,” Renuka said eagerly.

Closing the cupboard, Sonia quickly turned around at the tone in her voice.

“Vidya was in the habit of writing her diary regularly,” Renuka continued. “She wrote everything in it!”

“The police must’ve surely found it,” Sonia remarked.

Renuka shook her head. “I doubt it.” Her eyes gleamed. “Vidya hid her diary really well, because she never wanted her in-laws to get their hands on it. She told me once that her mother-in-law secretly went through her cupboard and her mail, so she kept her diary in a place Mrs. Sahay wouldn’t ever think of looking.”

“But then it could be just about anywhere in this house.”

“Luckily for us, I know exactly where it is!” Renuka declared grandly.

Much to the surprise of the detective, she walked towards a pile of clothes wrapped in a bedsheet and placed on a stool near the cupboard.

Renuka untied the clumsy knot, which revealed an untidy stack of old clothes. She plunged her hand into the pile and then, with a triumphant smile, she withdrew a cheap, red plastic-covered diary.

“I knew it would be here. Vidya once showed me the hiding place. She said that her mother-in-law would never touch her old clothes!”

She handed the diary to Sonia, who took it with spiralling anticipation. Her pulse quickened as she flicked through the pages filled with a childish scrawl. It suddenly and forcefully reminded her of how young Vidya had been. What a waste of a good life.

“The police would love to have this diary, but I’m going to get it photo-copied before handing it to them. I’m sure the Inspector will understand.” Sonia passed the diary to Jatin, who nodded and slipped out of the room.

“This diary will definitely prove that Vidya’s in-laws killed her…” Renuka began happily.

“Wait a minute, Renuka!” Sonia cut in. “We don’t really know what happened here. At the moment the evidence is definitely pointing towards Mrs. Sahay, but we still have to get all the details. So I’d advise you to be careful with what you say. I know that you’re convinced this is an open-and-shut case. But until that is proved, you cannot raise your hopes and you cannot denounce anybody!”

“Okay, though I know in my heart that Vidya died because of these monsters.”

Sonia and Renuka returned to the hall to find Inspector Shinde speaking on the phone and the three Sahays whispering in hushed tones.

“Excuse me,” Sonia said. “I know you feel that I am intruding, but believe me, I can be of help. If you could tell me exactly what happened last night…”

“Nothing happened!” Parmeet exclaimed. “I had a night shift and returned early morning to find Vidya still sleeping. Which was really unusual. I shook her and was startled to find her body hard and… and… blue. I immediately called my parents and the doctor. The police arrived soon enough. Believe me when I say that this is a nightmare. Did my wife really die of an overdose of pills? And who could’ve done such a thing? I can’t believe this is happening to us!”

Parmeet fell silent as he struggled to control his confused feelings. Sonia observed him reflectively.

“What about the milk?” she asked. “Did anybody see her drink it?”

Parmeet shrugged. “I don’t know.” -

“Where exactly do you work, Parmeet?”

“I’m a Supervising Engineer at Chetan works. And I often have night duty from nine onwards.”

Sonia nodded. She drew a stool and sat down beside the stunned husband. “Parmeet, tell me very honestly: Did you love your wife?”

All eyes were trained on the widowed man. Renuka—hostile; his parents—anxious. Even Inspector Shinde, who had finished his conversation on the phone and was heading out of the room to talk to his constables, paused.

“Yes.” The single word slipped out in a whisper. “Yes, I loved her a lot!”

“Liar!” sneered Renuka.

“She was a warm and a wonderful person,” Parmeet continued in a broken voice. “And I never realised it until now!” Suddenly, he broke into sobs.

Renuka glanced at the young widower scornfully, as his parents huddled around him to comfort him. Sonia watched them all thoughtfully. Inspector Shinde signalled to Sonia and she rose. For a moment she stood undecided, then she followed him down the stairs and into the open air.

“Miss Samarth, I just spoke to Inspector Divekar and he said you’re unique!” Shinde smiled politely.

“The Inspector is very kind,” Sonia replied. Jatin briskly walked towards her and handed her the diary.

“He said you would be an asset to this case.” Shinde added.

“Thank you. We found Vidya’s diary in her room. I’m sure you’ll find it useful.” Sonia handed the Inspector the red book, which he accepted with a look of surprise. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve photocopied a few pages…”

The Inspector nodded. “All for the ultimate justice… which should be very near.”

“What do you mean?” Sonia asked.

“Look at the evidence. Vidya died of an overdose of sleeping pills. There can be no doubt of it. I spoke to the neighbours and to Renuka, her close friend. They all voiced the same motive. That the dead woman’s in-laws had been harassing her for dowry. It’s obvious, isn’t it? Vidya couldn’t fulfill their latest demand of a car, so her mother-in-law emptied the bottle of sleeping pills into her milk and got rid of her!”

“You could be right, of course,” Sonia replied thoughtfully. “The motive does seem quite obvious. Have you spoken to Vidya’s parents? What was their reaction?”

“They are devastated. They had the same story to tell. Their daughter was harassed and they were convinced that the in-laws had something to do with this tragedy!”

“Where are they now?”

“Her parents? I asked them to go home. No point waiting here, flinging accusations at the Sahays, in their grief. Besides it’s only a matter of a couple of hours. If the contents in the milk and the contents of the bottle match, I shall have an arrest warrant for Mrs. Sahay!” The Inspector spoke grimly.

Sonia nodded. “Yes, it does seem pretty simple, doesn’t it? Inspector Shinde, do you think you could get me the horoscopes of Mr. and Mrs. Sahay and Parmeet? Just to pursue a hunch? I’m not sure they would appreciate it if I asked for them.”

Shinde shrugged. “No problem.”

Sonia and Jatin returned to the Sahay apartment. There, a gloomy silence reigned. Renuka sat staring stonily at the three Sahays. The moment Sonia entered, Mrs. Sahay flung back her unruly grey hair and demanded shrilly, “What’s happening? Why won’t someone tell us?”

“I think you’d better ask the police,” Sonia replied evenly.

“The police? Are they going to arrest me? Or one of us?” Mrs. Sahay glanced wildly around. “I won’t allow that! We’ve done nothing wrong! Instead of harassing us, why don’t the police try looking for that guy who kept calling up Vidya? The one she went off to meet with for hours!”

“Maa!” Parmeet exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the clandestine affair she was having with that guy!”

“Which guy? What’s his name?” Renuka demanded sharply. “She’s lying! Vidya was very devoted to her husband!”

“Can you give us more details about this stranger?” Sonia asked.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Vidya’s mother-in-law scoffed. “Only I know about this guy and that Vidya used to slip away to meet with him.”

“But why haven’t you revealed this information to us earlier?” Inspector Shinde asked.

The middle-aged woman looked a little abashed. “I… I didn’t want to disgrace the family further by revealing that our bahu was having an affair!” she replied defiantly.

“Well, if such a man does exist, we shall locate him in no time,” the Policeman assured. “In the meantime, I don’t want any one of you to leave this town, do you understand?”

Sonia sipped the chai gratefully. This whole affair had left a very nasty and bitter taste in her mouth. The accusations, the frustrations, the angry exchanges—it was a mess of a marriage which was supposed to have been the most beautiful experience of a girl’s life. Poor Vidya—a victim of dowry? Had there really been another person on the scene? Was the mother-in-law lying in an attempt to save herself?

“What do you think, Boss?” Jatin broke into her thoughts. “Do you also think the ma-in-law did Vidya in?”

“It would be such an easy solution, wouldn’t it? And such a relief to find a scapegoat. God knows, she deserves punishment for putting Vidya through hell. But unfortunately, much as I would like to believe that the in-laws have a hand in this whole tragic affair, there’s something that’s worrying me. The three M’s of investigations—Motive, Modus Operandi, and Material Used. The Motive is clear enough, but why this Modus Operandi and Material? Why find a way to get rid of the poor girl in a manner which would obviously scream ‘murder’? And why would someone leave the evidence around to be found?” Sonia shook her head, baffled.

“Perhaps Mrs. Sahay did plan to get rid of the bottle, but didn’t have time. Or she had asked someone else to do it, but he or she forgot?” Jatin suggested. “Her husband, for example, or even Parmeet?”

“Unlikely. This is murder, not a game. Besides, I’m not sure Parmeet wanted blood on his hands. Perhaps he really did love Vidya.”

“Aw, come on, Boss, that was obviously an act. You didn’t really believe him, did you?”

Sonia was silent, sipping her chai. Jatin was amazed at his Boss’s naivete. Even a fool could’ve seen that Parmeet was putting on a great show of love and devotion for his dead wife!

Sonia finished her chai and took up the photocopied diary.

“I’m going to go through this diary and then Vidya’s horoscope. Please see that I’m not disturbed for a while, okay?”

“Right, Boss. I’m in the outer office completing the tax documents, if you need me. And I’ll order lunch for us.” Jatin rose promptly, collected the chai cups, and exited.

Sonia settled in her chair and opened the pages of the murdered girl’s diary. The entries began about a year and a half ago, and as Sonia began to scan them, the blurry image of Vidya in her mind took solid shape. The hopes and happiness of a newly married girl, stepping into the dream world of love and companionship. And then the pinching reality of the adjustments demanded in an arranged marriage and the stress of dealing with a new name, a new identity, and strangers for a family. Then the mood of the writing changed. The happy girl turned into a frustrated woman, trying to please her in-laws, but in vain. The dowry demands were mentioned frequently in the diary, as Vidya explained how mercenary her new family was. A particular entry caught Sonia’s eye.

Marriage is so different from what I imagined. Is it always like this for everyone? Of course not. I’m sure this is just a passing phase. Ma-in-law and Pa-in-law just need to get used to me. It must be difficult to have a new person in the house and suddenly accept her as a part of the family. But it’s difficult for me, too. We need to help one another. But at the moment, I can only see resentment, like I’m taking up unnecessary space in their house. I feel like a piece of furniture which needs to be moved from wall to wall to accommodate other articles. Parmeet tried to help at first, but Ma-in-law is so strong. She simply shuts him up and then he just walks out of the house on his favourite bird-watching hobby. He avoids controversy and leaves me alone to face the brunt of the anger. He says bird-watching gives him peace of mind. And what about my peace of mind? But things will change. I’m sure of it.

Sonia turned to another entry.

A TV set! How can they? I had told them at the time of the marriage that I was dead against dowry and that they would have to accept me as I am! And I remember what Parmeet had said to me then. That he hated the word dowry.“ So then, what is this? Surely Ma-in-law does not expect me to ask Papa to buy a TV set for Parmeet? I’m not going to do that! They’ll soon see that it’s useless making such demands on me

Parmeet discovered the photo. It was a little awkward explaining it to him, but I think he understood that I had kept it for old times’ sake. For the sake of friendship. But now that I think of it, because of the atmosphere here, it would be wise to get rid of it. Because Parmeet may understand, but I’m positive his parents won’t! It will only be added ammunition for them against me.

I have such a strange feeling. As if someone is following me around constantly. Is it only a figment of my imagination or am I really being followed?

Sonia turned to the final entry in the diary. It was dated the day of Vidya’s death.

The feeling of being constantly watched is so strong… I’m convinced now that I’m not imagining it. On the streets and even through my bedroom window. A couple of days ago, while I was arranging my cupboard in the afternoon, I even caught a glint of glass from across the street. Strange… Even as I write this, I feel as if I’m being watched. No, I’m sure that I’m being watched. As soon as I finish writing, I’m going to turn off the light.

I had a fight with Ma-in-law again, a moment ago. It’s a car now, and that’s the last straw! I could have borne it. The humiliation of being treated like a source of income. The insults and bad words. Everything—if only Parmeet was not a part of it all. He doesn’t cross his parents or argue with them, and he doesn’t side with me, either. He’s weak and he escapes into his bird-watching and he makes me feel like an outsider. Why, why can’t he see how much I love him? Why can’t he love me back instead of giving in to the pressures of his family? I feel so tired. What with this constant harassing and the medicine, I feel as if I’ll never get through this! It’s all my fault, Renuka would say. For not standing for my rights.

For not fighting back. But how can I explain to her that it’s not easy to fight someone you love? It’s so easy to break up families, but so terribly difficult to hold them together. I’ve wanted my family to feel that I’m a part of them, not an outsider, someone who brings them gifts. But is it too late now? I don’t know. I need Par meet to help me. I have to make him see that a wife is a companion, a friend, and a lover. Oh God, please help me to be strong, to face this difficult phase in my life.

A small blotch had smudged the words towards the end. Vidya had been crying when she wrote the words. Sonia paused at this point, brushing away the tears gathered in her own eyes. Poor Vidya. So many hopes and expectations and dreams dashed away forever! Had Vidya written these words minutes before she died? Minutes before she was killed? She died with a prayer in her heart.

Sonia felt restless and heavy in the heart. Regret was fast overlapped with anger. Vidya need not have died. If only she had been more alert, more careful. If only she had been less misguided by emotion and love! If only Renuka had approached Sonia earlier… Even yesterday. Instead of celebrating her own birthday, Sonia could probably have saved a life

Stop it! she admonished herself. None of this was her fault. And she wasn’t being sensible creating a halo of regret and guilt within herself. If she wanted to help Vidya at all, she had to find out who had murdered her.

Jatin entered the room.

“What is it?” Sonia asked.

“There’s a guy outside—name Kartik—who says he’d like to see you urgently. It’s something to do with the Vidya case.”

“Really? Would he fit the bill?”

Jatin nodded. “I think so. He could be the guy Vidya’s mother-in-law mentioned.”

“Send him in.”

Sonia’s gaze took in the tall, lanky man as he entered her office. A dark short beard which lined his firm jaw matched his unkempt hair. His black eyes rested anxiously on Sonia. With a jolt she recognised him as the man who had recited poetry in the restaurant the previous evening.

“Please, sit down,” Sonia told him. “What can I do for you?”

“You can catch Vidya’s murderer!” Kartik’s eyes flashed.

“You are… ?”

“I’m Kartik. I was there when you were talking to Renuka and then to the policeman. I had to meet you! You see, I loved her a lot. Always did and always will…” His eyes moistened. “But that’s not the point. You simply can’t let those awful people go scot-free!”

Sonia observed Kartik with narrow eyes. The young man looked distraught. Somehow his open declaration of love did not surprise her. But had Vidya reciprocated his love?

“If anyone in the family is guilty, he or she will be charged for murder,” Sonia assured. “But tell me about you. Were you and Vidya still… ?”

He sighed. “I wish I could say yes. But I can’t. Vidya and I were in love. We were in college and still going steady while I was doing my job as an Accountant and she was doing her Chartered Accountancy. Then her dad fell ill and refused to allow our match. Being an obedient daughter, she married the guy her father chose. And that’s when all her troubles began. At first I stayed away from her. I was disillusioned and angry, but I wanted her to be happy. But gradually I realised that she was miserable. I had to meet with her and tell her that she couldn’t stay on in a marriage that was harming her. But she refused to heed my advice. She wouldn’t have anything to do with me. She told me on the phone that I should forget all about her and leave her to her fate. Of course I couldn’t. I followed her whenever she left her house. I was there, wherever she went, whomever she met. She never knew. And then out of the blue she agreed to meet with me. I was thrilled. I was sure that finally she was beginning to see sense. We met in Sambhaji Park yesterday, in the morning. She had changed so much. She had lost a lot of weight. Unlike the beautiful girl I had loved. And her eyes! I had never seen so much pain in those eyes before. I told her that I still loved her. Just as much as ever. And I would never allow her to return to that hellhole. But she did not budge. Do you know what she told me? She said that I was to move on with my life. Regardless of what happened to her, I was not to look behind. I asked her if she sensed any danger. And what she answered scared me to death. She said, ”There’s more to life than living.“ She said, ”Don’t worry, I have my life totally in control!“ I felt relieved by her confidence. But it didn’t help, did it? Someone did manage to take her life out of her control!” Kartik’s voice choked, as the tears flowed freely down his bearded face.

A wave of sympathy swamped Sonia. She recognised genuine, raw pain and emotion when she saw it. And she felt helpless. Helpless to comfort, to reverse actions and situations, or to advise.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I… feel so angry…” the young man stammered.

“I understand,” Sonia cut in softly.

“I thought that Vidya wanted to patch up things with me, that’s why she’d agreed to meet with me. But it wasn’t like that at all. When we met, I knew in my heart that her feelings for me hadn’t changed. She still cared for me. She was bound by honour to her husband, but a part of her heart would always be with me. I saw it in her eyes. And the way she stared at me, as if trying to etch my face into her memory. And the way she returned our college photograph to me. As if she sensed that something was indeed going to happen to her. And when she requested me to stop following her around. It surprised me that she was aware that I was following her!

“I hate to admit it, but I hung around every night outside her house and spied on her. As long as I could see and hear something, I had to do it. To ensure that everything was fine with her. I knew that she had arguments with her in-laws and that she rarely complained to her husband. But last night was different. Last night, I know that she and her mother-in-law had a roaring argument. Mrs. Sahay was yelling at her, and for the first time Vidya yelled back. Last night, I saw the change in Vidya. The fighting spirit was back. Maybe if she had lived, she would have walked out on her husband in the morning!” Agony was written all over Kartik’s face. “Oh God, if I’d only known that it was her last night, that someone was going to murder her, I would’ve stopped it!”

“Kartik… You had no idea that someone was planning to kill Vidya. You had absolutely no idea!” Sonia interjected harshly. But she understood. Hadn’t she experienced a similar guilt pang earlier? Only, Kartik’s burden was greater than hers. But if there stood even a slight chance of easing his burden, she would take it. For his sake and hers…

After a quick lunch of Misal Pav, Sonia returned to the diary, reading the last entries once again. Something about them puzzled her. Something elusive. Was it Vidya’s words? Her emotions and observations? Or was it something else?

Well, she would discover what it was eventually. Right now, her hands itched to hold the horoscopes, especially Vidya’s horoscope. Now was the time to begin the process of travelling the depths into Vidya’s psyche! Vidya was no more, but her horoscope would reveal the girl to Sonia as if she were still alive. She drew the booklet out of her handbag and opened it. It was traditional charting of the horoscope and Sonia quickly ran her expert eye over it.

Minutes ticked by. Silent minutes which turned into musical beats as Jatin slipped into the inner office and, unnoticed by his Boss, turned on the music system. He knew that his Boss particularly liked non-filmy Hindi ghazals, romantic Hindi film songs, hard rock, and jazz. She’d repeated to him, time and again, the importance of her “I formula”—“Nothing like music and dance to inspire insight into intuition and instigate investigation!” The priority merely went to the volume, which had to be loud and heart-thumping! He quickly left the room, mercifully shutting out the jing-bang which screeched into his sensitive ears.

Sonia’s foot automatically tapped along with the dance instrumental. A finger twirled a lock of silky brown hair, as her mind focused on the horoscope in hand. Zodiac sign Scorpio. Aries on the ascendant.

Jupiter in the sixth house in Virgo, in conjunction with Saturn and the Sun. Mars, Harshal, Neptune, and the Moon in Scorpio in the eighth house. What an unfortunate combination of stars! Vidya’s life seemed to have been fraught with struggle. As a child and then as a youngster and certainly in marriage. The horoscope revealed a very unhappy marriage full of compromises. A very serious health patch was indicated. Vidya was victimised—not only a victim of dowry harassment, but a victim of murder!

Sonia leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Suddenly she stood up and swayed with the music, her eyes still closed. Nidhi opened one sleepy eye, watched her mistress in a detached manner. The cat was used to her mistress’s strange behaviour patterns, specially when loud ear-splitting rumblings seemed to rock the earth! The cat closed her eyes again, willing herself to ignore the sounds. If only her mistress was aware of what Nidhi endured for the sake of love!

Sonia danced with the music, till finally the piece ended. Perspiration trickled down her forehead, but her eyes were gleaming with satisfaction. Excitement coursed through her body as she turned once again to the horoscope, studying it with intensity and then taking up the diary. Her eyes scanned the last few entries. My God, was it possible? She’d heard of dowry harassment and deaths. But this? She needed to see the other horoscopes. As soon as possible!

She quickly opened the booklets handed over to her by the Inspector and laid them side by side. Mr. Sahay, Mrs. Sahay. Loud, blustering, greedy characters. Mercenary and careless. Prepared to go to great lengths to meet their ends. The horoscopes revealed vicious, cruel traits. But cruelty amounting to murder? Sonia moved to the fourth horoscope—Parmeet. Basically a weak person, detached, indifferent. Passive.

Sonia matched Vidya’s horoscope with Parmeet’s and instantly realised that these two were a most un-suited couple. Despite Vidya’s level of tolerance, her horoscope revealed a strong-willed person. Parmeet’s, on the other hand, showed definite signs of submissive-ness. Perhaps it was this submissiveness that was responsible for Vidya’s harassment. The young husband’s lethargy had allowed his parents to cruelly dominate his wife. But where did he fit in the murder?

Sonia studied the four horoscopes again, trying out various permutations and combinations in her mind. Was she being biased? Was she being influenced, subconsciously, by Parmeet’s passionate declaration of his love for his wife? Jatin had said she was naive. She wasn’t, of course. She knew exactly what Parmeet meant. More so, now that she had read all their horoscopes. But if her suspicions were right, she was going to have a tough time proving them. Inspector Shinde had been right. This case was really quite simple. Too simple to be proved! She couldn’t shrug off the strange feeling that she was walking on a road scattered with banana peels. And the danger of skidding off, every time she put a step forward, in whichever direction she chose!

Sonia swept a last thoughtful gaze over the horoscopes and then shut them. She had seen enough.

She buzzed the intercom and Jatin instantly popped his head in. In a glance, he read breakthrough written all over his Boss’s flushed face.

“What is it, Boss?” he asked in anticipation.

“Two things. Gall up Renuka and tell her I need to have a look at the apartment again. Especially Vidya’s room. And then call Kartik. I wish to talk to him.”

“Right, Boss!”

Sonia closed her eyes. Be calm, she admonished herself. There was yet a lot to be done. A lot to be proved. But if she was right, she knew exactly which path to tread on!

She rose and headed towards the computer in the outer office. Jatin was making the calls. He observed her as she connected to the Internet and surfed for a while. Finally she stopped and turned to her assistant.

“What do you know about dowry deaths?” she asked him.

Jatin shrugged. “Nothing.”

“There were amendments made to the Dowry Prohibitions Act of 1961. Under a new section 304-B in the Indian Penal Code, dowry death is an IPC offence, punishable with not less than seven years, which may extend to imprisonment for life.”

“Boss, what are you getting at?”

“Jatin, could you please call up Inspector Shinde? I need to talk to him.”

“Right, Boss,” her assistant responded promptly. Sometimes it was better to do these menial tasks than follow his Boss’s thought process.

Sonia stood outside the Sahay house for a moment, then walked across the street, to the building opposite. Jatin followed her silently. She hadn’t uttered a word for the last half hour. At the foot of the building, she paused and stood gazing up at the window of the first-floor apartment. It was exactly opposite the Sahay bedroom window. So this was the place from which he had spied on her. She moved to the list of apartment owners printed on a black board. Her eyes travelled along the embossed names. Then she turned and Jatin saw her triumphant look.

“What is it, Boss?”

“Come and take a look.”

Jatin frowned. “I… don’t understand…”

“You will, soon.” Sonia smiled. “Come on. We promised to meet Kartik at five. Let’s go!”

Bewildered, her assistant fell in step with her firm and determined stride.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Sonia asked, gazing up at the building.

Kartik nodded. Sonia, Jatin, and Kartik stood outside a gate in the Deccan area. The traffic crowded around the signal, honking impatiently at the two-wheelers, and the crisscrossing pedestrians. Gift and greeting-card shops stood at each corner of the wide intersection.

“I would park my bike on the opposite side and she would stop her auto right by the gate. Every alternate day,” Kartik explained.

“And you have no idea whom she went inside to meet? Or what she did?” Sonia reconfirmed.

“No. I assumed it was some friend, or that she was taking tuitions—you know, teaching students for some extra cash? I didn’t feel the need to pry. I know it may sound odd, specially since I’d been following her around, but I did that only to ensure her safety! Not that it helped a bit!”

“Don’t be too sure of that,” Sonia said in an enigmatic tone. “I believe your persistence may have helped—a lot!”

Jatin quickly glanced at his Boss, but her face was non-committal.

“You two wait here. I’m going in to find out what I can. But I don’t want a crowd,” she said, and the others nodded.

Sonia opened the small gate which led up a path to a curved staircase. On the landing, she came across a shaded glass door with a nameplate. With a mouth gone suddenly dry, she read the name on the door.

“What are you looking for?” Renuka asked again.

With Inspector Shinde’s permission, Sonia had been foraging through cupboards and divans for the last half hour, her fingers determinedly probing hidden corners. Jatin studied his Boss for an explanation, but she gave none. He sympathised with Renuka’s exasperation. He had experienced similar feelings on many cases. But he had discovered that his Boss usually had a very good reason for her secrecy. And he had learnt to respect her investigative methods. Ultimately she was right.

Mrs. Sahay followed them from room to room, glowering, her mouth spewing angry, ugly retorts and comments. “Messing around the house, disrupting my home! All because of that daughter-in-law of mine who had the misfortune of dying in the house! And they blame me and my family! Forgetting that we may be grieved, too, even though she was not the best of daughter-in-laws and had as many flaws as you could count! And the cheek of this… this stranger upsetting my sacred home! God knows which caste she is. She’s even touching my God! Hey Bhagwan—Oh God!—help us. Protect us from these invaders! ”

Sonia ignored the woman. She continued her search in a cool, detached, single-minded manner. Her mind remained focused. She knew exactly what she was looking for. If she could only ferret it out… Where could it be?

Inspector Shinde arrived at that moment. His stance was severe as he announced, “I have an arrest warrant for Mrs. Sahay for murdering her daughter-in-law, Vidya!”

Renuka gave a spontaneous triumphant chuckle.

“No!” Mr. Sahay screamed. “These are all lies! You can’t catch the real murderer, so you’re arresting my wife!”

“The residue in the glass of milk and the contents in the sleeping pill bottle found in your wife’s cupboard are the same. We don’t need further proof.”

“You can’t do this to us. We need to see a lawyer,” Parmeet spoke up.

“Go ahead and contact your lawyer. And say all you want to in the court,” Inspector Shinde retorted.

Sonia cleared her throat. “Inspector Shinde, can I speak to you for a minute?”

Renuka turned to her in surprise and even the policeman looked curious, but he nodded. He gestured to his constables to keep an eye on the Sahays, then followed Sonia and Jatin into the next room. Renuka stepped into the room, after them.

“Yes, what is it, Ms. Samarth? You will have to hurry.” Shinde spoke a trifle impatiently.

“Of course,” Sonia agreed readily. “Let me come straight to the point. I’m afraid you cannot arrest Mrs. Sahay for murder.”

“What!” Renuka exclaimed.

“We have proof, Madam,” the policeman reiterated coldly.

“Let me explain. From the beginning I’ve had this feeling about the three M’s of investigation. The Motive was obvious enough. Harrassment for dowry. But the manner in which Vidya was killed and with the Material used—in this case, the sleeping pills—puzzled me. Why kill your own daughter-in-law in the house with your own pills and men leave the murder weapon around to be found? Also, I was curious about what Vidya’s horoscope had to say about all this. It told me that Vidya had not been murdered, but that she had committed suicide!

A gasp escaped the other three.

“Suicide!” Renuka cried in disbelief. “But why?”

“With Mrs. Sahay’s sleeping pills?” Jatin demanded.

“But she didn’t leave a suicide note,” Shinde added.

“Vidya didn’t leave a suicide note because she did not want anyone to discover that this was a suicide! As we all know, Vidya was terribly harassed by her in-laws for dowry for a car. She knew that there was no way out of this mess. Especially since Parmeet, her husband, was incapable of keeping his parents from making such demands. But she wasn’t going to give in without a fight. She was fed up with life, but she also desperately wanted to teach her in-laws a lesson. She planned it well. She had a loud argument with her mother-in-law, loud enough for Kartik to hear, for she knew he was following her and would prove a perfect witness. She planned it on a night when her husband would be away, because she did not wish to drag him into it. Even in her last moments, when she wrote in her diary, there was no malice or resentment towards her husband. After the argument, she dissolved his mother’s sleeping pills into the glass of milk, and replaced the bottle in Mrs. Sahay’s cupboard. Then, at peace because she would finally have her revenge, she drank the milk. In the morning her husband found her dead.”

A heavy silence ensued, as each grappled with the narration.

At length, Inspector Shinde sighed. “But why go to so much trouble? Had she simply lodged a complaint with the police, the Sahays would have been booked in no time.”

“But for harassment. And not for long. They would’ve been back home within months and with an appetite for vengeance. No, Vidya had to do this right. For good,” Sonia pointed out.

“But to kill yourself…” Renuka murmured.

“You’d be surprised at the mental torture and low self-esteem of these girls who are harassed for dowry. Demands are difficult to be proved. And facing the same intensity of harassment day after day is an ordeal one can only imagine.”

“What about proof?” Shinde asked.

“When you checked the bottle for prints, you found Vidya’s fingerprints on it, didn’t you?” Sonia replied.

“Actually, we did, but since Vidya usually gave her mother-in-law the dose… Perhaps what you say may hold some truth.” The policeman shook his head in amazement.

“The Sahays will go scot-free,” Renuka pointed out gloomily.

“Not exactly,” Sonia added with a half smile. “I said Mrs. Sahay cannot be arrested for murder, but she can be charged for provoking suicide! Isn’t the fact of the death of a woman, within seven years of her married life, under suspicious conditions reason enough for a good lawyer to make a case? Besides, we cannot ignore the cause of the suicide. Harassment. Vidya was frustrated and fed up with the harassment and she killed herself to escape the constant dowry demands. Is that not reason enough for arresting Mrs. Sahay? Section 498-A? Section 498-A in the Indian Penal Code covers harassment—physical and mental torture, emotional torture through verbal abuse. Surely that could drive a woman to commit suicide. Under the law, if it is shown that soon before her death a woman was subjected to cruelty or harassment by her husband, or any relative of her husband, in connection with any demand for dowry, the persons are held responsible for this dowry death.”

Shinde looked at Sonia and smiled. “You’re quite amazing!”

Jatin glanced at his Boss in admiration. Didn’t he already know that?

But anger flashed in Renuka’s eyes. “But Mrs. Sahay will be held for harassment, not a dowry death, thanks to you, Sonia. Why did you do this! Why did you spoil her plan?”

Sonia reserved a dignified silence, allowing the girl to vent her feelings.

“God knows they deserved the punishment! Now, because of you, Parmeet is a free bird-—”

“Vidya did not wish to involve Parmeet in this whole ugly business,” Sonia had to cut in. “Her diary is explicit proof of her devotion to her husband.”

“My friend was a fool! Parmeet is as much to blame as his parents.”

“Not in Vidya’s opinion.”

“And Mrs. Sahay will escape with a mere rap on the knuckles. Considering what they did to her, that’s what a few years in jail will amount to!”

Sonia pursed her lips. “I understand your feelings, Renuka. But nobody murdered Vidya. She was harassed and the harasser will be punished appropriately. But to deliberately plan a suicide and make it appear like your own murder and have someone else accused for it? You may be shocked at the negative implications it will provoke. It will totally tarnish Vidya’s image and even erase most of the sympathy people felt for her. Some may admire her courage, some may even applaud her daring. But I fear Vidya’s plan has complicated matters so much that you cannot ignore the possibility of even Mrs. Sahay going scot-free! What your friend did was unethical.”

“Unethical! How can you stand there and talk about principles when my friend is dead because of these fiends! Don’t talk to me about moral values and understanding!” Renuka hissed. “I wanted these scoundrels to be hanged for what they did to Vidya, and now thanks to you they will proudly strut around in society and find another money-sprouting scapegoat!” She glared at Sonia, then slammed out of the room.

Sonia stared unhappily at her receding back. Consternation was stamped on Jatin’s face, as Inspector Shinde glanced at the detective sympathetically.

Mohnish stood silently by the inner office door, observing Sonia with a frown. She was leaning against her chair, her eyes closed in deep contemplation. She was still, like a statue. And even Nidhi’s antics did not seem to disturb her.

Nidhi was chasing a crumpled piece of white paper round the room, which had spilled out of the upturned plastic dustbin. The dustbin rolled and immediately the cat’s attention was riveted to it. Taking aim, she pounced and slid off it with a crash!

Sonia straightened, opening her eyes.

“Hello! You startled me!” Sonia gasped when she saw Mohnish.

“That’s because you’re not in your element,” Mohnish responded, entering the office.

“When did you arrive?”

“A couple of minutes ago. I didn’t wish to disturb your meditation.”

“Meditation… I wish I was good enough in meditation to blank out all thought from my mind!”

“What’s the matter?” he asked, his tone quiet.

Sonia sighed. “If only I could word the confusion in my mind! Right now, it is a ball of jumbled emotions. Right pitched against wrong, affliction and suffering fighting to surface over justice. Is justice a mere definition on paper?”

Mohnish looked at her with compassion in his deep brown eyes. “You are upset over Renuka’s reaction. Jatin told me all about it. You did the right thing, Sonia. You cannot let emotions override the truth.”

“I know. But Renuka has a point, too. I wonder… if I should never have interfered. I feel as if, in some intrinsic way, I am failing Vidya—failing all those wretched women who are victims of dowry. Perhaps it would’ve been better—more in favour of the ultimate justice—if Vidya’s plot had remained a secret?”

“You wouldn’t have been at peace,” Mohnish stated calmly.

“I’m not at peace, even now. I feel as if someone has punched a hole in my confidence. When I think about Vidya’s past, I realise that none of these events needed to occur. Vidya’s in-laws needn’t have harassed her. Vidya needn’t have died. She tried to teach them a lesson, which now they will never learn. And instead, here I am, being coached by circumstances that justice works at several ends!”

“Sonia, the best thing to do is focus on what is right, not who is right or who should be right,” Mohnish said firmly.

Sonia stared at him a long moment, his words defusing the tension like a bomb. Sudden respect replaced the bewildered expression in her eyes. “You have struck the nail on the head. I think that’s exactly what I need to do. Focus.”

“Good.” Mohnish flashed her a pleased smile.

A key turned in the lock and he entered the dark room. For a time he stood motionless, then he walked to the next room. The room which overlooked her window. There was no light there, either. She had gone, gone forever. He didn’t need to follow her anymore. It was all over. He couldn’t understand if he felt relief or anger. He felt empty. Had it all been worth it? he wondered. He stared at the dark window across the street and for an instant thought he saw a movement there. Somebody was in her room! He strained his eyes. A woman? Not her… He quickly lifted the binoculars and trained them on the window across the street. And that very instant, the lights were switched on in the room. He whirled around and stared in shock. Inspector Shinde, Sonia, and Jatin stood in the doorway.

“Mr. Parmeet Sahay, you are under arrest for cold-bloodedly abetting the suicide of your wife and leaving her to die!” Shinde rasped.

At the same time, the room opposite the street was illuminated and Renuka stood in the window.

Jatin poured out hot cups of chai and handed them to Renuka and Sonia. Nidhi was cuddled on her mistress’s lap.

“But, Boss, you said that Parmeet was innocent!”

“I didn’t say he was innocent!” Sonia corrected. “I said that Vidya did not want him to be involved in her plan. She was loyal to her husband and wanted to keep him blemishless!”

“But then, what exactly happened? Are you saying that it wasn’t Kartik following Vidya?” There was a confused look on Jatin’s face as he drew out a chair and settled down opposite his Boss.

“Kartik was following Vidya to ensure her safety, but he wasn’t aware that both he and Vidya were being followed by Parmeet. Parmeet had always suspected that his wife was involved with someone before marriage and he wasn’t convinced that it was completely over between them. Perhaps because he found the college photograph of Vidya and Kartik in her cupboard. And he grew more suspicious when Kartik began calling Vidya. That was when he decided to do a little bit of his own investigating. He followed his wife around whenever he could. He’d stay away from his night shifts, and from his own vacant flat across the street, he often checked out her activities. Sometimes it was intentional spying and sometimes plain voyeurism!”

“But how did you know all this?” Renuka asked.

“It was Vidya’s horoscope which gave me the lead.

In her horoscope, Moon, the planet which controls the mind, had been negatively influenced by Harshal and Neptune. Moreover they all co-existed in the eighth house, which is the house of death. I realised that this was indeed a horoscope of suicide, not murder. But there were references in Vidya’s diary which were confusing. For example, Kartik told us that Vidya was aware that he was following her. She had even asked him to stop following her around. But in her diary, in the last entry, which was written after her meeting with Kartik, she once again mentioned being followed. Which meant that it wasn’t Kartik she was hinting at this time. She also mentioned a glint of glass from across the street. I immediately thought of the apartment in the opposite building. Kartik had admitted that he had been following her, but he never mentioned that he had been observing her from an apartment. Besides, Kartik had a perfect alibi. He was at the Mula Retreat with friends when Vidya was on the verge of committing suicide. I even saw him there. Which meant that someone other than Kartik was keeping tabs on her.

“In Vidya’s horoscope, Sun—the planet of the spouse—was in conjunction with Saturn in the sixth house, clearly revealing that her husband would be useless for her in terms of companionship. Absolutely no marital happiness. Next, I checked out Parmeet’s horoscope. He had Scorpio as an ascendant with Neptune in the first house, which made him an irresponsible, detached, and eccentric character. Also, Libra in the twelfth house had Sun, Mercury, Venus, Moon, and Harshal in conjunction, which indicated him to be an innately suspicious person. Mars as well as Saturn aspected the same house. It was obvious that not only would his wife die in dramatic conditions, but that he would be provoked into a criminal situation and be punished for it. I wondered where all this reading was going to lead. Could Parmeet be in any way connected with Vidya’s death?

“We checked the list of apartment owners and when I discovered that Parmeet owned the vacant flat opposite Vidya’s bedroom, I realised that it must be he who was following Vidya around. Vidya had mentioned Parmeet’s bird-watching hobby. I put two and two together and searched the house for binoculars, but didn’t find them. Which seemed really odd. If Parmeet bird-watched regularly, where were his binoculars? Were they being used for something else and therefore were not in the house at all? It was then that I knew what exactly had happened. While Vidya sat writing in her diary, minutes before she died, she was convinced that someone was watching her. If her instincts were right, then that someone had also witnessed how Vidya had died. The idea clung like glue to my mind. I decided to check out if Parmeet had reported for night shift at work at nine o’clock. I was told that he arrived a little after midnight. So where was he all this time? If he was keeping close watch on his wife, then he must have seen something to do with her death. Perhaps even seen her commit suicide. Which sat perfectly well with my reading of his horoscope.

“I deduced that Parmeet had watched Vidya drop the sleeping pills in the milk. He knew exactly what she was doing. But he did nothing to stop her. He slipped off to work without alerting anyone and then arrived on his own doorstep early the next morning, pretending to be stunned by his wife’s death. This, of course, was all conjecture on my part. I had no proof. But I realised that we could have a leg to stand on if I could catch him red-handed with the binoculars, since everything hinged upon the binoculars. We were lucky that he went back to the room, and seeing Renuka across the street, he raised the binoculars one last time to his eyes. That helped us prove that Parmeet coldheartedly observed and abetted his wife’s suicide, and that is a grave crime indeed!”

“It was a good idea to use me as a substitute for poor Vidya,” Renuka acceded.

Jatin sighed. “But why did he want her dead?”

“I don’t believe that he deliberately planned her death. Perhaps not at first, at least. Matters just took their own course. Any normal person’s instinct would have been to rush home and stop his wife from drinking that glass of milk, or at least call the doctor after she did so. But Parmeet was careless and irresponsible. He had no particular love for Vidya. She was simply the woman he had married. Also, he was convinced that his wife was still involved with her ex-boyfriend and that enraged him. He conveniently ascribed her unbalanced state of mind and her desire to end her life to her affair. Also, the constant hassles with his parents, the dowry demands, and the tension at home—I believe that he was kind of glad it was all resolving, without any one of them lifting a finger. He had no idea that he’d lifted a whole hand in assisting her to die!”

Renuka shuddered. “What a ruthless thing to do! And to think that Vidya trusted him and loved him and wanted to keep him from being implicated in her plan! He couldn’t have betrayed her in a more horrible manner!”

“Yes, poor Vidya!” Sonia agreed, with feeling.

“But why didn’t Parmeet try to save his mother? He knew that Vidya’s death was not murder.”

“Firstly, I think, because he was entirely unaware that Vidya had planned such a clever ruse to trap his mother. He was confused, because he’d seen her commit suicide with his own eyes. The bottle in his mother’s cupboard confused not only us but him, too. Then when he had finally figured out his wife’s ingenious scheme, there lay the risk of exposing his own hideous behaviour. He would have had to reveal that not only had he seen her suicide and heardessly done absolutely nothing to stop it, but he had deliberately hidden the fact! It was his mother’s neck against his neck. And probably he didn’t really expect it to come to an arrest. Perhaps he thought he could stop the whole accusation process at some point,” Sonia analysed.

“I’m glad at least one of them is going to face serious charges,” Renuka remarked bitterly. Then she looked a little abashed. “Sonia, I really need to apologise! I’ve been insufferably rude to you. You must think me to be—”

“Renuka, don’t apologise. I understand. You were devastated by your friend’s death and you suspected that I was deliberately letting the Sahays off the hook. At that point, I couldn’t reveal my suspicions to you. Not without proof.”

The other girl shrugged, but added with a smile, “Thank you, Sonia. Thank you for finding a way to see justice done.”

“I just feel sorry for Vidya. What an unpleasant, irreversible mess of a beautiful life,” the detective sighed.

The March evening was hot as Sonia approached a bench in Sambhaji Park. Families strolled around the sprawling park, eating bhel and rajjda patties. Kartik sat waiting for her, a photograph clutched in his hand. Sonia took the seat beside him. As usual he was dressed in a khadi kurta and jeans, his hand clutching a sling bag beside him on the wooden, red-painted bench.

“You knew, didn’t you?” he asked, without preamble.

Sonia nodded. “It was there in the diary. That she was tired of taking the medicine. And also in her horoscope. That she would suffer from a terminal disease.” Sun and Saturn in the sixth house, which was the house of disease; Jupiter rendered weak in Virgo; Lord of the sixth house, Mercury, trapped between Saturn in the sixth house and Mars in the eighth house; Lord of the first house, Mars, in the eighth house, the house of death, in conjunction with Moon and with Saturn aspecting it—all extremely damaging planetary positions, leading to disease and death. Sonia recalled the numbness and deep sympathy she’d felt when she first realised the truth of Vidya’s failing health.

“I spoke to the Doctor at the clinic where she underwent her regular treatment. She did not have long to live,” she told Kartik.

Tears glittered in his eyes. “So she found a way out. Suicide was the answer to all her problems. That’s why she told me not to look back, no matter what happened. She wasn’t going to sway from her plan.”

“Perhaps it was for the best,” Sonia consoled. “Perhaps the pain was too much for her. But she proved that she still possessed that fighting spirit you knew in her. Did you do as I told you to do?”

Kartik nodded. He turned the photo frame in his hand and removed the cardboard back. A piece of paper slipped out. Without a word, he handed it to Sonia.

With a sudden thudding of the heart, she opened the single fold. Vidya was speaking to them from the dead.

Dear Kartik,

I’ve always cared for you. But life must go on. So must you. Don’t grieve for me. I told you, life is not always only about living. This note is to say that I will soon be at peace. My in-laws have not murdered me, as I planned it to look. My intention was only to teach them a lesson—in harassment. And hope that they will never harass anybody ever again!

Vidya.

Sonia stared at the note, her eyes moist. Vidya had never intended to harm anybody in a long-lasting manner. Sun and Jupiter in her horoscope had helped Vidya keep her conscience awake. It was Sonia’s belief in the horoscope that had made her realise that the girl must’ve left a suicide note. An emergency note, in case matters got out of hand. And there was only one place where it could’ve been hidden. In the photograph which Vidya had returned to Kartik.

“Can I keep this note?” he asked softly.

“I’m afraid not. It is evidence and will have to be handed over to the police. I’m sorry.”

“I understand.” He shrugged. “But will this mean that the three Sahays… ?”

“No. Mr. and Mrs. Sahay have been arrested. For harassment. That is proved beyond doubt. And Parmeet is in grave trouble for abetting suicide, which he has admitted. Their crimes still stand,” she remarked grimly.

“Thank God!”

Sonia rose and stared down at Kartik.

“Pain is life. Remember, without pain and death, life would have no meaning,” she told him. Then she took his hand in a firm handshake. “Goodbye, Kartik. Remember what Vidya said. Think of the happy times you spent with her, because it’s the only way to live. Transposing bitter experiences into happy memories.”

“I’ll try,” Kartik whispered.

As Sonia made her way through the tree-lined path to her van, for some strange, inexplicable reason, she thought of Sarang. Her little brother. Lost and gone forever. Mohnish’s words rang in her mind. “It’s the only way to live. Transposing bitter experiences into happy memories…

Horoscope of Deepa

II SHREE II

ANYTHING FOR LOVE—HOROSCOPE OF DEEPA

Born on 31st January, 5.00 a.m.

Zodiac Sign—Sagittarius

Ascendant—Sagittarius

Neptune, Moon, Harshal, Rahu, Venus, and Mars in Sagittarius,

in the 1st House

Mercury, Saturn and Sun in Capricorn, in the 2nd House

Ketu in Gemini, in the 7th House

Jupiter in Leo, in the 9th House

3

Anything for Love

“Are you sure?” Sonia asked, keeping aside the newspaper she was reading.

“Positive. I was in late, taking stock of the new material which was going to arrive from Mumbai. Due to some problem on the Express Highway, the van arrived well after midnight,” Devika replied. “I was alone, waiting for the delivery, when I distinctly heard a noise outside. At first I thought it was Nidhi, but then I saw something white flash past my window. I couldn’t let it pass as my imagination, so I went to the window—just in time to see a bloated figure in stark white turn the corner of the wall to your office! It was definitely someone moving around. Of course, I didn’t dare pursue the search!”

“What do you mean ”a bloated figure‘?“

“It was just a flash and a lot of white, like a white plastic bag or balloon filled with air. Only there was a person inside it, for sure. That’s what I wanted to ask you. Does this place by any chance have a reputation of being haunted?” Devika asked, with a grin.

Sonia returned the smile. “Not that I know of. But this is a very old building, you can make that out from the architecture. More than a hundred years old, at the least. So there could be ghost stories attached to it. I didn’t think of asking when I rented it!”

“Neither did I, though of course, my agent found this place for me.” Devika finished off her cup of chai and rose. “Anyway, I thought you should know that there was a prowler here last night. Could be a petty thief, of course, or maybe someone looking for a shortcut to the main road.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

“I’ve been thinking.” Devika frowned. “Have you thought of keeping a night watchman for the office?”

“I’ve never felt the least bit of necessity for a watchman. But you sound quite concerned. Do you really think this figure in white was more than a passing shortcut finder?” Sonia raised a questioning eyebrow.

Devika shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I’m being unnecessarily paranoid. It’s just that I’ve got a lot of valuables in the boutique—designer jewellery, clothes, semi-precious stones. But on the other hand, would a petty thief understand the value of designer jewellery?”

“He probably wouldn’t. Unless he thinks that it’s all real?” Involuntarily the image of The Owl flashed through Sonia’s mind. At least there was no danger of him being tempted to visit the boutique. A connoisseur in diamonds like him could smell fake jewellery planets and oceans away!

“Quite true. Anyway, let’s hope it doesn’t happen again. I better get back to the boutique. Thanks for the lovely tea, and see you later!” Devika sailed out of the door and Sonia smiled.

The designer always seemed to be in such a tearing hurry. Though of late she had made it a habit of dropping in for a morning cup of chai, before the stream of buyers crowded her shop. Devika was doing well and she was very pleased with the turnout of enthusiastic Punekars.

Sonia turned her attention to the newspaper, which she had put aside when Devika had burst into the office. Her eyes ran over the detailed account of the Sahay case—journalist Mohnish at work. And Sonia was pleased that Mohnish had featured their first case of the year in glowing words. Perhaps he’d realized, just as she had, that Stellar Investigations could do with some positive publicity. Apart from narrating the Sahay case accurately, he’d also added his own comments on how poison—the oldest weapon of death— was still a favourite in suicides and murders. As Sonia folded the newspaper, she conceded that she shared his concern. Easy accessibility, in a variety of forms, had lured even the common man into the world of crime and this was definitely a disturbing prospect.

She had called up Mohnish and thanked him for the well-written article. But in typical Mohnish style, he had brushed off her acknowledgement, saying that he had merely done his duty by reporting an important case.

Sonia glanced at the wall clock. Eleven! And Jatin still hadn’t arrived. Strange. He was usually here first thing in the morning to open the office. It was totally unlike him to be absent without notice. She frowned, wondering what could’ve kept him, when the phone rang.

“Hello, Sonia.”

“Dad!” Sonia exclaimed in surprise. Her father rarely called her at the office. “Is everything all right?”

Mr. Samarth laughed, amused at her concern. “Everything’s absolutely fine! How are things with you?”

“Not bad. Nidhi has had her meal and is taking a nap and Jatin hasn’t arrived yet.”

“Is it a busy day?”

“Quite unlikely. I’ve nothing on hand—I mean, no urgent case knocking on my door at least,” Sonia replied, a little regretfully. “Why?”

“I want you to do me a favour. I’ve got two passes for a special show for invitees of a play called Premasaathi Kahihi—Anything for Love. A friend of mine, Ravi Pujar, has financed the play. Ravi’s into promoting Marathi theatre, specially in Pune. He says he feels privileged to be a part of the long theatre culture of the city.”

“I’ve heard of the play. It is directed by my college friend Karan Mujumdar. He was my senior in Fergusson College,” Sonia replied. She hadn’t uttered Karan’s name in years. In fact, she hadn’t even thought of him in ages!

“You know him? Good. You know I’m not too fond of plays and your Mother isn’t interested, either. I was wondering if you could attend the show? As a representative of the Samarth family?”

“What time is it?”

“Six this evening. You could take Jatin along or your new friend, Devika. Or better still, how about Mohnish?” her Father suggested.

Sonia grinned. Her Dad wasn’t being too subtle. “Don’t seem to have much of a choice, do I?”

“I’d appreciate it if you could go. I don’t want to disappoint my friend Ravi and I’m sure Mohnish would enjoy the change…”

“Dad, I didn’t say I’m asking Mohnish to go with me,” Sonia reminded lightly, but there was a smile on her lips.

“Then I guess what I’m saying is—Ask him! Take him to a play, and go for dinner. Then enjoy a summer night walk, chat to your heart’s content, and have a comfortable and wonderful time together. I promise, your Mother and I won’t ask you what time you returned home.”

Sonia laughed. “Dad, you’re too good to be true!”

“Then you’ll invite Mohnish for the play?”

“I’ll ask him if he’s free,” Sonia conceded.

“Good. Since I’m going to be out the whole day I’ll keep the tickets ready at home. Enjoy yourself, dear!”

Sonia was still smiling as she replaced the receiver. Her Father was actually matchmaking! Which meant that her parents liked Mohnish. That pleased her. Though she wasn’t ready for matchmaking, of course. Mohnish was a decent guy and she found his company refreshing, and at times positively invigorating, but there were sides to him. Something that she’d seen in his horoscope when she had checked it last year. Some mystery. And an angle which she wished to explore, sooner or later. Until that time, she wasn’t ready to consider a serious relationship with him. But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t enjoy a healthy friendship with him. Her Father was right. She would invite Mohnish. If only in reciprocation for the wonderful article he’d written.

She moved to the box window where Nidhi was cuddled on the colourful pillows. Despite the May heat, the cat was comfortable, occasionally licking herself to maintain her body temperature. Sonia wished she had such a cooling-down technique. Smiling at the idea, she plumped up the cushions and caressed Nidhi’s silky fur. The cat responded with a purr of appreciation.

The door opened and Jatin strode in. He was beaming, sporting a brand-new leather jacket, over a new yellow T-shirt.

“Hello, Boss!”

“Jatin! Where’ve you been!”

“Boss, the most wonderful thing in the world has happened to me!”

Sonia eyed his new clothes. “You mean your leather jacket? On a hot May day?”

“Doesn’t it look great on me? Naina seems to think so.”

“Naina?” Sonia turned from Nidhi to focus completely on her assistant. Jatin was flushed, and grinning from ear to ear. Something was definitely wrong!

“Boss, I’m in love! I’ve found the most perfect girl in the world!”

Jatin in love? The concept was incredibly new and awe-inspiring. Not to mention the umpteen possibilities and doors that Jatin’s being in love opened! And which sent shudders down her back.

But Jatin scarcely noticed the response—bordering on horror, over the contemplation of events to come— that his declaration had evoked. “Boss, she’s an angel. Lovely from head to toe. So charming and sweet to talk to. I can’t take my eyes off her!”

“Where did you meet this girl?” Sonia asked, careful not to disclose her inner sentiments.

“Naina—her name’s Naina, short for Sunaina. Isn’t that beautiful? And just like her name, her eyes are beautiful. I met her at Frenzy. Remember that disco club you and Mohnish so unsuitably went to for a date last year?”

Sonia winced.

“My friends and I have been partying at the disco regularly and I met Naina there by chance. It was love at first sight!” Jatin declared, happiness radiating from his face, as he drew out a chair and settled down in it.

“Pomegranate-red cheeks, hair the colour of Kokam, and skin like a peeled banana?” Sonia asked, in an incredulous tone.

“All that and more! She’s gorgeous…” Jatin gushed, a dreamy look in his eyes. “And we hit it off like tabla and dagga!”

Sonia smiled faintly. Tabla and Aagga—the famous Indian pair of small drums! What next?

“And does she reciprocate your feelings?” she asked carefully.

“I haven’t asked her yet, Boss. These things have to be handled with care. I don’t wish to scare her off,” Jatin remarked patiently. “But of course, I can feel it. I’m positive she reciprocates my feelings for her. She’s always adjusting her hair when I’m around. And she told me I look handsome in this jacket! These are sure signs of her interest in me! By the way, what do you think of the jacket?”

Sonia hated being caught in a trap like that. Handsome? She thought the jacket, which must have cost Jatin his whole month’s salary, looked roguish. But she didn’t dare put her thoughts in words. Jatin already thought Sonia to be jaded and an old maid. Her opinion of his clothes would be put on a back shelf now that a certain Naina was freely ladling out praise.

“I like you just as well, in whatever you wear, Jatin,” she replied non-committally. “Now, how about some work?”

“Work? Boss, I’m in love! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” her assistant exclaimed, as if that excused everything. Then he grinned sympathetically. “It’s okay. I don’t really expect you to understand!”

Quite unaware that he’d just said something outrageous, Jatin sailed out of the room, whistling merrily. Sonia shook her head in exasperation. Now she would have to invite Mohnish for the play and have a good time. If only to prove her love-struck assistant wrong!

“What are you saying?” Anup almost shouted into the phone. “Are you saying you don’t love me?”

“I’m sorry, but that’s true. I’m actually in love with someone else…” Jaya began.

“In love with someone else?” Anup repeated stupidly. Jaya’s voice sounded husky, a little different, but it quickened his heartbeat nevertheless.

“Yes and—”

“Is it Karan?”

“I’m not going to tell you who it is. All I can disclose is that I’m…pregnant. I have to marry him!” Jaya uttered the words softly.

“You’re… ? I don’t believe you! Till last week, you were declaring your undying love to me!”

“I know. But I can’t carry on this charade anymore, Anup. To be honest with you, I needed the publicity. You, such a successful theatre personality, and me, an upcoming starlet. And it certainly helped. I’m almost as famous as you now. But that also means that I don’t need you anymore. I have to think of my child now.”

“How can you say such things!” Anup exclaimed, horrified. “All those secret meetings, everything we said to each other…”

“Meant a lot to me. At the time. But we cannot marry and live together until death do us part!” She laughed softly, sexily.

Fury boiled inside him. “I was going to leave my wife for you!”

“Now you don’t have to. And I hope that Deepa never knows about this brief interlude. I’m willing to keep quiet—for a price, of course.”

“A price? Are you blackmailing me?” he asked, incredulous.

Jaya laughed softly into the receiver. “Such an ugly word—blackmail. I prefer to call it a gift. A parting gift, for all the pleasures we shared!”

“You’re crazy!” he exploded.

“I hope not. I mean, I would be if I simply close this issue without something to remember you by,” she agreed. “And I even dare hope that we’ll continue to be friends. At least till today’s show’s over. I know, this moment you’re so angry, you wish you could pour real poison into the glass for the last scene of our show. I’m right, aren’t I? I can understand your anger. I would perhaps feel the same. But one day you’ll thank me for this.”

“I’m never going to thank you for anything!”

“Then, let’s at least pretend to be friends till the show’s over. Specially during lunch this afternoon, which your darling wife has arranged for all of us. We don’t want her to suspect anything at all, do we? Especially as it’s all over now! After the show, I’ll tell you how much your parting gift is going to cost you. Then you go your way and I go mine. Goodbye, Anup.”

The phone clicked shut.

Anup stared at the receiver. He couldn’t believe what she’d just said to him. As if all they’d shared didn’t matter at all. In love with someone else? The other man had to be Karan, their Director! A knife of jealousy twisted in Anup’s heart. How could she talk so coldly to him? And pregnant?

Suddenly Anup stumbled towards a chair and sank into it. My God! She’d been treating him like some fool. Using him for fun, while all along she’d cared only for the publicity. And he’d cheated on his wife. Dear darling Deepa. So patient, so loving. Deepa had given up her flourishing acting career to get married to him and to look after their home. And he’d betrayed her, for that… that tramp of an actress Jaya! He had ignored his guilt and even the admonishments of that mystery woman who warned him about Jaya. He had never believed the stories that the mystery woman, who claimed to know Jaya very well, had narrated to him. He had chosen not to believe her, because he was consummately in love with Jaya! And look where it had landed him. Blackmail! The tramp actually had the gall to demand money from him! Oh God, what would happen if Deepa found out?

Remorse and shame, mingled with bitter anger, choked him. What in heavens was he to do? Despite her threats and proclamations, he couldn’t just give up on Jaya. He’d risked too much for her. His marriage. His career. She couldn’t simply walk out on him, as if nothing had ever transpired between them. She couldn’t just leave him in shambles and go on to enjoy a happy and fruitful life, with his money. He wouldn’t allow that. He had to stop her. From ruining his life!

His eye caught the bottle of cockroach poison on the table. Deepa had said something about there being too many cockroaches in the house and she had bought the bottle just this morning. But she was also a little absentminded, totally dragged down by all the housework, which, despite the servants, she insisted that she supervise herself. She would never miss the bottle. And anyway, even if she did, she’d think she’d misplaced it. The bottle seemed to beckon him. What had Jaya said? That they couldn’t live together until death do them part? Well, she was wrong! Death would tear them apart, with or without marriage! Without a moment’s hesitation, Anup picked up the bottle of cockroach poison and pocketed it.

“Thank you, Karan, you’re such a dear, and I really wish you all the success for the special show of Premasaathi Kahihi today. I guarantee you, you’re going to change the ever-flourishing Marathi theatre scene in Pune!” Deepa wished the Director as he handed her a tray of orange juice glasses. Dressed in jeans and a baggy shirt, with her long wavy hair confined to a rubber band, Deepa could easily pass as a college girl.

Karan, on the other hand, carried himself with the dignity of a Director. Tall, with an abundant thatch of hair, he was good-looking in a distinguished kind of way. “My pleasure, and thank you very much,” he told Deepa, smiling. “You’re coming early to help around, aren’t you?” he asked, as they headed to the small group of people relaxing on the armchairs scattered about the lawn.

“Yes, of course I am! Here are the drinks, everybody! I’m afraid no hard drinks before the show! We don’t want our audience running away because the actors were all reeking of alcohol, do we?”

The general exaggerated groans made Deepa grin. She glanced fondly at her husband. Anup had picked up a glass and was raising it to her. The warm glint in his eyes filled her with pleasure. How handsome Anup looked amidst this theatre crowd. He seemed to rise above them. Of course he did. He appeared older than his thirty years, but that had proven to be an advantage, granting him the opportunity of playing older as well as younger roles. He was getting a lot of film offers lately. He and Jaya. Deepa turned her attention to the beautiful, graceful woman who was much younger than either of them. She was reclining in an armchair, her eyes closed to the sun. Jaya, with her flowing tresses and faultless complexion, was talented and certainly deserved the break she was getting. Besides, the onstage chemistry her husband and the actress shared was amazing. If she hadn’t known better, Deepa would’ve thought they were really in love with each other. But she knew better. No woman would ever be a threat to her. She drew the chair beside her husband.

“How are you feeling, dear?” she asked in a throaty whisper.

He turned to her, so that his face almost touched hers in a romantic caress. “Wonderful, now that you’re here.”

She laughed prettily, flinging her long ponytail behind her back.

Jaya opened her eyes and watched them.

“You do look quite fresh and geared up,” Deepa told her husband.

“I feel excited about the show,” Anup agreed, taking a sip of the juice.

“Good, I want you to continue to feel the same even after the show. Remember your promise? Our ”project twins‘?“ Deepa giggled.

“What’s ”project twins‘?“ Jaya couldn’t help asking.

Deepa looked a little abashed but replied with a smile. “We both desperately want twins. Don’t we, darling? It’s our very own personal project!”

Jaya’s eyes widened questioningly as she turned to Anup, who returned her look with a cruel, hard stare. “You never told me!” she said.

“Come on, Jaya. You’re a very good friend of ours, but even you can’t expect me to reveal all our couple secrets to you, can you?” Anup asked cruelly.

Jaya blushed and lowered her eyes.

“Why can’t she? Jaya and Karan are our best friends. I think they ought to know everything that goes on in our life!” Deepa smiled at the actress.

“Absolutely right,” Karan agreed, joining them. “What’s for lunch? I’m ravenous!”

“Something delicious and light. So that all of you don’t fall asleep before the special show!” Deepa teased. “Why don’t you and Jaya go take a look at what’s cooking?” She winked at Karan.

“Good idea! Come on, sweetheart!” Karan dragged the reluctant actress by the hand and led her inside the house.

“What a sweet couple they make, don’t they?” Deepa remarked, observing their exit.

“They sure do!” Anup mumbled, desperate to hide the anger that was ripping him apart.

“Boss, there’s something you must see.” Jatin approached Sonia with a piece of paper in his hand. He had removed his jacket and much of his love euphoria seemed to have been removed with it.

“What is it?”

“This paper was pushed in through the window.

I’m not sure you’re going to like it.“ His tone was grave.

Sonia raised an eyebrow. It was not every day that Jatin spoke so seriously. She took the paper from him. “Get lost with your Astrology!” The rude words leaped off the slip of paper, taking the detective by surprise.

“What do you make of it?” Jatin observed his Boss narrowly.

“Insulting, to begin with. And written by some stupid person to satisfy cheap rivalry!” Sonia concluded, opening her drawer and dropping the note into it.

“Not to be taken seriously?”

“At least not for the moment.”

Jatin shrugged. “Does seem like some jealous type. How about lunch?”

“I’m starving. But you don’t want anything to eat, do you? I thought, when in love food and sleep go out of the window!”

“You’re really outdated, Boss. These days, love thrives on a full stomach,” Jatin laughed.

Jaya knocked on the door of Anup’s makeup room. Without awaiting a response, the actress opened the door and slipped inside. Anup was applying his makeup. As Jaya appeared in the double mirrors, he turned in surprise. The young woman looked resplendent in her realized red ghagara choli. Unpredictably, for the first time the sight of her beauty failed to impress him. Instead, it made his blood boil.

“The play’s about to begin! What are you doing here?” he asked sharply.

“I need to talk to you for a few minutes.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. And certainly not now. You know that I don’t like to do anything else before a show. I like to concentrate.” He returned to the mirror.

“It wasn’t like this before. You liked to meet me every single free minute of our time,” she reminded him sarcastically.

“So who’s responsible for that?” Anup stared at her reflection in the mirror.

“What do you mean, ”‘who’s responsible for that?“ As if it’s only my fault!” she snapped.

“It is your fault!” Anup accused harshly. “Look, the show’s about to start. Why don’t you go calm your nerves? We have a lot of romantic scenes to enact!”

“Enact being the operative word, of course. Making love is no longer natural for us, is that what you’re saying?”

“You said it, not me!”

“You’re despicable, do you know that? I was right about you all along!”

He turned to face her, anger blazing in his eyes. “And I was right about you! You are nothing but a two-timer, out for cheap publicity and a quick buck!”

“How dare you say such things when all you did was actually use me, till your ”project twins‘ could get through!“ she flung at him.

“Stop it! There’s no point talking about who’s pregnant and who isn’t! And don’t you dare drag Deepa into this! She’s the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met!”

“Sure, but does that wonderful person know what a contemptible man you are?”

Anup paled. “You won’t say a word to Deepa.” His voice was freezing cold.

Jaya uttered a short, mirthless laugh. “Oh-oh! Looks like I’ve touched a raw point. So much love, so much sense of protection—out of the blue—for a woman you were ready to leave just a day ago!”

“Thank God my eyes opened in time!”

“And thank God mine did, too, before it was too late! You’re the most detestable man I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet! You cheated me and you’re going to pay for it!”

“We’ll see who pays what in the end. Right now, I don’t ever want to lay eyes on you again! I want you out of my life for good,” he threw at her with venom.

Jaya stared at Anup, as if struck physically. “Be careful what you wish for, sometimes wishes come true…” Her eyes glinted with cold hatred.

She turned and strode out of the room.

Anup gazed at the closed door, his heart and face filled with loathing. He couldn’t allow Jaya to go free, with her threats and baseless accusations. And most important, he couldn’t live with the eternal sword on his head, the fear of Deepa learning about what he had done. His hand went to his pocket and he drew out the bottle of poison. This was one wish which was definitely going to come true.

The hall was illuminated as the curtains closed for the interval. Crowds surged towards the entrance of the Balgandharva Rangmandir—Theatre Hall—for a quick smoke, to chat in the cool evening, or to avail themselves of the refreshments. Mohnish turned in his cushioned seat and realizedon Sonia with an assessing gaze. “I can’t believe that you actually invited me to a play!” he remarked candidly.

Sonia blushed. “Why should it surprise you? You’ve taken me out to dinner and even to a disco last year, though you hate dancing! Why shouldn’t I invite you to a play?”

People jostled past their chairs in the second row from the stage and Mohnish waited a moment for diem to pass. He looked handsome in a checked blue T-shirt and beige trousers. Sonia wore a white chiffon Salwar Kameez with silver embroidery. Her hair framed a heart-shaped face, swinging silkily. She looked elegant and poised. As he leaned over to talk to her, he caught the whiff of her faint perfume. Wild flowers dancing in the wind…

“I’m glad you did invite me, though I wish it had been your idea and not your dad’s!” He spoke in a low voice.

Sonia laughed. “It’s a step forward, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely! And not just any play—a romantic play!”

“Hey, please don’t read too much into that, okay? I had no say over the choice of the play!” she interrupted hastily.

Mohnish burst into a hearty laughter. “Will you stop! I’m kidding, okay? Why don’t you just learn to suspend logic and rational feeling and just enjoy yourself for a change?”

Sonia searched his face and found no sarcasm there. “Right.” She grinned sheepishly.

“And the play’s excellent. The lead actor and actress—what are their names?”

“Anup and Jaya,” Sonia supplied.

“Anup and Jaya are superb. There’s so much fire and energy between them, as if they’re truly in love. I particularly liked that scene in which she bursts into laughter and then tears, when she tells him about the death of her mother. And the way he comforts her and holds her close. It was beautifully enacted, don’t you think so?”

Sonia nodded. “I think the credit should also go to the Director, Karan. The nuances in the development of their relationship are remarkable. Especially the difference in their religious upbringing, and the strong opposition they have to face from all sides. She’s a Muslim and he’s a Hindu. I wonder what the end’s going to be.”

“They live happily ever after?”

“I hope so. I hate tragic endings.”

The third bell rang and the audience returned to their seats. The lights dimmed and the play resumed. Mohnish and Sonia watched, totally enthralled by the performances of the two lead actors. As scene followed scene, the emotions of the lovers on the stage swung high and then low, as they battled the opposition from society to their love. Finally, frustrated and fed up, they decide to celebrate their love and make it eternal by ending their lives.

The lights onstage were dim as the last scene was enacted. Anup and Jaya looked at each other with tears in their eyes. They hugged, then moved away without a word. A lump formed in Mohnish’s throat. A little ashamed, he flashed a glance at his companion and with great surprise witnessed drops glistening on Sonia’s eyelashes. Spontaneously, he grasped her hand and squeezed it.

Jaya poured juice into a glass and handed the juice to Anup, who did the same. Then they moved to the opposite ends of the sitting room. A sad, melancholy song of loving and parting played in the background, as the two lovers poured poison into their glasses. Then they approached, stared longingly into each other’s eyes, and exchanged glasses. They raised their glasses silently in a toast to their love, and then simultaneously swallowed their last and final drink. As they finished the juice, the poison began reacting and they clutched hands, desperately holding on to the ebbing spirit of life. They crashed to the ground, entwined in each other’s arms, while the music reached a peak. The curtains closed on their fallen bodies.

A thunderous applause ripped through the auditorium. Sonia and Mohnish rose, clapping hard. Tears flowed freely down Sonia’s cheeks. In moments, the Director and the two actors came onstage. All three bowed low, smiling and looking triumphant. The applause grew steadily in appreciation of the realistic performances and the successful direction. And then Jaya stumbled. Karan held her, as she swayed and lost balance, crumpling to the floor.

“Jaya!” the Director cried.

Anup watched on, a strange smile on his lips. Then his smile faltered and he, too, lost his footing, clutching his throat. Within seconds, his face had changed colour and his eyes took on a look of horror, as he dropped to the wooden stage floor.

“Somebody call a Doctor!”

It took a while for the audience to realize that this was no more fine acting! The clapping echoed into eerie silence, as shocked faces turned to one another throughout the auditorium.

A couple of assistants urged the audience to leave, and one by one they trooped outside, numb and shaken.

What exactly had happened? Sonia glanced at Mohnish, a speculative glint in her eyes. Poisoning? Again!

“Come on!” she urged Mohnish. “We’ve got to go backstage.”

Mohnish followed the detective as they threaded their way through the human traffic. Pushing past the gathering crowd, they climbed up to the stage.

“Make way, please. I’m Sonia Samarth, an Investigator. What’s happened here?” Sonia spoke authoritatively.

Instinctively the knot of people onstage made way and Sonia saw Karan and a woman kneeling beside the fallen couple. The woman was sobbing. A Doctor from the audience was examining Anup. Sonia dropped on her knees and quickly checked Jaya’s pulse. A very faint pulse. She hastily turned to Anup. Very weak.

“The van’s outside. Let’s take them to the hospital!” someone shouted.

Immediately, Karan and the woman rose. A backstage member tapped on the woman’s shoulder. “Yours.” He thrust a blue-checked handkerchief in her hands.

She glanced at it with wet eyes, then shook her head. “Not mine,” she mumbled, then turned to the flurry of activity.

The two unconscious artistes were carried by the anxious play members.

Sonia stared after the departing bodies, a deep sorrow choking her. Perfect lovers onstage. But parting like true lovers in real life?

Inspector Divekar had taken charge. The Police were bustling around asking questions of the play members, who seemed as nonplussed as the audience at the sudden turn of events. How could a play end in real tragedy? Who had tried to kill Anup and Jaya, and why? For the first time the theatre people had more questions to ask than the Police. Everyone hung around inactively, the sets yet to be dismantled. No one seemed in the mood to wind up the scene.

Sonia stood in the wings, watching the official Police inquiry, a strange reluctance in her heart. She knew that she should begin investigating, interact with the play crew, and assist Uncle Jeevan, if he wished. But she felt hesitant to be a part of this odd scenario. The play was over and its end was far too real, so why did she feel that the playacting wasn’t over?

Karan sat in a corner of the stage, looking stunned. Sonia observed him in silence. He hadn’t changed much. The same serious good looks that once upon a time had set her shy teenage heart racing. For an instant, the image of herself, sitting for long hours in the library, waiting for a glimpse of him, rose in her mind. The image faded and she shook her head. That was a long time ago and her crush had paled into a vague memory. But her sensitivity towards him hadn’t. With sudden resolve, Sonia moved towards him.

“Sonia?” He recognized her instantly. “What are you doing here?”

“Glad you remember me.” She took the stool beside him.

“Of course I do! Wish we could’ve met in pleasanter circumstances,” he remarked sadly.

“I was here for the play and witnessed what happened,” Sonia volunteered. “I’m sorry it all ended like this.”

Karan nodded, staring dazed at a chip on the stage floor. He wiped the sheen of perspiration on his forehead and shook his head in anger. Then he looked up and there were tears in his eyes. “Why did this happen? Why? We were just beginning the shows for this play and we were booked all over Maharashtra! How can one explain such a tragedy?”

“There was poison in the juice they poured out to each other,” Sonia said simply. “Or perhaps real poison in the bottles.”

Karan looked startled. “But that’s impossible!”

“Where was the juice before the play began?” Sonia asked.

“It was kept ready in the side wings before the show…” Karan replied, a little more steadily.

“And what about the poison bottles that they used for the last scene?”

“The property man provides the bottles. They are also kept ready, on a stool, just beside the stage, in the side wings, for the scene.” Karan hesitated. “You think someone replaced the coloured water with real poison?”

Sonia shrugged. “Quite possible. But the question remains: Who would want to do such a thing?”

“I don’t know, I don’t understand any of this! Why would someone want to try and kill Anup and Jaya?”

“Usually the motives range from jealousy, professional rivalry to personal hatred. Is there anyone who would fit any one of these motives?”

Karan looked thoughtful.

Sonia knew that jealousy and professional rivalry were the most common features in showbiz. Personal hatreds, chequered pasts, and obsessive fan following resulted in a gamut of reactions and it was very difficult to decode the constant undercurrents that ran through relationships in the film and theatre world. In short, Sonia was aware that this world would never lack motives for crime.

Karan shook his head stubbornly. “I can’t imagine a single person from my group doing such a horrendous thing!”

“The best of people have a dark side to them,” Sonia reminded him. “By the way, why did you have two poison bottles in the end? I mean, don’t you think that the natural thing to do would’ve been for them to pour the poison from the same bottle, the way you did the juice?”

“Actually, the original idea had been one poison bottle. But Anup felt that it would be more poetic and melodramatic if the couple poured poison from their own separate bottles. It would feel like a real toast to their love and give a chance for their histrionics as they approached each other on the background of the sad song. More like a film It was a last-minute change, but I wouldn’t have agreed if I hadn’t liked the idea. Somehow it seemed less cliched.”

“Anup?” Sonia repeated with a thoughtful expression.

“What happens next?” Karan asked in a resigned tone, seemingly unaware of her reaction.

“The police have confiscated those bottles and the jar of juice. They’ll be able to deduce whether the poison was in the bottles or the juice. Then they will try to nail down the person who was responsible for it, who would have a motive to attempt to pull off such a blatant crime! It’s got to be someone closely associated with the play, who knew exactly what the ending was and how it would be enacted. Someone who would have ample opportunity to either replace the fake bottles with the real ones or pour poison in them or into the juice.”

A murmur of voices broke out on stage, where Inspector Divekar stood. A constable and a member of the play hastened to the Inspector and he followed them to the side of the stage. Sonia frowned. What was happening?

A crew member passed them and Karan hailed him.

“What’s up, Vijay?”

“They’ve made a discovery!”

“Discovery?” Sonia repeated, interested.

“He’ll tell you.” Vijay indicated the Inspector with a thumb, then walked briskly away.

At that very moment, Inspector Divekar signaled to Sonia. She rose at once.

“Excuse me, I’ll be back in a moment!” she told the Director.

Karan watched as she quickly joined Inspector Divekar. The Inspector began speaking instantly, showing her something. They bent their heads in a quick consultation. Sonia looked worried. Something twisted in Karan’s stomach. Now what was happening? Hadn’t they had enough trouble for a lifetime?

Sonia nodded as the Inspector handed a plastic bag to the constable. Then she retraced her steps towards Karan, a grim expression on her face.

“What is it?” Karan asked her fearfully.

She took the seat beside him in silence and inhaled a soft breath.

“The police have just discovered that the poison bottles that were supposed to be used in the play are still in their appointed place. They are apparently untouched!”

“What! But that’s impossible! Anup and Jaya used them to pour the poison,” he insisted.

“Obviously not!”

“What does this mean?” Karan looked bewildered.

Sonia was thoughtful. “It means that Anup and Jaya did not use the fake bottles kept for them in the wings. Most likely one of them brought the poison or even they both brought their own.”

“You mean… ?”

“If the property bottles were not used in the last scene, it means that no one replaced those fake bottles with real poison. Which also means that no one really tried to kill Anup and Jaya.”

“But then, who, how… ?”

“The conclusion is obvious, isn’t it?” Sonia spoke gently. “Either, one of them brought the two poison bottles or Anup and Jaya each brought their own. Regardless since neither of them touched the fake bottles, it looks like they deliberately poisoned each other, with or without each other’s consent!”

“‘What are you saying? They tried to kill each other? I don’t believe it!” Karan exclaimed. “We are all such good friends! Why in heavens should Jaya and Anup wish to kill each other? We’ve been working closely for months. We had a wonderful lunch this afternoon and the atmosphere was such fun, so tension-free. I don’t see why those two would take such drastic action. No, I’m sure there’s another explanation to it!”

“Assuming that the poison was not in the juice— can you explain what the entire auditorium witnessed with their own eyes? Jaya and Anup poured poison out of the bottles they had in their possession. And they collapsed onstage in front of all of us. And they did not get up again. In fact, I’m not sure the Doctors will be able to do much for them.”

Karan looked horrified. “You mean… ?”

Sonia was silent, as she allowed the significance of her remark to sink in. The Director clutched his head and burst into tears. His shoulders shook and Sonia felt tears rise in her eyes at such raw emotion.

“Get a grip, Karan,” she said finally. “Some things are beyond our control.”

“I loved her!” Karan mumbled as he fought to control the dam of emotions. “I loved Jaya a lot. But she never really looked at me. Until recently. She was changing towards me. I could sense that. Especially today, during Deepa and Anup’s lunch party. I truly did love her! Oh, why did this have to happen?” he wailed.

At the back of her mind, Sonia noticed that his admission of love for someone else evoked nothing but a sense of deep sympathy. She felt inordinately pleased about it. “Did you ever reveal your feelings to her?” she asked.

“Several times—not in so many words, but through actions, hints. She knew. And she wasn’t indifferent. I know that because she would come to me so naturally whenever she was upset or angry or emotional. Like this evening, just before the show, she was quite upset and she came straight to me. Vijay, the makeup man, told me that he had seen her go into Anup’s room and that she emerged very agitated.”

“Did she say what had upset her?”

“Just that she was so angry, she could kill someone!” He raised his head and stared at her, as if realizing the impact of what he’d just said. “She didn’t mean that literally, of course. She said that her world was collapsing around her. Her housekeeper had announced that she was leaving, someone had left an unpleasant message on her answering machine which was a real eye-opener, the milkman had refused to drop off the milk. She said she was tired of acting. She wanted to settle down! She was furious, and she swore that after today she would give up everything and concentrate entirely on me! Can you believe it? She said that to me. She knew that I cared and she said that she was ready to begin a new relationship with me. I was so happy to hear her say that! I had even planned a romantic dinner for just the two of us tonight!”

Sonia started. Dinner‘. The meal she had promised Mohnish had totally slipped from her mind. Distracted, she scanned the scattered groups for Mohnish and found him talking to Inspector Divekar. How could she ever treat him to dinner now? As if on cue, Mohnish turned and caught her eye. He flashed her a half smile, then resumed his conversation with the Inspector.

“Who was the woman who was kneeling beside Anup a while ago?” Sonia asked Karan.

“Deepa, Anup’s wife. Oh Lord! I forgot all about Deepa!”

“I think she’s gone on to the hospital, with her husband.”

“I need to ask the Inspector if we can pack up. I really must go to Deepa. She shouldn’t be alone at a time like this. What a horrible, horrible mess!” Karan thrust his head in his hands again.

Sonia covered his shoulders consolingly with her arm. He was right: it was a mess. What was supposed to be a rewarding night, a fruitful culmination of months of hard work, had instead turned into an unforgettable nightmare.

Inspector Divekar moved away and Mohnish turned to look for Sonia. He stiffened involuntarily as he saw Sonia bend close towards Karan and talk consolingly to him. A shard of pure jealousy pierced him. The hot night and the morbid atmosphere of the theatre suddenly seemed to stifle him and he longed to drag Sonia away from the place. Without permitting himself the time to analyse his reaction, he hastily moved towards the couple.

“Sonia?” he interrupted.

Surprised, she glanced up.

“Sorry to disturb you, but Inspector Divekar says that they’ve finished with us and we can all go home.”

“Right!” Sonia replied, but a flash of annoyance replaced the surprise on her face. “Karan, I’ll keep in touch.”

“Thanks, Sonia. I’m so thankful you were here tonight.”

“So am I.” Sonia smiled gently at him.

“But you have to eat something!” Mohnish argued.

“Dinner, after such a tragic evening? I couldn’t eat a morsel,” Sonia protested.

“Where’s your professionalism? You can’t allow cases to affect your metabolism.”

“Investigators are human, too,” she reminded lightly. “And this is not a case. I’m not hired and I’m not sure I want to be hired. The enacted last scene was as poignant as the actual reality and I’m not sure I can detach myself from the emotions! And lastly, please don’t talk like Jatin!”

“All right. But I’m going to stop by this restaurant.

It’s eleven and I’m famished. We’re going to eat something!“

Without heeding her protests, he parked outside a vegetarian restaurant and led his companion into the air-conditioned section.

“Are you going to order for yourself or should I?” he asked her briskly.

“I’ll order. An Idli Sambar, please,” Sonia told the waiter.

“Is that all? You’ll feel hungry in the middle of the night,” Mohnish warned, exasperated. But when she merely shrugged, he ordered a Fried Rice for himself. The waiter jotted down the order and left.

Mohnish considered Sonia with a keen eye. She was fidgeting with the napkin, avoiding looking at him. He sighed.

“Okay, tell me what’s the matter.”

“Nothing.”

“Obviously you are upset about something, Sonia. Spit it out!”

“All right, I’m a little annoyed. Why did you interrupt me when I was talking to Karan?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to deliberately disturb you. It was just that Inspector Divekar said we could leave and—”

“And you just marched up and conveyed the message,” Sonia completed coolly.

“Right.”

“Well, don’t do it again.”

Mohnish stared at her flushed face. He had seen Sonia angry on several occasions. But never had the anger been directed towards him. And perhaps she was justified this time—to an extent. He probably had intruded on her professional boundary.

“Are we having a quarrel?” he asked finally.

“I don’t like quarrels.”

“Neither do I.”

“Nor do I appreciate occasions which lead to them.”

“Point taken. Now can we eat?”

The waiter placed the food on the table and vanished discreetly. Mohnish watched silently as his companion toyed with the Idli Sambar. With a sigh, he replaced his spoon on his plate, folded his arms, and looked at Sonia squarely.

“Fine, I apologise, okay? It’s just that I saw you comforting Karan and I was worried that you’d get too involved emotionally and I…” He caught her look of amusement. “What?”

“You were worried?” She tipped her head and observed him.

“Of course I was. I was aware that Karan was a college friend and that put you in a very vulnerable position and—”

“You thought I would get too deeply drawn in to this case?” she confirmed. A pleasant tingling sensation was creeping over her body, at his concern.

“Yes. You would only end up getting upset and that’s exactly what I didn’t want. Now or ever!”

“Mohnish, if that was your only motive, your crime is excused.” Sonia’s eyes glinted with mischief.

“Does that mean I don’t get a sentence for the crime?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Maybe a light rap or two, so that you’re not tempted to take up emotional responsibility for me again? And, by the way, you were right: I don’t think this Idli Sambar is going to be sufficient for me. I’m hungry and I need another dish!”

A pleased smile lit up Mohnish’s face. “That’s good news I haven’t heard in a long time!”

“So much happened and you didn’t call me!” Jatin was indignant.

Sonia had arrived early that morning. She had a sleepless night. The voices of Anup and Jaya had droned on in her mind like a stuck record.

“There wasn’t time and to tell you the truth, it’s not our concern. We are not ”on the case.“ Besides, I’m positive Jaya and Anup did indeed kill each other.”

“You mean…!”

Sonia nodded gravely. “Inspector Divekar called. He said that the doctors couldn’t save either Anup or Jaya.”

“How terrible! But… but why! I thought you said that they were all good friends and going in and out of one another’s houses.”

“Yes, that’s what Karan told me. Actually, initially I thought that someone had replaced the fake property bottles with real poison. And that someone connected with the play had tried to murder Anup and Jaya. But then, one of the play members discovered the original bottles still in the same position, untouched. Anup and Jaya were supposed to slip into the wings and pick up the fake bottles and return to the stage. Which they did not do. Instead they used bottles that they had on them.

“Besides, look at the evidence. Pouring poison right in front of the audience and dying like that? As if they were really in love and couldn’t bear to live in this world anymore. True essence of romance, though melodramatically tragic if you were really looking for romance. But the motive, as of now, is out of human reach.”

“How awful!”

“Maybe that’s just the way they wanted it. The mystery shrouding their deaths would be spicy material for all and sundry. A fitting end to two exceptionally talented actors. Perhaps they planned it like that.”

“But you said that Jaya was upset about something right before the show. Couldn’t that have had something to do with the murders?”

“Yes, you could be right. But I have a gut feeling that this went deeper than a misunderstanding. Just think. Why would two co-stars or colleagues who are good friends wish to kill each other? And how could they carry out such a plan successfully? It has to be either extreme love or extreme hate, for them to take each other’s lives. If it’s the former, why give up everything if you’re in love and can enjoy a glorious future together? And if it’s extreme hate, what could’ve passed between them to take such terrible measures?”

“A huge fight, perhaps?”

“Possible.”

“What about the poison? Did the police confirm which bottle contained the poison?”

“The police checked the juice. There was no poison in it at all. The poison came from the bottles that both the actors possessed. It was cockroach poison. But not manufactured by the same company. Surely it’s too much of a coincidence if they both hadn’t planned it together. Although it’s possible that it could be an independent idea, of course…”

Jatin sighed. “The police have their work cut out for them.”

“They will have to perform the routine inquiry. Ask questions of the play members, concentrating on Karan and Deepa, who were closest to Anup and Jaya. And perhaps pay a visit to Jaya’s house and meet her housekeeper. They’ll try their best to find out what lay beneath this mutual murder. And if they don’t, the obvious will have to be accepted. That Jaya and Anup did indeed murder each other, for some strange, inexplicable personal reason. And the audience was their witness!”

“What about us?” Jatin asked. “Are we going to be involved?”

“From the fringes.” Sonia shrugged. “Uncle Jeevan has asked me to hang around and keep my ears open. In fact, we are to meet him at Anup’s house in half an hour. I believe that Karan will be there, too.”

“And we are not going to get actively involved?” Jatin asked again, a little incredulously.

“Nobody’s asked us!”

“But, Boss, we have to find out why they killed each other…”

“We don’t have to do anything. And Jatin, what about professionalism? About being hired and discussing money matters and taking an advance?” Sonia asked deliberately.

Jatin ignored the sweet sarcasm. “Come on, Boss, I can’t believe that you’re saying this! You’re always plunging into cases, without giving a single thought to my advice! Why now?”

“It’s time, I guess, to pay heed to your smart, worldly knowledge!” the detective responded airily.

“Okay, Boss, there are exceptions to the rule, that’s what you’ve always told me. And this is an exception.”

“You mean, even if there’s no client?”

“I guess, in the name of truth…” He looked abashed.

“And it’s all right if no one pays us?”

“Just this once, we pay ourselves!”

“You mean pay ourselves.” Sonia smiled. “Good, I believe that for the first time we’re actually agreeing in thought.”

It was the worst part of any investigation. Meeting the grieving relatives. Sonia was glad she was not going to do the questioning. One look at Deepa’s red, swollen eyes and her heart went out to the dead man’s wife. Deepa sat in her house, with photo frames of her husband and herself. Her eyes strayed to them as she answered the Inspector’s questions in a dead voice. Karan was seated beside her, holding her hand, permanent pain stamped on his face. Jatin hung back as Sonia perched in another chair against the bare wall, from which the photographs had previously hung.

“This is a shock for me. I had no idea they had planned anything like that. They did it together, didn’t they? There’s no other explanation for it, is there?” Deepa asked, searching the Inspector’s face.

Inspector Divekar shook his head. “I’m afraid that at the moment there’s not. Unless you can throw some light on the events leading to this incident.”

“There are no events! There was only the play! The play! There was nothing else on anyone’s mind! We were all totally immersed in this play, which was supposed to be one of the greatest hits in Marathi theatre. And now look at what’s happened!”

Karan tightened his grip on his friend’s hand.

“Tell them, Karan, that not one of us thought beyond the first show for the invitees!”

The Director nodded. “That’s true. We were all too engrossed in trying to make it a hit. I can’t see what could have resulted in something so drastic.”‘

“But something must have occurred. You do realize that?”

“I don’t understand.” Deepa looked puzzled.

“Look, I know this may come as a shock to you. But have you considered the possibility that the two— Jaya and your husband—may have been involved?”

“Involved?” Deepa repeated stupidly.

“Having an affair,” the Inspector persisted grimly.

“You must be mad! My husband and… and Jaya? What nonsense! They were excellent actors, so they could project that passion and… love onstage. But don’t get fooled by those emotions. They weren’t real. My husband loved me! How could you even dream of accusing him of having an affair! And with Jaya, of all the people! We were all friends. Close friends!”

She was so agitated that Karan murmured, “Calm down, calm down.”

“How can I calm down! These people are suggesting atrocious things!”

“We’re trying to find a reason for their murder, Madam,” Inspector Divekar interjected gravely.

“Well, that is not the reason! You’ll have to look for something else! Perhaps this lady who kept calling up Anup at odd hours. She fed him a lot of crap about a lot of things. He told you about her, didn’t he, Karan?”

“Yes, he did mention some woman who wanted to meet him and kept telling him stories against Jaya, which of course he didn’t believe. Or so he said,” Karan confirmed.

“Did he mention this woman’s name?”

“No, she never revealed her name. All she said was that she was from Jaya’s past. But she hasn’t called up lately, as far as I know,” Deepa replied, then continued. “But there’s also the angle of money. Anup did speak occasionally of his debts, which were piling, and Jaya…” She paused abruptly and stared at the solemn, sympathetic faces gazing at her. “You don’t believe me, do you? You think I’m hunting around for reasons, to avoid the real issue. You are convinced that Anup and Jaya…”

“There were rumours, Deepa.” Karan spoke quietly. “I didn’t want to tell you, because I thought, then, that they were just rumours. But now I’m not so sure. Jaya and Anup did spend a lot of time together, during rehearsals and otherwise. It’s not impossible!”

Deepa swept wild eyes from face to face as the thought registered. Then she covered her face with her hands and began sobbing. Karan flung a consoling arm around her. Inspector Divekar flashed Sonia a glance.

“No, it can’t be true! Anup could not have cheated on me! I gave up everything for him. My acting career, my family—he knew I loved him like no one has ever loved him. He cannot have betrayed me!” Deepa’s cries were heartrending.

An awkward silence ensued, filled with the sobs of the distraught woman. Gradually, her sobbing petered out. She seemed to appear calmer as she dabbed at her eyes with a blue handkerchief. At length, she gazed up at the Inspector. “But I still don’t understand. If they were in love and… and having an affair, why would they kill each other?”

“That is something we are going to find out,” Inspector Divekar replied. “I have just one last question for you, Deepaji. Have you any idea how or when Anup got hold of the cockroach poison?”

Deepa nodded. “I think I can make a guess. I had bought cockroach poison yesterday and left the bottle on one of the tables in the hall. Last night I was surprised to hear that the stage bottles were not used at all. But it did not strike me until this morning that perhaps Anup had used the bottle I had purchased. I searched for it this morning, but couldn’t find it anywhere. I even asked my maid if she’d picked it up, but she said she hadn’t seen it.”

“Thank you, Deepaji, I think that’s all for now. If we need to talk again, we’ll get in touch with you.” Inspector Divekar rose and the others followed his example. “Karan, can we talk outside?”

“Yes, of course.” Karan readily led the way outdoors, to where the Police Jeep and Sonia’s van were parked.

“About what you told Deepa—do you really believe that Anup and Jaya were having a serious affair?” the Inspector asked.

Karan nodded. “I didn’t want to believe it at first. I’d kept hearing the jokes being cracked behind their backs, how they went off together in separate cars but then met at a hotel in the city. But gradually, when I saw things for myself—little things, the intimate looks, the way their hands brushed, the manner in which they talked—I didn’t like it at all. Apart from the fact that I was… interested in Jaya myself, I was worried Deepa would get wind of it. She’s very sensitive and caring and she’s treated all of us like family the last few months. I didn’t want her to be hurt or even hear the rumours, specially if they were true. I knew it would break her heart. She loved Anup deeply. But if Anup and Jaya were having a fling—or worse, if it was serious between diem—it would destroy Deepa emotionally. But yes, Inspector, I do believe now that the two of them were having a passionate affair behind all our backs. It explains why Jaya insisted on Anup being present for all the sessions, including her dress rehearsals. It also explains why she was so upset just before the play. She was seen leaving his makeup room and she was very, very angry. She even told me that she would never work with Anup again. I thought then that they’d just had a friendly tiff. But obviously it was much more serious. Serious enough, perhaps, for her to take his life!”

“You think it’s possible? That Jaya could’ve intentionally poured poison into Anup’s glass?” Inspector Divekar questioned.

Karan shrugged. “I don’t really know. I loved Jaya but I wasn’t unaware of her faults. She did everything with passion. Her roles, her friendships, her needs, and her hates. She could hate with vehemence and she never forgave people. I remember once, we had a Spot Boy who ruined her dress. She was so unforgiving with the wretched boy that she made certain he was fired. And her maids! She never took back a maid who left her without notice. I know that you’re going to laugh at my examples. But I think they explain the kind of person she was. Unforgiving and passionate. Even vindictive.”

“Vindictive enough to take someone’s life?”

“If someone was important enough to her and he was planning to drop her? I’m beginning to wonder now.”

“Was Anup planning to drop her?”

“I couldn’t be sure. But during the lunch we had at Anup’s house, Deepa and Anup were very fondly talking about their ”project twins.“ They desperately wanted to have twins. There was absolutely no sign that Anup ever planned to leave his wife for Jaya. He seemed completely devoted to Deepa. In fact, when Deepa, who is an excellent actress, was mimicking all of us, Anup was totally in synch with her, supporting her. On the other hand, his behaviour towards Jaya that day seemed kind of cold and dismissive. Could that have been an indication of the reversal of his affections? But then, maybe I am wrong. Maybe it was all an act!”

“You could be right, of course,” Inspector Divekar agreed. “And what about Anup? Do you think he could be capable of murder?”

“I think Deepa would be the best person to answer that. I knew Anup as a friendly, talented actor, always willing to take special efforts on his role. He had his bouts of temper, of course. And he was uncontrollable when enraged. But capable of murder?” Karan shrugged.

“Had Anup loaned Jaya any money, do you think?”

“Not that I know of. And just now I heard Deepa mention Anup’s debt for the first time. So I’m quite in the dark about his money matters,” Karan replied.

“Right. Thank you, Karanji. We’ll get in touch with you if we need to talk again.” Inspector Divekar shook hands with Karan.

* * *

“Had she recently bought cockroach poison or asked you to buy a bottle?” Inspector Divekar asked.

Mrs. Wakil, Jaya’s housekeeper, shook her head. “Not that I know of. And actually, I always took care of these matters and she never interfered with my work. I can’t see Jayaji going out to the chemist store to buy cockroach poison. It just isn’t like her. But you never know about people, do you?”

Inspector Divekar, Sonia, and Jatin sat in the actress’s plush hall. The interior designing, apparently newly done, gave the hall a grand feel. Jaya had really begun to do well in her career, Sonia thought. Or had the money come from another source? Anup?

“How was she yesterday? I mean, what mood did she seem to be in?”

“She was upset about something,” Mrs. Wakil answered. “And not just yesterday. She’s been like that for a couple of days now. Snappy and waspy. She’s usually not like that. In fact, she’s rather polite and patient, as long as you don’t cross her. But I guess my decision to quit upset her more than I thought!”

“How long have you worked for Jayaji?” Inspector Divekar asked.

“For a year now. We got along quite well. But my husband took a job up north and I have to leave by the end of this month. Unfortunately, Jayaji did not take the news well.”

“Has anything unusual happened in the last few days? Anything that you can think of?”

The housekeeper shook her head. Then grinned. “Yes, there was something. Anupji did not turn up during the last couple of days!”

Inspector Divekar and Sonia flashed each other a glance.

“Anup was a frequent visitor here?”

“He came here every single day. She was crazy about him. I warned her that no good would come of this relationship. He was married and his wife was a wonderful woman. I’d met Deepaji a few times and I thought she was a very warm and caring person. It wasn’t right of Jayaji to break up their marriage. Because that’s what it would’ve come to if this tragic incident hadn’t occurred. I’d tried explaining to Jayaji, but she was so happy and so much in love that nothing I said would’ve seeped into her brain. And Anupji seemed totally smitten, too, so who was I to interfere? Then the last two days, things seemed to have cooled between them. And, suddenly, yesterday, just before she was leaving for the show, Jayaji came to me and said, ”Never trust men! The most loved one can stab you in the back!“ She seemed very upset and angry and I did not pursue the subject. I assumed, quite naturally, that she’d had a lovers’ tiff. Then she suddenly added, ”Oh, but it’s different with you. You’re married and have a child. Ultimately it’s always the legal status! Believe me, that comes from the horse’s mouth!“ And she left. That was the last I saw of her.”

Sudden tears welled up in Mrs. Wakil’s eyes. “Poor Jayaji. She wanted so much from life and she got so little…”

Sonia sat in her office, a hand absently caressing Nidhi, who sat cuddled on her lap. She felt a deep sadness and her heart felt heavy. Karan’s play was a disaster. His whole future had shattered around him and he had to start all over again with new actors. Not to mention the bad publicity, which would repel crowds from the play.

Poor Karan. Deepa’s tearstained, grief-struck face flashed before her eyes. Even Mrs. Wakil had been moved by the mutual killing. Why had they killed each other, when they were so much in love? What had they achieved? Sonia wondered. Then suddenly her hand stilled. She reframed the question carefully in her mind. What had the mutual murder achieved? A vague answer cropped up in her mind and she straightened. Could it be possible? No. She shook her head. No, it wasn’t possible. But even as she shook her head again to convince herself of the impossibility, the thought took firm hold on her mind. She had to look this up, she realized. She would find the answer in the horoscopes. But, with a sudden sense of deep frustration, she realized that she didn’t have any horoscopes. She hadn’t even asked Karan, who was her college friend, for his horoscope. But that was when she had decided to stay out of this affair. Not anymore! She couldn’t treat this case from the fringes. She would have to plunge in! But how could she get hold of the horoscopes without raising questions?

Jatin strode into the room and stopped, seeing the stricken expression on Sonia’s face.

“Boss, what’s the matter?” he asked, instantly concerned.

“Jatin, I’m an idiot! And I have a confession to make. All along, I’ve been too concerned about my own emotions! I didn’t want to get too involved in this case for a simple reason. You see, I had a crush on Karan when we were in college together. And I was too scared and unnecessarily concerned that I would revive the old feelings!”

“A crush on Karan! Did he reject you?” Jatin asked, with delayed indignation.

“Of course not! He never even knew I had a crush! But that’s beside the point.”

“What’s the point, then?”

“The point is that I’ve been allowing my personal persuasions to override my better judgement as a detective!”

“What does that mean?”

“That means that I should have left my apprehensions in the past and concentrated on the case in hand, even if Karan was involved in it. And because I allowed my past to control my better judgement, today I don’t have my horoscopes in hand, as I normally would have, to experiment with my theories!”

“Aw, come on, Boss, you’re only human, like we!” Jatin grinned. “And since you’ve been so honest about your failure, let me give you a little reward.”

Sonia stared in confusion at the look of triumph on her assistant’s face. What exactly was Jatin up to?

He held up a plastic bag and with a flourish drew out a sheaf of papers.

“Are those… ?” Sonia asked incredulously.

“Right, Boss. These are the horoscopes of Anup, Deepa, Karan, and Jaya!”

“I don’t believe this! You actually went and got them? You’re exceptional!”

“So are you, Boss. This is the least I can do as your assistant.”

“You’ll get a raise for this, Jatin. You deserve it!”

“Thank you, Boss. Now can I leave you to it?”

But Sonia had already aligned the horoscope papers on the table. With a pleased smile, Jatin turned to the CD player and selected a violin instrumental. He turned on the volume and hastily stepped out of the office, with a complete sense of accomplishment.

Sonia took up each horoscope, staring at them in contemplation. Jaya, Anup, Deepa, and Karan. Artistic and talented, all of them. But of what use was their art now? Anup and Jaya were dead and Karan and Deepa were tainted with the brush of murder!

Then, suddenly, she stiffened. My God, she thought, this certainly was a perfect mutual murder— the culmination of a poignant romance‘. As the classical violin began its journey, Sonia’s heart began thudding, responding to the music and the discovery in the horoscope that was staring her in the face. Passing remarks and comments that she’d overheard that day replayed in her head, over the rising tones of the violin. She perched on her chair, her mind revolving like a giant wheel. The image of a string instrument being tuned flashed in her mind. A musician tightened each string for the perfect tone. He continued to tighten the string, till it became taut, and yet produced that perfect musical sound that he desired. This was what lay under these murders, she realized. Tightening of bonds, till they suffocated.

Without warning, the last scene of the play rose before her eyes as clearly as if she were seeing it again. The beauty of it struck her afresh. So wonderfully enacted, such powerful emotions, more meaningful because they were real. Every look the two actors gave each other, every moment of shared love, anxiety, and pain was real. She could admit that freely now. Because she could read those sentiments and the passion in their horoscopes. The strong attraction between Jaya and Anup was obvious in their charts. And now she understood, as clearly as if someone had announced it, what the mutual killing had achieved! Poetic justice for love… As the violin began its soulful crescendo, tears gushed down Sonia’s cheeks. A spontaneous response to a beautifully moving and masterfully rendered musical piece…

Jatin popped his head in through the door. “Boss? Karan’s here!”

Astonishment flickered on Sonia’s face as she hastily brushed away the tears. “Send him in.”

The door opened and the Director stepped inside, a trifle hesitantly.

“Sonia, I hope I’m not intruding on your time?”

“Not at all. Come right in and take a seat.” She gestured to a chair. “What brings you here?”

Lines of strain etched on his face did little to mar Karan’s good looks. His discomfort was obvious as he seated himself opposite her.

“I must talk to you. You’re the only one who would understand.”

“Understand what?” Her curiosity was at its peak. Apart from the mixed reaction to the presence of Karan—a symbol of her carefree younger days—in her office, she managed to keep her piqued interest in check.

“I’ve been thinking a lot. And I’m convinced that we are barking up the wrong tree. I mean, the money angle and hatred. The more I think of it, the more I realize that Anup and Jaya really and truly loved each other. But they had some insurmountable obstacles. That’s why they conspired a combined death, to overcome their irresolvable problems. And as a kind of poetic culmination to their love.”

Sonia sucked in a quick breath. The horoscopes she had read minutes before were still fresh in her mind.

“And I believe that we should accept that fact and let go,” Karan continued. “Let go and allow their souls to rest in peace.”

“You mean stop investigating the case?” she confirmed.

The Director nodded.

“And you are prepared to live in ignorance as to what really happened, and why, on the first night of your play?” she asked, studying his face closely.

“We have already agreed that Anup and Jaya killed each other. All we’re trying to do now is unearth the motive behind it. I believe that they wished the reason to remain anonymous, otherwise they would surely have left a note of explanation. I admit that I am not immune to curiosity which the lack of details will invariably arouse, but that will have to take a backseat for a bigger cause. We have to respect their silence.”

“I’m surprised at your willingness to let go and that you actually spelled out your opinion,” Sonia admitted.

“I had this gut instinct that you would understand. You would understand the extraordinary cravings and urges of creative people and their need to give vent to them in the strangest of manners.” He was regarding her with an unswerving, intent look.

For a fleeting moment, the expression in his eyes reminded her of Mohnish.

She quickly averted her gaze. Then a faint smile curved her lips. “I’m glad you came here and voiced your innermost thoughts. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” he said simply.

“The constables have been asked to lift guard from Jaya’s and your house. They’ve called off the case,” Karan remarked.

Beside him on the sofa, Deepa was replacing photos in the album. Now she glanced at him. Her face was expressionless.

“The police are convinced that Anup and Jaya were madly in love and couldn’t live without each other,” he continued.

Deepa winced and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry, but the unquestionable has to emerge as the ultimate truth. Anup and Jaya chose to depart together. You must accept it and forgive them, Deepa. You must forgive him!”

Deepa opened her eyes. There were tears in them. “Can you forgive Jaya? You loved her, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did. But it was not meant to be. Jaya loved Anup too much to ever really be mine,” Karan murmured sadly.

“And now they’re gone. I don’t understand this. Why didn’t he simply tell me that he loved her so much? Why didn’t he reveal his true feelings to me? I would have released him. It was so stupid to keep me in the dark and take each other’s lives!”

“Perhaps he loved you too much as well? I know you don’t quite believe that at present. But I do. I think, in his own way, Anup did have deep feelings for you. But sometimes passion overrides love and this is how it ends up!” Karan sighed. “Anyway, I want you to know that I’m here for you, whenever you need me.”

He leaned forward and pressed her hand.

Deepa smiled faintly. “Thank you. I know I can depend on you.”

“Perhaps you can even think of taking up acting again? Gradually, of course.”

Deepa nodded. “I may.”

Karan rose and gave Deepa a hug. “Always remember I am a phone call away,” he said solemnly.

She watched him leave and her heart felt as if it would burst! Poor Karan. Poor us, she thought wearily. Forgive Anup for what he had done? For his infidelity? For the travesty of their marriage? For betraying her trust and her love? She wondered. Perhaps one day her undying love for him would heal the deep gash in her heart.

The doorbell rang and Mrs. Wakil opened the door.

“Oh, Namaste, Deepaji!” The housekeeper looked surprised. “Do come in. I’m just getting the house cleaned up. Some of Jayaji’s relatives are coming down from Kolkata.”

“Thank you. I won’t take your time. Jaya had some of my things in her office. Can I go collect them?” Deepa asked.

“Sure! Go ahead, you know the way.”

Deepa nodded and immediately turned to the room on her left. It was Jaya’s private office, with a separate phone line. She had been here several times with Karan and Anup for script discussions. She opened the door and stepped in. The curtains were drawn, blocking the afternoon light and the heat. The office was cool, spick-and-span, with the table clean and sparkling. Yet Jaya’s presence seemed to fill the room. Even her perfume lingered in the air.

Deepa headed to the phone and stared at it contemplatively. Hesitating just slightly, she switched on the answering machine.

“Hello, Jaya, this is Karan. Meet you at sharp five.”

“Jaya, this is Vijay, don’t forget to get your green chunni.”

“Hello, it’s me, Deepa. I’ve called to give you some wonderful news. I’m pregnant! Our ”project twins’ has finally worked! Anup and I are so happy! But I know that you might be upset. Please, don’t get upset. Anup was never really serious about you. I’m his wife, after all, and that matters. He’ll pay you for your time, though. He’s always done that. And, rest assured, you’ll always remain our friend. Goodbye.“

The answering machine clicked off. Deepa stared at the machine and laughter bubbled inside her. What fools they had been! Walked straight into her trap! Well, serve them right! Especially Anup. Did he really think that he would get away with it?

She put out her hand to erase the message, when another hand grasped hers firmly. Startled, Deepa gasped.

“Good speech. I’d keep that as a memory of good acting!” Sonia said quietly.

Deepa whirled around to face Inspector Divekar, Sonia, and Jatin.

“What’s happening here!” Deepa exclaimed.

Mrs. Wakil slipped into the office with a grim expression on her face. She was followed by a very stunned Karan.

“You’re being arrested for masterminding the murder of Anup and Jaya,” Inspector Divekar announced gravely.

Deepa turned to Karan, flashing him a desperate, entreating look. But the contemptuous expression in his eyes turned her heart to stone. Without a word, he walked out of the room.

“You can’t arrest me, you can’t prove anything!” she cried.

“Sure we can! We have the handkerchief—your blue-checked handkerchief—which you used to pass the bottle of poison to Jaya and which you refused to acknowledge as yours when Vijay tried to give it to you. Remember?” Sonia replied. “That kerchief still has the smell of poison on it from the spilled liquid. Besides, you have a matching kerchief in your house at the moment! And if that’s not enough, we can easily trace the shop Jaya’s bottle of poison came from. I’m sure the chemist will remember the one-time, beautiful stage actress who bought it, even if her head was heavily draped in a dupatta.”

Deepa’s eyes widened in shock. Then, as realizedon sank in, she sighed and slumped into a chair.

“It was a very clever plan, Deepa. Perhaps too clever,” Sonia remarked. “Want to tell us about it?”

“It was brilliant, wasn’t it?” Deepa took a deep breath. “And not at all easy to plan and enact. I knew from the first moment that Anup was attracted to Jaya. And it filled me with rage. He had no right to even look at another woman. I was crazy about him. I had made too many sacrifices to be made a fool of. Initially, I thought it was a passing fancy and that he would get over it. But instead it got more and more serious, till one day I learned that they were meeting at her house and at a hotel. That he was contemplating leaving me, ending our marriage. That was the last straw. I had to do something. Not just to stop their affair, but to teach them a lesson. By getting rid of both of them.

“I decided that I wouldn’t actually kill them with my own hands. They would kill each other, like in the play. I would use them like clay pawns, moulding and planning their moves as per my wishes. I deliberately urged Karan to change the end—through Anup, of course. Then I embarked on the most enjoyable process of creating trouble between the two of them. I kept telephoning Anup, pretending to be someone from Jaya’s past and warning him repeatedly about that terrible woman. My creativity was at its best as I wove a shady background for Jaya. The seed of doubt was sown. Then came my masterpiece. On the day of the play, I called up Anup as Jaya. I declared ruthlessly that it was all over and that I was pregnant. I even blackmailed him, demanding that he pay a price for my silence, or else I would spill the truth to his wife! Anup reacted exactly as I thought he would. He believed that he’d been tricked by the woman he loved. Not only did his ego take a tumble, but his rage was stirred. He had a dangerous temper and I stoked it to a roaring fire. I had already kept a bottle of cockroach poison handy. He behaved predictably. When the poison bottle vanished, I knew that success was close.

“Meanwhile, I was also manipulating Jaya, working on her insecurities, making her feel like a fool. During lunch that day, I was the perfect, doting wife and Anup the ideal husband. I deliberately broached the subject of our ”project twins,“ which did the trick of ruffling Jaya. But I knew that I could not rely on the upheaval of her emotions for killing Anup. It was not possible to control Jaya’s actions the way I had done with Anup’s. Nor could I rely on her to react with a killing anger. So I decided to use her. I left a message on Jaya’s answering machine, informing her that I was pregnant and that Anup would pay her for her services. That really upset her. She was convinced that Anup had indeed exploited her and it confused her. That was all I needed. I hoped that this would result in a massive fight, which would strengthen his resolve to get rid of her.

“Trying to get rid of him was more tricky, but the solution turned out to be quite simple actually. Hand Jaya real poison when the moment arrived. The last scene was so touching, though not a soul knew, except for Anup and me, that it would lead to tragedy. And not even Anup knew that this was indeed the last moment of his life! When Jaya edged momentarily into the wings for the bottle of poison, I quickly handed her the real one, carefully holding it with my kerchief, avoiding leaving my fingerprints on the bottle. Then I hastily tucked the kerchief into my purse, but unfortunately it fell out. It was only when Vijay showed it to me that I realized that I’d dropped the kerchief. I was confused, so I just flatly denied it was mine. Perhaps I should not have lied.”

“Not that that would’ve helped much. Sooner or later, we would’ve arrived at the conclusion that the bottle had been handled with gloves and that there were no prints on it other than Jaya’s. And then Vijay would’ve remembered the kerchief he tried to return to you,” Sonia commented.

“Yes, I guess you’re right…”

“Was it worth it, do you think?” Sonia asked softly.

Deepa looked up and brazenly challenged the question in the detective’s eyes. “Yes. Every single minute of it.”

Inspector Divekar flashed Sonia an affectionate look. “You get better and better by the day, beti” he remarked.

Sonia took a sip of the chai and smiled at him. “Uncle, you played a major role in all this. I just added the finishing touches!”

“Stop fishing for compliments!” Mohnish said. “And start telling me, when and how did this mutual murder turn into a masterminded double murder!”

“Yes, Boss, I’d like to hear it, too!” Jatin’s admiration shone in his eyes.

“Okay.” Sonia shrugged, a little abashed. “We all know exactly what happened in the auditorium. Both Anup and Jaya poured out poison from the bottles and killed each other. They were in love and the whole world knew about it. Their horoscopes also corroborated this truth. Anup and Jaya were strongly attracted to each other, and if they hadn’t died, they would probably have enjoyed a wonderful life together. But they had died. Why? Why had they killed each other when there was so much going for them? Anup’s horoscope revealed complex combinations. That he would commit a crime was evident—but strangely, his horoscope also belonged to a victim. I found it very baffling.

“Then I took a closer look at Deepa’s horoscope. Sun and Saturn together in the second house with Capricorn, Ketu in her seventh house and Mars aspecting the seventh house, Moon with Harshal—all hinted at a stormy love marriage which wouldn’t have a happy ending. In fact, Deepa’s horoscope definitely showed the dramatic turns her marital life would take. But what was very interesting and eye-opening were all the planets in her first house. With Sagittarius in the ascendant, a number of planets were in conjunction—Moon, Harshal, Neptune, Rahu, Venus, and Mercury. A very unique combination. Mercury in the ascendant sign revealed her extreme fury; Rahu indicated plotting and scheming with an avenging attitude, going to any extent—using any path, any method—however melodramatic, to accomplish her goal! In short, Deepa seemed to be a person with dangerous streaks of jealousy, possessiveness, and cunning, with an ungovernable temper. Anup’s horoscope was of little significance compared to Deepa’s dynamite of a horoscope.

“It worried me. And that’s when I began to have my real doubt about Deepa. How was it that the whole world was aware of the affair her husband was having with his co-star and yet Deepa hadn’t learnt about it— an astute former actress like her, who made it a point to be connected with the play from start to end? That was my first question. The second problem was that both Anup and Jaya died of cockroach poison. Too much of a coincidence—unless, of course, they really did conspire to kill each other. But they were in love, they had great careers and a wonderful future ahead of them. Why would they opt for death? All along, I repeatedly asked myself, what had these murders achieved? And then the answer came to me, plain and clear. Actually, it was Mrs. Wakil who gave me the clue. She remarked, in passing, that if these murders hadn’t happened, Deepa and Anup’s marriage would surely have ended! And that was the answer to my question! These two deaths had prevented Deepa’s marriage from ending—I mean in the legal sense. They prevented Anup from leaving Deepa for Jaya! And there was only one person who seemed to benefit from those murders. Deepa!

“The sauciness, the boldness of the act, the nerve, and the cunning—they proved that the real murder scene was scripted by an insider, someone who knew every nook and cranny of the play. A beautifully masterminded murder by someone who thrived on the weaknesses of the two victims. I was convinced that Deepa was responsible for Anup’s and Jaya’s deaths. She certainly had the motive for murder and her horoscope substantiated the motive. I set about proving my theories.

“My first hurdle was, how had she achieved this? How could she have killed Anup and Jaya, in front of the whole audience? It was a brain-teaser and the answer eluded me for a while. Obviously, she couldn’t possibly do it herself. So how had she pulled off such perfect scheming and timing? I put myself in her shoes and began wondering. How would I go about it? How does one encourage two people in love to go at loggerheads with each other? To turn someone so much against a person that he would be roused enough to kill? I realized that I would first have to initiate a rift between the two lovers. And how would I do that? By creating situations that would poison their minds against each other. And that’s exactly what Deepa had done, I realized. Her personal script for the final act had begun long before the actual show. She had played on Anup’s and Jaya’s weaknesses and insecurities. She created pits of doubt in their minds—in short, she’d provoked them enough to make each wish the other dead. She planted the idea in their minds to use the play to kill the other. In other words, she masterminded the whole murder excellently, using Jaya and Anup as puppets. Karan once mentioned that Deepa was an excellent mimic and could imitate anyone perfectly. She was also an excellent actress. I realized that Deepa must have done something to uproot Jaya from Anup’s heart, so much so that in his anger he had grasped the poison bottle on her hall table and used it. That much was clear. Had Deepa pretended to be Jaya at some point? Said or done something that had set him dead against his lover? It was worth thinking about, though I knew we would never have proof of it. But what about Jaya, how had Deepa influenced the actress? It was one thing to manipulate your husband, whom you knew intimately and who was within reach. But it is quite another to stage-manage someone beyond your control. And then I recalled things. How Vijay had wanted to return Deepa’s kerchief to her while she was on her way to the hospital and how she had refused to acknowledge it as hers. I had seen a similar handkerchief in her hands, when she was being questioned at her house. Also, according to Karan, Jaya had been very upset by a number of things just before the show. One of them was a message on her answering machine. And Mrs. Wakil had told us how Jaya had made that remark about legal status from the horse’s mouth. Which horse’s mouth was that? And suddenly it all fell into place. It struck me that Deepa need not have manipulated Jaya as she did Anup, as I had assumed earlier. She had simply used Jaya as an instrument to kill Anup. By handing the real bottle of poison instead of the fake one to the unsuspecting actress!”

“My God! What a plan!” Mohnish remarked, amazed.

“Yes, a well-scripted and enacted plot of an obsessed mind,” Sonia agreed. “But it was all conjecture on my part, without a foundation of solid proof. And that became the major difficulty—proving it all. The only and last chance we had was the message on Jaya’s answering machine. Harmless though it appeared on the face of it, it would indisputably prove that Deepa was a liar, since she was not really pregnant! I guessed that she would try to erase the message at the first possible chance. I was pretty sure that she hadn’t done so already, since the constables were on constant guard outside the house. So I asked Karan to inform her that the case was off and that we were convinced that Anup and Jaya had indeed killed each other. Deepa was satisfied. Perhaps she even enjoyed a good private laugh at our expense. She instantly seized the opportunity of going over to Jaya’s house. Unfortunately for her, her near-perfect master plan fell to pieces at that point.”

“Excellent!” Inspector Divekar exclaimed.

“But what exactly did Anup have in mind? He surely did not expect to get away with murder?” Jatin asked.

“I’m not sure, but I think he would’ve pocketed the fake bottle and declared that the bottle which contained the deadly poison was standing on the stool ready for use, placed there by the stage manager. He would have disclaimed any knowledge of how the poison had got into the bottle. And it could’ve worked, for a lack of substantial motive. After all, why would he kill a colleague he got along famously with?”

“The things people do for love!” Inspector Divekar shook his head.

“You know what saddens me the most?” Sonia asked. “Deepa’s hard-hearted remorselessness. Her absolute belief in her actions. Not a shred of regret, no guilt. She truly feels she did the right thing. That conviction is the most dangerous quality in a person, certifying her as a real criminal.”

“I feel sorry for poor Jaya. Caught in a crossfire— between a jealous lover and a murderous wife! Jealousy sure is man’s biggest enemy!” Mohnish sighed.

“And absence from the police station will be mine if I don’t return to headquarters soon!” Inspector Divekar grinned. “Good work, Sonia. Keep it up and see you later.”

He lifted his police cap from the table and with a wave strode out of the room.

Jatin picked up his chai cup. “Boss, aren’t you happy we didn’t remain on the fringes?”

“I am,” Sonia accepted.

“And that you were willing to let go of the past for the present? You know what I mean, Karan—”

She blushed. “All right, Jatin, you’re dismissed for the day!”

“If you say so. But, Boss—don’t you think Karan resembles Mohnish a lot? The same face and even the same thick straight hair with the flick!” Her assistant winked at her suggestively, swallowed his tea, and buzzed out of the room.

Mohnish glanced at Sonia and raised an eyebrow. “What was all that about?”

“Just Jatin and his fancy ideas!” She shrugged.

“Not the whole truth, Boss.” Her assistant had popped his head in.

Sonia made a face. “”Goodbye, Jatin. Isn’t Naina waiting for you?“

Jatin guffawed and shut the door.

“Who’s Naina?” Mohnish looked bewildered.

“Oh, that, I can very truthfully say, is the beginning of a brand-new love story!” Sonia grinned.

4

Cheating Destiny

The July rain lashed against the Stellar Investigations Office, and the windows shut with a bang. Nidhi jumped, startled. She had eaten her fish and was cuddled up on the pillows. The rain poured on the streets, like the sizzling of a frying pan. The cat meowed and Sonia glanced up momentarily from the piece of paper she was studying.

“It’s all right, sweetie. I’m here with you.” She spoke soothingly and moved to the cat, to stroke a comforting hand over her silky head.

Nidhi immediately closed her eyes, stretched her neck, and allowed her mistress to scratch her under her ears and her collar.

“What do you make of it, Boss?” Jatin demanded, entering the room.

Sonia gave Nidhi a final stroke, then returned to the table and took the piece of paper in her hand. “Cut the Astrology trash!” stared back at her, rather insolently.

Horoscope of Janavi

II SHREE II

CHEATING DESTINY—HOROSCOPE OF JANAVI

Born on 20th January, 6.30 p.m.

Zodiac Sign—Scorpio

Ascendant—Cancer

Mars and Rahu in Cancer, in the 1st House

Harshal in Leo, in the 2nd House

Neptune in Libra, in the 4th House

Moon and Venus in Scorpio, in the 5th House

Mercury, Saturn, Ketu and Sun in Capricorn,

in the 7th House

Jupiter in Aquarius, in the 8th House

“I still think this is a rather cheap expression of rivalry,” she answered dismissively.

“But, Boss, this is the second note. Don’t you think we should do something about it?” her assistant asked, with a frown. “I mean, you can’t allow some stupid person to keep sending us threatening notes.”

“I think it’s too soon to give it so much importance,” Sonia remarked, a little stubbornly.

“To give what so much importance?” Mohnish interrupted, as he strode into the room. He moved one hand carelessly through his thick hair, which glistened with raindrops. The other held three freshly roasted bhuttas—maize corncobs—with a mixture of lime, red chili, and salt rubbed on them. The smell of the roasted bhuttas filled the room as he handed one to each. “To Sonia and Jatin. To celebrate the beautiful monsoons!”

“Thanks!” the other two exclaimed and Nidhi raised her head to sniff what had arrived. Sonia broke off a few grains from the cob and dropped them before her. She examined them, took a grain into her mouth, and munched it reflectively.

“She likes it!” Sonia laughed. “Which means these bhuttas are good!”

“I’m glad I got the approval from the highest quarters!” Mohnish grinned.

The rain thrashed outside, as the bhuttas continued to be devoured.

“Hmm… delicious,” Sonia murmured appreciatively, and Mohnish observed her with a great deal of interest. Her absorption in the bhuttas was fascinating.

“Take a look at this.” Jatin interrupted Mohnish’s observations. “Boss doesn’t seem to think it the right time to react to this nonsense!” He passed the journalist the slip of paper as he munched on his corncob.

“Relax, Jatin. There’s really nothing to get panicky about,” Sonia admonished as Mohnish took the slip of paper and read it.

“And there was another one before this. It categorically said, ”Get lost with your Astrology!“” Jatin informed Mohnish indignantly. “Now, tell me what you think of it.”

“I don’t think this should be taken lightly,” Mohnish agreed instantly.

“I can’t believe you guys!” Sonia exclaimed. “What’s so terrible about two trashy notes sent by some demented mind?”

“The demented mind could be trouble if you’re not careful,” Mohnish remarked.

“But don’t you know that barking dogs don’t bite?”

“Sure, but this is a human being—an unpredictable human mind which belongs to someone callous enough to send two crude threats to a noted detective. Doesn’t that say something to you?”

“Sure. I’m not saying I’m not going to act on it. I will, but there’s no urgency about it,” Sonia conceded.

“Boss, do you want that person to attack you before you take action?”

“Now, Jatin, don’t let your imagination run away with you,” Sonia scolded lightly. She took a last bite of the corn from the cob and sighed. “Okay, I’ll think about it. Period.”

Mohnish shrugged and returned the note to Sonia, who dropped it into her drawer. Jatin shook his head and collected the remains of the cobs.

“I’m going to keep these for the cows,” he announced, and walked out of the room. But he returned immediately. “Boss, your dad’s here with a friend! They’re outside talking!”

“My dad!” Sonia couldn’t be more amazed. “Send them in.”

She rose, smacking her bhutta-eating lips. The tangy, spicy taste lingered deliciously in her mouth. Jatin led Mr. Samarth in, the cornless bhuttas now discreetly hidden behind his back. Sonia’s father, a tall, athletically fit figure in a crisp white shirt and blue trousers, strode in. A single lock of grey streaked through his thick black hair.

“Hello, Sonia dear!” He smiled. “Thought I’d give you a surprise!”

“Sure, Dad.” Sonia returned the smile, but her gaze travelled to the man who had followed her father inside with slow, tentative steps.

“Hello, Mohnish, good to see you again.” Mr. Samarth shook hands with the Journalist. “Meet a friend of mine, Sonia. This is Dr. Bhatti—a noted scientist. He’s retired now.”

Both Sonia and Mohnish smiled in acknowledgement at the imposing guest. Dr. Bhatti had a serious, square face with a prominent jawline and a straight, sharp nose. His head was swathed in a bottle-green turban. Intelligence radiated from his face, as deep black eyes smiled at Sonia, from behind square steel-rimmed glasses.

“I’ve been hearing so much about you from your father and so many others, I simply wanted to meet with you and see your setup. Crime and Astrology. Very interesting indeed!” Dr. Bhatti swept curious eyes over the room.

He reminded Sonia of the first time Mohnish had walked into the office, an apprising, almost arrogant look on his face. Of course, that had been a year ago. Mohnish was a different person now.

“Do sit down. Can I offer you something?”

“Oh no, dear, we were just passing by and thought we’d stop to satiate Bhatti’s curiosity. He wanted to see it to believe it. He’s a scientist after all!” Mr. Samarth chuckled.

“I’m glad we did,” Bhatti accepted. “But one day, I’d like to come and discuss the scientific viewpoint to your crime-solving solution.”

Sonia’s heart sank. She really wasn’t into trying to prove the worth of Astrology, certainly not to scientists.

But she needn’t have worried, because Dr. Bhatti added immediately, “Don’t think I’m a disbeliever of Astrology. It’s only the angles that differ.”

“Maybe one day, we will.” Sonia smiled.

“You are going for the wedding, to Mumbai, tomorrow, aren’t you, dear?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Good. We’ll talk at home. Goodbye, Mohnish. And Jatin.”

Mr. Samarth led his friend out of the office and Sonia expelled a soft sigh of relief. Mohnish glanced at her.

“Looks like a very influential man,” he commented.

“Wonder what he really came to see.”

“Perhaps he thought you would have almanacs hanging for decorations and horoscopes as wall pieces?”

Sonia grimaced. “Can’t argue that. I never seem to be getting over this science versus Astrology issue.”

“Which is not your concern anyway. Each to his own belief.”

“Absolutely.” Sonia was glad Mohnish shared her viewpoint. He’d come a long way from the curious disbeliever he had been only a year ago.

Jatin’s mobile trilled. One look at the number and he blushed. He quickly excused himself and left the room.

“Naina,” Sonia told Mohnish. “The new love of Jatin’s life.”

“Oh, you mean the girl of his dreams. Have you met her?”

“Not yet, but Jatin is most keen on introducing us. I’ve no idea when that lucky day is!”

“Well, I better get going. Tomorrow’s Sunday. Any special plans?”

Sonia nodded. “I’m going to Mumbai by train— by the Deccan Queen, to attend a cousin’s wedding. Will return the same evening. So I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Enjoy your trip.”

“I will. And thanks for the bhuttas.”

“My pleasure, as always.” He looked at her and smiled warmly. Then he left.

Sonia realised that feeling Mohnish’s presence even after his absence was growing into a pleasant habit. And she wasn’t sure if she approved of it.

Sonia stood on platform No. 1 of the Pune Railway Station. The big old wall clock showed the time as six forty-five in the morning. The departure time was ten minutes past seven and she liked to be at the station with plenty of time to spare. Catching trains always made her uneasy. She dreamt constantly of missing them and was relieved only when she arrived well in advance. Normally she would’ve driven down to Mumbai, but her parents had absolutely refused to allow her, all alone in her secondhand van, to risk the wet, water-clogged roads of Mumbai.

Dressed in jeans and a peach-coloured sleeveless top, she wore a rain jacket draped over her shoulders. The rains continued to flood the city, falling ceaselessly. Passengers rushed to the shelter of the station, their colourful umbrellas dripping and forming pools of water on the platform. Clutching her handbag, and an overnight bag in which she carried the sari and jewellery for the wedding, Sonia approached a stall and bought The Times of India. She paid the vendor and turned, almost barrelling into Jatin!

“Good morning, Boss!”

“Jatin! What are you doing here?”

He smiled, looking a little abashed. His hair was ruffled and his clothes disarranged, as if he had awoken in haste.

“That’s the latest style, Boss,” he said hastily, as he saw her eyeing his shirt.

“Half tucked out?”

“Half tucked in! And anyway, Naina likes it.”

Before she could open her mouth to comment, Jatin dragged a girl forward.

“Boss, this is Naina. I wanted you to meet her.”

“Oh!” Sonia turned to face the newcomer and stared.

Going by Jatin’s lover-like ramblings of how pretty his girl-friend was, Sonia had mentally braced herself to make allowances. But nothing had prepared her for this. Naina was of medium height with a slightly curvaceous figure. But her face was one of the loveliest Sonia had ever seen. Soft, rosy complexion; pink lips and almond-shaped black eyes; a waist-length, shiny mane of hair; and most important, an enchanting, shy smile. Jatin had not exaggerated. She truly looked like an angel. And this angel loved Jatin!

Jatin awaited Sonia’s reaction with bated breath. He looked young and innocent with his tousled, cropped hair, and he was, in his own boyish way, rather attractive. They suited each other quite well, Sonia decided.

“Hello, Naina!” she greeted brightly. “Why in heavens did Jatin drag you to the station this early?”

Naina’s smile broadened as she flashed an affectionate glance in Jatin’s direction. “He’s so impulsive.” She spoke in a lovely voice which matched her face. “He insisted that I had to meet you right away.”

“Actually, I checked my horoscope in the newspaper and the reading said that it was an ideal day to create good impressions,” Jatin added by way of explanation. “So I decided that I wouldn’t waste any more time and get done with it—I mean, get done with the introductions. I would really hate it if you disapproved of Naina, Boss, so I’ve been unfairly postponing the introduction. But not anymore. Boss, your opinion matters immensely to me. You do know that, don’t you?”

Sonia was speechless. Her assistant amazed her. “Thank you, Jatin,” she managed.

The blue-and-white train hooted. The Deccan Queen loudly announced its arrival as it entered the platform and its passengers readied to get onto the train.

“I’m glad we finally met, Naina. I know we can’t talk now, but we will soon.” Sonia flashed both of them a warm smile.

“There’s something else, Boss. You’ll be able to read it in the Pune supplement of the paper.” He indicated the newspaper in her hands. “There’s a small bit of news about some ghostly figure in white being spotted around our office a couple of days ago. Some of the area residents witnessed this ‘ghost’ when they returned late from a party. The figure ran out of the office premises and straight into their path, almost colliding with their vehicle, and then it vanished.”

“Are you sure it’s our building?”

“It definitely says the Stellar Investigations Office. We’re quite famous now, Boss,” he smirked. “Everyone knows our office. But what do you think of it? Is there really a ghost lurking in our building?”

“Of course not! But we’ll have to look into the matter. We’ll talk about it when I return, okay? I really must go now. Goodbye, Naina.”

“Bye, Soniaji. It was a pleasure meeting you,” the girl responded with a beautiful smile.

“Boss, do you want me to find your seat or carry your luggage?” Jatin offered.

“I want you both to go home and continue your Sunday beauty sleep. Go on. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sonia waved to the happy young couple, scooped up her bag, and moved towards her bogey compartment.

The wedding had gone off well, she thought, as the train chugged out of Dadar Station and headed out of Mumbai. Except for the rain, which had created relentless hurdles from the moment she had arrived in Mumbai, she’d had a good time, despite the many problems. The train had halted way out of the station, as water had flooded over the tracks and the passengers had to descend prematurely at a relatively dry spot. No taxiwala had agreed to head towards Bandra—a suburb in Mumbai—since even the buses had been swept half underwater. Finally she managed to convince a brave soul to accept her offer of paying double the taxi fare. But halfway to Bandra, water had seeped into the taxi almost up to her waist and she had experienced a moment of extreme panic. At last, drenched and bedraggled, she had landed at her Aunt’s doorstep and had scrubbed herself for an hour in the bath!

Fortunately, the rest of her visit passed uneventfully. But Sonia felt immense relief when she was safely in the return train to Pune. For all the opportunities in Mumbai, she would never ever leave good old Pune, she decided.

She settled comfortably in her cushioned seat and watched the high-rise buildings of Mumbai vanish and lush fields replace the backwaters of the creeks. The rain slithered and sizzled, draping the rich green scenery with a glossy sheen. Hills rose gently on one side and rice fields stretched out on the other. Sonia sighed with pleasure. It was breathtaking. Mumbai-Pune travel during the monsoons was always a picturesque affair.

As the movement of the train lulled her senses, she wondered what Mohnish was doing at that moment. Working on some documentary, most probably. Considering she had associated so closely with him this past year and a half, it was amazing how little she actually knew about his whereabouts and his doings. She really ought to do some background research on him. Before she found herself too deeply linked—at least in thought—to him!

Automatically, as a sequel to that notion, her imagination conjured a pair of blue-green eyes. The Owl. What must he be doing now? With his propensity for international thefts, he must undoubtedly be hatching a plan to steal more prized jewels in some corner of the world. Idly, she considered when she would meet with him again, if she ever did. Would he ever dare try to contact her? Apart from the birthday card and the email he had sent her, The Owl had made no further attempt to approach her. Which was perfectly fine with her. If she hadn’t had a score to settle, she would have never afforded the crook another thought. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, she admitted hastily. She already had the sneaking suspicion that he had made a substantial, almost impressive dent in her carefully constructed wall of indifference for him.

Sonia allowed her eye to casually travel over the nearly-empty bogey. On a Sunday evening, she was not surprised there were only six people sitting scattered in the bogey. Her attention was caught by the man seated opposite her, who was candidly observing her with a great deal of interest. He seemed vaguely familiar. Had she met him before? Sonia racked her brain for a hint.

The stranger was in his fifties, with a receding hairline which was sprinkled abundantly with grey. Round silver-rimmed spectacles rested tidily on his nose. A thin white moustache, on a plump, lined face, seemed vaguely undecided about its future. Dressed in a white, blue-striped cotton kurta, the man had a definite air of superiority.

“Sonia Samarth?” He leaned forward, catching her eye.

Sonia turned.

“I’m Charan Das,” the man said.

“Charan Das… the Astrologer?” she asked, in surprise.

“That’s right. I recognised you instantly.” Charan Das smiled, revealing slightly yellowed teeth.

“Oh!” The detective was a little abashed. “I read your horoscope weekly in the Citizen Magazine. It’s very interesting!”

“You mean monotonous!” Charan Das grinned. “It’s unavoidable, isn’t it? The planetary positions don’t change day to day, sometimes not even for months. In that case, the overall predictions remain boringly the same. It’s just the language and emphasis on different events that change.”

“I know.” Sonia nodded sympathetically. “But you’re still very convincing.”

“Thank you. You are being kind. But it’s difficult to satisfy an ever-curious reader, a person who wants to know everything! No one can predict everything!”

“I agree. Astrology has its limitations. Or should we say, more time and serious research need to be devoted to the science.”

“Even then, it’s tough to predict accurately. Also, there is the matter of belief and disbelief. Some believe in Astrology to the extent that everything they do is governed by astrological guidelines. And then there are some who scoff at it. And how can you blame them? Their lives definitely don’t follow the pattern their horoscopes have hinted at.”

Sonia was silent. She really did not wish to get into an argument over the truth of astrological predictions and the levels of people’s degree of credulity. Like Mohnish had said, each to his own belief. However, she knew from experience that life very rarely strayed away from the birth chart. It merely needed an expert eye to point out exactly how the horoscope had affected a person’s life. And to be very honest, very few were really qualified at such a level. Intuition, research, a non-commercial attitude, and a compassionate mind had a great deal to do with it. But at the moment she had no desire to expound on the qualities of the science and its influence on humans. Specially not to an Astrologer of repute who practised it as his profession!

The train chugged with a rhythm of its own. A foreigner with a haversack loaded on his back shuffled through the compartment to the next. Was Karjat Station approaching? Sonia loved the batata wadas sold at Karjat Station. Despite the heavy wedding luncheon, her stomach rumbled appreciatively at the thought of a batata wada—mashed, chilied potatoes, moulded and dipped in gram paste and then deep-fried. She glanced out of the window as the train slowed. The rain pelted down as the long ends of the platform slid into view, wet and splashy, and then the main station came into sight. The train slowed and squeaked to a halt.

Immediately vendors rushed into the compartment, offering an assortment of fast foods.

“Fried hot Samosas!”

“Karjat special Batata Wada-a-a-s!”

“Sandwi-e-e-e-ch!”

“Garam chai!”

“Idli, idli, idli!”

“Coffee-e-e-e!”

The nasal, elongated, high-pitched tones of the vendors seemed to ring in the compartment, as delicious smells whiffed into the air.

“Would you like to have wadas!” Sonia asked her companion.

“Oh yes, Karjat is special for its wadas. Can’t afford to miss them!”

Sonia smiled. “Same here!”

She hailed a passing vendor who was carrying his wadas on a tray covered with a white cloth. She ordered four wadas and dug into her handbag for the money.

“Please, let me pay!” Charan Das protested.

“No, let me!”

A minor tussle ensued, as the vendor placed the food on paper plates and waited impatiently for payment. Finally Sonia won. The vendor accepted the money, handed the plates to Sonia, and immediately moved on to cover as much sale as possible.

Sonia passed two wadas to Charan Das.

“Oh, thank you! You needn’t have!” the Astrologer exclaimed, a little bashfully.

The rain lashed on the corrugated sheets which roofed the station. Outside, hawkers stood on the platform, with cane baskets raised on crossed sticks, or frying food in huge black iron kadais—deep-frying utensils—on wheeled carts.

Glad of the warmth in the compartment and to be out of the rain, Sonia tucked into the spicy delicious batata wada, a dish almost synonymous with the rains. Sonia even savoured the salted, red hot spicy chatni that supported the dish. She felt totally satiated after she had polished off the wadas and topped the snack with a cup of hot tea.

“The train stops at Karjat for about ten minutes. An additional engine is attached to the end of the train, so as to enable the steep climb to Pune,” Charan Das explained, as the train lurched. “That was the engine being attached!”

Even as he spoke, the whistle blew and passengers hastily ascended the train. Vendors making last-minute sales walked along with the train as it moved slowly forward, passing eatables and accepting money through the grilled windows. As the train chugged out of the platform and into the rolling green landscape, Sonia glanced outside. Soon, the gbatt—mountain passes-would begin and steep waterfalls would plunge from tree-covered, misty mountains into deep, dense valleys.

“We were talking about belief or disbelief in Astrology. Weren’t we?” Charan Das crushed the thermacol teacup and stuffed it into the tiny dustbin. “I have a very interesting example to narrate to you. About this exceptional couple I know. I’ve known them for a long time.” He leaned over and added in a confidential tone, “This is a story which defies all astrological predictions!”

“Really?” Sonia’s curiosity was instantly piqued.

“Janavi Sathe was an extremely beautiful girl. Tall, slim, long thick hair, and blue eyes; she was studying medicine. She had a great future ahead of her. But her horoscope revealed a break in career and a lousy marriage. However, she always scoffed at horoscopes, saying they were an escape route for weaklings. I’ve never known a more proud and independent girl than Janavi Sathe.

“As it happened, in the midst of her studies, her parents suddenly arranged her marriage with Dinesh Ranade! Out of the blue, Janavi had to give up medicine and marry a Professor of Economics. But that was not all. He was one of the most… how can I put it… ‘unpresentable’ guys you could ever meet. He had a kind of messed-up face, and his features were in all the wrong proportions. In short, Dinesh Ranade was no match for Janavi’s beauty and they were a most un-suited couple. We all thought that her marriage was doomed from the beginning. At least that’s what her horoscope revealed. An unhappy marriage, with a dominating husband and a career wasted running after him!”

“What happened?” Sonia asked.

“The horoscope was wrong!” Charan Das leaned against his seat. “Not a thing happened according to the predictions, just as Janavi said. She had a very, very happy marriage and the couple doted on each other. I never heard her utter a single complaint against him. In fact, all I ever heard was what a wonderful person her husband was, how caring and sensitive and how much Dinesh loved her and her cooking and how he insisted on eating food prepared only by her. She, in turn, enjoyed caring for him and doing all kinds of tasks for him. Life for her was most satisfying. She adjusted beautifully to her married life and proved all our predictions wrong. She even pursued a career, handling a flourishing business in catering. It helped her to operate from home and manage both her house and career successfully, and she claimed her new career was far better than medicine, for which she realised she had no flair anyway! In fact, she did so well in her business, finally her husband stopped his professorship and took to meditation!

“They even had a son, who grew up to be a very handsome and intelligent boy. From a young age she put him in boarding school and he went on to do his Business Management and today he is on a big post in the U.S. Though I meet him rarely, I heard that the boy is doing really well and his parents are extremely proud of him.”

“Is he still in the U.S.?”

“Sunil—his name is Sunil—comes to India once a year, but he’s happy in the U.S.”

“What is Janavi doing now?”

“Now I come to a point which really and truly defies Astrology!” Charan Das remarked, a little pompously. “Some years ago, Janavi’s husband had a heart attack. He had to have surgery. Her parents and I suggested that she choose an auspicious day for the surgery. You won’t believe this, but she flatly refused. She said that every day for her was a good and auspicious day and that she loved Dinesh so much, nothing would happen to him! A very noble and positive thought and we could not make her see reason. However, as luck would have it, the day of the surgery turned out to be a most inauspicious day in the almanac. I was terribly worried. I was convinced that this stubbornness on her part would result in her husband’s death. But, wonder of wonders, the operation was a success and Dinesh came out of surgery safe and unharmed! After that, two more operations took place over a couple of years—all on days I would have never recommended—but each time he emerged unscathed. That was when I really and truly applauded Janavi. It was the sheer strength of the woman which saved the husband. Right from the beginning, her faith in herself and not her horoscope was admirable. And that’s when I began to believe that you can control your destiny. Horoscopes can guide, but they do not necessarily dominate your life. And in September the two of them are going to go on a short holiday together to a hill resort. It is their wedding anniversary and she wants to be with him, celebrating his good health with nature!”

Silence ensued. The train chugged and the rain poured, as Sonia digested the story meditatively. The mountains were now visible with the mist clinging in pockets to the tops. Waterfalls of various sizes crashed and splattered down the mossy mountainsides and vanished into rocky crevices and valleys.

Sonia turned to Charan Das thoughtfully. “Very interesting indeed. Do you happen to remember their horoscopes?”

“Of course. Janavi’s zodiac sign is Scorpio, with Cancer in the ascendant. Rahu and Mars in the first house with Cancer; Harshal in the second house with Leo; Neptune in the fourth house with Libra; Venus and the Moon in the fifth house with Scorpio; Sun, Saturn, Mercury, and Ketu in the seventh house with Capricorn, and Jupiter in the eighth house with Aquarius.”

“Hmm…” Sonia nodded reflectively. “And Dinesh?”

“Taurus is Dinesh’s zodiac sign, with Scorpio as the ascendant. Sun, Mercury, Saturn, and Rahu in the first house with Scorpio; Mars in the fourth house with Aquarius; Moon and Ketu in the seventh house with Taurus; Harshal in the ninth house with Cancer; Jupiter in the eleventh house with Virgo; and Venus and Neptune in the twelfth house with Libra.”

Sonia took in this information silently, her brain doing swift calculations. She closed her eyes and the horoscopes came into sharp focus, as clearly as if she had drawn them out on a paper and was holding them before her that very moment. Interesting, very interesting indeed!

The vision of a person removing his baggage from an overhead compartment intruded on her mind. Another person sitting directly below instinctively raises a helping hand. This instinct arises more out of the fear of the bag falling on him than out of any real spirit of offering help.

Sonia found the image intriguing.

She faced Charan Das with a fresh resolve. “Since you know the family so well, can I ask you some questions?” she asked.

“Sure!” he replied readily. “But the facts floor you, don’t they?”

“They certainly do—all I’m trying to do now is confirm a few details. Did Dinesh Ranade have his first surgery in 1998?”

Charan Das looked a little thoughtful. “That’s correct.”

“And the second surgery in 2000 and the third in 2003?”

“Absolutely correct! What exactly are you trying to do here?” he asked curiously.

“I’m trying to confirm whether the horoscopes are right. That’s always the first thing to do. Verify if the horoscope is indeed rightly charted, and that it belongs to the same person, by tallying some of the incidents in his past with his natal chart.”

“That’s right.”

“And Janavi… Rahu and Mars in her ascendant, the Sun—the planet of the second house, which is the house of family—is in conjunction with Saturn, an enemy, aspected by Mars and Rahu. Did Janavi come from a lower-middle-class family?”

The Astrologer nodded. “Her parents were not really well-off. It was only on her insistence that they entered her into a medical college. They really couldn’t afford the exorbitant fees.”

“And Dinesh came from a rich family?”

“The Ranades are famous for their family history, culture, and money. Even though Dinesh didn’t really add to it money-wise, Janavi made up for it with her catering business.”

Sonia nodded. She glanced out of the window. The rain had increased in intensity and only a white-slated curtain was visible now. Her face remained impassive, but a tussle was waging inside her mind. Should she or shouldn’t she? What if she was wrong? To be honest, it was none of her business. No, that wasn’t entirely right. As an Investigator, even an abnormal glimmering attracted her attention. Surely she was bound to justice by her moral instincts? Sonia had learnt the hard way that the paramount thing in life was life itself‘! Now she swept away her doubts brutally and turned to Charan Das with a gleam in her eyes. A gleam which Jatin would’ve recognised at once. But unfortunately for Charan Das, the Astrologer barely grasped the meaning when Sonia smiled, a little crookedly, at him.

“You narrated to me the success story of a woman who ignored the dictates of her natal chart since she disbelieved in the science of Astrology. A couple, who you’ve known for several years and whose lives have unfolded before your eyes in the exact opposite direction as their horoscopes predicted. Is that right?”

“Perfectly. Though I earn my bread and butter from Astrology, Janavi’s resolute convictions have kind of restored my faith in the power of mankind. Man can control his own destiny, if he steadfastly applies his mind to it.”

“Avery promising thought, of course,” Sonia conceded. “Now, let’s just agree on what the horoscopes predict. The Lord of the fifth house, the house of education, is in debilitated Cancer with Rahu, aspected by Saturn—Janavi’s horoscope reveals that her education would be turbulent. Whereas Sun, Saturn, and Ketu in her seventh house indicate that she would marry someone lower in class—I mean quality-wise—and that she would have to make several compromises in life. Mars and Rahu aspecting the seventh house reveal that her marriage would be a disaster, even leading to a divorce. So far, are we on one plane?”

“Absolutely.” Charan Das looked a little confused. What was this girl trying to accomplish?

“There are also several behavioural disturbances indicated in her horoscope. Rahu and Mars in the ascendant indicate violent bouts of temper, conniving— Has Janavi ever displayed this side of her nature?”

“Violent? Never!” Charan Das seemed surprised. Then he faltered and Sonia eagerly leaned forward. She felt her heart thumping.

“Just once, now that I remember, was she a trifle violent,” Charan Das admitted. “A cat kept repeatedly stealing the milk from her kitchen. She tried ways of driving it away, but without success. Then one day she deliberately placed the milk near the window and told us that she had dealt with the matter. A day later that cat was found on her terrace, dead. Of course, I’ve no idea if the animal’s death was mere coincidence or if Janavi had a role in it.”

Sonia stared at his sober, plump face. She could read the sudden uncertainty unravelling on his features, like a spool of tape.

“Now, let’s talk about Dinesh,” she said. “You mentioned that he was a Professor of Economics. At which college?”

“Fergusson College.”

“And was he good?”

“I guess so!” Charan Das shrugged.

“Sun, Rahu, Mercury, and Saturn in the first house of his horoscope indicate him to be a dominating person, lazy, insensitive, and unsuccessful in his career ventures.”

The Astrologer nodded. “Dinesh gave up his professorship very early in life and changed several jobs. But, to be honest, his inability to keep a job was more a matter of luck than capability. Though he’s been lucky in his choice of wife. Janavi made up for all the lacunae in his life.”

“The exalted Moon in Taurus in the seventh house is responsible for his beautiful wife,” Sonia supplied, but a strange glint shone in her honey eyes. “You really do have a very high opinion of Janavi, don’t you?”

“Yes, I respect her deeply. She’s a woman of substance and she has proved it at every step of her life. Anyone who has known her or seen her will understand this.”

Sonia leaned against her seat and looked straight at her middle-aged companion. “Her horoscope certainly reveals her to be a strong character,” she agreed. “Charan Dasji, I’m going to narrate a story to you, too. Based entirely on my reading of the two horoscopes you introduced to me. I’ve never met either Janavi or Dinesh, but that does not change what I have to tell you. I don’t deny that there may be a few alterations here and there, but my narration is more or less a true-to-life version. Call it a factual mapping of astrological events. Or call it the guarded and distrustful opinion of an investigator. Call it whatever you like. But I believe that Janavi has led the life exactly as her horoscope indicated.”

The Astrologer raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. “Really! I am all ears.” He folded his arms, his mouth set in a stubborn line.

Sonia nodded, forming her words carefully. “This is the story of a beautiful, middle-class girl called Janavi. She was extremely ambitious and wanted to achieve a lot of things in life. She was clever, intelligent, and aspired to be a Doctor. Since she did not have financial backing, she was also hardworking. As a child, I think she fell ill, because of which she may have lost a year at school. But she made up for it in College, and with sheer grit and determination she managed to take admission into Medical College. But even though her horoscope indicated a strong inclination towards medicine, it definitely did not belong to a Doctor. Her horoscope was the natal chart of a fighter, a proud fighter. In Medical College, Janavi fell in love with a fellow student. Perhaps he wasn’t up to mark, or perhaps her parents did not approve of him. Nevertheless, her horoscope indicates a very serious affair. But Mars in conjunction with Rahu in Cancer in the first house and Saturn in conjunction with Ketu in the seventh house indicate the break-up of a love affair. Those times were not particularly liberal. A beautiful young girl like Janavi, a girl with radical ideas of freedom and liberty, could put the family to shame. Very damaging to a family who could only boast a good name and no money. Knowing their strong-headed daughter and fearing that matters may get out of hand, they shrewdly and hastily arranged Janavi’s marriage to Dinesh Ranade, a boy from a rich, cultured family with absolutely no looks to brag about. Janavi had no alternative but to marry the boy of her parents’ choice. Her medical career, the most important focal point of her life, was lost forever.”

Sonia paused and studied Charan Das’s face. The stubborn, almost hostile expression had been replaced by a hint of reluctant interest.

Satisfied that she had achieved a dent in his hostility, she continued. “From day one, Dinesh was extremely orthodox. He wouldn’t hear of his wife taking up a job and working. He was fussy about his meals and demanded round-the-clock attention from her. There were limitations on where Janavi went, what she did, whom she met. She had to be at home every time Dinesh returned there. To give Janavi credit, she attempted to cope with his unreasonable demands. She catered to his smallest need, but as days passed and years, she realised that her life was becoming impossible and unbearable. Dinesh was no good at lecturing— the profession for which he’d trained—and he had tried his hand at a variety of careers. Nothing seemed to work. The Lord of the tenth house; Sun in conjunction with Rahu and Saturn; Saturn and Mars aspecting the tenth house, which is the house of occupation, did not grant him success in his career.

“On a personal front, he was insensitive and uncaring and, if I guess right, even cruel. Possibly he was aware of her affair before marriage, which was also the reason for their hasty marriage, and he used it as a constant threat over her head. Perhaps he taunted her about it. Janavi, being proud and status- and prestige-conscious, recognised her need to keep her miserable personal life under wraps. She knew that whatever happened, she could never let her parents or society know what a wretched failure her marriage truly was. Or what a mess her life had become. That is why she always went out of her way to paint this glorious happy picture of their marriage. They had terrible fights, but she never made them public. When they had a son, Janavi tried her best to keep him away from the shadow of a loveless life. At the first opportunity, she sent him to boarding school. She did not want her son to witness their fights and their senseless existence. Mars, the planet of the fifth house, which is the house of children, is in conjunction with Rahu and Jupiter in the eighth house—the stars clearly reveal that Janavi will always pine for her son.”

“I must say that you are analysing their horoscopes rather well,” Charan Das conceded.

“Speculation, certainly, but no one is perfect and nothing is certain in life. But I’d say that this time, I’m ninety percent on the mark.”

“Go on.”

“Frustrated and wanting to do something with her life, Janavi finally set her mind on a catering business, which became successful. By then, Dinesh had given up all attempts at a career. He wasn’t earning a single rupee and was happy to hand over the reins of earning to his wife. Provided, of course, she never said or did a thing to touch his ego. And besides, as long as she did not ignore his needs and operated from home, he was fine. Janavi was relieved. Something was better than nothing and money was now a necessity to support their little family. But a catering career was a far cry from her dreams of becoming a doctor. It pained her that her life had become a virtual waste—married to a cruel, pigheaded, good-for-nothing guy, with nothing to look forward to in the future.”

Sonia glanced out of the window. It was getting dark and the rain was a steady downpour. “Now I come to a point in Janavi’s life which you claimed defied all astrological predictions! Dinesh’s heart surgery. And which I call an era of astrological revelations! By the time Dinesh had a heart attack, Janavi was at a point of breakdown. She had suffered a lot and she wanted out, but she knew that she couldn’t. She couldn’t simply divorce Dinesh—and anyway, she knew he would never give her a divorce. Being a Scorpio, whose Lord Mars is in conjunction with Rahu in a debilitating star Cancer, and with Saturn in the opposition, it is not surprising that Janavi would go to any extreme. Mars and Rahu in the ascendant also aspect the Sun—the planet of the spouse—in the seventh house, as well as the Lord of the seventh house. It clearly shows that this woman wouldn’t hesitate to plot a revenge against her husband!

“Dinesh’s heart attack came as a ray of hope for her. His surgery was the perfect opportunity for her to get rid of him forever. She capitalized on the situation and chose the worst possible day in the almanac for it, ensuring that her husband would never recover from the surgery. But the stars were on Dinesh’s side. His horoscope indicated that he would emerge safely out of the bad phase of his life. Which he did. Still, Janavi did not lose hope. For the next surgery, she found an equally inauspicious day, just as she did for the next. But Dinesh’s Jupiter was his biggest aid. And thus, today, if it hadn’t been for Dinesh’s good stars, he would no doubt be a dead man!”

The train chugged noisily, the sound merging with the swishing of the rain. Charan Das stared at the detective, an expression of horror on his face. His mouth was open but no words came out of it.

Sonia drew in a deep breath. She knew that she was treading on delicate ground, but something drove her on. An inner voice. An instinctive warning. A precautionary measure?

“And now I come to the climax of the story,” she said, her voice grim. “Janavi was in despair. All the natural routes to extinction had failed. There was only one solution to her problem: resorting to man-made measures. And this is the climax of the tale. As a last and final try, she decided to plan a trip with her husband to a hill station. She informed her family and friends that she was delighted that her beloved husband was finally out of danger. A few days in a hill resort after his surgery would be perfect for him to recuperate. The holiday fell on their wedding anniversary, and she longed to spend some peaceful days, reliving their youth. So peaceful, so romantic. But something happened, just one day after the couple reached the hill station. Dinesh and Janavi went for a walk around the cliff. Unfortunately, his foot slipped and he toppled over the mountainside. It all happened so fast, she couldn’t do a thing to save him. Janavi returned home, grief-struck but consoled with the fact that, till the end, she had done her duty towards her husband…”

Charan Das shut his mouth. He extracted a bottle of water from a cloth bag, and gulped down half the bottle, spilling water over his kurta. Sonia scrutinised him quietly.

Finally he found his voice. “I don’t know what to say… That’s a most serious accusation ”

“On the sixteenth of July,” she said quietly, “the Sun entered the zodiac sign Cancer, where originally Mars is in conjunction with Rahu, in Janavi’s natal chart. This planetary position will last till the sixteenth of August. During this period, Janavi may have made her plan to eliminate her husband. On the fifth of September, Saturn will also enter Cancer, and remain in conjunction with Mars and Rahu and aspect the seventh house. Which means that Janavi must set her plan into motion anytime after the fifth of September. Besides, in Dinesh’s horoscope, Venus, the planet signifying ‘woman,” is in conjunction with Neptune in the twelfth house, hinting at the danger he may be exposed to due to the dramatic and weird behaviour of the woman in his life.“ Sonia paused as she allowed the astrological significance of this to sink in. Then she said:

“Charan Dasji, you gave me one half of the story and I gave you the other half—the other half of the picture based on their horoscopes. I could be wrong, since I don’t claim that I can predict anything a hundred percent. And it’s most certainly not an accusation. However, I fear it’s a very real possibility. I thought it my responsibility to lay out the pros and cons of these very interesting characters before you. You can believe it or not. The choice is yours.”

The train lurched and slowed down. Suddenly the rain eased and Sonia turned to look out of the window. Dusk had fallen and a white curtain of mist streamed in through the window.

“Oh, it’s Lonavala Station! I’m getting off for a few minutes. I need to stretch my legs,” she said.

Sonia rose gracefully and headed towards the door. Charan Das stared after the detective speechlessly. He frowned. His brain began ticking.

Sonia stepped off onto the platform and stretched her arms. She felt good. Almost light-headed, detached, and, in a way, relieved. As if she had passed a test. She had responded to the voice of her gut instinct; she had answered the call of duty.

Horoscope of Dinesh

II SHREE II

CHEATING DESTINY—HOROSCOPE OF DINESH

Born on 20th November, 8.00 a.m.

Zodiac Sign—Taurus

Ascendant—Scorpio

Mercury, Saturn, Rahu and Sun in Scorpio,

in the 1st House

Mars in Aquarius, in the 4th House

Moon and Ketu in Taurus, in the 7th House

Harshal in Cancer, in the 9th House

Jupiter in Virgo, in the 11th House

Venus and Neptune in Libra, in the 12th House

The platform was nearly empty. Cool mist swirled through the station and she hugged her jacket. Insects and mosquitoes buzzed around the tube lights of the tall station lamps. A cbaiwala was peering hopefully through the windows of the stopped train, offering hot cups of chai. Sonia accepted the thermacol cup and paid him. She sipped the tea contentedly, glancing out at the fading peaks of the mountains far away.

“Excuse me,” a rough voice grated behind her.

Sonia turned to find herself facing a medium-height, pleasant-looking stranger. The young man wore a crisp sky-blue shirt and off-white trousers. Silver-tinted square-rimmed spectacles revealed light grey eyes which stared back at her with a searing intensity.

“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation with that gentleman in the train,” the man remarked with a sudden fierceness.

“Oh! I’m afraid that wasn’t…” Sonia began, a little alarmed.

“All that you said…you meant it, didn’t you?” His eyes bore into her.

Sonia nodded slowly. “It’s what I deduced from
the horoscopes. But I don’t know if it’s true. I mean, it was speculation…”

“Of course it’s true! Every single word you spoke was correct! I know it now. I’ve wondered all my life. About my parents. Why my mother sent me to boarding school…”

Sonia gasped.

“Yes, I’m Sunil, Janavi and Dinesh’s son!” the young man rasped. “And that last bit… about the hill station… My dad called me last week and told me he feared for his life. He spoke about this trip Mom was planning for him and he begged me to return to India and save his life! You know, I scoffed at him. I told him Mom loved him dearly and that he was hallucinating! But he wouldn’t listen. I had never heard him more unreasonable, so disturbed! I couldn’t visit India just now and I told him so. This isn’t the right time of the year and I’d just changed my job. I really couldn’t afford to take leave, for a silly, paranoid whim. But then Mom also insisted. She said I ought to meet with Dad. It would be good for both of us she said! So finally, I persuaded my new Boss and he relented. I’m on my way to Pune to visit my parents right now. I’ve been puzzled with Dad’s accusations. But after overhearing your discussion with that other gentleman, everything has suddenly become crystal clear! Now I know why Mom insisted that I come back to India to meet Dad! Because it will be our last time together!”

Tears glittered in Sunil’s grey eyes. Sonia wanted to reach out to him and offer words of comfort. But she knew that nothing she would say could relieve the pain of reality. Life had a heuristic way of teaching things. It was Sunil’s turn to learn and to discover the hard truths for himself.

“But I can’t believe it. I can’t believe that her thoughts would run in such a hideous direction!” Horror twisted on the young man’s face. “Planning to kill Dad, my own father! I always doted on my mother, thought she was the world’s greatest mom. It’s impossible to admit that she could be the world’s worst Mom!”

Sonia’s heart felt heavy. She took a deep breath and in a steady voice said, “Sunil, I think you must remember something. I know that the worst could’ve happened. But it hasn’t. Which means that your mother is not a criminal. You must try and understand what she may have gone through in life. All her hopes dashed, her career in medicine gone, a husband who probably tortured her mentally, till she wanted to die herself! She surely faced a lot for her to contemplate such extremes. And your father must share a lot of the blame, too. He drove her to desperation.”

“What are you saying?” Sunil stared at her with incredulity.

“All I’m saying is this: Don’t judge your mother too harshly, especially since you’ve had the good fortune of listening to both sides of the story. I repeat— she is not a criminal—not yet. It’s now up to you to stop her from doing anything ruinous. To handle her delicately, so that she retraces her steps from whatever rash path she was on the brink of following. Treat her with sympathy, like an erring human, not a criminal beyond redemption.”

Sunil blinked behind his spectacles. Tears now streamed freely down his cheeks. He nodded and said, in a voice thick with feeling, “Thank you, Soniaji. Thank you, not only for saving my dad but also for releasing my mom from herself. Thank you for rescuing both of them!”

Sonia held out her hand and took his in a clasp. “All I can say is, best of luck.”

She watched him climb back into the train, his shoulders drooping and his hand brushing away the tears of grim realisation. Every sense of detachment that she had experienced earlier vanished in a trice. She was involved to the hilt now. Committed and responsible for whatever transpired in Sunil’s life. What a strange coincidence that he should be in the same bogey as her. It was almost as if destiny had planned it deliberately, throwing all the relevant characters together as if in a play or a film. Sudden guilt speared through her. Had she done the right thing?

Deep sympathy for Sunil weighed heavily on her heart. Feeling completely upset, she crushed the empty thermacol cup and threw it into the dustbin.

As if answering her agonised doubts, a voice spoke behind her. “Well done, Sonia!”

Sonia whirled around. She stared at the tall figure standing before her.

“Varun!” Sonia whispered. “What in heavens are you doing here?”

Draped in a long buff-coloured overcoat, Varun Thakur smiled warmly at her, revealing his perfect teeth. Blue-green eyes held her honey gaze as he said in a deep voice, “I’ve been sitting right behind you and I heard every word of your interaction. You are amazing, do you know that? You’re terrific. You just saved that boy’s father from certain fate.”

Sonia’s heart was thumping. Varun Thakur—The Owl—was right before her. It was as if her earlier thoughts of him had conjured him out of the blue. Tall, handsome, with thick brown hair ruffled with the wind, he seemed to have materialised out of nowhere! She must be dreaming!

She finally found her voice. “Varun, why didn’t you tell me you were on the train?”

“Because I didn’t wish to interrupt one of the most eye-opening analyses of horoscopes and people I’ve ever had the good fortune to hear. Not to mention the fact that my presence would have interrupted a larger cause. That of revealing the double standards of behaviour and unmasking the societal facades of people!”

The whistle hooted, indicating the departure of the train.

“The train’s leaving,” she remarked, unnecessarily.

“Go on. I’m not taking it.”

The Deccan Queen began moving but Sonia remained rooted to the spot, feeling hypnotised by the affectionate gleam of blue-green eyes.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“Personal business. Had a burning desire to meet with you!” He grinned. “You better hurry if you want to catch that train!”

He nudged her slightly and she jerked, as if out of a trance. She turned quickly, matched her steps with the moving train, and jumped in through the open door. Once inside, she leaned over for a glimpse of The Owl.

Varun Thakur stood on the platform, staring at her. “I’m proud of you, Sonia,” he called. “Keep it up.” His deep voice rang with sincerity.

The train picked up speed, chugging rhythmically out of the station. Varun remained on the empty platform. Despite the fast-increasing distance between them, the warmth of his gaze reached and cocooned her heart. Mist swirled around him, forming a luminescent aura. He lifted a hand and waved, and then the mist enveloped him in a cool embrace and he vanished from her sight.

Horoscope of Pankaj

II SHREE II

THE HOROSCOPE TRAP—HOROSCOPE OF PANKAJ

Born on 15th May, 9.00 a.m.

Zodiac Sign—Libra

Ascendant—Gemini

Ketu in Gemini, in the 1st House

in Leo, in the 3rd House

Moon in Libra, in the 5th House Neptune,

Rahu and Harshal in Sagittarius,

in the 7th House

Saturn in Capricorn, in the 8th House

Mars in Pisces, in the 10th House

Mercury and Venus in Aries, in the 11th House

Sun in Taurus, in the 12th House

The narrow road—part tar, part mud—curved, crested, and dipped in an uneven and unpredictable manner. But that didn’t prevent the two cars from speeding, racing. Pankaj drove more carefully, since Tina, his young daughter, was in the car with him. The child was jumping for joy, shouting loudly, “Faster, Daddy, faster! Mummy can’t win!” Pankaj smiled indulgently at her, but did not dare speed up. Besides, his wife, Anju, was safely behind them. But at that very moment Anju flashed by, waving and blowing flying kisses. Her bright purple scarf fluttered in the wind.

“Faster, Daddy! Mummy’s gone ahead!” Tina yelled.

Pankaj saw Anju’s car swish up the rise, round the corner at breakneck speed, and tear down the slope. And suddenly the sound of the crash rent the air.

“Anju!” he gasped.

“Mummy!” Tina’s young voice held pure terror.

With a heart bursting with pain, Pankaj jerked awake. His face was bathed in perspiration. He lay in bed, frozen in time. Eleven months. He was caught in a time warp. The eleven longest months of his life. The incident branded on his brain like a permanent scar. But it was better this time. At least he had not dreamt the images of the car hurtling over the cliff, bursting into flames. Perhaps he was beginning to heal? Yes, perhaps he was, thanks to Sheetal…

The pristine beach wound like a pearl ribbon along the grey-blue, white-topped sea. The waves peaked in foamy surf, as if some giant was playing with soap bubbles. Clustered Pine and Fir trees led to hilly mounds. At the foot of two sand dunes, a rickety bridge joined two shallow inlets of the sea. A little away from the bridge stood a beautiful two-storied house. A rock-cut wall surrounded a sandy, Coconut tree-lined garden. Seven stone steps led up to a grand porch, resting under teakwood pillars and a sloping red-tiled roof.

Five-year-old Tina lay on her stomach on the wooden swing, drawing cartoons on paper. Her pink dress was soiled and her drawing material was scattered all over the garden. Sheetal—her governess—rested against a jute armchair. Attired in a light printed blue cotton Salwar Kameez, she watched the child with a fond expression. What a pretty girl Tina was, Sheetal thought. And so intelligent. The child understood every word spoken to her. Not only was she mature for her age, but she asked curious questions and ruminated over each answer, taking her time accepting it. Perhaps that was best. The girl would surely have loads more questions when she grew up. And someone had to answer them to her satisfaction.

Pankaj stood at the bedroom window which overlooked the garden. He watched the two most important women in his life, and a pleased smile played upon his lips. What could be a better omen than this? His daughter getting along so well with Sheetal! The battle for the custody of Tina and the accusations flung at him by Anju’s parents had left a very bitter taste in his mouth. The fact that he had won the case had helped to dim the pain. But it was Sheetal who had finally erased that blinding hurt and changed the entire course of his life. Sheetal with her bright smile and sensitive nature…

Now was the time to pop the crucial question, he decided. But he hesitated nevertheless. And he knew why. Sheetal’s obsession with her longtime college friend Jeetu worried him. She never stopped talking about him. She took advice from him on every single issue. What if she told him, Pankaj, that she needed to consult Jeetu before committing to him? A shard of jealousy ripped through him, taking him by surprise. My God! He was jealous of the guy! Which was not a good sign at all! Pankaj shook his head. No, it was now or never. With sudden resolution, he turned from the window and, opening the door, clattered down the stairs towards the garden.

Sheetal glanced up in surprise at Pankaj’s abrupt appearance.

“Hello! I thought you had already left for work,” she told him.

Pankaj shrugged and sat down beside her. Much to his annoyance, she looked a little uncomfortable.

“What are those?” He indicated some picture postcards in her lap.

“Oh, I found these in the village general store, placed on the bottom shelf. Aren’t they absolutely lovely? They give a perfect image of the Konkan seaside life! Jeetu has never been to the sea. He has never even seen the sea! Can you imagine that? So educated, so worldly-wise. And he hasn’t seen the sea! So I thought I’d buy these for him and give them to him whenever I meet him again. Or perhaps I shall post them. After all that he has done for me, supporting me through thick and thin, this is the least I can do,” she replied, with a pleased smile, studying the picture cards critically.

Jeetu again! What was wrong with this woman? Pankaj wondered in infuriation. Here he was, showing every inclination of interest towards her, and all she could think of was Jeetu! Blast that fellow. With an uncharacteristic display of impatience and anger, he snatched the cards from her lap and flung them aside.

“Sheetal, I’m in love with you. Marry me! Will you marry me?”

For a heart-stopping moment, she stared at him in an unfathomable manner. Then she asked haltingly, “Do you… really… mean that?”

“Of course I do! Can’t you see how crazy I am about you? You must marry me!” Pankaj clasped her hands between his.

“Oh Pankaj, I can’t believe this! I love you, too!” She seemed amazed and breathless.

“So you will…?”

“Oh yes, I will!” A look of relief flashed across her face, as she glanced at Tina. “I was worried about her.”

“I know. But Tina won’t mind. She adores you! And even if she didn’t, I want to marry you!”

“That’s not what I meant. But never mind! When shall we get married?”‘

“You mean you don’t need to consult your good friend Jeetu about it?” he mocked.

Sheetal blushed. “That’s not funny. And anyway, Jeetu would certainly approve,” she replied primly.

“Not before he tears off my hair in frustration because I asked you first!” Pankaj laughed.

Sheetal looked shocked. “Jeetu is just a good friend. There’s not a romantic bone in his body!”

“That is most reassuring! Come on, let’s make plans. I want to get married tomorrow!”

Unnoticed by them, a figure was observing them minutely from within the house. Ganesh Pandit, Pankaj’s secretary, looked satisfied. Things were shaping up exactly as he thought they would!

Sonia sat at her wooden table, a sheet of paper laid out before her. The rude words, printed in a beautiful font, on a laser printout, were ominous. “Cut the Astrology trash!” Who could’ve sent her this note? And why? Perhaps the “why” could be answered. Someone who obviously disapproved of her investigative techniques; someone narrow-minded, closed to the possibilities of the world, of sciences which went back over ages! Perhaps a policeman who felt she was making a mockery of something as serious as crime?

A soft knock on the door preceded the arrival of Inspector Divekar.

“Hello, beti!”

“Think of the devil!” Sonia grinned.

“Lucky me!” the Inspector laughed and pulled out a chair. “What’s happening?”

Sonia pushed the slip of paper to him. “I thought it could be the act of a policeman.”

Inspector Divekar studied the note. “You could be right,” he conceded, frowning. “When did you get this?”

“Last month. There was another one before that. I’ve got it here somewhere.” She rummaged through her drawer and withdrew the first note she had received.

“‘Get lost with your Astrology!” Divekar read aloud. “I don’t like the arrogant tone in these notes.”

“I know what you mean.” Sonia nodded.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure whether I should take them seriously. It just could be someone trying to infuriate me.”

“Or it could be someone with more serious intentions,” Inspector Divekar warned. “Look at it this way, you’re getting popular and successful—two surefire signs of making more enemies.”

“This person seems to be more like a critic than a lunatic or an enemy. And criticism for me is like the sea. And I am the ship in the sea of criticism. You not only need the sea to keep a ship afloat, but you also need high tide to move it forward. So the more criticism, the more buoyant and progressive my ship is. My philosophy is, never let the sea or the criticism enter the ship, or it will sink!”

“Oh yes, it’s good to philosophise occasionally. But not when the criticism could take harmful or life-threatening forms!”

“Do you really think this person could be dangerous?”

“You never know. And that’s why I think it’s time for you to be armed.”

“Armed!” Sonia sounded genuinely surprised.

“Uncle, I’m a peace-loving, God-fearing, animal-loving human being!”

“Who also happens to be a detective! So if you want to protect your peace-loving soul, you’d better start acting now!”

“Wow!” Jatin exclaimed. He had overheard the last bit of the conversation and his eyes were gleaming. “Do you mean a gun?”

“Pistol. I’ll get you a licence and teach you how to use it in an emergency,” Inspector Divekar told Sonia forcefully.

“Uncle, you’re beginning to scare me. How in heavens can I carry a pistol in my handbag?”

“You’ll learn if you really love yourself.” The Inspector chuckled and rose. “I must get going. But I’ll contact you soon.”

“I can’t believe it!” Jatin exclaimed as the door closed behind the Inspector’s back. His expression was incredulous. “You’re actually going to be a real detective!”

“Jatin, I am a real detective. Pistol or no pistol!” Sonia retorted crossly. “Now get back to work.”

“Er… actually, Boss, Naina is here. I was wondering if I could take a long lunch break?”

“Sure! Go enjoy yourself.” Sonia smiled, hiding her relief. It would be good to have the office all to herself. Jatin could be quite overpowering at times!

“Thank you, Boss, I’ll make it up to you!” Jatin flashed out of the room, leaving her to wonder what he meant by that!

After a moment, Sonia leaned back in her chair and let her thoughts loose. Automatically they turned to that evening in Lonavala. When she had run into Varun. Involuntarily her heart raced and with a start she realised that she had enjoyed that brief and surprise encounter with The Owl. And, to her great dismay, she was looking forward to meeting with him again! No, she thought wildly. I can’t allow a few charming words to get under my skin! The Owl is a criminal! I cannot be attracted to a criminal, however handsome, she reprimanded herself severely. She hadn’t mentioned the rendezvous to anyone, not even Mohnish. Especially not Mohnish.

Sonia stared out of the window at the sleepy afternoon. A light drizzle was beginning to fall. The traffic had eased and a few pedestrians were strolling under colourful umbrellas. The umbrellas reminded her of the rakhis—colourful sparkling designs of paper, sponge, and crafts to be adorned on the wrist—a symbol of protection. Raksha Bandhan—the festival when a sister tied a rakhi on her brother’s wrist, eliciting a promise of protection from him—was round the corner and glittering displays of rakhis festooned the shops. Sarang, Sonia thought. A wave of loneliness swamped her and she closed her eyes to shut it out.

Devika popped her head in. “Hello! Busy?”

Sonia hastily pasted a welcoming smile on her lips. “Not exactly. Come along in.”

“Actually, I’m on my way to Mumbai. Thought I’d let you know, just so you can keep an eye open for our ‘ghost’!” Devika smiled, revealing her crooked teeth.

“Very unlikely that he may return. But I’ll keep a lookout all the same.”

The phone rang just then and Sonia lifted the receiver.

“Stellar Investigations.”

“Hello, I’d like to speak to Miss Sonia Samarth.” The voice was cultured and deep.

“Speaking.” Sonia’s attention was immediately drawn to the caller’s formal tone. Devika waved to her, indicating that she was leaving, and exited.

“This is Pankaj Naik. I want to consult you regarding an important matter.”

“Why don’t you come over to my office?”

“Well, I’m calling from Kelshi, which is along the coastline. About four hours from Pune. And I was wondering if you could come down, instead.”

“If you could tell me what this is all about…”

“It’s my antiques. Some of my antiques are missing. I found one missing a few months ago and I decided that probably I had misplaced it. But when another one vanished yesterday, I began to get worried. I have a feeling they were stolen. And believe me, they are priceless. If you could come down…”

“Do you think someone in your house is responsible for it?”

“I don’t know. Actually, we are a very small family. I remarried recently and Sheetal and I live with our daughter, Tina. The only other person who frequents our house is my secretary, Ganesh Pandit, and two local maids. But, Miss Samarth, I’d feel a lot better if you could come over and take a look at the house and the room and—”

“All right, I will. I’ll come over this Saturday. We will drive down early morning.”

“And you can stay for lunch,” he added courteously.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.”

“I insist! Of course you must stay for lunch. See you on Saturday, then. Thanks a lot, and goodbye!” He hung up.

Sonia replaced the receiver with a thoughtful shrug. Kelshi. Quite a long distance to go at the beckoning of a mere phone call. But Pankaj sounded sincere, and if she took up the case, she would have to examine the house from which the antiques were being stolen. Well, she certainly had good news for Jatin when he returned from his date!

“You know what you’re doing, I hope,” Jatin remarked, his hands on the steering wheel of the van.

“Of course I do!” Sonia replied patiently.

“Agreeing to come all this way on the basis of a phone invitation! I never heard of anything more impulsive and unprofessional! No appointment, no prior meeting, no advance, no money consultation—I’m simply horrified!”

“Jatin, I think that’s enough. By now you should trust me to make the right decision,” Sonia remarked, a little crossly. But at the back of her mind she had to admit that he was right. It was impulsive.

“Trust you to be professional?” His exasperated tone said it all. “I hope you are aware that I cancelled my date with Naina! Simply because I couldn’t allow you to go romping alone round the State satisfying your investigative urges!”

“Well, in case you’ve forgotten, I pay you for such services,” Sonia retorted sweetly. “Also, it will help you to remember that you’re my Assistant, not my Boss.”

Jatin had the grace to blush. “I’m sorry, Boss, but you…”

“Okay, I accept that you’re right sometimes. But think of this trip as a holiday. A trip to the sea. Or better still, look at it as Recce—location-hunting. Who knows, you may like Kelshi enough to come here on your honeymoon with Naina?”

Jatin turned a deep red and laughed in appreciation. “If you put it that way…”

Sonia relaxed against her seat, satisfied with the accomplished and desired effect. That would keep him quiet and dreamy for a while.

The van rose and dipped, as per the mood of the uneven, wet, rough tar road. Jatin drove carefully, as Sonia studied the passing landscape. They had risen early and were now almost at their destination. The red mud, so typical of the Konkan—the west coast of Peninsular India—was very much evident as they passed mud houses plastered with dry Coconut branches and sloping red-tiled roofs. Wooden fences made of twigs, stone, and mud aligned walking paths. A variety of cacti covered the fences. The Flame of the Fire—tall trees with orange flowers—and the Saveri—the cotton-producing tree with the scarlet-petal leathery flowers—bordered the route. Blueberry bushes under which animals could take shelter spread like sprawling nets.

The van turned into a narrow track which soon opened into a small square. The village of Kelshi boasted nothing more than basic general stores. Jatin slowed down to study the surroundings. A State Transport public bus was trying to manoeuvre itself in the small space and Jatin pulled up on the side of a general store with wooden boards garishly painted in blue. The dust-covered red-and-beige bus, filled with the locals, backtracked expertly and headed out of the village.

“Remind me to buy cashewnuts and Kokam on our way back,” Sonia remarked, as she spotted a store selling the same items. “Excuse me!”

Sonia called out in Marathi to a lady clad in a green nine-yard sari and flowers adorning sleek oiled hair in a bun. The lady stopped at once.

“Could you tell me the way to the Naik bungalow?”

Others immediately joined the woman to answer Sonia’s question. Everyone seemed to know the Naik bungalow.

“Take the tar road straight down and turn off at the muddy track to the beach and walk the remaining distance.” A man in a white kurta pyjama pointed out the route. Sonia thanked the knot of curious people and Jatin immediately set the vehicle rolling. Sonia watched the houses surrounded and shaded by Coconut and Kokam trees, with their spacious angan—courtyards. Morning activities seemed to keep the locals busy. Smoke swirled through the chool on which huge containers boiled water for bathing. Wooden logs were piled high against the walls of the houses. It was the access to the houses which Sonia found fascinating. Belonging to the era of the Peshwas, a small water canal led to each house, and wooden bridges, like weighbridges, hung over the canals.

“So far, it’s a lovely, rustic place for a honeymoon,” Jatin reflected, and Sonia hid a smile. Jatin would be pretty occupied gazing at things through honeymoon-dipped eyes.

The van turned off at a wet muddy track and trundled right up to the beach. Jatin parked the vehicle beside a clump of Pine trees. A signboard on one tree read

PROTECT SEA TURTLES. IT IS A CRIME TO KILL

SEA TURTLES OR STEAL THEIR EGGS.

PROSPERING SEA TURTLES MEAN A

PROSPERING SEA!

The message was issued by the Forest Department of Ratnagiri.

Jatin expelled a low, appreciative whistle as his eyes travelled along the pristine beach. A boat filled with people was making its way slowly between the two shores. The boatman, in a red T-shirt and a knee-high white lungi, manoeuvred the boat with long poles.

In the distance, a little away from the beach, within a clump of Coconut and Pine trees, stood a tall, magnificent bungalow.

“That’s the place,” Sonia indicated, as they made their way past two high sand-dunes, wet with fresh rain.

A wooden bridge was little more than a group of logs tied unevenly together to form a platform and another raised log for support. Jatin eyed the bridge suspiciously, shamelessly awaiting Sonia to attempt the first step.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe!” a voice rang out, and they both looked up to see a tall, slim woman in jeans and a black top. “Just hold the top of the bridge for support and don’t look down.”

“Easier said than done,” Jatin muttered but followed his Boss, who nimbly stepped onto the bridge. He avoided looking down at the logs, which had gaping gaps in them, revealing the sea lapping six feet down.

He heaved a sigh when he reached safe, stable land again.

“Hello! I’m Sheetal Naik,” the woman greeted, smiling pleasantly. “Sonia Samarth?”

“That’s right. And this is Jatin. And this must be Tina,” Sonia observed as the shy kid, in a multicoloured knitted skirt and top, hung behind Sheetal. “Hello, Tina!”

“Pankaj is waiting for you. Come along this way.”

“This is a beautiful place.” Sonia spoke by way of conversation as they followed Sheetal towards the house.

“Yes, isn’t it? I loved it the moment I set my eyes on it. The house is beautiful, too. Little did I know that I would one day be living here. Pankaj really cares for his land. I think that’s what’s best about him. What he loves, he loves with his whole heart and soul!” An unconscious pride had crept into her voice.

“Have you been married long?”

“No, actually just a week. It all happened very suddenly. I’d been working here for a few months, looking after little Tina. I think Pankaj may tell you all about his first wife’s tragic accident. He had advertised for someone to fill a post of Governess and since I was on the lookout for a job, I thought why not try this out. It’s quite another story that I fell in love with Tina. She’s an adorable child!”

“And in love with the father of the child,” Sonia supplied softly.

Sheetal blushed. “Yes, that came as a surprise. More so because everything happened so quickly. I guess love does strike like lightning.”

They had arrived at the house. Sheetal led them through the garden, up the steps to the spacious porch, and through the wooden doors into a wide hall. Immediately, a tall man in a white shirt and black trousers appeared to meet them.

“Welcome to Kelshi.” Pankaj Naik smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. He had the brown good looks of a man who spent most of his life outdoors—a figure in perfect form, packed with energy. “I’m so glad that you could make it. Should we go straight to my study?”

“I’ll get us some hot tea.” Sheetal moved out of the hall and little Tina followed her.

Pankaj led Sonia and Jatin into another room on the ground floor. The windows overlooked the beach and the sea, giving the room a wonderful feel.

“Your house is beautiful,” Sonia commented, moving to a display of five old statues in a wood-and-glass showcase.

“Thank you,” Pankaj replied.

“Are these the antiques you were talking about?”

“Yes. I had about seven of these statues from the epic Ramayana. My grandfather bought them years ago and they are family heirlooms. About five months ago, I discovered that one of the statues was missing. Like I said on the phone, I thought then that I had merely misplaced it. Or that my wife … I mean, Anju, my first wife… I thought that she must’ve removed it and kept it someplace. I… haven’t been myself since… since she died, so I thought that’s probably why I didn’t notice it sooner. But when I found another one missing two days ago, I realised that something’s not right. I had to look into the matter.”

Jatin whipped out a pad and began making notes. Sonia nodded in appreciation.

“Is the cupboard always locked?”

“Yes, though I did it more out of a force of habit. Hardly anyone ever enters this room. My guests always meet in the hall and the dining room. Very rarely do I allow anyone in here. Except my wife—I mean, Sheetal—and my Secretary, Ganesh.”

Sheetal walked in with a tray. As she handed out cups of hot tea and Kaaju barfi—cashewnut sweet— she told them, “Ganesh Pandit has been working with Pankaj for more than a year now. I believe he’s quite trustworthy.”

“Can I take a look at the statues?” Sonia asked.

“Of course!” Pankaj readily rose and fished out a key from his pocket. He opened the cupboard door and moved aside to allow Sonia to make her inspection.

The wooden statues of the prominent figures from the Ramayana, polished with age, stood in a straight row. Sonia lifted one. It left a dent of dust on the shelf. She studied the statue, noticing the fine carving, the tiny painted thrones on each head, and the delicate features of Ram, Sita, and a deer. The statue surely was unique and no doubt worth considerable money. She replaced it and swept a casual hand over the rest of the antiques. They were impressive pieces of sculpture.

“They are teakwood, made out of whole wood. Notice especially the Ram and Sita couple with the deer. Isn’t it fantastic?”

“Absolutely,” Sonia agreed. “Are you sure that the lock wasn’t picked?” she asked as she turned from the cupboard.

“No, the lock was intact.” Pankaj turned the key in the lock and dropped it into his pocket again.

“Which means someone who has access to the key has taken the statues,” Sonia concluded. “And these windows? Are they always fastened from the inside?”

“Always. Almost throughout the year it’s so windy, and during the monsoons it’s so stormy that I have to keep the windows shut,” Pankaj replied.

Sonia took a seat on the sofa, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Which means that no one can climb in through the windows. No outsider ever enters this room and apparently no member of the house would’ve taken the statues.”

“It’s a real mystery, isn’t it?” Pankaj grimaced. “That’s the reason why I had to invite you. I’d heard that with the help of horoscopes, you’ve solved many cases.”

Jatin flashed his Boss a glance full of pride, but Sonia looked a little abashed.

“Yes, it’s my main crime-solving tool. And in this case, too, I shall need all the horoscopes. Including your Secretary Ganesh Pandit’s horoscope.”

“But you said it’s unlikely that it could be anyone from the house,” Sheetal reminded her.

“I said ‘apparently,”“ Sonia corrected gently. ”There are so many hidden crevices in a person’s character. And a horoscope invariably does define a character. One may believe in the predictions or not, but no one can refute the capacity of a horoscope to reveal the real character of a person.“

“Oh, that sounds very interesting!” Pankaj exclaimed. “In that case, I shall immediately fetch you the horoscopes. Sheetal, you have yours, don’t you? And I’d already asked Ganesh to bring his today. Also, I told you yesterday that I would need Jeetu’s horoscope. Did you get it from him?”

Sheetal looked a little uneasy. “I did, but is it really necessary? Jeetu has nothing to do with the antiques theft.” She frowned.

Pankaj laughed. “I know he doesn’t. But I’m curious about him. And, after all, he’s a good friend of yours. Why not try to find out more about him?”

Sheetal stared at her husband for a moment, but he maintained a smiling posture. Sonia glanced from one to the other but said nothing.

“All right,” Sheetal sighed. “I’ll be right back.”

The moment she left the room, Pankaj turned eagerly to Sonia. “Look, I know you must be wondering.

But I must be frank with you. Jeetu has been Sheetal’s friend for a long, long time. Though I’ve never met him, I’m aware that he’s a very important part of my wife’s life. Before our marriage, I was almost afraid that she was in love with him. Thankfully she wasn’t, and we got married. But I’m truly curious about him. To be very honest, even a little jealous. I hope you understand. I love Sheetal a lot, but I have to know that there’s nothing between them. You do understand, don’t you?“ His pleading voice and anxious gaze made Sonia nod.

“I know what you mean. But if I were you, I wouldn’t make your jealousy so obvious. I understand that you’ve just been married,” she remarked.

“Yes. After Anju, my first wife, died in a car accident, I was grief-struck and lost. I was incapable of even taking care of Tina. So I had to find a Governess for my daughter. I was lucky to find Sheetal. She’s studied child psychology and wanted to be with children before she embarked on another definite, more lucrative career. After I hired her, I totally ignored Sheetal. Life had lost its interest for me. But gradually, I realised how good she was with Tina. Tina also seemed to adore her. And then as days passed I began to find her terribly attractive. Before long I was in love and couldn’t bear the thought of her ever leaving. Luckily for me, Sheetal had also begun to have feelings for me. My only worry was Jeetu, who featured regularly in her conversation and in all her decisions. But ultimately it all worked out fine. And we are happily married now. I feel wonderful and alive. It’s only this antiques business which is worrying me at present, and just for my own satisfaction I’d like to be sure that Jeetu is absolutely no threat to our marriage!”

Pankaj paused, looking expectantly at Sonia, who responded with an understanding nod.

“While Sheetal is collecting the horoscopes, could we go over the house?” Sonia suggested.

“Of course. Let me lead the way.”

Pankaj took diem on a tour of his home, which was a wonder of wood and stone. Parts of it were even built of mud. Sonia’s eye observed the tiniest detail and she liked everything she saw. It was a warm old house, a perfect blend of rural charm and urban comfort. By the time they finished, it was almost lunchtime and Sheetal insisted that they have an early lunch before Sonia turned to the horoscopes.

Ganesh Pandit, Pankaj’s Secretary, joined them in the dining room. He was a short, stout, middle-aged man with square-rimmed spectacles. Sonia noticed that his hands trembled.

“I’ve specially made Konkani food. Do you eat fish?” Sheetal indicated the food served on big green banana leaves.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” Sonia replied in an apologetic tone.

Jatin smiled. “I do.”

“Good, because Kelshi has some excellent sea fish. There’s curry and fried fish here. And for you,” Sheetal turned to Sonia, “there’s bhakri and jackfruit bhaji, to be followed by rice and pithi, which is a curry of gram paste called Kulith, and, of course, our famous Solkadi—a soup of coconut milk, Kokam, and garlic!”

“Sounds wonderful! It’s really good of you to go to so much trouble…”

“It’s our pleasure! But I do hope you enjoy the meal,” Pankaj told Sonia.

“This is getting to be more like a holiday than a duty call.” The detective shook her head, glancing at Jatin from the corner of her eye. But her Assistant had already begun devouring the delicious fish.

Over the meal, Sonia made small talk with Ganesh Pandit. The secretary seemed reticent and a little reluctant to talk. But Pankaj was in a cheerful mood and Sheetal blushed and responded to her new husband’s chatter with good humour. And Tina joined in the laughter, understanding little but the fact that her parents were having a good time.

After the meal, Pankaj asked Sonia and Jatin to go ahead to the study. He and the others would follow in a few moments.

“Boss, what do you think?” Jatin asked in a low voice, once they were alone in the room.

“Good hospitality,” Sonia commented.

“That’s not what I mean, Boss, you know that.”

“But that’s all I’m going to talk about,” Sonia returned with a wink.

Jatin was a little taken aback. Sometimes he just couldn’t fathom his Boss’s psychedelic thought patterns!

The door opened and Ganesh Pandit barged in. His hasty step and the furtive glance he threw over his shoulder alerted Sonia at once.

“Miss Samarth, how do you like Kelshi?” he asked.

“It’s charming,” Sonia replied, but her tone was wary. Surely Ganesh Pandit wasn’t interested in expounding on the beauty of Kelshi.

“You haven’t seen the Mahalaxmi Temple yet. Laxmi is the goddess of wealth. And the temple is old and you must take darshan of the goddess. They say each and every wish prayed in her temple comes true!”

“Is that right? We sure can do with some money, right, Jatin?”

“Of course!”

“When you leave this house, I’ll accompany you to the temple. It would be my great pleasure to show you the temple.” The Secretary’s eyes bored into her.

“I’m sure Jatin and I would love to see the place.”

“Which place is that?” Pankaj asked, as he entered, glancing curiously from Sonia to Ganesh Pandit.

“Mahalaxmi Temple,” Ganesh offered, sounding nervous.

“Oh yes, Kelshi’s a great tourist place. Not that we have many tourists here, mercifully. Fortunately for us, this village is still a hidden treasure. But Ganesh is right. A visit to our temple is a must.”

“Will you look at my photos?” Tina asked shyly.

Surprised, Sonia took the photo album from the little girl. “Sure. Why don’t you sit beside me and tell me who is who?” She patted the seat on the sofa beside her and Tina happily joined her. Ganesh slipped out of the room unobtrusively.

Pankaj glanced at the photos in his daughter’s small hands. “Where did you find this album, Tina? I think it’s an old one.”

“In Mama’s cupboard,” the child replied.

“Don’t worry, I’ll quickly go through them, then you can show me the horoscopes.” Sonia smiled at the girl.

She chatted with Tina as she flicked through the photos, commenting casually on them and expressing interest. Pankaj watched indulgently till they had finished.

“Now run upstairs and read, Tina. I want you to complete that storybook today,” he told her.

“Okay, Daddy!”

As she ran out of the room, Sonia said, “She’s a lovely child.”

“Yes, I’m very proud of her. And I’m glad that we’ve found Sheetal to add to our love and closeness. Would you like to see the horoscopes now?”

Sonia nodded, and he handed her three booklets and a piece of paper. Pankaj, Sheetal, Ganesh Pandit— and Jeetu’s horoscope, drawn on the plain paper with his name Jeetu Veer in neat handwriting on the top of the sheet.

“And what about Tina?” Sonia asked.

“Tina’s horoscope? What does that child have to do with the antiques?” Sheetal asked as she entered the room.

“Nothing as far as I know. But there’s always a possibility of a lurking clue in any horoscope…” Sonia shrugged.

“I don’t know…” Sheetal hedged.

“It’s okay, darling.” Pankaj glanced at his wife. Turning to Sonia, he said, “Sheetal is a little too protective of Tina. I don’t see any harm in showing you Tina’s horoscope.”

“Good. By the way, what does Jeetu do?” This time, Sonia looked at Sheetal for an answer.

“He works. What was the name of his firm… ?” She frowned in concentration. “Yes, I remember. It’s Chinar Computers. He’s a Systems Analyst.”

“In Pune?”

“Yes, Jeetu thinks Pune is the centre of the IT boom in India. But he travels all round the world. He’s very ambitious, you know.” Sheetal smiled.

Pankaj was staring at his wife, his face impassive. But a muscle twitched in his cheek.

“I guess his horoscope will tell us that anyway,” Sonia said pleasantly.

For a while silence reigned, as Sonia flicked through each horoscope. Pankaj—Libra as the zodiac sign, with Gemini in the ascendant. That’s where his good looks came from… Sheetal—Sagittarius as the zodiac sign as well as ascendant. Intelligent, smart, and courageous… Jeetu—Aquarius as the zodiac, with Scorpio in the ascendant; Saturn, Harshal, and the Sun in Scorpio… Sonia paused, frowning. The wall clock ticked loudly and the sea waves lashed outside. The rain threatened to beat down any moment.

Pankaj watched the detective, a mixture of curiosity and wonder on his face. Sheetal glanced down at her hand, studying it minutely.

Jatin’s eyes flicked from one face to the other and then to his Boss, whose one finger was twirling a lock of hair. Her foot tapped. He smiled. Music was playing in her mind and her foot was involuntarily keeping beat—his Boss’s way of dealing with her Inspiration formula, in the absence of actual blaring music!

At length, Sonia glanced up and Jatin saw the gleam in her eyes. He experienced a delightful tingle of satisfaction. His Boss had stumbled onto something, he was positive of it!

But to his surprise, she quickly camouflaged the look of triumph and said, “I’d like to take these horoscopes back to my office. I need to consult some almanacs. Do you think you could part with these for a while?”

Pankaj looked visibly disappointed. “Oh, I see… Yes, of course you can take them.”

“And as soon as I’ve finished, I’ll give you a call,” Sonia promised. “And now I think we should take our leave.”

“All right.” Pankaj continued to look disappointed.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Naik. I’ve already seen as much as I need to. It’s enough to give me a lead. And I promise you, you’ll find your antiques.” She smiled confidently.

“Do you really think so?” Sheetal asked. “We’ve been so worried. I mean, apart from the fact that the statues are valuable, it doesn’t feel good that there’s a thief around us. Or that someone can carry something out of the house without our knowledge.”

“Absolutely,” Sonia assured her. “Thank you so much for your hospitality, both of you.” She spied Pankaj’s secretary in the background. “Mr. Pandit, you promised to show us the Mahalaxmi Temple. Are you coming with us?”

“Actually, I have my scooter. I’ll follow you there,” the secretary answered.

The goodbyes were said and Jatin and Sonia made their way out of the house. At the bridge, they turned. Pankaj and Sheetal still stood at the door. Tina had joined them. The little girl waved. Sonia waved back and then she and Jatin stepped onto the rickety bridge.

“It’s been two days since Sonia Samarth took the horoscopes,” Sheetal remarked.

“Hmm…” her husband grunted, preoccupied.

Pankaj and Sheetal were relaxing in a clump of trees, lying on their backs. Pankaj’s hand was flung over his eyes. Sheetal was gazing up at the sky. Tina sat beside them, playing with the sand. Rays of the sun filtered through the tall Pines. The shimmering vastness of the sea turned the waves into copper flames. The sun sank deeper over the rust-gold water.

Sheetal turned on her side to face Pankaj. “Aren’t you concerned?”

“About what?”

“I mean, you believe in this horoscope business of hers, you invited her here to find out who stole the antiques, and she seemed like a nice person. But what about the antiques? Why hasn’t she reported anything at all as yet on them?”

“She will. She seemed pretty confident. We just need to be patient,” Pankaj mumbled. He straightened suddenly. “Oh! By the way, I clean forgot! Guess who I met today in Pune?”

“Someone I know?”

“The only person you know! Jeetu!”

“Jeetu!” Sheetal turned astonished eyes on her husband. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve never met him…”

“I knew him the moment I set my eyes on him. And besides, he seemed to recognise me at once.”

“Where… where did you meet him?”

“At the racecourse.”

“Then that’s impossible. Jeetu doesn’t bet.”

“He was there with a friend. And why do I get the impression that you seem uneasy with the fact that I met him?” Pankaj shot his wife a curious glance. “Is something the matter?”

“No, of course not!” But Sheetal had turned red.

“Anyway, we got chatting, mostly about you, and guess what, I’ve asked him for dinner tomorrow!”

Sheetal stared at him in disbelief. “And he… accepted?”

“He was delighted. Said that you’d never invited him and he was simply waiting for the chance to see your home,” Pankaj reported, keenly observing the changing expressions on his wife’s face. “What’s the matter? I hope I did the right thing by calling him here. I mean, he is your good friend, isn’t he? And to be frank, he dropped such broad hints that I had no choice but to issue an invitation! I really couldn’t be rude. Not to such a good friend of yours!”

The sea had now turned silver, and the sun was just a golden curve over the horizon. In seconds, it slipped into the waters, vanishing from sight.

“At the least, it will be an interesting evening.” Sheetal grinned suddenly and Pankaj studied her flushed face with a curious glint in his eyes. She looked absolutely beautiful, with her long hair drawn up in a ponytail high above her head and her spotless complexion glowing with good health.

The weather changed and fat drops of rain began pelting down.

“Come on, Tina, pack up! Let’s run back to the house!” Pankaj commanded.

The three Naiks hastily gathered up their blanket and dashed towards the house. Within seconds, the beautiful evening had turned into a dark thunderstorm.

“Everything’s ready for the evening meal,” Sheetal informed her husband.

“Already?”

Pankaj, who was busy settling accounts at his study table, glanced up at her. She looked radiant in a white cotton Salwar Kameez.

“Yes, I didn’t want any last-minute hassles. And now I’m going for a walk with Tina. Is there anything you need?”

“No. I plan to finish these right away. Ganesh Pandit hasn’t turned up in two days. There’s no message from him, either.”

“Why don’t you replace him?”

“I know, sometimes I really do feel I ought to sack him, but he’s been with me for a year now and I’ve never had any reason to complain about him before. Besides, who else will come all the way to Kelshi? Anyway, you go have your walk, but be back in time to receive Jeetu,” he reminded lightly.

Sheetal touched his face tenderly. “You don’t need to feel jealous of him, honey. I love you and always will!”

Pankaj chuckled. “I’ll remember that!”

He watched her leave the room and was aware of the strong emotion of love in his heart. He really did love her!

An hour later, he glanced up from his accounts, to the wall clock, and frowned. Pankaj rose and gazed out of the window. The sea was faintly visible through the slanting rain. Sheetal ought to have been back ages ago, he thought. Worry began to gnaw at him. Where was she? Had she and Tina stopped somewhere and got caught in the rain? No, she wouldn’t waste time when there was a guest for dinner. Perhaps they were just huddled under some tree in the rain. He’d just go and fetch them.

Ignoring a shiver of anxiety, he pulled on his shoes and swung on a rain jacket. Carrying a torch and an umbrella, he trudged out into the dark. Half an hour later, he had not found either Sheetal or his daughter. He walked the whole stretch of the beach, struggling against the wind and rain, calling out to them till his voice had gone hoarse.

The village! They must’ve gone to the village, he thought desperately. Sheetal probably required some ingredient for dinner and had got caught in the rain! Oh, why had he mentioned the dratted Jeetu! Sheetal would probably leave no stone unturned to cook up the perfect dinner for her good friend! Dusk had fallen and his torchlight was like a beacon, penetrating a narrow path through the pelting downpour. Crossing the wooden bridge, his feet slipping dangerously over the uneven logs, he ran as fast as the rain permitted to his car. For a moment, relief swept over him. She hadn’t taken the car! On the other hand, it meant they were out there somewhere on foot, perhaps drenched and cold. Poor Tina must be terrified in the dark. He had to stop thinking of the worst! He turned the key in the ignition. He knew that he was incapable of thinking at all at the moment. All he knew was that he had to find them!

Minutes later he was at the tiny village square, which looked as inhabited as a ghost town! The shops were shuttered and the people were in their houses, as the driving rain and wind rattled wooden doors. The canals were overflowing, and for a long moment Pankaj stared in dismay at the bleak, dark landscape, his heart sinking into his boots. There was not a soul around! No one to answer his inquiries about his wife and daughter. Then a logical thought forced itself through the haze of confusion. If Sheetal was really stuck somewhere in the village, she would try to reach a phone to call him. His mobile hadn’t rung. That meant that his wife had no access to a phone. Which surely could mean that she wasn’t here in town. And which meant… Sudden bloodcurdling images flooded his brain. His heart began pounding madly.

Don’t panic, he admonished himself, in vain. Sheetal is with Tina. They are together. Very likely they strayed away farther than they intended. They’ll be back any moment. They may be at the house this very instant.

He reversed the car and drove wildly through the wet streets. He must be calm, he told himself as he parked the car and headed for the bridge. Fighting the slapping rain, he almost ran all the way back home.

“Sheetal! Tina!” he shouted, taking the steps two at a time.

But the silence inside resounded like an intruder. He must stay calm. He’d wait for a while, then he’d call the police. He sat at his study table, his head in his hands. What had happened! Where were his wife and daughter? It was totally unlike Sheetal to behave irresponsibly. They must be in trouble. Had some animal attacked them? Had they gone too far out into the sea? Freezing hands seemed to clutch his heart, squeezing it so tightly that he couldn’t breathe.

He snapped up the receiver and quickly dialled Sonia Samarth’s Office number. If there was one person who could help him, it had to be her! The line was engaged. Damn it!

At that very moment, Sonia was busy making some calls of her own. Nidhi was polishing off her evening meal of fish and cat food, while Jatin watched like an indulgent parent.

He glanced at his watch. Seven. His Boss never seemed to pack up for the day. He must bring the long working hours up in the next staff meeting. Especially since they now seemed to intrude into his hours with Naina!

Sonia replaced the receiver and the phone instantly rang.

“Hello?”

“Miss Samarth? This is Pankaj Naik,” the breathless voice said.

“What’s the matter?” Sonia asked at once.

“They’ve vanished.”

“Some more of your antiques?”

“Sheetal and Tina! I don’t know what to do. She told me they were going for a walk about two hours ago. They’re still not back! What if something terrible has happened to them?”

“Please, Pankaj, take it easy. Weren’t you supposed to be having a dinner party tonight?”

“Yes. Jeetu was supposed to come to dinner. And Sheetal seemed kind of nervous about it. I don’t like any of this at all! I don’t know what’s happening—”

“Pankaj, you must do something for me. Go to Sheetal and Tina’s rooms. Find out if their clothes are still there. And then call me back.”

“Do you mean that Sheetal’s gone off… ?” Pankaj’s voice rose an incredulous notch or two.

“Find out if the clothes are missing and ring me back,” Sonia repeated firmly.

The phone clicked and she turned to Jatin.

“Development?” he asked, with interest.

Sonia nodded. “Sheetal has vanished with the kid.”

“Vanished as in ‘willful disappearance’?” Jatin queried deliberately.

“Remains to be seen. Pankaj, of course, is already thinking the worst. He’s terrified that something’s happened to them.”

“Which could be right,” her assistant pointed out grimly. His eyes were bright with excitement.

Before Sonia could respond, however, the phone trilled again.

“Tina’s clothes are missing! What could this mean? Should we call the police?” Pankaj was now in full panic.

“What about your Secretary? Has Ganesh reported in today?”

“No, he hasn’t been in for more than two days. He isn’t even answering his phone! Is that connected? I can’t seem to think straight anymore. Tell me, is their disappearance and Ganesh’s—”

“Listen to me, Mr. Naik. Stay put. Don’t move from your house. Don’t make any calls. And above all, don’t call the police.” Sonia spoke carefully. “And give me a day. I’m going to find Sheetal and Tina. But you must stay calm, all right?”

“It’s going to be very, very tough. But I’ll try.” Pankaj sighed. “Promise you’ll give me a call the moment you hear anything!”

“Of course.”

Sonia hung up and turned to her Assistant.

“Come on, Jatin, we’ve got work to do.”

A narrow lane off the Kothrud main street led to a row of five-storied, aging buildings. The bell of the top-floor flat of the last building rang in a tune of bird chirpings. As the sound receded into the shabby house, silence reinforced itself. The bell rang again. This time, hesitant footsteps approached the door. An eye appeared at the spy-hole. Then the eye vanished, and the clicking of the latch could be heard. The door opened slowly and Sheetal peered out cautiously. Then she jerked back abruptly. But before she could shut the door again, a foot was thrust forward, jamming it open.

“What do you want!” Sheetal cried.

Sonia and Jatin stepped into the room. It was lit by a single bulb and bathed in shadows. Jatin shut the door behind him.

“Thank you for inviting us in!” Sonia remarked pleasantly.

“You forced your way in!” Sheetal accused. She was dressed in a cotton printed nightgown and her hair was scrunched untidily under a butterfly clasp.

Before Sonia could respond, a small voice called from inside. “Has Daddy come, Mama?”

“No, dear. I’ll let you know if he does. Go to sleep, okay?” Sheetal replied loudly. Then she turned accusing eyes on Sonia. “What do you want?” she hissed.

“Can we sit down?” Sonia deliberately made her way to the yellow plastic chairs which were the only furniture of the room. “Now, let’s see, where could I begin. How about with this? Jatin?”

Jatin held up a photograph. One look at it and the colour drained from Sheetal’s face.

“Where did you get it?” she demanded sharply.

“In the album Tina showed me at Kelshi.” Sonia took the photo from Jatin and studied it. Two girls were showing their tongues teasingly to the camera. One was obviously Sheetal. A much younger Sheetal.

“The other girl is Anju, isn’t she? Your best-friend since school,” Sonia stated.

Sheetal’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, my very best-friend, my soul-mate.” She stared at the uncarpeted, ceramic tile floor, refusing to look at Sonia.

“And you did all this for Tina’s sake. Or to put it legally: for the custody of your best-friend’s child!” Sonia observed the other girl minutely.

Sheetal glanced up and anger glinted in her eyes. “Yes. Anju and I grew up together in Mumbai. And even though we branched out for our studies, we never lost touch. I knew all about her boyfriends and I had even approved of Rajesh—her current boyfriend— before I went abroad to study child psychology. Later I worked on a temporary job there. That’s when Anju met Pankaj and instantly fell in love with him, sadly forgetting all about Rajesh. They married immediately. I was so surprised. But it was a mistake. Even though perhaps he loved her in his own way, Pankaj neglected her. He worked late and drove her to frustration. Anju often sent me emails of how Pankaj missed dinners and trips, how he arrived in the middle of the night and left before dawn sometimes. She did her best to please him. Poor Anju, what a lonely life she led! I think it was this desperate need to draw his attention to her that made her race with him that evening. They were trying out Pankaj’s new car, when Anju declared that she preferred the old one. And to prove a point, as much as to attract Pankaj, she began racing. The car went straight over the cliff!

“It was a terrible and unfortunate accident and it shocked her parents and me. It was then that they decided that they must get custody of little Tina. They knew that Pankaj would have a problem finding time for a demanding child like Tina, but they knew, too, that he would never willfully give the child away. Certainly not to Anju’s parents, who made no secret of the fact that they hated Pankaj’s guts. They blamed him for Anju’s death and they fought him in court for Tina’s custody. But tragically, Pankaj won the case. It was then that I hatched my little plan. I was ready to do anything for my best-friend’s daughter. I intended to raise her as my own. Luckily for me, Pankaj advertised for a Governess and I snatched at the opportunity and landed at Kelshi as Tina’s Governess!”

Horoscope of Sheetal

II SHREE II

THE HOROSCOPE TRAP—HOROSCOPE OF SHEETAL

Born on 19th April, 11.30 p.m.

Zodiac Sign—Sagittarius

Ascendant—Sagittarius

Moon in Sagittarius, in the 1st House

Venus in Pisces, in the 4th House

Ketu, Mercury, Sun and Jupiter in Aries,

in the 5th House

Mars in Gemini, in the 7th House

Saturn in Cancer, in the 8th House

Rahu and Harshal in Libra, in the 11th House

Neptune in Scorpio, in the 12th House

“That’s when you created a fictitious character called Jeetu to make Pankaj fall in love with you,” Sonia interjected.

“How did you guess?” Sheetal looked amazed.

“The horoscope you gave me was a dead giveaway. I knew instantly that no such person existed. It was blatantly obvious from the way the horoscope was drawn. Even so, I double-checked if such a person existed. As it turned out, there is no Jeetu Veer and no Chinar Computers in Pune! In fact, it was on my advice that yesterday Pankaj informed you that he had met Jeetu and that he had invited him for dinner.”

“You told him?”

“I had to. He was concerned enough without the tag of jealousy making it worse. Besides, I hoped that it would goad you to take some drastic action. I was right.”

“Yes, you were right. I was astonished when Pankaj told me that he’d met Jeetu. I decided that there was some mistake or that he’d met some guy who happened to have the same name. But I couldn’t wait to find out. I had to leave with Tina immediately. Had there been an easier way to break the truth to Pankaj, I would’ve done it. But there was no time, and anyway, he knows now…”

“Yes, he does.”

“So now what? You can’t do a thing. I’m officially married to Pankaj and I can keep Tina with me if I want to. She’s my daughter now. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Except kidnap Pankaj’s child and try to keep a daughter away from her father. Which is nothing short of a crime. And even though she’s too young to understand it right now, Tina won’t thank you for it when she grows up,” Sonia reasoned.

“She’ll understand. I’ll be a good mother to her. And eventually she’ll forget everything. Her grandparents and I will see to that,” Sheetal said grimly. “Actually, I didn’t plan for it to go this far. I was going to leave immediately after the marriage ceremony. So that it would have been easier for him. I would have, but for…” She paused abruptly.

“But for your love for Pankaj? You love Pankaj, don’t you? Despite everything?” Sonia supplied softly.

Sheetal looked almost mortified. “I fought the feeling real hard, but I couldn’t help it. Before I knew it, I was in love with him and I was horrified at myself. In love with Anju’s husband, the man who had treated her so shabbily! If she hadn’t married him, she wouldn’t have been miserable. She wouldn’t have been in that car, racing him, and she wouldn’t be dead now! That was what I had to remember! And that was what I did remember ultimately. And now I’m safe, with Tina. I’ll go far away from here. Even go abroad. No one can stop me!” The iron determination in her voice made Sonia shake her head.

How could she ever make Sheetal change her mind? she wondered. Life wasn’t always that simple. You couldn’t just take somebody’s child—even if it was in the child’s best interest—and move on. Sonia had to make her see sense. She had to make her change her mind.

“Sheetal,” Sonia began carefully. “What if I told you that you needn’t kidnap Tina for custody? That there’s a much more legal answer to it?”

“I wouldn’t believe you,” Sheetal replied instantly, but a mixture of wariness and curiosity flared in her eyes.

“You’ll believe it, if you hear me out. You probably are even aware of it.” The detective treaded cautiously.

The other woman stared at her with a contemplative look. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely!”

Sheetal folded her hands. “Okay, tell me, how can I gain legal custody of Tina?”

The rain had merged into the sea and the sand, clearing the sky for the glow of the sinking sun. The sea rippled like a magnificent rust-gold satin sari. A boat sailed by, its flag flapping in the strong wind. Pankaj sat in his garden, under a Coconut tree, a rock of loneliness lodged in his heart. Everything had to end. All the good things in life. Sheetal had been good for him. But it had to end. That was his destiny. He closed his eyes, weighed down by a wave of sadness. When he reopened them, Sheetal stood at the gate. No, he was dreaming. He shut his eyes hastily, to close off the image. But when he opened them, she still stood there. In her red T-shirt and jeans.

“Sheetal!” he exclaimed, rising eagerly.

But the strange look on her face made him halt in his tracks. She raised her hand. She held a pistol, pointed straight at him. Blood froze instantly in his veins.

“What…what do you think you’re doing?” he cried.

“I’m avenging the death of my best-friend. You killed Anju, didn’t you? You killed her, you rat!” she shouted with venom in her voice.

“You’re crazy! I didn’t kill Anju. She died in a car accident!”

“A car accident!” Sheetal laughed sarcastically. “That’s not what Rajesh, Anju’s good friend, told the police. He said he was convinced that you’d killed her!”

“Rajesh hated me. He was in love with Anju just as I was. I adored her. You have no idea how much I suffered after she died. Anju meant everything to me. But that’s in the past. I don’t want to talk about her. It’s you who mean everything to me now, Sheetal. You’re precious to me. Where have you been? And where’s Tina?” He took a step towards her.

“Tina’s my daughter now. And I shall never allow her to live with a guy who killed her mother. She’ll know the truth one day and she’ll hate you, she’ll— Ouch!”

In a flash Pankaj had grabbed the pistol from her hands. He shoved her hard, sending her sprawling to the ground. Cold fury distorted his handsome features as he aimed her own pistol straight at Sheetal. “No, Tina will not hate me, because she’ll never know what happened. You will not tell her, because you’re not going to live to tell her anything. And if it pleases you to hear it, yes, I did kill Anju.”“

Sheetal gasped as she crouched at his feet. Fear and horror eclipsed all rational thought.

“I killed her because she was so full of Rajesh, her old boyfriend. She was still in touch with him, even after our marriage, and I suspected all along that she had never given him up. She wrote to him, talked to him on the phone. She ran to him with every grievance against me. It made me mad with jealousy. I couldn’t live like that. I had to put an end to it. And I did. I planned it all. I cut the brakes of her car. And she fell for the trap and drove straight off the cliff! I hated myself for doing it. But there was no other way. She had betrayed me. She had to pay the price for it!”

“Rajesh was just a good friend of hers. Anju wrote to me just as she wrote to him! You killed an innocent woman, you monster!” Sheetal cried.

“That’s in the past. But you are my present. And now you will die, too. You know too much and you introduced Jeetu into our lives. And even though now I know that no such person exists, I also know that I can never trust you again! Goodbye, Sheetal. I did love you, you know.”

He gave her a long sad look. Then he pulled the trigger. Sheetal closed her eyes. Nothing happened! Startled, Pankaj began examining the pistol, as Sheetal burst into tears.

“Pankaj, you are arrested for the murder of your first wife, Anju, and for the attempted murder of your present wife, Sheetal!” The booming voice of Inspector Divekar rang out.

With a gasp, Pankaj stared at the imposing figure of the Inspector. Sonia, Jatin, and Ganesh Pandit stood behind him. Sonia shot him a look of contempt, before she bent towards Sheetal to comfort her.

“It wasn’t easy. In fact, it was a terrible risk,” Sonia confessed.

Nidhi opened her eyes and flashed a bored look at the usual group gathered in the office, before curling up in her Mistress’s lap again. Something told her that she wouldn’t have a very peaceful nap.

“You have to take risks in our line, beti,” Inspector Divekar admitted.

“But, Boss, we were called to Kelshi to hunt out stolen antiques! What happened to them?” Jatin appeared bewildered.

“Nothing happened to them, Jatin. There were never any statues stolen. That was just a story concocted by Pankaj to lure us to Kelshi,” Sonia remarked.

“But why?”

“Pankaj was extremely jealous of Jeetu and he wanted to find out all he could about the guy—”

“He could’ve hired any detective for that,” Jatin interrupted.

“Who would’ve told him only the bare facts of Jeetu’s life. Nothing of his psychology. Nor of his innermost desires. And certainly nothing about his feelings for Pankaj’s wife!”

“Which you could,” Inspector Divekar interposed.

“Exactly. In the role of an Astrologer, I certainly could. But Pankaj knew that he had to create a reason to get me to Kelshi and, more important, a reason for Sheetal to produce Jeetu’s horoscope. She was obviously reluctant, but didn’t you see how insistent he was? When we did go to Kelshi, I sensed immediately that Pankaj lacked the drive and the worry for the loss of his antiques. And that instead he was most keen on reading Jeetu’s horoscope. At that point, of course, I didn’t allow my observations to sway my judgement. But when I examined the statues in the cupboard, I noticed that they hadn’t been removed in a long time. And more interestingly, there were only five marks of five statues. Where were the marks of the two statues he claimed had been stolen? That really set me thinking. What if there were no marks, because there were no statues. And if that was true, why had Pankaj really called us to Kelshi?

“Matters were further complicated when I read the horoscopes. I saw some complexities in Sheetal’s horoscope. Sagittarius as the zodiac as well as the ascendant showed her to be a dynamic person. But Sun and Harshal were in opposition, indicating dramatic developments in relation to her spouse. Saturn in the eighth house aspected the Sun, showing that Sheetal’s marriage would give her no happiness. On the other hand, Pankaj’s horoscope revealed definite criminal traits. Ketu in Gemini is the first house, Mars aspecting the ascendant by the fourth house and Moon by the eighth house clearly revealed him to be possessive, a jealous man with an imbalanced mind. And most important, Rahu, Harshal, and Neptune in the seventh house showed the strange, sudden death of his wife. Both their horoscopes really set me thinking.

“But it was Jeetu’s horoscope which really clinched the matter. I realised at once that his horoscope was a fake. As per the natal chart given by Sheetal, Harshal, Sun, and Saturn were in Scorpio in the first house. It doesn’t take a veteran to notice that the planets were all placed in odd houses. As per Jeetu’s birth year, Harshal ought to have been in the twelfth house with Libra; and the Sun and Saturn in Leo in the fifth house, in conjunction with Jupiter, Mercury, and Rahu. That was enough for me to grasp the significance of the whole issue. There were three reasons why Sheetal would provide such a horoscope. One, that Jeetu had deliberately given her a false horoscope; two, that Sheetal had deliberately given me the wrong one; and three, that she gave me a concocted horoscope because Jeetu too, was concocted! Of course, I had to go back to the office, look up almanacs for verification, and do some research work. And two more incidents occurred. By mistake Tina showed me Anju’s old photo album. There I discovered Sheetal’s photo with Pankaj’s first wife. And Ganesh Pandit insisted on showing us the Mahalaxmi Temple.”

“What did he tell you when he took you on a tour of the temple?” Jatin asked.

“When Ganesh Pandit narrated his suspicions that Pankaj had murdered his first wife, I wasn’t too surprised. And I couldn’t disregard his suspicions, because for some reason I had begun to suspect something much bigger than a theft had happened at Kelshi. It was clear that Jeetu was a figment of Sheetal’s imagination. But the question was—why had she created this character? And why had she kept the fact of her friendship with Anju hidden from her husband? What game was she playing and how serious was it? I had to find out. And there was only one way to do it. Force Sheetal to take action, so that we could discover her plan. So I told Pankaj the truth about Jeetu and suggested he tell Sheetal that her friend Jeetu had been invited to dinner. That galvanised Sheetal. She vanished with Tina. After that, it wasn’t difficult to trace Anju’s parents, who voiced their private fears of their daughter’s tragic death. They had told the Police of their suspicions, but they had no proof whatsoever. The Police ruled it an accident, clearing Pankaj of all suspicion. But her parents had hated the guy, holding him responsible in their hearts and minds. After losing the custody battle for Tina, they encouraged Sheetal in her plan for custody. Sheetal was very aware of their suspicions, but since nothing had been proved, she couldn’t know for sure if he had indeed killed her friend. Pankaj’s horoscope revealed very surprising criminal traits and the accusations against him were strong. The two could only be linked with proof, which no one had. The plan of action was crystal clear in my mind. Provided, of course, that Sheetal complied. She was more than horrified at the thought that Pankaj could actually be a killer. It was hard for her, because she was in love with that guy. Just as Anju had been. But at last she agreed. She wanted to find out, once and for all, if he was indeed a murderer. She was ready for the truth. And the rest we all know!”

“Pankaj reacted exactly the way you predicted,” Jatin agreed, admiration in his eyes.

“Right. He walked straight into our trap, admitting to the killing of his wife.” Inspector Divekar grinned. “Though that was some dramatic scene from a film!”

“Sheetal’s fear and her horror were real,” Sonia replied soberly. “I really admired her for her courage.”

“But, Boss, the pistol had no bullets in it! What did she have to fear?”

“I wasn’t talking about that kind of fear, Jatin. It was more the fear of discovering that your worst nightmare had come true. That the man you love is nothing but a deadly murderer! And that ugly fact indisputably closed all doors to any thought of a possible future together, even for the sake of their daughter!”

“Anyway, the pistol Inspector Divekar gave you came into good use, didn’t it?” Jatin flashed a smile at the Inspector.

“You bet!” Sonia laughed. “What do you think, Uncle?”

“Not bad. But I’ll be happier if you stop using it as a decorative item in your theatricals and keep it handy for serious situations!” But Uncle Jeevan was smiling fondly. “Anyway, I must be off. Good job, Sonia. But remember what I said: Start your lessons.”

“Soon,” the detective promised.

Sonia relaxed against her chair, a contemplative look on her face and one hand caressing the cat’s silky body.

“It’s all right, Boss. You don’t have to worry about Sheetal.” Jatin spoke gently.

Sonia glanced at her assistant in genuine surprise. His perceptiveness moved her. This was a noticeable change, induced no doubt by the presence of his lady love, Naina. The girl must be a good soul, after all!

“She’ll be fine,” Jatin continued. “She’s living with Anju’s parents at the moment, isn’t she?”

Sonia nodded. “You’re right. She’ll learn to accept and then they’ll all move on.”

“Besides, Boss, a case is a case. No point getting your sentiments tangled with those of each and every person you come across, right? Just like a Doctor. Never get involved with your patients. That’s what I’ve been trying to drill into you all along. But you never seem to grasp the basics of investigation. Cold professionalism. Detachment. A clean cut from all emotions. No bonding and no—”

“Got it!” Sonia interrupted. And she’d thought that he was changing! The prospect was clearly as hopeless as checking weight every day on the weighing scale in the hope of discovering that your weight had reduced! She sighed. “Don’t you have a cricket match to watch on TV?”

Jatin jumped up from his seat. “Gosh! How could I forget? You’ll have to excuse me for the next hour, Boss!”

“Take the day off,” she told him grandly, and expelled a sigh of gratitude.

Horoscope of Naina

II SHREE II

CHECK MATE—HOROSCOPE OF NAINA

Born on 26th May, 4.30 p.m.

Zodiac Sign—Libra

Ascendant—Libra

Moon in Libra, in the 1st House

Neptune in Scorpio, in the 2nd House

Jupiter in Sagittarius, in the 3rd House

Rahu in Capricorn, in the 4th House

Mercury, Saturn and Sun in Taurus,

in the 8th House

Mars and Venus in Gemini, in the 9th House

Ketu in Cancer, in the 10th House

Harshal in Virgo, in the 12th House

6

Check-Mate

The rain had defied all weather forecasts! It had fallen relentlessly through August and into September. The rivers were overflowing and the government even considered a flood situation. Not that it had affected the Ganesh festival season even an iota, Sonia realised as she slowed her van for a hasty view of the community Ganapati on its stage. The huge stage, jutting out onto the road, almost blocking traffic (which no one seemed to mind), boasted a scene from the epic Mahabhamta with elaborately constructed and decorated, life-size statues, which moved in a circle around the stage. On the left, the idol of the god Ganesh sat with garlands around his neck. Loudspeakers blared a story explaining the set. Sonia knew that she would find more of these fascinating, lavish stages around the corner of each street in the days to come.

The ten-day Ganpati—Ganesh—festival had begun, despite the torrents, with a bang. As per the ritual, Hindu families bought Ganesh clay or plaster idols and carried them to their houses with noisy fanfare and devotion. They worshipped him for ten days and then immersed the idol in the river on the eleventh day.

Sonia admired the scene one last time, then accelerated the car, only to be stopped by a traffic signal. It was five in the evening and she had better hurry, but she couldn’t help indulging in quick pauses to admire the numerous dekbave—the picturesque exhibition of statues. It was the first day of Ganapati, but already the festive air was infectious. People, oblivious to the rain, carried idols of myriad sizes in their hands, shouting in chorus “Ganapati Baapa Morya!” Sonia marvelled at their enthusiasm, which not even the ceaseless rain seemed to dampen. Fortunately, the Samarths had a permanent statue of Lord Ganesh in their neat bungalow. They bought a miniature for the ritual immersion of the idol at the festival’s end. Earlier in the day, Sonia and her parents had performed pooja—the idol-worship rites—and now, in the evening, Mohnish, Jatin, and Naina were dropping by for aarti—musical prayers specially sung in honour of the Lord—and for prasaad—food offered to the idol.

Sonia smiled as she remembered the promise her mother had elicited from her that morning.

“No chasing criminals and no solving cases for ten days,” Mrs. Samarth had insisted, as she had set the pressure cooker for a fresh batch of sweet modaks. They were in the kitchen, a big room designed per Mrs. Samarth’s special requirements. Since Sonia very rarely attempted to cook anything more ambitious than a cup of chai, she was more than glad to allow her mother to reign in the kitchen. Which she did. Despite her busy schedule at the office, somehow Mrs. Samarth always found the time to cook special meals for the family!

“No cases,” Sonia had agreed.

“And you will do pooja every day.”

“Well…”

“Ganapati is a God of all Gods! He removes all obstacles,” Mrs. Samarth reminded her. Draped in a pure silk, blue-bordered sari, and with her shoulder-length wavy hair, she usually passed off as Sonia’s elder sister. She was pretty, even wearing a red-checked apron and a smudge of flour on her face. Sonia was very proud of her mother’s youthful good looks.

But it was unusual for her mother to insist on religious rituals. The Samarths had always practised religion quietly, without much fuss. What was so different this festival? Sonia wondered.

“Lord Ganesh has a place of honour in each house.” Mrs. Samarth turned to study her daughter. “All new activities have to begin with his blessings. He not only removes all obstacles, but he also protects his worshippers!”

“I know that, Mom! I believe in Ganapati and in pooja!”

“I’m glad.” Mrs. Samarth moved a fond hand over her daughter’s head. “I want him to protect you and take care of you. Specially in the profession you’ve chosen. Your father and I worry a lot about you.”

Sonia gave her mother a quick impulsive hug. “You don’t have to worry about me, Mom. I’ve never taken undue risks. Besides, you and Dad have a lot on your plate handling the family business. I’m just enjoying life, doing what I like.”

Mrs. Samarth smiled. “Just be careful, okay? And do pooja for these ten days.”

“Right, Mom!”

Now, as Sonia waited for the red signal to turn green, she smiled. Dear Mom and Dad. They had really stood by her, through all her decisions, respecting her choices. Through her childhood, despite the tragedy in their house, they had never ever smothered her with protection, as would have been the natural tendency. Instead, they had given her enough rope and freedom to pursue life on her terms. She had a lot to thank God for, Sonia thought gratefully.

A tap on the right window of the van interrupted her flow of thoughts. A hideous, ugly face was gazing at her. Small wild eyes and an unkempt beard peered through a grubby white sheet which was wound around his head. Water dripped in rivulets from his grubby, unclean face and the sheet slipped to reveal a mass of hair in knotty dreadlocks. His head twitched, involuntarily. But it was not his looks that sent a chill down the detective’s back. It was the expression in his eyes. Mean, very nearly malevolent. A dirty hand was thrust forward.

“Paisa do maaye!”—Give me money, O mother!— he whined.

Sonia almost shrank back, an involuntary shiver of fear running down her back. Impulsively, Sonia began winding up the window.

The beggar began uttering a slew of bad words, shaking his fist at her and spitting on the pavement, his head twitching violently. Fortunately, the signal turned green and Sonia raced forward, her only thought being to escape the foul language and manner of the beggar. Only when she had safely neared her house did she brake the van to a halt, her heart thumping. What in heavens had come over her? Why had a beggar incited such strong emotions in her? But something about that man was so evil… Sonia took a deep, steadying breath. It was just a random encounter. But she didn’t want to relive that choking shock again. As her heartbeat returned to normal, she almost smiled at herself. Sonia Samarth, the hardcore detective, had felt threatened by a mere beggar! It was a good thing Jatin had not witnessed this episode. She would never have heard the last of it!

Sukhakarata Dukhaharata Warta Vighnachi… The arati sung in chorus, accompanied by a tinkling bell and the clapping of hands, filled the Samarth home with a pious air. The scent of joss sticks and fresh flowers mingled with the aroma of offerings of a fresh batch of modaks—a sweet dish made of coconut and jaggery, stuffed in rice-flour jackets in the shape of small, domed crowns—said to be Ganapti’s favourite sweet dish. Mr. Samarth, dignified in a crisp white kurta pyjama, held a plate on which rested a lit oil lamp. He circulated his hand with the rhythm of the arati. As the prayer ended, everyone chorused, “Ganapati Bappa Morya!” as a salutation to Lord Ganesh. Then Sonia took the lamp from her father and passed it to each of their guests. Mohnish smiled at her and moved a hand over the flame, then his hand to his eyes reverently. Jatin and Naina did the same. Last, she took the lamp to her parents, then placed the plate before the elaborately decorated three-foot-high statue of Ganesh. Kneeling, she touched first the idol’s feet and then her parents’ feet in reverence.

“Come along,” Mrs. Samarth welcomed the others.

Sonia watched, a little amused, as Jatin fumbled in his pocket and dropped a five rupee coin near the statue. Naina followed, kneeling beside the statue, closing her eyes, and praying silently. She really was a very pretty girl, Sonia thought for the umpteenth time. Naina opened her eyes, drew a hundred rupee note from her purse, and placed it at the foot of the idol. Sonia opened her mouth to protest, but quickly shut it again. What if she hurt the girl’s feelings with her objections? She had no right to dictate the amount, though there was no compulsion that you had to place money. It was a matter of personal choice and faith. As Naina rose, Mohnish followed suit and, kneeling, showered turmeric and red powder on the idol, and a jhendu—marigold—flower, along with a betel leaf and a ten rupee note.

“Now let’s all have modaks!” Mrs. Samarth announced, and steaming hot modaks were served with plenty of ghee.

As they all settled in the hall and tucked into the delicious sweet, Sonia glanced around the gathering. Her parents, on the right side of the plush red sofa, were commenting on the Ganesh rituals and the monsoons. Jatin, in a flamboyant black leather jacket, and Naina, in a zari-bordered red Salwar Kameez, looked more like a couple with every passing day. And bang opposite her sat Mohnish. He wore a moss-green T-shirt over a pair of dark blue trousers and he looked as handsome as ever. He responded politely to Mr. Samarth’s remarks and once again, suddenly, Sonia felt blessed. Truly blessed. Her parents liked Mohnish and they had hinted more than once at a more serious relationship between them. Which of course Sonia had denied. But as she watched him laughing good-naturedly at a joke Jatin had cracked, she had to admit that she certainly wasn’t indifferent to Mohnish. On the contrary, she was positively and definitely drawn to him.

“What do you think, Sonia?” Mrs. Samarth cut into her thoughts.

“About what?” She jerked out of her trance guiltily.

“Boss hasn’t been listening,” Jatin accused. “She’s been staring at Mohnish!”

“Jatin! You’re impossible!” Sonia exclaimed, blushing furiously. Subtlety was never her Assistant’s best quality.

Mohnish laughed, his dimple staging an appearance as he turned a full, interested gaze on poor Sonia. “Is that right?” He quirked an eyebrow.

Mr. and Mrs. Samarth passed each other quick, amused glances.

“Soniaji, can I have some water?” Naina’s sweet voice broke into the awkward silence, changing the focus of the conversation.

Sonia threw her a grateful look and rose immediately. As she walked towards the kitchen, she was very aware of five pairs of curious eyes watching her.

The fountain sprouted colourful illuminated jets of water against the dark night, dancing in rhythm to a popular Hindi film song. Jatin and Naina watched the colourful display of water antics, their feet tapping with the music. Behind the fountain, on a raised stage, rose a big idol of Ganesh, heavily garlanded. Crowds passed by, idly watching the kaleidoscopic jets of water, then moved on with their families to watch the other dekhave. As the song ended, Jatin and Naina clapped spontaneously, then slowly strolled down the street.

Fortunately, the rain had stopped for a couple of hours and everyone was taking advantage of the respite.

“Have you enjoyed working for Stellar Investigations?” Naina asked Jatin.

Jatin kicked a stone on the road. “They’ve been the two most rewarding years of my life!” he confessed.

“Really?”

“Boss is amazing. I mean as a person. As a detective, she’s exceptional.”

“And as a Boss?”

“Well, there’s room for improvement!” He grinned cheekily.

“Come on! I’m sure she must be an ideal Boss!”

“What do you know about it?” Jatin frowned.

“It’s not too difficult to deduce. Which Boss would allow her assistant to go off on dates in the middle of working hours?”

Jatin was silent.

“And who would give her assistant a mobile for Christmas?” Naina asked. “And she’s given you these ten festival days to do as you please, while you both stay off cases, giving you—”

“Plenty of time to get to know you!” he completed with a twinkle in his eyes. “I admit it. Sonia Samarth is the best Boss anyone could ever have! Now, let’s talk about us. You’re looking like an angel tonight,” he continued.

Naina blushed. “You pay me far too many compliments.”

“Every one of which you deserve,” he replied gallantly.

They turned onto F.C.Road, holding hands. Crowds jostled, even at that late hour. It seemed as if half of Pune was out on the streets enjoying the Ganapti dekhave set up by the community groups called Mandals. Some of the Mandals ranged back almost a hundred years, in keeping with the age-old tradition of celebrating the birth of Lord Ganesh.

“Do you like Masala Dosas?”“ Naina asked suddenly.

“I love them! It’s my favourite South Indian dish,” Jatin declared. Then he stopped. “Why don’t we have one right now? There’s my usual haunt.”

He pointed out a cart, on which a stove heated up a huge flat-iron tava. A man dressed in white overalls was busy laying out dosas, while his customers hung around patiently. Plastic chairs were set on the pavement for the tired and the old.

“Only if the treat is on me,” Naina remarked.

“No problem. It’s very cheap anyway.” Jatin led her to the cart. “Hello, Shettychacha, sagah theek aahey na—everything okay?”

“Uttam! Excellent!” Shettychacha acknowledged, wiping a kerchief over his dark, sweaty face. His oiled hair was well plastered in a side parting. “What will you have?”

“Two crisp dosas, please!”

“Give me five minutes.” Shettychacha nodded, indicating the chairs with his hand.

Jatin watched as Shettychacha quickly sprinkled water over the heated tava. He put semi-liquid, pasty rice dough into a rati—a small steel bowl—and dropped the rice platter on the tava. Then, using the back of the vati, he deftly flattened the dough on the tava. The thin layer of dough set and sizzled, browning in seconds. A blob of potato subji was placed in the centre of the platter and both the ends of the dosa were curved into a roll. The smell of the dish filled the night rain-laden air. Jatin loved the whole process. He knew it was an art. He could never take his eyes off the quick expert movements. The timing, the circular hand movements—everything had to be perfect.

Naina watched Jatin in amusement.

“Do you know what I like about you?” she asked softly.

Jatin raised an eyebrow as Shettychacha’s assistant handed them two dosa plates served with chutney.

“Did you actually say you like something about me?” he prompted.

“Actually I like lots of things about you!” Naina laughed. “One of them being your interest in life. You are so interested in everything. I’ve never seen anyone look at a dosa preparation with so much rapt attention!”

“It’s fascinating,” Jatin said, a trifle defensively.

“Yes, but only when you sit down and think about it. And there are loads of other fascinating things, too, which not a soul may have given a thought to. But I’m sure you would. And that’s what I really like about you. Your eye for detail.”

His pleasure at her words was overcome by a very strong feeling of surprise and disbelief. “You really feel that way about me?”

She nodded.

“Thank you! No one has ever paid me such a sincere compliment before. Not even Boss!” He felt as if he were treading on air.

For a moment, they stared at each other, the dosas forgotten. The night chatter swirled around them; so did the bustling crowds, the clinking of the tava, and the scraping of chairs. Someone nudged Naina’s chair in the passing and she snapped out of her gazing and blushed.

“It’s getting late. We better eat fast and leave,” she murmured.

Jatin nodded and the next few minutes were busy, as they polished off the mouthwatering dosas. But his heart was thumping so loudly, he was certain Naina would hear it. He was finally making definite headway with her and the thrill of the thought made his stomach clench.

Naina finished first. She dug into her purse and took out a fifty rupee note, handing it to Jatin.

Rising, Jatin commented on the excellent dosas, handed Shettychacha the money, and bid him goodbye. Then, completely satiated, they walked down the street again.

“Jatin, I want to thank you for taking me to Soniaji’s house today. I shall never forget the experience.”

“She insisted that I bring you along.”

“She’s so different from Priyadidi. I wish my sister were more like Soniaji. Understanding, caring.” Suddenly Naina glanced at her watch. “Ten! Oh God! What will Priyadidi say!”

She looked so panicked that Jatin took her by the shoulders. “Hey, relax! You’re a big girl now. And I’m here to take care of you!”

“It’s not that! You don’t know Priya. My sister’s… well, she’s different. Irritable, easily excited. Let’s get home!”

Naina quickened her steps and Jatin watched helplessly as she raised a hand to hail an auto.

“Where have you been!” Priya’s lined face was distorted with anger. Dressed in a brown wraparound, her hair piled on her head with a butterfly clasp, she looked towering and dominating. “Do you know what time it is? It’s the first day of Ganapati and you couldn’t care less! You know there’s no maid in the house and I have to do all the housework. But you don’t care, do you?”

“ Priyadidi, please…” Naina began.

“Don’t say a word! You ought to be here helping me out, instead—”

“Look, let me explain,” Jatin cut in hastily. He was partly annoyed and partly taken aback by Priya’s reaction. She was being most melodramatic, throwing her weight around needlessly.

“You!” Priya turned on him and pointed an accusing finger. “Don’t you know better than to be out with a girl this late in the night? What will the neighbours say? Our parents may be dead, but we have been raised in a decent, respectable family! Don’t you dare spoil that reputation!” Priya’s bony body shook with fury.

“ Priyadidi, don’t say a word to Jatin! It’s not his fault!” Naina exclaimed.

“Of course not!” Priya lashed out. “It’s your fault, Naina. You are a selfish, insensitive girl, who cannot think beyond a few good dates!”

Naina looked stunned, as if she were slapped. Hot tears sprang up in her eyes. Suddenly she clutched her chest and then her throat. Her breathing seemed to halt. She turned desperately to Jatin.

“Oh God! She’s got an asthma attack!” Priya screamed. Immediately her anger dissolved as she rushed to open her sister’s purse for the inhaler. She fumbled with it. “It’s not working!”

Jatin watched, shocked, as Naina fell on the sofa, her breathing laboured. Priya thrust some money into his hand.

“Please, please—there’s a medical store next door. Run and get an inhaler!”

Jatin nodded and sped out. His heart beat frantically. Naina had warned him that she got these asthma attacks when she was excited or hurt. But this was the first time he had witnessed one. And what a horrifying experience it was! Poor Naina. What a terrible thing to happen to her. He found the pharmacy, quickly bought the inhaler, and raced back to the house. Priya grabbed the inhaler and thrust it into her sister’s hand, who clutched it gratefully. Jatin watched, the feeling of helplessness easing, as her breathing returned to normal. Only then did he realise that he had been holding his own breath. He slumped into a seat, shaken to the core.

“Boss, I need your help.”

Sonia was in the outer office, putting flowers on the small Ganesh idol which had a permanent home on a brown glass shelf. Nidhi was chasing a marigold blossom round the room, tossing it high with her front paw and then running after it. Sonia clasped her palms together in reverence, then turned to face her assistant.

“Help? But you’ve already found the girl of your dreams!” She smiled as she moved to the inner office. Nidhi instantly lost interest in the flower and meowed after her. The moment Sonia settled in her chair, the cat jumped onto the table, sniffing the air. Sonia extracted a modak wrapped in a newspaper from her handbag and placed it before the cat. Within seconds, the sweet had been gulped down. Then, purring in contentment, Nidhi jumped into her mistress’s lap and curled up.

“I’m serious, Boss, I need advice.” Jatin spoke gravely.

“What’s up?” Sonia asked, instantly concerned.

“It’s Naina. She’s a wonderful girl. Sweet-natured and intelligent. But she has a sister, Priya, who is a nightmare!”

Jatin briefly narrated the previous night’s episode. The horror of his girl-friend’s asthma attack still made the goose pimples rise on his arm.

“Sounds like she’s one stressed-out sister what with no maid and a pile of housework to dig through. Maybe there’s some sense in her argument,” Sonia suggested.

“Perhaps. But it’s the manner in which she speaks. Harsh words, uncaring and insensitive. As if she doesn’t give a damn about her sister. And it brings on Naina’s asthma attacks. That’s not a good thing to happen.”

“I agree with you. Did you say that their parents died early?”

“Naina barely remembers them. They died in a plane crash when she was only seven. Priya, who is almost eight years older, raised her on her own. They are very rich, I believe, and they have a huge house on Mumbai-Pune highway. But it’s a dilapidated structure now. Priya has done nothing to maintain it. Naina keeps telling her to do some repairs, but she has a tight hold over the family income, which is all tied up in trusts. She has a tight hold over Naina, too. In fact, Naina is positively terrified of her and I don’t like it at all!”

“With such a big age gap, I wouldn’t be surprised if Priya treated her younger sister more like a daughter. Isn’t she married?”

“No. And I don’t think that she ever will marry!” Jatin spoke in dismay.

“But Naina will,” Sonia pointed out.

“If she is allowed to,” he retorted glumly.

“Come on! Priya is not Naina’s enemy. She wouldn’t want her sister to remain a spinster like her!”

“I hope not.”

“Cheer up, Jatin. Those two do get along, don’t they? I mean, have you not seen them on friendly terms at all?”

Jatin nodded, a little reluctantly. “But I don’t trust Priya. I just have this gut instinct about her. She’s like a volcano ready to erupt. And I hate the fact that Naina has to put up with her temper tantrums. Especially since they make Naina so ill.”

Jatin began pacing the floor. Nidhi peered at him from Sonia’s lap, then, disinterested, resumed her beauty nap.

“You’re really worried, aren’t you?”

“Boss, you should’ve seen what I saw yesterday. It was frightening. It was a good thing that chemist was open… I can’t imagine what would’ve happened otherwise.”

“She’s taking treatment for her asthma, I hope.”

Jatin nodded.

“Tell me something, Jatin, does Priya approve of you?”

“I guess so. I mean, she hasn’t really objected to my dropping over, and generally she’s quite polite. But the two of them argue a lot and I don’t think it’s healthy. In fact, it is downright risky for Naina, if last night was anything to go by. What do I do, Boss?” He stopped pacing, dismay and frustration stamped on his face.

“I don’t think there’s much you can do about it, Jatin. You cannot protect Naina twenty-four hours a day and, anyway, she wouldn’t want you to.”

“Boss, can’t you go over their horoscopes and tell me if this situation will persist? I mean, you can forecast if the two sisters will get along, can’t you? And predict when Naina will get married…” He blushed.

“Oh-oh.” Sonia smiled, amused. “Now I can see where you’re going.”

Jatin shrugged, abashed, tongue-tied for the first time in his life.

In a more grave tone, Sonia asked, “You seem very serious about her, Jatin. Are you serious enough to consider marriage?”

“Not right away, of course. I need more time, but ultimately, yes.”

Sonia studied her young Assistant, looking so boyish and eager. And yet she could see the growing maturity in him.

“Get their horoscopes. I’ll see what I can read in them. But be prepared to hear the worst along with the good!”

“Thank you, Boss!” Jatin almost jumped in joy. “And now I’m going to serve you hot chai!”

He sailed out of the room, whistling merrily, and Sonia smiled. Love certainly did change people.

“I really do have to apologise for my behaviour the other night.” Priya spoke with genuine guilt in her voice.

Jatin sat opposite her in the minimally furnished hall. The paint was peeling and cobwebs hung from the high ceiling. The dark corners of the house seemed to echo the neglect it had suffered over the years.

“You don’t need to apologise,” he replied, feeling embarrassed.

“Oh sure, I do. I had no right to accuse you and Naina of being selfish and irresponsible. I’ve already apologised to my sister.”

Jatin glanced at Naina, who smiled reassuringly at him. She looked dainty in an ice-cream pink Salwar Kameez, with faint rosy cheeks and lips and beautiful dark eyes.

“You were partly right, didi” Naina told her sister. “I should’ve informed you that I had been invited to Jatin’s Boss’s house for Ganapati.”

“No, you have every right to go wherever you please. I was just a trifle overwrought with worry and work.” Priya passed her sister a fond smile.

Watching the exchange, Jatin felt a wave of relief wash over him. Things were finally being sorted out between the sisters!

“Here, take this!” Priya thrust a white envelope into his hands.

“What is it?”

“Buy yourself a Ganapati festival gift. It’s just a small amount.”

“Oh no!” Jatin exclaimed. “I can’t accept money from you!”

“Why not? You’re Naina’s good friend, aren’t you? I would’ve bought you a gift myself, but I didn’t know your choice, so I thought it better to give you the money. That way you can buy whatever you want. You have to accept the present, because if you don’t, I shall feel that you haven’t forgiven me for my rude behaviour!”

Jatin looked at Naina helplessly.

“Take it,” she suggested, seeming thrilled by her sister’s gesture. “Priyardidi means it!”

Jatin hesitated, then shrugged, resigned. “All right. Thank you very much, but you really didn’t have to.”

“Oh yes, I had to. I wanted to give you something.” Priya smiled and once again Jatin marvelled at the change in the woman.

“Oh, that reminds me, do you two have your horoscopes with you?” he asked. “I’d like to show them to my Boss. She’s an excellent Astrologer!”

“I would love to get my horoscope read by Soniaji!” Naina exclaimed. “But…” The two sisters glanced at each other. “I’m afraid we don’t have our horoscopes,” the younger girl continued. “My parents may have got them made, but we’ve no idea where they are. Do you, Priyardidi?”

The older sister shook her head. “No. Though I would love to know my future, too!”

“In that case, why don’t you two write down your birth date, time, and place for me? You know those, don’t you? Good. Just the time, date, and place would do.”

“Oh great!” Naina suddenly seemed excited like a child, Jatin observed, pleased, as she ran to fetch a pad and jotted down the details. She passed the pad to her sister, who wrote down her birth particulars, then tore the page from the pad and handed it to Jatin.

“Thanks!” He smiled at them and rose to leave.

“Don’t forget to buy your gift,” Priya reminded lightly as he departed.

The rain had lifted but the sky was overcast and a cool breeze blew in through the Stellar Investigations’ window. Nidhi lay curled on the red pillow, fast asleep. Sonia looked down at her fondly. The cat seemed to choose a different coloured cushion every day! The blue velvet collar round her neck, her golden fur, and the red cushion made a beautiful contrast. Sonia wished she had her digital camera. She must remember to bring it to the office and keep it in the cupboard.

Sonia glanced at the horoscopes she had charted out from the information Jatin had handed her earlier that morning.

“What are you thinking, Boss?” her Assistant asked as he entered with two cups of chai.

“I hope you aren’t in a tearing hurry for me to read these horoscopes,” she said as she accepted her cup.

“No, of course not,” Jatin lied. “But sooner the better… Oh, and I’m rich by two thousand rupees! A gift from Priyardidi!”

“Wow! And I thought you said she was a nightmare!”

“Did I?” Jatin grinned, feigning ignorance.

“What do you plan to buy with it?”

“I don’t know. Something for Naina, I think. I surely don’t mean to use the money for myself. And right now I’m going to keep this envelope in your drawer. I’ll take it when I need it.”

They sipped their tea in companionable silence.

“Boss, do you need me this afternoon? I mean, we aren’t working on anything and…”

“As usual, you have a date with Naina,” Sonia completed.

Jatin grinned sheepishly. “Actually, I was planning to take Naina for a movie. Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge!”

“How romantic. But Jatin, you’ve already seen DDLJ thrice!” she reminded lightly.

“Boss, so have you!” he retaliated. “And so what! It’s a great film with loads of lovely songs. And I’ll be seeing it for the first time with Naina! And then we have to go shopping. She wants to go to Wadekar Jewellers and buy some silver for a friend’s wedding. It’s her favourite shop and Mr. Wadekar knows me personally, so I’m going to help her choose the gift. And then I’m going to take her home. I want to introduce her to my parents.”

“Oh! Introduce her, as in—this is my good-friend-cum-wife-to-be?” Sonia asked carefully, hiding her surprise. Jatin was surely taking long strides in a very short period of time.

His grin widened. “Not exactly. I shall do that only after you give me the green signal. First you read the horoscopes, give me the thumbs-up, then I propose, and then I announce! Right now, she will be introduced as a special friend. But I’m sure my parents will take the hint.”

“You’ve got it all lined up in your head, haven’t you?” Somehow Sonia didn’t know why she was so surprised. Was it because of the speed with which Jatin’s love affair seemed to be rolling? Or because she never really expected him to ever get this serious about any girl?

“Go ahead,” she told him. “But Ganapati is drawing to a close. After that, you won’t have so much time courting your girl-friend,” she warned.

“I know that, Boss. That’s why I’m making the most of this time. And take my advice, you should use this holiday, too! Go out with Mohnish, go to DDLJ with him for the late-night show.”

“No thanks!”

“Or simply romp around town with him, the weather’s so romantic, so perfect for two souls in love to be together—”

“Hold it! Who said I’m in love with Mohnish?” Sonia exclaimed.

“You don’t have to say anything, Boss. Your eyes speak for you.” Jatin aired his opinion grandly.

“I agree with you. Sonia has the most expressive eyes I ever saw!” Mohnish remarked, entering the room with a flourish.

Sonia blushed. What perfect timing! How much had Mohnish heard? Jatin could be such an idiot at times. She scowled at her Assistant, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

“By the way, why were you complimenting Sonia?” the journalist asked, drawing out a chair and making himself comfortable.

“All I was saying—” Jatin began.

But his Boss cut him off neatly. “Do you want the day off, or not, Jatin?” she, asked him, in her best blackmail tone. She felt like throttling him at times!

“I want the day off!” Whistling cheekily, he left the room.

Mohnish grinned. “You and Jatin constantly share secrets and leave me out of it.”

Sonia laughed and rolled her eyes heavenwards. “Secrets with Jatin! He’s more used to ladling out mature advice to me.”

“Has he been urging you to leave this office and spend some time out in the beautiful outdoors?”

Sonia was a little startled. Had Mohnish put ideas in her Assistant’s fertile brain? Or had he actually overheard their talk?

“More or less!”

“Good, because I was going to suggest the same. What are you doing for lunch today?”

“The usual.”

“Come on, then, let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“Don’t ask irrelevant questions on such a lovely day!”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“I’ve followed your excellent example. No cases for you these ten days and no media work for me, too! Though that’s not strictly true, of course. I do have a coverage of the last day, the visarjan sobla—the procession of the immersion of Ganesh. But that is still two long days away. So why worry about it now? Are you coming or not?”

Sonia sighed. Everyone seemed to be dominating her nowadays. First her parents, her Assistant, and now Mohnish. Well, all right. She may as well be a little flexible! And accede to Jatin’s advice and have a good time!

And she did have a whale of a time. Mohnish drove her all round town, pointing out and pausing at the huge dekhave decorated with images out of Ramayana and Mahabharata; life-size mythological figures; a sixty-foot statue of God Hanuman; water sprouting out of the top-bun of the hair of Lord Vishnu; or just plain mountainous idols of the Lord Ganesh. Even though the dekhave were better appreciated during the night-time with their dramatic lighting, the crowds still moved around them as if they were on a permanent picnic.

It was only while they took the turn from Chandanai Chowk to Mulshi that the rain began its downpour again.

“Now where are we going?” Sonia felt invigorated, excited, and heady. She couldn’t care less where they were headed, she felt so relaxed.

“We’re going to have a late lunch at a personal favourite restaurant of mine!” Mohnish announced. His hair was wet and tousled with the wind and rain and he looked disturbingly handsome in his jeans and blue denim jacket.

The drive took fifteen minutes down the serpentine road, with stretches of green trees on the right and rolling hills on the left. The rain pattered on the roof of the car. Sonia glanced at Mohnish’s profile, noting his total concentration on the slippery road. Suddenly he turned and looked at her. Their eyes locked momentarily, and for precious moments, time froze. Then he tore his gaze away and focused once again on the road. But Sonia was reeling with the impact of the look. There had been so much desire and intensity in his smileless gaze that suddenly the close confines of the car made her uncomfortable. The gaze had stoked emotions she wasn’t even aware she possessed and her heart had picked up erratic speed. She stared out of her window at the lush green hills and took slow, deep breaths.

When they had parked, they had to make a run for the restaurant so as not to get completely drenched. It was only when they were seated that Sonia realised that they were on a hill, overlooking the bloated Manas lake. Despite the rain, a weak sun shone, layering the landscape with gold.

“What a lovely view!”

“Isn’t it?” Mohnish looked pleased. “I knew that you could appreciate it.”

“I hope the food is good. I’m hungry!” Sonia admitted, smiling. “You order. I’m going to go fetch two bhuttas for us!”

Before he could respond, she rose and headed towards a man in kurta pyjamas and a muddy white scarf tied around his head, roasting bhuttas on a cart. Mohnish watched her stride gracefully to the man.

Sonia turned to flash him a quick smile. She knew he was observing her and thinking about her. But for the moment, she felt in a better frame of mind to accept the fact. Neither conscious nor ill equipped. She experienced an unrestrained thread of freedom run through her. She could cope with anything today!

The man turned the two cobs on the hot coals rill they were a crusty brown, then rubbed salt, red pepper, and lime on them.

“Put lots of chili on them, please,” Sonia told him, extracting money from her handbag.

He placed the cobs on a corn cover and took the money.

Mohnish observed her as Sonia and the vendor exchanged comments. She was such a unique person, he thought. Beautiful and elegant when the occasion required it; tough and indomitable at times; and compassionate, empathetic, and concerned when the need arose. A perfect combination. And in the car, that one moment when he had looked at her—it had been a moment of truth for him and it had hit him like a jolt. He was in love with Sonia!

As she walked towards him, he decided that he had to do something about it. Today. Now. She slipped into the chair beside him.

“Lots of spice and lime. I hope you like it that way,” she said, handing him a cob.

“Thanks, I’ve ordered Pav Bhaji for us.”

“Good, I love it.” She bit into the cob, savouring the spicy, tangy taste.

Sonia was silent as she devoured the bhutta. A frown marred her pretty face.

“Do you know, Mohnish, a person is like a corncob? You think the corn is so big, and then you peel away the multiple layers and you discover that, bare and stripped of its covers, it’s almost half the size inside. Most people are like that. But you barely notice it, since it might take a lifetime to peel away the layers of self-defence, respect, greed, love, age, and God knows what else. And there’s the possibility that you may never ever get under the layers at all. In a majority of the cases.”

“Hmm…” Mohnish shrugged. “Most people do live with all the layers on anyway. Layers which they themselves aren’t aware exist!”

“Right.”

“What brought this on?” he asked, curious.

The waiter arrived with the Pav Bhaji and Sonia waited for him to leave. The rain continued to fall around them, enclosing them in misty white. Sonia watched idly as a group of youngsters arrived in a Jeep, ran into the shelter of the restaurant, laughing and giggling, oohing and aahing at the landscape.

“I guess I’m thinking about Jatin,” she remarked, spooning her bhaji.

“What about him?” he asked, tucking into the meal.

“He seems pretty serious about Naina.”

“And does that bother you?”

“Yes and no. He’s too young to get married or even to get serious about any girl. Of course, that’s my opinion. He doesn’t seem to think so.” She grimaced. “He’s madly in love with Naina. That guy is on a mission and nothing will dissuade him. He’s simply waiting for me to read Naina’s horoscope and give him the green signal. And somehow I feel responsible. I don’t want to give him the green signal just yet, but I guess if all is well with the horoscope, I will have to.”

“And Naina. You do approve of her, don’t you?”

Sonia took a few seconds before she responded. “I like Naina. She’s beautiful, she’s sensitive, she’s perfect for him. There’s not a fault I can find in her.”

“So then, what’s the problem?” Mohnish asked. “I thought the two were very well suited when I met with them at your house the other day. Jatin is a lucky guy.”

“Yes, but she has a sister who is completely dominating and frightens her to death!” Sonia narrated the asthma incident. “I’m afraid Priya may continue to influence and affect Naina all her life. Basically, she doesn’t seem like a nice person.”

“You cannot choose your relatives. You just have to accept your family as it is and move on. And besides, Jatin can’t have it all. He’ll get a perfect mate in Naina.”

“I guess you’re right. But Jatin’s not perfect himself.”

“Now, that is an argument that won’t gel!” He laughed. “Worried that Jatin’s admiration will now be divided between you and Naina?”

Sonia smiled. “I’m not certain that’s a bad thing to happen! He pays far too much attention to me anyway. Always correcting me in a condescending and patronising manner, thinking he knows what’s best for me. But he’s a dear. Can’t think of a day without him!”

“Hey, now you’re making me jealous!”

“Jealous?” Sonia raised startled eyes and found him staring at her, a burning intensity in his brown eyes. A thick lock of hair fell attractively over his forehead and she had an urgent desire to flick it away.

He leaned forward and casually took her hand in his. A shiver ran down her spine and her throat went dry.

“Sonia, you’re a beautiful and intelligent girl and… I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while now, but somehow couldn’t muster the courage. Or the occasion wasn’t right. But I’ve decided that I’ve got to get it off my chest. I—”

“Stop!” she gasped, and snatched her hand away abruptly. “Don’t say a word more!”

“But…” He looked startled.

“No, not now. I’m not ready!” she exclaimed, desperate to put an end to the breathless thudding of her heart.

“Ready? I was going to ask you to pay the bill. I’ve forgotten my wallet!” Mohnish burst out laughing.

Sonia blushed beet-red. “You… What! You tell a girl she’s beautiful and intelligent so that she can pay the bill?”

“Sometimes.” He stopped laughing, but continued grinning. “Okay, that’s not strictly true. But you panicked. And I had to shake off that stricken look. You looked as if I were about to announce a death penalty!”

“You’re impossible!” Sonia shook her head, a mixture of contradictory emotions flitting over her. Disappointment and annoyance rolled into a dash of relief. Then her humour surfaced and she laughed. “All right. I admit I panicked. Now, have you finished? I have some important work to do and I must return to the office. Do you or don’t you have your wallet?”

“I do, ma’am!” He dug into his back pocket and extracted a black leather wallet.

“You deserve a punishment for that sick joke,” she said sternly.

“I’m all yours!” He paid the bill and rose, a wicked grin still on his lips.

Sonia averted her gaze. “Good. Because I have a busy evening lined up for you.”

“I can’t wait!”

They both raced through the rain to the warmth of his car.

The huge Banyan tree sheltered the couple from the light rain as they sat in peaceful silence on the yellow-painted wooden bench beneath it. Jatin was sitting cross-legged, humming a song from the movie they had just seen under his breath, holding a huge black umbrella in his left hand as the rain fell softly around them. He couldn’t believe that the moment was here. The moment which would change his life forever. He shot a glance at Naina, her face serene and angelic in the moonlight.

His parents had loved Naina. He had seen it in their countenance that evening when he had taken her home after the film. That was a relief in itself. But it was nothing compared to the joy he had experienced when his Boss telephoned him and gave him the best possible news!

“Are you sure about your feelings for her, Jatin?” Sonia had begun.

“Positive! Did you read her horoscope?” he asked eagerly.

“Yes, you can even propose to her tonight if you wish.”

“Oh, thank you, Boss! I’m on my way!”

“Don’t you want to know the details?”

“Later, after the most important deed in my life is done!”

“Jatin, listen…”

But he hadn’t. He hadn’t wanted to hear anything else! He had made a swift call to Naina, telling her to be ready. He had taken her out to a candlelit dinner, while the rain had provided the most idyllic setting outside. And now they were sitting in a park, with just the moon and the feather-light drizzle for company. Tranquillity reigned between them. A comfortable togetherness. No compulsion to converse, no craving to impress. A contented, relaxed atmosphere of complete ease. This is what love is like, he decided.

“Don’t look at the moon!” Naina said suddenly.

“Why ever not?”

“You aren’t supposed to, during Ganapati.”

“That’s only on the first day!” Jatin grinned. “Don’t you know the story behind it? Apparently Ganapati was sitting on a mouse and taking a ride when the moon laughed at him. Because he was so huge and the mouse so small! Ganapati fell off the mouse’s back and was very angry. He told the moon that if anybody looked at him on the first day of Ganesh festival—the day of his birth—that person would be accused of theft!”

“Such a cute story! But is it true?”

“You should’ve tried it out. Looked at the moon on the first day! But I did and I have been accused of stealing!”

“Really?” Naina looked taken aback.

“Yes, I’ve been accused of stealing a heart!”

Jatin took a deep breath, turned in his seat to face Naina, and took her hand in his. She glanced at him shyly. In a flowing blue chiffon Salwar Kameez, with raindrops glistening like diamonds in her long loose hair, she looked resplendent.

“Naina, I’ve tried to make this evening as special as possible. Because I want to ask you something very special. I love you, Naina. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you for the first time in Frenzy.”

The bashful expression on her face rapidly changed to joy.

“Oh, Jatin…” she whispered.

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

“I… don’t know what to say!”

“Say yes!” he insisted.

“But what about Priyardidi? I have to ask her.”

“Don’t worry about her. I will officially ask her for your hand and I’m sure she will not refuse. Just say that you will be my wife!”

“Yes, I want to be your wife! Now and forever! Oh Jatin, you’ve made me so happy!” Naina exclaimed as her eyes welled up with tears.

And Jatin took her in his arms, the umbrella flying away with the wind.

* * *

“Boss, she accepted!” Over the phone Jatin sounded as excited as a child.

“She did… You mean you proposed!” Sonia confirmed.

“Yes, I asked her to marry me tonight and she was overjoyed. We went over to her house and we gave Priya the news. Naina was a little apprehensive about her reaction, but fortunately she was happy for us. But she insisted that we have an immediate engagement. Tomorrow, Naina and I are going to Lakshmi Road to buy the rings. She will buy a ring for me and I will buy hers. And then we shall go to the temple. You will have to excuse me tomorrow, Boss. I promise I will make up for it later!”

“Engaged tomorrow? So soon?”

“What’s the point of waiting? We shall have a small family ceremony within a couple of days, but we’ll go and buy the rings at Wadekars as soon as possible.”

“But the Ganesh procession will begin tomorrow, for the immersion ceremony. The roads will be blocked and the shops will be closed.”

“Only after four in the afternoon. And we plan to go around two o’clock since in the morning Mom wishes to meet with Naina. We can finish well in time.”

“Jatin, are you sure?” Sonia asked again.

“Boss, I love Naina. I’m as sure about it as I know my own breath,” Jatin answered seriously.

“Wow!” Sonia sighed. “Well then, all I can say is congratulations and Best of Luck!”

“Thank you, Boss. For everything. And specially for not taking any case during this Ganesh festival.”

“Then you should thank my mother, not me!” Sonia remarked. “As for me, I always did and always will have your good in mind, Jatin. Whatever I do will be with your best interest at heart. Just remember that!”

“I never doubt that.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, then. Goodnight, Jatin.”

“Goodnight, Boss.”

A truckload of people, their clothes and faces smeared with red powder, slowly passed along Lakshmi Road, drumming and rejoicing. The narrow, busy commercial street in the heart of the city was flooded with people. It was the last day of the festival and the Ganesh Mandals were winding up and gearing up to stand in the long queue for the immersion of the idols. The ceremony would begin at noon the next day, but all of the previous afternoon and all night hundreds of Ganesh idols would be brought in trucks and carts and chariots amidst fanfare and dancing on beats of the dhols. The teeming devotees tirelessly and spiritedly bid goodbye to Lord Ganesh, shouting “Ganapati Bappa Morya, Pudhchya Varshi Lavkar Yaa”—Come soon next year! The rain had eased and already the air was thick with dust, haze, and gulal—red powder—and the resounding repetitive rhythm of the dholak. Some of the shops had closed, but the Wadekars Jewellery House on the ground floor of Lakshmi Road was wide open. Their huge glass windows displayed the choicest and the latest in gold and diamond designer jewellery.

Inside, Jatin and Naina, oblivious to the chaotic sounds of the street, were busy selecting rings. The shop was crowded with customers and a number of salesmen and -women were attending them, turn by turn.

“I like this one.” Naina indicated a single diamond in a plain gold band. She slipped it on and it fit her ring finger perfectly.

“But it’s too simple! And it’s only five thousand rupees!” Jatin protested.

Naina smiled, pleased. “I still like this one.” She observed her hand for a few seconds, then, satisfied, removed the ring and returned it to its purple velvet box.

“All right. Please keep this aside,” Jatin informed the salesman.

“Anything else, Jatinsaheb?” the salesman asked. “You are one of our oldest customers. You can’t certainly wind up with just a ring?”

Jatin turned to his fiancee. “Naina?”

“Oh yes, I want to see other articles. But why don’t you pay for my ring? I still have to select a pair of earrings for Priyadidi. I’ll pay for your ring and the earrings later,” Naina suggested as she picked up a pair of beautifully studded ear tops. “Aren’t these cute?”

“For Priyadidi?”

“Of course. She’s done so much for me. I’m going to present her with a lovely gift. How much are they?”

“Only seventy thousand, Madam.” Mr. Wadekar joined them. He was a middle-aged, pot-bellied man in a silk kurta pyjama and gold-rimmed glasses. His sharp eyes swiftly gauged the shopping capacity of the two youngsters.

“Can I try them on?”

“Of course.”

While Naina put on the earrings, commenting on the sparkle of the diamonds, Jatin paid for the ring he’d bought for Naina. Mr. Wadekar went off to make a bill and the salesman took his place again.

“How do they look?” Naina studied herself critically in the mirror.

“Excellent, Madam, they suit your complexion very well,” the salesman offered smoothly.

“Thank you!” Naina smiled at him.

“They look perfect on your face,” Jatin agreed. Then he lowered his voice. “But, Naina, they’re too expensive.”

She nodded at him and whispered, “Don’t worry. I’m a rich girl, Jatin, and I have the money right here in my purse.” She patted her fat handbag. “Can you show me a simple necklace to go with this?” she asked the salesman. “Just a string of simple stones?”

Jatin watched, amazed, as she placed some very expensive diamond studs around her swan-like neck.

“You do look ethereal in diamonds,” he admitted, admiration and love shining in his eyes, and a new respect dawning for her unstinting generosity towards her waspish sister.

“I know. And these are the perfect gifts for Priyadidi, don’t you think? Oh, I’m so happy! All our lives she has scrimped and saved for me, giving me the best and sacrificing her life for me. Not anymore! This is the only way I can say thank you to her. I’m really so happy!” Her eyes danced and again Jatin decided she was the prettiest girl he knew.

“I’ll have these!” Naina’s mobile squealed a reminder and she glanced at it. “Oh, excuse me. I have to make a phone call.”

While Jatin took a look at some of the other necklaces, Naina quickly dialled a number, listening keenly. Jatin’s mobile rang.

“Boss? What’s up?” he asked, surprised.

“Have you bought the jewels yet?” Sonia’s voice sounded breathless in his ear.

“I’ve bought my ring but Naina is still purchasing a pair of earrings and a necklace for her sister.”

“Where’s Naina?”

“Right here beside me.”

“Jatin, I’d like to help you choose the rings. Do you mind waiting till I come there?”

“Not at all, Boss!” But the confusion on Jatin’s face was obvious.

“Right, I’ll be there in a few minutes. Hang on!” Sonia hung up without further comment.

“Everything all right?” Naina flashed him a quick look.

Jatin nodded. “It’s Boss. She’s coming over to help choose the rings. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that we’ve already made our choice.”

“Jatin, here’s my purse. Will you pay for the earrings and necklace while I…” Suddenly Naina choked and her hand went to her throat. All colour drained from her face as she struggled to breathe.

“What is it!” he exclaimed in instant anxiety, bending over her.

She whispered something, but the roar of drums and shouts from the street seemed to invade the store as more customers trooped into the already overcrowded room. Everyone but Jatin was too occupied to notice anything amiss. But he called frantically to Mr. Wadekar and the salesman, who hastened forward in concern to offer assistance. Immediately, some customers turned in curiosity. Others clustered around them.

“What’s the matter, Jatinji?” Mr. Wadekar inquired solicitously.

“It’s an asthma attack,” Jatin explained to the gathering crowd. “Please, don’t surround her! Make room, please, give her air!”

Naina fumbled with her purse. “The open air!” she gasped, fighting for breath. Her hands dug into her purse and extracted the inhaler. The purse fell open on the floor, a bundle of money sliding out of the open lid. “I need air!” she pleaded.

“Please help,” Jatin appealed to the salesman and Mr. Wadekar.

The salesman at once moved forward to give Naina an arm. “Make way, please, this is an emergency.”

Naina stumbled along with them, threading through the thronging customers, gasping for breath, using the inhaler. Her hand clutched Jatin’s in a painful grasp. They stepped outside and she took in deep, grateful breaths.

The crowds seemed to have multiplied and the air was rife with gulal and jostling shoulders. The festive spirit was rampant, and the real immersion ceremony had yet to begin! Jatin realised belatedly that bringing her into the dust-laden outdoors was a huge mistake. The pollution would surely only worsen her condition. He held on to Naina and struggled to keep his feet firmly planted on the ground, swaying with the excited rumble of passersby and worshippers. He had to get Naina away from this street. He had to… In a rush a group of devotees bore down on them, spilling red powder in the air in a whirl of noisy activity. His hand jerked, as someone pushed him hard against the wall. The next instant Naina’s hand was ripped out of his.

Within seconds the crowd swarmed around her, swallowing her up.

“Naina!” he yelled. He spotted her bobbing head as it passed with the tide and he recklessly plunged into the throng.

“Naina!” His voice was lost amidst the din of the dholaks and the “Ganapati Baapa Morya!” cries of the people.

Somehow, common sense intruded into his feeling of acute frustration. And he realised that it was useless running after his fiancee. Naina would somehow manage to extract herself from the crowd and return to the jewellery store. It would be sensible for him to retrace his steps and await her return at the shop. But her asthma! He couldn’t expunge the extreme worry which swamped him at the memory of her suffering. What if she couldn’t… ? No, he chided himself severely, quelling the rising wave of panic. He had to think positively. He had to believe that she would feel better. And that she would find her way safely back to him.

The crowd thinned suddenly, but even as it did so, another truckload of people appeared round the corner. Jatin hastily stepped aside, dodging people, and doubled back to the shop. Mr. Wadekar and the salesman were waiting for him anxiously.

“Are you all right? Is your friend okay?” Mr. Wadekar inquired.

“I hope so!” Jatin sighed. “Naina seemed to have gotten lost in the crowd somehow.”

Mr. Wadekar and the salesman flashed each other apprehensive glances. The latter handed a purse to Jatin.

“Madam dropped this,” he remarked.

“Thank you.” Jatin accepted the leather handbag.

“I hope she’ll be okay. Now, can we make the bill?” the owner asked.

“I’ve already bought one ring. And there’s another one, and those earrings for seventy thousand. But I think I’d rather wait for my fiancee. I’d just like to confirm her choice for the necklace.”

“All right, Jatinji!” Nodding, Mr. Wadekar moved away again to attend to the other customers.

The dull sounds of the drumming and rejoicing of the enthusiastic devotees rang in his ears That moment when Naina’s hand had jerked out of his, he had experienced the worst kind of terror. As if he was never going to see his dear Naina again. As if he was losing her forever! Jatin shook his head frantically, trying to shake off the smothering terror. This was ridiculous, really. She would return any minute. They would pay their bill and return home. And then they had to visit a good Doctor and get her totally cured. He only hoped that right now she was coping with the crowds along with her asthma.

Mr. Wadekar returned. “I think we should settle the account now, Jatinji. We have to close the shop.”

“I understand,” Jatin agreed. It was past three and it was mandatory for all the shops on Lakshmi Road to be shut soon. But why wasn’t Naina back yet? Her mobile! He could call her up on her mobile! He quickly dialled her number and waited breathlessly for her sweet voice to answer. Any moment now… The phone rang continuously. But there was no response. Perhaps she still wasn’t out of the crowds. He waited a few seconds, then dialled again. The bell rang. Jatin’s heartbeat increased. Answer the phone, Naina! he beseeched.

“Hello?” Muted sounds of dholaks playing could be heard through the receiver.

“Hello, Naina!” he exclaimed, then stopped short.

“This is Pradeep and I found this phone lying on the pavement!” a male voice answered.

Pure terror streaked through Jatin. Naina! What had happened to her? Had she fainted? Had someone pushed her? Oh God, no!

Jatin’s head reeled. His legs wobbled, giving way, and he grasped a chair and stumbled into it. Outside, the drumming seemed to grow louder as the swelling crowds marched and danced on the rhythm of two huge dholaks. The sound seemed to drill painfully into Jatin’s brain. He wanted to scream at everyone and order them to end the merrymaking. Naina was ill. All he could think of was her safety. God, please let Naina be all right, he pleaded silently.

“Is something the matter, Jatinji?” Mr. Wadekar inquired, a trifle sharply.

“I don’t know,” Jatin mumbled. His head seemed dizzy and his heart thudded painfully.

Sonia and Inspector Divekar rushed into the store at that very moment.

“Jatin! Are you all right?” Sonia asked anxiously, hastening towards him.

“Boss,” he whispered faintly, rising. “Naina…” The deathly paleness of his face made her heart go cold.

“I know! No, don’t get up. Just sit down, please.” She took command.

Mr. Wadekar, now very much roused, pushed ahead. “I’d like to know what’s going on! Jatinji, where is your friend? She was wearing my diamond earrings and necklace when she had that attack. And now you say that you don’t know where she is?”

Sonia sighed. “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you. That girl has just vanished with your precious jewels!”

Jatin gasped in shock and Mr. Wadekar looked startled. He turned swiftly to Inspector Divekar. “My God! Those jewels were worth a fortune! You can’t let this happen! I’ve known Jatinji for years and that’s why I allowed that girl to wear the jewels and go out of my shop. I trusted this boy! He will have to pay me for those missing jewels. There’s money in the purse. I’m going to see that I’m paid!” he thundered.

Inspector Divekar scooped up the purse. His face was impassive as he said, “This money’s useless. It is counterfeit money.”

Jatin’s head jerked up. “Counterfeit?” he asked incredulously. His stunned expression matched the one on the shopkeeper’s face.

Sonia nodded. “I’ll explain later, Jatin. Did you touch her money?”

Jatin shook his head, his face white and pinched. Suddenly his life was spinning dangerously off its hinges!

“Thank God! Look, we have a job in hand at the moment. We must convince Mr. Wadekar that you are in no way involved with this racket.”

“Racket? What racked” Jatin repeated, bewildered.

Sonia’s eyes were soft with regret. “You still haven’t got it, have you? Naina’s not coming back, Jatin. She’s gone forever and she’s stolen those jewels!”

Her assistant gaped at her, grappling with the truth. The expression of disbelief, stupefaction, and consternation on his face seemed to pierce her heart.

“We have to convince Mr. Wadekar that you’re absolutely innocent and knew nothing whatsoever about the counterfeit. Then we can return to the office. Will you be all right on your own?” Sonia watched her Assistant uneasily.

Jatin nodded, grateful for the numbness seeping through his heart and brain! He didn’t ever wish to think or to feel again…

Inspector Divekar was checking the contents of Naina’s purse while the salesmen watched on curiously. The Inspector glanced at Sonia as she rose. Together they turned to the owner of Wadekar Jewellery.

“Can we talk in private?” Sonia asked Mr. Wadekar.

Sonia stared across at Jatin. He was halfheartedly sipping hot chai, avoiding looking at her. His face was still drawn, but it was his silence which was most disturbing. He hadn’t uttered a word since they had returned to the office. She feared that he was still reeling under shock.

Sonia threw Mohnish a desperate, pleading look. For the first time in her life, she felt totally ill equipped to handle a situation.

“Jatin, don’t you want to know what exactly happened?” Mohnish asked.

“I don’t care!” he mumbled, without glancing up.

“You’ve had a lucky escape and you don’t care?” Mohnish asked, a trifle sharply. “Do you think either one of us enjoyed seeing you hurt? Sonia and I were as shocked and hurt as you are. Only, we couldn’t sit nursing that hurt, we had to take action—to protect you. Don’t you understand?”

Jatin did look up then, and there was intense pain in his eyes. He suddenly seemed much older than his young years. “I’m sorry… but I don’t know what to believe anymore or what to say…” How could he explain to them that his whole universe had turned topsy-turvy? How could he ever explain what he was going through?

Sonia took the chair beside him. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jatin. I know that love stories are supposed to have happy endings. But only when the love is mutual and for real. I know that you loved Naina and you’re heartbroken. But Naina was using you. For her, it was all a part of a charade she was enacting. You’ve got to believe that what happened is for the best. At least we stopped you before you got embroiled in a counterfeit case.

“Why did you ask me to go ahead when you knew that she was… a criminal! You could have at least saved me some self-respect!” The anguish in his voice tore at her heart.

“Because there was no other way. Right from the first time I met Naina at Pune Station, I liked her. Very much. And I really believed that she was the right girl for you. Until something happened. First, Shettychacha dropped by, returning the counterfeit fifty rupee note that you gave him for the dosas. Apparently Naina had given that bill to you. Then you gave me the horoscope details and my first passing thought was that it was funny how the two sisters wrote out their birth details separately. I mean, I would’ve expected Priya, being the older sister and like a mother to Naina, to write out their birth details. But each one wrote out their own. Anyway, I charted out their horoscopes and discovered some startling puzzles. Priya’s and Naina’s horoscopes had no parallels whatsoever. Each horoscope told a different story. Their characters were very different from what you’d told me. The age difference was more than eight years. Priya was twelve years older than Naina.

Their backgrounds were totally in contrast to what you told me. Neither of them would ever be rolling in money—at least honest money. Neither of their horoscopes seemed to indicate any problems with their parents, who ought to be well and alive, not dead and gone! In short, every single detail seemed in total contrast to what we knew as facts. And Naina’s horoscope was a true puzzle. With Libra as the zodiac sign and the ascendant, she had a strange mix of planets. Sun, Mercury, and Saturn in conjunction in her eighth house revealed her to be melodramatic, talented, and intelligent, but dishonest and cunning and indulging in shady business, which would boomerang on her. Moreover, Sun, the Lord of Leo in the tenth house, was in conjunction with Saturn, which meant that she would go to any lengths to earn money. Jupiter in her Sagittarius gave her those beautiful, serene looks, but it was aspected by Mars. Saturn with the Sun in the eighth house would one day bring her illegal activities out in the open! Naina’s horoscope revealed such criminal traits that it was shocking. But although her horoscope confused me at that point, since it was totally in contrast with her image, I didn’t allow it to sway my judgement of Naina. Not just then.

“First, I took the hundred rupee note that Naina had laid beside our Ganapati on the first day of the festival to Uncle Jeevan. I had retained that money for good luck; that is why I knew it was the same bill. Inspector Divekar at once identified it as fake. My mind began ticking. First Shettychacha and now this. Was it a coincidence that Naina possessed two counterfeit bills? Had someone given her these rupees by mistake and had she carried them forward? Or was there a deliberate connection between the two? The first thing I did when I returned to the office yesterday was take another long look at the horoscopes. And suddenly a lot of my questions were answered. I knew then for a fact that something was definitely wrong and that I had to adopt a course of action. I remembered the twenty hundred rupee notes that Priya had gifted you and you had placed in my drawer. I instantly checked out the notes. All the notes were fake! This was definitely no coincidence. Naina’s friendship with you began smacking of something really suspicious and I had to find out what it was. So I enlisted Mohnish’s and Inspector Divekar’s aid. Inspector Divekar sent a constable to keep a watch on the bungalow, while Mohnish found out if it really belonged to the sisters.”

“That was easy enough,” Mohnish explained. “A few inquiries around the neighbourhood and the information dropped into my lap. The neighbours told me that the two sisters had just recently moved into the bungalow. It had laid vacant for years and the owner, who lived somewhere abroad, had left an agent in charge to deal with the renting of the place.”

“It was now obvious that something fishy was going on for sure,” Sonia told Jatin. “But I wondered what your role was in this whole business. Why had you been roped in and why was Naina leading you on? That she wasn’t in love with you and was using you for some private end was now sadly apparent. But what was her motive? Then I remembered how you had rushed to the medical store to purchase the inhaler when Naina had her asthma attack. And out of the blue everything fell into place. The two sisters were testing counterfeit money on you! First at Shettychacha’s, then the inhaler, and then the gift money given by Priya. But that certainly wasn’t the end. Naina had been duping you for far too long a time, angling for you by playing the right cues, slowly and cleverly provoking you to forge a relationship with her. Something big had to be in the offing. A larger goal. You were a stepping stone for a bigger scapegoat. What or who was it? My instinct told me that if we had to see what that game was, your relationship needed an impetus. That’s the reason why I telephoned you yesterday and gave you the green signal. Naturally, Naina accepted your proposal. And when you told me that you were going to buy the rings, I suspected that the big moment had arrived. She was going with you to the jewellery store, using your good relationship with the owner to establish confidence. If Naina was indeed dealing in counterfeit money, she would definitely try to pull a fast one in the jewellery shop. This was our one chance to catch her red-handed!”

“But she turned out to be smarter than us,” Mohnish remarked dryly.

Sonia nodded. “The moment Naina and you left for the Jewellers this afternoon, Inspector Divekar paid Naina’s house a surprise visit. And sure enough, they found a computer and a colour photocopier and heaps of currency in mostly smaller denominations. The police immediately took Priya into custody, but she claimed that she was nothing more than a small-time actress out for a little extra cash and that Naina was paying her to enact the role of her affectionate but grouchy and confrontational sister! That explained the different horoscopes!

“After that, Naina’s objective became clear. Her last and probably final stop bad to be the Jewellers. And our next duty was to keep tabs on you. We planned to storm in and catch her red-handed in the nick of time, as she paid for the jewellery. But, like Mohnish said, she was smart. We underestimated her. She faked another asthma attack and used the chaos of the festive atmosphere to high-tail it with the jewels, leaving you to pay with the counterfeit money!”

Silence filled the room as Sonia finished her narration. She gazed anxiously at her Assistant.

“But I still don’t understand. If she wanted to use counterfeit money, then why steal the jewels?” he asked.

“I believe that her original plan was to buy the jewels with the counterfeit currency. But I think somewhere along the line she began to suspect something. Didn’t you say that she made a phone call?”

Jatin nodded. “Her mobile beeped a reminder for the call. But I don’t think she got through.”

“Exactly. I shall have to confirm this, but my guess is that Naina called home. Probably it was preplanned. A precautionary measure, before she actually took the final plunge. After all, a lot of money was at stake—I mean fake money. It was a door-the situation. Had she got caught, it would’ve meant jail. Naina had to be sure. But when Priya didn’t answer the call, as she was supposed to, Naina definitely caught the whiff of something suspicious. She must have realised that all was not well. And then I called you up on your mobile, informing you that I was dropping by to help you choose the rings. A wrong move on my part, but I was worried about you. Anyway, that was when Naina’s doubts were confirmed. She decided to act fast. After all her months of planning and scheming, she was unwilling to relinquish her goal—the jewels. Since she was forced to drop her original plan, she used another ploy. Her ever-useful asthma attack. She cleverly and callously vanished with the diamonds, leaving you to face the music.”

Jatin shook his head angrily. “Why me? Why did she have to select me for her game?”

“It probably had something to do with you being an Investigator. Like a thief hiding loot in a policeman’s house. That is the last place the police would ever consider in their search for a thief. Similarly, by involving you, she ensured that no one would suspect that she was in any way connected with anything hanky-panky. Besides, you were young, gullible, and an easy prey. Though Naina’s Mars in conjunction with Venus in Gemini in her ninth house made her attractive and eligible enough for any guy to fall in love with her! And easy enough for her to feign her emotions.”

Nidhi rose, arched, and meowed, jumping into her mistress’s lap. Sonia’s hand automatically caressed her silky fur. Her eyes were trained sympathetically on her assistant.

“I tried to protect you from being incriminated in a counterfeit case, but I’m afraid I couldn’t shield you from the inevitable hurt,” she added gently.

“Everything she ever said to me… was untrue? How could she fake all those… feelings? I still can’t believe she tricked me like this. I… I thought she was so wonderful and…!”

“She had us all fooled,” Sonia conceded, feeling deeply sorry for him.

“But why didn’t you tell me, Boss?” Jatin asked querulously, sounding more like himself.

“What would I have told you, Jatin? That the girl of your dreams, the girl you love and were ready to devote your entire life to, is a criminal? Would you have believed me? I doubt it! Love doesn’t listen to reason.

Love is crazy and wild and careless. You were too intensely involved, and nothing I could’ve said would’ve made even a dent in your obsession. Instead, you would’ve almost certainly tried to argue with me. Besides, I didn’t want Naina to suspect a shift in your feelings. Everything had to be natural. You had to be in love with her and she had to believe you to be in love, to lend her the confidence to pull the final act!“

Jatin sighed, a little mollified. “I guess you’re right, Boss! I would’ve gone ahead and taken the plunge anyway. But the fact that I’ve been made a big fool of in this whole episode still hurts. God knows, my only fault was that I loved her! And look at the reward—all this unbearable pain? This hole in my heart!”

“The lure of love is often like a mirage,” Mohnish remarked. “You never know what lies at the end of the road. And inevitably, love and pain are always meeting at intersections. None of us are excused from these meeting points.”

“But how can I believe it! I would’ve sworn she really loved me.”

Sonia flashed Mohnish a quick, concerned glance. Jatin’s going into denial was more dangerous than his hurt. Mohnish rose and squeezed Jatin by the shoulders. “Naina was obviously a good actress.”

“Besides, love has its own commerce—too tough to figure out—and many faces,” Sonia added. “Maybe Naina’s is one expression of love we may never recognise? Who knows, perhaps in her own queer way, she really did love you?”

Jatin gazed at his boss and read the compassion in her eyes. “Who knows? I still can’t believe that she’s gone!”

“Not forever! The police will find her, sooner or later. We’re still unaware whether she was working entirely on her own or if she was acting on behalf of some big gang. But the police think that this may have been her own brainchild. Regardless, sooner or later, she’ll try to either sell or pawn the diamonds, and that’s when they will nab her.”

“But she was smart, wasn’t she?” Admiration inadvertently crept into Jatin’s voice. “Bold and gutsy! She should team up with The Owl! They’d make a good pair. Handsome and intelligent, but what conniving criminal minds!”

“You’ve got a point there!” Mohnish agreed. “Well, I’ve got to go. I’ve got a Television coverage to attend to. Please watch me on Cable TV, you two. I can tell you it’s not going to be easy shouting into the mike over all that din for more than twenty-four hours and going hoarse!”

“We will. Bye. Thanks for everything.” Sonia smiled.

She watched as the Journalist left. Then she turned to her assistant. He had extracted the velvet box from his pocket and was staring wistfully at the ring inside.

“She was beautiful, Boss. I really did love her and I’ll never forget her!” he said in a low voice.

“No, you won’t forget her. But she doesn’t deserve to be loved. She was beautiful and charming, but not from the inside. And most important, she misused your innocence and love. I don’t think any self-respecting person would or should forget or forgive that!”

Jatin looked up. “You’re right, of course. I would be a fool to even think about her!”

“No, Naina taught you—taught all of us—a very valuable lesson. But she’s more a target of sympathy than real hate. Learn the lesson and move on.”

He grimaced. “I guess that’s it. My search for the perfect life-partner begins all over again!”

“The next time, I’ll be the one to make your choice for you,” Sonia stated firmly.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way!” Jatin responded with a cheery smile.

And Sonia heaved a sigh of relief. It was great to have her good old friend back.

Jatin returned to the outer office and switched on the TV, channel-hopping till he paused at a soulful Hindi film number. The melody and the poignant lyrics evoked countless memories and insatiable desires. He stared at the ring for a long moment, fingering the sparkling diamond, regret topping the torment in his mind. Condemned to remain at the intersection of love and pain… Then, brushing away a drop which had appeared at the corner of his eye, he pocketed the box and sighed. A sigh which rose from the bottom of his heart, and which was loaded with the anguish of a lost paradise.

7

The Last Wish

Jatin swept a fond hand over Nidhi’s silky body. The little cat had settled comfortably on the window seat. Moonlight streamed in through the pane, onto the colourful cushions. What a pampered cat she was. She was so used to demanding attention and getting it, it was no wonder she had left The Owl’s home and found a more loving one! And she couldn’t have chosen a better home than Stellar Investigations. Sonia was not only a perfect mistress but also a perfect boss. Just as Naina had said.

Jatin winced. It still hurt. A passing thought. Even a fleeting image. Someone like her on the street raked up a volcano of emotions. It was the end of October, more than a month since that nightmare which had changed his life and the hurt was still raw. The nine-day celebrations of Navaratri—a festival celebrating and worshipping Goddesses Durga, Laxmi, and Saptashringi—had only succeeded in aggravating the memories. Now, he was dreading the approaching Diwali festival.

Day in and day out, he had harboured a hope for some news of Naina. Even secretly dared to imagine that she would attempt to contact him. But as days merged into weeks, the hope had dwindled. Naina was not returning. His heart had accepted it for a fact now. There was absolutely no trace of her. The police were still on her lookout, but it was as if she had disssolved into thin air.

His boss had been wonderful these past weeks. Patient, sympathetic, and treating him to festival bonuses to pep up his mood. And he had coped with the situation as best he could. Instead of mooning over his lost love, he had channelled his emotions into serious reading and staying late in the office. He even enjoyed a quiet chat with Nidhi, late in the evening, who lent him a patient ear and rubbed herself against his leg. The ache in his heart felt like a permanent concrete of sadness. It was as if the world had paled from a bright, enjoyable fair to a barren landscape. Only now he looked on the landscape with more compassion and understanding than he used to.

He knew deep in his heart that life would no more be that glorious merry-go-round to be enjoyed. And he would never be the old Jatin again.

The Stellar office was bathed in moonlight. The Navaratri festivities were over and the silence filled the building with an eerie tranquility. Jatin stroked Nidhi one last time and was about to lock up, when he heard a rustling sound. Nidhi immediately raised her head. Something white flashed past the window, and Jatin’s heatbeat quickened. Someone was out there! The ghost!

Without thinking, he sprinted out of the office and into the garden. Just in time to see a figure, draped in floating white, dash past the expanse of the garden. The moonlight and the wind streamed through the white sheet, billowing it into a big balloon. Suddenly the white material snagged on a branch, dragging the cloth away. Jatin froze. A face turned, framed by long gleaming dreadlocks, and flashed a venomous look. Jatin involuntarily stepped back, shocked. The next moment, the tall man tugged viciously at the cloth, ripping it, and vanished into the street.

“He’s no ghost! He’s more flesh and blood than most of us!” Jatin remarked to Sonia and Devika. “I never saw such horrible hair! Those dreadlocks!”

Sonia started. “Did you say dreadlocks?” Immediately the image of the malevolent beggar on the street rose before her eyes. The white bedsheet, the small mean eyes, the dreadlocks… Her skin crawled at the memory.

“Yes! He was wrapped in a white bedsheet which caught on a branch and slipped, exposing his dreadful hair. And I’ll never forget the expression on his face when he looked at me. So much hate!”

“If I’m not mistaken, I’ve met this ‘ghost’ before.” Sonia frowned. She narrated the incident of the beggar she’d encountered during Ganpati. “I’m quite sure that our ‘ghost’ is this same beggar. But what I don’t understand is, what is he doing on our premises? Is he passing by? Or does he have intentions of stealing?”

“I really think we should hire a night watchman,” Devika spoke up, sipping her chai.

“I’m beginning to agree with you,” Sonia admitted.

“From what I remember of this fellow, he’s a type to be wary of.”

“In that case, we ought to take no risks. We all work late into the night. I’d feel much safer with a watchman outside. Or even a dog!”

“A dog! You think Nidhi’s going to allow that?” Sonia grinned.

“Why not? My cat and dog live together. Nidhi is too spoilt. She’s monopolized all your love and attention. She needs to share it with another animal. In fact, the more I think of it, the more I like the idea. A dog would be ideal here!” Devika seemed quite taken with the concept. “At least think about it, Sonia.” She rose.

Sonia nodded. “We’ll talk about this again. Bye, thanks for dropping by.”

“Thanks for the lovely tea, both of you. My day really begins well!” Devika flashed them a smile and left the room with a wave of her hand.

And yet, within minutes Devika had returned.

“I found this tucked in your nameplate. Take a look!” She thrust a piece of paper at Sonia.

The detective accepted the now familiar piece of paper, her heart sinking. Another one of those awful notes! Jatin leaned over her shoulder to read.

“Stop the astrological nonsense or you will never see your cat again!”

“My God!” Jatin gasped.

Sonia’s eyes spontaneously moved to Nidhi, who was bathing contentedly in the sun streaming in through the window.

“I don’t like this at all,” Devika said. “It’s a threat!”

“Yes, Boss! It’s getting worse with every note!” Jatin protested.

“You mean there have been more of such notes?” Devika asked, surprised.

Sonia nodded. “Nothing really to worry about.”

Devika folded her arms. “That’s not the impression I get!”

“Hey, you don’t need to worry, okay?” Sonia smiled faintly. “Until now I’d thought that this was a jealous lunatic. But now I realise that I need to look into the matter. I can’t have anyone threatening my darling Nidhi!”

“Good. I hope at least now you see why we need a dog? If only to protect our beloved Nidhi! Well, see you later, then!” Devika sailed out of the room.

Jatin glanced at his boss as she studied the note carefully.

“The same print, on similar paper. Undoubtedly the work of the same person who sent the earlier two notes. But who’s doing this, and why?”

“Someone dead against Astrology, for sure! And against you, Boss!” Jatin picked up the empty cups and some files from the table. “I’m in the outer office if you need me.”

Sonia nodded absently. She was too deep in thought for his words to register. It was only when the strains of the signature tune of a news channel on Jatin’s TV trailed into the room that she rose. Jatin was watching the news.

“The renowned classical singer Pandit Raujibua Dharkar of the Gwalior Gharana—a famous and popular musical school and legacy—passed away last evening. He was listening to music when he had a massive heart attack,” the reporter announced.

Sonia stood beside Jatin as they watched the news report.

“Pandit Raujibua Dharkar, fondly known as Panditji, was seventy-five. He had been suffering from a grave illness for the past several years. Panditji had performed all round the world, taking Indian music on the international circuit. He is survived by a wife and a daughter. Offering condolence to his family, the Prime Minister has expressed his grief, saying that the country has lost a great Maestro. His death is not only a great loss to Indian music but to the whole world. The Chief Minister.. .”

Sonia turned as Mohnish entered the office.

“I just did a report on that. Such a great man!” he remarked, as the voice of the news reporter droned on in the background.

“He put Pune on the international map,” Sonia agreed.

“Though I don’t understand much about classical music, I do know that he was the greatest, with hundreds of students trained under him,” Jatin added, as he turned down the volume of the Television. The news report was now featuring Raujibua’s performances in various shows, and photographs of his family. “I believe he married a woman much younger than him. Didn’t he? I remember reading about it some years ago.”

Mohnish nodded. “Mrs. Rima Dharkar is thirty years younger than he was. And a good friend of mine.”

“Really!” Sonia couldn’t hide her surprise.

“A couple of years ago, I did a documentary on the Dharkars. They were both very co-operative and friendly, and ever since then I’ve been in touch with them. She was a singer trained under him and she fell in love with his music and ultimately married him. She’s a wonderful lady and I have a great deal of respect for her. As a matter of fact, I’ve just come from the Dharkar residence. And I have a request from Mrs. Dharkar for you, Sonia.”

“A request?”

“There’s something she wishes to discuss with you immediately. I promised her that I’d pass on the message to you.”

“Discuss what? Her husband’s death?”

Mohnish nodded. “She didn’t go into details, but I gathered that what is concerning her is Raujibua’s passing away. I believe that it was unexpected.”

“He was ill and old. And a heart attack doesn’t announce its arrival,” Sonia pointed out.

Mohnish shrugged. “Why don’t you meet with her
once? Surely you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Sonia cut in quickly. “Today?”

“Around four? I’ll drive you down to her residence. It’s at the foot of the Sinhagad fort.”

Sinhagad Fort—a fort synonymous with valor—was about twenty-five kilometers south-west of Pune. Here many wars were fought to conquer the fort’s steep cliff. The famous Maratha warrior king, Chhatrapati Shivaji, wanted to take the fort from the Moguls. On the night of February 14, 1672, it was his General Tanaji Malusare who scaled the back wall of the fort and entered it with the help of a ghorpad—a monitor lizard. Only then could the Maratha troops enter and capture the fort. But in the battle, General Tanaji lost his life. A grieved Shivaji had uttered the famous words Gad aala, pan sinhagela!—The fort is ours, but the lion is gone! Since then the fort was renamed Sinhagad-—Fort of the Lion—in honor of the lion-hearted Tanaji. As they left the Khadakwasla dam behind, Sonia couldn’t help but think of the history of the place. As a child she had often gone up the winding narrow ghat for picnics. The remnants of the fort offered only bits and pieces of insight into its past, but somehow the stories of valor had threaded their way into the heart of each Punekar. Besides, the ridges and forests which surrounded the fort were a trekker’s delight. Though treacherously dangerous during the monsoons.

The Dharkar estate sprawled on the same hill as the majestic Sinhagad Fort. In the centre of the land stood the Dharkar residence—the compact, modest bungalow of the famous classical singer. Single-room cottages flanked either side of the bungalow. These were the abodes of the resident students. As Mohnish’s car drove through the gate, Jatin expelled a soft whistle.

“Wow!” he exclaimed.

“It sure does look ideal, doesn’t it?” Mohnish agreed.

“And it all belongs to Mrs. Dharkar now. Do they have any children?” Sonia asked.

Mohnish shook his head. “None their own. A daughter from Mrs. Dharkar’s previous marriage. That’s why they always treated his students as children. Some of them have trained and resided in these cottages for years! You’ll meet three of them today, I believe.”

Mohnish drove the car to the front door. A knot of people in a variety of white attires were murmuring in low voices. Others ambled along the garden aimlessly. Mohnish led Sonia and Jatin past them, into the spacious hall. A big photograph of Raujibua Dharkar was set up in the centre of the room. Garlands almost hid the wrinkled but pleasant, smiling face of the old man. The strong smell of chandan incense sticks mixed with a melancholy air of sadness. As the three paused awkwardly at the entrance of the hall, a woman detached herself from one of the groups of people. She was tall and in her forties. A white cotton sari was looped over her slightly overweight frame. A thick long plait swung below her waist, as she approached them with slow, heavy steps.

“Mohnish!” her soft, sweet voice called out.

“Namaste Rimaji, I want you to meet Sonia Samarth. Sonia, Mrs. Dharkar—or Rimaji, as I call her. And this is Sonia’s colleague, Jatin.”

Swollen eyes, red-rimmed with shed tears, turned on Sonia. “I’m so glad you could make it,” Mrs. Rima Dharkar murmured. “I can’t talk to you with all these relatives around, so anxious to help and yet at a loss what to do. Please follow me to the music room.”

She turned and they followed her into another room, much larger and more imposing than the hall. The high walls were adorned with life-size portraits of the singers in the family, along with a variety of musical instruments. A sitar, tabla, and dagga, harmonium, a violin, and a guitar. Thick, white floor-hugging mattresses which could accommodate at least twenty students covered the length of the floor. A mattress with two oversize cushions rested against the wall.

“This was Raujibua’s favourite room, where he liked to do his riyaz and teach his students. I can’t believe that he is not amongst us.” Mrs. Dharkar sighed. “Please, sit down. I hope you don’t mind sitting on the mattress?”

Mrs. Dharkar sat down on Raujibua’s seat, while the others settled cross-legged opposite her.

“Rimaji, you wanted to discuss something…” Sonia began.

The Maestro’s wife nodded. “Yes. I don’t know how to put this…” She paused delicately, then continued, “It’s a strange feeling that I’ve got. That my husband needn’t have died like he did.”

“What exactly do you mean? He had a heart attack, didn’t he?” Sonia confirmed.

“Yes, he did. But… I know that I’m going to sound foolish saying this, but I have a terrible feeling about this whole thing. That something is not right. Something I ought to know but don’t. Something somehow connected with my husband’s death.”

“Do you have any concrete suspicions? Anything which may hint at foul play?”

“I’m afraid not,” the older woman replied with a sigh. “Does that mean that what I feel instinctively is just a figment of my imagination?”

“Not necessarily,” Sonia admitted. “Sometimes when you don’t have information, you have to rely on instinct. Can you tell me about the inhabitants of this house?”

Mrs. Dharkar nodded. “First I must tell you about our children—Raujibua’s disciples. Sumeet, Kirit, and Bishan have lived with us for several years, studying classical music under Raujibua. They call him Guruji and me Guruma and they have been like our own children. Recently all three completed their training and just yesterday they were to leave us to begin a new life on their own. They were very devoted to their Guruji, specially Sumeet. But for the last few months, there have been… how should I put it… certain disagreements. Petty jealousies, arguments, and dissatisfaction…”

“Dissatisfaction?” Sonia prodded for more details.

Again, Mrs. Dharkar nodded. “Nothing very drastic, of course, and no vulgar display of jealousy, either. But I could sense the undercurrents. You see, even though Raujibua treated all his students equally, he was bound to have a favourite. Someone he would’ve wanted to carry on his name as a Guruji. And he had chosen Sumeet. And—I must say this—his choice was faultless. Sumeet is a wonderful boy. Disciplined, and a superb singer. Sumeet is definitely the right person to carry on his Guruji’s name. But unfortunately Bishan and Kirit did not seem to share our view. Both are good singers, too. But you need something more than good singing. A commitment, an involvement. And Raujibua knew his students well enough to know the difference.”

A tall, dusky girl in her twenties swept into the music room, her eyes searching for Mrs. Dharkar. Her features were sharp and she was a spitting image of the older woman.

“What is it, Vandana?” Mrs. Dharkar asked at once, sounding concerned.

“There are people outside who have waited a long time to offer their condolences to you.” Vandana spoke hesitantly. Her curious eyes flicked over Sonia and Jatin.

“I’ll be with them in a minute.” Mrs. Dharkar turned to Sonia apologetically. “Please excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s no problem, we’ll wait.”

As the two women walked out of the room, Sonia glanced at Mohnish, an eyebrow raised in inquiry.

“Her daughter, from her first marriage,” he explained. “Vandana is into computers, but has learnt classical singing from Raujibua. Although I don’t think she has much of a musical voice. Still, he insisted that, as per the tradition of his house, she had to learn.”

A few minutes later, Mrs. Dharkar returned, smiling faintly. “I’m sorry about that. But Raujibua has so many well-wishers. All wishing to help. All so sincere, but it does take its toll on me. I don’t know how I am going to see it through these next few days. Of course, Vandana and the three boys are a tremendous help. Specially Sumeet. He really loved his Guruji. My husband had been suffering for several years. He had a very complicated health condition which got worse because of a weak heart. These last few years, Sumeet insisted on dismissing all the nurses and looked after Raujibua himself. Administering his medicine, accompanying him for walks, and ensuring his regular dose of exercise—his own son would not have served Raujibua better than Sumeet did.”

Mrs. Dharkar’s eyes moistened. “But I’m straying from the main point. I was telling you how Kirk and Bishan were jealous of Sumeet. All three are exceptionally talented, but it has been obvious that Sumeet does have an edge over the others. And three days ago, my husband discovered that Bishan has been indulging in all those things that traditionally a disciple should refrain from during training. I believe Bishan said something to Raujibua which angered my husband and upset him so much that he threatened to disown Bishan. Yesterday, Raujibua was very restless. When I asked him what the matter was, he said people are not always what they seem and the best of people can give you pain and hurt. The argument with Bishan had really affected him deeply. The three of them had gifted him with an audio CD, and unfortunately it was while listening to it last evening, around seven, that he had a massive heart attack.”

Sudden tears welled up once more in her eyes. The others maintained a respectful silence as she grappled with the reality of her loss. At length, she shook her head. “It’s going to be really hard to live life without him.”‘

“But why do you feel that something’s not right here?” Sonia persisted.

“For the simple reason that it was most unexpected and shocking. Because the Doctors had assured me that if the medication continued, nothing would happen to my husband for at least a couple of years.”

“Perhaps his medication…”

“No, Sumeet took special care of it. Raujibua did not miss a single dose. And I was also there to supervise and keep an eye on things. It was definitely nothing to do with careless medication.”

“Doctors can go wrong in their diagnosis,” Sonia pointed out, very gently.

“Yes, I’m aware of that, but I’m not convinced,” Mrs. Dharkar remarked. “My one solace is that he passed away listening to music, as was his most dear wish.”

Sonia nodded in sympathy. “Rimaji, what do you want me to do?”

“I know you think that Raujibua’s passing away is completely natural. And that I am making an issue out of nothing. But I still would like you to investigate the matter—privately, of course. Talk to people, do whatever you think necessary, but satisfy me that I am wrong and that no mischief featured in my husband’s death!”

Sonia flashed Mohnish a glance. “I understand that you’re upset, Rimaji. And that you think life has been unfair in taking your husband away from you before his time. And I’m willing to look into this for your sake. But to remove your misgivings may be easier than you think.”

The other woman nodded. “At least it will clear my doubts. Please, just go ahead and do that. Prove that my suspicions and my instincts are incorrect!”

“All right.” Sonia sighed. “Can I meet Kirit, Bishan, and Sumeet?”

“Right away?”

“If it’s possible. Not together, of course, and preferably in their rooms or cottages. I believe they have their own rooms here?”

“Yes. This is their home. They have single-room cottages but they take their meals with the family. Give me a minute while I send Vandana to organize the meetings.”

Mrs. Dharkar rose and exited from the Hall of Music. Sonia turned to Mohnish and Jatin.

“Instinct stronger than evidence? Not the first time I’ve come across such a situation,” she remarked. “But this time, what if instinct wins over evidence? What if instinct is proved accurate?”

Kirit stood by the bed, in the simply furnished room. A tambora—a musical instrument—rested against the wall. Jatin perched on the bed, which was covered with a pink-checked bedsheet. Sonia sat on a chair by the table, her hand casually riffling through the photos placed on it. A copper-plated ornate double photo frame took a prominent place on the table. Kirit’s face smiled back from one frame, but the other side was empty. Which of these snaps was going to be put on the other half of the photo frame, she wondered idly. She studied the minimal decorations of the room and Kirit’s neat appearance.

Kirit was in his late twenties. Square-rimmed glasses sat on a chiseled nose. A pronounced jawline gave him the look of an athlete. But he was an artist. And it was evident when he spoke, soft-voiced and musical.

“I can’t begin to tell you what I feel about Guruji’s passing away. It’s a shock and a terrible one!” Kirit sighed, moist-eyed.

“You have been training with him—for how many years?” Sonia asked.

“Ten years. I did go back home, on and off, but I’ve spent a large part of the last ten years slogging to achieve an accomplished singer’s status.”

“And you think that you are finally there?”

“Guruji thought so. That’s why he declared that my training was complete. I am now free to step out into the world and establish myself with the singing of Gwalior Gharana.”

Sadness tinged his tone. He stared down at his square-nailed fingers, hesitating. As if making up his mind. He glanced up.

“Guruma said that I could speak my mind to you. But how can I tell you that I feel so incomplete, so horrible? There was so much I would’ve said to Guruji. I never got a chance to tell him how much I appreciated what he did for me. I was caught up with unimportant ideas—thoughts, feelings that I had no right to feel. I believed that I was justified in what I thought, but I realise now that nothing justifies going against your teacher’s wishes. I have failed him in many ways. I have failed my father, because that was what Guruji was to me. He was like a father to me—to all of us.”

Tears flowed freely down his cheeks. “I wish I had listened to him! He was right and I was wrong!”

Jatin flashed his Boss a look. She was staring at Kirit, puzzled.

“Raujibua was right about what?” she asked the young man.

“About everything,” the singer mumbled. “About everything.”

The tiny yellow flowers of the mustard field bobbed with the wind. Vandana led Sonia and Jatin past the yawning hole of a huge stone well, then up a narrow mud path.

“I’m sure Bishan is here, since I couldn’t find him anywhere at all. He is prone to swinging moods and I’ve often found him in his favourite spot. Behind the water pump shed. Look—there he is.” Vandana pointed out a lone figure leaning against a Banyan tree. “Will you wait here a minute, Miss Samarth? I’ll just explain Mom’s request to him.”

Sonia nodded. She watched Vandana trudge over the path and tap Bishan on the shoulder. There was something about the girl that was rather appealing. Her confidence, the way she held her head?

“A rupee for your thoughts, Boss!” Jatin said. He picked up a stalk of straw and chewed on it.

“Just wondering if we are wasting our time.”

“Boss, a case is a case. Even if it is to prove that there is no case!” He grinned.

“Right!” She returned his smile, as she watched Vandana retrace her steps.

“Go ahead, Miss Samarth,” the girl said. “But be warned. He almost snapped my head off!” A faint smile curved her lips.

“Thanks!”

“You can find your way back to the house, can’t you?”

“Oh yes, we can, don’t worry. But it would be good if we could meet Sumeet immediately after this.”

Sonia and Jatin turned and headed towards Bishan. Black wavy hair was prematurely peppered with grey. His white kurta encased broad shoulders.

His deep black eyes glinted with anger. “What do you want?” he demanded harshly.

Sonia raised surprised eyebrows at his hostile tone.

“Didn’t Vandana explain? We’d like to talk to you.”

“Why? Why did Guruma ask me to speak to you? I don’t know you. You are not even connected with the family!”

“Perhaps because sometimes talking to an outsider helps relieve the grief?” Sonia suggested mildly. She chose a flat stone to sit on and motioned Jatin to do the same.

“Grief! I feel no grief. Only anger. Hot, burning anger! Why did Guruji have to quit like that? It’s so unfair!” he snarled.

“Most people don’t know exactly when a heart attack is going to strike them!” Sonia said wryly.

“But he was not supposed to die of heart attack. He was ill! He had some more years before he needed to say a final goodbye to us! He had so much more to teach us! He was a storehouse of musical knowledge— precious knowledge which only he possessed. He had no right to leave without completing his task. I feel so betrayed! So lost, lonely! I loved him so much!”

“And yet you had arguments with him?” Sonia inserted gently.

For a second, Bishan looked startled. “Arguments are a part of every healthy relationship! I admit that I did things which angered him, but at least I wasn’t stupidly obedient like his favorite, Sumeet! And yet Guruji chose and trained him to take his place! Even though Kirit and I are equally good singers. Guruji was partial and it made me mad! I feel that he ought to have waited and observed, to see who would really flourish in the music world. Who would really make Gwalior Gharana proud and who would keep his name flying high! Iwould have! And I will, but now he won’t be here to see it! To see that his choice was wrong!”

Bishan glared out at the horizon.

His self-confidence surprised Sonia.

“Perhaps he will. Perhaps his soul is here somewhere, waiting to see who really does him proud,” she supplied softly.

Bishan stared at her with eyes bright with unshed tears.

His sobbing wouldn’t cease. Sumeet’s tears flowed with an intensity which touched Sonia’s heart. The young man’s face was blotched and swollen with grief, and he shut his eyes tight to block the tears, but they squeezed out from the corners.

“I can’t talk now, please leave me alone!” he sobbed.

Sonia and Jatin sat in chairs opposite him.

“You loved him a great deal, didn’t you?” she remarked. “Gumma told me.”

“Guruma… yes, I loved him like I would never love anyone else in my life. He was everything to me! Everything... All I know of life comes from him. And now he’s gone! I shall never see him again, never talk to him, never go to him for advice… Oh, what shall I do!” He clasped his hands over his face.

Sonia maintained a respectful silence, waiting until his sobs tapered into hiccups. Jatin poured a glass of water from a jug and handed it to him. Sumeet accepted the glass absently, sipping indifferently from it. At length, he brushed away his tears, sniffed, and glanced at them.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s all right,” Sonia cut in quickly. “We understand.”

“Life is strange. But death is stranger,” he murmured. “Here I am, grieving because my father is no more. But what about him? I must think of him. It was the best thing that could have happened to him. He was suffering so much! And his dear wish—to die while listening to music… His dearest wish came true! I should thank God for that! That he passed away peacefully, just as he desired. Do you think I’m making sense?” Sumeet asked Sonia eagerly.

“Yes, perfect sense. I think only the most fortunate people see their dying wish come true.”

“Thank you! You’ve made me feel so much better. Now I can live with the thought that Guruji is happy, wherever he is. He’s free from all suffering. He’s at peace.”

The tears began squeezing silently out of his eyes again, but Sumeet seemed composed. Noiselessly, Sonia and Jatin slipped from the room.

The sitting room was beautiful. Red brick walls with huge windows which allowed the sun and trees to peep in. A tambora took a prominent position on a divan. A polished wooden rocking armchair with a flat red cushion sat opposite a music system.

“My husband’s favourite relaxing room,” Mrs. Dharkar told them. “This armchair is forty years old, and this tambora older than that. Nothing will change in this room. The furniture, the memories…”

Sonia moved to the music system. It was a cassette-cum-CD-player. A CD was still inside. The volume level was set high, much above the red line.

“Is this the CD he was listening to when…”

“Oh yes. Nothing’s been touched. I’ve kept the room locked since… since last evening. That CD was a gift from Kirit, Bishan, and Sumeet. They recorded a raag—Raag Hameer, a raag of inspiration—in a professional studio and presented it to their Guruji yesterday, as a parting gift. What fate that he should pass away as he listened to his own creations!”

“Can I take the CD along with me?” Sonia asked.

The older woman nodded. “Take whatever you may need and speak to whomever you think necessary. You shall have a free run of the estate. Just help me find peace of mind! And after you finish with this room, please join me for tea in the dining room.”

“Oh, you don’t have to…”

“No, I insist.”

The widow left the room, her back bent with the weight in her heart. As if all the grief in this house was infectious. Sonia closed her eyes, soaking in the atmosphere. There was something about this room. Where Raujibua had died. Something melancholy. A peaceful feeling, though, rather than any violent nature of death. Sad, yes, but something… she couldn’t place a finger on the exact sensation. More like what Sumeet had said. End of a suffering… peaceful passing away… fulfilling…

She had started her investigation with the intention of satisfying Mrs. Dharkar’s whim, but after speaking to the three students, she was beginning to sense the undercurrents Raujibua’s wife had mentioned. Undercurrents of jealousy, certainly, but had any of it to do with Raujibua’s death?

Sonia opened her eyes and found Kirit watching her curiously.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Trying to figure out what Raujibua’s feelings towards each one of you really were.” Sonia rose.

“He cared for us, but it was Sumeet he loved. There’s not an iota of doubt about that! All of us, we loved him each in our own way. As for Bishan, he had his own warped style of expressing his love for our teacher as well as respect for Gwalior Gharana music!” The sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that Bishan may claim to love music and his Guru, but his manner of exhibiting it was real strange! He did all those things that he had to abstain from during his training as a disciple of music. We are all supposed to quit smoking and drinking and absolutely no womanizing. Bishan followed each one of these vices with a regularity! Of course unknown to Guruji. Then we are supposed to do riyaz—vocal training—every dawn for at least three hours, and disciples of the Gwalior Gharana are expected to perform Shiva pooja—worship Lord Shiva. But, of course, our man Bishan had his own routine and his own deity of worship!”

“You sound very bitter!” Sonia observed.

“Do I? Then it’s the first time. I’ve stayed clear of Bishan for several weeks, but today, somehow, with Guruji gone, it’s difficult to stomach the fact that Bishan tricked him with his wild ways!”

“And Raujibua was unaware—”

“Until three days ago. Somehow he wised up to the situation. I’m not sure how, or who told him, but they had a massive showdown! I’m glad that Raujibua finally knew the truth about the kind of man Bishan really is.”

“And that satisfies your urge for justice?”

Kirit’s stance changed instantly. “Goodness, I hope I don’t sound as if I’m thrilled with Bishan’s fallout with Guruji! I didn’t mean it that way at all.”

“What did you mean?” Sonia asked, folding her arms.

Kirk seemed flustered. “Well, I feel that a disciple should perform all his duties. Do riyaz regularly and develop his own music. But Bishan seemed to get away with the cake in both hands! Had he been trained to take over Guruji’s place in the world of music, I think I would’ve personally warned Guruji of Bishan’s misbehaviour. Thankfully, it did not come to that!”

“No, because Sumeet was the chosen one!”

“Yes. To be very honest, though I was jealous initially, I do realize that I would’ve felt worse had it been Bishan that Guruji had chosen to succeed him. At least Sumeet deserved it. He is the perfect disciple and he served Guruji like none of us did. I tried hard, but somewhere along the line, I failed Guruji.” The wistful expression returned to his face.

A maid appeared in the doorway, requesting Sonia and Jatin to join Mrs. Dharkar in the dining room. Sonia turned to Kirit, who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.

“We’ll surely meet again. Until then, bye!” She noticed, as she and Jatin followed the sari-clad maid, that Kirit hadn’t moved from his place.

Mohnish was talking with the hostess when Sonia and Jatin joined them. Mrs. Dharkar gestured to the black-cushioned high-back chairs.

“Find anything useful?” Mrs. Dharkar asked anxiously.

“Too soon to pass an opinion,” Sonia answered honestly, not wishing to raise the lady’s hopes. “Though, I’m still probing.”

“Do that.” Mrs. Dharkar passed Sonia and Jatin tea in delicate ceramic golden cups.

Sonia sipped the tea thoughtfully. “Rimaji, my knowledge of classical music is really pathetic. Can you tell me what exactly is Gwalior Gharana?”

Mrs. Dharkar sighed. “My husband would’ve been the ideal person to answer your question, but I’ll tell you whatever I know. A Gharana literally means a dynasty, a family. A musical Gharana usually comes from the name of a particular city, like Jaipur, Kirana, Gwalior. Gwalior is a city in northern India. In the early eighteen hundreds, Daulatrao Shinde ruled over Gwalior and he appointed people as court musicians. They were looking for a new form of music. Niyamat Khan, a noted veena player, combined the then popular form of music called ‘kawali,” ’Tappa,“ and ”Thumri‘ which projected the universal theme of love, with the pure classical base of music in the form called Dhrupad. Niyamat tried personification—personification of musical terms. For example, he used the word mukhada, which means a face, in explaining music. The face of a person is beautiful, so we recognize a beautiful musical piece by its mukhada. He tried to incorporate these terms in his new form of music. Daulatrao Shinde liked his music so much, he declared that it should be called Gwalior Gharana.

“Different Gharanas have different styles and their own philosophies and ideologies. And it is called a Gharana because it is actually a tradition of knowledge and philosophy and there are different schools of music. They are also very rigid. Musicians are known to say that they would rather give their daughter but not their bandish—composition!”

“And what about riyaz and Shiva pooja?”

“Raujibua was extremely strict about both. He was orthodox and pious and expected his students to follow the rituals, which maintained the purity of music. After bathing, you have to face the direction of the dawning sun in your wet clothes and sing in the base voice till the sun rises. It is said that is how you attain the power of the sun, which in turn helps to attain musical power. It is a very important part of the training. Not everyone can withstand the rigorous routine. You see, hundreds of students came to Raujibua with the hope of learning music. Only a select few ever entered the teacher-student pact.”

“A pact?”

“Raujibua tested the talent of the students and only those he approved were involved in the Ganda Bandhane ceremony. This is a big ceremony in which the Guru ties a thread to the wrist of the selected student and promises to teach him his music and the student promises in turn to learn sincerely. Kirit, Bishan, and Sumeet are all such students.”

“Now I understand. I’ve been wondering why only those three are staying on the estate,” Sonia remarked. “And who is the best singer of the three?”

“Definitely Sumeet! He has also been here much longer than the other two and is the oldest. But the other two are quite good, too. Bishan especially shows promise. Both he and Sumeet can sing the Kadak Bijlee ki Taan in a raag. A raag is a musical note pattern which regales the audience. And a taan—how can I explain what a taan means? It’s something to be experienced. Let me put it like this.” Mrs. Dharkar paused momentarily. “It is the caressing, expanding, winding, rocking back and forth, crescendo, and glissando, and stretching of notes within a raag. A Kadak Bijlee ki Taan—a sudden expression of intricate note patterns— is one such taan. Extremely difficult and only a maestro who has put in years of devoted riyaz can perform such a taan.”

“And Sumeet could sing this taan?”

“Yes, and so could Bishan. Though Raujibua was extremely proud of them, he had forbidden both of them to sing it, since it requires tremendous energy.”

“Thank you, I feel quite learned with all this information.” Sonia spoke sincerely. “Do you think I could read up some more on it? Do you have a book I can refer to?”

“Oh yes, our library is well stocked. After tea, I’ll give you a book that I like very much.”

“One last question, Rimaji. Have you any idea how Panditji’s will is placed?” Sonia asked hesitantly.

Mrs. Dharkar nodded. “My husband was very rich. Being a renowned artist, he made a lot of money. Some is tied up in charitable institutions, but the bulk has been left to me and, after me, to Vandana. He has also left sizable sums to Kirk, Sumeet, and Bishan, to get them started in life.”

Sonia took in this information thoughtfully. “But Bishan had a fallout with his Guruji. Did that not affect Raujibua’s will?”

“I think it did. In fact, he did mention that he wished to make changes in his will. But before he could implement them, he passed away.”

Jatin flashed his Boss a quick look. This piece of information had definitely aroused her interest.

“Can you give me that book now?” Sonia asked.

“Of course.”

They followed Mrs. Dharkar to the library. Low-roofed and long, it gave the impression of a cozy tunnel. Books lined the walls and thick rugs covered the stone slabs. Mrs. Dharkar riffled through the pile of books on the table, then, frowning, she turned to the shelves nearby, scanning the titles. Finally she extracted a book and handed it to Sonia.

“This will do for the time being. It’s very basic but provides sufficient knowledge. The book I was actually looking for is not here. Probably one of the boys has borrowed it.”

“There’s something else I need before I leave,” Sonia said, accepting the book. “Horoscopes of the family.”

“I know. I’ve kept them ready. Mohnish informed me and I’ve also heard how you work miracles with the horoscopes. I only hope you can work some marvel for me!” The lady sighed.

Sonia impulsively squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Rimaji, I can tell you this much: If there is any hanky-panky in this business, I won’t rest till I find out what it is!”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me,” Mrs. Dharkar responded with a satisfied smile.

The first day of November was cold. Overnight, the weather had changed and a chilly wave seemed to hit the city. After her morning meal, Nidhi hunted out sunny spots and settled down to warm herself up. She knew it was useless hanging around her Mistress inside the office this morning, when she was in such a mood. And when so much noise seemed to rock the whole earth! And anyway, her Mistress wouldn’t notice her missing, she was so busy caught up with bits of papers.

Jatin had similar thoughts. He felt less tolerant of the loud, blaring music which emanated out of Sonia’s office, which seemed to instigate her thought processes, but which definitely punctured his desire for peace! Thankfully, his Boss had assigned him work, and he was glad to get out of the office.

Unaware of the prejudiced thoughts of her colleagues, Sonia was blissfully dancing with the Beatles’ rock and roll. The song and music entered her brain like a drug, triggering her energy and thought levels, and finally, when the song ended, she felt as if she were walking on air! As the next number thundered, she turned to the horoscopes laid out on the table. Pandit Raujibua Dharkar, Mrs. Dharkar, and Vandana. And below, Kirk, Bishan, and Sumeet. Her eyes travelled along the horoscopes, gauging and calculating.

She had arrived at the office that morning with a fresh mind. She knew that she had to be absolutely impartial in this investigation. Since she was dealing with Mrs. Dharkar’s intuition and with doubts which could be totally unfounded, she had to be careful. Working with only feelings and no proof was tricky business. So far, the interactions with the dead man’s family had yielded nothing concrete. Sonia had found no reason to believe that anything was amiss in the Dharkar household. Petty jealousies were a part of life, specially those that sprouted from professional rivalry. It did not necessarily mean that any one of the members would attempt murder. Mrs. Dharkar had a strong feeling that someone had killed her husband. Which seemed almost ridiculous, considering he had died of heart attack—a most natural cause of death. But Sonia had learnt the hard way never to scoff at a person’s intuition. The human mind is a stronger force of reckoning than most give it credit. And she had promised herself never to ignore the warning, however remote or subtle, the heart and mind gave. She had every intention of considering Mrs. Dharkar’s suspicions with serious respect. She would try to pin down the remotest possibility of foul play. She had laid out the horoscopes, with a huge responsibility weighing on her shoulders.

But the dancing had changed something. She once again experienced the familiar tingle of thrill as she studied the natal charts. The edge of excitement sharpened. Her eyes fell straight on a very strange planetary position. She caught her breath and stared at two of the horoscopes. And then a third. She bent over them and scrutinized the combination of stars and planets and all her assumptions suddenly veered off-course. This was it! This had to be it! If she was right… The Beatles song continued in the background, and on an impulse Sonia rose and began dancing again. She felt a restlessness, a driving force to uncover the truth.

She had to find out if she was right!

Suddenly she recalled something her mother had said to her as a child. The eyes of a dog are neutral and pure. They are mirrors which reflect the core and self of a human being. When you look at them, the way you regard them reveals your inner personality. A good human being will see a dog as a good soul, a bad one will see him as ugly—a man’s opinion is merely a reflection of his own image, impressions, and personality, and that is what he can see in the dog’s eyes. As the number ended, Sonia realised that her offbeat thinking was conceivable if she could apply her mother’s logic to reality. It was the only way to find out if she was right.

Feeling in a lighter frame of mind, she picked up the book on Gwalior Gharana that Mrs. Dharkar had lent her. After skimming through it, she tossed it aside and strode into the outer office to switch on the Internet, surfing sites, trying to read as much as she could on the Gharana.

An hour later, Jatin walked in, his spirits elevated with the fieldwork he had implemented.

“Hello, Boss!”

“You’re back! What have you learnt?” Sonia turned from the computer to face him.

“I spoke to some past students who are still in touch with the Dharkars, and generally made inquiries with the servants and in the restaurants around. I also got addresses of groups who organised performances of the Dharkars and where Sumeet was allowed to perform, by Raujibua, as a part of his Guru training. And anyway this is what I found out:

“Both Bishan and Kirit come from middle-class families from Madhya Pradesh. In fact, the two are from the same town. I believe they knew each other before they took up Raujibua’s training. And Bishan does have the reputation of painting the town red. A spate of girlfriends, late nights, drinking—he’s a real Casanova. But people have plenty of respect for his singing. Some of the people I spoke to even said that he was more talented than Sumeet. One of the past students claimed that if Bishan had not indulged in these vices, he could’ve overtaken Sumeet in a second!”

“Could you track down his latest girlfriend?” Sonia asked.

“I could!” Jatin grinned. “Courtesy Kirit!”

“Kirit?” Sonia felt no surprise. Somehow Kirit seemed eager to tarnish Bishan’s image.

“Kirit was most forthcoming on the phone when I spoke to him. He even offered me Padma’s address and cell number. She runs a beauty parlour, and I dropped by to chat with her.”

“You entered a ladies’ beauty parlour?” Sonia’s eyes widened in amazement.

Jatin blushed. “A job is a job, Boss. Besides, I was curious. I wanted to see it from the inside!”

“It’s not very different from a gents’ parlour!”

“No, but the customers are different!”

“Oh-oh! Now I get it!” Sonia laughed, secretly glad to see Jatin behaving like his usual self. “So did you meet with Padma?”

Her Assistant nodded. “She’s a pleasant girl. And crazy about Bishan, who she thinks has a heart of gold but a foul temper. She was aware of the jealousy between him and Sumeet and was most vocal on how hurt Bishan was that Guruji preferred Sumeet. And she also claimed that she hadn’t seen Bishan in a couple of days, since Guruji had forbidden him to meet with her.”

“What about Kirit? Where does he fit into this rivalry?”‘

“I don’t think he was ever a serious contender in the race for the privileged position of wearing the mantle of Gwalior Gharana. However, Kirit also has a spotless reputation, though he lags miles behind Sumeet. As for Sumeet, he is the only son of rich parents from Mumbai. Almost everyone I met seems in awe of him. He’s quiet and dignified, doesn’t waste time chatting and socializing, and has only one goal: to devote his life to music and to his Guru. Everyone appreciated how well he had served Raujibua. All felt that he deserved the honour of carrying forward the name of the Gharana.”

“Hmm… Spotless reputation and respectable character, you mean.”

“Absolutely. Not a soul had a word to say against him.”

“Jatin, let’s order some Pav Bhaji and then go to the Dharkar residence. Something is not right there.”

Jatin raised surprised eyebrows. “You mean Mrs. Dharkar could be right? That Raujibua… ?”

“I’m working on a hunch. But it’s going to take a lot of effort and creativity to prove that hunch right!”

“Boss, please, stop talking in riddles.”

“I will, as soon as we have visited the Dharkar residence again.”

“Right!”

“And please find Nidhi and ask her to return to the office! I haven’t seen her in hours!”

“Right, Boss!”

Kirit neatly folded his shirts and placed them into his suitcase, conscious of the sharp eyes of Sonia standing behind him and her quiet yet observant friend, Jatin.

“You’re a detective, aren’t you?” he asked casually. “Sonia Samarth—the astro-crime genius!”

Sonia idly moved from the doorway into the room. “Who told you?”

“Vandana,” he responded briefly. “What exactly are you doing here, Miss Samarth?”

“I’m here on Mrs. Dharkar’s request,” Sonia replied honestly. “As a kind of a counsellor, someone who can apply balm to her shock and pain.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” Kirit paused in his actions and turned to her, curiosity stamped on his face.

“By speaking to the inmates of the house. By satisfying her that each member of this family is stepping out into the world with a clean conscience.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll understand soon enough. Are you leaving?”

“Yes, Guruma said we could leave as per our original plan. If Guruji hadn’t passed away, we would have been gone by now anyway. But of course I shall be back for the tenth day and thirteenth day rituals. I’m only visiting a cousin in the city.”

Sonia threw a glance over the clutter on the table. The photo frame still stood with its single photo of Kirit, and she wondered again if a photo had to go in or had been removed. The question nestled at the back of her mind. A book on stalwarts in the field of classical music was lying beside it.

“Can I borrow this book? I believe Mrs. Dharkar was looking for it, in order to lend it to me, but she couldn’t find it,” Sonia asked, picking up the fat book with well-worn pages.

“Go ahead. We’ve all been reading it and it’s a great book. It’s in Hindi, though…”

“That’s okay. I just want to improve my knowledge, that’s all. Kirit, are you aware that your Guruji left you a sizable amount of money in his will?”

“Guruji mentioned it.”

“That money will really help you to begin a serious career in music, won’t it?”

“It’s a boon. I am very grateful to Guruji for his thoughtfulness.”

“From what I hear he was a very benevolent man and most considerate. I believe he even regularly funded animal welfare organisations which are usually totally neglected. Oh, by the way, do you like animals?”

“Animals?” Kirit paused in his packing. “Yes, I do!”

“I love animals. I have a cat called Nidhi and she’s smart. A real sad thing happened on the way here today. A car hit a stray cat while he was crossing the street. You know how awful our traffic is! The poor cat thought he would quickly run across, but it was sheer bad timing. Poor thing was tossed off the road, and was badly hurt. I took him immediately to a vet. But he was suffering so much, I couldn’t bear it. What does one do in such a case?”

“Not much. Have faith in the Doctor and hope for the best,” the young musician replied with a shrug.

“The poor cat was in so much pain that I had half a mind to ask the Doctor to put him to sleep.”

Kirit looked shocked. “I hope you didn’t do any such thing. Just let nature take its own course. Everything in life is predestined. Every joy, every pang of pain, hurt, and suffering. It is best not to interfere with what God has planned.”

Sonia nodded. “I thought the same.”

“I’m not sure. Depends on how much the cat is suffering, I guess. After all, relieving him of his pain, any way you can, is important,” Sumeet replied. He was tuning his tambora and his forehead was creased with frown lines.

“I thought so, too,” Sonia agreed. “The poor little thing. Bounding around joyfully one minute and flat across the street the next instant.”

She moved around the room idly, studying the articles on the table, riffling through some photocopied information on music. She extracted a page casually, ran an eye over it, and returned it to the pile.

“That’s life. Unpredictable,” Sumeet said. “Sometimes beautiful, often treacherous. But just once in a while, destiny slips into your hands and allows you to take charge. And that is the most satisfactory moment in your life.”

“Such moments are very rare, though,” Sonia remarked. “Sumeet, are you aware that Guruji has left you enough money in his will to get you started in life?”

“Of course. He shared every thought, every decision, with me. He consulted me before he took this decision.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said his blessings were enough for us. Luckily for me, I come from a well-settled family and will never lack for anything. My parents will be only too happy to let me do whatever I want to with the family inheritance. But I’m afraid the other two are not so fortunate. I thought that monetary aid would certainly prove useful to them and told Guruji so.”

Sonia nodded with an appreciative glint in her eyes. “You said the right thing.”

Jatin glanced at his boss in surprise. She was truly up to something.

“What did the Doctor say?” Bishan asked.

“That the cat did not have long to live,” Sonia answered. She had found the singer lying on his bed, staring vacantly at the ceiling. But he had risen up immediately on her entrance and greeted her more civilly that the last time. Now he was listening to her intently.

“The poor cat. I would have done the same. Taken him to a Doctor and then perhaps an animal welfare shelter, given them money to look after it as long as it lived. I really cannot bear to see animals suffer. Guruji and I had that one thing really in common. I remember we both nursed a bird with a broken wing. Our joy knew no bounds when it finally began to fly again!”

Tears rose in his eyes and he brushed them away hastily. “I’m sorry. I’m still not used to the idea of Guruji leaving us for good.”

Sonia nodded. “Bishan, did you know that Raujibua had made arrangements in his will for you?”

“You mean the money he’s supposed to have left us? Yes, I did. But that must’ve changed now. Specially after the massive argument we had, when he threatened to disown me.”

“Nothing’s changed. Raujibua Dharkar died before he could change his will,” Sonia supplied gently.

Bishan stared at her with a strange look in his black eyes.

Sonia stood in the mustard field of the Dharkars’ and watched Vandana stroll through the field. The girl was deep in thought and seemed unaware that Jatin and Sonia were close.

“What are you thinking, Boss?” Jatin asked.

“I’ve spoken to everyone except Vandana. I think it’s time I had a chat with her.”

“Vandana?” Jatin turned to the lone figure, amidst the yellow flowers and green field. “But…”

“I’ve been suspecting something since yesterday. I need to confirm it. Will you wait here, while I have a small chat with her?”

“All right, Boss. It’s beautiful here anyway!” Jatin happily settled on a flat stone, as his Boss strode through the field with purposeful steps, towards Mrs. Dharkar’s daughter.

Sonia stared at the horoscopes, her eyes flicking and her mind nibbling on the myriad thoughts which seemed to be jostling for attention. She knew that the answer was close. And yet still out of grasp. She sat back against her chair, cradling a warm cup of chai. Nidhi curled in her lap. Sonia sipped the chai, her thoughts churning. Casually, she picked up the music book which she had borrowed from Kirit. There were different sections on different singers from different Gharanas. Sonia turned to the Gwalior section. Her Hindi was excellent and she had no problem understanding the language. Suddenly her hand paused on a page. It was dog-eared and as she began reading it, her heart began thudding. She placed the cup aside and read each word of the page carefully and thoroughly Then, rising hastily, she muttered an apology to Nidhi, who protested loudly. She removed the CD she had taken from Mrs. Dharkar from her handbag and inserted it into her player. Finally, she buzzed the intercom.

“Jatin?”

“Yes, Boss?”

“See that I’m not disturbed for at least half an hour.”

“Right, Boss!”

Sonia played the CD and relaxed in her chair as the raag began. The three voices were very good. The raag began slowly, as each of the students vocalized their talent. A slight reverb to their voices added a touch of reverence. Raag of inspiration, Mrs. Dharkar had told her. Sonia closed her eyes. She allowed the three beautiful voices to unwind, caress, gain tempo, flourish, scale, and dip, thrilling her with the essence of the music. She felt her heart fill with the music and her body tingle with inspiration.

A while later, she walked out into the outer office. Her face was flushed.

“Boss?” Jatin asked with immediate concern. “Are you all right?”

“Jatin, we are going over to the Dharkar residence at once!”

“I accept it!” Bishan burst out. “I did it! I killed our Guruji!”

Mrs. Dharkar, Sonia, Jatin, Kirit, Vandana, and Sumeet stared at him. Bishan was sobbing uncontrollably, his sobs rending from his heart.

The dim lights in the sitting room, Raujibua’s favourite room, bestowed the space with a cozy glow. Evening had fallen on the Dharkar residence but the whole house looked like an illuminated lantern at the foot of the Sinhagad hill. But inside, the atmosphere was tense. When Sonia and Jatin had arrived, Mrs. Dharkar had brought them straight to the group gathered in Raujibua’s sitting room, where Bishan had insisted that everyone be present. He had something to tell them all.

“Please forgive me Guruji, because I know I can never forgive myself!” Bishan continued in between sobs.

“But Raujibua had a heart attack,” Sonia suggested gently. “What is there to forgive?”

“Yes, a heart attack—because of me! I was unruly, I misbehaved, I did everything he told me not to do! I never did riyaz, I thought I was so talented! I dated and… slept with women, something he disapproved of. I went against everything he believed sacred! And I didn’t stop at that! I argued with him and fought with him on stupid issues and I hurt him so badly that he had a heart attack!”

His whole body trembled with guilt and grief, but no one moved to console him. Kirit stared at him, his face a mix of sympathy and anger, and Sumeet stared at the floor expressionlessly. Vandana was observing Kirit and Sumeet. Only Mrs. Dharkar’s face expressed compassion. She glanced at Sonia questioningly.

“You’re right, Bishan. You did contribute to Raujibua’s early death,” Sonia said finally. “He would’ve probably lived for a couple of years more, but your behaviour hastened his early demise.”

“I don’t want his money. I cannot touch it now! I killed my Guruji and I will never forgive myself for it!”

“You are justified in blaming yourself, but you are not the only one, are you?”

The others turned to Sonia in astonishment. Bishan raised a tearstained face. Sonia angled towards Kirit, facing him with a glint in her brown eyes.

“You contributed to Raujibua’s death, too, Kirit, didn’t you?”

Kirit flushed. “What… what do you mean?”

“I mean the roaring argument you had the day after Bishan had his discussion with Raujibua.”

The room was suddenly filled with curious anticipation, as all eyes were trained on Sonia and Kirit.

“Kirit, would you like to tell us why you had a showdown with your Guruji?” Sonia prompted.

Kirit maintained his silence. Sonia sighed.

“All right!” She faced the others, her eyes travelling from face to face, to finally rest on Vandana. “Ever since I arrived here and began questioning the inmates of this household, I was under the impression that the main cause behind this whole story was jealousy.

Among Raujibua’s three disciples, or to put it more clearly, jealousy towards Sumeet. Both Bishan and Kirit were envious that Sumeet had been chosen by Raujibua as his chief disciple. But I was wrong. I realised soon enough that the underlying emotion in this whole issue was not jealousy, but love! Kirit’s love for Vandana!“

Mrs. Dharkar gasped, flashing a glance at her daughter. Vandana averted her gaze, blushing deeply. Bishan and Sumeet looked amazed. Kirit refused to utter a single word.

“Kirit and Vandana have been seeing each other and meeting clandestinely for a couple of years now. But when Raujibua got the wind of it, he was furious! He regarded this as outrageous, as a betrayal worse than Bishan’s immoral behaviour, in fact. Almost a sin, since love between his disciple and his daughter was for him like incest. He not only forbade Kirit to ever meet Vandana again, but he threatened to cut Kirit out of his will. Kirit was horrified. This was something he hadn’t expected. He knew he couldn’t live without Vandana, he loved her too much. But he desperately needed the money Raujibua had promised him. He had to do something before his Guruji attempted to change the will. And he did it, most beautifully.”

Kirit stared at Sonia, stricken. But he still did not speak. Tears glistened in Vandana’s eyes as she edged towards the young man.

“The whole episode with Kirit and Bishan really drove Raujibua out of his mind, making him weak and defenceless. So Kirit took advantage of it. The three students had planned to record Raag Hameer in their voices and present it to their Guruji as a parting gift. Bishan was made to sing the Kadak Bijlee ki Taan within the raag, which Bishan did—totally unaware that he had fallen prey to a fascinating scheme and taken the first major step towards killing Raujibua!”

“How’s that?” Bishan demanded, looking stunned.

Sonia held up the Hindi book on classical singers. “I don’t know how many of you have read this book. There’s a true story in this, a story which supplied Kirit with the seed of his plan. About a famous singer of Gwalior Gharana named Hassu Khan, a singer whose voice was known to be a miracle. His popularity rose because of his divine singing but it also angered the already established court singer, an older man named Mohamad Khan. As the competition between the two singers increased, the envious Mohamad Khan decided to get rid of Hassu Khan, in the most clever fashion possible. One day, in a Sangeet Mehfil—a singing gathering—Mohamad Khan praised Hassu Khan and asked him to sing Raag Malhaar. Unaware that this request held a cunning reasoning on the part of the older singer, Hassu Khan began. This raag contained the Kadak Bijlee ki Taan, a taan which required great effort on the part of the singer. Hassu Khan sang it. Mohamad Khan praised him highly and said ‘Shabbash Bete! Once more!” Encouraged, Hassu Khan sang the taan again and burst a vein. Soon after this incident, Hassu Khan died!“

Silence breathed in the room. Sonia’s gaze travelled from one face to the other.

“Kadak Bijlee ki Taan. A very poignant taan, one which requires every ounce of energy to sing and which can kill the person who is singing it and can startle and create an uneasiness amongst the listeners. Not only that. It can also kill a listener with a weak heart and a body that is frail and dying. Such is the impact of the powerful taan, which flashes like a lightning— bijlee—just like its name. And Kirit knew it. He was aware that if Raujibua, who had forbidden his disciples to sing this taan, heard it, he would be so shocked that anything could happen. Anything—that he could even die! And he was correct. When Raujibua, who was ailing and already emotionally rattled and upset by his disciples, heard the CD, the electric taan sung by Bishan stunned him with its forceful effect and brought on his heart attack. A very natural death, but also a cunning murder. No knife, no poison, no stains, no telltale proofs. Clean and bloodless. Right, Kirit?”

Kirit was white, his lips pinched. He rose unsteadily and wordlessly walked out of the room. Vandana’s horrified expression spoke volumes. She flew after him, her face pale with consternation. Bishan looked astounded. Sumeet’s face expressed incredulity. Only Mrs. Dharkar appeared composed.

“Rimaji, can we have some chai?” Sonia suggested. She suddenly felt drained.

“Right away, in the dining room,” Mrs. Dharkar said crisply. “Come along, everyone.”

The tambora rested on the divan, a lone instrument sharing the melancholy peace of the shadowy sitting room. A figure slipped into the room and paused. Then, slowly, it moved to the armchair and kneeled before it, clasping the arms of the chair, as if trying to soak in the presence of Raujibua. Tears fell on the worn, polished wood. At last, with sudden resolve, the figure rose and headed straight towards the CD player. As a hand extended to the volume button, the room was abruptly illuminated.

“Sumeet, I accuse you of mercy-killing your Guruji, Pandit Raujibua Dharkar!” Sonia’s voice rang out coldly.

Startled, Sumeet straightened. He stared into the determined faces of Sonia, Jatin, and Mrs. Dharkar. From the other side of the room, Vandana, Kirit, and Bishan emerged, their faces hard and unsympathetic.

“You did it, didn’t you? You were the one who suggested the taan!” Bishan exclaimed angrily. “You made me sing it!”

“Sumeet?” Kirit spoke in a quiet voice.

Sumeet’s shoulders slumped and he sighed. His face was tearstained, but his voice was steady when he answered. “Yes, I did it.”

“But why?” Kirit asked, bewildered. “You loved him!”

“That is precisely why he did it!” Sonia said. “As I said before, the base of this whole episode is love. Sumeet’s all-eclipsing love for his Guruji. Sumeet was the perfect student, but more than that, he was the perfect son. He nursed his Guruji, met his smallest need, followed every word of his strictly and religiously and saw that his teacher was completely comfortable and satisfied in whatever he required. But then the end of the training neared and the thought terrified him. How would his Guruji cope without him? The older man was suffering too much. I think it was then that the idea entered Sumeet’s head that he had to end his Guruji’s suffering, and as per his Guruji’s wish, ensure that he died listening to music. That, according to Sumeet, was his last duty to Raujibua. He planned the CD as a gift, making Bishan sing the special taan, and also squealing on Bishan and Kirit, by informing Raujibua about the other students’ secrets, making the sick man emotionally weak. And as a last coup, he turned on the volume over the normal range, just before the taan, to ensure the effect he desired. Raujibua suffered a massive heart attack before his eyes. Sumeet succeeded in his mercy-killing. That’s the way it happened, didn’t it, Sumeet?”

Sumeet’s breathing was shallow. “I loved him a lot. Who would look after him after I left? Some undeserving student would replace me, undedicated like Bishan, trying to take my place. How could anyone ever take my place? How could Guruji live without me? And his illness—so often he would writhe in pain as I held his hand, trying to offer him comfort. How often he said to me that even death would be better than that! It was heartrending! I couldn’t bear the thought of him in some hospital, fighting for his life, away from his music. I had to take destiny into my hands. I had to end his suffering, make his last wish come true. It was the only way I could repay my debt to him. The only way he would ever truly understand my love for him. And so I planned it right. I had read that story about Hassu Khan, so I knew that it wasn’t difficult. And I was successful. I increased the volume, so as not to take any chances. That moment when Guruji passed away, I was filled with sadness and yet with triumph, too. It was an incredible feeling. I was with him and I helped him pass from one state of being to another, from one world to another.”

The widowed woman stared with revulsion at Sumeet, who seemed not to notice any of their reactions. Bishan’s face was contorted with rage, as he rushed towards Sumeet and caught him by the scruff of the neck.

“You monster!” he shouted. “You murdered our Guruji! Don’t you see, you brute! I’ll kill you for it! I’ll—”

“Stop it, Bishan!” Sonia exclaimed, as Kirit and Jatin rushed forward to unscruff the motionless Sumeet.

“I hate him! I will avenge Guruji’s death! Sumeet allowed me to think that I was the one responsible for his death and I—”

“The police will take care of Sumeet, not you.”

“Stop it, all of you!” Mrs. Dharkar interrupted fiercely. “Go away! Bishan and Kirit, go and pack. Just go away, all of you!” She burst out in tears.

Vandana swiftly moved forward. Taking her mother by the shoulders, she led her out of the room. Sonia stared at Sumeet as he sat, apparently unaffected by their response. An expression of resigned sadness crossed her face.

“It was the horoscopes, of course,” Sonia remarked. “They told me a remarkable story.”

Mohnish grinned. “Of course!”

Sonia returned his smile. “Do I sound cliched?”

“Almost!”

“But it’s the truth!” Jatin protested.

Sonia nodded. “I am really grateful to my horoscopes for giving me precious nuggets of information on which I can base my deductions. Though I admit that I began this process of discovery with a sandwiched mind—sandwiched between Mrs. Dharkar’s sixth sense of trouble and my own caution. It felt like setting off into a dark tunnel in the middle of the night, with no light to guide me. Except Mrs. Dharkar’s instincts. Which I knew that I wouldn’t ignore until she was proved wrong. It was a precarious situation. So I approached the issue with an emotionless, unbiased mind. When I spoke to each one of the disciples, I realised that they were so different—in their approach to life, to music, and to one another. Bishan was rude and hostile, Kirit was keen to tarnish Bishan’s image, and Sumeet seemed totally self-absorbed. And that is what interested me most about Sumeet. The other two, despite their faults, appeared human. But Sumeet’s detachment and the cocoon he was living in distinguished him, proving him to be of far tougher material than the others. But Mrs. Dharkar’s suspicions really began to seem real to me once I read the horoscopes. The difference in each individual was very clear, and the moment I saw Vandana’s and Kirit’s horoscopes, I read the attraction between them, too strong to hide. And I think it had become obvious to Raujibua, too. His comment to his wife that people are not always what they seem and that the best of people can give you pain was intended for Kirit and not Bishan, as I’d thought earlier. The frame in Kirit’s room clearly betrayed that a photo had been removed from the other side of the frame. The first time we visited his room, there were several photos on his table, and many of them were of Vandana—solo and in groups. And a particular solo photo was crumpled round the corners. Although I didn’t make the connection till I read the horoscopes and realized that a very strong emotion was binding the two of them. But since there were no outward signs of affection between them, I decided to tackle that issue by asking Vandana directly and she came out in the open about it, revealing all.

“It was when I was studying Sumeet’s horoscope, however, that I discovered a most peculiar trait. In fact, I found his entire horoscope fascinating. Libra was his zodiac sign and Aries was in the ascendant. Venus in the second house in its own sign, Taurus, with Neptune in the opposition, showed him to be a great singer. At the same time Rahu and Saturn in the fifth house—the house of education—clearly warned that his learning would not be useful to him. Which I thought was very strange. After putting in years of such hard work, why would his training be futile? But worse, Saturn aspecting the second house, as well as the Sun, in its tenth position, suggested that Sumeet’s knowledge of music—in his case, singing—would cause him great humiliation. And then I saw the Moon—the planet of the mind—in conjunction with Harshal in the seventh house, with Mars aspecting directly, as well as Saturn aspecting in its third position—a combination of stars specifying an unbalanced moment of decision which could be dangerous and murderous! But Jupiter in Cancer revealed Sumeet to be a good man at heart, with tremendous respect for his teacher. The Lord of his zodiac sign Libra—Venus—was in its own star sign, which meant that Sumeet was not a veteran bad man!

“So I asked myself: If his intentions were good, what would be his moment of unbalanced decision which would goad him to commit a crime? Could it be connected with Raujibua’s death? And if yes, how could Sumeet be involved with it? Everyone, including Sumeet himself, claimed that he loved his Guruji to a point of self-effacement. If he loved his teacher so much, why in heaven’s name would he try to do away with the man? The motive eluded me, and for a while I was baffled. Until I realized that the motive in this whole affair was not hate, not jealousy, not money— but love! A vague idea of the whole situation began to form in my head. But I had absolutely no way of knowing whether I was on the right track. So I concocted a story about a cat being hit by a car to gauge the reactions of all three students. Each man’s response to the story revealed his level of emotional tolerance and his view on death. Sumeet predictably confirmed that he wouldn’t hesitate from ending the cat’s suffering. And there lay my answer. Sumeet, who loved his Guruji beyond measure, who had nursed his Guruji selflessly, had mercy-killed his Guruji. The motive was obvious—compassion, duty, and misplaced love. But how had he pulled it off? How could a person provoke a heart attack in another man? And the answer fell straight into my hands in the form of the Hassu Khan story. And then I suddenly remembered seeing a photocopy of the story on Sumeet’s table and I knew for certain he had done it! And how!

“Once I listened to the CD, everything fell in place. While I was listening to the raag, a voice sang a taan. The music was electric, piercing my brain and mind like a shock of lightning. Goose bumps prickled all over my body. Within seconds, the other voices had resumed their regular singing, but the effect of that taan still held me captive. And finally, in a flash, I knew why Mrs. Dharkar had had her suspicions. She was aware that such a taan could have its ill effects. And she was right.

“The CD with the Kadak Bijlee ki Taan had indeed killed Raujibua. But how could I prove that? Then I remembered the volume button on the CD player. If I could get Sumeet to rearrange the volume level, it would be enough proof for my theory. So I enlisted Kirit’s aid. I requested him to sit tight-lipped as I flung my accusations. He was shocked, but he cooperated brilliantly. Bishan’s confession of his guilt, followed by my accusation of Kirit, convinced Sumeet that all was over and that he could safely eliminate the only thing that might give him away. Since the room had been continuously locked since Raujibua’s death, he hadn’t had a chance to do so. Or maybe he never thought anyone would connect the CD with the heart attack, so he hadn’t seen the urgency to return the level to normal. Anyway, as justice would have it, we were there to witness him do so!”

“Fantastic!” Mohnish exclaimed. “But had Mrs. Dharkar suspected this?”

“I think she suspected that it had something to do with the jealousies running amongst the students. And her husband’s dying wish being realised must have troubled her as being too much of a coincidence. It was also a little strange that it was while listening to the students’ CD that her husband had passed away. She had, of course, read the Hassu Khan story and wanted me to read the book. But she couldn’t find it. I found it later in Kirit’s room. But she couldn’t make open accusations, specially since she loved all her students and Sumeet had devoted his life to her husband. How could she even mention that any one of them had indulged in foul play? At the same time, she couldn’t ignore her doubts. She had to get her conscience cleared. And I’m glad she did. Killing, whether it is mercy or otherwise, is an unforgivable act!”

“What a peculiar use of music,” Jatin remarked.

Sonia nodded. “Music is beautiful, powerful, and magical. And, most important, it heals. This may be the first time that someone actually used it to kill.”

“But, Boss, what about Vandana and Kirit? What’s going to happen to those two now?”

“I think that’s for Mrs. Dharkar to decide. I would be willing to bet she won’t mind having a son-in-law she loves like a son.”

“And Bishan?”

“He and Kirit will together carry on Raujibua’s name in the world. I believe that they are resolving all their differences.”

“And what about Sumeet? What’s going to happen to him?”

“That’s for Inspector Divekar to decide. It’s a fact that he hasn’t actually been caught in the act of murdering Raujibua and the proof against him is flimsy. But he confessed to us and now it’s up to the police to make a case against him. One thing is for sure, Sumeet will never represent Gwalior Gharana ever again! That in itself is, I believe, his life sentence! The stigma, the humiliation, and a life without his beloved music! I can’t imagine a worse punishment for him!”

“So nothing has happened as Raujibua envisioned. Sumeet, his favourite student, will never represent him again,” Mohnish said.

“Good! What a cold-hearted decision that was, deliberately ending his Guru’s life and justifying it with a good cause!” Jatin remarked. “I can’t imagine doing something like that to my Guru, Boss, however much I love you or care for you!”

“Thank you, I’m most relieved to hear that!” Sonia raised her eyes heavenwards.

“You can enjoy a peaceful night now.” Mohnish grinned.

Sonia laughed. “Thanks to my loyal assistant!”

8

The Letters

The rays of a weak December sun slanted in through the window. Wrapped in a warm Kashmiri red shawl, Sonia held her hands over the room heater in the outer office. Nidhi lay tucked on a chair, occasionally licking a paw. Jatin was busy at the computer.

“What a cozy scene! Mind if I join you?” Without awaiting an invitation, Mohnish strode in and settled down beside the heater.

He wore a soft, guava-green sweater over black trousers. An unusual colour for a man, Sonia noticed, but it looked good on his tall, handsome frame.

“What brings you here so early in the morning?” she asked.

“The guarantee of a cup of chai on a very cold day!”

Jatin looked up from the computer and grinned. “I heard you!”

“And also to share with you a discovery I have made!” Mohnish added, and was pleased to see the quickened interest on Sonia’s face. She looked extremely appealing in the red shawl, her face flushed and rosy with the warmth of the heater.

“Breaking news!” Her liquid brown eyes glinted.

“Absolutely. Tell me, when did you first receive a threatening note?”

Sonia frowned. “I think it was in May.”

“And when did Devika see ‘the ghost’ for the first time?”

“In May.”

“Right. And when did the second note appear?”

“July,” Jatin spoke up, shutting down his computer. “I remember Boss was to attend a wedding in Mumbai and that same day there was a report in the newspaper about the ghost being spotted around our office.”

“I’m surprised at your wonderful memory!”

“I’m not. I introduced Naina to Boss that day,” Jatin replied dolefully.

“And the third note appeared around the end of October. Devika found it tucked into the nameplate!” Sonia exclaimed.

“And I saw the ghost with my own eyes the night before!” Jatin declared.

“See what I mean? The notes always seem to be linked with the appearance of your ghost!” Mohnish raised an eyebrow.

“Of course! Why didn’t I make the connection?” Sonia seemed amazed.

“Because, Boss, you never took the notes seriously enough to apply your mind categorically to them!” her assistant reprimanded as he handed out cups of chai.

“Yes, I guess you’re right,” Sonia admitted. “But that was very smart of you.” She smiled at Mohnish.

“Thank you, ma’am. Although, I haven’t finished yet.” Mohnish took a long satisfied sip from his cup. “The gap between each note and the visits of the ghost to the office has been approximately a month to two months. Which means that his scheduled visit to deliver another threatening note ought to be around this time.”

Sonia nodded. “I’d love to catch hold of this guy and find out what he has against us!”

“Exactly what I had in mind. I have a plan. Beginning tomorrow, we take turns and stay on guard here during the night. Sooner or later, he’ll prowl around and then we can nab him!”

“Excellent idea! I’ll take the first turn tomorrow night!” Jatin enthused.

“And Nidhi and I’ll take the next!” Sonia added.

“I think we’ll do it together,” Mohnish suggested mildly.

“Why? I’m perfectly capable of taking on a make-believe ghost!” Sonia turned a stern eye on him.

“Absolutely! But I’m not!” Mohnish replied gravely.

“I don’t believe you!”

“Let me admit it: I’m scared of the dark! I can’t sit alone for two minutes before the palpitations begin.”

Sonia scrutinised his face. “You’re not making this up?”

Mohnish shook his head, his expression serious.

“All right!” Sonia shrugged. “We’ll keep watch together.”

“Good, that’s resolved!” Jatin sounded relieved.

He was aware that the slightest suggestion of her incapacity would not have gone down well with his Boss.

He rubbed his hands gleefully. “I can’t wait to give that ghost a rap on his bottom with my hockey stick!”

“It may happen sooner than you think.” Mohnish rose. “That’s settled, then. I’ve got to go. See you later!”

Sonia stared at the email. After Mohnish had left, she and Jatin had a delicious early lunch of Pav Bhaji. Now, well satiated, she was checking her email. She was not in the least surprised when she read The Owl’s one-liner.

“Sonia, I need to meet with you!”

Brief, and yet it sent the blood in her veins zinging! Varun Thakur had sent two mails last week, each with the same note of urgency, but she had ignored them completely. She didn’t wish to be enmeshed in a web of attraction she had no power to extract herself from. Because she had finally come to terms with the fact that she was far from indifferent to Varun. The Owl drifted in and out of her life like a welcome breeze on a hot day. Her brief encounter with him at Lonavala Station had only proved that she was in grave danger of falling for an international crook. And that would certainly be her worst crime. If she had an iota of sense—and she claimed she had oodles of sense—she would steer clear of the remotest shadow of The Owl. Sever all ties with him. And that was exactly what she had in mind.

She hit the reply icon and quickly wrote an answer. Brief and concise.

“I don’t wish to see you. Consider yourself lucky that I have as yet not revealed your emails to the police‘.”

She read and reread the response several times. Then, satisfied that the message conveyed her feelings well, she dispatched it and returned to her surfing.

Jatin was in front of the TV, watching the One Day International Cricket match being played in Chennai. He yelled in joy as someone hit a sixer, and smiled gleefully as the crowd cheered wildly in the stadium. Like all cricket lovers, he was as involved with the match as if he were playing it himself. Sonia was glad that he was gradually getting over the Naina experience. He had the resilience of youth on his side, and very soon Naina would be a hazy memory, Sonia was positive of it. On an impulse, she shut down the computer and joined him.

“Boss, did you see that hit? It was superb! India just needs fifty runs to win from thirty-five balls! This is going to get more and more exciting!”

For the next half hour, the atmosphere in the office was electric. Despite her lukewarm interest in the game of cricket, Sonia found herself catching her breath every time the batsman hit the ball, and clapping hard with Jatin as the score rose. Finally, with two balls to go and five runs to make, their eyes were glued to the TV set, as millions of eyes all over India would be. The captain of the opposite team rearranged the players on the field and the bailer took his own time, rubbing the ball against his trousers, taking a head start. The batsman took a swipe at the ball, hitting it straight into the audience. A six! And India had won the match! Jatin jumped wildly and Sonia joined him, amazed at the sense of patriotism and pride that swelled in her heart. The stadium was roaring as the game ended and all the players were congratulating one another. Crackers began bursting on F.C.Road, celebrating the success of the Indian team.

“What a classic win!” Devika declared as she walked in. In jeans and a flamboyant orange woollen top, she looked slick.

“Fantastic!” Jatin agreed.

“Only, I wish they wouldn’t spoil the win by creating sound and air pollution,” Sonia remarked. “I wonder where they produce these crackers from, at the drop of a ball?”

“Boss,” her assistant explained with forced patience, “they keep a stock ready, specially for the matches.”

“Really? What foresight!” his Boss replied, with a grimace.

Devika laughed. “Cricket and Hindi films are the twin hearts of our country!”

“You said it!” Jatin agreed heartily.

“Are you terribly busy right now?” Devika asked Sonia, on a more serious note.

“The match is over, the emails are gone, and Nidhi is sleeping.” Sonia smiled.

“Good. Because I want to ask you to do me a favour,” Devika said.

“Sure! Let’s go into my office.”

Devika followed her into the inner office. There, she delved into her handbag and extracted an ornate wooden box with a tiny latch on it. The detective eyed it curiously, but kept silent.

“About a year ago my grandmother expired. She lived alone here, in Pune. She was a very grand lady, strong and courageous. She raised my mother and her brother single-handedly because my grandfather expired very early in her life. Anyway, I was cleaning up the attic some months ago and discovered this box.”

Devika thrust forward the carved box. “Go ahead, open it.”

Sonia did as she was told. The box was of good wood, the polish gone but the carving still ornate and excellent. She raised the lid. A sheaf of papers, rolled up and held securely by a faded, red satin ribbon, lay inside.

“They are letters written by my grandmother to a friend. Letters which apparently she never posted, for some private reason. I read them. They are all addressed to a very close male friend and I feel it’s my duty to hand him his property. When you read them, you’ll understand what I mean.”

“You want me to read these?”

Devika nodded. “Not only do I want you to read them, I’d be grateful if you could locate this man for me, because I’d feel so much better when I hand those letters over to him.”

Sonia glanced at the box and touched the letters. She was reluctant to read someone’s private thoughts, especially those of an old lady. It was like invading someone’s sacred space and polluting it.

“Are you sure you want me to go through them? Can’t you just tell me what’s in them? And we’ll try to find this man?”

“It’s not that simple. I know it’s a little awkward reading private mail. I felt some qualms, too. But I brushed them aside and I’m glad I did. My grandmother is no more, but she has left behind a task for me to complete. If I hadn’t read these papers, I would never have known why it was so important that they reach her friend.”

“If you’re so sure…”

“Oh yes, I’m positive this is the only way. And that you’re the only one who can do this for me. I would never have allowed a stranger to read those letters. It’s you I trust.”

“Thank you,” Sonia replied simply. “I’ll go through them tonight and let you know what will be my course of action.”

“Great!”

Sonia spread the letters, each written on a different letter pad, almost all of them fancy. There were five letters, all beautifully written, in different shades of blue ink. They spanned a period of almost twenty years, and despite herself, Sonia experienced a tingling of anticipation.

The night was cold and she wrapped herself in a warm woollen blanket and picked up the first letter.

1968, Pune

Dear Asit,

I had to write you this letter, specially after what happened last night. I have been a fool!

I know that I admitted it to you! Admitted that I loved you. Against all my resolve and good sense! How could I? Love is not for the likes of me. And specially not for us. lam writing this to you because I know that I shall never have the courage to say it to your face. This is wrong. Nothing can come out of this. I have two children and they have only me. I know that you’ll say you’ll help me raise them. But you are little more than a kid yourself. There, I said it! I spoke about the huge age difference between us—twenty years! God, you are young enough to be my son! I feel awful ever encouraging you! I can hear you say age makes no difference in love, but it does. And even though my kids love you, society would never accept a relationship like ours. I have faced too much in life and behaved very rashly—rebelled against a stifling lifestyle, eloped, and went against every tradition set down by my “great family”! But I can’t do this. For a while, swept away in fairy-tale love, I really thought that I could. But I forgot one important thing. I am a mother now. I can’t do anything that would put my children to shame.

That is why I must ask you to leave. I know this is awful and that you have been wonderful to me. You’ve been a good paying guest and I shall have to begin hunting for another tenant. But this can go no further.

Please go away and never come back, if you really and truly do love me!

Tara.

Sonia paused, replacing the letter on the table. Such strong emotions, riddled with guilt. But the letter had never been posted. Why? Did Tara’s courage ultimately fail her? Did her love for this man prove stronger than the laws of attraction laid out by Indian society in the sixties and seventies?

She picked up another letter and settled against the pillow.

1970, Pune

Dear Asit,

I’m so proud of you! You finally did it! You’re an Engineer! Despite all the upheavals in your life (and mine), you passed your examinations with flying colours. Yes, I’ve been keeping tabs on you, though you never knew it. I mean, not only on a professional front—I am your professor after all— but on a personal front, too. I know you’re out of my life and I know that I managed to convince you to move out. But I can’t help remembering the lovely warm times we all spent in my house for two years.

My new tenant is a nice girl. She would’ve made you a good friend—certainly better than that fancy doll you’re dating now. But then, it’s none of my business, is it? I wish it was, but it isn’t…

All the best for you. I hope you do well, in whatever you do. Whether we ever meet again or not. Amrita and Venky send hugs and kisses.

All my love,

Tara.

The next letter was dated several years later. Sonia poured herself a glass of water and drank it before she read the letter.

Pune, 1980

DearAsit,

Look at the way the years have flown since you returned into my life after your graduation. We started off like old friends and I thought that’s all it would remain. But it didn’t, did it? You proposed to me—a proposal filled with love and sincerity! But I think you’re crazy! I am fifty-five!

Why did you return? Why did you take up a job in Pune? Why do we have to go through this all over again ? Why did I allow you to step back into my life? Now it will be harder to let you go! I know that you’re no longer my student nor my tenant and that you don’t care a damn what society thinks, but I do! For the sake of my children. Please help me to be strong. I love you so much, but I love my children, tool They are adults now and understand a lot of things. They are good souls and would never grudge me happiness, but I don’t wish to put them through the acid test. They are just beginning to enjoy their life, college, friends, and I don’t want to embarrass them. So help me! Go away—go back to your home in Mumbai, pursue your career, do well, marry a nice beautiful girl and settle down. God knows, it’s already too late! But you have to try!

I shall live the rest of my life with our wonderful memories.

God bless you,

Tara.

A feeling of sadness swept over Sonia. So much agonising over what is right and wrong, what is approved and not. This letter revealed the internal strife of a woman at war with her own feelings and with the trappings of societal behaviour. So much love had burned within her. A love that could have resuscitated and flourished, had the answering call of love been accepted. With a sigh, Sonia picked up another letter. The ink was darker blue and the paper fresher than the others.

Pune, 1990

Dear Asit,

You will be surprised to receive this letter. It’s been ages, hasn’t it? Almost a decade since we last spoke or communicated! I hope you’re doing fine. Are you married ? Do you have kids? Are you just as handsome as ever? Are you doing well in your career? How’s the photography going?

So much time has passed. The memories seem to be fading too fast to hold on to. But I haven’t forgotten anything at all. I do remember you every dawn on 15th August—your birthday. Born on Independence Day—what a great year to be born in and what a great person you are. But I have missed you so much and sometimes the pain of missing was so strong, it left: me aching for you!

I still remember those parties thrown by your friend and the way we danced all night. I remember every detail of those precious moments of the years spent with you, and I thank God for them. As I sit at my window, watching the world race by, my kids all grown and gone on their own paths, doing so well that they have no time to look back, and my grandchildren flourishing—well, I think of you, I think of me—old and haggard, and I wonder if it was worth it. Giving it all up. Our love. Should I have listened to you ? Wouldn’t it have been better now? I would have still had you, to talk to, to share my thoughts with, my emotions and pain. A shoulder to lean on, to feel less lonely. I don’t even know where to post this letter to you. I’d like to meet you and have a tete a tete with you—-for old times‘ sake.

I wonder if I can without allowing my feelings for you to scare you!

All my love,

Tara.

Sonia’s eyes were moist as she picked up the last letter. It was past midnight, but she felt wide awake. Poor Tara. Lonely, filled with regrets and doubt.

Pune, 2002

DearAsit,

This may be my last letter to you. I don’t feel too well. I’m seventy-seven, but feel as if I’m a hundred. I still don’t have your address, and perhaps now it’s too late. I can barely hold a pen in my hand. Arthritis is very painful. I wonder what you would think of me today! A lonely old woman, I guess…

But I will complete this letter. I don’t know what you feel towards me anymore, but I will say this. I always loved you, despite the differences. Though I shall cherish every memory till my last moment, I can’t help wishing that it had been very different for us…

I have a great family. My grandchildren are wonderful. They deserve the best. And I would like to return to them what I took from my family years ago: my love! Please help me. I trust you implicitly.

You will always remain in my heart,

Only yours,

Tara.

Sonia brushed away her tears, feeling tremendously disturbed. She gathered the letters and replaced them in the carved wooden box. An all-consuming love, one Tara had given up for her family. Time had run out and the sacrifice had lost its glory. Her own memories were precious to her, but soon they, too, would be dust bunnies, swept away for good. With a deep sadness in her heart, Sonia switched off the light and settled against her pillow for a restive night.

“You were right! We have to hand these letters over to the rightful owner,” Sonia told Devika.

Her friend looked relieved. “So you read them?”

The detective nodded. “Such soulful letters! So poignant. Why do women make so many sacrifices for their children?”

“Indian women are raised with the power of the sacrifice in their hearts.”

“True. It is rooted deep into their psyche,” Sonia agreed. “But your grandmother was a very strong woman. I can’t imagine giving up such a powerful attraction and genuine love! Motherhood must be a great force.”

“What do you plan to do now?”

“First I shall chart out Asit’s horoscope. There is enough information in the letters for me to chart one.”

“Oh good!”

“Do you know which engineering college your grandmother taught at?”

“Pune’s College of Engineering.”

“Since we don’t have a second name for this Asit, we shall have to dig into the college records and find out how many Asits studied there during those years and who graduated in that particular year. And after that will begin our Herculean task!”

“But you think you can do it, right?” Devika asked anxiously.

“I’m going to give it my best shot,” Sonia assured her. “Nothing would make me happier than seeing those wonderful letters reach the hands of the right person.”

“Thank you, you have no idea what this means to me!” Impulsively, the other girl clasped Sonia’s hands.

“I know that if my grandmother—who is the naughtiest old woman I have ever met—were ever to have fallen in love again, I would’ve moved heaven and earth to see her united with her new love. I think love is the most positive emotion and it must always be applauded and rewarded. However much it may seem ridiculous or misfit to others.”

Devika nodded. Appreciation glowed in her eyes.

“And even though we cannot unite these two people now, we can at least unite their memories!” Sonia completed, with grim determination.

Devika stared at her. “You really understand being in love, don’t you? What it involves, what it means? Does that come from experience?”

“More a natural instinct, I would say!”

“A very diplomatic answer!” Devika laughed. “Sonia, you’ve been a wonderful friend to me this past year and I would really like to thank you for it. I really appreciate whatever you’ve done for me! Thank you!”

“Hey, don’t you think it’s a little too soon for thank yous?” Sonia asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“Right again! Well, see you later. Do let me know how you progress, okay?”

Sonia was still smiling long after Devika had left the room. She liked the woman. Warm-hearted and sincere. And Devika had been sporting about Nidhi, though the cat had almost ruined some of her designer clothes, and she always managed to drop by each morning for a brief chat. Sonia was glad that it was Devika who had rented the office and not some grouchy cat-hater.

She rang the buzzer of the intercom.

“Yes, Boss?”

“Ready for some work, Jatin?”

“Anytime!”

With a feeling of triumph Sonia stared down at the horoscope in her hand. Dawn, fifteenth August, 1947. Asit was in his fifties now. Here was the horoscope of the man who had touched Tara’s heart like no one else had. Despite being twenty-two years younger than her, he had loved her and appreciated her, pursued her till she had driven him away. Sonia felt a thrill of excitement. What a gift to be loved like that, eclipsing all logic, rules, and relationships. What a strong woman Tara must have been to have shoved aside the most rewarding emotion of her life for the sake of her children. It was no wonder that she had regrets towards the end. Poor Tara.

Sonia’s eyes swept over the natal chart of the mysterious Asit. Libra as the zodiac sign and Leo in the ascendant. Good-looking and attractive. Tall, dynamic, and intelligent. Determined, a person who knew his mind well. Stubborn and authoritative. Jupiter and the Sun in the tenth house with Taurus indicated a decent and basically nice human being. Venus, Mars, and Mercury in the ninth house in Aries revealed that he would be talented. Mars in the ninth house signified very strongly that he would fall for a woman older than him. Sonia stared in fascination at the constellation, her attention thoroughly caught. How precise could a horoscope get! Mars in conjunction with Venus in the Moon’s seventh house and the Moon in conjunction with Harshal and Venus and Harshal in opposition—all the planets suggested a dramatic, even eccentric and unusual tale of love. Venus in the seventh house from the Moon, clearly disclosed that the love of his life would be a beautiful woman. Which Tara undeniably was! But Saturn aspected Venus and Mars, rewarding Asit with a lifelong tension as far as the affair was concerned. Also Saturn in the twelfth house in a weak sign Cancer was the Lord of the seventh house, proving that marital peace and happiness were not in Asit’s destiny.

But despite everything, did he continue to love Tara? Sonia wondered. Suddenly she realised that this was no more just a question of hunting down Asit and handing him Tara’s letters. It had become a personal crusade now. She needed to discover what he felt for Tara. Where had his passion for an older woman landed him? Was he happy doing what he was? Satisfied with the way his life had turned out? And most important, was he still in love with Tara? Or had he moved on, proving that love was an overrated emotion and that like everything else in this world, it changed? Sonia had to find out. If years could alter love.

She was surprised at the intense interest she felt in this case. An inner voice seemed to be goading her to find the answers to some of life’s most important questions. Did real love exist?

The door swung open and Jatin strode in. Sonia glanced at his face and knew from his smug smile that he had news.

“Successful?” she asked.

“Hundred percent!” He beamed. “Name: Asit Rao. Year of Passing: 1970. Resident of Mumbai, born on 15th August 1947. Graduated with distinction as a Mechanical Engineer. Later returned as a Chief Guest to the college. The present principal happened to be his classmate and was most forthcoming with information. Though he had no idea where Asit is at the moment, the principal knew that Asit had stayed as a paying guest with their professor Tara Karnik. That he was a brilliant student and a ranker. Also very good-looking. He had all the girls swooning over him.”

“Fantastic work, Jatin! We have a good base to work from now. With a horoscope and the information you dug up, finding Asit Rao should not be too much of a trouble!”

“Does that mean I can leave you to it?” her assistant asked, a little self-importantly.

“Of course you can!”

“Good, because I have a lot of work to do. I have to prepare for my ghost watch tonight. Bring my hockey stick, keep a thermos of chai ready, a blanket. Then there’s the Christmas tree to decorate and gifts to buy—we are going to celebrate Christmas this year at the office, aren’t we?”

“Of course we are!”

“Great. I’m off home to do the needful. You needn’t lock up, I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Right!” Sonia swallowed the word Boss, which sprang humorously to her lips. She realised that she decidedly preferred a pompous, bumbling Jatin to a sad, depressed one!

“What a wasted night!” Jatin yawned. “I’m off to bed, Boss! Hope you’ll manage the office till I return this afternoon. I really need to catch some sleep.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be working on the computer anyway.” Sonia turned back to the computer.

“And don’t feed Nidhi, She’s had a gala time keeping me awake. Demanding constant attention and food! I think I’ve overfed her!”

Nidhi was curled up in a tight ball, scarcely looking up as Jatin spoke.

“We’re both tired! Not a soul disturbed us! What a shame!” he grumbled.

“Don’t lose hope. Maybe tomorrow night you’ll have luck,” Sonia consoled.

“Or maybe tonight we’ll have luck!” Mohnish interrupted, sauntering inside with a wide grin.

“That is more likely!” Jatin grinned cheekily and, before his Boss could comment, hastily quit the office.

Sonia turned to Mohnish with a stern eye. He looked fresh and handsome in a lemon-yellow shirt. “You’ll give him ideas with these innuendos of yours!”

“Good, because that’s exactly what I plan to do!”

“Why?” She frowned.

“Need I answer that? You’re a special person, Sonia Samarth. I care a lot about you.” Mohnish shrugged.

“But there’s nothing between us!” Sonia switched on the computer.

“Are you sure there’s nothing between us?” he asked deliberately, leaning towards her. His quiet tone stilled her fingers and she glanced up swiftly.

His deep brown gaze was trained on her, with an intensity which seemed to cut through her indifference.

“I…you’re my good friend.” Her mouth was suddenly dry.

“Sure, but a delicate, flimsy boundary protects friendship from crossing over to love. Are you positive that that fragile boundary hasn’t played an illusionary trick on us, in keeping those emotions in check? That we haven’t already unconsciously crossed the boundary?”

“Good morning, everybody!” Devika breezed in, greeting them cheerily.

Sonia blushed and bent hastily over the computer to dust off an invisible speck. The other woman paused awkwardly.

“Am I interrupting anything?” she asked cautiously.

“Actually, yes—” Mohnish began as Sonia remarked simultaneously, “Of course not!”

Devika glanced from one to the other. “Make up your mind. Yes or no?”

“No!” Sonia exclaimed. “Come along and I’ll brief you on the developments!”

Mohnish watched, amused, as the detective updated Devika. Sonia certainly looked especially pretty when she blushed. Dressed in a cotton red-and-black Salwar Kameez, with the red shawl thrown casually over her shoulders, her silky hair swinging, and her expressive eyes on Devika, Mohnish was aware of the extreme attraction he felt for her. But she was so frustratingly guarded, thwarting his advances at every step. All her defences sprang up at the slightest hint of something intimate! He had to do something to loosen her guard. He had to make her see that there was something worth exploring between the two of them, if only she would give them a chance!

“I’ve been on the computer for hours, looking up options, but unfortunately I’ve had no success,” Sonia said in a low voice.

Outside, the night was dark, silent, and very cold. It was past midnight and the world seemed to be fast asleep. A thick mist hovered in the garden of the Stellar Investigations Office. Inside the office, Nidhi sat curled on a pillow on the window sill. Occasionally, she opened a sleepy eye and made certain that the low drone of voices continued. Sonia and Mohnish sat on the Panchgani rug, wrapped in warm woollen blankets. The night was pitch black and if it hadn’t been for the small night lamp that Sonia had insisted on leaving on, sight would’ve been impossible. They had a good view of the window, but someone peeping from the outside would see nothing inside.

They had eaten dinner and returned to the office around eleven and settled down to keep watch. After an initial awkwardness, Sonia tuned herself to Mohnish’s professional approach to the task. Now, as she poured some chai into cups and handed one to him, she found herself smiling in the dark. It was a good thing her parents were unorthodox enough to allow this night out. Which was mostly because they trusted and liked Mohnish, of course. Perhaps it was time she trusted him explicitly as well.

His mobile trilled and Mohnish dug hastily into his pocket. One look at the number and he cut it off.

“Who was it?” Sonia whispered.

“Nobody important.”

But the phone again rang insistently. Mohnish glanced at the number and this time he switched off his mobile.

“Obviously somebody really wants to contact you at this late hour. Why don’t you answer the call once and for all!”.

“Because I don’t wish to!”

“Why not?” Sonia pressed, surprised at his brusque tone.

“I told you, it’s nothing important. Anyway, I ought to have switched off the mobile long ago. Can’t have it making so much noise when we are supposed to be on guard!”

Sonia accepted his explanation dubiously. Who wished to contact Mohnish in the middle of the night and why didn’t he wish to take the call? And why did he sound so annoyed? Once more, she realised that Mohnish had a side to him that she was not a part of. That probably she would never be a part of. And until she knew what lay in that part of his life, she would always find him a little unpredictable and unreachable.

“You were telling me about your search for Ask,” Mohnish prompted, tucking the cell back into his pocket.

“Only that I found a whole lot of Asit Raos on the Internet. I’ve tracked down some, but so far no success. None of them seems to be the Asit Rao I’m looking for. I shall contact more Asit Raos tomorrow and hope that at least one of them responds positively. If not, I shall start again, with new search engines and new words. This man could be anywhere in the world! If I can find some more of his attributes as keywords, at least one, and if he is on the Net, I shall definitely find him!”

“Why do I get the impression that once again you are getting more involved in this than necessary?” Mohnish took a sip of tea and turned in his seat to search her face in the dim light.

“Because this time it is necessary. I’ve always been curious about love and how long it really lasts. And this is a case in time. An older woman and a younger man.

So madly in love but trapped in the wrong time, at the wrong age, and in a terribly complex situation. None of it was their fault or of their making. What I’d like to know is what really happened to their love. It is obvious that she never forgot him and loved him with all her heart. But what about him? Did his love survive, pitted against distance, time, age, and society standards? That is what I would really love to know!“ Sonia remarked.

“You mean, you think that this guy moved on, forgot their great love, and just enjoyed his life?” Mohnish asked dryly.

“Something like that. He is a man after all!”

“I don’t believe this! You are biased! Don’t you believe that men can profess undying love and mean it?”

“Of course they do. I mean, most men probably do. But does that declaration really and truly last through life!”

Mohnish scrutinised her face, then suddenly leaned forward. “So if I told you that I love you, you wouldn’t really believe me, would you?”

Sonia blushed, glad of the cover of the darkness. “No. I wouldn’t believe you!”

“Why not? Is it my horoscope?”

“Your horoscope?” For a moment she was surprised, then she answered truthfully. “Partly.”

“What do I have to do to make you believe me?”

The husky note of his voice had sent her pulse racing. The earnestness in his voice, his steady intense gaze seemed to hold her eyes even in the dark. He took the cup from her hand and placed it aside. Then he clasped her hands in his.

“Sonia, you know I’m not kidding. I’ve waited too long to say this, but you’ve been jittery every time I broached the subject. I—”

Suddenly the room was plunged into darkness and Mohnish cursed under his breath. What perfect timing!

“Electricity failure! I’ll find the emergency lamp!” Sonia sounded breathless. She wasn’t sure whether she was relieved with the interruption or not.

She rose, completely blinded by the darkness. Mohnish stood up at the same time and their heads bumped.

“Ouch! What are you doing?”

“I told you I can’t stand the dark!” he whispered.

“Then sit still, please, I’m trying to find the lamp!” she hissed.

Her hands groped in the dark and came up against a woollen sweater. She shrank back instantly.

“Don’t worry, it’s only me!” Mohnish reported.

All the more reason to worry, Sonia thought.

She turned quickly. This electricity! Why wasn’t there some semblance of order and discipline in power cuts? And where was the emergency lamp? She had specifically kept it on the table, so as to reach it in the dark!

She stepped aside, banged her foot against a chair, and stumbled. Instantly, strong arms enveloped her. For a minute, she froze, transfixed and dazed with his proximity, the pleasant odour of Mohnish’s body, hearing his heart beat even faster than hers. The atmosphere was charged and heady. A great warmth suffused through her and she experienced a sudden craving for the moment to extend into eternity!

Nidhi meowed, staring at the window. The fur on her back began to rise.

Sonia stepped back hastily, blushing furiously in embarrassment as the cat’s meows registered through the thick mist of attraction.

“Take it easy, okay?” Mohnish murmured. “There’s no desperate need to find a light.”

“But I thought you hated the dark.”

“Yes, but you are the one who’s all panicky,” he pointed out in a low, amused voice. “Just stand still. I’ll find the lamp. My eyes are quite accustomed to the dark now. And I know where it is. I moved it to the window seat, near Nidhi, before we settled down.”

“Now you tell me!” Sonia snapped.

Suddenly Nidhi’s loud angry hissing filled the room. The little cat was standing on two paws, clawing the pane. A figure in white hovered outside the grilled window.

“Shh…” Mohnish whispered urgently. “The ghost!”

Sonia darted to the window and grabbed the lamp. But just as she did so, a loud howl of pain pierced the night. Mohnish yanked the office door open and they raced out into the darkness. Just in time to glimpse the ghost stumbling over tree roots and fleeing into the dark. A white bedsheet trailed behind him and his waistlong dreadlocks hung like rags flapping in the wind. As the figure dissolved into the mist, Mohnish broke into a run, plunging into the darkness, chasing the ghost down the lane.

Sonia stared in amazement as another figure appeared out of the shadows. She switched on the emergency lamp. Jatin! And he had a hockey stick in hand!

“What are you doing here?” she asked incredulously.

“Keeping watch, of course! I couldn’t trust the two of you together, so I decided to extend my duties and add my experienced vigil to the watch tonight. And am I glad I did! I’ve given that ghost such a whack with my hockey stick, he’s not going to turn up again in a long time!” Jatin reported triumphantly.

Sonia stared in disbelief at her assistant. “Don’t you think trying to catch him would’ve been a more profitable option for us? Instead of just driving him away?”

“Well, actually I didn’t really think of that. I was longing to get my hands on that troublesome ghost and I certainly got the satisfaction. Anyway, the goal has been achieved. He won’t turn up again. Ultimately that’s what we wanted, didn’t we?”

Sonia sighed. “Yes, I guess, though finding out why he was haunting our premises would have been a bonus, right?”

“Oh…”

Mohnish returned, a little breathless. “Got away! What’s that?” He stooped and picked up something from the grass at his feet. “Another note?”

Immediately Sonia shone the light on the slip of paper. The printed words stood out clearly on the crumpled sheet.

“You did not heed my warning. Now your cat will die!”

“Nidhi!” Sonia exclaimed and wheeled towards the office.

She rushed inside, her heart pounding with terror. The others followed close on her heels.

“Nidhi!” Sonia called again, desperately, and for a breathtaking moment heard only silence. Then a complaining meow answered loudly and firmly, and relief swept over Sonia. Nidhi was sitting by the window, awaiting Sonia’s return.

The detective swooped the cat up in her arms, cradling her like a child.

“My little darling!” she cooed. Turning to the others, she announced, “She’s here and safe!”

“Thanks to my whack!” Jatin reminded.

The night lamp flickered, announcing the return of the electricity, and Jatin switched on the tube, flooding the office with light.

“I guess it’s time to go home,” Mohnish said, tugging on his jacket. “That ghost won’t return in a hurry, now that he knows we’ve made the connection between his notes and him!”

“And because of my whack!”

Sonia and Mohnish flashed each other amused looks. “And because of your thoughtfulness,” she acceded, and her assistant finally looked appeased and pleased.

Sonia settled Nidhi on her pillow and stroked her till she curled up again.

“Okay everybody, pack-up time!”

Sonia studied the horoscope intently. She could very nearly visualise Ask—tall, silent, and romantic. She grimaced. Her head was groggy and filled with romantic nonsense, she realised, thanks to Mohnish! She had barely slept last night and the few winks she had managed had been interspersed with images of a make-believe Asit and a very real Mohnish. She had awakened disoriented and finding difficulty in sifting imagination from reality. She couldn’t help thinking back to last night. He had been different. More like the Mohnish she had met for the first time. Confident, almost arrogant with some hidden, inner knowledge. Mysterious, too, about the phone call. If the power failure hadn’t happened when it did, what would he have said to her? And more important, how would she have reacted to him? Sonia sighed. She felt totally confused and ill equipped to handle anything beyond simple friendship. What had he said earlier. A delicate boundary protecting friendship. Had he overstepped his boundary of friendship? And had she also unknowingly trespassed over that line?

Sonia shook her head in frustration. She didn’t at all fancy her line of thinking. No doubt this case was giving her ideas and forcing amorous thoughts into her mind. She was an investigator and she had no time for relationships—at least, not yet. Besides, she wasn’t completely free of a certain man with blue-green eyes, who was invisible physically, but omnipresent like a road speed-breaker in her emotional path. There was only one thing to do, if she had to retain her wits and behave like a rational and practical human being—she had to forget the whole notion of romance!

With fresh resolve, she buzzed the intercom.

“Yes, Boss!”

“Jatin, I need music.”

“Right away, Boss!”

It was only when Jatin had slipped a hard-rock CD into the player and had speedily escaped from the room that Sonia recovered some semblance of peace. The loud guitar music raked into her brain noisily. She focused completely on the horoscope, her foot tapping with the rhythm. Suddenly, her eyes were drawn to a constellation. The Lord of the fourth house Mars was in the ninth house in his own sign Aries! Which meant that ultimately Asit would settle in a city and in his birth place and prosper there. Where was he born, she tried to recall. Mumbai! That was it! Mumbai was where he ought to have settled! Something else attracted her attention. Venus and Mars in the ninth house indicated a very fruitful career in arts and media. There was a great possibility of him changing his career along the way. A powerful Mars, and Venus and Harshal in opposition further hinted at a very technologically advanced artistic profession. Sonia raised her head and closed her eyes. A bell seemed to ring at the back of her mind. What career could Asit choose? Opening her eyes, she quickly rummaged through her drawer and extracted the wooden box, withdrawing the letters. One by one she scanned them again, and suddenly she paused, excited. One single reference leaped up at her. Photography! This had to be it! After all, his horoscope indicated that he was talented and could pursue a career in it. Perhaps that was why she had not succeeded in finding an Engineer Asit. Feeling excited, she realised that finally she had struck gold— found a clue to his whereabouts. Mumbai and photography, the two important key words!

Sonia thrust the letters back into the box along with the horoscope and hastened into the outer office. Jatin was wrapping a gift he had bought. But the moment he saw his Boss’s face, he paused.

“Found something?” he asked.

“I believe so. But I’ll know for sure in a minute. Jatin, you can do something in the meanwhile. Find out from the Mumbai phone directory if they have an Asit Rao listed.”

Jatin rose with alacrity and set to work, while Sonia settled once more at the computer. Within minutes she was Googling the words Asit and photography, and within seconds several sites scrolled on the screen. She ran an eye over them. The last name was a website called Sitara.com. Sonia stared at it. A photographer’s site. Sitara. Could it be? Sitara—a combination of Asit and Tara—her heart began a tattoo of anticipation, as she clicked on the site. Images unfolded—portraits and photos of men, women, and children in varied landscapes, seasons, and situations, touched up electronically, some with special effects. And then she saw a particular photo. She clicked on it to enlarge it. It was a black-and-white image of a beautiful woman dancing at a party. Her face was turned to the camera and she was smiling. And instinctively Sonia knew. This was Tara!

The Mumbai seascape stretched into eternity. Standing near the monumental Gateway of India and staring up at its huge arches, with the sea breeze caressing her face, Sonia experienced a great wave of appreciation. The Gateway of India, with its four turrets and latticework carved in yellow basalt stone, was completed in 1924, built to commemorate the visit of Britain’s King George and Queen Mary. When the British rule ended, the last British ship had sailed from the Gateway. Steps led down it to awaiting boats which would either take tourists on a ride of the harbour or to the famous Elephanta caves ten kilometres away.

Evening fell, casting a golden glow over the lapping sea and the majestic monument. Pigeons fluttered, pecking at grains thrown by tourists. Opposite the Gateway rose the grand Taj Hotel, which afforded a splendid view of the Mumbai harbour. Hawkers sat along the pavement, selling gift articles and picture postcards. Sonia almost felt like a tourist. It was rarely that she came down to the southern part of Mumbai, the prettiest part of the city, with its Nariman Drive fondly known as the Queen’s Necklace, royal Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, and the magnificent Gateway of India. It was also the perfect spot for her to meet with Asit.

She had researched his phone number and had called him up. To her great delight, he had agreed to meet her here. Sonia hadn’t said a word to Devika, wanting to ensure his credibility before she broke the news to her. She had driven down to Mumbai in the morning, visited her grandmother in Bandra, and then arrived at the Gateway, all set to interact with the man who had provoked so much passion in the lovely Tara and so much curiosity within her.

Artificial lights sprang up to illuminate the monument, and the sea lapped in folds of red and yellow. Sonia spotted a man, dressed in jeans and a loose black denim shirt, approaching her hesitantly. Asit, without doubt. Tall, dusky, and still handsome, despite the abundant grey in his thick hair. She straightened and raised an arm in recognition and he smiled.

“Sonia Samarth?” he asked in a deep voice.

“Asit Rao!”‘ Sonia extended her hand. “I’m so glad to meet you!”

“And I’m glad to meet you! Did you say that you have something for me from Tara?” he asked without preamble.

“Why don’t we sit down?” She indicated a stone slab and he readily nodded.

“How do you know Tara? Are you related to her?” Asit seemed impatient to get down to details.

“Actually, no, but I’ve been hired to find you.”

Strangely, she had the uncanny impression that she had known this man all her life. Tara’s letters—so explicit, and expressive—were no doubt responsible for this familiarity. After reading them, Asit seemed more like a lost friend to her than a complete stranger.

“Find me?” He sounded genuinely surprised. “How is she, by the way? Doing well?”

Sonia looked at his eager face and realised, with a tug of her heart, that he didn’t know!

She took a deep breath, hating to be the one to break it to him. “Tara passed away last year.”

He sucked in his breath sharply and instant horror replaced his complacent expression.

“I’m sorry if it came as a shock,” Sonia murmured.

He stared at her unseeingly, then his gaze shifted to the sea. A look of yearning and wretchedness crossed his face.

“I should have known. I’ve been feeling this hollow pit inside of me for months. I should’ve guessed that she was no more in this world!” Sudden tears began pouring down his cheeks and he brushed them away fiercely. “It’s over. The tale of lost love! She won!”

Sonia caught her breath at this display of raw emotions, wanting to comfort him but knowing it was pointless. Instead, she turned her face away towards the sea, allowing him his private moment of grief. Finally he extracted a kerchief from his pocket and dabbed his face.

“Did you say she left something for me?” His voice quivered.

She nodded. “Letters.”

“Letters? She never wrote me!”

“Letters which she never posted. I don’t have them with me at the moment. I simply came to confirm your identity. Her granddaughter will hand them to you.”

“Letters from Tara… How I’ve longed for one from her. From that first moment I saw her, at her house, I knew that I had found my soul-mate. Age didn’t matter, there was only one woman I would ever love in my life. It was Tara. And it was the same for her. Time and again she would ask me to leave, but I managed to convince her that there was a future for us. Specially after my graduation and as I pursued a career in engineering, I tried to make her see reason. And she accepted for a while. But though she knew it deep in her heart that we were meant to be together, she wouldn’t accept my marriage proposal. She was petrified that she had let it go that far, held herself responsible for encouraging me. She couldn’t see that I was beyond encouragement. I loved her far too much and her only offence was not to let me into her life, as I wished. But her priority was her children and the dread of others’ comments. I told her I didn’t care, but she was determined. After the proposal, she asked me to leave. She made me promise never to contact her again. I tried once or twice, but each time she got so agitated that I finally decided to leave her alone. She promised me that when she needed me, she would get in touch with me. I’ve been waiting all these years, in the dear hope that she would see sense and that we could be together again. And now it’s too late.” His voice shook with an emotion he had no power to control.

“She wrote about five letters to you. There may have been more, but we never found them. She wrote to you immediately after your graduation and whenever she wanted you to leave but didn’t have the courage to tell you so to your face.”

“Courage? Tara had plenty of courage. She managed to reject me several times. Perhaps she succeeded, that’s why she never sent me those letters!”

“And later, she really did wish to send you the letters but she didn’t have your address. That’s why we’ve been trying to locate you.”

“She wanted to meet me?” Tears sprang up in his eyes again. “I wish I hadn’t listened to her! I should have just stormed into her house, brushed aside her protests, and swept her away! I wish I hadn’t wasted our lives and our love!” Asit covered his face with his hands as regret ravaged his soul.

Sonia watch helplessly, empathizing with his powerful distress and heartache. Love was a supreme emotion, an essence of life, a vital flame, a throbbing energy, an elixir. But the hold of love over the heart, body, and mind was terrifying!

Suddenly he looked up. “Can you come with me?”

Without awaiting a response, he rose and began striding towards a car. Sonia hastened after him, feeling as if she was caught in a tidal wave. She slid into the passenger seat of the car and he edged it out of the parking and onto Nariman Drive—a street which swept all along the sea like a necklace. Night had fallen and the illuminated street lamps curved with the road like jewels.

Within minutes, Asit turned into another parking lot, leading her into an elevator up to the tenth floor. Fishing into his pocket, he took out a key and inserted it into the lock, swinging the door open.

“My home and studio!” he announced brusquely.

He flicked the button and a row of lights in the false ceiling bathed the long hall with brilliant lights. Sonia gasped. Directly opposite her, a window covered a whole wall, overlooking the Arabian Sea and the twinkling lights of Mumbai.

“Wow! What a view!” she remarked spontaneously.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? But certainly no more beautiful than this!” He walked forward, switching on lights as he did so. Sonia stared. Life-size, black-and-white photographs of a beautiful woman covered the wall. Tara. As Sonia moved from photo to photo, admiring the beauty of the woman captured by an expert cameraman’s lens, her eyes grew misty. Then she turned to face Asit. He was staring at a close-up of Tara, who seemed to be smiling straight at him.

“You still love her, don’t you?” she asked, almost in a whisper.

“I will always love her, till my heart stops feeling and beating.”

“You never married?”

“I was married to Tara in thought and soul. There was no place for any other woman but her. If only she had seen it. If only…” He choked, stumbling into a chair.

Sonia felt her heart fill with sadness. For equations gone wrong, for exhausted love, for time which pounds on regardless of life or death. For witnessing the debacle of a great sacrifice…

Devika hugged Sonia warmly, enveloping her in the folds of her designer, mango-yellow Salwar Kameez. “Thank you so much, Sonia, you have no idea what this means to me!”

“I believe I do.” Sonia smiled. “And you don’t need to thank me. I’ve learnt a lot from this whole experience, to say the least. Now you better hurry and contact Asit. He is eagerly awaiting your call.”

“I will! Thank you again, Sonia. I shall be leaving for Mumbai immediately, so you and I may not meet on Christmas. I hope you have a wonderful holiday! And a very great New Year!”

“Same to you!”

Sonia felt deep contentment as Devika left. She relaxed in her chair, closing her eyes to appreciate the inner peace. It had been a while since she experienced this sense of accomplishment. Feelings of incompletion and of not having done her best were usually tagged to the end of an investigation. As if justice was a result of the intricate weaving of cross-purposes, adversity, and tribulations. But this time it was different. She revelled in the novel feeling of total achievement.

Now she could concentrate on Christmas, which was the day after. She had yet to buy gifts and suddenly she sat upright. She hadn’t bought a single gift! Panicked, she rose hastily, patted Nidhi, and sailed out of the room.

“Jatin, I’m off to do some shopping. You can take the rest of the day off, too!” she declared. “We deserve a holiday and a celebration. It has been a good year for Stellar Investigations, don’t you think?”

“You could say that. But not so wonderful personally,” Jatin remarked, a little glumly.

“Oh, come off it! You are better off without a criminal in your life! However beautiful and charming she may be!”

“I hope that applies to you, too,” Jatin responded cheekily.

Startled, Sonia frowned at him. “And what does that mean?”

Jatin shrugged. “Your obsession with The Owl. Not very healthy, is it?”

“My obsession with—! What in heavens gave you that idea?”

“His Christmas and New Year card lying on the table!” Jatin grinned.

“What!” Sonia almost snatched the card from the table top. Inadvertently, her excitement spiralled. Aware that her assistant’s watchful eyes were observing her minutely, she flipped open the envelope and extracted the card. It depicted a gorgeous winter landscape in the early hours of the morning, with just the hint of the sun behind the hills. Inside, a calligraphic scrawl read:

My Dear Sonia,

Whatever you may say,

The dawn is not far away…

How much ever you may decline,

One day, you will be mine!

All the best, my Glowworm,

for a love-filled X’mas and New Year!

Your Admirer.

Sonia blushed a deep red as she read the lines, her body tingling with thrill. Simultaneously a quick anger surfaced in her. How dare he make such declarations! And send them written in a card for all to read! He had some cheek!

“Boss? See what I mean?” Jatin tilted his head.

“He’s got no business sending me useless cards. If he had any guts, he would cross my path with a problem and this time I would set the score straight!”

“You never know, The Owl seems gutsy enough to land up at our office door, insolently demanding your help!”

“I’m waiting for that day!” Sonia remarked vehemently. Tossing the card on the table, she stormed out of the office.

She spent the morning before Christmas shopping, enjoying every minute of strolling up and down the decorated streets. She moved from shop to shop, contemplating what was perfect for her parents, for Jatin, Devika, and of course Nidhi. And for Mohnish. Despite the coolness, she felt hot and tired trudging along the picturesque Mahatma Gandhi street, the shops festooned with streamers and Christmas trees, and glowing with the bright colour of the season. When she finally returned to the office, she was laden with glossy parcels. Jatin was giving the last touches to the Christmas tree, putting silver baubles on its branches.

“Wow! That does look good!” Sonia exclaimed, dropping her packages on the table.

“Doesn’t it?” Jatin stood back to appreciate his work of art. “I particularly liked these shiny curler streamers.”

“How has Nidhi behaved? She loves to play with these baubles. I’m surprised that none are broken as yet.” Sonia slipped into a chair.

“Nidhi?” Jatin looked surprised. “Isn’t she sitting outside, bathing herself in the sun?”

“If she is, I didn’t see her. You continue your work, I’ll go find her,” Sonia suggested, rising from her seat immediately.

But half an hour later, she returned, extremely worried. “She’s nowhere in the garden. I’ve looked everywhere for her!”

“She may have gone hunting for mice,” Jatin replied casually. “Don’t worry. She never strays too far away.”

But Sonia was worried. She tried to work, writing her annual report for the year, but her ears were trained for the slightest sound of her cat. By the time it was evening, her concern had turned into a full-blown panic.

“Something’s wrong! Nidhi is never absent for longer than an hour!” Even as she said the words, the memory of the threatening note thrust itself into her mind. “Your cat will die!”

“You think the ghost may have… ?” Even Jatin began to look concerned. He had finished decorating the tree and was switching channels on his Television.

“I’m certain of that! There’s no other explanation, is there? God, why wasn’t I more careful? Why did I allow myself to take that horrible man so lightly? I thought that it was over! Why was I such a fool!”

“Boss, take it easy! You can’t blame yourself for this. Nidhi is a cat. You can’t keep an eye on her all the time!”

“No, but I wasn’t particularly careful either!” Sonia spoke irritably. “Oh, my poor Nidhi, where can she be? We’ve got to look for her!”

“Boss, if indeed the ghost has kidnapped Nidhi, he may leave another note for us. Because I think he’s trying to get across a message. I doubt if he intends to hurt the cat!” Jatin said, trying to think practically and logically.

Sonia stopped pacing. “You may be right. I shouldn’t let my panic jump out of control.” She took in a deep, steadying breath. “Nothing can happen to Nidhi. I have to believe that. That is not his intention. His intention is to get me to see a point—Stop using Astrology. Yes, there will be another note and we ought to wait for it. But only until tomorrow morning. Because if there’s no news of Nidhi by then, we are going to launch a massive search for her!”

It was when Sonia had locked up and had finally decided to retire for the night in frustration that she found the note. It was tucked under the windshield wiper of her van. Her heart did a somersault when she spotted it. She snatched it up immediately. The type was darker than the earlier notes, but the font was still the same. With shaking hands, she opened it and read the words: If you wish to see your cat, meet me tomorrow—alone—at six a.m. at the Pataleshwar Caves.

Pataleshwar Caves! The ancient caves in the heart of the city, on the Jangli Maharaj Road. Forty pillars, cut into a massive rock, supported the caves. Pataleshwar— the name synonymous with the Lord of the underworld—Sonia had been asked to meet Nidhi’s kidnapper there! How apt…

Fury burst inside her, as she made her decision. Very well, she would go and confront him. For the sake of Nidhi, her trusted friend and pet. And she would end this matter once and for all!

Orange streaked the sky as Sonia parked the car on Jangli Maharaj Road and ascended the sloping stone slabs to the entrance. A huge Banyan tree loomed on her right as a light veil of mist blew with the wind. At the end of the steps, she paused and stared down at the huge excavation—an enormous rock pit. In the centre of the square stood the round Nandi Mandap— pavilion or shrine—with its sixteen pillars and umbrella-shaped roof. Inside the pavilion was the Linga—the symbol of the Lord Shiva and a Nandi—a bull. And beyond the Mandap rose eight stone-block pillars which stood like sentries guarding the deep caves which housed the temples, the chief among them being the Shiva Temple.

The entire Pataleshwar caves—a monolithic structure of the eighth century Rashtrakoota age—were dusted with an unearthly grey fog. A fluorescent heavenly light glimmered through it. The breeze rustled in the dried leaves of the Banyan trees and for an immeasurable moment, Sonia felt transferred in time—to a time when nothing existed beyond the peace of meditation. But she felt too disturbed to really appreciate the picturesque beauty of the centuries-old art. She had cut a cake at midnight, celebrating Christmas with her parents, and had prayed with all her heart for Nidhi’s safety. And after a sleepless, anxiety-ridden night, here she was, ready to face the worst.

Her hand automatically probed the pocket of her jeans, where the small bulge of her pistol was hidden by her bulky sweater. That gave her some reassurance. Slowly, she descended the passage down to the caves. Her shoes squeaked on the uneven stone floor and mist clung to the rough stone walls.

Two men were sitting in separate caves, their eyes closed, both lost in meditation. Sonia threw a searching glance over them, then, convinced that neither of them was the ghost, she moved to the other side of the Mandap. The caves were shrouded in mist and shadows and for a moment she wondered whether she should venture inside each one of them. But a glance at her watch told her that it was just six. She would wait a couple of minutes before she stepped inside the mysterious caves. She sat down on a flat rock, rubbing her arms to drive away the cold and wondering why she didn’t frequent this beautiful historical place.

Suddenly the meowing of a cat broke the eerie silence. Nidhi! Sonia stood up instantly, her hand ready on her pocket. The sound seemed to grow louder, as if approaching from within the caves. Like a ghostly apparition, a figure in a black overcoat emerged out of the Shiva temple, screened by the mist. He was carrying a cage, in which Nidhi was protesting loudly. A shiver ran down Sonia’s spine.

“Merry Christmas, Sonia!” Varun Thakur greeted cheerfully.

Sonia’s hand froze on her pistol. “You? What are you doing here? And why do you have Nidhi?”

“One question at a time, please.” He smiled charmingly. “Sit down. We need to talk.”

In the dawning light, his eyes were a deep blue-green and his thick highlighted hair bounced gold. He looked fresh and handsome and could easily be mistaken for a film star.

Regarding him with the utmost suspicion, Sonia reluctantly perched on the flat rock. He settled Nidhi’s cage beside her. Sonia immediately put in her hand to comfort the cat.

He took the seat on the other side and turned to study her frankly. “You look great!” he remarked.

“Did you leave that note for me under the wiper?” she asked bluntly, ignoring his compliment and the involuntary ripple of pleasure at his words. She had to focus on what was happening.

“Yes!”

“And it was you who kidnapped Nidhi?”

“Yes again!”

“And here I was going crazy with anxiety thinking some madcap had indeed kidnapped Nidhi. Why did you do it?”

“Because it was the only way to meet with you. Not only did you refuse to answer my emails, but you responded with threats! How do you think I would react to that?”

“Certainly not by kidnapping my cat!”

“Uh-uh. By taking my cat for a short visit to her original home, you mean,” he corrected.

“Get this straight into your head, Varun Thakur— or Owl, whatever you may wish to be called—Nidhi is no longer your cat! Don’t you ever touch her again— or by God, you don’t know what I’ll do to you!” Sonia retorted fiercely.

Varun looked at her with admiration, not in the least affected by her fury. “That is what I’ve always liked about you, Sonia—your fieriness, your commitment, your total obsession with the people and things you love and believe in. Your instinct to preserve and nourish—You are so much like me!”

“If I am obsessed with the people I love, I can also do anything—and I mean absolutely anything—to protect them!” Her eyes flashed.

“I know.” He pinioned her with a steady gaze. “Remember, I told you that with your acumen it won’t take you long to cross the line between the lawful and unlawful? You are teetering on the brink, Sonia. A little push and you will be on the other side!”

“Then be warned. Stay away from Nidhi! Sonia rose and clutched the cage. ”And now I’m taking my cat and leaving.“

Instantly his hand shot out and gripped hers. “Not until you’ve heard me out,” he replied. There was a sharp edge to his voice.

She flung his arm away and faced him, her face flushed and angry.

“Not until I’ve had a chance to thank you personally,” he added deliberately.

“Thank me?” She raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

“Yes. For helping me find the jewels that I’ve been looking for, for years!”

“What jewels? How did I help you?” Sonia’s anger was swiftly replaced by confusion.

“My grandmother’s letters! Tara is my grandmother, and Asit her beloved friend,” Varun responded mildly.

“You’re lying!” Sonia exclaimed, as she slumped onto the stone slab, even as a sinking feeling seemed to suck her into the earth.

“Much as I’d like to move heaven and earth to please you, even my criminal standards cannot permit me to lie to you about my own grandmother,” he remarked wryly. “I’ve waited months to contact Asit. Not only because I was keen on meeting my grandmother’s great love, but also to collect the family heirlooms she’d entrusted to his care years ago and that she’d told him to return after her death. Don’t you remember the last letter she wrote to him? She mentioned returning to her grandchildren what she took from the family. It was the jewels. And now thanks to you, my dearest Sonia, they are in the custody of the family again!”

Sonia stared at him, dumbstruck. “But Devika…”

“Is my colleague. She did a good job, keeping an eye on you for me for almost a year. And when you refused to have anything to do with me, she readily took up the problem and addressed it as hers. She’s such a sport!”

“Sport, my foot! She’s a cheat. All these months she’s been pretending to be my friend, but actually all she was doing was acting under your instructions!” Sonia scoffed with loathing.

“Credit her with some sense of decency. She most certainly liked you a lot and she was glad of your friendship. And, please, don’t bother to rush back to the office to confront her. Devika’s gone for good. You’ll never see her again. Her job is done.”

“You’re impossible!” Sonia said in disgust.

“Proudly so. And unique, just like you. We’ll make a good pair. Have you considered my proposal?” he reminded, a twinkle in his blue eyes.

“What proposal?” Sonia’s heart skittered involuntarily.

Inside the Shiva temple a Pandit began chanting prayers. Yellow bulbs gave an ochre luminance to the misty caves and a bell tinkled auspiciously. Other sounds began intruding into the silence of dawn—an arati in the nearby temple, the birds announcing the arrival of the sun.

“You can’t have forgotten my proposal—of permanent friendship, of marriage!” Varun quirked an eyebrow saucily.

“Friendship! Do you even know what that word means? Friendship means love, selflessness, sensitivity— not cheating people and stealing diamonds. It’s a virtue gifted to a very few in the world. You’d need to put aside your selfish motives and think of others for a change. I doubt if you are capable of that!” she remarked, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Varun’s gaze bore into her eyes. “You’re right. Although I’m terribly hurt by your accusation.” He grimaced. Then he pursed his lips and cocked his head, studying Sonia minutely and unblinkingly. “A friend would understand a person’s innermost desire, her hurt and her pain. He would try to replace this pain by pleasure and peace, wouldn’t he? So let me begin by being your friend.” He leaned forward. “What if I tell you that I have some news of your brother that would relieve your pain forever!”

“My brother is dead,” Sonia whispered, in a freezing voice.

“So you think. I’m not so sure!”

Sonia’s heart was thudding so loudly and erratically that she was sure Varun could hear it. “Stop playing games with me!” she hissed.

“All right. Here it is straight: Accept my proposal of marriage and I’ll tell you everything I know about your brother!”

The meaning of his words imploded in her mind. Clutching Nidhi’s cage, Sonia rose, rage spearing through her, almost blinding her. “You’re a worse crook than I thought. I don’t ever wish to see you again!”

Varun laughed softly. “Easier said than done. This isn’t the last we’ll see of each other, my Glowworm. I’m ready to wait because patience is one of my virtues—few though my virtues may be. I’ll bide time till you come to your senses and see reason. Until then, goodbye!”

He blew her a flying kiss, turned with a swish of his overcoat, and strode away, quickly dissolving into the marigold tinged mist. Sonia stared after him, a cold hand clutching her heart. Had Varun been telling the truth? Did he indeed have some news of her brother? No, that was impossible! Her brother was dead and Varun Thakur was nothing but a cold-blooded liar!

“I’m such a gullible fool! He tricked me again!” Sonia exclaimed.

“You had no inkling that Devika was The Owl’s accomplice!” Mohnish pointed out in a pacifying tone.

“I ought to have. I’m an Investigator, for God’s sake!”

“A detective, but not a clairvoyant!” Mohnish shrugged as he tucked into a hearty breakfast of Upma. “Though it is intriguing how The Owl seems to be pursuing you so single-mindedly. What is it exactly that he wants?”

Jatin was watching his Boss, his face full of curiosity. Sonia averted her gaze.

“I don’t know! And I don’t care!”

The Christmas tree scintillated with the lit string of bulbs, glittering decorations, and the pretty gifts. But even as the three of them sat cross-legged on the Panchgani rug and ate their breakfast, Mohnish watched her over his plate uneasily. He felt indignant that The Owl could hurt Sonia as he had, but more disturbed that Sonia had slipped into a mood of remorse and anger, directed at herself. But this time it was also directed towards others.

“This is betrayal at its worst! Devika, who I thought was my friend—Just goes to show that charming looks and behaviour are no stranger to crime!” Sonia declared disgustedly.

“Now you know,” Jatin remarked with feeling, thinking, of course, of Naina. “The sting of deception…”

“It’s been such an eventful year, what with the ghost—who is still mysteriously in the shadows—our many cases, and now The Owl. Certainly not satisfactory in the least.” Sonia was thinking aloud. “So much backlog, so much still to do…”

“At least, I’m relieved, you’ve finally accepted Varun Thakur as The Owl. That’s an achievement in itself. Seeing the indisputable truth in its face,” Mohnish remarked.

Sonia turned a thoughtful eye on him. He had finished his Upma and was leaning against the wall, his legs stretched out comfortably before him.

She frowned. “Do I sound like I finally believe he is the noted international crook?”

“I certainly hope you do. Look, Nidhi is safe, and today’s Christmas. Why don’t we begin our celebrations?” Mohnish suggested, trying to change the mood.

“I’m going for the first present!” Jatin announced.

Nidhi meowed in agreement, jumping down from the window seat and rubbing herself against her Mistress’s legs. Sonia scooped her up, holding her to her cheek. To think that she had feared losing her beloved cat! The Owl, her chief adversary, would pay for every iota of his arrogance, and for every moment of anxiety he had thrust upon her. He had thoroughly disrupted the sense of accomplishment she had experienced after meeting Asit. Now all her efforts were tarnished with Varun’s tainted brush of crime. He may have his own warped justification for his actions, but her point of view was diametrically opposed to his. He was callous, brazenly mentioning her brother, trying to use him to emotionally blackmail her. There was no other explanation. The Owl was a shameless prankster! And to think that she had ever found herself drawn to him! Her attraction to him was an aberration, to be amended without delay. She firmly thrust the memory of the mesmerising, glittering gaze of blue eyes from her mind and concentrated on Nidhi.

“I’m so glad you are safe,” she murmured, caressing the little cat’s silky fur. “But remember that the next time someone tries to kidnap you, even if it is your former owner, scratch his face till he screams! Varun Thakur has been using both of us; you do understand, don’t you? And he needs to be taught a lesson!”

Nidhi turned her emerald green eyes on Sonia and blinked.

“That means now we both have a score to settle!”

Nidhi purred, signing a pact of war with Sonia, and sealing her eternal bond of love and loyalty!

About the Author

Ever since she can remember, Manjiri Prabhu wanted to be a writer. She has been writing since the age of seven.

With a Ph.D. in Film and Communication, by profession Manjiri has been a television producer for the last twenty years, having scripted, directed, and edited over two hundred programmes. She has penned two romances and a nonfiction book on films titled Roles: Reel and Real. She has written the stories, scripts, and dialogues for full-length feature films. She has also worked as a freelance film critic for Indian newspapers, reviewing English, Hindi, and Marathi films.

Manjiri Prabhu lives in Pune, India, and her major concern is animal welfare. She strives for the care and protection of street dogs and cats.