"It should be made illegal for people to have such lavish and luxurious houses," Shukla comments the moment Vimal Sharma's bungalow comes to vision. I secretly agree with him but do not utter a comment. I am on fourth Nicorette since crime scene and the blood is pumping in my veins heightening the sense of unknown - the feeling I got while working on a case.
"Let's just interview the family and get out of here. I hope they are notified." I flash my badge on the security personnel's face and motion him to open the door. The guard lets our jeep in. I see him making a note of our jeep number, my name and probably my badge number in his book. Rich people were a paranoid bunch but then again we were entering the property of the one of the country's largest diamonds merchants and cutters of the country.
"They are already notified sir." Shukla replies maneuvering the jeep to halt in front of the porch.
We were welcomed by a sharply dressed man and taken inside a small library of sorts where the entire family was present. Vimal Sharma's older and younger brother, their wives and Mrs. Vimal Sharma.
"I am very sorry for your loss." I drone mechanically and give them a briefing. Vimal Sharma was found dead two hours ago in a house he rented out for his mistress in suburbs. The body was taken by medical examiner for autopsy and forensic examination.
"We have some questions," Shukla begins after we have answered few of their questions.
The brothers and the wife remain. They are a tight bunch, I observe. But something was off. They were too...calm about the whole thing.
"Where can we find the mistress?" I delved right in. I saw no reason to hold anything back.
The brothers immediately launched into defensive drivel which bored the hell out of me. The wife looked at me from under her lashes and curled her lips just a little. I maintain a neutral expression and lock my eyes with the elder brother.
"Don't waste my time Mr. Sharma. If I have to find out about her using other methods, I will. If you have the information, share it with us without wasting both our times." Shukla raises an eyebrow at me. My patient response has stumped him off.
What can I say; I am trying to turn into a new leaf here.
The wife places her hand on the elder brother's knee. The gesture is innocent but her smirk on her lips isn't. The man goes silent as if her palm just sent an order directly to his brain. "Why don't you two leave me to deal with the questions?" She looks at them. They start to protest but she narrows her eyes discreetly. The protests stops and the two men walk out of the study without saying anything else.
"Her name is Helen. She used to work at Moonraker. Now she just hangs around there whenever my husband isn't in her bed." She lights up a cigarette. Her eyes never leave mine and the intensity amplifies the tension.
"You don't seem to be upset about his death," Shukla says. She breaks our eye contact and turns to look at him. Her face loses its luster and she takes a long drag.
"He was a basta*d of a man who preferred girls aged less than twenty five. That's how I got married to him in the first place. whor*s were common but having a mistress was pushing it. But no one cared because he always came home like a well-trained bitch." She shrugs delicately. I must confess, there is intoxicated beckoning in her gaze and she bit her lip several times to accentuate her sexuality.
I don't know if she always wore sexuality like makeup or if she was into her husband's murder much deeper than she is letting on. I am betting on latter but knowing Shukla, she would bet on former.
"Where were you this evening?" Shukla ignores her answer and keeps the channel of questioning open.
"I was at an art gallery. I came home when I heard the news." She looks at me and answers. She has been looking at me for good part of this interview. It's disconcerting but I look at her blankly.
"Did your husband have lot of enemies?" Shukla continues. My mouth is strangely clamped as I try to figure out the woman in front of me.
"He was a man with money and power Inspector. Sometimes we fail to recognize the difference between friends and enemies." She looks at Shukla when she answers.
"Please elaborate further," Shukla persists. She chews her lip and bobs her head for seconds. A memory comes to her as her eyes become sharper and focused.
"He, and the family, is funding a newly formed political party for the coming elections. The family has been a staunch supporter of the opposition party for decades but - Vimal cut all ties with them. I don't know what went wrong but he advised his brothers that their affiliation would be changed in coming days." She explained.
"Are you suggesting a politically motivated murder?" I ask her.
The coyness she has splashed on her face dissolves into something akin to fear. She fidgets on her feet and her fingers clench and unclench couple of times.
"I am not sure ACP Raizada. There have been some heated meetings with lobbyists and middlemen for politicians. But he told me two weeks ago that everything was settled down and it was all over." Her voice is cracking and I think the loss of her husband is finally affecting her.
"Were there any threats made to him?" Shukla navigates the interview and takes the reigns. I have already given him the direction.
"No...there were none...none that I know of, at least. It doesn't make sense..." She trails as if a memory surfaced on her mind.
"What is it Mrs. Sharma?" Shukla presses urgently.
"He has been scared of someone...or something...for last six months." There is tension in her voice. "He never confided in me about it. Maybe he told Helen about it?" She throws a rope for us catch.
Shukla and I look at each other and stand up simultaneously. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Sharma." I am sincere in my gratitude. The wife nods at me and smiles a little.
"If I have some information to pass on to you...I will have to call you..." She lets the words hang. Shukla looks at me in free amusement.
"Call 100 and ask for ACP Raizada. They will patch you through."
I don't wait for a response and swish my trench coat as I turn and walk out of the house.
Shukla lets out bark of laughter the moment we step out of the house. We both know the night wasn't over yet.
"Let's go to Moonraker," I have a bad feeling about the case. "This is the perfect time to go to that place." Shukla nods and complies.
"What do you think Shukla?" I start my analysis. The drive is long and I am running low on Nicorette and black tea. Nerves are wound tight and the murder was messy. "Why wasn't Helen in her house when her lover was there? Isn't that the arrangement these relationships have?" I already suspect the woman.
"Maybe she was running late. Maybe Vimal Sharma sent her on an errand. Maybe she killed him." Shukla offered options. Tempting as they were, they didn't make sense.
"Yeah, maybe..." I tilt my head towards window and watch scenery pass by. The symbol I saw on the wall was playing in my mind and I am not even close to finding what it is. I feel the answer is very close to me but - it's hiding in plain sight.
Shukla and I don't talk for the rest of the ride, each drowning in our own thoughts.
*****
The hotel reeks of bad decisions, cheap alcohol and half naked women. The moment I step foot into the joint, two women pounce on Shukla and manage to throw a dirty look at me. Yeah, I am not a popular guy.
"We can show you good time, right here and right now," one girl yells in Shukla's ears, her hands coiling his waist like poisonous snake. Shukla isn't wee bit shaken. He shrugs off the women and gives them a name.
"Get me Helen." Shukla said nonchalantly. The girls scowl at him hearing the name of her adversary. Their petty jealousy amuses me and I see Shukla smiling thinly in my peripheral vision.
"We charge extra for groups," the man behind bar counter sniggers looking and Shukla and I. It's nauseating how he doesn't respect the uniform on our skin or even pretend to assume that it could be possible police business.
The environment sobers a little when they see Shukla's blank expression and the semi-automatic he has been massaging for few seconds.
"Which room is she in?" I ask breaking the tension. I don't have to show my badge - there is no need to. Only five weeks ago I had dragged a drunken loser who happened to be governor's nephew out of this filthy hole on orders. I frankly didn't give a flying f**k about the private lives of politically powerful personnel but I was already running low on temper and goodwill of my bosses so I had given into the useless manhunt.
"You'll find her in second floor, third door on your right." The barman wisely shuts up and goes back to wiping the bar table. I don't know why all barmen keep doing that - wiping the table over and over again; as if the sins would become visible if they didn't keep cleaning.
Shukla and I take the stairs up and ignore at least two dozen laws being broken from ground floor two second. I shake my head at Shukla when he looks at me with steely gaze and a plea - to arrest the man escorting us to second floor carrying illegal weapons.
Our escort knocks on the door calling out the name of the woman we are looking for. There is no response and my patience just died then. He is about to rap the door again but I just kick the door open. Cheap door banged open noisily and we immediately knew why Helen couldn't open the door.
Helen lay on her bed motionless. Shukla hurried towards the bed and checked her pulse.
He turns and looks at me shaking his head. "She is dead." His voice holds sadness for a stranger. I nod for no reason.
This is unprecedented and throws me off the loop. The mistress of Vimal Sharma lay dead in her temporary abode.
The escort is scared, I can tell. He runs out of the room and his heavy footsteps echoes noisily in that dingy corridor. "Sir, check this." Shukla calls for my attention.
I walk towards the bed and see what Shukla is pointing to.
Helen has a small zip-lock cover clutched in her hand with a tablet in it. It is possible that there were more of those tablets in that cover which she ingested. I couldn't say if it was forced or she was coerced. However it was weird that a man and his mistress were dead in different locations at approximately same time.
I rub my temple in tiredness and call Arjun.
It is going to be a long night.
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