Dead in a Mumbai Minute (24 page)

‘He keeps drugs on the island?’

‘Yeah, Kimaaya would freak out if she gets to know. She’s absolutely hardcore about her no-drugs policy. Before she invites people, she makes it clear that they aren’t to carry anything stronger than alcohol and antacids.’

‘He keeps his stash buried in the pit next to where we found you,’ I said. Forensics had confirmed my theory that the shard of wood I found was from a box. It must have been Raj’s pill receptacle.

Viraat nodded. ‘I went to the yacht to get the Scotch and look for my pills. When I couldn’t find them, I called Raj.’

‘The police told you there was flunitrazepam in your system.’

‘Yeah, I guess that’s what made me pass out.’

I waited for the penny to drop, but it seemed it would be a while.

‘That’s not what Raj said he was giving you, was it?’ I asked.

‘No, he was supposed to give me some E.’

‘And then he roofied you.’

I saw the realization creep into his eyes. He jumped up and pounded his fist on the table.

‘That bastard stole my watch!’

‘I believe he did. Did you have the wine bottle with you when you went out to meet him?’

‘I did,’ he said ruefully. ‘There was a little left from when we decanted, and I remember grabbing it from the poolside bar. I waited in the gazebo for Raj, and I think I left it there.’

I pictured a wasted Viraat taking a slug from that bottle, worth crores, which wine lovers around the world would kill for a little taste of. Poor Ashutosh Dhingre wasn’t the only casualty that night.

I called the guards at Maaya and told them to immediately search Raj’s room, and then went back to meet Ajay. ‘Good news and bad,’ I said.

‘Good news first.’

‘Viraat has finally revealed how he ended up under the hedge on Maaya Island.’

‘Has he?

‘He met the fitness instructor Raj Rathore, who promised to give him a little something of a pharmaceutical nature. Instead of whatever it is that was promised, Raj slipped him a roofie. My guess is that Raj heard Viraat boasting about the value of the watch he was wearing when he slipped down to the party briefly, and decided to make the most of it.’

‘Are you testing your theory?’

‘I have asked the guards to search Rathore’s belongings.’ But I already knew what I needed to – I remembered the well-kempt Raj’s ragged, dirty nails the day we questioned him. He had dug up that box in the garden not hours before.

Ajay nodded. ‘Though he was our best suspect, Viraat never looked good for Dhingre’s murder to me. Now the bad news, please.’

‘He is not willing to go on record with where he was at the time of Afreen’s death.’

‘Why the hell not?’

‘Apparently the truth will compromise him in his father’s financial graces, and he is willing to wait on the evidence to prove he didn’t do it.’

‘Then he isn’t as stupid as he looks. In truth, apart from the fact that it was Viraat’s flat she was murdered in, there is no evidence pointing to him. Any ideas?’

‘I think he was out scoring drugs.’

Ajay frowned. ‘He’s willing to risk a murder charge for this? I’m not interested in a drug bust here.’

‘I tried telling him that, but he’s more afraid of his father and being disinherited than he is of you and a jail term.’

‘I will never understand these people with all the money in the world and no sense at all.’

‘Is any of this of much use without the name of a dealer to corroborate the alibi?’

‘At least it tells us we need to look elsewhere for now.’

‘What about Raj Rathore?’

‘If you find the watch on him, we’ll bring him in.’

‘Would you be looking at him for murder?

‘Dhingre could have stumbled upon him while he was stealing the watch. You aren’t convinced?’ he asked.

‘If he had done it, why stick around on the island? Why not take the watch, sell it and disappear? It doesn’t make sense.’

Ajay’s eyes betrayed little as he assessed me. ‘This is your first case for Titanium?’

I nodded.

‘Shayak has so much faith in you that he gives you one of the most high-profile cases of the year.’

I felt my hackles rise but held my tongue.

‘I can see why,’ he said. Ajay looked even more uncomfortable after issuing the compliment than I was having received it.

‘Would you like to get dinner sometime?’ he asked abruptly.

In shock, I glanced a little too quickly at his hands, which were fiddling with a pen on his desk. He didn’t miss it.

‘I’m not married,’ he said, a small smile softening his unapologetically brusque manner. ‘Or otherwise accounted for.’

I told myself to proceed with caution – this was dangerous ground. ‘I do not date people I work with.’

‘You don’t work with me. We just happen to both be working the same case at the moment.’

‘Still.’

‘Let’s not call it a date. Just a meal between unattached associates. I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to repeat the experience.’

I said nothing. And then my phone rang. It was the guard at Maaya. ‘Madam, we have found a watch in Raj Rathore’s room. It was found inside a cavity in the mattress.’

I moved the phone away from my ear. ‘They found the watch,’ I said to Ajay. ‘Anything else?’ I asked the guard.

‘No, ma’am.’

‘I’ll have a team over in an hour; ask them to keep him in a secure location till then, guarded at all times,’ said Ajay.

I hung up. ‘He must have tossed whatever drugs he had into the ocean, or disposed of them by some other means.’

‘So how about tomorrow?’ continued Ajay, as though we had not been interrupted. ‘Maybe around 9 pm? I’ll call to confirm tomorrow – I’m sure your schedule is as crazy as mine.’

‘Okay,’ I said.

I left, having cleared one man on murder and arranged to bring in another suspect, but all shaken up at the possibility of a date. It was time for a distress call to Sohana.

‘I need advice,’ I said, telling her my problem on my way back to office.

‘So many men, so little Reema for them to share.’ She laughed.

‘Please, Sohana, I’m drowning here!’

‘God, you’re such a mess. This won’t happen over the phone. Give me a call when you’re done with work. I’ll come over.’

I kept tabs on Rathore’s progress till he was in police custody and no longer my headache, and then I called Kimaaya. ‘You have heard about Raj Rathore?’ I asked.

‘Yes, and I am shocked. But I am so happy we can give Viraat his watch back. He’s going through so much as it is.’

‘You know Raj had drugs on him, at the island?’

‘What!’

‘Yes. He drugged Viraat.’

Kimaaya let out a sigh. ‘Why is it so difficult to find clean people in this town? I even had random drug tests for all staff worked into the contract.’

‘He did his best to keep it quiet. He had his stash buried. I’m sure you also heard about Afreen’s death,’ I said.

‘Yes.’

‘Do you know anything about the recent films she’s been working on?’

‘Why don’t you speak to Nimisha about this? She’ll have a better idea than me,’ she said.

I did as Kimaaya suggested, calling Kimaaya’s assistant. ‘Such a shame,’ she clucked. I could hear the TV blaring in the background. She didn’t bother to turn down the volume.

‘Do you know anything about her career in films? Kimaaya said you might.’

‘Sorry to sound so cold, but “career” might be a bit of an overstatement.’

‘She had landed a couple of roles of late, or so she told me.’

‘A piece of eye candy in a B-grade action film and a lead in a campus love story produced by MTM.’

Manmohan T. Mahindra, with a long Bollywood pedigree but little box-office success in the past decade. Rumoured to be broke, he was suddenly bankrolled for a back-to-college film by an investor, starring forty-something star Adil Khan.

‘How did she get the MTM film? Isn’t that a big project?’

‘Yes, and many known stars were vying for it.’

‘Including Kimaaya?’

‘No, no. All of these young things.’

‘Why Afreen, then?’

‘I heard MTM wanted a fresh face.’

‘You sound sceptical.’

‘If you’d been in the business as long as I have, you’d be sceptical too.’

‘I’m sorry Nimisha, but I really need you to be clear about what you mean.’

‘What do you think I mean? It could be any number of things – she slept with the producer, she slept with the director, she slept with the actor, take your pick. One or all are possibilities.’

That was way more honesty than I had bargained for. ‘Can you get me an interview with any of these people?’

‘Sorry, Reema. Kimaaya’s never worked with that team. I really don’t have any connection with them.’

How much did I doubt that? And yet I had no choice but to accept it, given that Afreen’s case was forbidden fruit. I couldn’t risk being pushier, and having either Kimaaya or Nimisha raise a red flag.

I made a quick stop at the supermarket after work. It was finally time to debut the new oven. Once home, I stocked the fridge and cupboards, and had just started my prep when the phone rang. Terrence.

‘Tell me,’ I said.

‘Pretty straightforward. Kavita Ghosh, Baguihati. Took part in and won a small-time local beauty pageant two years ago. After that she began to chase the Bollywood dream. Got in touch with some sketchy agent who promised her a shot at stardom. Her parents tried to stop her from leaving town but failed. When she disappeared, they attempted to make a stink in the media with it. There was a bit of a splash in one of the smaller Bengali dailies, but they couldn’t make the fraud charges stick.’

‘Any information about this agent?’

‘I’ll send you the details but from what it looks like, it is a fairly standard talent search agency.’

I hung up and mulled over what I had just heard. There was nothing, for the moment, which helped.

So, for now, I would cook. I had started setting things out when Sohana arrived with a bottle of wine and made herself at home. ‘What’s on the menu?’ she asked.

‘Quiche Lorraine with rocket, pear and walnut salad.’

‘Yum! This is why I needed you here in Mumbai. Want some help?’

‘Not really. I hope you aren’t on one of your diets.’

The smell of bacon in the skillet was filling the room. Sohana took in a lungful. ‘I’d come out of a Master Cleanse for a taste of that.’

I set the bacon aside and handed Sohana the cheese to grate. I then started on the pastry.

‘Before we get to the business for the night,’ I said, ‘I have a favour to ask.’

‘Shoot.’

‘Would you by any chance know Manmohan T. Mahindra?’

‘The producer? No. You know me – I cover all the non-glam stuff. Politics. Crime.’

‘Do you know anything about him?’

‘All hearsay, so you might want to take it with a pinch of salt.’

I followed nothing of Bollywood gossip, so anything she could tell me was helpful.

‘MTM was part of the old-school Bollywood crowd of gangs and money laundering. A few years ago, he had to flee to Dubai to avoid the wrath of some funders. He came back recently and has been trying to relaunch himself.’

‘So why was this project so sought after?’

‘Because MTM is connected, has had a lot of success in the past and no one really holds these things against you in this town, in this business.’

‘Any clue who his mystery backers are?’

‘Can’t help you there.’

Sohana opened the bottle and hunted through my scanty cupboards and discovered a couple of wine glasses. Meanwhile, I covered my pastry-lined pie plate with foil and poured in some kidney beans before slipping it into the oven to bake. Sohana was appalled. ‘Your quiche better not involve rajma.’

‘Improvised pie weights. It’s to make sure the pastry doesn’t puff up.’

She heaved a sigh of relief. ‘I should know better than to doubt you when it comes to cooking. With the men, my faith is not as intact.’

‘Okay, so I am bad with guys. I am finally going to admit it, so you can stop rubbing it in and help me. There is this man – he’s in the police, and is sort of working on the same case as me. He’s asked me out.’

‘Who is it?’

Though Sohana didn’t know much about Bollywood, police matters were very much her domain. ‘Ajay Shankaran.’