The Cosmic Clues (22 page)

“Oh, no thanks, I've just had mine,” Pawar declined.

“Fine, then let's get down to work. You searched Kusum's cottage last night, didn't you? Can you tell me what you found?”

“The room was pretty untidy. A chair and the wastepaper basket were upturned, probably in her struggle to steady herself. There was a basket of berries and her purse contents on the table. Bits and scraps of paper—nothing important—in the waste bin. The berries have gone to the Lab. We suspect that the cyanide was swallowed.”

“Do you know, she's the one who sent the fruits to everyone,” Sonia pointed out. “As goodbye—how fateful! How sad . . .”

“I heard. But then someone tampered with her berries for sure. We've taken samples from all the four baskets. But since the others ate the berries and are unharmed, we can be quite sure, Kusum's basket was the only one to be contaminated,” Pawar said.

“But when? When and how did anyone have the time to tamper with the berries, provided of course, that's the way cyanide found a way into her body. How was the cyanide inserted into the berries? And of course, most importantly, why?”

“The three
M
s of investigation,” Jatin interposed with understanding.

“A good many questions, and we hope to find the answers to them all,” Pawar assured confidently.

“Did you go through her handbag? What was in it? Did you make an inventory?”

“Of course! All the lady stuff—compact, lipstick, a small tin of talcum powder, some papers, a horoscope, phone diary, some tissue papers, a chequebook, that's all.”

Sonia was thoughtful. “You know what fascinates me most? The timing. And the fact that someone has been extremely clever and intelligent in using Kusum's gifts against her. This has to be an inside job—someone from the film unit who had good reason to kill her, who had access to the cottages, and who could move about the place without rousing suspicion.”

“But the film unit had left by then, except for . . . Do you mean one of the three to whom the berries were gifted?” Jatin asked.

“Possibly,” Sonia replied thoughtfully.

“Rest assured. By evening we shall have found out who poisoned K.Kusum,” Pawar wagered.

Admiration shone in Sonia's eyes. “I like your confidence, Sub-Inspector.”

The tiny makeshift shack of corrugated sheets had a prime location in the marketplace. The boy sat behind a wooden table along with his grandfather, the old man with the
dhoti
who sold strawberries. Bouquets of exotic local flowers and crates of berries lined the iron shelves. Jatin lolled on a tall stool, as Sonia tried to get some information out of the son.

“What's your name?” she asked in Marathi.

“Ganu,” the boy, who was in his teens, replied. “What is it, what did we do wrong?” he asked a trifle anxiously.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing wrong,” Sonia reassured immediately. “But I want you to tell me exactly what passed between that lady who bought the strawberries from you and your grandfather. I mean, what did she say?”

“The filmy lady—Kusumji? She asked us to deliver four baskets to her cottage in the evening. So I chose the best fruits and Nana took them to her.”

“Do you recognize these film people?”

“Of course! I've seen all their films. I know them by heart. I love Chirag Mehta's films. I think Jayji is okay, though. Could do better films. And Nimishaji—who doesn't love her? All my friends think she's the most beautiful actress in the industry! Even Nana here likes her!” Ganu laughed, nudging his grandfather. “Don't you, Nana?”

Nana's wrinkled face creased into a smile of general understanding.

“Nana, you took the baskets to Kusum?” Sonia asked in a raised voice.

“Yes. I took them to Madam but she said she'd like some ribbons put on each basket. And she asked me to go to the general store and buy the ribbons. Pink, blue, red, and green, according to the cards.”

“And did you do as she told you?”

“Of course. I bought the ribbons and put them on the cards, just as she told me.”

“And then what did you do?”

“Madam had informed the hotel Manager that I would be delivering the fruit baskets, so I had no problem moving about the premises. First, I kept Kusumji's basket—she had ordered one for herself too—on her table. Then I went along and delivered the other fruit baskets—to Jayji and Nimishaji and then Chiragji, but he wasn't in his cottage.”

“How long did it take you to deliver all the baskets?”

“Just a few minutes. All these people are put up in four cottages in a row. It hardly took me any time at all.”

“And did Jay and Nimisha say anything to you?”

“They thanked me.”

Sonia smiled at Ganu and his grandfather. “Look, if you remember anything else—anything at all—please contact me immediately at the cottage. And thank you for your help.”

Nana and Ganu nodded.

“Where to next, Boss?” Jatin asked.

“Nimisha Raikar.”

Sonia glanced around the cottage, while Nimisha freshened up in the bathroom. The cottages were identical. A small sitting room and a bedroom with attached toilet. Neat and cozy. On the table stood a basket of berries. Sonia fingered the slightly withered fruits, past their glory, her hand traveling down to the card. It simply said
Kusum.
A pink satin ribbon adorned the bouquet. A coffeepot, filled with steaming-hot coffee, was awaiting consumption.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Sonia. But I like to sleep in late and last night was such a shock. I still can't believe it!” Nimisha was in her nightgown, with a woollen wraparound thrown casually over her shoulders.

She poured herself a cup of coffee, then settled down in the chair opposite Sonia and Jatin. “You wish to ask me something, don't you?”

“Just a few questions.”

“Okay, shoot.” Nimisha sipped delicately from the steaming cup.

“Do you have any idea why anyone would want to kill Kusum?” Sonia asked.

Nimisha shook her head. “Absolutely no idea. I mean, who could do this to Kusum? In fact, I'm truly shocked.”

“Are you?” Sonia asked a trifle sharply, and Nimisha stared at her with wide eyes.

“You don't mean to imply that I actually
know
something about this business?” the actress asked incredulously.

Sonia matched the stare, with a contemplative glint. “All
I know
is that something was not right between the two of you last night. I sensed the friction and heard your snide remarks. What is it, Nimisha? Tell me. You were so different with her last night. You said you were old friends. Why were you so . . . hard . . . so cruel, so unlike you, with her?”

Nimisha blushed. “So you noticed.”

“Of course! Something was going on between the two of you and I need to know what it was. It may be unrelated to Kusum's murder, but you've got to tell me, Nimisha, whatever it is!” Sonia urged.

Nimisha rose gracefully and poured herself another cup. Then, still standing, she faced Sonia. “Yes, there is something, but I'm positive that it has nothing to do with Kusum's death, which was just something she ate wrong, or perhaps even a heart attack. And right now, I'm not even sure I should repeat the knowledge. Now that Kusum's gone, I do not wish to reveal the skeletons in her cupboard.”

“But earlier you wished to do so,” Sonia said shrewdly.

Nimisha nodded. “I thought it was the right thing to do—then.”

“But if it's important, you've got to tell me!”

Nimisha dithered, then sighed. “Well, all right. I'd discovered a secret of Kusum's that no one—not a soul—was aware of. I think you almost discovered it yourself last night.”

Sonia and Jatin passed each other quick looks, but maintained a silence.

“More than a month ago, Chirag and I were returning from a day's shoot and our car broke down near Malewadi, a village which is about two hours from here. We had to take help from the locals. While the village mechanic was inspecting the vehicle, I strolled around and came upon a very pretty cottage. A thin, pale woman was sitting in the garden, being attended to by a nurse. The woman recognized me at once and invited me inside. I got chatting with her. She seemed to know so much about me and mentioned all my films and dances that had become a hit. I was led inside the cottage for tea and there on the shelf I saw photographs of Kusum and this very woman. I was astounded when she admitted that she was Kusum's sister, Geeta!”

Jatin turned a quick surprised look towards Sonia, but she was concentrating completely on her friend.

Nimisha shook her head reflectively. “It was when Geeta went to her room to fetch something that the nurse bared the real relationship between the sisters. A stroke had left Geeta extremely ill and weak, years ago, and she rarely left the house. Geeta had been an exquisite dancer and Choreographer before the stroke. But after the illness, it was her sister who took advantage of her talent. Kusum was always aware that Geeta was the more talented of the two. The nurse told me how after a year, when Geeta recovered sufficiently to walk around, Kusum brainwashed the poor woman into thinking that she would always be too weak to pursue a career and that Kusum would have to take care of her all her life. Not wanting to be a burden on her sister, sensitive Geeta, despite being an invalid, had wanted to assist her. She continued to be extremely creative. The nurse explained that since her health did not permit her to actually enact each step that she imagined and designed, Geeta kept an illustration book, in which she drew all the dance poses, like a step-by-step guide with neat sketches for Kusum to follow easily. She was so creative, in fact, that each step of Kusum's that took her up the ladder of success was a product of Geeta's brain. Kusum realized that she had finally found a gold mine under her very own roof! She took credit for Geeta's dances, passing them off as her own. Kusum deliberately kept her talented sister under wraps, for fear of exposing her own lack of expertise.

“When the nurse showed me the Choreography book on which Geeta etched all her creativity, I was amazed. The book contained detailed storyboards, with camera angles and shot sizes and shot changes on exact lyrics and musical beats of all the songs Kusum had choreographed. Each song was professionally detailed on paper, paying heed to the minutest aspect. As I looked at the sketches, I could hear the song in my head and could imagine myself dancing, and I suddenly experienced immense awe and respect for the gentle Geeta—the original creator of my dances! I was also thoroughly moved and upset. I knew that I had met Geeta purely by chance and learnt this most extraordinary and fascinating truth by sheerest accident. But I couldn't let it go at that. When Geeta returned to the room, I advised her to rebel against the domineering Kusum, but she was too reconciled to her non-existence. She had no strength to go against her sister, who was at least providing her with a comfortable life.”

Nimisha sighed. “I was really shocked. If anyone realized that the brain behind Kusum's famous dance steps—those that tipped me and her to stardom—was her sister, what a downfall it would be for Kusum! All her success, everything that she'd achieved in her life, would seem fake. She would be an object of ridicule and pity and her position in the film world would be lost for good.”

“And did you tell Kusum all this?” Sonia inquired.

“Yes. I was hell-bent on seeing justice done. I felt that if Kusum had a shred of decency she would give Geeta her due, even if she could never make use of the acclaim. I asked her to give Geeta her credit, but she refused brazenly. Do you know what she said to me?
‘Upon my dead body!'
—that's what she said to me. No remorse, no regrets. Just plain cold denial. We argued a lot. Perhaps Kusum thought suicide was the best way out—to die instead of face the humiliation and stigma of rejection.”

“Suicide,” Sonia repeated reflectively. “Yes, I know what you mean. K.Kusum must not have taken your ‘suggestions' kindly. You were a threat to her existence as a Choreographer. Perhaps the only way out for her was death.”

Jatin flashed Sonia a look. Something about her manner made him speculate. What was running through her mind? he asked himself.

“But this wasn't suicide, was it?” Nimisha asked astutely. “Was Kusum really murdered?”

“I personally think so. Nimisha, what did you do before you joined me at the lawn yesterday.”

“I was getting dressed, of course. Then since we were all going to leave the next day, I got busy with some packing. I had almost finished when the Vendor appeared with a basket of berries from Kusum, which surprised me. But then I felt that she was trying to pacify things between us, so I accepted the gift. I think almost immediately the Hotel Boy came calling me, saying there was a phone call for Kusum and me. But when we both reached the Manager's cabin, the line was blank.”

“Is that unusual?” Sonia asked.

“Not particularly.” Nimisha shrugged. “Fans try this kind of stuff. They obtain the number from somewhere and are content to simply hear your voice.”

“And then what happened after that?”

“I joined you and Jay.”

Sonia nodded. “I guess that's all for now. Nimisha, if you remember anything unusual—anything at all—please pass it on to me, okay?”

“I will,” her old friend promised.