Murder in Bollywood (7 page)

‘Sir, what do you mean by he or she? Do you really think a woman could have done this?' Zagde, who had been standing quietly until then, inquired sceptically.

‘It's possible,' replied Hoshiyar, with a nod of his head. ‘You see, other than the damage to his head and bruises at the back of his neck, there are no injuries on the deceased's body, which indicates the absence of a struggle between him and his killer, meaning he was taken by surprise, and that could have happened because his assailant wasn't strong enough to do it in any other way. Apart from this, Mr Tiwari was a slight man, so it wouldn't have been difficult for anyone to drag his body all the way to the tub along the slippery bathroom floor and smash his skull as he lay unconscious. But in hindsight, I was wrong to think the killer followed him back home from JK Studio last night, because if he had seen Mr Tiwari talking to me, then perhaps he or she would have tried to kill us both in that church itself. However, until the gender of the killer becomes known to us, I am inclined to spare the fairer sex the ignominy of being called a murderer, and shall refer to the killer as a man,' Hoshiyar concluded with a smile.

‘You mean, the person you spoke to last night in the confessional was Ram Prasad Tiwari?' Zagde exclaimed.

‘Yes, without doubt,' Hoshiyar replied.

‘But how can you be so sure? You yourself said that the man in the church was heavily disguised,' Meeta reasoned.

‘Please follow me,' Hoshiyar said, leading Meeta and Zagde into the walk-in closet, where he showed them a pair of black sunglasses, a black trench coat and a full-brimmed hat, also black, neatly arranged among all the costumes and props in that long corridor-like space, right beside a heavy beard and moustache most familiar.

‘This was the get-up he was wearing last night. The moment I came in and saw him lying on the bathroom floor, I realized he looked vaguely familiar. Then, while I was checking his body for any signs of injury that might have been missed by Commissioner Ghankar's team, not only did I find the stun gun burn, but I also came across traces of spirit gum along his jawline, and spirit gum, as we know, is used by actors to stick fake beards and moustaches, which means, it is rather sticky and does not come off with water alone. Once this discovery was made, I was pretty convinced that Mr Tiwari was the man I had met last night, so I decided to have a look around the bedroom and see if I could find his disguise, which would prove that fact beyond a doubt. And the moment I peeped inside the walk-in closet, there it was. After that, all we needed was to placate the commissioner and get him out of here so that we can begin our investigation, without him jumping in and derailing it,' Hoshiyar explained.

‘That's all fine, but after Mule, Tiwari was the only person who could have helped us with our investigation. Now with him dead, we have lost our only lead, so what probe do we have left?' Meeta exclaimed.

‘Well, his death is a setback, no doubt, but it isn't the end of the case, as we are not completely in the dark. Some of the facts are known to us. For example, Nikhil Kapoor had invited eight people to his home one night for an after-party game of cards, during which he proclaimed in a drunken stupor that one of them was a murderer who would kill again and he knew who it was. A few days later, he and his wife Mallika, who was also present at that card game, wound up dead. After their demise, those same eight people met up at an isolated place and promised to stand by each other, because they were bound by a common secret from their past which they had sworn never to reveal, otherwise they would all be destroyed. Now, Tiwari, who was one of the eight, told me that that secret involved murder, where one among them was a killer, but that person's identity was unknown to the rest. Tiwari believed that Nikhil discovered who it was and that got him and Mallika killed. Tiwari then violated his oath of silence and hired detective Mule to track down the killer, and from their last telephonic conversation, it appeared that Mule had succeeded, but he didn't give Tiwari the name, and instead told him to keep watch over Nikhil's and Mallika's adopted son Rohan, because he believed the boy was in danger. But while Mule was following a lead in Shimla, the killer caught up with him and killed him. Then the killer returned to Mumbai and wasted no time in eliminating the man who had hired the detective, namely Tiwari, coincidentally choosing the same night that he and I met up in the church. Like I said earlier, I don't believe the killer followed Tiwari home from the church, otherwise he would have gotten rid of the disguise and removed all traces of spirit gum from his face so that when his body was found, there was no way to tell that Tiwari was the man I had met. In my opinion, the killer entered the house last night after Tiwari returned, and put away his disguise. He then attacked him from the back with the stun gun and killed him as I had earlier described. I am certain the killer doesn't know that Tiwari spoke to the police before he died and let us in on a few important facts about this case. This is the one thing that we can use to our advantage,' Hoshiyar replied, with his eyes shining bright.

‘All right. Where do we begin?' Meeta asked after some deliberation.

‘Nikhil's and Mallika's adopted son Rohan is where we should begin. Mule had categorically told Tiwari that the boy's life was in danger. It's possible that Rohan knows something about his parents' murder, because of which the killer will target him. We must get to him quickly and question him to find out what it is,' Hoshiyar said.

‘But if the boy has information on his parents' murder, then why hasn't he approached us till now?' Zagde asked.

‘Probably because he is afraid, or maybe what he knows, albeit important, is something so minute that he hasn't connected it to his parents' murder as yet,' Hoshiyar said, then paused reflectively for a few moments and spoke once more, in a slightly more serious tone. ‘But the real question is, how do we handle commissioner saheb from here on? If we tell him that Tiwari was murdered, as also Nikhil and Mallika, and request him to reopen that case, he'll either turn down our request or take over the investigation himself, running it into the ground. But if we don't tell him and begin our investigation secretly, and he comes to know, he will deliberately ruin our probe just like he has done on a number of occasions in the past.'

Meeta now frowned and became sombre. For the next few moments, she immersed herself in intense deliberation and then said to Hoshiyar, ‘Let's not breathe a word of this to Ghankar. He has given us seven days to wrap up this investigation nice and neat, and that's exactly what we'll do, by proving Tiwari was murdered and nabbing his killer, who has also killed detective Mule, along with Nikhil and Mallika Kapoor. I am sure that once we present the guilty party to the commissioner and permit him to take most of the credit for the arrest, the prospect of him making headline news for cracking one of the most sensational and high-profile murder cases of all time should douse his ire sufficiently. In the meantime, Hoshiyar, pay a visit to the Kapoor residence and interview young Rohan today itself. Find out everything he knows, and for his own safety, offer him police protection until we can figure out who's behind all of this. And take Zagde with you.'

Hoshiyar answered in the affirmative to this command, then turned around and walked towards the door, only to stop midway, suddenly hesitant and unsure.

‘What's the matter? Is something wrong?' Meeta asked.

‘No, ma'am, it's just a thought. Last night, inside the confessional, when I asked Tiwari his name, he called himself Shobhit Acharya,' Hoshiyar replied.

‘So what? It's just a name he came up with. I mean, he was hardly going to give you his real name,' Meeta said.

‘Yes, but why that name in particular? I am sure he could have come up with a simpler name or not given me a name at all. But there he was wearing that ridiculous disguise and calling himself Shobhit Acharya. I mean, just think about it. His disguise was very obvious and badly thought out. It looked fake in every way. But the name he used was well thought out and sounded real. However, it just didn't go with his get-up,' Hoshiyar explained.

‘You think he used that particular name for a reason?' Meeta asked.

To this question, Hoshiyar smiled and said, ‘I have a feeling that once we figure this out, we will figure out the entire case.'

Ram Prasad Tiwari was born in Mathura and was the youngest of five sons. His father, who was the pujari of a local temple and a thorough disciplinarian, wanted his children to become priests, just like himself. While his siblings quietly toed the line, Ram Prasad rebelled, running away from home at the tender age of eighteen, and came to Mumbai to pursue his dreams of superstardom, which led him into the Hindi film industry. But soon, Tiwari realized that he didn't have the essential qualities to become a star, so he very wisely switched tracks and decided to try his hand at other aspects of Bollywood, to see where he could excel. It was along this journey that he met an aspiring young film-maker by the name of Nikhil Kapoor, who had just signed his first film as director and suggested that Tiwari come on board as secretary. That film, titled
Pyaar Kar Ke Dekho
, went on to become a superhit, firmly establishing Nikhil as Bollywood's newest whiz-kid and Tiwari as his influential right-hand man and best friend. In fact, it was during the making of this film that Nikhil and the movie's leading lady, Mallika, fell head over heels in love with each other and married almost immediately. Tiwari then became Mallika's secretary as well, increasing his clout in Bollywood by several notches. But in spite of his success, all his efforts to win over his estranged family came to naught, for they had disowned him completely, and since he was a workaholic, who had worked tirelessly for the careers of his two superstar clients for a full decade, he never found the time to get married and start a family of his own, which, in death, left him at the mercy of the city's municipality. With all this information under his belt, Hoshiyar turned his attention to Rohan, Nikhil's and Mallika's nineteen-year-old son, and decided to pay him a visit at his palatial home, taking Zagde along as well.

Pali Hill, the area where Rohan lived, was India's answer to Beverly Hills, for just as that famous Los Angeles address was home to some of the biggest names in Hollywood, its Mumbai counterpart was where some of the biggest names in Bollywood lived, past and present, making it not only the coolest place to hang out in, but also the best place for some serious celebrity spotting. For instance, if you were to begin at the top of that narrow, sloping road and proceed downhill, one of the first celebrity homes you will encounter is that of Neetu Singh and Rishi Kapoor, which is hard to miss, as giddy-headed college girls besiege its gates all day in large numbers just to get a glimpse of Bollywood superstar Ranbir Kapoor, who shuttles between that home belonging to his famous parents and the penthouse he lives in on Carter Road; and he is always courteous enough to give his adoring fans a smile and a wave as he drives past them in his bright red sports car. A short distance down the road from that place, tucked away in a leafy lane, is the home of yesteryear's superstar Dilip Kumar and his wife Saira Banu, and right next to it is the apartment building where Sanjay Dutt and his family live. On exiting that lane and coming on to the hill once more, you will see the penthouse of Emraan Hashmi and the bungalow of Imran Khan standing a short distance apart, and further down that path are the homes of Karan Johar, John Abraham and Aamir Khan. As you come to the end of Pali Hill, there is a road called Amjad Khan Chowk, named after Bollywood's greatest villain, who was also a resident of that neighbourhood. It is along that road that you will find two of the city's most popular celebrity hotspots—Olive Bar and Kitchen which has been a favourite with the Bollywood crowd, and Hakim's Aalim hairdressers, where Bollywood A-listers and international cricketers throng for that red-carpet-worthy haircut. But apart from the celebrities, Pali Hill is also home to a number of magnates, the odd judge, a couple of diplomats and politicians and a few low-key gentlemen, who have enough money to buy half the city without overdrawing on their account, but prefer to fly below the radar and go about unheard and unseen. In other words, Pali Hill is a narrow, sloping stretch of road, no more than a mile long, where you will find superstars and fast cars, PYTs in their LBDs, glitz, glamour and Krug champagne, and the odd person who comes in from nowhere, and in a very short span of time, lords it over everyone else, and there's nothing that anyone can do about it. One such person was film director Nikhil Kapoor. It was around five years ago that Nikhil, along with his wife Mallika and their adopted son Rohan, moved into that neighbourhood, by purchasing a sprawling hundred-year-old bungalow known as Billimoria House, which was perched right at the top of that hill, and was, without a doubt, the most coveted property along that famous stretch of road. Although Billimoria House had been deemed to be a heritage property, Nikhil somehow managed to convince the authorities to allow him to construct a seven-storey office building in its backyard, much to the chagrin of his powerful non-filmi neighbours who moved heaven and earth to stop that desecration, but in the end failed utterly as they found themselves out-thought and outplayed by someone they considered a new-money upstart with neither the class nor breeding to step into their fold.

This particular story of how one man brought the high-and-mighty Pali Hill to its knees went on to become such a famous legend that even Hoshiyar, who stayed clear of all gossip, was well familiar with it. As a matter of fact, this little incident told Hoshiyar that the late Nikhil Kapoor was a shrewd and calculating man, which made him feel that Rohan might be the same, for although the boy was adopted, having Nikhil's influence in his life day in and day out could have easily altered his personality, making him just like his foster father, which meant that if the nineteen-year-old did not want to reveal certain facts during questioning, it would be very difficult to get him to come clean. Consumed by these thoughts running through his mind, Hoshiyar looked away momentarily, then glanced at his watch. The time was twenty minutes past five in the evening. A short distance away loomed the century-old wrought-iron gates of Billimoria House, which seemed to announce to officers Hoshiyar and Zagde that they had reached their destination. As an alert security guard pushed open the gates to allow the officers' jeep inside, the first thing that Hoshiyar noticed about the property was that it seemed to be a place frozen in another time. The bungalow itself was more like a manor in both size and architecture that belonged less to the hustle and bustle of Mumbai city and more to the solitude of an English countryside. No doubt, there was a distinct colonial air to Billimoria House, Pali Hill's pride and joy since 1914, its old-world charm further enhanced by tall trees and dense foliage all around, not to mention a beautifully manicured lawn. But the feeling of being transported to another era quickly faded away, as Hoshiyar noticed that the trees he so admired were fitted with CCTV cameras that kept an unblinking eye on the property from every conceivable angle. Apart from this, the place had its fair share of bouncer-like bodyguards who appeared both alert and efficient, making it difficult to imagine that with such stringent security measures in place, any criminal foolish enough to break in could escape. But the one thing that struck Hoshiyar Khan as an eyesore was the building which Nikhil had constructed, right behind the grand old bungalow, for it was seven storeys of concrete, glass and steel, which in a cold, modern way severely compromised all that old-world charm and beauty. The newspapers had written a lot about that architectural monstrosity when it was newly made, describing its layout, along with everything it contained, in great detail. According to the tabloids, Nikhil was of the opinion that every big-time film-maker shouldn't merely have an office, but a one-of-a-kind space of his own, which shouldn't just be a place where he held meetings and discussed scripts, it should, in fact, be his private, sacred world, laced with a little bit of fantasy. Nikhil's building was designed and made based on such an outlook, in which the first two floors were his office space, while the next four housed a bowling alley, a fifty-seater preview theatre, a DVD collection of more than ten thousand films and a state-of-the-art personal gym, in that order. As far as the seventh floor was concerned, no one knew what it looked like, or had any idea of the creature comforts it contained, as that section of the building was Nikhil's private space, where no other soul was permitted to enter, not even Mallika and Rohan. In fact, so possessive and guarded was Nikhil about that place that even the housekeeping agency that was commissioned for the maintenance of his building was told to sign a confidentiality agreement, along with each and every one of its employees, which stated that they would not reveal what the seventh floor looked like to anybody, failing which they would face criminal charges, and only once they signed were they allowed to come up and clean this private sanctuary. But after the death of Nikhil, the seventh floor was no longer off limits and had become Rohan's favourite place on the entire property, where he would spend hours every day, all by himself, perhaps mourning the loss of his parents. Or maybe he just liked that space, because ever since that building was made, the seventh floor was akin to the forbidden fruit, which as long as Nikhil was alive, Rohan couldn't put to his mouth out of fear of a violent reprimand or maybe even disownment. But so drastically had the tide changed that when Zagde called Billimoria House to inform Rohan that Inspector Hoshiyar Khan of the Special Case Squad would like to come over and ask him a few routine questions regarding Ram Prasad Tiwari, who had passed away that morning, the boy asked them to drop by that evening a little after five and come over to the seventh floor, for that's where he ate, drank and slept these days. So Hoshiyar and Zagde did as they were asked, parking their jeep to one side of the building and taking the elevator to the seventh floor, accompanied by a few bodyguards, who for some reason, felt it necessary to be suspicious of a couple of uniformed officers, which was evident from the manner in which they were staring at them from top to bottom, causing a veil of red mist to slowly descend before Zagde's eyes, while Hoshiyar remained calm and unperturbed. However, before the matter could take an ugly turn, the elevator halted at the seventh floor and its doors opened straight into Nikhil's sanctum, which to the good inspector's astonishment was an enormous chocolate library, done up in delicious hues of moss green, deep rust and brown, with perfect light, humidity and temperature control, and just like in a real library, there was row upon row of tall wooden cabinets lined with shelves from top to bottom, which instead of books, were stacked with chocolates of every kind from all over the world. On the one hand, there were the more common brands like Lindt, Godiva and Hershey's, while on the other, there were names like La Maison du Chocolat, Jeff de Bruges, Galler, Guido Gobino and a whole lot more which the common man wouldn't have even heard of and neither could he pronounce, but each and every one of those names featured right at the top of every chocolate connoisseur's wish list. There were bars, bonbons, nibs, pralines, pastilles and even colourful candy swirls on a stick. There was milk chocolate and dark chocolate with varying degrees of cocoa, from 30 per cent to 89 per cent, meaning, that while some chocolates were sweet, others were bitter, and the ones that were dark and bitter were to be eaten with a sprinkling of coarse sea salt, maybe even with a dash of red chilli flakes. As Hoshiyar and Zagde finally found their way out of that confectionery maze, aided by the sound of cars racing at breakneck speed, then crashing into each other violently, they discovered that they had entered another room on that floor, which appeared to be the lounge, tastefully done up in shades of cream and gold. But the intended calm of that space had been torn apart by a skinny teenager, lying slumped on a sofa, in front of a 110-inch LED television, to which he had connected his X-Box 360 and was playing a game called Grand Theft Auto, which, as the name suggested, involved a whole lot of cars driving at breakneck speed and crashing into each other violently. In fact, so engrossed was the boy in what he was doing that he didn't even bother to look up and acknowledge the officers' presence, which infuriated the easily riled Zagde no end, but he decided to keep a lid on his temper out of fear that an angry outburst might compromise the investigation in some way. Hoshiyar, on the other hand, was secretly pleased with Rohan's indifference, for it gave him valuable time to observe the boy and get an idea of his nature, which would help Hoshiyar in questioning him more effectively. And from what he had seen thus far, it appeared that Rohan was just another spoilt rich kid, who was terribly fond of chocolates, judging from the empty candy wrappers strewn all around, and visibly obsessed with big-name brands, which was obvious from his white Armani tee, faded blue jeans from Abercrombie & Fitch, brand-new Gucci shoes and his Audemars Piguet royal-oak wristwatch, which made him seem like any other nineteen-year-old with superstar or celebrity parents. To put it differently, Rohan Kapoor came across as empty-headed and rather unexceptional.

‘Good evening, Rohan. I am Senior Inspector Hoshiyar Khan of the Special Case Squad and this is Sub-inspector Yashwant Zagde, my associate. We had telephoned you earlier in the day and you had asked us to come by in the evening,' Hoshiyar finally said.