Jatin helped himself to
kofta
curry and puris, tucking in with a relish. The sound of the Television was a little too shrill for his taste, but his boss was working and her musical taste took precedence. Personally, he would have opted for a soft, romantic instrumental while he ate his lunch. This rock band screeching out harsh vocals on the MTV would certainly wreak havoc with his digestion, giving him a stomach upset. But he would bear that. It was up to him to see that his boss worked in the most conducive surroundings away from home!
Sonia sat on the bed, four horoscopes spread out on the mattress. Chirag, Jay, Nimisha, and K.Kusum. The raucous singing seemed to grate into her head, deep down, creating abrasive scratches on her thinking. She needed to rack her brains. Fast. And the hard rock helped, jogging her numb grey cells into attention. Chirag. Gemini on the ascendant in conjunction with Venus, Mercury, Uranus, and the Moon. A director of great class, a little theatrical and melodramatic in his treatment of films perhaps, but totally committed to Cinema, in his own unique way. His horoscope revealed a very talented man, willing to do anything for his goal. Mars aspecting inauspiciously on the seventh house indicated dramatic twists on the love scene. Would he be willing to do anything for love?
Jay's horoscope, she had already seen. She spent a thoughtful minute over it, then turned to Nimisha's. Complex, creative, and constructive. Certainly not destructive. But then there was that streak—that wild streak and that constant obsession with suicides. Finally Sonia lifted K.Kusum's horoscope and stared at it. Ascendant—Scorpio. A complicated plotting of the planets. Uranus in the eighth house indicated a possibility of poisoning. But what had it been last night that Sonia had almost discovered in this horoscope? Something that had been on the tip of her tongue?
Drumbeats had now joined the guitar lead, strings reacting melodiously to the fast-moving fingers of the guitarist, and suddenly Sonia's mind began vibrating. Her feet began tapping and her fingers drummed on the table. She closed her eyes, absorbing the music and opening her mind to the wave of revelation she sensed was coming. As the music reached its peak, Sonia's eyes widened. My God!
“He can't read”!
Jatin glanced at her flushed face, his hand freezing in mid-air. He recognized that look on his boss's face.
“Jatin, can you call up Sub-Inspector Pawar and ask him if there was a card on Kusum's basket? And if he can't bring it along, could he tell you what was written on it?”
“Right, Boss!” Jatin pushed his empty lunch plate aside and quickly washed his hands.
As he sped to follow instructions, Sonia lifted two horoscopes, gazing at them sadly. This whole business reminded her of the Carrom board game, where pocketing the wooden pieces was such an art. In an attempt to strike right, sometimes you flicked the striker so slow that the piece barely reached the pocket. And sometimes the timing and pressure of the flick on the striker was so perfect that the piece slid smoothly into the pocket. But very often, you flicked the striker so hard, the piece popped into the pocket and popped right out again, or the piece and the striker both fell into the pocket! Sonia sighed. That was exactly what had happened with this murder. Not only had the piece jumped right back, but the striker had been pocketed!
Jatin returned, with the Sub-Inspector in tow, looking puffed up and important. Sonia looked at them expectantly.
“Here's what you asked for,” Pawar said, and handed her a piece of paper. “I copied the words out for you, though why you need it beats me!”
Excitedly, Sonia read the words. “Thanks, this
is
just what I need. Have you any other news?”
“Yes, it was definitely cyanide that killed her. In the berries.”
“I know.” Sonia spoke in a resigned voice. Suddenly the glow of knowledge had left her face.
“You know?” Pawar asked.
“I'll explain in a minute. But will you excuse me a second? Jatin, can you come with me?”
“Of course!”
At the door, Sonia paused. “Sub-Inspector Pawar, can you do me a favor? Can you send a Constable to invite Jay, Nimisha, and Chirag here? I believe they are all sitting in the hotel lounge. I think we need to talk.”
To Pawar's great amazement, Sonia and her assistant hastened out of the room. Pawar stared uncomprehendingly at the open door. He momentarily wondered if he should leave, but then decided against it. Inspector Divekar had spoken highly about this girl, and something told him that he should hang on. Witness her investigating techniques with his own eyes. He gestured to the Constable standing outside and issued instructions. Minutes later, Nimisha, Jay, and Chirag trooped into the cottage.
“What's up? Do you have news?” Chirag asked the Sub-Inspector, who shrugged.
“I guess so,” Pawar said.
Silence ensued as they awaited Sonia's return. She arrived minutes later, followed by Jatin. The deep flush on her face betrayed her excited mood.
“Did you find it?” she asked Jatin.
“Yes, this card from Jay's fruit basket says,
‘To Jay, from Kusum.'
” Jatin handed her the card.
“And this one from Chirag's basket says,
‘To Chirag, from Kusum.'
” There was a glitter in Sonia's eyes, as she held up another gift card. “And this one from Nimisha's room says
‘Kusum'
and the card from Kusum's room says,
‘To Nimisha, from Kusum'
! It all seems as clear as rain now.”
The others stared in confusion at Sonia.
“What is clear as rain?” Jay asked, frowning.
“What does all this mean?” Pawar demanded.
“It means that K.Kusum was killed because of cyanide injected into the berries,” Sonia explained dryly.
The others gasped, but Sub-Inspector Pawar raised a plump hand. “We already know that.”
“Boss,” Jatin began patiently, “let's start at the beginning. Who killed K.Kusum?”
Sonia looked from one expectant face to another. Nimisha—anxious; Jay and Chirag—curious; Jatin—eager, as always, to know the truth. Pawar—a peculiar blend of annoyance and impatience. Worried that she had indeed got to the bottom of the matter before him.
“K.Kusum killed herself,” she announced.
“What!” Nimisha exclaimed. “Suicide?”
Sonia shook her head. “No. It wasn't suicide, Nimisha. I think it's time you braced yourself to hear the plain truth.”
The Sub-Inspector frowned. “What makes you so sure she killed herself?”
“Partly the horoscopes, partly logic, and partly her dying words—‘
He can't read.'
” Sonia passed him a brief smile. “It isn't difficult to surmise that it all began when Nimisha discovered that Kusum had an invalid sister, a woman who was far more talented than her. Also that each dance step of Kusum's which had led her to stardom was actually Geeta's, the sister's. Nimisha told Kusum about her discovery and demanded that justice be done. But Kusum refused. In Kusum's own words,
‘Upon my dead body!'
Right, Nimisha?”
Nimisha nodded. She seemed nervous and jittery. Jay stared at the actress, digesting this bit of news. Chirag's face looked grimmer than ever. Sonia concentrated on the actress.
“What Nimisha did not know was that in demanding justice for Geeta, she was actually imperiling her own life!”
Nimisha gasped. “What . . . what do you mean?”
“You threatened to expose Kusum, to make the world aware of her incapacities, to undo what Kusum had achieved in her life. It was a life-and-death matter for a woman hard-driven with ambition. She had no choice. It was your death and her life!
“She planned it all carefully, leaving it till the last day. Her goodbye gifts. Strawberries and raspberries. To all of you, including herself. When Nana, the old man, arrived with the baskets, she deliberately asked him to buy satin ribbons. Then she quickly injected small doses of cyanide into some of the raspberries in one basket and put in a card with Nimisha's name on it. When the old man returned with the ribbons, she asked him to put the ribbons as per the names on the cards and then deliver them. She made very sure that Nana understood what she said, even though he was slightly deaf. But what she hadn't bargained for was the fact that
he couldn't read
! Nana did not reveal to her that he was illiterate. He put a pink ribbon on Kusum's own personal basket and delivered it to Nimisha's room. But the basket with the poisonous fruits, which was actually meant for Nimisha, was left on Kusum's table, absolutely without her knowledge.”
“You mean . . .” Jatin began, comprehension dawning on his face.
“You got it. That basket was meant to kill Nimisha, not Kusum.”
Nimisha paled. “Oh my God!” she whispered.
“This is what I think happened. Kusum left us to fetch Geeta's horoscope from her cottage. Without the least doubt that all the baskets had been delivered as per her instructions, she casually popped one or two berries into her mouth. In a flash, it had hit her that something had gone terribly wrong. She may have flashed a look at the card on the basket before stumbling out of the cottage. She realized that she hadn't long to live. She died, her last thought being the shocking comprehension that the baskets got interchanged because Nana could not read. All along, I'd been wondering what she meant. And then it struck me that she said what was on her mind as her last dying thought! That
he can't read
!”
“Sounds fantastic, but not impossible. But an important question is, how did Kusum get hold of the cyanide? We need evidence, you know,” the Sub-Inspector said.
“And we shall have it. First, let's talk about the cards on the baskets. These are the words on the card found on Kusum's basket. They say,
‘To Nimisha, from Kusum.'
And Nimisha's basket, in her room, had a card with
‘Kusum'
written on it. When I first saw it, I found it a little odd that instead of saying,
‘From Kusum'
the card simply said,
‘Kusum.'
Of course, it did not strike me at that particular point that that basket was never meant to reach that room. If it hadn't been for Nana's blunder, Kusum would've been alive now and Nimisha would've been dead!”
Nimisha shivered, looking as if she were really being forced to taste some cyanide!
“Kusum designed and produced jewelry,” Sonia continued. “Cyanide is often used in that business. I'm positive that the small tin that you found in her handbag contains liquid cyanide, not talcum powder! I believe that a real thorough search of Kusum's cottage would reveal the crushed needle of the disposable syringe that injected the cyanide.”
Sub-Inspector Pawar rocked on his feet with his hands in his pant pockets, indecision written all over his face. Then, with sudden resolve, he nodded briefly and whisked his huge bulk out of the cottage.
“Boss, how did you guess?” Jatin asked. “That Kusum got caught in a web of her own making?”
“Her horoscope. Something about her configuration had been bothering me. Last night and all of today, the idea kept niggling at the back of my mind—that I ought to have noticed what it was. And finally I struck the right note. There were unique combinations in Kusum's horoscope. The Lord of the first house, Mars, was placed in the ninth house with Cancer—an unfriendly star or a debilitated star—afflicted by Saturn, which also aspected the third house—the house of siblings—very unfavourably. In short, Kusum would benefit from a very talented but ill sister. Moon and Neptune facing each other, Uranus in the house of death, Sun in the twelfth house in conjunction with Mercury, with another debilitating zodiac sign, Libra—all indicated that Kusum would be responsible for her own destruction. I'd discovered that
not only was Kusum a danger and threat to others, but she was also a potential death trap for herself.
“That made me look at the matter entirely differently. Nimisha's story very clearly revealed that between the two women, she made a better target for murder. Kusum had more reason to kill Nimisha than Nimisha or anyone else had to kill Kusum. Then why had Kusum ended up being the victim? Then it all suddenly unraveled like lightning. Kusum had died because her elaborate plan for murder had backfired.”
“But what if it had worked? Wouldn't Kusum have been the prime suspect?” Jay asked.
“I doubt it. Firstly, except for Nimisha, not a soul was aware of Geeta's existence, so the seed of the murder would have been buried forever. Besides, Kusum had sent the strawberries and raspberries to all of you, including herself. She could always claim that she had no idea how the cyanide reached the fruits. After all, the baskets were placed on the table near these wide-open windows. Anyone could have just hopped in and injected the poison. And not a soul would've noticed, since the rest of you were at the party on the other side of the lawn. And, at an appropriate time and place, Kusum would've disposed of the talcum powder tin and the syringe.”
A minute ticked by—a minute loaded with the churning thoughts of the people in the room. Then Chirag remarked slowly, “If it hadn't been for you, no one would've ever discovered that Kusum had, in reality, planned to kill Nimisha.”
Nimisha shivered again. “I can't believe it! That she could have gone to such great lengths, for such selfish reasons. Poor Geeta! I wonder what she will do now. No sister, no creative satisfaction, buried alive in some remote village.”
“It needn't be like that at all,” Sonia said quietly, and Nimisha looked at her in surprise.