“But you never really listen to me!” he protested.
“I don't?” Sonia was surprised that he'd noticed.
“No. I've been telling you that you need to create an
atmosphere.
Show clients how busy you are by delaying appointments, maybe give a few press interviews, and not seem so desperate for work!”
“If we don't grab cases as soon as they materialize, I may have to shut down this agency. And then you'd have to go home for good,” Sonia reminded him gently.
“I know, but . . .”
“Jatin . . . how many days' leave would you require?”
“One.”
“One day.
One day?
You mean you plan to eat
ladoos
and
chaklis,
burst crackers, meet your cousins and family all in one day? Haven't you heard of Labor Rights? Diwali lasts for five days and you're entitled to lots of leave and—”
“I prefer not to regard myself as a common laborer,” Jatin interrupted primly.
Sonia hid a smile. “Fine, which day?”
“Perhaps Monday—first day of Diwali, or even Tuesday.”
“All right. Take Monday off but I want to see you here at nine sharp on Tuesday.”
“And you won't solve any cases before I return, right?” he asked uncertainly.
“You can't expect me to stop functioning and keep everything on hold, just because you decide to take a day off, can you?” she asked incredulously. Really, Jatin was getting more out of hand with every passing day.
“But, Boss, it's
Diwali
! You can't work during the most celebrated festival of the year!”
“Who says I can't?” Sonia demanded. “Do you know what Diwali means to me? Not just cleaning of houses; cooking fatty, sweet, and spicy food; and bursting crackers to welcome health and wealth into our homes. I love the thought behind it, of course, but I'd prefer to implement what it represents. I like to remember that Diwali also means the triumph of good over evil. And so I'd like to clean my mind and help others clean theirs, so as to keep
everyone
healthy. I'd like the light of inspiration, love, and caring to shine in my heart. And I'd like to do my
karma
—my investigative work—so that good truly triumphs over evil. I'd also like to work to welcome wealth in the form of experiences which would make me a better human being. And, of course, I hope that money happens along the way.” She smiled.
“In that case,” Jatin remarked hastily, “I think I'll decide later which shall be my day off.”
“Suit yourself.” Sonia returned her attention to Nidhi, but she couldn't help chuckling. She would have to be a fool to ever really be angry with her assistant. He was as committed to investigation as his complex and absurd principles permitted him to be, and she suspected that he was going to completely drop the idea of taking leave!
He left but returned almost immediately. An entirely different Jatin, flushed and excited.
“Boss! A client!”
Sonia's instinctive reaction was to quickly place Nidhi aside. Then she deliberately slowed down. Jatin was right. She had to behave like an Investigator. A mature, experienced detective with active grey cells. Not a bumbling amateur out to impress. She could afford to take five minutes to straighten out her table, close the earlier “case,” allow herself time to relax before plunging into another case. The prerequisites of a professional. Jatin watched Sonia's deliberate, slow actions with appreciation. His boss was learning; he nodded in satisfaction.
Better late than never,
he thought as he left the room.
When Sonia was convinced that sufficient time had elapsed, she buzzed the intercom. Her pen and notebook were on standby. The door opened and a tall lady bustled in. Sonia opened her mouth for a formal greeting and stopped, astonished.
“Rita! What a pleasant surprise! I was expecting a client.”
“I
have
come to seek your investigative services,” Rita replied gravely.
Sonia's brow puckered. “What's the matter? You sound so serious.”
Rita seated herself. The troubled expression on her face was at odds with her usually cheerful personality.
“Sonia, do you remember Kamini, the woman I introduced you to some weeks ago?”
“Of course I do. Kamini Rane, Elegant Furnitures. What about her?”
“I've only just got back from Delhi, I'd been away for several days. So I thought I'd go and check on Kamini. But when I went to her house, I got the shock of my life!”
Sonia leaned forward, steeling herself to hear the worst.
“Kamini was in bed—but such a different Kamini, I almost didn't recognize her. Thin, with dark circles under her eyes, listless, disinterested, and
pregnant
! At first, I thought it was her pregnancy which was causing all the trouble. But I'm wrong. There's something else, but she wouldn't tell me. Sonia, if you saw her, you would realize that she's wasting away. Dying, slowly but surely. We've got to do something about it!” Rita had tears in her eyes.
“Of course we will. And I will go and meet with her. But first, brief me on all you know about her. You've known her for long, haven't you?” Sonia automatically buzzed the intercom and Jatin hastened in with a pen and paper in hand.
“Several years. I knew her before she got married. We went to the same post-graduate College. Her parents died in an air crash when she was in school and she's been raised entirely by her paternal uncle, Mr. Shirkay. He has managed Elegant Furnitures all his life. It was in college that Kamini met Ravi. He was the College hero—extreme good looks but a perfect gentleman. Intelligent, too. I remember we were all quite surprised that Ravi had chosen Kamini over all the beautiful girls. Kamini could never boast good looks and she was honest and unconcerned about it. She has a heart of gold, but who bothers about that? Ravi did, though. They would act in college plays and they paired very well. Won many competitions together. I guess all those rehearsals made them realize that they were made for each other. Anyway, they didn't get married immediately. Ravi took a job in Elegant Furnitures and slowly and steadily rose up the ladder, more due to his hard work than any pulls. When it was time, Mr. Shirkay was most happy to get his niece married to him and to hand over the reins of the business to Ravi and to his son Vivek. Mr. Shirkay now lives in their native village, in the Konkan area.”
“I see.” Sonia was thoughtful.
“The couple was quite happy but for one hitch. They couldn't have kids. They'd been married for five years and still there was no child. Until a few weeks ago, when Kamini discovered that she was pregnant. But considering that motherhood was the sole aim of her life, she hardly seems excited or happy.” Rita shook her head.
“Who else is in the family?”
“Shirkay's son, Vivek—the Astrologer I told you about. Vivek has always guided Kamini with his predictions. Apparently he'd predicted this pregnancy. He works in the company, too. They all live together. In fact, Ravi and Kamini live in the Shirkays' old bungalow.”
“Can we go over to her place right now?” Sonia asked.
Rita nodded. “Right away.”
“Do you know the name of her Doctor?”
“Dr. Panchwagh on Main Street.”
Jatin looked at his boss. “Any instructions for me?”
“Yes, I want you to visit Dr. Panchwagh. Try to find out all you can about Kamini's physical condition. If he raises any objections, just say that the questions are in Kamini's best interests.”
“Right, Boss.” Jatin readily stood up.
“May we leave now?” Sonia asked Rita.
The cheery, celebratory air was very much evident as Sonia drove the van to Prabhat Road. Colourful paper and plastic lanterns hung from houses and balconies. Crowds, attired in crisp new and kaleidoscopic clothes, strolled on the streets. The festive season had taken a grip on the city.
The sprawling stone bungalow on Prabhat Road bespoke wealth and antiquity. As did the well-maintained garden, which seemed more like a small park than a private retreat. But the absence of even a single Diwali lantern made the grandeur appear bleak and unattended.
They had just stepped out of the car, when a man strode out the door. He had an athletic body, fitted into a navy blue suit; a clean-shaven face; an aquiline nose which gave him just the right amount of arrogance. Jet-black eyes rested on the two women, registering surprise.
Rita made the introductions. “Hello, Ravi, meet Sonia, my friend. She's come to see Kamini.”
“Hello! I'm glad my wife has friends to divert her mind. She's in such a sorry state that it pains me to see her like this.” Ravi's cultured voice was tinged with sadness.
“She'll be all right, now that Sonia's here,” Rita said optimistically.
Ravi looked at them with so much grief in the depths of his eyes that Sonia was startled. This man knew something, she sensed. Did Ravi know what was troubling Kamini?
“What do the Doctors say?” she asked sincerely.
“That some great tension's eating away at her heart. Something so stressful, she's shrinking and sinking. And not only is it harmful to her but it's also harmful to our baby.” Ravi almost choked on the words. “Excuse me. . . .” He brushed an arm over his eyes and hastily stepped away.
Sonia felt sorry for him. It must be terrible to long for a child, then see both mother and child under the shadow of some grave, nameless threat.
They entered into a long hall and Rita led her to a door on the left. She knocked lightly and without waiting for response stepped inside. Rita's descriptions had warned Sonia of what she would find. But nothing had prepared her for the shock. Kamini lay in her bed. She was crying softly. Her eyes and nose were red, her complexion sallow, and she looked positively ill. Not an iota of her resembled the sweet, smiling Kamini whom Sonia had encountered on M.G.Road. What could have transpired to turn a normal, healthy woman into a nervous wreck?
“Kamini! Why're you crying?” Rita hastened to her, her voice raised in panic.
“What's wrong, Kamini?” Sonia asked, in a more controlled tone.
“N-Nothing!” the wretched woman sobbed.
Rita and Sonia exchanged concerned glances. Sonia sat down on the edge of Kamini's bed. She held Kamini's hand, allowing the woman time to recompose herself. Then she said in a gentle voice, “Do you know why I'm here, Kamini? Because I heard that you were under some tremendous pressure which was destroying you. Do you want to die? To kill yourself and your baby? Because that's exactly what will happen if you don't pull yourself together.”
Kamini looked taken aback. Her face went taut and white. “No . . .” she whispered. “I don't want to die but I
will
die. . . !”
“What do you mean?” Sonia asked sharply.
“I will die . . . soon. I know it. . . . I hear it every day. . . . They don't want me to know, but I can't help hearing every word they speak . . .” she lamented softly.
“Who's ‘they'? Kamini, please explain! Who's been telling you that you're going to die?”
“Ravi and Vivek. Vivek has predicted it and he's always right. . . .”
“Did they speak to you directly?”
“No, I overhear Ravi talking in the study, discussing me. He loves me so much that he keeps asking Vivek for a way out! Oh, I can't bear it! Why do I have to die when everything seemed to be so perfect?”
“Listen to me, Kamini. You're not going to die. I'm an Astrologer, too, and I know that you cannot predict death! No one can. You can predict a bad health patch, but that does not mean death! Are you listening to me? Stop sobbing and stop feeling sorry for yourself. This way you
will
kill yourself and you'll be responsible for killing the baby, too!” Sonia's scolding tone finally seeped through Kamini's weeping.
Her head jerked up, her face wet with tears. “What should I do?” she wailed.
“Forget about the prediction and start living, at once. There's nothing wrong with you, so get dressed and go out with Rita. It's Diwali time. Go out and buy yourself something really nice—for Ravi and the baby as well. Enjoy the beautiful Diwali atmosphere outside.”
“Yes, let's go. We'll have some lunch first and then go shopping,” Rita chipped in readily.
Kamini hesitated. “I'll have to go upstairs to change . . .” she murmured.
“Why? Isn't this your room?” Sonia asked, puzzled.
“No, Ravi asked me to move downstairs, so that he could keep an eye on me. This way, when he's in the study I can call out to him if I need him. He's so very loving and caring, I don't know what I would've done without him.”
Rita put an arm around her and the two women made their way slowly out of the room. Sonia stared at Kamini's receding back in thoughtful silence. Her instincts were suddenly very finely tuned to the situation. Something was very wrong here. She'd got the same impression when she'd met Ravi in the garden. All was not well in this elegant home of the Ranes.
She stepped out of the sickroom and glanced around. A door immediately on the right attracted her attention. This must be the study. She tried the handle and the polished wooden door swung open into a paneled study-cum-library. Sonia stepped in, shutting the door behind her. A large table with a glass top occupied maximum space in the center of the room. Windows lined one side of the room and the other walls were paneled wood. Sonia strode casually to the table. A phone, an appointment calendar diary, some papers, pen-stand, a laptop, some law books. She flipped the pages of the appointment calendar. There weren't many appointments, so she assumed that this wasn't an official diary. Her hand riffled aimlessly through the pages and then slowed. A name seemed to leap regularly off the pages, at repeated intervals, in the beginning of the year.
Meena Sajane.
The time also seemed to vary. However, she observed that the entries got fewer. In the last month there had been only one. Sonia raised her head, her mind a warren of sudden ideas.