The Nidhi Kapoor Story (24 page)

They were now headed back to Mumbai. Naveen said, “For me it was the same nightmare all over again. However, Nidhi was younger than Neelima and she recovered fast. She was almost normal when Nishant had his accident. That accident changed our lives yet again. I don’t believe the number of twists that fate has played in our lives. But then, this time since Nishant got paralyzed and was sent away, Nidhi had to start acting because Payal was not up to
it. With time, things became normal. We were so happy after all these years. Till Cho, Caesar and Cookie were killed few days back.”

Rujuta did not know how to react. Naveen had told her a very fascinating story, straight out of a book. She concluded that whoever was doing this had to be closely related to Nishant Kapoor. And since Nishant had a very few acquaintances left, it wouldn’t be too difficult to close the case. She would have to revisit everything all over again. She’d have to dig deeper into Preeti’s life, investigate Neelima’s death and finally check for Nidhi’s depression. She suddenly missed Prakash and his analytical brain.

“I have just one more question,” she said. “Two, actually. One, what happened to Preeti? And two, who could have those tapes of Neelima
Ji
and Nidhi?”

“I don’t know what happened to Preeti. All I know is that she came to Ronak one evening, got into this big-ass argument with Neelima and never came back after that. I don’t care for her, to be honest. If she’s gone, good. If she’s dead, even better. If she is suffering, it’s the best that I could ask for. The tapes, I don’t know. I think Nishant must have recorded those himself because there was no one else who could get into Ronak without getting screened by security or Basheer, Nishant’s bodyguard.”

“I will have to do something about Preeti,” Rujuta said. “I don’t understand how someone like her could disappear like that without trace. Who do you think we can talk to about her? She would have…”

Before Rujuta could complete her sentence, Naveen interrupted, “I remember something. I had forgotten about
it completely. Shit. So stupid of me. You know, a few days after that party when Nishant beat Neelima, they received photographs of Nishant and Preeti in compromising positions. When Neelima saw those, she had threatened to walk out of the marriage but I asked her to stay patient. I did not want the two girls to suffer.”

“What?” Rujuta exclaimed.

“Yeah. And you know what? I think Nishant shot the photographs himself and sent them to Neelima,” Naveen said tentatively.

“Why would he do that?” Rujuta frowned.

Naveen thought about it for some time and said, “Maybe he knew that Neelima would want to separate if she saw the photographs. And if Neelima asked for separation, he wouldn’t have to give her any alimony.”

Rujuta nodded and started to stare at the road ahead. She was trying to add these threads, these pieces to her jigsaw.

When Naveen saw that nothing was coming out from Rujuta, he signed out loud and dropped yet another bomb. “You know, the day after those pets were found dead, we had planned a small get together at Ronak because it was Nishant and Neelima’s 30th wedding anniversary.”

21. Day 15, Afternoon. Panchgani.

Rujuta was standing on the footboard of a fast Churchgate local. Unlike other women who opted for the comfort and safety of seats inside the compartment, Rujuta preferred standing on the footboard. While most women cowered with horror at the thought of wind and dust wrecking havoc with their hair, Rujuta loved the feeling.

The strong oncoming wind was trying to uproot Rujuta’s thick silky hair but the strong knot that she had tied her hair in, stayed put. Her loose t-shirt clung to her body, outlining her petite and yet shapely structure. She was holding on to the vertical iron handlebar in the middle of the open door. The harmonious music created by the moving train, the wind and other sounds of life around her made her feel alive.

Out of nowhere, Prakash appeared in the same compartment as Rujuta. The sight of his broad shoulders and taut muscles added to Rujuta’s excitement. She remained standing on the footboard and gave suggestive looks to Prakash.

Prakash came closer and held Rujuta at her love handles and leaned into her ears. He whispered something that made Rujuta laugh. When he started nibbling on her ears, she pushed him away. She did not realize that Prakash was not holding onto anything but her. The push was little too hard. Prakash stumbled awkwardly. He fumbled around, trying to find something to hold onto. And just then, the
train braked for no reason.

With a lurch, Prakash fell off the fast moving train. Rujuta screamed and lunged at him. She extended her hand to support him but he had already fallen off.

She saw Prakash bouncing off the rocky bed of the train track. His head hit a sharp rock and thick red blood started gushing out of the open wound. The train she was on mercilessly raced away from Prakash.

Rujuta had a decision to make. Without thinking much, she jumped off the moving train and landed on the track with a thud. She felt an acute pain run though her legs and spine. She released a loud scream. She knew she had hurt herself bad. But she had to save Prakash.

All of a sudden, the pain in her legs was replaced by a familiar, gentle touch on her arms and forehead. She heard someone calling her from a distance. It sounded like Prakash.

She opened her eyes slowly and found Prakash on the driver seat of a car and herself next to him. He had stopped the car at the side of the highway and was looking at Rujuta with concern. “Are you alright? Rujuta? What happened?” He was holding onto Rujuta’s hand and forehead. The AC was running full blast and yet Rujuta was sweating profusely. Prakash wiped the sweat off her forehead with his handkerchief. “What is it Rujuta? You are scaring me,” he said.

Rujuta took a minute to gather her thoughts and get her breathing back to normal. Her thoughts and reality had jumbled up and she was in a lucid dream. She remembered that they had decided to take a break and go to Panchgani
for a couple of days. Along the way, they had planned to see the Khandala home of the Kapoors where apparently Neelima Kapoor had died. They chose Panchgani because it was Prakash’s favorite place. Every time he could escape from Mumbai, he would go there. It was not very far from Mumbai; he could reach there in less than six hours. And it was not very close for builders and land sharks. Panchgani thus, still remained unspoiled by modernity.

Rujuta on the other hand, had never been to Panchgani. They had been hard at work on the Nidhi Kapoor case for the past few days and a drive to Panchgani sounded like a much-needed break. They also decided to visit Moksha, the ashram where Nishant Kapoor had lived before he moved back to Ronak. Rujuta had already received a letter signed by Nidhi Kapoor so that they could go through the personal effects of Nishant while they were there.

Prakash helped Rujuta get out of the car. She immediately hugged him. When Prakash saw the passengers of other vehicles sneering at them, he tried to break the embrace. But Rujuta refused to let Prakash go. She wanted to double-check that Prakash was with her for real. She clung to Prakash like a haunted woman. When Prakash asked her, she merely whispered, “Just a bad dream. Nothing. Forget i t .”

“OK. Dreams aren’t meant to come true. Don’t worry, OK? Let me light you a cigarette.”

“Yes please. I can do with a Stikk right now.”

They had just exited the third tunnel on the Mumbai-Pune expressway, still a few hours away from Panchgani. Prakash lit a Stikk, inhaled deeply at it and passed it to
Rujuta. Like most other smokers in India, Stikk was their favorite brand. It had the right amount of tobacco, a dash of clove, sprinkles of saffron and other flavoring agents. Within just a couple of years of its launch, it had taken the smoking population by storm.

Rujuta clung at the cigarette greedily and took deep puffs. Although she was distraught, she still cut an attractive figure. Prakash thought if it were legal to advertise cigarettes in India, Rujuta would make a picture perfect model. The stick of tobacco dangling in thin slender fingers, head titled backward, an independent, strong-willed woman on an open highway.

After the brief break when Rujuta finally found her composure, she softly said, “Do not ever leave me Prakash. I will kill you if you do so.”

“How do you know I was thinking of settling down with a simple Maharashtrian woman that Tambe wants to patch me up with?” he said playfully.

“Go ahead, but be alert at all times. I’d hunt down and kill you.”

“But Rujuta, I don’t want to die this soon. In fact, ever since I’ve met you, I’ve wanted to live. Live for long. With you. Plus, you know what I want to do when I am retired?”

Rujuta had known Prakash for some time now. She realized that he was pampering her and was trying to cheer her up. She liked when Prakash did that because it took a considerable effort for him to do so. When he did that, he had the innocence of a five-year-old. “What?” she fussed.

“I want to be a farmer on some hill. Maybe Panchgani. I’d get some land and we’d grow some strawberries. And
when it’s not the strawberry season, we’d drive around.”

Rujuta smiled. “Deal. Let’s fix a date. How about 1st of January, 2024? You have ten more years to make all the money you want to before we retire to Panchgani.”

Prakash raised his hand and looked into Rujuta’s eyes. “Deal.”

Rujuta grabbed Prakash’s hand and pulled herself close to him. She kissed him deeply on his lips and murmured, “Deal baby.”

∗∗∗

Back on the road, Prakash was humming along with music. It was playing a collection of best songs by Pancham. The CD wafted tunes from the movie
Aandhi
. It was
Tere Bina Zindagi Sey
by Lata and Kishore. Rujuta complained that it was a sad song. Prakash started applying brakes to the car and said, “You are welcome to find your own ride if you don’t like RD.”

Rujuta was surprised. She started playing with her eyebrows. “Really? You’d leave your girlfriend alone on a highway?”

“If she does not like RD Burman, she is disqualified from being my girlfriend,” Prakash replied. Both of them broke into laughter.

RD’s hits continued to play in the background. Prakash continued to sing along and his finger continued to drum the steering wheel. Every time he’d find the beat, he would smile triumphantly at Rujuta and every time he’d miss the beat, he would eye Rujuta from the corner of his eyes and
try harder to catch the beat. Prakash was soon lost in the game. Rujuta continued to smile at Prakash and was back in deep thought over the Nidhi Kapoor mystery.

As the car raced down the highway, they soon settled in companionable silence. The kind that every couple craves to get into and a handful manage to achieve.

Once they turned right towards Panchgani from Surur, Rujuta could see the access roads to the mountains. They crossed the town of Wai and started the ascent to Panchgani. “We are almost there. It wouldn’t take us long now,” Prakash said.

Rujuta interrupted Prakash. “Tell me something. We found a typed letter in Nidhi’s vanity van. The murderer claimed that he came in and he found Payal instead of Nidhi and that’s why he had to kill her.”

Prakash nodded. He did not know where Rujuta was headed.

“But Prakash, the fucking vanity van did not have a typewriter in it! The murderer would have typed that letter well in advance. Unless you are telling me that he had typed a letter for each possible scenario.”

Prakash was dumbfounded. It was so obvious that he had failed to see it. “Yeah! How could I miss it? Not bad, Rujuta. Let me call Tambe and ask him to get Ashok and others look at all the evidence in more detail. Plus, you, you need to give a career in criminal investigation a serious thought. We could surely do with smart people like you in the force.”

Prakash was glad that his subordinate, a junior, had discovered the vital clue that could help them solve the case.
He was unlike other officers who would be insecure about a lower ranked staffer getting the better of them.

∗∗∗

They were driving Rujuta’s Hyundai i20. It was amongst the best and most selling cars in the compact sedan category. Rujuta said that she found the blue interiors sexy. Prakash was indifferent to colors and hues; he wanted to take Tambe and the Police jeep along. Rujuta had flatly refused to travel the long distance in an uncomfortable jeep, accompanied by the bad humor of Tambe. Prakash stopped the car next to a cliff; they had been driving continuously for over three hours now.

While Prakash flexed his joints, Rujuta lit a Stikk and stared into nothingness, overlooking the cliff. Birds were flying effortlessly in this nothingness. They looked like specks. Just below the horizon she could see tiny serpentine roads where vehicles were crawling like ants. Rujuta loved staring down from such heights. When she was at a height and everything was reduced to a smaller scale, she felt powerful like an Egyptian Queen. She felt that she could control the lives and shapes of her tiny, insignificant subjects. She felt she could reach out and re-draw the roads and play with toy cars and alter the course that they were taking.

She remembered that she’d done quite a few wild things in life. She suddenly wanted to add one more to that list. Make love on a cliff. She turned around naughtily to Prakash. He was now seated in car, belted up and ready to go. He was fiddling with his phone and was waiting for
Rujuta to come back.

Rujuta yelled, “Prakash! Step out of the car man. It’s absolutely gorgeous here. You are missing out on God’s most beautiful…”

Before Rujuta could finish what she was saying, she spotted a big black car take the bend in distance. The car was being driven too fast for these curvy roads. As the black blot grew larger, she realized that the car was hurling directly towards them. Even though they were parked on a comfortable bent that could house a truck if it had to, the car continued on its course, towards them. The car was now coming fast. She was appalled and dumbstruck at the audacity of the black SUV. She knew that she was staring at her impending death. Prakash, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to the danger and was still busy with his phone.