‘Trrring’ ‘Trrring’ ….
The phone kept ringing but no one answered it.
Inspector Shinde’s eyebrow went up a notch. It was unlike his wife Suhasini. Even from the deepest slumber, a telephone call would arouse her… and one from him? No way she would not take the call.
He had been tailing the suspect in a sensational murder case for a few days and had been forced to travel to Khandala last evening, as he was hot in pursuit of a new lead.
In between keeping an eye on the movements of his suspect, who was at the fancy Mountain Star hotel drinking away at the bar, and his car, he had the urge to speak to Suhasini. Just to let her know he was well. Questions bubbled up in his mind… What? Why? What if?…
And the lights of the car he had followed, turned on. The bright lights bathed the driveway with luminescence. Shinde pushed all thoughts to the back of his mind as he signalled his driver to follow. The high beam of the powerful car picked up the route to a luxurious bungalow at the edge of the mountain.
Maintaining a low profile, driving without lights, so that their presence was not revealed, Shinde soon stood at the door. He had already scouted the place. There were two more cars in the cavernous garage and a motorcycle. All spelled opulence. In the outhouse the driver was already on the way to dreamland. The caretaker lived by himself and was about to retire.
He rang the bell. No answer. He rang the bell again.
Shuffling feet and muttered curses could be heard on the other side. A disgruntled voice inquired, “Yes? What do you want so late at night?”
It continued, calling out loudly, “Ramu!”
“Good evening Sir, Inspector Shinde here. Your vehicle has been involved in a case of murder. May I speak to you?”
“What are you saying? There must be some mistake. Do come in.”
A light was switched on, as he led the way to a well decorated drawing room. The swanky sofas and the plush carpets reflected the status of the man who owned it.
Like a good host he said, “A drink for you officer?”
“No, thank you Mr Dalmia” he replied politely.
“If you can answer a few questions, I will be on my way Sir.”
“Yes, of course. Anything for the law.”
“Where were you on the night of 17th November?”
“Why I was in Mumbai, in my flat at Worli, having dinner with my lovely wife.”
“But your car was at Colaba, and the young woman who was murdered had stepped out of your car. We have evidence.”
“Inspector I have a few cars, which one are you talking about? By the way all of them were in their respective garages, as far as I know. Which car are you talking about and what evidence?”
“The car you were riding in right now- White Mercedes, number xxxx.”
“Impossible!” he said with annoyance rising.
“CCTV footage have shown the number and the woman.”
“Ha! Ha! Ha!”
“The lady had called a number repeatedly that day… they all went unanswered.”
“So?”
“Every evening there would be a call from that number for the past few days to her. And every evening she would be seen driven to The Taj.”
“I don’t see how its got anything to do with me,” said Mr Dalmia brusquely.
“The number is … a very exclusive number. And are you sure you did not know the murdered woman Starlet Kusum?”
“This is too much, Inspector!”
“I will just make a call to that number from this phone, we found on the dead woman.”
He dialled the number, which rang a few times but went unanswered.
He dialled again…
“Saab, aapka call,” said Ramu as he brought the blinking, vibrating phone from the bedroom, displaying the name Darling Kusum with a picture of the starlet.
Picture: Courtesy Image by Ray Reeths from Pixabay
