Club You to Death by Anuja Chauhan (pdf e book reader .TXT) 📗

if you see a photograph of my girlfriend Malathi – she is fifty times better looking than these dried-up Delhi women—’

‘Yes, she’s top class,’ Thinsuk agrees, with perhaps too much fervour.

Thampi throws him a dirty look. ‘—then you would know that I would never do something like this!’

‘You’re just picking on him because he’s an outsider!’ Thinsuk says bitterly. ‘It happens to us all the time – you’re looking for somebody to pin it on and close the case quickly, so you’re zooming in on us! All north-Indians behave like this!’

‘Never!’ Pained, Bhavani Singh holds up a stubby, rebuking finger. ‘We never, ever niptao the case quickly. It is impossible to sleep well with a guilty conscience and the one thing that we love the most in the world is a good, sound sleep!’

‘Then check last night’s footage,’ Thampi mutters. ‘What use is that stupid camera, anyway? Why don’t you check the CCTV recordings and see for yourself!’

Bhavani leans in. ‘See what, Thampi? What are you so anxious for us to see?’

Thampi’s head comes up, his clear dark eyes full of a desperate earnestness. ‘See that I left ten minutes early last night! It was Malathi’s birthday and I wanted to be with her at midnight! So I cleaned up the place, stacked the plates on the bar, made Leo’s protein shake and put it in the empty fridge. And because Mukesh Khurana was still huffing and puffing on the treadmill, I requested him to lock up the place and drop the key off. He could have poisoned the shake – he must have poisoned the shake – everybody says his wife was sleeping with Leo, and he was furious because Leo blackened his eye in front of everybody only yesterday!’

5

Very, Very Over-Smart

‘It is murder, sir. Quite clearly. A case of poisoning.’

Bhavani is pacing the veranda in front of the DTC gym, hung with baskets of hot pink petunias at regular intervals. The scent from them is sweetly cloying.

‘Could the chap have taken it himself?’ the chief wants to know. ‘To enhance his performance? Don’t these weightlifter types do that all the time?’

‘It’s a party drug, sir. So that is nat very likely. Of course we will examine all possibilities.’

‘I’ll send you back-up right away,’ the chief says. ‘This is going to be a high-profile maamla, Bhavani.’

‘We know sir. An election was supposed to take place today. Gen. Mehra – woh surgical strikes waale – is standing for Club president. Against a lady who is rumoured to be having an affair with the murdered man, sir.’

‘Good grief. So, she’s a prime suspect then.’

‘Her husband seems to be the man behind it, sir. He was at the gym five hours before the incident. Locked the place up and had every opportunity to doctor the drink. The CCTV footage should clinch it quite conclusively.’

‘Good. Close it out fast. Have you got back-up?’

‘Yes sir. A full team has arrived – they’re combing the scene.’

‘Good,’ the chief repeats. ‘Stay on top of things, Bhavani. Don’t let ’em blow up.’

‘Sir!’

Bhavani hangs up and looks at Padam who is hovering nearby.

‘Yes, PK?’

‘They want to show you something they’ve found on the CCTV, sir.’

A few minutes later he is back in the smelly little ‘command centre’, peering down at the computer screen, one hand resting on the back of operator Ram Palat’s chair. An image is frozen on it, time code 11.45 p.m.

Young Ram Palat adjusts his baseball cap and explains the image animatedly.

‘Sir, I’ve watched all the footage from ten till the time the ladies walk in at five-forty-five. Mukesh Khurana is doing his workout while Thampi prepares the protein shake and puts it in the fridge, but Khurana never goes anywhere near the fridge.’

‘And then?’ Bhavani prompts him. ‘What’s exciting you so much, Master Ram Palat?’

‘Telling, sir!’ The young operator’s voice is alive with suppressed excitement as he presses play. ‘And then at exactly eleven-forty-five, a bunch of helium balloons floats up and covers the camera! Look!’

They watch till the balloons he has described rise to totally obscure the view of the gym. Ram Palat turns to gauge the impact of this news on Bhavani and is not disappointed. The old ACP’s eyes have started to gleam.

‘O real…ly?’ he muses slowly. ‘Aise hi? By magic?’

Ram Palat nods excitedly. ‘Exactly, sir!’

Bhavani rests his chunky buttock on the arm of Ram Palat’s chair.

‘Well done, mere sher. And then what happens? Do the security people spot the problem from this great command centre and rush in immediately to fix the problem?’

Padam Kumar clears his throat.

‘Nikamme hain, sir, sab ke sab – lazy fellows. I just spoke to the two who were on duty here last night. They stammered out ki it was a very cold night and a long walk to the gym across the lawn, so they thought it’s just balloons, let it be. And anyway, sir, at twelve-fifteen the balloons sort of scattered and floated away here and there on their own, and full visibility was restored.’

‘And in those thirty minutes of missing visuals, somebody walked in and set the stage to poison the man!’

‘Exactly, sir.’

Bhavani gives a small, vexed snort. ‘So much for the finest club in Delhi!’

‘Er … yes, sir.’ Ram Palat is looking decidedly abashed. ‘And after that, apart from those loose balloons floating here and there a little, nothing else moves in the gym till Leo walked in this morning at five sharp!’

Bhavani absorbs this, his face grim, then straightens up.

‘Let us go back to the crime scene.’

Crossing under the yellow tape cordoning off the gym a little later, he looks about the space, breathing heavily. The team inspecting the area eyes him warily, but continues with its tasks, dusting all surfaces and bagging the evidence.

‘Four bunches of helium balloons with long trailing ribbons, tied at waist height, to the grills of the four windows, in the four corners of the gym. On the ceiling, in one of these corners, is the security camera! Only the