Chapter 2: Amenta
Amenta: This symbol represents the Underworld or Land of the Dead. Originally it meant the horizon of the sun set. Later, it became the symbol of the west bank of the Nile, where the sun set and also where the Egyptians traditionally buried their dead. Also a metaphor for secrets.
Arnav unbuttoned his cuffs and precisely rolled his sleeves up, folding them as sharply as edges of origamis can ever hope to be, as he walked towards the morgue. He had already dispensed with the tie (rolled up in the pocket of his jacket) and the Jacket itself hung precariously in his office - somewhere. Arnav wasn’t sure at the moment. He couldn’t really care less, either. Formals were never a very good Encounter ensemble, anyway. But it was what the Department expected a detective in his position to wear, and he was alright with it. However, he preferred his Levi’s and a simple plaid shirt to the whole Fussy Suit affair when he was interrogating a suspect. He reached his destination and wrinkled his nose momentarily before straightening his features and stepping in. Blank. The Raizada gift.
The morgue was a completely white Hall. Not the classy french white that his Grandmother’s parlour was every few months, but a greyish, soul sucking white that made you think of bleached bones and death. The hall itself was stinking of Formaldehyde with Long stretchers with Pale ghostly looking bodies of people lying still on them. Waiting for their turns to be cut open. To be studied. Autopsies. Arnav had nothing but respect for the process that helped net oodles of criminals but for for the process itself, he shuddered inwardly, Ah science! The walls were lined with grey-white stone work benches on which stood racks upon racks containing bottles of chemicals, in front of which at least a dozen interns and ME’s alike worked. The Bureau could only afford one Lab and thus the Morgue had been turned into a Lab-Morgue Mash-up with half the people calling it a Morgue and the others (mostly people who actually worked in there) calling it the Lab.
He stopped just inside the door and looked around. He wanted to wrap this case up quickly, it was already getting on his nerves and it had only been Eleven hours since it had been assigned to him. Of course, his irritation with the case was less related to the case and more concerned with him missing the Mysterious Emerald eyed Lady, barely. By a hairs’ breadth... again. Shaking his head in frustration, he narrowed his eyes. No time to think of Emerald-eyed beauties who had a convenient talent of disappearing into thin air right now- He just had to wrap this one up... and fast. Maybe then they could play coyote and roadrunner again. Arnav smiled at the image inwardly even as he strode towards his target. They needed to talk.
He spotted her working at the bench that was at the far end of the room, the body of his vic lying beside her, pale in her death, as she tapped something impatiently into her Laptop. Impassive to the dead woman beside her. Arnav admired her for it. He walked over to her trying to dodge every stretcher that came in his way. Trying not to stumble. Reminding himself that if he did, he would most likely end up sprawled on a dead body that had already been cut open and sewn shut for the day. Not a pleasant experience for anybody. “Hey Payal. What’s the 411 on the vic?” he called out as he dodged yet another Stretcher and stepped behind her, peering over her shoulder at the Laptop. She turned around and stepped aside, shrugging out of her lab coat very coolly, and looking up at him.
“Not Good.” she said, her lips set in a thin line. Payal Mathur just looked like a typical Middle Class Delhite Girl- Ivory-gold, petite and beautiful; that was just the outside though. But Payal Mathur herself was a different kettle of fish, altogether. She always wore a simple and no nonsense attire- A pair of practical trousers in dark colors and a button down shirt. Her hair- which seemed to him as Long, shiny and dark (he said seemed because he never made an assumption and Arnav had never seen her wear it down. It could just easily be products making it shiny, he reasoned)- was always tied up in a severe bun, although that bun kind of suited her. He wouldn’t say that he wasn’t curious to see what she looked like with her hair down but Arnav was man enough to admit that she was scary. The beautiful girl, younger than him scared him with her impassive, and often emotionless eyes- Of course, the emotionless eyes could easily be a product of the green rimmed specs she wore - often shielding her hazel eyes from the wall. Did she really feel anything though? Arnav often wondered. If not... he smiled, what better coroner than a sociopath? Plus, he reasoned, she was just too - smart to go for him. Any woman he recognizes what it’s inside him well, that’s friend material right there. Arnav didn’t date friends. He dated beautiful empty headed fluffs who take it philosophically once the relationship was over. Not beautiful, interesting, intelligent and a level headed woman who knew hundreds of ways of dissecting dead bodies. Or worse, rendering alive and kicking people dead. No. Thank you really but he would pass. Payal Mathur was... good and safe from Arnav Singh Raizada.
His brows furrowed as he glanced down at the vic’s body- spread eagled (At least as much as it could be spread) on the narrow stretcher. Payal scooped two rubber white gloves and pulled them on, before motioning him with one plastic clad finger to follow her. He moved behind her as she spread the woman’s legs even more and he sucked a sharp breath in. His job was such that he had to see things that he would much rather not- and this particular scene, he wished he never had to see again. But Payal Mathur bent forward and indicated a particular spot on the vic’s anatomy that Arnav wished he would never had had to see in his whole life. The scalpel like thing that Payal held in her hands gently separated the skin and Arnav narrowed his eyes, his eyes finally finding the spot which Payal wanted him to see. A grotesque purplish bruise had formed around the spot. Payal pointed it out. “See that?” she asked, and Arnav frowned. Yes, he did. He bent forward too now, all embarrassment and repulsion forgotten, the wheels in his mind churning at full speed. He could make out the small purple blots on the skin right above her parting, which were making up the bruise now. He nodded, mutely. And, then his eyes widened. Oh Fucking hell...
“She’s been...” he started, his voice incredulous.
“Injected with it, yes.” Payal finished for him. Her face grim, as her eyes glinted behind her glasses. “Through her Urethra.”
Khushi glanced down at the peaceful sleeping form of her friend and sighed. She’d thought he was long over this. But clearly, he wasn’t... not yet. Khushi could still feel the tight knot of Panic that had settled in her stomach when she had heard his quivering voice on the phone last night. And she had known... only one thing in the whole wide world could make her NK sound that frightened. His Past. The one thing that he had tried hard to bury all these years... the one thing that he tried to forget... the one thing that still haunted him.
Khushi had brought him home in her car, perimeter scaling forgotten. There were bigger priorities. He was hers. NK had been deathly silent throughout the drive to his apartment and when they had gotten there, he had seemed composed but when they were going towards the elevator, he had clutched at her hands like a small child would clutch his mother’s in a strange, fearful environment. Like a drowning man clinging to his last chance of living. They had gone up in silence to his airy, beautiful apartment which, usually gave Khushi a world of joy to be in. She had decorated it. He had given her free reign - carte blanche. Khushi had used it. Great use of the Singhaniya money and look at it, she thought warmly. It was a showplace - fit for NK’s usually flamboyant personality. Not today. Not this cowed, shadow of a man she was usually acquainted with. Usually she stood in his balcony, watching the street lights when she came over in the evenings. Not today, either. She looked at him, staring around blankly, blinking. Like he couldn’t recognize where he was. NK reached out towards her, a child again. Scared. She took him by the hand to his bedroom and made him lie down. She had poured cold water with two Halcions down his throat. The sleeping pills quickly did their job and when he had cuddled up to her, his arms going around her waist as he laid his head in her lap, the moisture in his eyes wetting her shirt, she had gently ran her fingers through his hair, patting him to sleep- as one would her own child.
Then he slept. The sleep of the dead. Khushi generally didn’t like it. The thought of it made her feel too vulnerable. Too exposed. Too raw. Portrayed for the world to see. But tonight she was grateful for it. He needed it. Tomorrow when he woke up, they would pretend it had never happened and then... they would do what they did best. She smiled, a quicksilver flash. They would go about netting NK his golden lady. He might have thought that she hadn’t noticed - she had. If her pal wanted it, he got it. They didn’t need the money anyway. She gently tried to pry his hands away from herself, shifting slightly to the side as she tried to make him comfortable on the bed. But sighed when his hold around her tightened- as he buried his face deeper into her stomach, mumbling something incoherently, a few of his leftover tears still sticking to his eyelashes, falling on his cheeks as his eyelashes fluttered. She ran her hand through his hair again, smiling down at him tenderly as the frown on his forehead smoothened at her very first touch. Poor Baby. She would have to stay with him tonight. There was no other option. And she sure as hell wasn’t leaving him alone in this vulnerable state.
She reached behind her and extracted her phone from under her. Buaji would have to sleep alone tonight. “Ji, helloo Buaji?” she rolled her eyes, smiling. “Yes, the owners want me to stay behind again. Apparently there had been a gaggle of burglaries recently and they don’t feel comfortable about leaving the house empty - but for their little old widowed amma,” she smiled. Got’cha there, didn’t I, you old softie? “Yes buaji, I’ll be safe. Yes... Yes. Of course I will eat! When have you seen me not eat?” She smiled again. Poor Buaji. If she only knew! “Yes yes... I’ll make sure that the poor old widowed amma has something to eat as well. They do have servants you know Buaji?” she winced as her aunt rallied on about human touch, love and responsibilities. Enough. She cut her off midstream, “Don’t you worry about anything at all. Love you,” she hung up, all the while running her fingers through NK’s hair, as one would for a child terrified, in throes of a nightmare. To soothe. To reassure. Had Khushi known what she had been doing, she would have stiffened and withdrawn her fingers immediately. Emotions. Sentimentality. She steered clear of them. A person in her line of work really had no use for them. In fact, they often got you killed. She always tried to remember that. So, as an unconscious activity, she kept at it. He slept better. She welcomed the sunrise sitting beside him on the bed, looking out of the window.
When he woke up, eyes blinking, yawning, she was sleeping with her head resting on the headboard, sitting up in an awkward position as she kept her hand running over his head, soothing his frazzled nerves. NK smiled. Thank God for Khushi. Thank God for Twins. he thought, as he silently sat up, catching her hand and pressing a silent kiss to her palm. He would have to do something for her- Show her his gratitude, Thank her in their own
way, without words. No, words would insult the relationship they had. He smiled. Breakfast.
Her favorite meal of the day. Although Khushi loved almost all meals equally. He chuckled as he looked at her. She was an old softie. Whatever she showed- however tough of an exterior she portrayed- he knew. He had seen his twin run in between trucks to save a small puppy, leave a 500 Rupee note in a poor old lady’s hand. He had seen her sacrifice her own life so that she could make sure her Buaji lived in peace. In Comfort. He smiled again, running his hand over her forehead. Breakfast it was.
He whistled the tune of ‘Billo Rani’ loudly humming and singing once in a while, as he banged the pots and pans around in the kitchen. NK loved the kitchen. He always had. People wouldn’t usually associate something like cooking with his Devil-May-Care attitude, his strong build and his clumsy looking hands. Cooking was something that would be associated with Men who were either soft hearted and very very ideal... or Gay. And NK was neither. He shrugged absentmindedly, shouting a few words of the song here and there as he flipped the Aloo Parantha over in the pan. Thank God for Khushi he thought. Never had he seen anyone eat with as much love and gusto as Khushi did. She sure knew how to appreciate the cook in him. He grinned. If he got the Golden lady tonight, he would treat her to an extra special Dinner- they always did that. Rituals. When they pulled off a heist together, they celebrated with one of his hand-cooked meals, along with a filmy song and a wild dance together. This was their way of enjoying life.
“Good Morning, Billo Rani!” he sang, as he flipped the Parantha on a plate and slapped another onto the pan, applying liberal amounts of ghee to it, with a spoon. He heard her grunt in irritation behind him and grinned. Khushi was never a Morning Person, and NK absolutely loved riling her up in the mornings.
She woke up, rubbing like the sands of time were all in her eyes. They were bloodshot, her hair, not what one would term as the fashionable bedhead and NK loved it when she flung a particularly earthy swear word at him, rubbing her temple. He grinned. Yes. Things were back to normal. “Oye! Billu! Up and at’em chotu! Up up up! The parathas are getting cold!” She threw him an evil look. One, that would have rendered him lifeless had she been the least bit mythical. “Stuff your parathas up where the sun don’t shine you idiotic son of a bitch. Let me sleep!” she ended the last word with a drawn out wail. Eyes watering with a lack of sleep. He smiled, tsking and clicking his tongue. “Such salty language for such a young lady, so early in the morning!” she didn’t look at him - stalking, nose in the air with injured pride towards the washroom while he laughed. Things were definitely back to normal.
He looked up at her as she stomped in and plopped down in the seat opposite him, staring down at the table, frowning. She had worn another one of those nipped at the waist plaid shirts she preferred - purple this time with a pair of grey-blue jeggings. Khushi had left her entire wardrobe in his apartment and he, for one was glad for it. Whatever made his pal happy, really. He could see her trying to keep her face straight, but smiling anyways. He grinned, gulped his Parantha down and pushed her plate piled high with 3 Paranthas and some dahi towards her. And she looked up, smiling at him- something only he and their Buaji was privy to. And then she tucked in. Almost inhaling the food, as she exclaimed and moaned over just how good it was. Khushi was always good for his Ego.
He smiled as he leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head. His eyes wandering away from her and gazing thoughtfully out the window. “So, Obviously there’s got to be a change of Plans, Eh?” he mused and felt her straighten up. Well fed and alert was how Khushi liked to dive into work- and right now, she was both. He looked back at her as she nodded her head, wiping her mouth on the Napkin and looking straight at him. “Well, we’ve got Plan B...” he said, shrugging but trailed off as her eyes blazed. So, clearly she was not letting him go alone into the Man’s Mansion and pinch the Golden Lady. He sighed. She did make sense, but he wanted the woman. And now, he was desperate. She leaned forward and he saw those wide Green orbs twinkle. Yes, Billu had a Plan. He grinned as a slow smile spread across her face.
“NK... you know their phone numbers don’t you?”
And a sharp, short laugh burst out of his chest. Oh, they were going to be having fun!
He looked around, unsmiling. He was the restless sort and checking alibis was, if he was honest with himself - something he found below himself. Why couldn’t Aman or Ranjan do it? I’ll tell you why, he thought grimly... there were far too many suspects and they were already off checking alibis, leaving him one lackey short. Pity. He checked his watch again, a vintage rose-gold rolex, looking out of place on a detective’s wrist but Arnav was a man with a love for fine things. He didn’t see why he shouldn’t have them - he might be a man who was a public servant but he was nobody’s martyr. He checked again, impatiently. He rolled up his sleeves of the grey Marc Jacobs shirt and rolled his eyes. Sliding on his aviators again.The waiter who was supposed to corroborate the man’s alibi was late and he had asked him to meet at the place of his work - the Parikrama Restaurant in the Kasturba Gandhi Marg at the Connaught Place. It was a revolving restaurant, and he sighed. Stepping in. Might as well catch up on his lunch while he was at it. Two birds with one stone, he smiled. Plus, the waiter’s story could be cross-checked as well. The suspect had named the Parikrama as the place he was in at the time of the victim’s death and, he smiled, had named the waiter as his witness. Alibis could be quite easily bought, Arnav knew. He hardly ever believed them himself until he had concrete proof. This was too neat for his liking. Therefore, he smelled a rat. Arnav smiled. Lunch and subtle grilling at the same time. Who knew he was this good? He sat down slowly on the table near the end of the dining room and raised a finger languidly. They would come for his order. Why shouldn’t they? A harried man rushed towards him and he placed his order for Buttered Garlic Naan, Tangri Kebab Noorani, Raita and a Thandai and watched the man run away. He was on the clock, sure but Arnav smiled - he was probably the only detective without an expense account. The state could probably spare him his time to eat and eat well. He hooked his ankles together and waited patiently. Noting that his alibi corroborating waiter had just come in. He signalled at him to come sit down. When he did, they started talking. He was talking a mile a minute, Arnav noted with a smile. Never a good thing for the suspect when the alibi folds under pressure like a cheap folding chair. He smiled, placing one hand on his cheek, leaning in and looked at the witness, like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. He never played bad cop until he really really had to. It never made sense to him. You get more flies with honey and intelligence than vinegar and brute force anyway. “Yes. Now can you repeat it all over again?”. He noted the young man was visibly sweating and smile inwardly. Gotcha!
Khushi entered the Restaurant her eyes swiftly checking out the exits and the corners. The best thing about some of these restaurants was that they were always busy, always in need of more workers and had no cameras at all. Tying her dupatta on her waist, she quickly made her way into the kitchens, donning on an Apron and smiling at the passing waitress, as she shouted “Sprite and Masala Dosa on Table 7!”at her. She nodded, Picked up a plate already piled with a Masala Dosa and some Sambar and chutney, added a Sprite bottle to the tray and walked off. She smiled at the balding old man sitting on Table 7 (she had checked the waiter table chart before she entered the kitchens) and served the Masala Dosa and the Cold Drink, as she surreptitiously glanced around the Restaurant. Aha! She smirked triumphantly as she spotted the Target sitting just behind the second Partition from the Entrance, and recalled table chart again. Table 19. Smiling down at the customer again, she picked the tray up and stalked back into the Kitchens. Whipping out a notepad and pencil from the front pocket of the Apron, she shouted “Veg. Grilled Sandwich for Table 20 and Faluda for Table 18!” This was gonna be a piece of cake... or maybe Faluda she grinned as a glass bowl full of it came skidding to a halt in front of her. She walked slowly, her eyes on the tray as she pretended to balance the contents of tray precariously, making her way towards the Target. He leaned forward a little and she saw his jacket hanging behind him on the back of the chair. Well well. Too cocky! she thought with a grin. She stepped beside him and one hand trailed away from the tray and against the Jacket. She wrinkled her nose, Synthetic fibre. Cheap Ogre.she thought as fingers dipped into the side pocket in half a second- a quick flash, dive and withdraw. Two slender fingers clinched a sleek phone- the new HTC 1V Model, she smiled- over the table or under it Mister? Ah well. The newer the model the easier it would be to slap on the device. NK had made sure of that. The phone was gone as soon as it came out. Dropped inside the pocket of her Apron. She walked towards table 20, swiftly putting out the plates and turning away. Then, she stumbled, gasping as she did so- and the nice man from Table 16 got up, his hand coming up to steady her. Two bronze hefty fingers slipping into the front pocket of her Apron and deftly removing the phone. She smiled at him and he smiled back. She walked back towards Table 18. Faluda! She kept the bowl in front of the snooty looking old lady and counted in her head. 3, 2 and 1- “I did not order for a Faluda, Young Lady!” She smiled awkwardly and nodded. “Sorry Ma’am. I’m new. I probably mixed up the Table numbers.” She grimaced and walked back, counting the tables awkwardly. “Ah! Table 16!” she exclaimed softly and her eyes twinkled as the man turned towards her, his fingers assembling the phone back together. She bent forward and placed the Faluda on the table as he slipped the phone back into her Apron. She looked at the Faluda and winked and he rolled his eyes.
Straightening up, she walked slowly back, her eyes scanning the crowd of tables buzzing with activity and talk as her fingers brushed against the Jacket again, the phone easily slipping back into the pocket it had originally been sitting in. She smirked as she walked back to the Kitchens to return the Apron and the Tray. Done! Piece of Faluda... something she would be having in another few minutes, she grinned. He would have transferred the Faluda to the tiffin by now. Just as she entered the Kitchens again, her hands going behind her to untie the Apron, a heavy tray full of Naan, Kebaabs, Raita and a glass of what looked like Thandai was thrust at her by a severe looking cook. “New? Take this to Table 28.” He snapped and stood staring at her, leaving her no option but to curse him under her breath and turn around, heading out again.
She walked towards Table 28 hurriedly, and almost banged the plates onto the table- not noticing in her hurry, a pair of Whiskey colored eyes widening as they stared at her. Transfixed.
Arnav looked up from the conversation with the visibly shaken waiter, just as the waitress approached him. More of that later. He smiled at the shaken waiter and signalled for him to join in on eating. His eyes lazily travelled up her long lean legs snugly encased in a pair of skin fitting Dark Blue Levi’s, and up her tiny looking waist which was half hidden by a large hideous looking Blue-Green Apron, almost hiding the white T-shirt she wore behind it, which was hugging her curves perfectly. He smirked, Maybe when he was off the clock, even as his eyes steadily travelled upwards and then- He froze. A Pair of Emerald-gold eyes were staring intently at his table as she arranged the plates hurriedly on it. Her skin looked even more radiant today, Her long hair held up by in a sleek shiny Ponytail on her back, her slightly turned-up nose scrunched a little as she put down the last of her tray’s contents, her eyes still impatient- as if she couldn’t wait to hurry away from him. And still he stared. Taking her in. She turned away and almost ran towards the kitchen, her small hands already untying the Apron behind her as she disappeared behind the Revolving doors and that’s when he snapped out of his Trance like state. Not Today. No. Not this time. He had to get to her This time. He got up, throwing a hurried glance at the waiter who stood up too. “Move one step from here and I’ll track your ass down before you know what hit you.” He growled and the man nodded, shakily. He grunted as he side stepped him and sprinted after her. This one wouldn’t vanish. He was too scared. He threw a look behind him and said, “Enjoy your lunch and don’t drink my thandaai!” leaving the waiter to blink in sheer confusion, after him. Arnav ran.
He skid into the Kitchen, much to the astonishment of the cooks working in there, only to see the Employee’s Exit doors closing behind a flash of Blue and White. Swearing under his breath he dashed after her and out the doors. He squinted as the blazing sunlight hit him full in the face and he felt blinded for a moment. He turned to his right and saw her, glaring from one end of the street to the other. What was she searching for? But just as he reached behind her, his hand moving forward to clutch at her shoulder, he heard a loud voice call out from somewhere across the street- and on instinct, he froze momentarily.
“Oye Billu Ranii!”
Apparently, it was a cue. because just as he recovered and move another step forward, she was gone. Gone, in a whirl of Black silky hair, Blue Jeans and white T-shirt. And he swore again. His Dadi would wash his mouth out with bubble bath and Shampoo together with coal tar if she’d heard him say the word- but the event warranted it. She had slipped through his fingers. Again. He shook his head turning and making his way back into the Restaurant.
However, this time, she had left behind a hint. A clue to the Mystery that was his Emerald Eyed Beauty. Billu Ranii. He smiled... Arnav went back to the restaurant, whistling, with a tune in his head that had nothing to do with work. Billu Rani.
2 comments
Wow NK & khushi are something. I don't know what they plan to do but what they did was cool.
ReplyDeleteArnav again couldn't catch billu rani. Haa haa
Poor Arnav still can't get to Khushi. Guess he will have to be more patient. This Khushi is not going to fall in his arms hahaa.......
ReplyDeleteGreat update!!