Club You to Death by Anuja Chauhan (books to improve english .TXT) 📕
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- Author: Anuja Chauhan
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‘And where did you meet Gen. Mehra?’
‘At the Daily Needs store. His wife was very unwell so he used to do his shopping himself. She used to give him a list. He was always very confused about the items on his list, so I started helping him.’
‘Did he ever meet your husband?’
‘Did he ever meet your husband?’
‘Please answer the question. Did he ever meet your husband?’
‘Yes.’
‘We have here, a record of a police complaint made against your husband by Gen. Mehra, which states that your husband had beaten you, and when Gen. Mehra tried to stop him, he had assaulted Gen. Mehra too?’
‘That happened almost three years ago. Ajay suspected me of having an affair with a rich man and attacked me, and I phoned Gen. Mehra to say I was in fear of my life.’
‘Why phone Gen. Mehra? Why not phone your family – or Bambi didi, who had been so kind and got you a job?’
‘I don’t know. I must’ve thought … that the general would look scarier to Ajay than Bambi didi! He is a war hero after all!’
‘Yes he was. In fact, is it normal for such a senior, well-known, successful man to be on such close terms with a young woman from his provisions store?’
‘It felt extremely normal to me. If you knew the general well, you would never ask such a question!’
‘Ganga Kumar, are you having sexual relations with Gen. Mehra?’
‘I most certainly am not! He is like a father to me!’
‘Why did your husband, on the night before he disappeared, accuse you of having an affair with the general?’
‘Because he was a sick man, with a filthy, suspicious mind – just like yours!’
‘Why do you still continue to wear a mangalsutra?’
‘I wear it because my father paid for it – not my husband. My husband paid for nothing during the wedding. I wear it because it makes me look respectable and because it stops horny men from making passes at me!’
‘What about the rumour that it was given to you, in secret, not by Ajay Kumar at your wedding, but two years later, by Gen. Mehra?’
‘That is absolutely untrue!’
end of interview.
‘You’ve potted a big one this time, Bhavani!’
The chief’s voice is bluff and congratulatory.
Bhavani’s reply is glum. ‘We haven’t potted anything, sir. That article should never have been published. We still don’t know who leaked the information!’
The chief’s voice alters slightly. ‘Oh, agreed. That article definitely jumped the gun slightly – ha ha, jumped the gun, that’s funny.’
The smile Bhavani dredges to his lips in response to this sally is so constipatedly perfunctory that the chief purses
his lips.
‘Something worrying you, ACP? Care to explain why you’re suspicious of Inspector Padam Kumar’s prized discovery?’
Bhavani sighs gustily, his homely face deeply unhappy. He rakes his large square hands through his hair, making it look crazily rumpled and leans forward.
‘That gun feels … wrong, sir,’ he says earnestly. ‘Somehow, we feel like somebody is forcing our hand, and leading us up the garden path, first by the discovery of this gun, and then, by the quick publishing of this article.’
The chief sighs. ‘What feels wrong about the gun, Bhavani?’
‘Sir, even forensics admits, after we questioned them thoroughly—’
The chief pulls back. ‘Bhavani, you’ve been bullying them.’
‘—that it could be artificially aged, and hasn’t really spent three years at the bottom of a composting pit!’
‘Yes, but it could very well have been in there for three years too, right?’
A sheepish look settles on Bhavani’s features. ‘Yes, sir,’ he admits, sitting back.
‘So your pet theory is that somebody planted the gun on the crime scene after the corpse was discovered?’
‘Yes, sir!’ Bhavani sits forward eagerly. ‘It’s a highly porous location, sir! People walking up and down all day. Somebody is trying to scapegoat the general! We’re sure of it!’
The chief shakes his head. ‘I think you’re trying to complicate what seems to be quite a simple case. Or else you’re a fan of Gen. Mehra’s.’
‘No, sir.’
‘What d’you mean no sir, dammit!’
Bhavani looks slightly surprised. ‘We mean we’re not trying to complicate a simple case. And we’re not a fan of Gen. Mehra. Personally, we think the surgical strikes were highly exaggerated.’
‘Keep your voice down,’ the chief growls. ‘And tell me quickly – who do you suspect?’
Bhavani perks up.
‘We have some theories, sir. Guppie Ram said the person whom he helped that night accorded him ‘Love … and dosti – and equal-equal trust. Somehow, we can’t see Gen. Mehra doing that, he’s too full of himself, but in spite of all her wealth and elegance, we can see Urvashi Khurana pulling it off.’
‘What about that Aggarwal woman?’
Bhavani ponders. ‘She could do it too. Not as well as Urvashi Khurana, but she could.’
‘That’s weak, Bhavani. Very weak.’
The ACP doesn’t reply. Various bit and pieces of information and conversation are floating through his mind.
Wait for me. The A to your B
I’m a straightforward man – if I ever wanted to finish off a fellow, I would shoot him in the chest, while looking him in the eye!
There was an eye looking at me. Through the wall.
A much bigger rainwater-harvesting plant – she’s obsessed with it!
We think he may have been wearing some sort of costume jewellery – there’s the crushed remains of some sort of blue stone in the mud that came with him.
My son … has some … problems. And when your child has problems, you try to bribe the Gods, so that these problems will go aw—
‘Look Bhavani,’ the chief interrupts his musings. ‘I’m under a lot of pressure from the top on this. The lurid media coverage hasn’t helped. So please do something! Thoda zor lagao. Strain a little harder, and arrest somebody fast.’
Bhavani’s face grows stubborn. ‘We don’t believe in straining, sir,’ he says stolidly. ‘Straining gives you haemorrhoids not results.’
‘Oh really,’ the chief’s voice drips with sarcasm. ‘Well,
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