Club You to Death by Anuja Chauhan (books to improve english .TXT) 📕

‘Hain na?’ She beams back. ‘I’d look so good in uniform!’

Bhavani pushes aside the mental image that has sprung unbidden to his mind. ‘Madam, please, in your own words, who is Ajay Kumar arguing with this video?’

‘Oh, didn’t I tell you?’

She leans forward, beckoning him to lean forward too. Their heads meet over the Taj’s beautifully polished silver sugar pot.

‘Arya!’ she says in an appalled whisper. ‘Aryaman Aggarwal, my friend Roshni’s son. I don’t know what the fight was about, but it looks, doesn’t it, like they had some argument that night, and Arya killed Ajay Kumar, and buried him in the composting pit?’

As Bhavani drives to the airport, deep in thought, he gets an SMS alerting him to a flight delay of half an hour. On a sudden impulse, he directs his car towards the DTC.

A few people are browsing the Daily Needs when he walks in, but Ganga seems free. She sits very straight behind the counter, sari meticulously ironed, pleated and pinned, hair pulled back into its smooth plait with not a strand out of place. Bhavani wonders what Shalu would make of her and decides that she would declare her prim.

Her large eyes widen in her glowing brown face when she sees him.

‘Good morning,’ he says in a low conversational voice. ‘We wanted to pick up some apples. They look so fresh.’

She looks slightly confused. ‘Oh but aren’t you …’ She pauses, then continues haltingly, ‘I mean, you’re the police, aren’t you, sir?’

He nods. ‘We are ACP Bhavani Singh. You have met some people from our team.’

‘Yes.’ She hesitates. ‘Sir, you can only shop here with a DTC card. We can’t accept cash payments.’

‘Good.’ Bhavani beams genially, not at all put out. ‘We will save some money. And not have to lug apples all the way to Kolkata.’

‘You’re going to Kolkata just now?’ Her large eyes grow scared. ‘Why?’

Now what is there about Kolkata to scare this girl? Or is she scared about something else?

‘To meet your friend Bambi ji’s ex-fiancé’s family.’ He explains genially. ‘But before that we just wanted to chat with you – ask how you were.’

Ganga grows pale and seems to sway.

She says defensively, ‘I have already been questioned by your team—’

‘No, no, no.’ He shakes his head. ‘You misunderstand – we just wanted to apologize for how all this must have disrupted your life.’

Her chin rises. ‘I’m very well, thank you.’

‘And business?’

‘Is booming.’ Her sweet voice has a bitter edge. ‘Everybody wants to have a good look at the woman whose husband was murdered and buried in the kitchen garden by her jealous sixty-plus lover.’

Bhavani looks distressed. ‘We are so sorry.’

‘Not as sorry as me, I’m sure,’ she replies. ‘My parents live in a small town in east UP, and even they have seen pictures of my husband and me in the newspaper! I may not have great social standing and status like the people who are members of this club, but I do have a small circle of relatives and customers! What am I supposed to say to them?’

‘We’re so sorry,’ Bhavani repeats. ‘We didn’t realize …’

‘Why should you?’ she says bitterly. ‘I’m not a particularly important person, why should I be on your radar?’

‘The police exists to protect everybody, not just VIPs,’ Bhavani replies, genuinely stung by this remark. ‘Those journalists had no business printing your wedding photo. Especially when nothing has actually been proved yet! That the body is hundred per cent your husband, Ajay Kumar, we mean! Perhaps he will see the news in the paper and phone you?’

Ganga snorts. ‘Not a chance! If anything, he will stay in hiding if it means making me suffer!’ She throws up her hands as she speaks, hitting the lapis lazuli bowl full of white jasmine. It starts to spin, and she settles it, repeating, more calmly, ‘Not a chance.’

‘That is not very nice,’ Bhavani says decidedly, now leaning comfortably against the counter. ‘Waise, what kind of a person was he? We apologize for being so curious – but we have two daughters of our own, and we are interested to know why your parents married you to him if he was such a bad lot.’

She laughs bitterly. ‘Oh, Ajay Kumar knew how to put on a good act! He had a good job – assistant manager in a nice restaurant in Connaught Place – not a driver or a peon or something dead-end like that! And always smartly dressed. And spoke such good English. He impressed my family good and proper! It was only after I got to the city that I realized how jealous and suspicious he was … how violent, and moody. Bambi didi says he was a sociopath.’

‘Was he a big spender?’ Bhavani probes casually. ‘Generous with money and all?’

She shrugs. ‘Sometimes he was very generous, but sometimes he wasn’t. I couldn’t understand it. Maybe he had another wife, and he was spending on her too? Anything was possible with him, I don’t know!’

‘You depended on him for money?’

‘Initially I did. But then I got a job of my own – cleaning and cooking, a servant’s job – but I didn’t see any shame in it. I was happy doing that for a while and being independent and sending home money, but then—’ Her expressive face clouds over. ‘Then that soured as well.’ She looks up at him, her large, soft eyes kindling. ‘Is there something about me? Do I send out some signal? That it’s okay for men to prey on me?’

Bhavani Singh, busy staring down at his knobbly knuckles and radiating sympathy for all he’s worth, takes a moment to react to this direct question. And in that moment, Ganga looks beyond him, and her eyes widen as she sees somebody in the doorway.

‘Oh!’ she says softly.

Urvashi Khurana is standing in the doorway. There is something oddly menacing about her stance today.

‘What’s going on over here?’ she asks sharply, her eyes going from Ganga’s expressive face to Bhavani’s