The Turning - Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

While his Superior and subordinate were at the Shahane residence, Patil was cooling his heels in the musty, ill-furnished waiting area (it could hardly be dignified by the word 'reception') in the office of Messrs. Kabraji, Kabraji and Desai, Advocates, Solicitors and Notary. Awaiting the pleasure of the senior-most partner, Gustad Kabraji, who saw no reason why he should not make a Police Officer wait for his turn like any other client.

Kabraji had grudgingly given Patil an appointment for 10.30 am. After a decent wait of about fifteen minutes, Kabraji rang the bell and ordered the aged peon to send 'that Policeman' in. After all, he reasoned, the chap was a public servant and shouldn't squander his time (paid for by the public) waiting about in Solicitors' offices. He had the true lawyer's capacity for appreciating all sides of a truth!

Patil entered a Chamber which appeared even shabbier than the waiting area outside. The immediate impression was one of chaos. Files, briefs and books littered the floor and occupied almost every inch of a huge wooden table, behind which stood a dried-up, irascible looking little man of around sixty or so, wearing round bifocals and a harassed expression.

"Come in, come in, Inspector. What's your name?" he peered at the card in his hand. "Shocking business, this! Shocking! Sit down, sir, sit down. Zerxes dikra, push those papers off that chair and let the Inspector sit down. You two know each other, don't you?" He paused, looking inquiringly from Patil to Zerxes Avari, who had now risen in his leisurely fashion from a low couch half-hidden by the side of Kabraji's piled-up table.

Patil held out his hand to Zerxes saying dryly, "Yes, I know him. And of late I seem to keep bumping into him!"

Zerxes gave his slow, disarming grin. "Shall I efface myself, Inspector? Would you like to have a private talk with Mr. Kabraji?"

"Nonsense, nonsense! Of course you can stay, dikra," decreed Kabraji before Patil could respond to Zerxes' offer. "The Inspector can have nothing private to say to me. Nothing at all! Besides, you're as much connected with Dina and her family which," he frowned shrewdly at Patil through his spectacles, "is what I imagine the Inspector has come to see me about."

"You are quite right, Sir," said Patil smoothly, deciding it would be better not to rub the acerbic old man the wrong way. Besides, he was bound to take Avari into his confidence later on. It might be better, in fact, if Avari did stay on. "1 have no objection whatsoever to Mr. Avari's presence."

"You can't have any," the Solicitor told him simply. "1 won't have the damn Police dictating who should be in my office, and who should not. And now, sir, what can I do for you?"

"I am informed you have been acting as Mrs. Dina Sattar's Solicitor, Sir," began Patil.

"Then let me tell you sir, that you are misinformed," snapped the old lawyer. Observing with satisfaction the surprise in Patil's face, and the knowing amusement in Zerxes', he went on, "I've acted for Dina Sooneji, as her Solicitor. Never for Dina Sattar. You must be precise, Inspector! Precise! Only thing, in Law! Make messes otherwise," he ended severely.

Patillooked at Zerxes helplessly. He had the feeling that unless he took a firm grip of the situation straightaway, this crabby old Solicitor would reduce him to the status of an Articled Clerk.

A futile effort! Patil was no match for wily old Kabraji, who leavened his eccentricities by a puckish sense of humour and real goodness of heart. He was the remnant of a fast-vanishing breed.

"Well Sir, Dina Sooneji," allowed Patil. "Same lady."

His error was pointed out to him again. "No sir, not the same lady! I believe, as Dina Sattar, she had changed beyond recognition. But get on with it, my good man, get on with it," he urged somewhat unfairly. Poor Patil was indeed itching to 'get on with it'. "I don't have the whole morning to waste on Policemen asking me damn foolish questions."

Patil swallowed. And was badgered into coming straight to the point.

Asked if he had ever drawn up a Will for Dina Sattar, Kabraji frowned and muttered, "Of course not! Dina never gave any instructions about any Will. Don't think she ever made one. Never one to listen to advice, that girl." He shook his head slowly, probably thinking of the amount of sound advice given by him and rejected by the ungrateful Dina.

"Well Sir, you may not have drawn it up, but Mrs. Sattar did leave behind a Will," Patil spoke almost apologetically, as though he had been the culprit who had dared to make a Will without Gustad Kabraji's permission, advice and guidance.

"What's this?" rapped out Kabraji, glaring now at Zerxes. "Dina died leaving a Will? You never mentioned anything about that to me," he said accusingly.

"I was coming to that, Gustad, when the Inspector sent in his card. I realized what he had come to see you about and felt it would be better to let the Inspector himself broach the topic to you, without my preempting him," Zerxes murmured.

"Pre-empting be damned! Where's the bloody thing?" barked Kabraji.

Zerxes took out the document from a folder lying on the couch beside him and gave it to the irate Solicitor. Kabraji glanced through it with surprising speed and flung it onto his over-burdened table. It floated to the floor, near the Inspector's feet. He bent and picked it up, glancing through it himself before handing it back to Avari.

"Call that a Will?" snapped Kabraji, glaring at Zerxes. "Stuff and nonsense! That woman must have gone mad! Makes her own legatees attest the Will! Bequeaths the whole of her Estate away from her legal heirs! As though she could! After she had converted! Bah!" He pushed his glasses, which had been sliding down, further up his nose and fumed on: "This is what happens when people decide that they know better than their lawyers! Decide to take things into their own hands! Make a mess of everything!" he snorted.

Patil, who had been listening interestedly to all this, asked, "Are you suggesting that most of the bequests are invalid, Sir?"

"Opining, not suggesting," Kabraji corrected him. "Anyone with a modicum of legal knowledge could see that they are invalid. And you're no fool Inspector, hey?" He suddenly changed his tone.

"Nor am I a Solicitor, Sir!" was the deprecating reply. "I'd be glad if you would explain just which part of the Will is invalid."

"Bequests to witnesses, null and void. Bequest of more than one-third of her Estate to her niece, who is a stranger, invalid," reeled off the lawyer.

"Pardon me, Sir," interrupted Patil, knitting his brows. "Why is her niece a stranger? And why is the bequest to her invalid?"

"The niece isn't a Muslim," was the grim reply. "So she's a stranger' in that sense. She's not an heir. Under the Muslim law, Inspector, the testator cannot bequeath more than one-third of the Estate away from the heirs as per Muslim Law, without their consent. As I understand the circumstances in this case, Dina's sole legal heir under the Muslim Law would be her Muslim husband. That Sattar fellow."

"Would Mr. Sattar inherit the entire Estate of his second wife, in the circumstances?" asked Patil.

"No no, of course not! Didn't you hear what I said?" frowned Kabraji irritably. "The bequests to the maid and to Banoo Kanga being void, would revert to the Estate. Scherezade presumably would inherit one-third of the Estate. Especially if Sattar doesn't contest that. The law is none too clear about a non-Muslim inheriting from a Muslim under a Will. Then Sattar would inherit the balance two-thirds."

Patil looked at Zerxes. "Was Sattar aware of his wife's Will?"

"Not before her death, I think," answered Zerxes, looking at the Inspector through slitted green eyes. "But yes, after her death he was aware that she had died leaving a Will, and that she had Willed her body to a teaching hospital for medical research. I don't think he was aware of the disposition of her Estate."

"So, before her death he was not aware that she had Willed away her body for medical research?" queried Patil.

"No. He was definitely surprised on finding that she had left a Will at all. And that he came to know after her death, and after the body had been sent to JJ Hospital," supplied Zerxes.

"Thank you very much, Gentlemen," said Patil. To Kabraji he added courteously, "I won't take up any more of your time Sir. Thank you for your cooperation."

"You are welcome, Inspector, you are welcome." said Kabraji cordially, rather to Patil's surprise. "An interesting change, I can't deny, from drawing up Wills and advising people on their marital problems."

Patil took his leave. Zerxes followed shortly and fell into step beside him.

"So, are you off to the Shahanes', Inspector?" asked Zerxes conversationally.

"To the Shahanes'?" echoed Patil. "Why? What's wrong?" he asked sharply, noting the look on Zerxes' face.

Zerxes told him.

"No I didn't know anything about that," said Patil sounding quite shocked. "I had left my house very early in the morning. I had some other business elsewhere, before my appointment with Kabraji. They wouldn't have been able to contact me from the Station. How did you come to know, Mr. Avari?"

Zerxes told him. Patillooked thoughtful. From a public call office, Patil called up the Cuffe Parade Police Station. His colleagues had returned. He was asked to go there directly.
Patil hesitantly requested A vari to come along too, if he could spare the time. DCP Tagore was also there.

"I think this business about the Will needs to be clarified," Patil said. "And you're definitely better equipped to do so than I am."

Zerxes agreed to accompany Patil without any demur. He had decided to let his legal practice take a back seat for some time, till this tangle was sorted out. The only problem was, thought Zerxes to himself moodily, that the case seemed to be getting more and more messy!

Was Nivedita's death suicide, or murder? The PM report should be out soon. He must have a talk with his father after that! Evidently, Tagore had got the old man interested. And involved. He glanced at his watch. Just around 11.40. Scherezade would be at work by now. She had insisted on resuming. And he had not really opposed, knowing that it would be better if she got back to her work. Gave her imaginative mind less time to brood! He'd call her up from the Station and pick her up for lunch.

At the Station, Patil reported his conversation with Kabraji, explaining why he had requested Zerxes to accompany him. Adding slyly that in this particular case, he hoped Mr. Avari would cooperate with the police instead of putting spokes in their way!

"Ah!" Tagore gave an exaggerated sigh. "That'll depend on whom we suspect, my dear Patil." Turning to Zerxes, he then asked seriously, "So to whom exactly does Dina Sattar's Estate go?"
"As Kabraji has opined, one-third of it could still be inherited by Scherezade, especially if Sattar does not contest that. The rest goes to Sattar himself."

"The Commander's been able to discover the name of the lady with whom Sattar was. . . er putting up at the Hotel Blue Diamond in Poona, Sir. Sonali Roy. Seems he's quite seriously involved with her! Been carrying on for quite some time. A youngish, rather attractive widow. She's a Doctor, and so's her son, Abhijeet. Abhijeet apparently works in the same hospital as Vinod Shahane and the two are quite friendly," Irani reported.

Tagore said quietly, "Then you'd better check up on the lady, Inspector. We must get her to confirm this. And inquire from her why Sattar delayed for so long in setting out for Bombay, after being informed that his wife was seriously ill."

"That gives the husband the motive all right," mused Patil.

Zerxes smiled. Noticing the smile, Irani asked shrewdly, "You don't agree with Inspector Patil, Mr. Avari?"

"Oh, he had a motive all right," answered Zerxes. "But motive enough for murder? A man in his circumstances? We must not forget the circumstances, Inspector. Sattar had not yet exhausted his quota of four wives. What do you think, Sushil?"

"I think I agree with you," replied Tagore. "Also, if it were Sattar who killed his wife, would he have been foolish enough to put the poison in the perfume he had himself presented to his wife, thereby nullifying the alibi created (if it was meant to be one), of being out of town when she died? He could have put the poison in a myriad other media.

"But he does remain a prime suspect, all the same. When it comes to murder, human beings are just as incalculable, as in anything else. And if the girl's death turns out to be murder, then probably he's our man. He was present in that house when she died. Probably he alone is the common factor in both the cases. In the meanwhile, let's keep our options open as far as the Dina Sattar case is concerned."

"I agree," said Irani. "What we are looking for," he went on, now addressing Patil and Rodricks rather than the others, "is someone who had a motive and the opportunity to slip the poison into the bottle of perfume as being the most convenient medium. So let's get cracking on that, boyos." he ordered crisply. "Till we get the PM report on Nivedita Shahane, we'll concentrate on the Sattar case, disregarding the second death."

"That makes sense," approved Tagore. "Nivedita's murder, if it turned out to be such, would be for one reason alone. That she knew something about Dina's murder. And the field of suspects would be far narrower. Very few people had the opportunity." Abruptly, he asked, "Has anything more been learnt about the mystery man who visited Dlna Sattar the night before she died?"

Zerxes raised a brow. "What's this?" he inquired.

"Dina was visited by somebody the night before she died?" "That's what the watchman on duty that night testified to. That a strange man had demanded to be allowed to visit Dina, claiming she had called him to check out her Television set. He was apparently some TV mechanic, or something, wasn't he, Patil?" "Yes Sir", replied Patil, adding, "and the watchman says Mrs. Sattar confirmed this, when she was contacted over the security intercom. Apparently, she was alone when he went up. Sattar had left for Poona, and even her maid had gone out for quite a while!

"Sounds promising," Tagore drawled. "You must have no doubt got the description from the watchman. Has his identity been established, as yet?"

"Not yet, Sir," answered Irani, a shade defensively. "The watchman's description is too vague and general. Could fit just about anyone who is short and slightly stocky, with a cocky air, moustache, and no glasses. The chaps are working on that.

"But in the meanwhile, Patil has discovered something interesting. He has visited Dina Sattar's Bank Manager and her bank statements, in her own individual account, show heavy cash withdrawals at periodic intervals. Now there's nothing to show that the lady has been buying any jewellery or expensive stuff of late. The money simply seems to have disappeared." He cocked a bushy eyebrow at the DCP. "I can sniff some blackmail here."

Tagore frowned. "Possibly. But in cases of blackmail it's normally the blackmailer who gets murdered, not the victim."

"Perhaps she refused to play ball any longer and threatened to go to the Police, or to inform her husband," hazarded Irani, refusing to be baulked of his theory so summarily.

"Yes, that's quite possible," conceded Tagore, adding dryly, "All the more reason we find the mystery visitor, as I imagine he's the one you suspect of being the blackmailer."

Zerxes rose and moved to the phone, dialling without seeking anyone's permission. "Ms. Scherezade Vatcha, please." He arranged to pick her up for lunch and left with Tagore.

After they had left, Rodricks turned to Irani and asked diffidently, "Do you think it's wise to take this A vari chap so much into our confidence, Sir? Considering his. . .er. . . relationship with one of the suspects?"

Irani exchanged an amused glance with Patil. "If, boyo, you seriously think Scherezade Vatcha murdered an aunt she evidently loved dearly, for the sake of some jewellery which she may not even get, I think it's time to retire you from the Force on the ground of an overactive imagination," he said with withering scorn.

Rodricks stood his ground. "It's not just the young lady, Sir. Even her father's been acting funnily. And there's been no love lost between him and the deceased for quite a few years."

"Yes, 'Drew, but why now, after so many years?" asked Irani patiently. "If Dina Sattar had been murdered shortly after her conversion and marriage to Sattar, I could have understood Fredun Vatcha committing murder in a fit of righteousness. As it is, our suspects seem narrowed down to the husband and to the mystery man. That is, if Nivedita Shahane's death turns out to be murder. If it is suicide, we don't have to look any further."

"You think she could have murdered Dina Sattar, Sir?" asked Patil.

Irani nodded. "Her mother's suicide could have triggered off her death wish for Dina into something more concrete. She had been to the house on the morning of her birthday. She knew it was her birthday. She was alone in the Hall, while Sattar and his wife were breakfasting. You both have seen the house. From the Hall, she could have easily slipped into Dina's bedroom, put the poison into the bottle of perfume, and slipped back into the Hall. Maybe," he said, remembering something he had read from both Prakash Sattar's and the maid's testimony, "that is why she did not wait to see Dina, but went off before Dina had finished her breakfast and come out to the Hall"

"But the poison? Where would a kid like that have got the poison from?" inquired Patil. "Something so unusual as Nitrobenzene, at that?"

"Ah! That's where we had a bit of good luck, when we questioned Suchitra Khanna," said Irani. "It appears that one of Nivedita's cousins, a chap named Sunil Shahane, has a workshop where he manufactures hair dye, quite close to the Shahane residence. This Sunil Shahane was present at Karuna's funeral. Now 'Drew has done a bit of research into this poison. Aniline, a product of Nitrobenzene, is used in the manufacture of hair dye, among other things. The cousin's workshop could well have been Nivedita's source."

"So it all fits in . . . Nivedita poisoned Dina . . . and then committed suicide in a fit of remorse," said Patil slowly. "But why should she feel remorse?"

"That, Avinash, is human nature for you," said Irani, getting up and stretching himself. "And now, boyos, get the Commander to check out where Prakash Sattar bought that bottle of perfume and when. It shouldn't be too difficult. Most of these Johnnies have their favourite smugglers."
"What about the first husband?" asked Rodricks suddenly. "Are we eliminating him completely from any suspicion?"

"Oh, he remains a suspect all right," answered Irani carelessly. "But I don't fancy him much. No motive. In homicide, boyo, motive is everything. Unless it's a serial killer or some such weirdo. The motive may appear inadequate; it may appear stupid to a lot of people. But some motive must exist! And so far, I can't see the shadow of a motive where the first husband is concerned."
"What about Sattar's son, then? That Vinod fellow? Maybe he too has had resentment against Dina, as his sister had, and never showed it? After all, he's a Doctor. This esoteric poison may well point to someone with medical knowledge," suggested Rodricks.

"Yes, I'll be willing to examine that red herring, Andrew, if you show me one piece of evidence saying Vinod Shahane was anywhere near the Sattars' residence before Dina died," said Irani. "And as for the 'medical knowledge', I suggest you look up in some good medical dictionary: it'll tell you all you want to know about Nitrobenzene."

Rodricks was silenced. Apart from the sarcastic tone, the use of his full first name by Irani was enough to warn him that the Boss was getting impatient. This was a hint that he wanted more evidence, and quickly. Irani had set up a punishing pace for his 'boyos', and did not intend to let it slacken till the case was solved.

* * * *

Zerxes had fetched Scherezade from her office. He took her to Gaylord's for lunch. It was one of her favourites. Scherezade, normally a light luncher, decided to pig it out that day, startling Zerxes by ordering a Lobster Thermidor, Chicken Cecilia and two plates of garlic bread.

"You won't be able to work after all this," he protested.

"Don't intend to," flashed Scherezade, biting into a hot buttered roll of garlic bread. "What are your plans?"
"I've arranged to meet my father after lunch. There are certain points about the case I want to discuss with him."

"No Court?" she asked him.

Zerxes shrugged. "Rishad and Himanshu will manage, for today." He looked at her for a moment and then said deliberately, "In the morning, I'd gone over to meet old Kabraji. I met Patil there," Then he told her about the new development. About Nivedita.

The lobster turned in Scherezade's stomach. She shuddered, pushing her plate away.

"Hel-low, Zerxes!" The cheery voice seemed to sound just above her head. Scherezade looked up to find a striking young man standing there, vigorously pumping Zerxes' arm.

Zerxes pulled away his arm, grimacing. "Come off it, Abhijeet," he said mockingly. "you can't be all that glad to see me!" Noticing where Abhijeet's glance had been hovering, he introduced Scherezade. To Abhijeet Roy. Dr. Abhijeet Roy, he amended.

"What's the busy Counsel doing out of Court?" grinned Abhijeet.

Zerxes said deliberately, "I'm a bit busy with the Dina Sattar murder."

"Oh! And what's your interest in that murder?" asked Abhijeet curiously. "Has anyone been arrested? Are you representing any of the accused? Come on, spill the beans!"

"Why don't you join us for coffee?" offered Zerxes rather to Scherezade's astonishment, lifting a long forefinger to summon the waiter. A chair was promptly placed at their table, and Abhijeet plonked himself on to it, needing no further invitation.

"To get back to your question," continued Zerxes, "no, no one has been arrested as yet. Nor am I representing anyone as yet."

"Then what's your interest in it?" Abhijeet repeated the question.

Indicating Scherezade with a slight gesture, Zerxes replied, "Dina Sattar was her aunt."

"Oh! I'm dashed sorry. Awful thing to happen. Murder in the family and all that!"

The coffee was brought to their table. Stirring it, Abhijeet volunteered, "Even the old man doesn't have long to live, now." Looking into Scherezade's astonished eyes he nodded, saying simply, "Terminal."

"Prakash Sattar?" asked Scherezade unnecessarily.

Abhijeet nodded again, as though imparting momentous news. "His son's pretty upset about it. The old man hardly has a few months left." He suddenly looked at his watch and exclaimed, pushing back his chair and getting up jerkily, "Christ! Look at the time! Gotta rush. See y' guys around!" With an airy wave he was gone.

After he had left, Scherezade asked Zerxes, "For heaven's sake who was that? And how come he knows so much about Prakash Sattar?"

"Abhijeet, my love, is the son of Sonali Roy." Then, as she still looked blank, he continued, stretching out his hand across the table and holding both her hands in his strong, long-fingered clasp, "Sonali Roy is the lady with whom Prakash Sattar has been having an affair these last couple of years."

A spasm of pain crossed Scherezade's face. No wonder Dina Fui had not been looking too happy.

They finished their coffee in silence. Scherezade's face had a set look, making her look almost grim. Zerxes frowned, then asked her gently where she wanted to go for the rest of the afternoon.

"I've changed my mind," she said. "I'11 go back to the office, after all."

He nodded, relieved. "Better," he said. "But see if you can get away earlier than usual." Normally, she was in her office, and he at his Chambers till at least about 7 every evening. "I don't think I'll be with Dad for more than a couple of hours. It's 3, now. I'll pick you up at about 5, 5.30. That suit you?"

* * * *

He was prompt to the time he had promised. By 5.15, Scherezade was in the car with him.
To her surprise, he drove over to her parents' place. "1 want to have a word with your father," he explained.

The family was at home. Fredun had just returned from work. So had Firdauz. Fredun seemed both preoccupied and ill at ease. Rashna disappeared into the kitchen on their arrival, on the pretext of making some tea. Firdauz sat flipping desultorily through the latest copy of 'Glad Rags'. He was rather proud of his body!

Zerxes took Fredun aside and asked him without preamble, "Do you know of anything in Dina's past which could render her open to blackmail?" Fredun was stunned by the question, and looked it.
"Why? Was she being blackmailed?" he asked.

Zerxes shrugged. "That's a possibility the Police are examining. So if you do know of anything, I suggest you come out with it and let them know. It just might throw some light on who the murderer may be." As Fredun seemed to hesitate a bit, he added dryly, "Please appreciate, Fredun, that we all are, somehow, involved in this! It's in everyone's interest to at least try and ensure that the real murderer is caught. Otherwise," he met Fredun's eyes steadily, "some of us will remain under the shadow of suspicion unnecessarily, and all of us will spend the rest of our lives wondering who the murderer had been. Or who it could have been!"

Fredun looked at him with something very like horror in his eyes. This aspect of the matter had not previously occurred to him. He thought for a moment. "I don't know anything, but Banoo Maa just might. If there's anything to know, she's the one person who will know. Would you like to phone her?"

"I think it would be better if Scherezade and I went over to her place instead. Why don't you join us there, if you like?" suggested Zerxes. "If Rashna doesn't mind, of course!"

"Rashna won't mind. And yes, that's a good idea. I'll come along with you."

"Then you'd better take your vehicle," Zerxes suggested. "We may need to go somewhere else after seeing Banoo."

* * * *

"Blackmail?" echoed Banoo Maa, when the question was put to her by Zerxes. "Is that what you really suspect?" The old lady looked at him, seeming stricken. Then she turned away and said, "I suppose it will all have to come out, then! It can't remain hidden any longer."

"That's one of the attendant ills of a murder case," said Zerxes gently. "The investigation brooks no secrets. Relevant or not. That's because till the murderer is caught, very often the Police themselves can't be sure just what is relevant and what is not."

Banoo appeared to have hardly heard him. She began in a low toneless voice, "After she and Khurshed had divorced, Dina got involved with someone. He's dead now, so his name need not be dragged in. He was a no-good womanizer." She glanced fleetingly at Scherezade and swallowed, as though trying to digest something nasty all over a again.

Zerxes waited patiently, aware that it was best that the old lady be allowed to tell the story in her own way, at her own pace.

After what seemed a long moment, Banoo Maa continued, "Dina became pregnant with his child. He was not married. Dina was sure that once she was pregnant, he would marry her and they could have the child. She was so excited! She thought God had given her a second chance, after taking away little Hanoz from her. But that rascal never had any intention of marrying her! When he came to know she was pregnant, he disappeared. Dina had waited till it was too late for an abortion. She had the child. It was a lovely little girl. We had gone to Poona for the delivery, so no one in Bombay would know." Tears ran unchecked down the wrinkled old cheeks. Scherezade went up to her, put an arm round the frail old shoulders and gave them a comforting squeeze. Giving herself a visible shake, Banoo Maa went on.

"The child was given away in adoption almost immediately after her birth. It had all been arranged beforehand. A close friend of Dina was childless. She and her husband took the child away within a month of her birth and brought her up as their own. Dina used to visit them often. Of course, the child was never told anything about Dina being the real mother."

"Where do these people stay?" asked Zerxes. "In Poona?"

"No, they're from Bombay. They had come to Poona for the delivery. They took away the baby from Poona only. They're a very nice, very rich Parsee couple. Dina was keen that her child be adopted by Parsees only," she said, shaking her head at the inconsistency of human behaviour.

She then rose with some difficulty, and from her old roll-top table, pulled out a diary, opened it at a particular page and gave it to Zerxes.

"This is the name and address, Dikra. Do what you have to, but ask your DCP friend to be discreet. Let my poor Dina's memory not be tarnished any further!"

Fredun had sat all through this almost immobile. Now he got up with a jerk and started pacing about the room, as though sitting still had become a torture that could not be borne any longer.
Looking up at the hurt in his face, Banoo Maa almost forgot her own. Her straight-forward, unimaginative Fredun. How on earth was he going to take all these revelations about his once beloved sister?

With an effort, Fredun brought his features under control. He stopped pacing, and stared at Banoo Maa. Something had suddenly struck him. Still staring at Banoo Maa, he asked almost eagerly, "Maa, do you member Fatima's husband? That Makbul? He used to beat up Fatima get money out of her? That is why Dina persuaded Fatima to leave him and live with her and Khurshed in their house, full time. If I member correctly, he was quite a nosy chap. And even after Fatima left him, he used to suddenly land up at Khurshed and Dina's, to get some money out of Fatima, didn't he?"

Banoo Maa stared at him. "Yes, he did. But. . . do you think he's been visiting Dina's place even after her marriage to Prakash, and trying . blackmail her? No, Fredun, that sounds too far-fetched."

"Just a minute," broke in Zerxes. "Do any of you know what this Makbul fellow does for a living? If he does anything at all?"

"Well dear, he was working as a Television mechanic at one time, that much I do know. Now what he does, I haven't the faintest idea," replied Banoo Maa.

"Television mechanic, was he?" murmured Zerxes, a sudden gleam of interest showing in his green eyes, recalling what Patil had revealed at the Station. "Is he short and stocky, with a moustache?" he asked.

"Yes, I suppose that would be a good description of him," replied Banoo slowly, looking at Zerxes, puzzled.

Zerxes rose abruptly, stretching out his hand to Scherezade. "We'll pay Fatima a visit. Sattar's still at the Shahanes. Come, sweetheart."

From Banoo Maa's, Zerxes and Scherezade drove straight to Prakash's, leaving behind a mystified Fredun and Banoo Maa.

Fatima, when confronted by them, sobbingly admitted that her husband Makbul used to come to visit her off and on. But she insisted that he came to see her, not her Bibiji.

"He says bad things about Bibiji, Sherrie Baby," cried the maid, weeping and clinging to Scherezade's hands. "He tells me, Fatima, to leave Bibiji and go with him. He says Bibiji is bad woman. She has child she does not keep. The Chinoys, at Bandra, they keep Bibiji's child. He seen Bibiji there, when he go to make their Television allright. He heard them talk about baby. He knows!"

"Why did you allow him to come here, then?" demanded Scherezade.

Fatima sniffed and looked slyly at her. "What to do, Baby? I need a man sometime. I stay with Bibiji. But he comes here. To meet me, Fatima," she almost crowed triumphantly.

Over her head, Scherezade exchanged a glance with Zerxes. It seemed clear enough. There was nothing more they could say, or ask.

Zerxes' face signalled a message to her.

She asked Fatima, "Where does your husband stay, Fatima?" Then, as a wary look crept into the maid's eyes, she said firmly, "You must tell us, Fatima. If you loved your Bibiji. And if you don't want the Police landing up here."

Visibly alarmed at that, the maid told them. "But you don't tell police, no?"

Scherezade released her hands from the maid's clutching hold and followed Zerxes out of the house. "How could she?" she raged as soon they were out of the house. "After all my aunt had done for her. How could she even let him step inside the house?"

Zerxes drove swiftly to the slums along the sea-side at Cuffe Parade. He told Scherezade to remain in the car and got out himself to make the necessary inquiries.

The koli fishermen, suspicious and wary at first, ultimately succumbed to Zerxes' persuasive tongue. One lungi-clad figure called out to another, till quite a conclave had formed. Finally, one of them directed him to the hut where apparently Makbul had been living with a plump, comely fisherwoman.

She welcomed Zerxes coyly. Admitted that Makbul was her 'aadmi'. Spat out that he had disappeared. When? Oh, since the 28th of June.

The day after Dina Sattar's murder.

*