“Born Aditi Chopra?”
“Very good, yes. You would have got there in the end, wouldn’t you? You know my famous mother, then?”
“And your famous father.”
Aakash chuckled and jutted his chin slightly, preening in spite of it all. He was a good-looking guy, thought Nisha. He would have been a devastatingly attractive woman.
“Back then Nalin D’Souza was a big shot in a law firm who abandoned her the moment she got pregnant. You were right about her. She was gutless. She left me at the orphanage when I was eight.”
“And she’s the source of your Durga fascination?”
“Fascination?” scoffed Aakash. He curled a lip. “Hatred is the word I think we’re looking for. Yes, Mother was a worshiper of Durga. ‘Pray to Durga if you’re ever in trouble, Aditi.’ And you know what? I did. And you know what good it did me? Fuck all. It brought me to the orphanage, where I met Elina Xavier — the enforcer from hell, who’d cane me mercilessly, hold my head under water, make me piss my pants with fear. She’d fly into a rage and try to strangle me with her bare hands.”
Strangulation, thought Nisha. That figured.
“Durga brought me the riots that burned me out of my home and took me into the clutches of Ragini Sharma. Durga brought me cops who raided the brothel. Durga brought me you, Nisha Gandhe.”
And now she understood. “Oh God. I busted you?”
“Yes!” he said, with a flourish. “Enter Nisha Gandhe, stage left, fearlessly raiding the brothel and ensuring I was prosecuted for possession of narcotics, even though the drugs weren’t mine.”
“I was a junior officer,” protested Nisha. “I was acting on the orders of my superiors.”
Aakash gave a short, dry laugh. “If you’re trying to say you haven’t earned your place as the ninth Durga, dear Nisha, then I must respectfully disagree. I kept trying to explain to you that the drugs weren’t mine, but you never listened.”
He reached into his back pocket and withdrew a yellow scarf. She felt a whimper build in her throat but stifled it.
Don’t give him the satisfaction.
Chapter 103
All around the car were spanking new structures — corporate towers shimmering with steel and glass facades. Albert Mills stood out like an eyesore, a desolate island of abandonment and neglect surrounded by a sea of prosperity.
This, though, was where a trace on Aakash’s cell phone had led them.
Santosh turned in the passenger seat. Behind him was Jack, checking his Colt, and Hari, who stared out of the window with a vacant, cloudy expression. In his lap he held his Glock, thumb stroking the safety catch.
“I don’t like the look of those guns,” said Santosh. “We need to take him alive. Aakash is the leverage we need to find out information about the attack.”
Jack nodded. “Hari?” prompted Santosh. Hari tore his gaze from the window and Santosh dreaded to think what thoughts had been plaguing him. Good God, what had they done to him?
“Yes, boss, understood,” replied Hari, with a forced smile.
A token security guard at the gate sleepily prevented their car from driving through. Rather than arguing with him, Mubeen rolled down his window and silently handed over a five-hundred-rupee note to the man. His sleepy scowl was suddenly transformed into a toothless smile and he snapped to attention, offering his smartest salute to them.
“Does anyone stay or work from here?” asked Mubeen.
“No, sahib,” replied the guard. “All the industrial sheds are absolutely empty. Only one single north-facing shed has been rented out to an upcoming beauty parlor, but no one uses this gate to get there. There is a rear entrance to the mill premises and the architects and designers come and go through that. Renovation work is yet to start.”
“Tell us how to get there,” said Mubeen.
They drove on. Santosh spoke into a walkie-talkie — speaking to an army of cops waiting half a mile away.
Chapter 104
“And your defender, that was Anjana Lal, wasn’t it?” said Nisha.
Aakash cocked his head at her. “Have you thought of becoming a detective? You’re really rather good at it.”
“And in prison you met Devika Gulati?”
He pulled another face. “Yes. Evil sex-mad bitch that she was. She violated me repeatedly in the most disgusting and demeaning manner possible.” He shuddered at the thought. “She was an angry woman — confused about her sexuality — and took out all her anger on me.”
“How did you eventually get out of her clutches?”
“Munna. I discovered a plot to kill him, told him, and received his undying gratitude in return. When I was released he arranged for me to find refuge in one of Nimboo Baba’s ashrams. For the first time in my life I was at peace.”
“You became close to Nimboo Baba?”
“Well, yes, and Nimboo Baba is a very naughty boy. He is what you’d call a pansexual, with a special liking for trans men.” Aakash pushed up the sleeves of his jacket and pointed at himself. “That’s me. So when I admitted to him that I hated women — they had tormented me for most of my life — and that I did not want to be female anymore, and I wanted to become a male, well, that sent him into a state of frothy longing. Nimboo Baba arranged for me to become a man — and in return I agreed to let him have his way with me.”
“It was in Thailand you met Priyanka Talati, wasn’t it? What did she do, Aakash? What did she do to inspire your hatred?”
He cast her a withering look. “Drunk one night, she tore at my clothes and discovered my secret. Her laughter cost her her life.” He stopped. “Oh, that’s it. We’ve reached the end. Every victim accounted for.” He smiled at her. “Even you.”
Standing by the side of the bed like an attentive nurse, he lifted her head and passed the scarf behind her neck, gathering the two ends by her throat. “I don’t usually have the chance to savor my kills like this,” he said in the tone of someone breaching a confidence. “God, some of them struggled. They really struggled.” His eyes went misty for a moment. “Mother struggled the most, especially when she knew it was me.” He let the ends of the scarf drop and with a hairdresser’s gesture he reached to pull Nisha’s hair free of it. “There,” he said. “Much better.”
“You don’t have to do this,” she said in a parched voice.
“I do,” he said dreamily. “I have to, or I shall never have peace.”
“You’ll never have peace, Aakash. You’re a troubled soul.” She looked at him with beseeching eyes. “You can’t soothe your soul with yet more pain.”
His lips twitched slightly. “Well, Nisha, we shall see, shan’t we?”
He began to tighten the garrote.
Chapter 105
Drawing his colt, Jack tiptoed up the stairs with Hari close behind him. As they approached the loft they heard two voices, one of them belonging to Nisha. At the top was a door inset with a dirty window. Raising himself up slightly he was able to peer through the dust and grime on the glass.
He saw a large warehouse space. A bed in its center. The whole scene like a film set, except there were no cameras, no guys in baseball caps hanging around, just Aakash leaning over the bed. And Nisha. Or what he could see of her at least.
And then Jack saw a flash of yellow in Aakash’s hands. He saw Nisha’s legs tauten at her bonds. The garroting had begun.
On the bed, Nisha felt the material tighten around her neck. She felt dizzy as her oxygen supply began to diminish. She was blacking out.