THE MURDER IN MY DREAM

The murder in my dream

It is often said that if you have a special person in life, you don't need a diary. But I strongly believe that a human will always fail you. Inadvertently. Sometimes in a few days. Sometimes after a few years. I am writing this diary because of an eerie dream – I saw a murder. Murder of my best friend. That too, by her husband.

February 18, 2019

I don't know yet whether things happened the way I am going to describe. Perhaps it's my mind playing games as it often does after a marathon reading of the psychotic thrillers. Or maybe it’s my pills that my therapist has prescribed for my paranoia. But my gut says otherwise – I think the murder did happen. I just need to get to the bottom of it.  

Let me go back a few months. Simran, my best friend from college had gotten married to Rakesh Sinha, a hotshot management consultant who owned a plush 3BHK in Bandra along with a couple of swanky cars. I know what you are thinking, but no. My friend wasn’t a gold digger. In fact, she was a senior vice-president at one of the top advertising firms and often traveled across the globe to meet potential clients.

Simran and Rakesh seemed like the perfect power couple. And, they looked cute together too. Their Instagram pics always received more than five hundred likes – and some say, that’s the metric used nowadays to quantify love!

You know, I often get weird vivid ghastly dreams. Generally, of death and torture. Sometimes it’s an old lady wailing; sometimes it’s a vision of a random person being stabbed. I often wake up in the middle of the night, trying to recollect details – the face, the location, so that I can talk to the police. Not that they would listen to a 32-year-old single, allegedly crazy woman, with a history of paranoia.

But yesterday’s dream was different. I saw Simran and Rakesh in my dream. Vividly. Her face disfigured as if hit by a heavy object. A vase with bloodstains. A body being dragged. Blood being wiped. I shrugged it off as just another dream but this time it was different. What if it were true? It must have been around 2-2.30 in the morning. I impulsively thought of calling up Simran, but I stopped. After all, it’s bad manners to call someone up in the middle of the night, for no apparent reason. So, I waited until the morning. At 7.55, I called Simran again. No response. At 8.05, I called again. This time, Rakesh picked up.

"Hey, Rakesh. It's me. Tania. Is Simran around?"

"Hey Tania. Long time! Sim’s not in town. She’s gone to Paris. Meeting with some fashion boutiques there.”

“Oh, did she change her number? I thought this was her number.”

“No, you are right. The idiot forgot to carry her phone. I have been worried since morning. Waiting for her to land and I am hoping she will call me up from the hotel"

"Okay. No problem. This wasn’t urgent. Tell her to call me when you get a chance to speak with her."

I got off the call, feeling a lump in my throat. This story doesn’t add up. Could it be a coincidence? I can’t let it go. It’s too much of a risk. I decide to visit their place soon.

February 19, 2019

I am planning to visit her place today. But what excuse should I give? I don’t even know Rakesh and Simran’s not here. In real life, people don't stealthily sneak into other people's homes like they show in books or movies. How do I find out? Do I inform my brother, Jay? "You are basing this on a dream. Preposterous." That's what he'd say. No, I can't take the risk. It must be me. I need to get into ‘Casa Sinha’ (yes, that’s what they call it – fancy Portuguese or Spanish or whatever!)

I made coffee for myself. My head was spinning with all the tension. I tried to remember the dream. The details. All of it. But I couldn't. Instead I remembered a strange observation. Simran always used to wear sleeveless clothes. But right after their honeymoon, that changed. First, I thought that maybe she wants to hide her “love bites”. Then I thought that maybe her husband wanted her to dress more conservatively. But now something sinister was brewing in my head. Was she hiding something? Maybe a bruise? Did Rakesh beat her up? If so, why didn’t she speak up?

I needed to somehow go to Rakesh's home to find the truth. But how? And why will he let me in when Simran is not even at home.

What other option did I have? Eureka! I decided to befriend Surekha, their maid who fortunately is friend of Ramatai, my maid.

But why will Ramatai help me? In India, money can do wonders. Later in the day, a crisp 500 rupee note was all it took to convince Ramatai to ask a simple thing to Surekha: "How's your boss? Is he the generous type? Can he offer a job to my husband as a driver?" 

Obviously, I couldn’t ask Surekha directly about Rakesh. The plan had to be executed in phases.

February 20, 2019

Ramatai relayed the conversation in the morning. Surekha had told her, "Sahab is very sweet. He always gives me my salary on time. He is always charming with his wife. Always gives her a peck on the cheek when he leaves for work. Simran madam is a bit weird though. She always shies away when he tries to kiss her, and she always has an angry look on her face. Maybe she doesn’t want to kiss her husband in front of a lowly maid."

The last statement piqued my interest. I gleamed knowing that my suspicions were right, and I immediately felt worried for my friend.

I decided to move to Step 2 of my plan, which is to meet Surekha accidentally in the market while she’s going grocery shopping. Ramatai and Surekha often shopped together. Tomorrow, I’ll accompany Ramatai on my errand. I sent a note to my boss that I’d be working from home tomorrow as I had some “errands” in the morning.

February 21, 2019

One hour of frivolous talk and grocery shopping later I asked Ramatai to go to buy ice-cream from Naturals about a km away, so that I could spend some time alone with Surekha.

"Where is Simran?" I asked. "Don't know." She replied. I accepted the answer coz I had to get her to trust me. Though the expression on her face gave her away. She was lying.

I knew I had to probe further. So, I concocted a lie. “Simran had asked me to come over this Sunday so I called Rakesh to confirm but he said she's gone to Paris. That too without her phone. I wanted to discuss with her a new advertisement campaign that we are collaborating on. (This was a lie; we didn’t work in the same organization. Hell no, we didn’t work for the same industry too) Anyway if you get to know about her whereabouts, ask her to call me okay?"

Her lips were pursed. Her mind in a dilemma whether to tell me the truth. "Madam, I saw something yesterday. When I came to work yesterday, I saw red stains on the floor. I think it was blood. Don’t utter a word to anyone. Sahab will kill me. And my sister. I need to go.”

And with that, she scampered off. My paranoia in action, I immediately wondered if she will relay our conversation to Rakesh. No, she won't, I assured myself. What does she have to gain?

I needed to think of the next step. Something sure was fishy. Do I go the police? But why would the police believe me? Me, a 32-year-old woman with a history of anxiety and paranoia. And on what basis will they agree for a search warrant? On basis of my dream? Should I file a "missing person" report? Again, on what basis? That it’s impossible for a person in this digital age to forget her phone at home? Should I check with the airlines for a passenger named Simran Sinha? What a stupid thought! Lot of flights go to Paris. Bad idea!

What if all of this is my paranoia? I should give Rakesh the benefit of the doubt. Time to go to bed!

February 22, 2019

Today, when I woke up in the morning, I had a Facebook message from Simran, "Rakesh said you had called. So sorry babe. I forgot my phone at home. I'll see you when back?"

Phew, I was relieved. I immediately started typing, "Hey Simran..." But then I stopped. If Rakesh had her phone, couldn't he have typed this message from her Facebook account? Had he become suspicious that I was snooping around? I need to be more careful. But there was no way I was going to stop the investigation. I was even more determined to get to the truth now.

Should I inform Jay, I wondered. No, I can't do this. He will ask me whether I have taken my medication and ask me to visit Dr. Gidwani again. Psycho, they all call me. Psycho, my ass. Ok, calm down Tania. I can't change the past. Focus, I tell myself.

I decided to play mind games with Rakesh. "I got a message from Simran. Thanks so much for informing her." I WhatsApped him.

"No problem. I know you are her best friend and have every right to be worried." came the prompt reply.

How did he know I was worried? Did my tone give it away when I called him the other day?

I ignored his comment, but I knew I had to do something radical here. "I had to drop some packages for Simran. Mind if I come home?"

No response for thirty minutes. "Yes sure, do you want to come over tomorrow for dinner? Chicken and wine?"

"Sounds good. See you at 7"

February 23, 2019

Today was largely a boring day. One of the dullest, probably as dull and slow as the time I was hospitalized last year after I attempted suicide.

Around 7, I left for his home. Wearing a maroon sweater and pants, the attire I felt most comfortable in. It helped calm down my nerves for sure. I had been to their place a few times but this one was different. What if he drugs me? No, no. I'll wait for him to eat the chicken first. I'll pour my wine glass myself. I can’t take any risks you see.

Nothing eventful happened over the first one hour. Just general talk about work and life.  I wanted to take him off guard and so I asked, "So how's married life?"

For a moment, I imagined a look of alarm on his face before he went back to his calm self and said, "it's great. But you know, with work pressures and Simi’s travel, it’s difficult to spend time with each other. And then Simi forgets her phone at home."

Rakesh was sticking to the story. I had to make a bold move.

"You know I thought something happened to her. For a moment, with my history of paranoia, I even suspected that you had killed her”. And he burst laughing. Trust me, it was the eeriest laugh I had ever heard.

"I wish there was some truth in it. I am just a boring management consultant. It would have been good to lead a dual life. Imagine this. Rakesh Sinha, a management consultant by day, a psychopath by night."

The way he said it, the way his eyes gleamed, I almost felt that he meant it. It was pure ecstasy in his voice and the eyes.

"More chicken?" he changed the topic, and I was left dumbfounded.

We chatted for half an hour more and then I left for home. And now, here I am, talking to you, my diary.

February 25, 2019

Sorry diary, for not talking to you yesterday. It was a stressful week and I needed a break. So, Netflix it was! My companion for the day!

However, today early morning, I got a text from an unnamed number: "I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TRYING TO DO. DON'T!!!"

I woke up with palpitations. I popped a few pills, but the palpitations persisted.

Should I let go? But my best friend was still missing. I couldn't possibly forget that. But was she missing? I should try to contact her on Facebook. I realized I hadn't responded to her message. "Hey babes, how's Paris? Met Rakesh for dinner on Saturday. He seems to miss you a lot when you travel. See you soon!"

Even if Rakesh was using her Facebook account, this message would allay his fears. Good job on the mind games, Tania.

Bye diary, it’s Monday morning and I need to head to work. But I feel this will be a momentous day in my life. I think I have this case sorted now. Time to go to the police!

Epilogue:

Dead woman’s diary helps nab murderer

Times of India

MUMBAI. March 7, 2019

Earlier today, the Mumbai police arrested Mr. Rakesh Sinha under suspicion of murder of his wife, Simran Sinha. The police even suspect that he was involved in the hit-and-run incident that killed his wife’s best friend, Tania Mukherjee at Carter Road on the morning of February 25. Witnesses on Carter road claim they saw a black Fortuner lurking in the shadows for close to fifteen minutes, before speeding at 140KMPH and killing the lady.

Incidentally, the police found a diary in Ms. Mukherjee’s bag, which conjectured that Rakesh had killed his wife. Mr. Nikhil Rane, the Inspector in-charge of the hit-and-run incident did not want to take any chances and secured a search warrant for Mr. Sinha’s apartment. He, along with a team of five policemen, stormed into his apartment today and arrested him.

“My client is completely innocent. Mrs. Simran Sinha is currently in Paris for work. My client's black Fortuner was stolen the evening of February 24, 2019, a day before the hit-and-run incident. Both the allegations against my client are absolutely baseless. I will get my client out on bail today itself”, Mr. Sinha’s lawyer, Mr. Ayush Saxena kept shouting vehemently, while Mr. Sinha remained silent throughout.

Interestingly, Mr. Sinha’s maid, Surekha Jadhav is missing since February 25. The police have initiated an exhaustive search to find her. Needless to say, this case is likely to go on for a while...