Aditya reached home at 7 p.m., much earlier than his usual time. Too tired to eat or change, he lay down on his bed, fully dressed. But his mind was still restless; he was thinking about Meera when he finally fell asleep.
He woke up to the sound of his mobile phone ringing. It was Rohit. He noted the time; it was 2 a.m.
‘Aditya, please come quickly ... she has gone berserk ... she will kill me ... please help me!’
‘Calm down, Rohit,’ Aditya said, wide awake now, but Rohit did not respond. The call was abruptly disconnected. Aditya tried Rohit’s number again, but he did not pick up.
Aditya swiftly buttoned his shirt and put on his shoes. Picking up his handgun, a single-action Colt, he checked the chamber. Six bullets. Satisfied, he stuck the gun in its holster and sped out into the dark, moonless night.
He called Rohit again from the car phone, but there was no answer. Pick up, pick up, Aditya drummed impatiently on the steering wheel. He contemplated calling Meera, but decided against it. She was at least two hours away; there was nothing she could do.
At the Lilavati Hospital junction, he saw an ambulance speeding towards the hospital’s emergency entrance. Is that you, Rohit? He reached for his phone again and called Rohit. No answer. ‘Goddammit!’ Aditya swore.
Carter Road was completely deserted, bathed in the orange glow of its street lamps. Lights were still on in a few houses. The sea was choppy; Aditya could hear the waves crashing furiously against the concrete breakers on the shore. His car screeched to a halt outside Paradise less than fifteen minutes after he had received Rohit’s call. His eyes darted momentarily to Sam’s house; all the lights were switched off.
As he approached the gate, he heard a scream, ‘No, no ... don’t!’ It was Rohit’s voice. He pushed the iron grille open and rushed in, just in time to see Rohit run into the house and Tanvi behind him, a glistening knife in her right hand, raised to strike.
Aditya removed his gun from its holster and gripped it with both hands. He reached the front door, resolving to shoot it open if locked, but it was ajar. He could hear deafening music inside the house. The living room was completely dark, except for the flickering light of the television screen, where a music channel was playing Sweet Child of Mine at maximum volume. Aditya felt totally disoriented. He took two steps forward into the room, but stumbled on the small table by the sofas. As he regained his footing, he tried to create a mental map of the house from memory. He tried to recollect where the switchboard was but could not. A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead as he gripped the gun tightly, holding it in front of him.
‘Help...’ He heard Rohit’s faint voice, which sounded like someone was choking him. Aditya’s eyes followed the direction of the voice; it seemed to be coming from the far end of the room, but he could not be sure. Holding the gun in his right hand, he groped for some support with his left, but found none. As he stepped further away from the television, the faint, dancing rays from the screen cast a sinister, changeable light on the room. Aditya was concentrating hard, straining his ears to hear above the din of the music.
The voice again. ‘Please ... don’t.’ Help me, please. I don’t want to die. It was the voice of a man who knew his death was near.
Aditya frowned, trying to detect even the slightest movement in the direction from where the voice came. Just then, a flicker of light from the television screen fell on a spot about thirty feet away and briefly illuminated the entwined bodies of Tanvi and Rohit, before fading again. They were in the dining area behind the large table, partially hidden by it. Rohit was lying flat on his back, squirming and twisting. Tanvi was on top of him, slowly forcing the knife down towards her husband’s chest. Rohit was holding his wife’s killer wrist, desperately trying to stop the knife from sinking fatally into him.
Standing in the darkness, gun in hand, Aditya deliberated. He realised he would have to take action. The blade was moving down swiftly, now barely a couple of inches from Rohit’s trembling chest. He knew he was too far to reach Rohit in time to save him. Just then, the light flickered briefly on the two figures again. ‘Aditya, help me!’ Rohit screamed.
Aditya fired.