Murder at the Falaknuma by R Shankar

Author:R Shankar [Shankar, R]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-13T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

So, tell me, what’s been up?

Vijay gives his guests a smart salute as they approach his vehicle. ‘Ready, Saar?’ he asks the American, with a friendly smile. ‘Yep,’ says the man, as he gets into one of the passenger seats. The matronly lady in the orange and pink salwaar suit takes the seat next to him .

‘Shotgun!’ calls the young woman rushing ahead to the front. The young man left behind looks a little bit forlorn, as he gingerly enters the back seat of the Crysta, ruffling his mother and his brother in law, on the way there. ‘Can’t believe you’re cramping me in the back here,’ he whines at his sister, who is busy taking a selfie.

‘Smile for the camera Kesh!’ she yells, as she expertly frames the entire car into her shot.

Vijay gives it his best side profile with a half-serious glance.

‘Niice!’ she says, smiling and putting her phone away in an expensive looking sling bag.

‘Better watch that bag,’ thinks Vijay to himself. The pickpockets of Charminar were a handful to deal with and he needed to watch out for… He loses his trail of thought abruptly as he notices a figure in the rearview, sprinting towards them, hands waving wildly.

‘Hallu, hallu! Sambhal ke!’ he yells out, lowering his window. He hadn’t even put the car in gear yet.

---

Ananya is still struggling to catch her breath when the car veers into Old City. So typical of Boss to suddenly order her to escort them on this tour without any notice whatsoever. He was being all hyper-vigilant again, saying that he had whiffed a hint of hashish off the guests at Gol Bangla.

How could they have done that without him knowing? He had eyes everywhere, and everyone was constantly reporting to him. Especially when it was about contraband. That’s what they were trained to spot and discourage, either through constant invasion and distraction, or sometimes, discrete clean up and disposal. ‘The Palace is large, you imbecile. They could have pulled it off,’ he had retorted, in that super annoying know-it-all tone.

She glances around at the guests to suss out any hints of waywardness. Uh oh! Mrs. Serman has caught her looking.

‘Ananya, tell me ma, do you often give the guests tours of Old City?’ she asks, matronizingly. ‘No ma’am, but I do visit often to pick up some goodbye gifts for our guests,’ she replies, honestly.

‘Do you know a lot of places?’ asks Mrs. Serman, excitedly.

‘A few places, ma’am,’ says Ananya. ‘Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?’ she adds, carefully blotting beads of sweat off her nose with her handkerchief.

‘No no, ma! I’m from here!’ says Mrs. Serman animatedly. ‘I just wanted to know if you knew about any of the places that I’ve been a customer of for the last forty years. Did you know…’

‘Mummy, stop showing off,’ comes a flat interjection from Keshav Serman.

His mother breaks off abruptly and quiets down. She looks a little bit flustered.

Keshav gives Ananya an apologetic grin and says, ‘Shopping is my mother’s biggest weakness.

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