‘Do you know who this is?’ The voice at the other end was vaguely familiar. I couldn’t place it at first. Nor the sharpness of unease that followed immediately after.
Without waiting for my response, as if confident that I would indeed know who it was, the speaker continued.
‘Can we meet at, say, 4 p.m. today?’ This was when it came to me, where I’d heard that voice. On two occasions, actually.
The first one—a memory trawled from the depths of my subconscious—at a national beauty pageant, almost three years ago. But more recently, while listening to a radio talk show featuring superstars of the silver screen. Yes, that voice was certainly familiar.
Saurav Roop Kamal, actor and Bollywood superstar, was at the other end of the line, demanding we meet. How could I possibly refuse?
First things first. You might be familiar with my name.
I’m Akruti Rai, one half of the Akruti–Parvati Private Investigators duo, the central (the media prefers ‘celebrity’) detectives in our global firm currently. But this is 1998 I’m telling you of—the kind of reputation and trust we enjoy at present was yet to be established as firmly as it is now. We were still finding our feet as investigators in the India of the late Nineties. And we were so young.
It was true, our first case at solving some particularly gruesome murders at the nation’s biggest beauty pageant, Miss Glamour Princess 1995, had propelled us into the limelight overnight. It had given our fledgling venture unbelievable momentum and a rather high-visibility public profile. Add to that my partner Parvati Samant’s RAW connections (her father was chief of the national security agency, her brother pretty high up on the chain too). And my own erstwhile career as a supermodel with the ‘right’ contacts, no wonder we were being singled out so, for both attention and advice.
That first case had gotten us the credibility to attract a cross section of clients, among them those from the nation’s upper strata who valued discretion and privacy to showmanship. Their business had cemented our reputation over the intervening years in a way that allowed us to grow in both stature and merit, in a relatively short timeframe.
Indeed, we had done well by most standards, in procuring the more baffling and darker cases of the day. Also, having solved them to our patrons’ satisfaction in the three years leading up to this curt phone call by the superstar, we enjoyed an unshakable trust in certain circles.
But I was uneasy, had felt so the moment I heard Saurav Roop Kamal’s well-practised baritone drawl out that confident query, ‘Do you know who this is?’ Such was the level of his blinding fame at the time, he seemed absolutely assured that anyone in India would most certainly recognize his voice in an unannounced phone call. In fact, back then his celebrityhood was riding the crest of such a wave, he had adoring fans slit wrists and build temples in his name.
‘Yes, indeed I do, Mr Kamal,’ I had replied, making sure to keep the wariness out of my voice. ‘Who wouldn’t know Bollywood’s reigning superstar Saurav Roop Kamal—or as the rest of the world often says, SRK?’
‘Actually, I prefer my second name, Roop,’ he had drawled out. ‘Don’t go by the other, less familiar colloquialism. The abbreviated name is RK, as the Indian mainstream media calls me!’
‘Fine, RK then,’ I had indulged him, but the unease persisted, despite my light-hearted tone.
So why was I troubled when I should’ve been rejoicing at this call from so very famous a potential client? Our cases up until then, barring our first at the beauty pageant, had been of the more discreet sort, even if the clients involved had been illustrious. The incredible publicity wave that followed us initially had calmed after the first few months. In fact, our current reputation was built on our deduction abilities, more than any overt press attention.
However, RK’s business, if it came through, promised tremendous visibility, never a bad thing for a profession like ours. If this meeting he wanted turned him into a client, it would be the first high-profile case of its kind in our business together. (Our first case at the beauty pageant had been high profile too, but we weren’t full-fledged detectives then!)
In fact, our initial case had a connect to him in a bizarre manner—I won’t go into details here, because I’ve written about it and I don’t want to give out spoilers to those who’d like to read that and haven’t yet got around to it.
As I finished that 1995 pageant story (for those who have read it), I wrote of how our chance meeting with RK at the time lead to RK’s calling us now, omitting to elaborate more.
I cursorily called it our ‘first’ case, rather than our first ‘high profile’ case as detectives, given the focus then was not RK.
But now—three years later—it most certainly was, and my present wariness at RK’s call went deeper than the oddity of that past career connect. Now, looking back, this case seemed ominous from the very beginning. I’ve always had a sense for what is seemingly out of place—call it a sixth sense if you will. Despite the practised charm, and that artless, unthreatening query, in that very first call his voice seemed … foreboding?
Regardless, I went ahead and accepted the 4 p.m. appointment. I was a detective, this was my profession. I had handled a number of complicated cases with Parvati till then.
He was a megastar requesting a simple audience. In spite of any shadowy misgivings and the prickle of disturbance I already felt—how could I refuse?
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