Mumbai Noir

10

The imposing gates of the Kapoor mansion loomed before us, a stark contrast to the modest homes that lined the streets of Bombay. Nervousness gnawed at me as we were ushered into a foyer that oozed opulence. Marble floors gleamed under the crystal chandeliers, and gilded furniture sat strategically around the expansive space.

A stern-faced woman in a starched white uniform announced Mr. Kapoor's absence, citing an urgent business call. The news sent a jolt of suspicion through me.  A missing daughter, and the father was busy wheeling and dealing?

We were ushered into a waiting room, its plush sofas and mahogany table doing little to ease the tension that crackled in the air.  Newspapers sprawled across the coffee table displayed headlines about Ayushi's disappearance, a constant reminder of the gravity of the situation.

As we waited, a snippet of a conversation from a nearby room drifted through the air. It was about a bitter family dispute years ago, how Vikram Kapoor had allegedly abandoned his own father to secure control of the family business.

Minutes stretched into an eternity before a man who bore a striking resemblance to Ayushi entered the room.  Vikram Kapoor, tall and impeccably dressed, exuded an aura of power and control.  However, his eyes held a flicker of weariness, a stark contrast to the arrogance I expected.

"Mr. Kapoor," I began, my voice steely. "We appreciate you taking the time to meet with us."

He offered a curt nod, his gaze flitting back to his wristwatch.  "Of course," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Anything to bring my daughter home."

His detached demeanor felt off-putting.  A missing child should evoke a father's anguish, not a businessman's calculated response.  "We understand you were on a business trip when Ayushi disappeared," I stated, hoping to gauge his reaction.

"Yes," he confirmed, glancing at his phone. "Important negotiations. But I'm back now, and I've mobilized all resources to find her."

His words held an air of practiced sincerity, but I sensed a deeper layer beneath the surface.  Before I could delve further, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway.  A woman, her face etched with worry, rushed into the room.

Mrs. Kapoor.  The moment I laid eyes on her, I was struck by her beauty.  Her elegantly styled hair framed a face lined with despair.  Despite the elegance of her attire, she looked every bit a woman on the verge of collapse.

A pang of guilt shot through me as I realized I'd been scrutinizing Mr. Kapoor, neglecting the woman who was likely bearing the brunt of their daughter's disappearance.

"Mr. Kapoor," I said, clearing my throat. "Perhaps it would be best if we spoke with Mrs. Kapoor privately."

Vikram, his gaze flitting between me and his wife, seemed hesitant for a moment before nodding curtly.  "Of course," he mumbled, his phone pressed back to his ear. "I'll be in my study if you need anything."

With that, he exited the room, leaving Mrs. Kapoor and a suffocating silence in his wake.  I offered her a reassuring smile, my professional demeanour momentarily forgotten.

"Mrs. Kapoor," I began gently, "we understand this is a difficult time for you.  We're here to help find Ayushi."

Before I could continue, a choked sob escaped her lips.  Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over like a dam overflowing.  My heart ached for her, the image of a distraught mother etched deeply in my mind.

Patil, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, excused himself, fetching a glass of water.  I offered Mrs. Kapoor a tissue, my voice soft as I spoke.  "Please, take a deep breath.  We need your help to find Ayushi."

She held my hand, I felt intimated by it, I felt warm inside.

Her sobs subsided into sniffles, and she wiped her tears with a trembling hand.  "It's all my fault," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I should have been stricter with her, kept a closer eye."

I assured her it wasn't her fault, but the doubt lingered in her eyes.  As she composed herself, I began asking questions.  "Did Ayushi have any problems at school?  Did she fight with anyone, or confide in you about any threats?"

She shook her head, her gaze distant. "No, nothing like that.  She was a good girl, always focused on her studies."

"Did you suspect anyone?" I pressed gently.

A flicker of anger crossed her features. "The Sharmas,"

Patil and I nodded, then we were about to leave but she told me to wait for a moment, Patil was asked to leave, I felt nervous but then she took her purse and took out my visiting cards once gave her in the party she lost her daughter, there was her autograph, she whsipered in my ears "Please help me, Vikram, my Vikram couldn’t help me I hope this Vikram helps me,"

How did she know my name wasn't Ragu? How did she get my another fake name Vikram? And was she just flirting with me? There were a lot of questions but not just about Ayushi but about my own life.

"Anytime you need me, come over," she said.