Helen Goes for Mr. Sunday

Who is Mr. Sunday?: Part 8

"Well, who's to know?" said Vinay, throwing his hand in the air, turning away from Helen.

"What?!" said Helen. "So you don't know how she died?"

"Look, no one was around when she died, so no one can tell for sure. But since I was the person that was in touch with her toward the very end, I'd like to think mine's the best theory."

"Which is what?" said Helen, slightly nervously.

Vinay hoisted himself up and sat atop the railing of the bridge.

"After I proposed to her, all she could think of was getting married to me. She came out of her shell and started trying on nice clothes and wearing makeup," said Vinay. "Not that it made her look any less dreadful, but that's another matter."

"I don't need your editorial comments" said Helen, her tone cold. "Just state the facts."

Vinay chuckled. "She almost stopped eating in order to get in shape for the wedding, and that's where the problem started."

Helen closed her eyes.

"That's what anorexia does to you--you think you are overeating and getting fat, whereas in reality you may be malnourished," said Vinay.

"I know that."

"I used to visit her during those times to get a power of attorney done in my name--she was completely smitten with me, and I wanted to milk it--and I'd force her to eat. But I was away for a while, during which time she was left practically unmonitored."

"I tried calling her, but her phone was dead for several days toward the end."

"That's because the phone is with me--she left it with me before leaving for her Vipassana course, and after she came back, I didn't return it to her on some flimsy pretext, so the tenants that I drove away from your Bandra property wouldn't be able to get in touch with her," said Vinay. "She probably became too weak toward the end because of the starvation and wasn't able to get out of the room to ask for help. That mosquito net in your room--it can be a task getting out of that if you have no strength left in your body."

"You are responsible for her death," snapped Helen, flaring her nostrils. "And I'm going to be responsible for yours." she continued, limbering up her shoulders.

"Oh, please. If anything, I made her last days beautiful for her," said Vinay, dismissively. "And no one's dying tonight. Unless, of course, you suck the life out of me if you know what I mean."

Helen fell silent for a few moments and took a couple of backward steps.

"All this makes no sense. Why didn't she ever mention to me any of this?"

"How could she? I banged her hairy ass once just to make a sex movie--if you can call that sex--and used it to shut her mouth for good," said Vinay. "The good old blackmail trick. Never fails."

Helen's fingers clenched into a fist, and her face twisted in fury. 

"I have that video on my phone. You want to take a look?" said Vinay, pulling out his mobile phone and pressing some keys. "In fact, I'd love to show you my collection to get you warmed up. I'm quite possibly the most prolific filmmaker ever. My phone could be a porn site's server!"

Vinay held his phone in Helen's direction. A video gallery application was open, with large thumbnails of the videos.

As Helen looked at the screen, her eyes widened in repugnance. She moved her hand over her mouth and gagged.

"You fucking bastard!" screamed Helen. "I can bet a lot of these are minor boys and girls!"

"Sure they are."