Jatin strode into the room and stopped, seeing the stricken expression on Sonia’s face.
“Boss, what’s the matter?” he asked, instantly concerned.
“Jatin, I’m an idiot! And I have a confession to make. All along, I’ve been too concerned about my own emotions. I didn’t want to get too involved in this case for a simple reason. You see, I had a crush on Karan when we were in college together. And I was too scared and unnecessarily concerned that I would revive the old feelings.”
“A crush on Karan! Did he reject you?” Jatin asked, with delayed indignation.
“Of course not! He never even knew I had a crush! But that’s beside the point.”
“What’s the point, then?”
“The point is that I’ve been allowing my personal persuasions to override my better judgement as a detective.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means that I should have left my apprehensions in the past and concentrated on the case in hand, even if Karan was involved in it. And because I allowed my past to control my better judgement, today I don’t have my horoscopes in hand, as I normally would have, to experiment with my theories.”
“Aw, come on, Boss, you’re only human, like me!” Jatin grinned. “And since you’ve been so honest about your failure, let me give you a little reward.”
Sonia stared in confusion at the look of triumph on her assistant’s face. What exactly was Jatin up to?
He held up a plastic bag and with a flourish drew out a sheaf of papers.
“Are those…?” Sonia asked incredulously.
“Right, Boss. These are the horoscopes of Anup, Deepa, Karan, and Jaya!”
“I don’t believe this! You actually went and got them? You’re exceptional!”
“So are you, Boss. This is the least I can do as your Assistant.”
“You’ll get a raise for this, Jatin. You deserve it!”
“Thank you, Boss. Now can I leave you to it?”
But Sonia had already aligned the horoscope papers on the table. With a pleased smile, Jatin turned to the CD player and selected a violin instrumental. He turned on the volume and hastily stepped out of the office, with a complete sense of accomplishment.
Sonia took up each horoscope, staring at them in contemplation. Jaya, Anup, Deepa, and Karan. Artistic and talented, all of them. But of what use was their art now? Anup and Jaya were dead and Karan and Deepa were tainted with the brush of murder!
Then, suddenly, she stiffened. My God, she thought, this certainly was a perfect mutual murder - the culmination of a poignant romance! As the classical violin began its journey, Sonia’s heart began thudding, responding to the music and the discovery in the horoscope that was staring her in the face. Passing remarks and comments that she’d overheard that day replayed in her head, over the rising tones of the violin. She perched on her chair, her mind revolving like a giant wheel. The image of a string instrument being tuned flashed in her mind. A musician tightened each string for the perfect tone. He continued to tighten the string, till it became taut, and yet produced that perfect musical sound that he desired. This was what lay under these murders, she realised. Tightening of bonds, till they suffocated.
Without warning, the last scene of the play rose before her eyes as clearly as if she were seeing it again. The beauty of it struck her afresh. So wonderfully enacted, such powerful emotions, more meaningful because they were real. Every look the two actors gave each other, every moment of shared love, anxiety, and pain was real. She could admit that freely now. Because she could read those sentiments and the passion in their horoscopes. The strong attraction between Jaya and Anup was obvious in their charts. And now she understood, as clearly as if someone had announced it, what the mutual killing had achieved! Poetic justice for love… As the violin began its soulful crescendo, tears gushed down Sonia’s cheeks. A spontaneous response to a beautifully moving and masterfully rendered musical piece…
Jatin popped his head in through the door. “Boss? Karan’s here.”
Astonishment flickered on Sonia’s face as she hastily brushed away the tears. “Send him in.”
The door opened and the Director stepped inside, a trifle hesitantly.
“Sonia, I hope I’m not intruding on your time?”
“Not at all. Come right in and take a seat.” She gestured to a chair. “What brings you here?”
Lines of strain etched on his face did little to mar Karan’s good looks. His discomfort was obvious as he seated himself opposite her.
“I must talk to you. You’re the only one who would understand.”
“Understand what?” Her curiosity was at its peak. Apart from the mixed reaction to the presence of Karan - a symbol of her carefree younger days - in her office, she managed to keep her piqued interest in check.
“I’ve been thinking a lot. And I’m convinced that we are barking up the wrong tree. I mean, the money angle and hatred. The more I think of it, the more I realise that Anup and Jaya really and truly loved each other. But they had some insurmountable obstacles. That’s why they conspired a combined death, to overcome their irresolvable problems. And as a kind of poetic culmination to their love.”
Sonia sucked in a quick breath. The horoscopes she had
