economy.”
Inspector Divekar nodded. “For the first time to-night, I can see some signs of our famous monsoon rains coming on. Are you sure you won't try some of this
Biryani
? It's delicious!”
Sonia smiled. “No thanks, I'm a strict vegetarian. And as it is, I'm full! Thank you for a wonderful treat in this charming place!”
Sonia glanced around at the beautifully decorated restaurant. Located along the curving green banks of the Mula River, the restaurant was aptly called Mula Retreat and served traditional Maharashtrian food. The décor was rustic, with coir mattresses adorning the mud walls, in criss-cross patterns. A bullock cart rested in the corner of the huge hall, where children played, creating sounds with sticks on the wooden wheels. Waiters in white
dhoti
s—loin cloths—kurtas, and small white caps moved around, with food placed in cane baskets, matching the Maharashtrian mood and ambience.
Sonia and Jatin had thoroughly enjoyed the food—
bhakri
made of sorghum flour and crushed chilies along with curds and the spicy gram gravy called
pithla.
Inspector Divekar had insisted on taking the two of them out to dinner, to this new restaurant. They had arrived a little early, so as to enjoy the idyllic location and the cool evening breeze. Mula Retreat was sandwiched between sugarcane and sorghum fields on one side and an open grazing plot on the other where cows and sheep grazed. The metal bells of the cows tinkled melodiously. Local fishermen, in their tiny red and blue wooden boats, who had thrown in their nets for fishing in the rippling water, were now returning home with their haul. The river and the Babul and Neem trees, bathed in the golden-pink glow of the setting sun, sparkled with a dreamy, almost surreal effect.
An ideal evening for meditation and romance,
Sonia had thought. But, without warning, the weather had changed and a cold black blanket had enveloped the entire city.
Thunder rumbled again as Jatin remarked, “The weather's perfect for this kind of spicy food.”
“Also perfect to commit crimes,” Inspector Divekar added, as he polished off his
Biryani.
He looked quite distinguished in a comfortable sky-blue cotton shirt and black trousers.
Sonia smiled. “Trust you to equate a beautiful romantic night with crime!”
“Romantic? This is a setting for criminals! On a night like this, criminals find their way easily and effortlessly to their victims and their loot! I'm positive we'll have a whole list of new cases tomorrow morning at the Police Station.”
“You're right, I suppose. But good criminals, like good Investigators, can strike anytime, anyplace,” Sonia reminded.
“Absolutely. Take the Owl, for instance.”
“The crook who's supposed to have stolen the Kerkar jewels,” Sonia recalled. Mohnish Rai's voice and face, delivering the news on TV, rose in her mind. And she didn't at all appreciate the way her mind automatically supplied these images!
“Yes, the Owl. I'm certain he has the Kerkar diamonds. He's an amazing man, though I've never had the good fortune of interacting with him. You never know when he'll display his skill and talent. He's so perfect in the implementation of his ‘schemes' that he has successfully evaded being caught by the police.”
“So far,” Sonia added.
“Going by his track record, I doubt if he'll ever get caught. He's going to be one of those criminals who just fade away, simply vanish! Never to be seen or heard of again. But, of course, that won't be for a long time still. I'm sure he has yet to accomplish many more feats!” Inspector Divekar prophesied.
Sonia shrugged. “I'm afraid I'm no authority on the Owl. I doubt if our paths will ever cross.”
The waiter arrived with the bill and the Inspector dropped a five hundred rupee note on the tray. Then all three of them hastened to Sonia's parked van. Soon they were out on the street, the tar road sparkling white in the dim streetlights.
“I wouldn't like to be caught
Inspector Divekar nodded. “For the first time to-night, I can see some signs of our famous monsoon rains coming on. Are you sure you won't try some of this
Biryani
? It's delicious!”
Sonia smiled. “No thanks, I'm a strict vegetarian. And as it is, I'm full! Thank you for a wonderful treat in this charming place!”
Sonia glanced around at the beautifully decorated restaurant. Located along the curving green banks of the Mula River, the restaurant was aptly called Mula Retreat and served traditional Maharashtrian food. The décor was rustic, with coir mattresses adorning the mud walls, in criss-cross patterns. A bullock cart rested in the corner of the huge hall, where children played, creating sounds with sticks on the wooden wheels. Waiters in white
dhoti
s—loin cloths—kurtas, and small white caps moved around, with food placed in cane baskets, matching the Maharashtrian mood and ambience.
Sonia and Jatin had thoroughly enjoyed the food—
bhakri
made of sorghum flour and crushed chilies along with curds and the spicy gram gravy called
pithla.
Inspector Divekar had insisted on taking the two of them out to dinner, to this new restaurant. They had arrived a little early, so as to enjoy the idyllic location and the cool evening breeze. Mula Retreat was sandwiched between sugarcane and sorghum fields on one side and an open grazing plot on the other where cows and sheep grazed. The metal bells of the cows tinkled melodiously. Local fishermen, in their tiny red and blue wooden boats, who had thrown in their nets for fishing in the rippling water, were now returning home with their haul. The river and the Babul and Neem trees, bathed in the golden-pink glow of the setting sun, sparkled with a dreamy, almost surreal effect.
An ideal evening for meditation and romance,
Sonia had thought. But, without warning, the weather had changed and a cold black blanket had enveloped the entire city.
Thunder rumbled again as Jatin remarked, “The weather's perfect for this kind of spicy food.”
“Also perfect to commit crimes,” Inspector Divekar added, as he polished off his
Biryani.
He looked quite distinguished in a comfortable sky-blue cotton shirt and black trousers.
Sonia smiled. “Trust you to equate a beautiful romantic night with crime!”
“Romantic? This is a setting for criminals! On a night like this, criminals find their way easily and effortlessly to their victims and their loot! I'm positive we'll have a whole list of new cases tomorrow morning at the Police Station.”
“You're right, I suppose. But good criminals, like good Investigators, can strike anytime, anyplace,” Sonia reminded.
“Absolutely. Take the Owl, for instance.”
“The crook who's supposed to have stolen the Kerkar jewels,” Sonia recalled. Mohnish Rai's voice and face, delivering the news on TV, rose in her mind. And she didn't at all appreciate the way her mind automatically supplied these images!
“Yes, the Owl. I'm certain he has the Kerkar diamonds. He's an amazing man, though I've never had the good fortune of interacting with him. You never know when he'll display his skill and talent. He's so perfect in the implementation of his ‘schemes' that he has successfully evaded being caught by the police.”
“So far,” Sonia added.
“Going by his track record, I doubt if he'll ever get caught. He's going to be one of those criminals who just fade away, simply vanish! Never to be seen or heard of again. But, of course, that won't be for a long time still. I'm sure he has yet to accomplish many more feats!” Inspector Divekar prophesied.
Sonia shrugged. “I'm afraid I'm no authority on the Owl. I doubt if our paths will ever cross.”
The waiter arrived with the bill and the Inspector dropped a five hundred rupee note on the tray. Then all three of them hastened to Sonia's parked van. Soon they were out on the street, the tar road sparkling white in the dim streetlights.
“I wouldn't like to be caught
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