A Will to Kill, стр. 59

‘I returned from Austria in 1996. Phillip seems to have been there much later. Do you know when?’

‘Between 2008 and 2012, I believe.’

‘Jacob Lopez was released from prison in late 2007. Like Phillip, he too was of Indian origin.’

When Athreya returned to the drawing room, he found Jilsy waiting for him. Ganesh, Varadan, Manu and Father Tobias were talking together in one corner, while Dora, Michelle and Richie were whispering to each other in another. Abbas was nowhere to be seen, and Sebastian had gone to talk to Bhaskar in the library.

‘Can I talk to you, Mr. Athreya?’ Jilsy asked in a small, frightened voice.

‘Of course, Jilsy.’ Athreya smiled. ‘Where would you like to talk?’

‘Somewhere private. Where nobody can hear or disturb us.’

‘We can go to my room or to yours, whichever you prefer. We may be interrupted in the study. Or else, we can walk outside.’

‘Outside?’ Jilsy gasped.

She took one look at the dark, gloomy night and shook her head. The fog was as thick as it had been on the night of the murder. Memories of that night were all too fresh in her memory.

‘Can we go to your room, if you don’t mind?’ she asked.

‘I’ll tell Ganesh and come.’

A minute later, they were in Athreya’s room, sitting in chairs facing each other.

‘What should we do, Mr. Athreya?’ she asked as soon as they were seated. ‘You told us not to speak about the mongrel, but Ganesh blurted it out. He is afraid too. More for me than for himself.’

‘Nothing,’ Athreya replied. ‘Do nothing. Don’t talk about it, but don’t avoid the subject either, at least in an obvious manner. If someone asks, Ganesh can say that he doesn’t remember when he had heard Phillip mention the mongrel’s name. He can probably say that he might have heard him speak over the phone to someone. That way, you will avoid the question of who Phillip was speaking to when he mentioned the mongrel.’

‘You think that will work?’ Jilsy asked doubtfully.

‘That’s the best you can do now. If you try avoiding the subject, people may think that you know more than you are letting on. That could be dangerous.’

‘I guess you’re right.’

‘And Ganesh should not say that you too overheard

Phillip.’

‘Yes.’ Jilsy nodded animatedly. ‘We understand that. Ganesh won’t make a mistake again. Thank you, Mr Athreya.’

‘If you have another fifteen minutes, I want to speak to you on another matter—alone and totally in private.’

Jilsy stared at him with large, round eyes and nodded slowly.

‘Now, for your sake, and that of your husband, I want you to not get up and run away in the middle of the conversation. It’s going to be a difficult one…perhaps harder than any conversation you’ve recently had. Understand?’

Jilsy nodded mutely, anxiety etched on her face.

‘Please understand that I am trying to help you. I know that you did not kill Phillip.’

Jilsy’s eyes became saucers. She stared at Athreya dumbstruck.

‘Jilsy,’ he said slowly, ‘I know that you went into the chapel on the night of the murder.’

A stifled cry escaped her and she recoiled, shrinking into the chair, trying to disappear into it. She stared at Athreya as if hypnotized, unable to tear her eyes away from his. He stared back at her. A full minute passed.

‘You went there a little after 1 a.m., didn’t you?’ Athreya asked softly.

That broke the spell. With a soft whimper, Jilsy buried her face in her hands and began sobbing silently. Her shoulders shook and her hair fell forward over her hands and face, hiding them.

‘Let me tell you a story, Jilsy,’ Athreya said in an avuncular manner. ‘You don’t need to look up at me. Just listen to what I say. It’s a story about a young, vivacious city girl; a girl who loved being with people, enjoyed being in the midst of things. She had a large circle of friends in Pune, and spent much of her time with them. She loved parties, travelling, shopping… everything that a lively young girl of her kind liked.

‘After she got married, she continued to enjoy herself. As an army wife, there was endless socializing to do, if she desired it. And she did. Life was a lovely, merry party.

‘But when she moved and settled in a place that was the back of beyond, life changed abruptly. There were no friends to speak of, no girls of her age or disposition. There was nowhere to go. No shops, no movies, no concerts, no gatherings, no malls…in short, no city. She got bored out of her skull, living day in and day out in this monotonous place.’

Jilsy had stopped sobbing, and was listening with her face still buried in her hands and her long tresses covering both.

‘Then, one day, out of sheer boredom, she grew venturesome. She broke the rules of marriage. She did something imprudent, risky. Something she would never have done had it not been for the boredom. She repented it immediately and was mortified. “Never again”, she told herself.

‘But boredom is a powerful thing. It is relentless. It slowly, but surely, crushes you. There came a time when she was tempted again. She succumbed, and broke the rules of marriage once more.

‘Again, she felt embarrassed, but this time it didn’t last for as long. She succumbed to temptation for a third time. It was becoming easier. Thrice she had broken the rules, and thrice, she had not been caught.

‘Alas, she took refuge from the unrelenting boredom in her little escapades, convincing herself that they were only temporary. She could stop it any time she wished, she told herself, and things would go back to how they were. But she was wrong.’

Jilsy lifted her face an inch or two from her hands, but did not look up. Her eyes looked downwards even as her ears took in every word Athreya said.

‘What she hadn’t realized was that people talk loosely. The ones she thought were her confidants were anything but. Soon, the valley knew about her escapades, and