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Diya examined it for a long time before she turned to me with tears in her eyes.
“Yes,” she said. “This is her.”
I exhaled slowly as I realised that there was no going back now. We had chosen to go down this path, and we had to see this through because now that we had found out who the woman was, neither Diya nor I could let her go unavenged.
“Where did you find this photograph?”
“Kirori Ji made enquiries about possible missing women in the area, and this woman’s friend says that she hasn’t been able to contact her for the past four days. Her husband says she went to her mother’s house but according to her friend, her mother died three years ago.”
Diya sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at me questioningly.
“What do we do now? How can we prove she’s dead?”
“We have to work on the husband. He’s Ayush’s aide, so he has to know something. I’ll have someone dig up some dirt on him that we might be able to leverage to make him talk.”
She nodded slowly.
“Thank you for taking this seriously, Dheer. I can’t believe you found her identity so soon!”
“It was all Kirori Ji’s doing, Diya,” I replied.
An hour ago, after I washed off the turmeric paste I was slathered in, I dressed for the mehendi, which was being held in the same mandap on the lawns. But before I could go out, Ramsingh informed me that Kirori Ji was waiting for me in my study. I wondered what the sarpanch wanted and why it couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
“Where are you going now?” asked Isha, walking past me with a tray of mehendi cones.
“I’ll only be a minute,” I promised her before I entered my study.
“Uff! You’ll be late for your own mehendi, Bhai Sa. That’s simply not done. Your bride will be furious. Achha, have you thought of a wedding present for Diya?”
“I’ll think of something,” I said hastily as I pushed the door open.
Kirori Ji stood up to greet me with joined hands.
“Khamma Ghani, Hukum. Badhai ho,” he said, with a grin.
I thanked him politely and waited for him to get to the point.
He handed me a photograph.
“What’s this?” I asked, reaching for it.
“A wedding present for the new Maharani of Trikhera. Please ask her if this is the woman who was murdered.”
“Who is this woman?”
“Her name is Sheela Devi. She is the wife of one of Ayush Goel’s aides, Manto Singh. Rumour has it that she hasn’t been seen around the village for the past four days. Her husband says she’s gone to visit her mother, but according to my sources, her mother died three years ago. She is the only woman unaccounted for in the villages around Trikhera, Hukum.”
“Thank you so much, Kirori Ji. I appreciate the help.”
“Don’t thank me, Hukum. It’s the least I can do for you,” he said kindly. “Because you did more for us in the past nine years than the government has ever done. We have good schools, colleges, clean drinking water and hospitals because of you.”
I shook my head because he didn’t know that no matter what I did for them, I could never make up for what my father had done to Trikhera. I pushed those unpleasant thoughts away because this was not the time to be thinking about the past. I was trying to build a better future with my new wife.
“I’ll let you know if Her Highness wants to pursue this further,” I replied, referring to the photograph.
And going by the expression on Her Highness’ face, I knew she did want that - more than anything on earth. Just like that, I knew what my wedding present to her was going to be. I sighed at the thought of going down a path that I had turned away from years ago.
“Ask your assistant to email your travel schedule to my secretary. They can figure out our travel dates,” I said cheekily, knowing it would distract Diya long enough for me to make my escape.
