Chapter 65
Shumi came to full consciousness the next day.
I didn’t see my sister-in-law the first day—given her groggy state, the doctors would only permit her immediate family.
The second day, however, both Ackerson and I managed to get in—and with a few patients having recently been moved onto a ward after they no longer needed the unit’s level of care, Shumi was the only patient there.
I waited a short distance away while Ackerson spoke to her with her father by her side.
“I’m very sorry to tell you, Mrs. Prasad,” Ackerson said in a tone that was gentler than I’d ever heard from her, “but we believe we’ve identified your husband’s remains alongside those of his parents.”
The air whooshed out of me.
I’d been hoping he was still alive—because, no matter what, that gave Ackerson a perfect suspect and took the spotlight off me.
A soft feminine wail, while Shumi’s father demanded, “How can you be sure? There was so much damage.”
“The lab will attempt DNA tests, but the nature of the remains means that can’t be guaranteed. He was identified through dental records.”
Ackerson sounded truly sorry when she said, “There really is no doubt.
Vihaan Prasad—Bobby—had an emergency root canal done in Japan while on a business trip five years ago.
The dental experts tell me the Japanese style is visibly different to ours.
His dentist also had more recent X-rays, which we were able to use for identification.
“Added to the fact that his car was on the premises, and the lack of any activity on either his business or personal accounts, as well as his phone, it’s conclusive that he died in the incident. But as I said, the team will make every attempt at a DNA match for the survivors’ peace of mind.”
Shumi was sobbing but trying to speak in between, nothing of her words making sense.
Ackerson was more patient than I expected but didn’t leave the room even when Shumi’s father asked her to. “I need to get your daughter’s witness statement while it’s fresh in her mind,” she replied.
At last, Shumi stopped sobbing. “Why didn’t Diya tell you?” A piteous question. “Why do I have to say?”
“I told you, beta,” her father said with an edge of impatience in his tone that made me want to shake him. “Diya is hurt. She can’t remember.”
“I don’t want to say.” Shumi’s voice was almost swallowed up by her tears. “I won’t say.”
“You have to,” her mother butted in. “We know what he did to you, beta.” Tears in her voice. “Please, Shumi. You don’t have to protect him anymore—I’m so sorry you thought you couldn’t come to me, but I’m here now. I’ll always be here.”
“No, no, I won’t.” Shumi’s breathing was fast and shallow. “We were so happy. We were all so happy.”
“I know,” Ackerson said in that same unexpectedly gentle tone. “But three people are dead, Shumi. Including Rajesh and Sarita, who I’m told treated you like a cherished daughter. And your best friend remains badly wounded.”
Sobbing, Shumi said, “Can I see her? Can I see Diya?”
I was ready for everyone to say no, but Ackerson instead stepped out to talk to the staff, and they made the arrangements to wheel Diya over from the ward for a strictly short visit.
The two women both burst into fresh tears at seeing each other, but there was an edge of hysterical happiness to it, the relief of two survivors coming face-to-face.
“Shumi, what happened?” Diya asked after the tears had passed. “All I can remember is the fire…and…” She pressed a hand over her abdomen. “I hurt here. So much.”
Shumi just shook her head, keeping her silence.
“Please,” Diya begged. “Please tell me.”
Tears rolling down her face again, Shumi turtled in on herself. “I want to be alone now. I don’t want to talk anymore.”
—
No one stopped me when, two hours later, after Diya had fallen into sleep, I made my way to Shumi’s bedside. Everyone else had already attempted to talk to her, but she’d shut down.
However, she was awake—and alone right then.
“I know you’re protecting Diya,” I said in a soft tone between us alone, the realization having come to me when she’d looked at Diya with agony on her face after my wife pleaded for answers.
Huge brown eyes holding my own. “She shouldn’t know,” Shumi whispered. “She should have her memories.”
“She already knows deep inside,” I said. “And, Shumi? It’s eating her up to not have any answers.”
Shumi bit down hard on her lower lip. “I don’t want to say, Tavish. If I don’t say, it’s not real.” Her eyes moved around the room before settling back on me. “But it is, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” I touched her hand. “You did everything you could to protect the family, Shumi.”
“I never told. I never said what Bobby did to me.” A rasping breath.
“Everyone loved Amma and Pitaji so much, and most of the time, everything was perfect. He loved me, he did—he always wanted to know where I was, was always interested in my life, kept track of all my friends and called me throughout the day to say hi.”
To hear of her twisted view of a healthy love made me hurt for the girl she’d been, unloved and emotionally abandoned.
“It would’ve hurt Amma and Pitaji so much if I’d told. Brought such shame to the family.”
My stomach churned at the reminder of Rajesh and Sarita’s perfect image, but aloud I said, “They’re not around to feel that shame anymore…and Diya will drown in her thoughts if she doesn’t get answers.”
Our eyes met, a quiet understanding passing between us of Diya’s fragile mental state.
Then Shumi sighed. “Okay. Okay.”
I didn’t celebrate yet. She could still backpedal. “Shall I call Ackerson over?” I’d seen the detective talking to Ajay and the elder Kumars in the waiting area. Probably hoping to find some way to get Shumi to open up.
“Yes. Just her and you, not my family.” A hardness to her as she said the last.
Two minutes later, when she began to speak, I realized I’d been wrong about her on one critical point. There was something Bobby could do that would turn her against him, and he’d done it the night of the party.
“I was pregnant. I did a home test, then another, told Bobby straightaway and he hugged me and spun me around and brought me pink roses.” Rough, husky words.
“I was so happy—and really doing my best not to show it at the engagement party because that was Diya’s moment and I wasn’t going to steal it.
“I thought we’d wait till I was past the first trimester to tell the family…
though I’d probably have slipped up with Diya.
” Her voice losing volume with each word.
“Then Bobby hit me in the stomach that night, after we got home from the party, and I started bleeding. It had stopped by morning, but I knew my precious baby was gone.” It came out flat, as if her anger was so deep that she couldn’t bear to feel it.
“He still made me go to Amma and Pitaji’s that morning, pretend everything was okay. It was like he didn’t even care that he’d murdered our child, like it meant nothing to him.”
“Here.” I put the straw to her lips so she could drink some water, give herself a break from the emotional grindstone.
“Thank you.” An automatic polite response before she drank.
After she was done, she went right back to it, as if now that she’d started, she had to finish.
“I was outside looking at the lake with Diya while he spoke to Amma and Pitaji. When we walked back in, they were lying on the floor, and he had a knife in his hand.” Her breathing sped up.
“He shoved Diya so hard she fell against something—maybe a table?—and got dazed. That’s when he stabbed me. ”
“Do you know why your husband turned violent?” Ackerson asked.
“I didn’t know till we got home the previous night, but his finance person had called him before the party, told him that he’d run all the numbers again but there was no choice—he’d have to file for bankruptcy.”
I thought I was good at wearing masks, but Bobby had given not a single hint of stress or panic that night, just a big brother there to celebrate his sister’s engagement.
Making plans for a fishing trip, standing beside his father while Rajesh bragged of his accomplishments, kissing Diya on the forehead with protective tenderness.
Her voice gone raw, stripped down to the core, Shumi said, “Bobby was so proud. He loved that he could give me the life we had, loved that even though he hadn’t had the grades to do medicine, his parents boasted about him being a successful businessman.
” A gulping sob. “He loved how Diya looked up to him.”
There was more.
Shumi had managed to stay conscious long enough to see Bobby attacking Diya, then leaving her for dead, as he’d left Shumi.
“Blood in my eyes, everything red, Diya’s dress turning the same color.” Horror in her face as she moved her hands as if trying to stanch her bandaged wounds. “I don’t know about the fire or about going into the lake. I didn’t see. I don’t remember.”
“That’s fine, Shumi,” Ackerson said. “What you’ve given us is plenty.”
“Do you know about Rhiannon?” Shumi asked in a sudden burst. “I believed him when he said he didn’t have anything to do with her death. I always believed him.” Her sobs were heartrending. “He was my husband.” A whisper wrapped in tears. “I believed him.”
I put my arm around her, looked at Ackerson.
Who said, “I think we’re done here for now.” She stepped out, her phone in hand, but she was still nearby when I left Shumi ten minutes later.
Her family had rushed in after the detective left, but she’d leaned into me instead, so I’d stayed. Until, at last, she fell into an emotionally exhausted sleep. Her mother had looked at me. “She trusts you, a near stranger, more than she trusts us.” It was less an accusation and more a confession.
There was nothing I could say to that, because it was true.
So I’d said nothing, just touched Ajay on the shoulder before I left.
“What will I tell Diya?” I said to Ackerson when we met by the empty waiting area outside the ICU. Knowing her brother had done this, annihilated their whole family—it would destroy her.
White lines bracketed Ackerson’s mouth. “I don’t envy you. Men like that, I wish they’d just take themselves out, but they always murder the innocent, too.”
“I read about family annihilation,” I admitted now that I was no longer a suspect. “I couldn’t understand how anyone could murder their entire family, was trying to figure it out.”
“Psychobabble bullshit is that they’re narcissists who believe no one will be able to go on under the circumstances, so death is the kinder choice.
” She twisted her lips. “At least your brother-in-law had the grace to end his own pathetic life, too. A lot of that kind—and it’s nearly always men—flinch when it comes to their own life. Cowards.”
I would’ve never used that word for Bobby, but what other one was there?
Coward. Killer. Murderer.
That was now Vihaan “Bobby” Prasad’s final legacy.
“And to think,” Ackerson said, “I was beginning to lean away from him as the suspect. He was in negotiations with a possible business partner—we spoke to the man, and he said that while things were dire with the business, it wasn’t beyond redemption.
“Guy was willing to stump up the necessary cash for a majority stake, and they’d worked out what had gone wrong so it wouldn’t be repeated. Had a whole five-year plan mapped out to not just put Elektrik Ninja in the black, but expand it into Australia.”
“He’d have lost control,” I said, thinking about how he’d monitored every aspect of Shumi’s life, how he’d followed Diya when she went on dates. “Someone else would’ve been the boss.”
Ackerson shrugged. “Yeah. You’re probably right.
It’ll all come out in the inquest down the road, I’m sure.
But on my end, the case is closed—Shumi’s account explains everything.
Bobby Prasad must have started the fire, then taken his own life, not realizing he hadn’t managed to kill Diya and Shumi. ”
I decided to follow Ackerson’s lead. No one, least of all my wife, needed to know my suspicions about her parents. Sarita, Rajesh, Bobby, they were all in the past.
As were Susanne, Jocelyn, and Virna.
It was done. Finished.