Jackpot Jetty Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Jackpot Jetty

  A Chupplejeep Mystery

  Marissa de Luna

  Murder, mayhem and Goan village life

  Copyright © 2018 Marissa de Luna

  All rights reserved.

  Lost Button Publishing

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, without the prior written permission in writing of the author.

  The author’s moral rights have been asserted.

  This is a work of fiction. All persons appearing in this written work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by JD&J

  For Nathan

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘Where are you, Ranjit?’ Talika said as she peered out of the villa. The sun had risen and the thick layer of fog hovering over the lake was dispersing.

  She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and stepped onto the porch. She looked around at the still houses and called out for him. Only her echo answered. Talika found her chappals, slipped them on her feet and made her way to the water’s edge. ‘Enjoying your swim?’ she called to Arjun. She couldn’t help but admire his toned body. Just the sight of his broad back made her cheeks colour.

  She passed two boys playing in the lake as she walked towards the jetty, her arms folded over her chest, thinking about her useless husband. How many evenings had he been picked up by one of his friends and brought back to her door, drunk and pathetic. The guests would be arriving soon, expecting a boat ride around the lake.

  ‘Where’s the boat?’ she said out loud as she walked along the rickety wooden structure.

  ‘Looking for Jackpot?’ a voice boomed behind her.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, turning to Arjun. ‘I didn’t see you get out of the water.’

  Arjun wrapped a thin towel around his waist; she followed a drop of water as it made its way from his chest towards his navel, then, realising that she was staring, she quickly dropped her gaze to her feet. She ignored Arjun’s question, not knowing how to answer.

  ‘But look at the boat,’ she said, raising her eyes and pointing to the middle of the lake. ‘How the hell did the boat get all the way over there? I don’t know how he’ll get it back. He’s not young anymore.’

  ‘Maybe kids,’ Arjun said, ‘or maybe those people.’ He looked in the direction of the concrete tower and bamboo scaffold that had been steadily rising since Christmas. ‘The labourers are from out of town, not from Goa. They don’t know how to behave. But don’t worry. I’ll get the boat back for you.’

  Before Talika knew it, he had whipped off his towel and plunged back into the water. She lowered herself onto the jetty, dangling her feet over the lake. In minutes, Arjun had reached the boat, and in one swift movement, he had heaved himself into the wooden vessel. But, once inside, he froze. Talika could see by the way his body stiffened that something was wrong. She jumped to her feet.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she shouted.

  No answer.

  ‘What’s wrong? What’s wrong?’ she screamed, but Arjun didn’t move. The children who had been splashing about stopped and looked at her. ‘Go see,’ she hissed at them. ‘Go see what’s wrong with uncle.’

  The boys started swimming out, but Arjun stood up in the boat and held out his hand. ‘No,’ his voice resounded, ‘stay there.’ He squatted and started rowing the boat towards the her. As it approached, Talika took a step towards the edge of the jetty. She let out a small gasp.

  Inside the boat was a lifeless body; she could tell by the greyish skin tinged with purple. The sight of this made the hairs on the back of her arms stand on end. Her hands began to tremble and her legs shook. She felt an immense pressure on her chest, and she found that she couldn’t breathe.

  ‘Go and fetch your parents. Tell them there’s been an accident,’ she heard Arjun instruct the boys. They stood up, their shorts and vests dripping with water, and ran towards the settlement.

  ‘Who is it?’ Talika mumbled, even though she knew exactly who it was.

  Arjun shifted so that Talika could get a better view of the body.

  Talika let out a groan. Her legs gave way before she slipped into the water.

  CHAPTER TWO

  At 4:00 pm on Thursday afternoon, following the celebrations of Holi, Detective Arthur Chupplejeep slammed shut the boot of his trusty old Maruti.

  Inspector General Gosht had not been too pleased with the detective’s last-minute request for leave, but the festival of colour had finished without any disturbances, and crime in Larara was pretty much non-existent. The summer had been particularly hot, with temperatures reaching forty degrees at times. It was too hot for anyone to work – even criminals.

  Gosht had no excuse. He granted Chupplejeep the fortnight off and left Police Officer Pankaj Deshpande in charge. And it was about time that he was, thought Chupplejeep. Pankaj was a daydreamer but he was a quick learner too, and he had proven his worth in the successful resolution of a recent blackmail case. The detective smiled with pride.

  Detective Chupplejeep took the road out of Little Larara, across the Mandovi Bridge, and headed through Panaji, along the Miramar-Dona Paula highway. He passed the Nagalli Hills colony and its whitewashed houses on his left and a sprawling five-star hotel on his right and headed towards leafy Bambolim. Not many people knew, but to the east of Dona Paula there was a beautiful lake next to a handful of waterfront properties.

  Chupplejeep had been a frequent visitor to the lake when he was younger. It was here that he had come to realise that Nana wasn’t going to return him to the orphanage as he anticipated – that he was as much a part of her life as she was of his. But after Nana’s death, he had stopped visiting. Now the key to the big brass padlock on the bungalow door sat securely in his pocket, reminding him of the past – fishing off the rickety jetty, eating samosas with Dilip and Luis and watching kingfishers swoop and
dive into the lake to catch their supper. He had hoped to share all this with Christabel one day, but his love life was in a bit of a predicament. Ha, a bit of a predicament was putting it mildly; it was thoroughly in the toilet.

  Their wedding had been all set for the 29th of February. That extra day in the year that everyone in Goa said was jinxed, but with a cheap deal on the wedding venue, he had convinced her otherwise. And it was all going so well, until it wasn’t. His commitment issues had got the better of him, and just one month before the wedding, with a convenient excuse to hide behind, he had called the whole thing off. Christabel had been giving him the silent treatment ever since, but finally, after months of cajoling, she had agreed to come to the lake house. And this was his chance to make it right between them.

  As the sun rose, Chupplejeep reached the top of the hill and caught a glimpse of the lake between the trees. A tranquil oasis of peace amidst the busy city. The trees wouldn’t hold out too much longer, and he prayed that the rains would come early this year or that a summer storm would break the oppressive heat and hydrate the parched ground. He felt a lightness in his chest. The lake was home away from home, and he was glad to be back. But as his car descended the steep decline, past the large white house that towered over the lake, towards the body of water, he saw that this remote and unknown spot by the water was no longer a hidden gem of Goa. There were signs to a yoga retreat that promised healing from the inside, and as he approached the lake, he could see a monolithic concrete structure rising from the ground. A hotel was being built to bring hordes of tourists in. One of the few untouched spots of Goa was about to be ruined.

  ~

  Chupplejeep pulled up on a side street, away from the lake, took his bag from the car and made his way to Nana’s bungalow, which was sandwiched between Prasad’s and Mendoca’s properties. He took in deep lungfuls of fresh air as he walked, pushing back the thorny branches of the evergreen kanga bushes, with their bright crimson fruits, that had grown over the path. He wondered how Christabel would cope in the two-room bungalow, with its basic stove and plain wet-room. He hoped she wouldn’t want to make too many changes. The simple nature of the lake house added to its charm, but he wasn’t sure she would see it like that. He shook away the thought. There wasn’t anything he could do about it now. He would just have to wait to see her reaction. Arriving at the front door, he dropped his bag and retrieved the key from his pocket. He tried it in the rusty lock, wiggling it around a little until it finally clicked open. As he opened the door, a large black bandicoot scooted past him towards the lake, brushing past his legs and making him jump. Chupplejeep shuddered. He hoped the large rodent hadn’t made a nest for himself and his family in the property.

  He stepped through the door, took off his shoes and found the fuse box. After switching on the electricity, he started opening the windows. The house smelled dank and fusty. He heard shouts, then a splash. Kids, he thought, envying their carefree attitude. They didn’t have to worry about jilted lovers and unsolved crimes.

  He stepped back outside onto the patio to collect his bag and to see what the commotion was. Two boys scuttled past him into the house next door. Moments later, Dilip Mendoca appeared and started walking swiftly towards the lake.

  ‘Boss,’ Chupplejeep shouted.

  Dilip stopped in his tracks and looked up. ‘Arey wah. My good friend! Here after so long.’

  Chupplejeep smiled.

  ‘And just at the right time, it appears. Actually, your timing is impeccable. But I can’t stop to chit-chat… Why don’t you come along?’

  Chupplejeep raised an eyebrow. ‘Where?’

  ‘Come with me. You might be of some use.’

  ‘Use?’

  ‘You’re still a detective, no?’

  Chupplejeep nodded warily.

  ‘The boys say they’ve found a body.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  Chupplejeep followed Dilip as he pushed his way through the crowd. When they got to the pier, there were two bodies lying on the deck. One of them was moving.

  ‘He’s dead,’ said a voice from the crowd.

  ‘Arjun,’ Dilip said, looking at the tall man, ‘this is my old-time friend, Arthur Chupplejeep…Detective Chupplejeep. He’s a cop.’

  ‘A cop, is it?’ a woman said from behind them.

  ‘Not just a cop. A first-class detective!’ Dilip said, ignoring the woman and directing his words to Arjun.

  ‘Detective, is it?’ said the woman.

  ‘He used to come here as a child. Nana’s son,’ another voice said from the throng of people behind them. ‘He caught that serial killer. He’s that cop.’

  ‘…the one who wouldn’t take the bribe in Panaji. He got a transfer to some village in Utorda,’ a man shouted.

  ‘Not Utorda – Porvorim side,’ another voice said.

  Chupplejeep wondered if these people also knew what colour chuddies he had put on that morning.

  ‘What happened to Talika?’ Dilip asked Arjun as he looked at the woman lying on the jetty. Chupplejeep noticed his friend eye Arjun with some suspicion as he asked this. He had the feeling that most men were guarded around this man. Chupplejeep could see that Arjun was attractive, and without a wedding ring, it made him a dangerous man indeed.

  ‘She fell in the water with the shock,’ Arjun said.

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Dilip said, his American-Indian accent putting in an appearance. Chupplejeep cringed, remembering how Dilip was keen to tell everyone he was a ‘U.S. return’ after finishing his studies there. In India, having lived abroad was definitely something to brag about. Somehow, it changed the perceptions of people you spoke to, because living abroad made your opinions more valid, or some people certainly believed that. Dilip had returned from America almost twenty years ago and he was still using it to influence people.

  ‘It was a shock for her to see that her husband is dead. Jackpot is dead.’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ Dilip said, then, lowering his voice, he quickly added, ‘I suppose it was bound to happen. Poor Talika. That’s his wife,’ he said, for Chupplejeep’s benefit. ‘The woman over there.’ He motioned with his eyes to the sobbing woman lying on the decking next to her husband.

  Chupplejeep walked towards the body. The deceased looked vaguely familiar from when he had visited the lake as a teenager. He couldn’t remember his name, but he looked like the kind man who had once helped Nana back to her feet after she had tripped over a stone in the market, although he couldn’t be sure. A woman in a sari was comforting the recent widow, wringing out Talika’s skirt where she could. ‘Have you called the medical examiner? The officer in charge?’

  ‘Oh, we don’t need them,’ the woman in the sari said. ‘Why get them involved, simply.’ She stood up and held out her hand to Chupplejeep. The detective took it and nodded sympathetically to Talika, who, still lying down, stared at him with her red-rimmed eyes.

  ‘My name is Sneha. Sneha Dhanjwant,’ she said, shaking the detective’s hand and releasing it. ‘I run the yoga retreat to the east of the lake.’ She pointed in its direction.

  Chupplejeep noticed that her slight frame was wrapped in a sari made from a simple cotton in a shade of light green. But despite her simple dress, her nails were perfectly manicured, and she wore what looked like diamonds and rubies in her ears. ‘So –’

  She cut him off. ‘Before you say it, there’s a reason I have a Hindu first name and a Sikh second.’

  Chupplejeep frowned. ‘I was going to ask if the retreat has only just opened or if it has been open for some time.’

  ‘If you can call two years recently, then yes.’

  ‘Our friend Chupplejeep hasn’t visited us in a while,’ Dilip said from behind Chupplejeep.

  ‘You’re not from here?’ Chupplejeep said to Sneha, detecting a hint of an accent.

  ‘She is UK returned,’ Dilip interjected with a glint in his eye. ‘At first the residents around the lake didn’t take kindly to a fancy yoga retreat. They thought it would spo
il their idyllic way of life. But now they are here, we have realised the retreat is not so bad. Unlike those gandos,’ he said, pointing to the construction works.

  Sneha’s hair was dark and cropped. A modern woman in a traditional sari. These days people could be modern and traditional, all at once. It was the way the world was going, and Chupplejeep liked it that way. People had to move with the times, but it would be a terrible shame to do away with tradition altogether.

  ‘We’re a peaceful bunch, Mr Chupplejeep,’ Sneha said. ‘You’ll see that. Are you staying for long?’ She didn’t pause long enough for him to tell her that he was only here for a fortnight. ‘I suppose this isn’t the welcome you expected. A detective trying to get away from it all turns up at his holiday getaway at the same time as a dead body. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to my dear Talika. Such a sad, sad time for her,’ Sneha said. ‘But please feel free to drop into the retreat soon. That is, if you can spare the time whilst you’re here. I’ll show you around.’

  Chupplejeep took a step towards the body. Dilip followed closely behind. ‘You’ll need to get the forensics team in quick and get the coroner’s office to take the body to the morgue. It needs a cool environment to preserve as much detail as possible.’

  Dilip grunted.

  ‘Why don’t people want the police involved?’ Chupplejeep asked. ‘It’s a police matter. And speaking as a detective, I must tell you that all unexpected deaths need to be investigated, no matter what the general consensus of the public is.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  Chupplejeep turned to look at Dilip. His nose twitched. ‘Maybe? Don’t you think that there’s something suspicious about this death? Already, the evidence is being destroyed and contaminated. They should never have touched the body, let alone moved it!’ Chupplejeep clenched his fists by his side as he looked at the people carelessly milling about.