The Silk Scarf.
It was a cold
evening. The weather chilly and romantic.
She was dressing up to go for an evening party. Her black dress with its
sheer flowing fabric and perfect cut clung to her beautiful figure. The mirror opposite her held the image of a
5.6 ft. tall, lean lady, with awe. She
looked simply gorgeous and poised. It
was her signature style to put around different colored scarves with each
outfit to perk up her looks. That day she chose a pale blue silk scarf, very
trendy and chic. She loved what saw in the mirror and gave a smile.
The doorbell rang
at 7 pm. sharp. She was excited and anxious to meet her fiancé and spend the
rest of the evening with him. It had been a year now since she had started
dating him. Her family back home was unaware of her affair and she needed some
more time to disclose it to them. She
opened the door eagerly, and to her surprise the person at the door was a
stranger. He looked at her quizzically and then in a deep voice said, “Madam,
the car is here for you.” She
was perplexed not knowing the person.
“Madam, Mr. Oberoi has sent the car for you, he will catch up later. He
has sent his apology for not being able to come personally to pick you
up.” His words convinced her a bit.
Though a bit offended and hesitant, she agreed to go with him. She locked her door, put the keys in her
handbag and went and sat in the luxurious black Mercedes.
After driving
some distance, the stranger tried to initiate some conversation, but she
preferred to keep quiet. Unperturbed, the man kept on trying to converse with
her. She found it very annoying and also a bit fishy. Why did this person try
to talk to her when he was just a driver? How could he even think of such
behavior and talk unabashedly? Questions were welling up in her mind but she
kept mum. After she calmed down a bit,
she suddenly thought of calling up her fiancé. Quietly she messaged him with a
gloomy, unhappy emoticon, expressing her annoyance on not being attended to
personally by him. Within no time he responded, with a message asking her where
she was. He had been ringing her doorbell since last 10 minutes. She was aghast
and unable to think, but she became alert and did not show any reaction to him.
She messaged her fiancé once again and informed him that she was half way down
the road to the place they were to meet, with some stranger whom he had sent
with his car.
And Oh! What was that?
He had not sent anybody!!
He said he had the
car!!
Then who was the person at the wheel and whose car was it?
She kept silent, not revealing her thoughts, her suspicion
to him.
He had been continuously watching her in the rear view
mirror, noticing her facial expressions he turned around and saw her messaging.
In a quick moment he snatched the mobile from her and threw it under the front
seat next to him. She tried to get it back but he pushed her on her seat. The
alarm bells were now ringing in her mind, suspecting something very
serious. She started shouting for help,
but the car door was locked and the side glasses up. Also it was a deserted
area so no one was around to hear her screams. She was scared, not knowing what
to do.
The driver took the car towards a by lane.
She was trembling with fear now. What was about to come she did not know. She
struggled to get out of the car but in vain. She began to search for something
to hit the driver so that he may stop the car. He was unweavered and calm and
kept on driving as if nothing at all was wrong. As if he knew what exactly was
he up to. She was trembling, perspiration welling up on her forehead and
slender neck, she was losing control of herself. Her scarf slipped off from her
neck and slide down the side of the seat corner near the door. She quietly
stretched her hand to pick up the scarf.
And she panicked. Something cold touched her fingers. Tactfully she
tried to pull out the object.
The car was now
slowing down. As if he was going to stop. Her fear was mounting. What would be next?
What was his intention? Tears were rolling down her cheeks. The man was
watching her constantly in the rear view mirror. Keeping a note of her every
move. She was shouting for help, crying, struggling to open the door, telling
him to stop the car, but he was placid. He did not care to answer any of her
questions, instead drove away fearlessly.
Her fingers tried
to inspect the object under the seat tactfully, so that he might not know about
it. Slowly she pulled it out from under the seat, along with her scarf. It was
a pointed knife with a beautiful white marble engraved handle. She hid it under her scarf. Now she needed
some courage and strength to attack him. But she needed to be alert and
tactful. He noticed the change in her
expression and turned around to check what was she up to. She remained still
and acted to be crying with the palm of one hand on her eyes and the other
holding the scarf.
A little further
away on the road was a sharp turn. She waited, planning an attack in her mind.
As the turn was approaching, she gathered courage to hit him. The car was in full speed. As the turn came
he slowed down to take a blind turn. There was a steep valley on the other side
of the road. As he took the turn, concentrating fully on the wheel, she struck him on the neck with the knife.
He lost control of the wheel, fumbled a little and fell unconscious. The car
bumped into the barrier on the side of the road and stopped with a bang.
She jumped to the
seat next to him, opened the car door and pushed him down the valley. She could
not think of anything. She tried to start the car and luckily it started after
some noise. In a mad haze she drove
away, scared, terrified, and forgetting that the blood stained knife was still
in the car. She could have thrown it away but in her terror she forgot to do
so. She crazily sped the car to reach wherever she could away from that man. Further down the road she saw a hotel. She
stopped, freshened up and called her fiancé, telling him about the incident. To
her dismay his response was cold, as if nothing untoward had at all occurred.
Her mind was in a haze.
What actually was
going on? Why did her fiancé respond so
coldly? Didn’t the incident bother him? Or did he not care for her? It really disturbed her. What must she do
now, she thought. Questions were constantly coming up in her mind. She tried to
calm down and think sensibly. After taking a few deep breaths and controlling
her agitation, she called her fiancé once again and asked him to meet her at
the Starbucks Hotel, down town after about an hour.
On the way she
was thinking about the incident, trying to analyze the whole thing. Something
suspicious was coming up in her mind. She was not clear about it. She could not
afford to take any chances now. She called the nearest police station and described
the entire incident and requested the police to be present at the Hotel with
her, but in disguise. They agreed to do so.
It was 9 pm. She
entered the café after bracing herself up, brushing her dishelved hair and
smudged face. She looked presentable and beautiful now. Her handbag on her arm.
She sat at a corner table, facing the main entrance of the café. The huge glass
windows overlooked the bustling city and its colorful lights. She ordered a cup
of coffee to pep up her mood. The rich aroma and taste of the coffee helped her
a bit. She sat in the Starbucks café, sipping her coffee and starring out of
the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her
blue silk scarf. She brought it along to show it to her fiancé and then to
decide what to do about it. In her terror she could not think of anything
herself. For a moment she thought of
handing over the knife to the police, but then changed her mind. As she did not
want her fiancé to know that she had taken police protection and that she was
suspecting something about him.
The knife and her
story would assure him that she was depending on him for further action. More
than an hour had passed since she had called him. She was getting restless now.
Why hadn’t he turned up yet? Desperately
she glanced around at the people in the café enjoying themselves. And the door
of the café opened. In the dimly lit hall, she saw two figures at the entrance,
proceeding slowly towards her. Her heart skipped a beat. Who were they? Why were they coming towards her? As the
overhead lamp lit up their shadowy faces, she was terrified. It was her fiancé
with the same stranger who had driven her away. He was walking unsteadily by
his side. He was alive? And that too along with her fiancé? She fainted with fear.
Who could it be?
What was the suspense? Was he her fiancé’s friend, or was her fiancé trying to
kill or kidnap her? Was it some prank played on her? What was it? She was thinking to herself on the hospital
bed. The policemen just then entered the room and informed her that they had
planned to kidnap her for some ransom from her millionaire father. And that her
fiancé was a famous gangster, the driver his partner. And they also expressed
their surprise at her being totally unaware of these facts. They warned her to keep away from such people
for her own safety.
The blue silk scarf was on her bedside, but the knife was in
police custody.
It was a rare antique
knife which was stolen from the city museum. It had a white engraved marble
handle defining its value, said the
policeman. She could not believe what she heard. But it was a bitter fact.