Mumbai Noir
Code of honour (Mumbai Noir)
(This rather nasty piece is a shortened version of something I once posted on the fiction site, but almost immediately withdrew. Waste not, want not ...)
Ravi Singh was a quiet and well-liked young man, which made his crime all the more shocking.
The investigating detectives eventually pieced together his account, beginning with the day he was summoned to the big house.
Mr Gupta was seated behind his antique rosewood desk, meticulously paring his fingernails. After several minutes, without looking up, he spoke. “Because of you, my daughter is no longer a virgin. You have stolen my honour. And now you must put matters right.”
“You wish me to marry your daughter, sir?”
Mr Gupta finally looked up from his pile of nail-parings with a feral smile.
“No, Mr Singh. For someone like you to marry my daughter would only compound the shame.”
“But sir ... how can I ...”
Mr Gupta swept the nail-parings on to the Qum rug beneath his desk.
“What you are required to do, Mr Singh”, he murmured, “is to kill my daughter.”
|