“But he's taken his cat back, he told you so,” Jatin said. “We always knew she belonged to someone. She was too well trained and well fed to be a stray. But to think that she belonged to the Owl!”
“Stolen Nidhi and deposited her God knows where, while he jet-sets to all ends of the world!” Sonia began pacing the floor again. “I'm going to find her.”
“In the meanwhile, Boss, can we open our gifts? I thought you wanted to celebrate Christmas today,” Jatin complained.
“Oh, I'm sorry. Yes, of course, let's go ahead and open our gifts.”
“And I took the liberty of ordering us some steaming hot
Idli Sambar
for breakfast, from Vaishali, the restaurant down the street. It should arrive any minute now,” Jatin informed her happily.
They gathered round the fir tree, which seemed to be patiently awaiting attention with its boughs draped in gold and silver. Sonia handed Mohnish and Jatin their gifts.
“You first,” she told her assistant.
The childlike excitement on Jatin's face made Sonia smile. He impatiently tore open the wrapper and extracted a box. Then whistled loud and slow.
“A cell phone!” he cried in amazement. “Why, Boss, thank you! But . . . but do I deserve it?”
“Come on, Jatin, this is no time for a belated display of humility. Of course you deserve it! You are the best assistant anyone could ever want!” Sonia said warmly.
“Thank you, Boss.” Jatin's voice betrayed the deep emotion he felt. “Now let's see Mohnish's gift.”
With a sheepish grin, Mohnish unwrapped the slim, gold-speckled, glossy parcel. The transparent box inside revealed a silver-coated pen. “What a wonderful gift for a journalist, to remind him of his duties!” Mohnish laughed, his dimple deepening prominently. “Thank you, I really appreciate the gesture.”
“Now, Boss, open my gift,” Jatin insisted, then waited anxiously for Sonia's reaction as she removed the paper from the package.
“An appointment dairy!” Sonia exclaimed, pleased.
“I want the diary to be full of appointments in the coming year!” he declared.
“For once, I agree wholeheartedly and indisputably with you! Thanks a lot, Jatin.” She flashed him a disarming smile.
“Is it finally my turn? My gift for you is waiting on the tree,” Mohnish chipped in.
Sonia unhooked the small colored package from the top of the tree. She unstuck the cello tape, and a plastic, elongated box slipped out of the paper. A beautiful studded bracelet nestled on purple velvet. Jatin whistled in appreciation.
“It's beautiful!” Sonia gasped. “I hope it's not—”
“Real?” Mohnish completed with a grin. “Don't worry, it's not. Do you like it?”
Sonia placed it around her wrist and the stones shone like real diamonds. “I love it, thank you!”
The glint in Mohnish's eyes revealed his pleasure at her acceptance.
“Now, I have three more gifts,” Sonia announced. “One for the office, one for my Astrology, and one for Nidhi.”
She extracted a big bronze Om—the sacred Hindu syllable—from a cardboard box. “This is for the outer room. We shall hang it up on the wall for good luck. And this new yellow shelf is for my almanacs—for Astrology—my magic elixir in problem solving! As for Nidhi's gift, I shall wait for her to return before I open it.”
“And here comes the
Idli Sambar
from our favorite restaurant, Vaishali. I'm starving!” Jatin announced.
The South Indian dish made of steamed cake of rice and black grain with a curry of grain, vegetables, and spices to go with it was served in deep dishes by the Restaurant Man. It was while they were tucking into the hot breakfast that the doorbell sounded.
“I'll get it.” Jatin slipped outside.
Mohnish glanced at Sonia, his gaze contemplative. “You liked him—the Owl—didn't you?”
“He was different,” she admitted.
Mohnish pursed his lips. “And you'd like to meet him again?”
“Of course! But at the moment, I'm not thinking of him. Neither am I thinking about what you were doing at midnight in your Flower Shop.”
“Flower Shop!” Mohnish appeared startled. “You mean last night? Oh, that was a friend—”
“We'll talk about that later,” Sonia interposed. “My top priority is to find Nidhi.”
“Boss, there's another Christmas present for you!” Jatin's excited voice called out.
Sonia and Mohnish hastened out. Jatin stood with the office door open. A small cage stood on the threshold. Protesting meows emerged from the cage.
“Nidhi!” Sonia cried out in joy.
She ran to the cage and swung open its door. Immediately, the cat rushed out and bounced up to the table, purring and complaining. Jatin placed milk before her, and within seconds the bowl was empty and sparkling.
“Thank God she's home.” Sonia sighed happily, dropping a kiss on the cat's silky forehead and scratching her behind the ears. Her collar was missing. She turned to Jatin. “Who brought her here?”
“That's a mystery, since there wasn't a soul around. But I found this note tucked into the handle of the cage.”
Sonia accepted the piece of paper, her heart suddenly beating faster. She recognized the handwriting at once. Scrawled in a beautiful hand was a message.
Merry Christmas! The best gift I can think for you is my love
—
Chinky. You may call her Nidhi. I know that you will take good care of her. Until the sun shines and we see dawn together . . . your secret admirer.
Sonia stared at the words and couldn't help experiencing a ripple of pleasure. She handed the note to Mohnish, who read it with a frown.
“That solves
another
mystery. Now, for Nidhi's present, which I specially went and bought this morning!”
Jatin sped to the inner room and produced a colorful parcel. Sonia unwrapped it. A blue velvet, beaded, fancy collar! She wound it lovingly round the cat's neck. Nidhi meowed in appreciation. Sonia lifted Nidhi and hugged her.
“Yes,” Sonia murmured, “we shall meet again, Varun Thakur. Whether you are the Owl or not, we shall most certainly meet again.”
She looked at Mohnish and Jatin and flashed a scintillating smile.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ever since she can remember, Manjiri Prabhu wanted to be a writer. She has been writing since the age of seven.
With a Ph.D. in Film and Communication, by profession Manjiri has been a television producer for the last seventeen years, having scripted, directed, and edited over two hundred programmes. She has penned two romances and a nonfiction book on films titled
Roles: Reel and Real.
She has written the stories, scripts, and dialogues for full-length feature films. She has also worked as a freelance film critic for Indian newspapers, reviewing English, Hindi, and Marathi films. She is currently working on her second mystery,
The Astral Alibi
.
Manjiri Prabhu lives in Pune, India, and her major concern is animal welfare. She strives for the care and protection of street dogs and cats.
She can be reached at:
MURDER IN THE STARS
With determination, she bent closely over Rani's and Sanjay's horoscopes, running her eye casually over the combinations. These two certainly had a very strong attraction for each other, but strong possibilities of divorce were also indicated. Or at least, separation of some kind. Too bad. Sonia focused her attention on Rani's horoscope. Zodiac sign Gemini with Taurus as the ascendant. Good-looking, surely. Also revealed a childhood fraught with hardships. And . . . suddenly Sonia paused. Venus, Sun, and Mercury in the eighth house with Saturn and Mars aspecting them. What could it mean? What a strange horoscope, one of the rarest of its kind. Yes, it was absolutely clear. This wasn't just a childhood of hardships . . . it was something more . . . and if she was right, it could mean that Rani was in terrible danger. . . . Sometimes the demons of the past overtook you and wreaked havoc with the present. . . .
Sonia leaned against her chair, deep lines etched into her forehead. Could Mohnish do the needful for her? After all, Rani trusted him. Hadn't she said so herself? She must handle this with utmost care, Sonia decided. There were many, many delicate factors to consider.
THE COSMIC CLUES
A Dell Book / October 2004
Published by
Bantam Dell
A Division of Random House, Inc.
New York, New York
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2004 by Manjiri Prabhu
Horoscope illustrations copyright © 2004 by Hadel Studio
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. For information address: Dell Books, New York, New York.
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ISBN-13: 9-780-44033-5-108
ISBN-10: 0-440-33510-8
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