“Lakha and your wife fighting again?” Geeta asked.
Ramesh twisted Geeta’s ear. The back of her earring bit into her soft flesh. “He told you to shut up.”
“Who’s Lakha?” Saloni asked.
Geeta answered, “The unwed mother of his only son.”
BB was more curious than suspicious. “How did you…”
Geeta affected nonchalance. “I pay attention.”
“Whatever.” His surprise dissolved into exasperation. “My mistress and my wife fight all the time. About everything! Food, clothes, the children, money, money, money. And my mother just makes it worse. The doctor says she’s going through ‘menopause’ and then I made the mistake of looking it up…” He trailed off with a shudder.
Ramesh sucked his teeth. “I keep telling you a few tight slaps will solve all your problems.”
Bada-Bhai glared at him. “I’ll just smack my mother around, is it? So that in the next life, I come back as an untouchable? Useless man.” He turned to Saloni. “It’s getting so bad, I hide in the toilet for quiet. They now think I have problems.” He gave his stomach a vague wave. “You know, with the digestion.”
Saloni, who’d clucked her commiseration while BB had spoken, said, “Excuse my saying so, but you should protect your wife over your mistress.”
“On the other hand,” Geeta said, “you have to protect your son from your wife.”
Ramesh released an aggravated roar. “What the fuck is this? Koffee with Karan? BB, let me cut them and be done with it already!”
From outside Geeta’s door came a clang and a bark, followed by muffled curses and continuous barking.
“Who is it?” Bada-Bhai called. From his expression, he realized his words were far too tentative and said, louder and gruffer: “Who the hell’s there?” Despite the danger, Geeta rolled her eyes. Dying at the hands of this fool after killing two men and evading the police would be like the Bandit Queen being felled by a mosquito bite.
The clanging must have been a pot or other metal object—Geeta thought of Bandit’s water bowl. All four of them watched the still door. Distant fireworks burst intermittently, disturbing the staid song of the crickets. It occurred to Geeta that BB and Ramesh had likely had the same idea as Saloni, to use the clamor of New Year’s as a distraction.
When no one announced themselves, BB crept toward the door, moved to open it, but then must have thought better of it. He jerked his head toward Ramesh, who issued a silent refusal. But BB’s bulging eyes brooked no further protest and Ramesh obliged.
“Farah!” Geeta said as the door opened.
Farah filled the doorway, puzzled and bleary-eyed, Bandit’s water bowl in her hand. Bandit shook himself, a welter of droplets flying onto Farah’s sari. “I accidentally kicked this onto the dog.” Then, noticing BB for the first time, she yawned and asked, “Who the fuck’re you?”
“Who the fuck am I? Who the fuck are you? Never mind, I don’t care. Get in here before someone sees you.”
Farah finally registered the bound women and the gun and grew alert. “Er—no, that’s okay. You lot carry on. Happy New Year.”
Bada-Bhai pointed the gun at her. “It was not a dinner invitation. Get in here or I’ll have him drag you in here.”
Farah complied, hands awkwardly rising to shoulder level in the manner television taught civilians. Ramesh relieved her of the water bowl and closed the door, but not before a damp Bandit ran into the crowded room, skidding when he recognized his former master.
“You!” BB said to Bandit, who generously apportioned his snarls between Ramesh and BB. “You kept him?”
Geeta nodded. “He’s a good dog.”
“I dunno. He always seemed like the dumb one of the group.”
“Oh! Like Farah!” Saloni said.
“Well, fuck you, too,” Farah sulked.
“Tie her up. Ram Above, we’re out of chairs.” BB glared at Saloni and Geeta. “Did you two invite anyone else?”
Ramesh fished through the meager armoire, this time selecting a yellow sari with a faded diamond pattern. Once Farah was seated on his charpoy, he trussed her in similar fashion, tying her wrists and ankles.
“Why are you here?” Geeta asked.
“It hit me that Ramesh might not be blind. And I figured I should warn you.” Her eyes tracked the revolver, which moved back and forth across the room as BB anxiously paced. “A choice I now deeply regret.”
“How did you know?” Ramesh asked, his curiosity genuine. “I was pretty convincing.”
“Well, I was at the party and I fell asleep. Right on the sweets table. When I woke up, I realized that the other day, when we were here for Geeta, he called Saloni fat.”
“So what?” BB said. “She is. No offense.”
“I prefer voluptuous, but whatever.”
Farah shook her head. “But how did he know? The last time he saw you, you were—”
Saloni sniffed in self-satisfaction. “Devastatingly gorgeous.”
Farah’s eyes rolled. “Sure, fine. I was gonna say ‘skinnier.’ And, sure, someone might’ve just told him Saloni was fat—sorry, ‘voluptuous,’ but I had a bad feeling so…”
“So you came to help us?” Geeta asked.
Saloni cocked her head. “Why?”
“I was trying to be a bonobo, okay?” Farah squirmed on the charpoy, her range of motion hampered.
Geeta’s lips tugged up, but Saloni simply sighed. “Well, a weapon or something would’ve been useful. It’s like you’ve learned nothing from C.I.D”
“Well, hindsight is almost a bigger bitch than you.”
Saloni sputter-laughed. “I’m the bitch? You tried to blackmail Geeta, not to mention you threatened to kill her.”
Farah growled. “Ya’Allah, how long are you gonna bang that drum? I’m here, aren’t I? Let it go already.”
“Enough! Halkat randis! I get enough of this headache at home.” BB rubbed his temples. “Wait. You were at this party, too?” When Farah nodded, BB frowned, the valleys between his brows deepening. “But you’re Muslim, na?” Farah nodded. “So why’re you celebrating Diwali?”
“Because she’s our friend,” Geeta said, and saw Farah’s faint smile.
BB shook his head. “Villages. I swear, if a Muslim came to my Diwali party, it’d start a riot.”
“You worked with Karem; he’s Muslim.”
“That’s business. Money has no religion. Now, if he wanted to marry my sister, we’d have a problem.”
“And, uh, who are you again?” Farah asked.
“BB,” he said.
She was bewildered. “Woman?”
“No! Goddammit.” He turned to Ramesh, who shrugged. “I told you it’d be too confusing.”
“？‘B-B,’？” Geeta spelled. “Bada-Bhai. It’s not carved in stone, though.”
“It’s a work in progress,” Saloni supplied helpfully. “He’s here to get revenge on Geeta.”
“Because I screwed him.”