Sample Copy. Not For Distribution. - Educreation · It never irked her much before but she knew there was this feeling of unease, a feeling that things somehow were different

Sample Copy. Not For Distribution.

i

Web of Deception


ii

Publishing-in-support-of,

EDUCREATION PUBLISHING

RZ 94, Sector - 6, Dwarka, New Delhi - 110075

Shubham Vihar, Mangla, Bilaspur, Chhattisgarh - 495001

Website: www.educreation.in __________________________________________________

© Copyright, Author

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, optical, chemical, manual, photocopying,

recording or otherwise, without the prior written consent of its writer.

ISBN: 978-1-5457-0730-2

Price: ` 315.00

The opinions/ contents expressed in this book are solely of the author

and do not represent the opinions/ standings/ thoughts of Educreation.

Printed in India


iii

Web of Deception

Love, Obsession, Murder

Christine D'sylva

EDUCREATION PUBLISHING (Since 2011)

www.educreation.in


iv


Christine D'sylva

1

Chapter 1

W

“Yes, Mrs Patel, you are scheduled for surgery tomorrow. The sinus blockage has to be dealt with. As it

is quite minor, no need to panic.”

“I understand.” Mrs Patel, bit her lip

apprehensively. “Endoscopic surgery that will be performed will

remove the small amount of bone that is blocking the

sinus openings, and of course a small polyp which was detected will be removed. You have chronic sinusitis

and this is a very simple procedure, so do not worry. Just

fill in the required form and we will schedule the surgery for tomorrow.”

Mrs Patel nodded, she seemed a bit mollified. The

soothing manner of Dr Rehan Rawala as always won

admiration and most of his patients had a little crush on him.

He watched her leave, and then settled back in his

chair thoughtfully. There was a lot on his mind these days. And he did not understand why. He ought to be

happy, he seemed to have it all. But there lurked a seed

of dissatisfaction that left him feeling uneasy and restless

like a turbulent tide that was held back for too long and now demanded release.

Tall, in his early forties, close to six feet, with a

well- built body, a rugged face that looked more arresting than handsome, he had that indefinable thing

called sex appeal. His patients found him very attractive


Web of Deception

2

and his calm, deep attractive voice made them feel

comforted. Thus, it was no wonder then, that he was a popular doctor.

Ear, nose and throat specialists, are also called

ENT’s and rarely referred to as otolaryngologists. They

specialize in otolaryngology and diagnose, manage and treat disorders of the head and neck, including the ears,

nose, throat, sinuses, voice box (larynx) and other

structures. He was affiliated to the top multi-specialty hospital,

Orion, at Andheri, Mumbai.

He was fortunate to work here for the hospital was close to his residence, and the patients were ready to pay

the high fees that such a top hospital demanded. The

hospital was a towering tan building that had three

wings. The compound was decent sized with a lawn at the corner, and parking space for the vehicles that

teemed in.

He wore his usual clothes of black trousers with a crisp cream shirt, rarely donning the doctor’s white coat

and most of the M.D physicians avoided the white coat,

unless essential. He had a straight carriage and a faint arrogance in

his demeanor as he strode along the white long corridors

of the hospital. A few nurses passing by, nodded their

heads in acknowledgement, their eyes a bit wide in admiration. This was of course, the usual treatment he

got daily and he had to admit it was ego-boosting. It

rendered him a feeling of being in control, of being above mere average mortals. He felt like a semi- god, in

charge of people’s health and lives and this was one of

the main reasons he had chosen this profession. Besides,

of course the remuneration that was very good. He had surgery scheduled in an hour’s time and

decided to grab a cup of coffee. It always served as an

instant revitalizer.


Christine D'sylva

3

Manisha Rawala stared at her reflection in the long

mirror discontentedly. She had put on weight, at least ten kilos during her sixteen- year old marriage. Only thirty-

eight and she knew her looks were fading. There were

streaks of grey that had sprung out silently and they

made her aware that age was catching up. Too fast. Faint lines around her eyes and her slightly sunken cheeks

made her realise that she was no longer the attractive

looking young woman who had married the good- looking Doctor Rehan Rawala.

It never irked her much before but she knew there

was this feeling of unease, a feeling that things somehow were different.

Theirs had been an arranged marriage and that she

had snagged a good-looking ENT specialist had been

considered an achievement. Her parents had been over the moon and though they had paid a heavy dowry,

(which was illegal) she knew it had been worth it.

He had claimed that he had fallen in love with her and of course she who had loved him almost at first

sight, had known she had made the right choice.

But recently, there was a strange coolness in their marriage. If asked to pin- point the exact time frame, she

would have been at a loss.

But, she sensed that he was cooler towards her. But

logic told her that all marriages have their ups and downs and one could not stay starry- eyed forever.

But, it worried her that the truth was that he had

never been starry- eyed. He had fallen in love coolly and logically, with his eyes wide open, knowing she was a

decent catch and of course, the big dowry had been an

added benefit.

She poked a face at herself in the mirror and shrugged.

No matter what, one could not erase the ravages of

time. She knew she was a decent dresser, yet compared


Web of Deception

4

to the young woman she had been, she now looked her

age if not a bit older. And ironically, he looked his age too, but the streaks of grey across his forehead, and the

new maturity in his face only made him look more

distinguished. In fact, she had this feeling that age suited

him a lot more than his youth. He wore it gracefully like an impressive cloak that added subtly to his appeal.

She turned away slowly from the mirror and

decided to go into the large room at the rear end of the flat. It was a guest bedroom which he had turned into a

painting room for her- an artist’s haven. There were

various canvases on the easel stands across the room. Sunlight poured from the huge windows with their

flimsy lace curtains swaying gently in the morning

breeze.

On a work- table there were an assortment of paint brushes of varying sizes and of course paints of every

hue imaginable.

This was one area of the home that she could relax and be herself. It was her haven of happiness.

To stand in front of a blank canvas and see in her

mind’s eye the vision of a scenery or figure and then make it come alive on the canvas was the most

exhilarating experience. Each brush stroke was like a

work of art that eventually transformed into something

that made visitors gasp. Many of her paintings were sold to various stores or art galleries and while her profit was

sparse, she enjoyed the rush of excitement knowing

someone out there would feel pleased and comforted by her labour of love.

So, each day, she painted for an hour or so, and as

she strode to the blank canvas set on the easel stand, she

decided to paint an uplifting scenery. It was in her mind’s eye- the graceful slope of the tall brown rugged

mountains, the slightly swaying trees, with their green

and red beauty, as well as the gently flowing river that


Christine D'sylva

5

ran in a jagged manner through the soft fresh grass, the

water bluish with silvery streaks. In her mind, she could visualise a lone female

figure sitting under a huge tree, gazing sightlessly ahead.

This was of course, just her first visualisation of what

she would paint, later the details would emerge and sometimes, the end result was quite different from what

had been her original idea.

So, she worked steadily for more than an hour, deliberately blanking out her mind and only focussing on

the task ahead.

P


Web of Deception

6

Chapter 2

W

“There’s a new patient, Doctor Rawala. She has no

appointment. Can I send her in since the patient Mrs Khanna scheduled for the four o’ clock appointment has

not yet arrived?” The anxious sweet tones of his

receptionist, Sara, almost made him smile. Only, twenty-one, she was a fresh- faced young woman, who was in

awe of him.

He glanced at the white clock opposite him. The time was twenty minutes past four.

“Send her in.” His voice was brisk and brooked no

argument.

He was glancing through a sheaf of papers in a file, in front of him, a frown on his face. It was obvious that

despite all tests done, there seemed to be no easy

solution to solve the laryngitis problem of Mr Gupta, for it seemed to be recurring frequently and it was chronic.

Normally a physical examination was enough but as this

case was chronic, there had been a need for additional

tests. The fact was that this patient Mr Gupta, only thirty years old was a smoker and it was scarcely little wonder

then, that he had chronic laryngitis though of course

other factors could be involved too. He had tried advising his patient to quit smoking

but it was of no use. The best solution would be then to

perform surgery for there was a polyp detected causing the vocal chords to be slightly damaged.


Christine D'sylva

7

He heard the soft tread of footsteps, and without

looking up, said, “Sit please.” He carefully put aside the file and then looked up.

His eyes collided with a pair of beautiful grey eyes,

set in a face that was very unusual.

He could not help noticing that her eyes were fringed with a set of long thick eye- lashes that looked

almost unreal. Her mouth was a creamy red, and there

was a faint touch of pink blush across her cheekbones. All this his observant eyes took at a single glance, more

observant than most people, perhaps due to his

profession. His eyes took in her figure and he felt a sudden surge of excitement though nothing of course

was revealed in his professional demeanour. God! She

was a sexy piece.

She had a little smile on her face and there was an amused look in her eyes. Irritated, he guessed she was

aware he found her attractive. But then, so would a lot of

other men. Therefore, his voice was a bit colder than usual.

“Yes, what is the matter?”

She had a well- modulated voice, which was smooth and cultured. It was not a particularly feminine

voice but there was a slight huskiness to her tone that

made him look at her with interest, though his face

remained quite cool and dead- pan. “Doctor, I have a cough that just seems to linger

on. It’s been four weeks now and it has not gone away.”

He said, “Well, I will make an examination, first. Are you allergic to anything? Often, pollen allergies can

cause loads of problems in summer.”

She shrugged, looking a bit unsure.

He performed the necessary examination and noticed the inflammation of her throat.

“There seems to be nothing serious. I will write out

a prescription and it will be necessary for you to be on a


Web of Deception

8

course of antibiotics.” He began writing out a

prescription on a sheet of white paper, his hand-writing was reasonable, at least compared to most of his

colleagues whose hand writing was illegible. Her name

he learnt was Isha Batra. “I have recommended some B

complex vitamins too, for the antibiotics are very strong. Also, I would like you first to take an allergy pill, today

and tomorrow you may start with the course of

antibiotics which incidentally will be taken for five days.”

He tore off the sheet after scrawling his initials and

handed it over to her. “You can buy these at the pharmacy down below.”

Her eyes quickly scanned the prescription and she

nodded.

Then, with a graceful movement, she rose to her feet, after making the payment which was high as

expected.

“Thank you, doctor.” There was a faint smile on her face as their eyes met. He felt a sudden shortness of

breath like he had been running a long marathon. There

was something about her that pulled him, like a magnet drawn to a steel filing involuntarily. A sudden flush rose

on his face and he suddenly could not meet her eyes

anymore. He nodded curtly and watched her retreating

back, admiring her curvy yet slim figure, in a salwar kameez that looked expensive and well- tailored.

The next patient stepped in, a minute later, and he

was immersed in his usual world of sickness and pain. The pair of beautiful grey eyes was soon forgotten.

P


Christine D'sylva

9

Chapter 3

W

Manisha heard the ringing of the doorbell.

“I will get it mum.” Aarti raced across, her long plait swinging, her slender legs encased in a pair of shorts.

She was fifteen and like a slender colt, with hardly any

curves. Yet, she had a prettiness that made people admire her youthful good looks and exclaim that she was

a lovely girl. Her skin was bright and translucent, and

this feature she had inherited from her mother. Yet, despite her beauty, she was a bit of a tomboy who cared

little about boys and fashion, and seemed more of the

academic type, engrossed in her studies and loved

pouring over scientific journals. “It’s dad!” she yelped.

A glance at the hall clock revealed it was ten past

nine, and this was his usual timing, though at times he could come home later. As a doctor’s wife, she was used

to this and it was never a bone of contention in their

marriage.

He strode in, and Aarti grabbed his briefcase and said, “Hi, dad!”

He smiled and from his expression, it was clear that

Aarti was the apple of his eye. “So how is my little girl today?”

“Little?” Aarti looked suitably horrified. “Dad, I am

fifteen. Don’t call me little.” Dr Rehan Rawala laughed, and said contritely,

“Sorry, honey.”


Web of Deception

10

Aarti made a face and rushed into her room, hell

bent on sitting for another hour in front of her laptop computer scanning the internet.

Manisha greeted him, but there was a tense look on

her face.

He smiled and avoided her eyes. There was a coolness these days in their marriage

and there seemed to be no real reason why. Manisha was

aware men in their forties could suffer from a mid-life crisis. “How was your day?” The inquiry was more

habitual.

“Oh, okay.” He shrugged.” Hope there is something tasty for dinner. I feel famished.”

“Chicken curry with fried rice and of course your

favourite Russian salad.”

“Sounds good.” He strode into the master bedroom to have a quick shower.

Fifteen minutes later, he emerged, looking a far cry

from his usual immaculate formal self. Clad in boxer shorts and a black T shirt, his hair damp, he looked

casual and relaxed.

The cook, a middle-aged woman named Sonu, who had been with them for five years always managed to

make even the simplest meal quite delicious. Manisha

would not have parted with her for anything. She was a

veritable treasure and she knew how fortunate she was to get someone who was also quite honest.

The three of them sat together on the rexine chairs

of the glass dining table, a low lamp shade illuminating the room with a subdued light.

Aarti was in a talkative mood and discussed with her

dad, her dream of becoming a gynaecologist. He was of

the opinion that it was more suitable for men given the hours one had to be on call, citing a doctor who was

female and only performed caesareans because it was


Christine D'sylva

11

Get Complete Book At Educreation Store

www.educreation.in



Documents

Sample Copy. Not For Distribution. - Educreation · It never irked her much before but she knew there was this feeling of unease, a feeling that things somehow were different