A Suitor for the Princess - Chapter 73

                 Nervously, she twiddled her thumbs and paced around the house like a caged lioness, growing restless by the minute. Her thoughts were disarrayed. Even the balcony had been searched, so where had the elusive folder vanished? She racked her brains for the answer as she waited impatiently for the Doctor to wake up. Then sheepishly she realized that she couldn’t search his room, as it would mean that she suspected him of stealing it or equally worse, it could imply that she had visited the room in his absence! It was a Catch-22 situation!

                 She decided that she would search for it after he left for the clinic. John was going to come to the clinic only at 4 p.m. so she would be going there at around 3.30 p.m. to wait along with the Doctor for his arrival. The Doctor had suggested the previous night that she come slightly early to the clinic, than John. However was there any harm in casually inquiring about her folder? she thought and so when he came into the living room to have his breakfast at the coffee table, she asked him evenly, trying hard to keep away the anxiety in her voice, “Benny, have you by any chance seen my folder containing the novel, as I am unable to find it? In fact, I have searched through all the possible places where I could have kept it, but haven’t been successful in locating it. I’m very, very worried. She was on the verge of tears.

                Calmly, slyly, the Doctor said, with a very straight face, “Oh that folder!”

                Her hopes raised, she looked at him expectantly, waiting to hear that he had seen it and kept it safely somewhere. Nothing could have prepared her for his next words.

                “Martha, please listen to me carefully and calmly. Promise me that you’ll hear me out and then speak!”

                 Intrigued, she agreed. Tersely, she said, “Yes.”

                 The Doctor looked at her squarely, his small black eyes glinting maliciously as he slowly, very slowly said, “I burnt it.”

                 Not believing her ears, she said incredulously, “I beg your pardon?”

                 He repeated confidently, “You heard it right Martha, I burnt it. I have destroyed your demons forever. You’ll never be plagued or haunted by the ghosts in that damned novel of yours!”

                  Instantaneously, Martha pounced on him and held his throat, uncaring about her gown that had come apart at the front, or the fact that she was nearly astride him in an awkward position; on the couch near the coffee-table. Her eyes darted fire as she venomously shrieked, “You devil, how dare you do that? You scumbag! You knew that I had slogged on it for a whole year and yet destroyed it perversely. You knew that I had intended to send it for typing and that I didn’t have any copy of it; didn’t you? You mean, wretched fellow! You’ll rot in hell for your misdeed. Just wait and watch!”

                  Her hysteria kept rising as she shrieked, raved and ranted, tears streaming down her smooth and beautiful cheeks. As the Doctor quietly, guiltily, cowered under her attack, she went berserk on a murderous rampage in that immaculate apartment. She broke all the lights, lamps, vases and collectibles, smashing them to smithereens. Then she took a table-knife and tore all the expensive canvases of original paintings. Next, she pulled down all the freshly laundered and ironed curtains from their rods and tore them to shreds.

                  She broke all the china-ware and sprayed sauce and syrup on all the imported rugs. She took the flower pots that she had recently bought and hurled them through the balcony on to the space in front of the building, damaging the Doctor’s expensive Audi car in the bargain as well as quite a few of the other vehicles parked there. Lastly, in a fit of blinding and uncontrollable rage, she plunged that knife through the Doctor’s chest. He shrieked with unbearable pain, begging her for mercy. Not satisfied, she plunged it again and again through his body, till he lay limply on the smudged, carpet on the living-room, lifeless and bloodied.

                   Then she slashed her wrists till pools of blood streamed from the wounds, slid down and mingled with those of the Doctor’s. She fainted and was relieved from further agony. By then, the security guards were knocking frantically on the door of the apartment. Not getting a response, they broke open the door and were shocked to see that gory scene of death and destruction. It was a scene straight from a crime-movie; nauseating and blood-curdling. The pesky next-door neighbor, who was peeping from behind the security guards, was repulsed and had to rush back into her apartment to vomit. She’d never forget that horrible scene of murder and attempted suicide, throughout her life.

                   The guards rang up the nearest police station. Policemen arrived immediately and took charge. The doctor’s body was sent for postmortem. Martha was taken to a hospital for treatment. If she would survive her suicide attempt, they would charge her on counts of murder, attempted suicide and vandalism.

To be continued....

The copyright of this novel is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.