Seduced by Murder (5 page)

Everyone was silent now.

I said to Babu, “During the autopsy, you will realise that there was a struggle between Anil and the murderer. Either
after
Anil had been stabbed, or
before
, there was a struggle, the evidence of which can be found in the bloodstains on Anil’s right-hand finger nails.”

Three men rushed towards the corpse, and observed Anil’s bloodstained fingernails. I reconstructed the crime scene for everyone’s benefit.

“Since there was a struggle, let us assume that Anil was awake or semi-awake. It is certain that Anil was lying on his back when he was stabbed. But the body was found lying on the stomach.

“It would be terribly inconvenient for the murderer to creep in stealthily, get beneath the hammock and aim for Anil’s heart. But if he had been lying down when he was stabbed, how did he turn? So let us assume that Anil had judged the murderer’s intentions, stood up, struggled, and managed to scratch the intruder before being stabbed. He was
then pushed so that he fell on his stomach, and the additional pressure drove the knife further into his heart.”

All eyes were fixed on me, and I stared at Shalini. Intuition told me that the murderer was standing there.

A little later I casually asked Ram, “How did you scratch your neck?”

Everyone understood the implication of this question, and all eyes shifted to the scratches on his neck.

“What … oh … this is from the branches, sir – from the branches in the forest in the village, sir!” he said, pleading.

“Okay. Just concerned. Use some antiseptic.”

B
abu was sitting in my car while waiting for the backup to arrive. We had exited the house to respect the family’s privacy. The grief associated with the death had been overshadowed by the shock of the macabre possibility that the murderer could be an insider. The Kapoors had become hysterical after I told them my thoughts on the murder. Paras had requested Babu and me to excuse the family for some time. They were seated in the living room, engaged in a sort of confused, tearful conference as we left.

Babu said excitedly, “If what you said is true, this will be one hell of a case! The media will go berserk!”

There was a twinkle in his eyes. “You are quite a sharp guy. For how long have you been doing this stuff … hey … what’s that?”

I caught the familiar sweet smell of weed, and cursed Pranay silently.

“You are smoking drugs?” the Inspector yelled, and held Pranay by the collar.

It took a few seconds for Pranay’s placid pupils to register that he was doing something wrong by smoking a joint in front of a police officer. His looked at me in alarm.

“Put that away.”

I pulled the cigarette from between his lips and extinguished it against the steering wheel. I apologised on Pranay’s behalf.

“I am sorry, Inspector. This is the first time he has seen a dead body at such close quarters. He is not thinking straight.”

“That stuff is banned. I should have him arrested.”

“Let him be, Inspector. We have bigger things to worry about. How will you handle the media when they come to know that Anil Kapoor has been murdered, and
you
have found clues that incriminate a family member?”

He let go of Pranay’s collar, and stroked his moustache in ecstasy.

“It will be big! They would want to know how we found that, of course?” He looked at me slyly. “You will give a statement to the media?”

“Not a chance. I will leave it to your judgment to issue the statement.”

He beamed at us, and both Pranay and I breathed easy. He continued, “I will tell them how both of us uncovered the clues together. That should keep us in the headlines for a few days.”

“Maybe you should check with Mr Paras Kapoor before issuing any statements. And please don’t mention my name.”

He ignored the first part of my statement.

“You don’t want me to mention your name to the press? They would want to know who found all the clues.”

“Oh no. I got lucky. You were the first one to examine the corpse, remember?”

He looked at me and an unspoken agreement was sealed between us. He would forget the dope Pranay was carrying, and I would forget what a dope he was. An excruciatingly painful hour passed in the car.

Babu was attacking me with a paroxysm of idle chatter that was slightly more interesting than watching snails race. I thought of the repercussions of pushing him out of my car, and realised it would only make things worse. I wanted to shut out his mindless babble, close my eyes, and concentrate on how to deal with the tempest of past memories. I wanted to see Aditi again. I wanted a drink.

Thankfully, Ram came running and said, “Please come in, sir. They are waiting for you.”

I followed Babu and Pranay into the living room, and found the Kapoor family sitting stiff and impassive. Count Dracula and his family assembled for their annual Halloween portrait. Six pairs of eyes gazed at me with a sense of anticipation reserved for a surgeon, who walks out of the operation theatre after trying to save a man’s life. I noticed that Shalini and Mayank were missing, and asked where they were. Paras said that Shalini had had a nervous breakdown after hearing my assumptions about the murderer, and was resting in her room. Her father was with her.

Paras spoke in his commanding voice. “Please sit down. What will you have? Tea or coffee?”

His voice didn’t quiver; his manner didn’t falter. Here was a man who was a true fatalist, an indefatigable master of emotions. I could see the truth in the myriad versions of his rags-to-riches story I had read about – the migrant who came to the city forty years ago, with only a suitcase and a legacy of bad debt.

Babu opted for tea. I considered the propriety of asking for beer. Empty bottles were strewn all over the carpet from last night’s party mocking my sobriety. I regretfully remembered the glass of Scotch I had left untouched at my office.

Paras asked me in a cautious voice, “What’s on your mind?”
Beer. Aditi
.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I mean … what do you think?”

“What about?”

He gave me a stare of distrust. I looked at the waves of anticipation on the faces surrounding me. I realised what this was all about.

“I don’t know who did it! Do you actually think I do?”

Paras looked crestfallen. “Oh! You sure you don’t have any idea at all about the identity of the murderer?”

The old guy looked disappointed that I didn’t indict one of his family members. Something was wrong about his behaviour. They were still staring at me in anticipation. I retaliated with what I hoped was the most incredulous stare. They really thought I could discern the identity of the murderer, sitting in a car with Babu! The only person I knew who could do this was Sherlock Holmes!

Paras said politely, “Your presence here was highly appreciated today. We would like to know what your next step would be.”

“Well, if you appoint me as a private detective, I can formally look into the case.”

Paras looked at his sons, rebelliously.

“Vishal, I don’t know why you came here, or what are you trying to imply. But my son has been murdered. I want you to try and find the bastard who did this.”

Tears surged into his eyes, but he fought them back heroically. Sunil and Vimal did not look very happy, and Aditi had an imperceptible smile of triumph on her face, that only I could decipher. Apparently, some of them did not want me
to work on the case. Anyway, the king had spoken, and the commoners could go to hell.

“I need someone to sign a standard agreement. I can send that tomorrow.”

“Catch the murderer. We will sign the agreement tomorrow. Don’t worry about money.”

I immediately decided to double my retainer.

He continued, “I hope I can count on you for complete confidentiality.”

“Yes, sir.”

I gave my card to Paras. Aditi stretched her neck to catch a glimpse of it. I offered her one too. She took it shyly.

One of the junior inspectors entered the room, and informed Babu that the backup team had arrived. He looked at me.

“Umm … in that case, do we go need to go to the village now?”

“I can’t comment on that,” I told him. “I have put forward my views on the crime. Going to the village is your call, Inspector.

I looked at Paras and realised I hadn’t offered my condolences till now.

“I am very sorry for the loss of your son, sir. I hope we are able to bring the guilty to justice.”

With these parting words I nodded farewell to Babu, and turned around to rush to the nearest liquor shop.

Babu spoke in a slightly high-pitched tone. “You are not leaving? At least wait till they take the body away.”

I scowled furiously at him. “I think we should leave the bereaved family alone.”

Paras spoke again. “Please stay. Maybe you will find some more clues.”

When Paras spoke, everyone listened and agreed.

“Okay, but we shall wait in my car until they take the body away. I am sure you would like some time with your family to discuss things.”

“It is hot outside. You can wait in one of the other rooms,” Paras offered.

“Oh.” I looked at Pranay.

“Oh.” He looked back at me.

I said to Paras, “It is hot, but I insist that we sit outside. It would be nice to have a couple of beers just to keep us going.”

“Ram will bring them outside.”

Paras scowled at me for the first time. He was probably beginning to doubt my temperance. Not that I blamed him. It was hardly sensitive on my part to demand alcohol. But I needed strength to insulate my mind against Aditi, and against Babu’s verbal attack, while waiting for the ambulance.

“Thanks.”

Babu remonstrated with me for my insensitivity as soon as we were outside. “How could you ask for beer in a situation like this?”

I ignored him and spoke to Pranay.

“Call Aarti and tell her to lock the office and leave. Tell her to come tomorrow, and take her weekly off some other day.”

It was two hours and three bottles of beer later that I was able to leave the farmhouse. The ride back home was much slower. I tried to concentrate on what I had learnt at the scene of the crime, evaluating various possibilities. The mind, however, takes masochistic delight in suffering. I found myself thinking more and more about what I had lost three years ago.

I opened the door and tripped over Bruno again.

“Fat bugger,” I growled, and he responded by rolling on his back and inviting me with his paws to tickle his exposed belly. Bruno was an obese and lazy Labrador.

Pranay, sensing that I was in no mood to dissect the case, and probably pleased by it retired to his room. He came out five minutes later and asked formally, “Do we go over the case now?”

“Nah, let’s do it tomorrow.”

“Okay. You want me to do anything for you?”

“Yeah. Shoot the dog!” I said, rubbing my painful knee.

I tried to watch a movie, listen to music, and read a book – all futile attempts to isolate the past, but the mind insisted on wallowing in self-pity. Out of despair, I went to Pranay’s room to see what he was doing. He had stripped to his shorts, and was just about done with making a joint. Then Pranay poured some beer into Bruno’s bowl, and the beast lapped it up eagerly. Both of them knew that I got irritated when Pranay gave alcohol to the dog.

I told him off without conviction or malice. “Listen, you brewery – dogs are not supposed to drink.”

Pranay replied without looking up from his joint. “He’s not a dog; he’s a superdog.”

To show his support, Bruno licked the bowl clean. Pranay was laidback, pleasure-seeking, and rebellious. I was meticulous, responsible and deliberate. He looked at me and said, “You want a whiff? You look like you could use one today.”

For a moment I was tempted, but then decided against it. I left Pranay and Bruno to their Bacchanalian excesses, and retired to my room. I took out a bottle of Scotch. This would be one long night.

I
t was dark. We were on top of the hill again. The light from the moon lit her face, and her silky hair cascaded in the strong wind. Her eyes glistened with sad emptiness when she asked, “Do you think I am a bad person? Am I responsible for Chetan’s death?”