‘How long are we likely to be held here? I have to reach Delhi by evening,’ said Arif. ‘I’m booked on the seven o’clock flight to Mumbai. Besides, I’ve got an important meeting tomorrow morning.’
‘I’ve been asking the same thing,’ said Sammy, ‘but haven’t received a satisfactory reply.’
‘They should have allowed us to leave the moment our statements were recorded.’
‘We’ve already given our statements so I don’t see why we are being detained. Do they think we murdered her?’ Sen had joined Sammy and Arif.
‘That’s absurd. Why would we murder Ramola?’ asked the don. ‘She had disgruntled us with the book announcement but I can’t imagine any of us killing her for that. I’m confident that she would have dropped the idea if we could convince her about the futility of the project.’
Tia looked unconvinced. She knew Ramola would never have dropped the book. It had become an obsession with her.
‘Coffee, anyone?’ she asked. Her throbbing head demanded a caffeine fix.
‘Yes, please, I wouldn’t mind a cup of strong coffee,’ Ahuja agreed.
‘A cup for me, too,’ said Rohan. ‘I am not in a hurry to leave,’ he added. ‘My conscience will not allow me to leave before my wife’s murderer is arrested.’
‘You’re right,’ Tia heard Ahuja saying as she moved the kitchen. ‘We should cooperate with the police. We owe it to her.’
‘The two of you are welcome to enjoy the local hospitality,’ said Sammy sarcastically. ‘I guess you have no urgent meetings lined up back home.’
‘There is no need to be nasty,’ objected Ahuja. ‘It’s about conscience and not about meetings. No one is indispensable in the world.’
‘I could point out a few who are,’ Sammy retorted. The masks had begun to slip.
‘Gentlemen, please,’ Sen intervened. ‘Let’s not squabble, not with Ramola lying dead upstairs.’
‘That man is an uncouth rogue,’ the director said in a low voice, trying to placate the actor. ‘It isn’t worth responding to him.’
‘You’re right. There is no point in getting into an argument with the hooligan,’ Ahuja agreed.
A flurry of activity began as soon as DSP Jung Bahadur Singh, aka JBS, reached the cottage. Like everybody else, the thickset man found it hard to believe that a murder had been committed in the peaceful hamlet. He threw a cursory greeting at the colonel and went around the house, taking stock of the situation. ASP Timothy Thapa walked around with him briefing him about the case. He narrated details of the party and the announcement made by Ramola in a meticulous manner.
‘It has to be an outsider,’ the DSP surmised. ‘I’m sure of that. No one at Ramsar would think of killing the film star. From what I have heard, it’s not a case of theft and robbery.’ JBS had his own theories about crimes committed in the area under his jurisdiction.
‘We’ve taken down everyone’s statement, sir. Would you like to take a look at them?’
‘The statements can wait. First, I want to examine the room and conduct a brief interrogation of all the chaps in the house.’
Just then a policeman came up to them and saluted. ‘Sir, the cook has reported that a knife is missing from the set of six knives in the kitchen.’
‘What kind of knives are they?’
‘They are single-piece high-carbon stainless-steel knives of various lengths, with wooden handles; some of them have serrated edges. The missing one had a six-inch-long blade.’
‘Search the grounds for the knife,’ the DSP ordered, stomping up the staircase. ‘In case it is not found, call for the dog squad. It is likely to be the murder weapon. Ensure that the fingerprints on it are not wiped away.’
He examined the body.
‘The stabbing angle indicates left-handed use,’ JBS remarked, studying the wound on the body.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘We will have to match the murder weapon with the wound, once it is found.’
The DSP spent considerable time scrutinizing the objects in Ramola’s bedroom. From time to time, he paused to dictate a few remarks to Tim, who followed him around.
‘Have the fingerprints been taken?’
‘The fingerprint expert has gone over the room and all available objects have been dusted for prints.’
‘I don’t mean the fingerprints in the room,’ the DSP was not in the best of moods. His chronic dyspepsia had been playing up since morning. ‘I meant the servants and the guests. I want everyone fingerprinted.’
‘That has not been done yet, we …’
‘Then do so, my boy. Get cracking. Seal the room after you’ve finished with it. We can’t ignore any detail, even the smallest one. I guess this is your first murder case, Tim.’
‘Yes, sir …’ The young man turned on his heel and paused hesitantly. ‘The politician, Sameer Kelkar, wants to leave Ramsar. He says he has important meetings in Delhi.’
‘There’s no question of allowing anyone to leave the place,’ thundered JBS. His booming voice was one of the key traits of his personality. That, coupled with his piercing eyes, never failed to scare the living daylights out of most criminals. ‘And that applies to everyone … no matter who the person and what his rank.’
JBS was famous for his firmness. The man followed rules, period. Not to be bent. Ever. No one could fault his methods, though they were crude and lacked finesse. Pompous and plodding, the man’s only saving grace was the total honesty with which he tackled his work. Over the years, his dogged approach had earned him many enemies. In a system mired with corruption, JBS had no hesitation in focussing the headlights on every wrong-doing in his territory. This rankled his seniors. His integrity was a bane for his wife, who was required to pack her belongings every alternate year.
‘Why can’t you be like the others?’ she pleaded after each transfer. ‘We never live anywhere for more than a couple of years. Look at DSP Bisht, he has been at Almora for the past six years and there is no sign of him leaving any time soon.’
‘What do you want me to do, woman?’ JBS had thundered. ‘I will not kowtow just because you want to grow roots in one place?’
The problem with JBS was not dishonesty but his lack of tact. Besides being dull and inflexible, the DSP loved the sound of his own voice. He had set ideas about solving a case, and refused to entertain innovative suggestions. Most subordinates refrained from making suggestions. Tim had learnt it the hard way.
Fifteen minutes later, Tim Thapa reported back to the DSP.
‘Sir, the ambulance has arrived and the body is being sent for post-mortem.’ Tim updated the DSP. ‘The fingerprints have also been taken.’
‘Good.’
‘There is one little problem, though.’
‘There will always be problems. What is it this time?’
‘It is Mr Sameer Kelkar, the politician.’
‘What does he want now? These netas excel in being a nuisance.’
‘Sir, he refuses to be fingerprinted.’
‘What! Why?’
‘I don’t know, sir.’
‘Bring him here. I’ll speak to him,’ JBS spluttered. The dyspepsia was getting unbearable. Years of irregularity and stress had taken a toll on his delicate system. He needed a glass of cold butter milk with a pinch of roasted cumin powder. It was his mother’s prescription, which never failed to quieten his indignant innards. Ordering Dinesh to get him a glass of the concoction, the DSP marched up and down the corridor, his hands in the pockets.
He was in an aggressive mood when Tim reappeared with Sammy in tow.
‘I hear you are refusing to cooperate with the police. So, what ails you, dear chap?’
‘Don’t call me “dear chap”!’
‘Alright. You are not a dear chap. So, what’s your problem?’
‘Two things,’ Sammy looked contemptuously at the DSP. He had faced many posturing police officers in his career. They didn’t faze him. Sooner or later, they simmered down and allowed him to have his way. This DSP would soon be eating crow, he had no doubt about that. In the meantime, he was proving to be a pain in the neck. ‘First of all, I’m in a hurry to reach Delhi because I have several meetings to attend. Second, I am not going to be fingerprinted like a common criminal.’
‘Gentleman, I’m trying to solve a murder case and you are obstructing the course of justice,’ JBS thundered, his voice climbing a notch higher with each syllable. ‘The sooner we find the murderer the better it is for everyone concerned.’ If he expected the politician to be intimidated by the roar, he was mistaken. Sammy didn’t bat an eyelid. Arms akimbo, he stood waiting for another volley of words.
‘Well, I’ve explained my stand. It’s up to you to decide.’
‘I’ve taken a decision. You will not leave until the post- mortem results have come in and you will allow yourself to be fingerprinted. That is my final word.’
‘Is that your final word?’ Sammy repeated sharply.
‘Yes, my final word.’
Without another word, Sammy strode to the end of the corridor and began making calls on his cell phone. Three minutes later, he was back, a smile playing about his lips.
‘Perhaps, a word with your seniors will change your mind.’
‘Are you threatening me?’
‘I am not threatening you, DSP. We are obviously not on the same page. Since you don’t seem to understand my problem, I am forced to find methods to make you appreciate my point.’
A minute later the DSP’s phone buzzed insistently. It was his boss calling from the headquarters.
‘JBS, let the guy go. Shit will hit the fan if you don’t allow him to leave Ramsar immediately.’ The order floated down the line, loud and clear. ‘And as far as your insistence on fingerprinting the guy is concerned, drop it. Don’t get on the wrong side of that guy. He could become the next CM or even the PM one day, and they have an elephant’s memory.’
The DSP’s face was changing colour rapidly. It had turned a deep puce.
‘But, sir … if I allow …’
‘Not buts and ifs, JBS. This one time, you will have to bite the bullet. Besides, this is an order, not a suggestion.’
Tim felt sorry for the DSP, who was exhibiting signs of apoplexy. JBS spluttered and fumed wordlessly as he finished the call. The sardonic smile on the politician’s face raised his blood pressure to a new high.
‘Why do politicians always play dirty?’
‘I was forced to do so. Believe me, nothing of this sort would’ve happened if you had just allowed me to leave; but, no, you wouldn’t listen. No hard feelings, DSP,’ responded the gloating politician.
Acharya, who had been listening to the interaction, stepped forward.
‘DSP, may I be of assistance?’ he asked. ‘I’d like to be involved in the investigation.’
‘Of course, of course,’ replied JBS, who knew all about the colonel’s powers of observation. Since there was a paucity of experienced policemen at Ramsar, Acharya had been helping them with their investigations, and the commissioner had immense faith in him. ‘You’re most welcome to join us. Tim is inexperienced and I am based at Almora, so your help will be appreciated.’
‘Thank you, JBS.’
The colonel turned to the politician, saying, ‘Just a moment, Mr Kelkar. I suggest you allow the doc to take a look at that cut.’
‘Hey, Doc,’ he called out to Dr Sunil Rawat, who had just arrived. He was heading for the clinic when he heard the news and made a detour to Charmwood. ‘Can you apply some antiseptic to the cut?’
‘I don’t need a doctor,’ Sammy protested. ‘It is just a nick.’
‘It wouldn’t do any harm to have it cleaned,’ insisted Acharya. ‘You have a long journey followed by a hectic time. It will be wiser to let the doctor take a look at it.’
Finding no excuse to avoid the first aid, Sammy submitted reluctantly to Sunil’s tender ministrations. The doc examined the cut and was about to dismiss it as a minor scratch when he caught a signal from the colonel. Rawat nodded imperceptibly.
‘It’s a deep cut. It could get infected,’ the doc advised Sammy.
‘Alright, but please hurry. I need to leave pronto.’
‘It will take just a couple of minutes,’ said the doc as he busied himself with the abrasion while Sammy spoke on the phone, conveying his plans to his minions at New Delhi.
As soon as the cut had been cleaned and an antiseptic strip applied to it, the politician ordered Ganesh to bring down his bags. Five minutes later, having resorted to the hand sanitizer again, he was on his way to Delhi. Steering Sunil aside, Acharya whispered. ‘I hope you have enough tissue for a DNA test.’
‘Yes, I’ve taken a pretty good swab,’ chuckled the doctor.
‘Good, keep it safely with you and I’ll ask Tim to send it to the forensic lab.’
A mini rebellion ensued after Sammy left. Arif, accompanied by Sen, rushed to the DSP and demanded an explanation.
‘I too want to leave,’ insisted the don. ‘If that rascal has been allowed to go, I don’t see why I can’t go as well. I have several urgent meetings lined up in Delhi for today.’
‘My movie is in the final editing stage. I have to go too,’ stressed Sen. ‘Each day spent here costs me a lot of money. I’m answerable to the producers.’
‘For God’s sake,’ bellowed the DSP. ‘How many times do I have to tell you people that no one will be allowed to leave until the murderer has been found?’ His frustration had added to the volume. ‘Nobody leaves here until we receive the post-mortem report.’
‘If that’s the case, why was Sammy allowed to go? Does that mean that he is not under suspicion?’ asked Sen.
‘It means nothing. He used clout and I was forced to let him go,’ the DSP confessed in a bitter tone. ‘If you can pull some strings, please do so. I’ll declare it a suicide and close all investigation.’
Tim heard the frustration in his voice. The police force had their work cut out for them, and it only got tougher when criminals began pulling strings to slime out of sticky situations. It was an agonizing experience for honest officers like JBS.
‘By the way, my gold-plated cigarette lighter is missing from the room,’ complained Arif.
‘You must have misplaced it somewhere,’ said the DSP, who had already formed an opinion about Arif. It wasn’t complimentary.
‘No, I didn’t misplace it anywhere. It was right beside my bed, on the side table until late evening and then it vanished.’
‘We’ll register a complaint about the missing lighter as well.’
‘It’s surprising how things have disappeared,’ mumbled Sen. ‘First, Ahuja complains about his missing wallet and now Arif’s cigarette lighter.’
‘Sammy is the murderer. I saw him coming out of Ramola’s bedroom last night.’ Arif spoke up.
‘Are you trying to mislead us?’ JBS challenged him.
‘I’m stating facts. Whether you want to follow it up or not is entirely up to you. I’m merely telling you that I saw him coming out of Ramola’s room.’
‘YOU SAW HIM COMING OUT OF RAMOLA’S ROOM?’ the DSP hollered. His face livid, he seemed close to apoplexy. Tim looked anxiously at his boss. ‘Why didn’t you tell us this before? You’re telling us now when he’s already gone?’
‘How was I to know that you would let him off?’
JBS took three deep breaths to calm himself down as his physician had recommended. Then, he sat down heavily on one of the chairs in the veranda. This was getting out of hand. First, the politician drives off and now this idiot is providing information that could have helped us detain the chap.
‘Alright,’ he said, inhaling deeply. ‘Can we have the full story? Tell me everything. Start at the beginning and skip nothing.’ The DSP adopted the good cop act. At his nod, Tim began making notes.
‘Well, after we returned from the judge’s house, I was too upset to sleep.’
‘What time did you get back?’
‘It was nearly 1 a.m. when we went up to our bedrooms. As I was saying, since I couldn’t sleep, I went into the corridor and lit a cigarette to help me unwind.’
‘Any reason for you to be upset? I understand you had just returned from an evening out.’
‘Ramola’s announcement about her memoir was the reason I was upset. In fact, everyone was upset about it.’
‘Go on, continue …’
‘I must’ve been there for about a couple of minutes when I noticed a shadow creeping away from Ramola’s room. I assumed it was her husband, Rohan.’
‘Why did you think it was her husband?’
‘After the previous party on Friday night, he had entered Ramola’s room and insisted on sleeping with her. She had thrown him out. We all heard her shouting at him. In fact, we joked about it the next morning.’
‘So, you assumed it to be Rohan. What made you realize it was the politician?’
‘Rohan is tall, about six feet, and slender. This person was shorter and heavily built. I moved out of the shadows and asked him what he was doing in Ramola’s room. Sammy stammered out an explanation but I wasn’t convinced. He looked terribly guilty.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He said he was too drunk and had mistaken her room for his own. I knew, of course, that he had not had any alcohol at the party.’
‘And then?’
‘Sammy went into his room and a couple of minutes later I went to mine, swallowed a sleeping pill and went to sleep. I didn’t get up until late this morning.’
JBS stared thoughtfully at the snow-covered mountain peaks in the distance, as his mind filtered and recapped the details.
‘Can I leave now?’ asked Arif. ‘I’ve given my statement and my fingerprints have also been taken.’
‘You may stroll around the town but you will not leave Ramsar. Why not make the most of the opportunity? You may not get another chance to experience the beauty of this town,’ barked the DSP.
The don grunted in exasperation before turning away abruptly.
‘Have you found the memoir?’ JBS asked Tim, suddenly.
‘We have found Ramola’s laptop but the hard disk has been formatted.’
‘What? Send it to the forensic guys. They can recover the data, I am sure. You mentioned that the girl, Tia, had helped the star in writing the memoir. She must have a copy of it in her laptop. Confiscate her laptop. I am sure the memoir have a connection with the murder.’
‘Yes, sir.’
The colonel was sitting with the doc at the far end of the veranda. Tia, Rohan, Sen and Ahuja were grouped at the gazebo, busy expounding their theories on the murder.
‘Here comes the bad egg,’ the doc muttered, watching Arif approaching them. Pausing on his way, the don studied the policemen who were combing the area. Led by their handlers, the dogs were hunting for the murder weapon.
‘What are they looking for?’ asked Arif. ‘I don’t see why they need the dogs.’
‘They are looking for the murder weapon. Are you scared of dogs?’ the colonel queried. The man looked ashen. He had read about cynophobia, a condition that renders a person terrified of animals, but had never actually met anyone suffering from it.
‘I don’t like those creatures. ‘I was bitten by a dog when I was six. Since then I’ve had a morbid fear of the animals.’
‘Don’t worry, we all have our phobias. The dogs are just doing their duty. The handlers will ensure that the creatures don’t come anywhere near you,’ Acharya assured him.
Arif disappeared into the house, mumbling an excuse. Ten minutes later, he was back with a mug of coffee in his hand. ‘The DSP has forbidden me to leave Ramsar, but I am allowed to loiter around the town. Does anyone want to take a walk down to the market?’ he asked politely, taking one last sip of the coffee.
‘I’ll join you,’ said Tia, who had joined them. ‘I need a few things from the market.’
‘The company of a pretty girl is always welcome,’ replied the don gallantly. ‘And since you’re familiar with Ramsar, you can be my guide.’
Acharya noticed that the girl was looking pale and jumpy. ‘That is probably a good idea,’ he said. ‘A walk will do you good. Ramsar’s air is quite invigorating. Before you go away, I want to have a word with you.’
‘Sure, Colonel.’ The girl nodded obediently. She had grown very fond of the avuncular colonel.
Tim joined them as the colonel led Tia away from Arif. A look passed between the two men. Tim knew that the girl trusted Acharya. It was best that the colonel dealt with the matter.
‘Where is your laptop, Tia?’ the colonel asked.
‘It is in my room.’ The girl looked perplexed. ‘Is anything the matter?’ she asked wondering about his interest in her laptop.
‘Do you have a copy of the memoir on it?’
‘My laptop doesn’t have a copy of the book,’ said Tia. ‘Ramola insisted that I delete all the files after the manuscript was completed. She didn’t want a copy of it to remain in my laptop.’
‘Didn’t she trust you?’ Tim raised his eyebrows enquiringly.
‘I asked her the same question, but she said it was safer to do so.’
‘Why safer? Did she suspect something would happen to the document?’
‘I don’t know.’ The girl wrung her hands and burst into tears. ‘I don’t know what to think any more.’
‘It’s alright. Don’t worry,’ soothed the colonel. ‘I will speak to you after you get back from your walk. I want you to be careful.’
‘Careful? Me?’
‘It’s just a matter of precaution. Nothing to get stressed about. I say that to everyone involved in a murder case.’ He hastened to put her mind at rest.
Acharya did not want to distress the girl but he was very worried. He feared for her life.
‘We will have to keep a watch over her,’ muttered Tim, as she walked away with Arif. ‘So she doesn’t come to harm.’
The colonel nodded silently.