Some Forensic Reports
Charmwood Cottage was wrapped in gloomy silence. It was a foggy morning with visibility reduced to a few feet. The guests were still in their respective rooms, warm in their snug beds. Suddenly the booming voice of the DSP rang through the house. He had arrived with Tim in tow and Durgabai hovered anxiously behind them.
‘Koi hai?’ hollered the DSP. ‘Where’s everybody?’
Dinesh, who had been leisurely sipping ginger tea, dropped his cup and hastened to greet the officer.
‘Are you still asleep, you rascally good-for-nothing?’ growled JBS. ‘It’s nine o’clock, where’s everyone?’
‘Saab, I was having my tea,’ protested the cook.
‘What about the guests?’
‘Arif saab and Tia didi went for a walk in the morning. I think he returned but I haven’t seen her.’
‘She couldn’t still be walking around. She must be in her room.’
‘Maybe, saab. Would you like me to check?’
‘No, I’ll let you know when to call her.’
‘It’s been freezing cold for a week now,’ mumbled Tim, taking off his gloves to flex the fingers. ‘And the weather unpredictable. Global warming seems to be working in reverse at Ramsar.’
‘You call this cold,’ scoffed the DSP. ‘As a young man, when I visited Ramsar, years ago, it was much colder than it is today and we hiked all the way from Almora to this place in the depths of winter.’
Tim refrained from pointing out that the layers of lard on his superior’s body were thick enough to keep the cold at bay.
‘Bring me a hot cup of tea,’ the DSP instructed the cook. ‘My bone marrow seems to have frozen.’
‘Samajh nahin aya, saab?’ Dinesh looked perplexed.
‘Never mind. Just get me some tea. Put a lot of ginger and sugar in it and top it up with cream.’
‘Sir, have the forensic reports been received?’ Tim asked, after the cook had scampered off to the kitchen.
‘Why do you think I’m here? Those bloody reports are a thunderbolt.’
Picking his briefcase from the floor, JBS took out a couple of sheets. ‘The death, as all of us had presumed, was caused by stabbing. What is surprising is that a large dose of insulin was found in her body.’
‘But, sir …’
‘Wait till you hear the rest! She was beginning to slip into a state of hypoglycaemia due to the high dosage of insulin. This, by itself, could have caused death within six hours.’
‘If the killer knew that she would die of hypoglycaemia by morning, why would he stab her? It doesn’t make any sense,’ said Tim, puzzled. The case seemed to be far more complicated than they had anticipated.
‘Correct. She was diabetic and the high dose of insulin injected into her body was lethal enough to kill her in a few hours.’
‘Someone must have injected the insulin with the intention of killing her.’
‘It means we’re dealing with not one but two killers,’ declared JBS, his eyes challenging Tim to defy his statement.
‘But, sir, isn’t it possible that the person, who injected the insulin stabbed her as well?’
‘Only an idiot would have done that. If he knew she was dying of hypoglycaemia, why would he stab her?’
‘I guess you are right.’
Just then, the gate swung open and Acharya, swaddled in a thick woollen cap, muffler, gloves and overcoat, trotted in.
‘You look like you’ve just arrived from the arctic,’ chuckled JBS.
‘I am not as young, DSP Young Bahadur,’ retorted the colonel. ‘Unlike the hill people, the Bengalis aren’t born with a genetic immunity to cold weather.’
‘I meant no offence, Colonel. I like the name “Young” Bahadur,’ JBS said, smiling broadly.
‘We were discussing the forensic reports,’ Tim changed the topic abruptly. ‘The reports reveal surprising details.’
The young man quickly updated Acharya on the autopsy report.
‘Why would the killer, having injected the insulin, decide to stab her? He knew she’d die anyway. Besides, excess insulin is hard to detect in a diabetic,’ JBS said.
‘D’you think there was more than one killer?’ countered the colonel.
‘I’m certain of it. We have to find out who they are and why they killed her.’
‘Who could have stabbed her?’ Tim wondered.
‘After studying the angle and location of the stab wounds, the forensic team has concluded that the murderer is a left-handed person. All we have to do is arrest the lefty,’ said DSP.
‘As easy as that?’ the colonel couldn’t help smiling.
‘Indeed. Now all we have to do is to ask Durgabai. She’d know who among the guests is left-handed.’
Acharya decided to take the wind out of his sails. ‘There is just one problem with your theory, DSP. You’re assuming that the killer is in this house and Durgabai knows him.’
‘Rubbish,’ hollered JBS, undeterred by the colonel’s googly. ‘The murderer is definitely one of the Mumbai guys.’
His explanation was cut short as Dinesh arrived with tea.
‘Call Durgabai,’ the DSP commanded the cringing cook. ‘After that, bring me breakfast.’
‘What shall I make you for breakfast, saab?’
‘Don’t try taking a shortcut by serving me the usual eggs and toast breakfast. I want aloo parathas with loads of stuffing and chillies. In the meantime, get me a mug of creamy coffee.’
JBS loved to eat. His huge appetite was a joke in the constabulary. ‘I’ll put you in the lock-up if you delay my breakfast,’ he warned Dinesh.
Although JBS had spoken in jest, the alarmed cook scurried away to do his bidding. Watching his hasty retreat, the DSP burst into cruel laughter. ‘That guy will never commit a murder.’
‘What about fingerprints? Did the forensic guys find any?’ asked the colonel.
‘There were no fingerprints on the knife or on the insulin vial but we know now that the stabber is a left-handed person. That makes our job easier,’ replied JBS.
Durgabai had arrived and was standing unobtrusively behind the men, listening to their conversation.
‘Oh, there you are,’ exclaimed Tim.
‘Saab, did you call for me?’
‘Yes, Durgabai,’ said JBS. ‘Tell me who is a lefty here.’
‘Lefty?’
‘Arre, lefty is someone who uses his left hand for doing everything.’
‘Oh,’ the woman thought for a minute. ‘I’ve not taken note of this, but I can find out and let you know in a couple of hours? Except Tia and the daaru wala, everyone is sleeping right now.’
‘Where’s Tia?’
‘She left for a walk this morning. She should have been back by now.’
‘That’s all for now, Durgabai. You can go,’ JBS dismissed the woman.
‘What about the data in the hard disk? Has it been salvaged?’ asked the colonel after Durgabai exited the room.
‘We are waiting to hear from the techie team. I expect them to get back with the information shortly.’
Acharya extracted a clipping from a pocket of his voluminous coat and showed it to Tim. ‘I brought this along. It was in the newspapers this morning. In an interview, Ramola’s publisher has given a statement about the memoir. He says that the star sent them the first draft of her manuscript. They will be published after carrying out the editing.’
‘Which means that Ramola’s memoir will be published, despite the killer’s attempts to block it,’ surmised the DSP.
‘Whoa,’ Tim whistled silently. ‘That’s the best news this morning. The murderer will be devastated to know his efforts have been in vain. No one can stop Ramola’s wish from coming true.’
‘My thoughts precisely,’ smiled Acharya. ‘I’m sure the book will be a bestseller.’
‘Getting back to the murder,’ Tim resumed, ‘the question is, exactly how many people were involved?’
The breakfast arrived and the DSP attacked it with the gusto of a starving man. For the moment, everything else faded into insignificance. ‘Would you like a paratha, Colonel?’ asked the DSP, suddenly remembering his manners. ‘They’re delicious.’
‘No, thanks,’ said Acharya. ‘I’ve had my breakfast and would hate to deprive you. However, I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee.’
‘You know, Colonel, there is nothing like a ghee-drenched paratha,’ the DSP embarked on his favourite topic. ‘Eggs and toast is not a patch on it.’
‘I see Sen coming downstairs,’ the colonel remarked as he walked out of the dining room with Tim.
‘Do you think we should disclose the autopsy details to him?’ asked Tim.
‘I think it’s better not to share the details right now. Information should be divulged on a need-to–know basis.’
Wrapping his jacket tighter, Sen walked into the room. ‘Good morning, everybody. I can see the police force is already here.’
‘Good morning to you. We don’t have the luxury of a sleep-in. At least not until the case is solved,’ quipped the colonel. ‘Bhalo achhen?’ he asked, lapsing into Bengali. ‘How’re you this morning?’
‘As good as one can be in weather fit for penguins.’
‘The weather must be quite a challenge for you, I guess,’ laughed Acharya. ‘A Mumbai Bengali caught in the Ramsar cold.’
‘How do you manage the Ramsar winter, Colonel? You’re a Bengali too,’ countered Sen. ‘Remind me not to come here in winter. I’ll have to shoot my film during the summers.’
‘Are you still considering making your movie in Ramsar?’
The DSP joined them with two steaming cups of coffee and handed one to Acharya. He burped loudly before recommending the parathas, ‘Director saab, you should try the aloo paratha. I had four of them. Dinesh is an excellent cook.’
‘Four aloo parathas for breakfast?’ Sen was incredulous. ‘I guess you won’t have to bother about your lunch, today.’
‘What are you saying?’ laughed the DSP. ‘I can have six more of them for lunch, easy-peasy.’
‘I think I’ll go with your recommendation, but I’ll stick to a single one,’ said Sen.
Turning to Tim, he asked, ‘So, what’s the latest?’
‘Read this and you’ll know.’ Tim handed him the newspaper cutting.
The expression on Sen’s face changed rapidly as he read through the news item. He was acutely aware of the three pairs of eyes riveted on his face and tried his best to appear nonchalant. It wasn’t easy.
‘So, what do you think of it?’ Acharya asked casually, as the director handed back the clipping.
‘Well, Ramola’s soul will rest in peace as soon as the book is published. For her sake, I hope the book does well.’
‘It may also succeed in demolishing a few careers and ruin a few marriages.’
‘If careers are demolished and marriages broken because of a book, so be it. It would show that neither the careers nor the marriages were strong enough to endure.’
‘That’s a sane view, or should I say a “Sen” view,’ guffawed the DSP.
‘I doubt if the others would hold similar views,’ said Tim. ‘Have you any idea what is in the book?’
‘How can I predict the contents of Ramola’s memoir? At the most, I can guess what she has written about me.’
‘Have you decided on the detailed storyline of your movie? I’d love to hear it,’ Acharya put in his request. He wanted to gain an entry into the director’s mind.
‘Sorry. I don’t give out the storyline till a movie is released.’
‘You want me to stew in suspense, I guess.’ Acharya made a wry face.
The conversation was interrupted by the strident ringtone of the DSP’s phone. ‘Hello, DSP Jung Bahadur,’ JBS growled into it. A minute into the conversation and his face split into a wide smile. ‘That’s good! Very good, indeed. Yes, yes, I’m starting right away. I should be there in about two hours.’
The DSP glanced at his watch and stood up hurriedly.
‘Damn! It’s already 10. I’m off to Almora,’ he announced, grabbing a fistful of aniseeds from a bowl held out by Dinesh. ‘An urgent matter requires my attention.’ Turning to Acharya, he added, ‘I’ll be here tomorrow morning with good news. Until then the two of you will have to hold the fort.’
Tim looked perplexed as he followed his boss out to the waiting vehicle. Minutes later, the DSP drove off into the fog, smiling to himself.
‘Did he get promoted?’ Tim mumbled.
‘I think it’s the parathas. They put the DSP in a good mood. He looks all set to crack the case,’ Sen observed, making his way back to the dining room with Tim and Acharya. ‘I need a dose of caffeine. Will you join me?’
‘I don’t think so. I have already doused my cells in too much caffeine,’ said Acharya. ‘I’ve got to get going anyway. There are dozen of tangles to unravel this morning.’
‘Carry on, boss. You are one of the busiest persons in Ramsar right now,’ said Sen cheerfully.
Tim’s phone belted out a jazzy ringtone. Picking it up, he listened to the caller, frowning intently.
‘I’ve got to leave now,’ he said, after disconnecting. ‘Would you like to come with me?’
‘Where are you going?’ asked Acharya.
‘To the police station. Sharad has come up with something interesting and I’m sure you’ll want to be there.’
‘Sure, I’ll accompany you,’ said the colonel. ‘In any case, I have to meet the doctor in his clinic. He said he wants to discuss something important with me.’
‘What has he come up with?’ wondered Tim.
‘We’ll find out when we get there.’
‘Let’s go to the police station first and then visit Dr Rawat,’ suggested Tim.
‘Has Tia returned from her walk? I want to ask her a few questions before we leave this place,’ said the colonel.
‘She’s a deep one,’ Tim remarked. ‘There’s something disturbing about her story.’
‘I agree that her story doesn’t sound convincing. Although I can’t imagine her stabbing anyone, I’ve not ruled out her involvement,’ said Acharya.
‘Let’s grill her after we meet the doc.’
‘Surprisingly she is nowhere to be seen. It’s past ten o’clock. The girl should have been back by now.’
‘She must be loitering around the market. Let’s go to the police station now.’
‘Tia should not be loitering around alone.’ The colonel’s furrowed brows conveyed his anxiety. ‘I am worried about the girl.’