Wednesday Morning
The incessant buzzing of the phone alarm snapped Tim out of a fitful sleep. He welcomed the intrusion. It had been a long night. He stretched and winced as the past events poured into his mind. The young man swung his long legs over the side of the bed and looked out of the window. Unlike the foggy mornings of the past few days, it was bright and sunny.
‘Breakfast?’ asked Laila as Tim descended from the guest bedroom.
‘No, thank you … just a cup of coffee will do. I have to rush home before leaving for Charmwood.’
‘I’ll join you there,’ said Acharya, eager for action. ‘We have a lot of work lined up for the day.’
Tim’s phone rang as he revved his motorcycle. He turned off the engine and answered the call. From a distance Acharya and Laila watched the expressions chasing each other on Tim’s face.
‘Shit,’ he cursed. Getting off the bike, he walked back to the couple standing in the veranda.
‘What’s the matter, Tim?’ asked the colonel.
‘Tia’s body was found by a shepherd this morning.’
‘What?’ Acharya’s face registered his shock at the news. ‘Where is the body?’ he asked.
‘In a ditch at the bottom of the hill.’
‘Ever since she became untraceable, I feared something of the kind,’ the colonel shook his head sadly. ‘Have you informed the DSP?’
‘Yes.’
‘…And how did he take it?’
‘In the unusual manner. He ranted and raved as though I had something to do with the murder.’
Once again, Tim straddled the bike and revved it up.
‘Let’s go,’ said Acharya, climbing on to the pillion seat behind Tim. ‘This incident has skewed the investigation.’
Fifteen minutes later, when the two of them reached the site, the doctor was examining Tia’s bruised and lacerated body.
Grim faced, the colonel studied the corpse, which was lying at the bottom of a ditch lined with prickly bushes. She had landed on her head and was resting in a twisted position with her right hand stretched out as if in an attempt to reduce the impact. Glancing at the slope, he found it covered with thorny Hisalu bushes.
‘The body must have rolled down from the top. The gashes are caused by the thorns of the Hisalu,’ the doc declared. ‘As to the cause of death, I think it was caused by cranio-cerebral damages during the fall. The details can only be confirmed after an autopsy.’
As soon as the forensic expert finished his job, the body was taken away for post-mortem. Acharya searched the surrounding area for evidence, but failed to detect anything of interest. They would have to send for the search team and dog squad. He expected to find Tia’s phone, but it was missing. Disappointed, he trekked back to where Tim was standing.
‘What a horrible way to die, falling forty feet and landing in a ditch with a broken neck?’ the young man shook his head sadly.
‘Not a pleasant way to die,’ agreed the colonel. ‘Let’s go back to the cottage and examine her room. Her laptop might give us a clue to her background,’ he suggested. ‘In the meantime, ask your men to comb the area for clues.’
‘Do you think it was a suicide?’ Tim asked as they walked towards his bike.
‘Why would she commit suicide?’
‘I just can’t understand why Tia should have been killed. The girl was harmless.’
‘How do we know she was harmless?’ Acharya retorted. ‘I wish we had found her phone. It could have led us to some of her friends and colleagues. The laptop is our only hope, now.’
‘It could be Rohan, don’t you think so?’ asked Tim, revving up his motorcycle. ‘He killed Ramola for the property and then pushed the girl to her death.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘Didn’t you notice the interest he was taking in Tia?’
‘If he was interested in her, why would he kill her?’
‘I think Rohan may have inadvertently revealed something that would implicate him in Ramola’s murder, so he killed Tia. If he hadn’t done so, she might have tipped off the police.’
‘I don’t think it’s as cut-and-dried as that,’ said Acharya. ‘Let’s get to the cottage before JBS gets there.’
The guests were conferring amongst themselves when Tim and Acharya reached the cottage.
‘We’re not safe here,’ Ahuja complained as soon as he spotted them. ‘We must be given police protection.’
‘Don’t worry. Nothing is going to happen to you,’ the colonel assured him.
‘First Ramola and now Tia has been killed and you’re saying our lives are not in danger. That’s ridiculous!’ Ahuja snapped.
‘Ramola was killed because of her memoir. You haven’t written one, I hope,’ joked Rohan. ‘So, why would anyone kill you?’
‘What about Tia? The girl had harmed no one.’
Arif, who had been watching from a distance, walked up to Acharya.
‘Do you think it was a suicide?’ the don asked.
‘I don’t think it was a suicide,’ replied Acharya succinctly. ‘What was the state of Tia’s mind when the two of you went for a walk?’
‘She wasn’t her usual chirpy self,’ Arif replied. ‘She seemed rather preoccupied. Tia baulked when I broached the subject of Ramola’s murder. She said it wasn’t a good idea to start the day with talk of murder. So we discussed mundane matters like the Mumbai weather and pollution, life at Ramsar, etc. There was nothing to suggest that she was thinking of jumping off the cliff.’
‘You were the last person to be seen with her. That makes you a suspect in the killing,’ accused Rohan.
‘Watch your mouth,’ warned Arif. His eyes glittering with icy fury. ‘I will …’
‘What will you do? Kill me the way you killed Ramola and Tia?’ sneered Rohan, moving aggressively toward the don.
‘I’m warning you.’
‘Gentlemen, there is no need to get into a brawl,’ Tim intervened, pushing the younger man towards the end of the room. ‘I understand that you are upset but aggravating the situation is not going to help anyone,’ he counselled Rohan.
Leaving them to sort out their problems, the policeman and the colonel walked up to Tia’s room. ‘JBS is on his way to Ramsar,’ Tim informed Acharya.
The two of them began going through the girl’s room. The trendy but inexpensive clothes were neatly arranged in the wardrobe, as were the undergarments. A few cosmetics occupied the centre shelf, on one side of which lay a purse. A pair of expensive stiletto-heeled shoes stood at the bottom of the wardrobe. A couple of paperbacks and her laptop lay on the table. The neatness of the room spoke of Tia’s meticulous nature.
There was not much Tia had brought to Ramsar. It was obvious that she had not planned on a long stay.
‘We have to check her laptop for information,’ said the colonel.
Tim smacked his forehead after booting the girl’s laptop. ‘I can’t gain access. It is password-protected.’
‘This will have to be sent to the lab,’ sighed the colonel. ‘The process might take anything between twenty-four to forty-eight hours, depending on the difficulty level of the password and the expert’s mood. I wish there was an easier way to deal with the situation. I want another look at Ramola’s room. Is that possible?’
‘It’s sealed but we could break the seal after JBS arrives. He was informed about the body as soon as it was found so he should be arriving at any moment.’ The words were barely out of Tim’s mouth when a sonorous voice broke the calm.
‘Where’s Tim?’ the DSP could be heard bellowing in the hall below.
‘Speak of the devil,’ Acharya rolled his eyes and the two of them went downstairs.
‘There you are,’ said JBS. ‘Did you search the girl’s room?’
‘We did, but there was nothing that can help us find the killer,’ Tim replied. ‘There is a laptop, which could be of use, but it needs a password.’
‘That’s not a big issue. Our computer expert will crack the password in no time,’ boasted the DSP. He had become overly confident ever since the data on Ramola’s hard disk was retrieved by Nautiyal.
‘I want to take another look at Ramola’s room. With your permission, of course,’ said the colonel.
‘It’s sealed.’
‘I know, but a seal can be broken.’
‘Is it important enough to take the trouble? Haven’t you gone through the room already?’
‘That’s right, but I didn’t do a thorough search of the room and I feel I might have missed something. There’s no harm in being doubly sure, is there?’
‘Oh, alright, break the seal,’ sighed the DSP, looking deflated. The dual killing was beginning to take a toll on him. ‘I want you to ensure that both the rooms are sealed again after you are done with them.’
As soon as the seal was broken, Acharya and Tim began their search.
‘We have already gone through the room a couple of times, do you really expect to find something.’
‘One never knows,’ quipped Acharya. ‘I have been feeling as though we had missed out on something.’ He stood at the centre of the room, recapping his last visit. ‘I was going through the shelves in the wardrobe when I got distracted. You had seen the murder weapon through the window, so we rushed down without finishing the task.’
The colonel paused near the wardrobe. ‘Let’s check this area once again.’
Together, they pulled down the newspaper lining the top shelf of the wardrobe. They pulled out the box on top of the wardrobe and rummaged through the heaps of old film magazines and newspaper cuttings, which the star had preserved to warm the cold evenings of her twilight years. The cuttings carried stories of her successes and rumours about her dalliances. Beneath them lay a meticulously maintained scrapbook.
Acharya continued to flip through some photo albums stored in a box. The vast collection of pictures documented her life and career. A large envelope fell out from one of the albums. Curious, he riffled through the photographs in the envelope. They were group pictures taken during a family gathering. An adolescent Ramola stood along with her parents and brother. There was another couple and their son in the photograph. The colonel noticed a strong resemblance between the two men in the picture.
He handed over the envelope with the photographs to Tim, saying, ‘Give me your take on this photograph.’
‘Everyone in the photograph seems in a happy mood,’ Tim commented. ‘The two men look like brothers.’
‘Thanks Tim. I had the same thought, but needed another point of view,’ the colonel remarked. ‘This might be one of the last pictures of her family before her father died. I want you to keep the envelope. I will take a closer look at the photographs later.’
They continued to work together, putting the albums and the magazines back in their place, forcing the stack of newspapers back into the alcove above the desk. ‘Phew!’ the colonel finally straightened his back. ‘I’m not young enough to do this anymore. Tim, you will have to put the box back in its original place.’
‘With pleasure.’ Tim took the load from the colonel, saying, ‘I don’t want you spending the rest of the day in bed.’
‘A cigar would have helped clear my mind,’ said Acharya. ‘Unfortunately, Laila has put an embargo on my smoking.’
An hour later, he paused for one last look at the room, his eyes darting from one end to the other. Tim, who was speaking on the phone, turned and faced him.
‘Tia’s cremation is scheduled for tomorrow morning.’
‘Tomorrow? That’s rather quick. In Ramola’s case, it took longer for them to complete the formalities.’
‘I think Tia’s death is not as complicated as Ramola’s. The cause of death has been recorded as a cranial haemorrhage, whereas in the star’s case, there was the insulin as well as stabbing.’
‘Have the girl’s parents been informed?’
‘Yes, the police managed to trace the family through the address given by Tia while registering at the Misty Meadows. They will be arriving this evening.’
A thoughtful Acharya paced the garden, his mind abuzz with the latest development. He grappled with the crucial pieces of information that were lodged somewhere at the back of his mind. I’m getting old, he muttered. I can’t for the life of me remember the point that struck me while going through Ramola’s belongings.
‘Are you having lunch with us, saab?’ asked Dinesh, startling the colonel, who was lost in thought.
‘No, I am not staying for lunch,’ replied Acharya, hurrying towards the gate. ‘It’s time to use the joker in my pack,’ he muttered as he headed home.
The colonel’s friendship with T.N. Varghese, former DG of Police, went back a long way. They had been friends since their school days. None of his friends, except Varghese, knew that the H in Acharya’s name stood for Hercule. Acharya’s mother, a diehard fan of Hercule Poirot, had insisted on naming her son after the detective, but his father had put his foot down and a compromise was made.
Over the years, the two friends had stayed in touch. They addressed each other as Geese and Archie.
‘Am I not entitled to a bit of peace after retirement?’ yelled Geese from the other end. ‘Since you continue to poke your nose in neighbourhood mysteries, you think everyone is a busybody like you.’
‘Don’t yell, old man. I can hear you clearly,’ retorted Acharya. ‘Just because your hearing is weak, you think everybody is deaf.’
‘My hearing is not impaired, it’s your hearing that has gone kaput.’
‘Talk about yourself, old man. I am still young and charming. You don’t know the number of girls who succumb to my charm,’ chuckled Acharya.
‘Wait till I tell Laila,’ threatened Varghese.
‘Get serious, Geese. I need your help.’
‘I knew it; the miserly bastard never calls unless he has to ask for a favour. Shoot.’
‘You must have read about the Ramola murder case.’
‘How can I miss it, Archie? With the newspapers and television going full blast on the topic. Don’t tell me, you are at your old game again.’
‘Yes, I’m lending a helping hand to the local police. I want you to gather some information for me.’
‘Am I in a position to refuse? What do you want?’
‘I want a background check into Ramola’s uncle and his family. The uncle disowned her family after the father’s suicide.’
‘…and how soon do you want it?’
‘I would have said today, if I didn’t know how lazy you are. Tomorrow should be fine.’
‘You haven’t changed one bit,’ scoffed Varghese.
‘Nor have you,’ snapped Acharya.
‘Alright. I’ll call you as soon as I have the information,’ promised his friend at Mumbai.