The Murder Suspect

by Rani Ramakrishnan

  My grandparents were sad to see me return. Even though they tried to make my life comfortable and happy, I always believed that they had taken me in because no one else would and that they too wanted to throw me away but did not know where to send me.

  By the time I was fifteen, my mother had been widowed and remarried to a middle-class gentleman who lived nearby. That was where she was living now, with her third husband and a million kids, grandkids, whatever. Mother was unhappy though. From the fast lane, life had forced her to settle for a snail’s pace. She wanted everything I had. She was so desperate that she would have admitted to murdering Piyush if that would have given her a life like the one she once had.

  I had always spoken about my parents in the past tense without explicitly stating that they were alive. My words always left things ambiguous, and, as intended, people assumed that my parents had died when I was young. Then I came here, and the media followed. Soon, they discovered that I had living parents. The world found another proof of my devious nature, and I became an even bigger criminal in their eyes.

  ◆◆◆

  Today, February 14, I was feeling nostalgic and missing Piyush more than usual. We were having a Valentine’s Day bonfire for the estate staff that evening. I completed a final cursory check of the arrangements and then went to get dressed. Soon my guests arrived, and I settled down to a fun evening under the stars.

  Suddenly, a hand fell on my shoulder from behind. I turned around with a warm smile to greet whoever it was and found myself face-to-face with Creep Choudhary. Seeing him, my smile froze, and my eyes became cold and hard. Blood drained from my face, and my hands itched to throw something at him.

  He was invading the paradise I had built away from the scandal in Pune. His mere presence had the uncanny ability to drive me mad. He also knew how to inconvenience me the most.

  He smiled, and I glared.

  In the politest tone I had heard him use to date, he said, ‘I hope my arrival is not too much of a bother. I see some kind of party is going on.’

  ‘You are always welcome at my home, Mr Choudhary,’ I replied in my most sarcastic voice. ‘It is a party for my employees. Join us. Can I offer you anything?’

  ‘No, thank you, Nalini. But I would like a word, please.’

  ‘Only one?’

  ‘More than one!’

  ‘Isn’t it always?’

  ‘It will not take too long.’

  ‘Do you have an office in town?’

  ‘No, we could talk here.’

  ‘Is there anything I get to decide?’ I fumed.

  He merely smiled. I snorted. I escorted him indoors to the study. All eyes at the party were on me as I walked out with him. Tongues would wag the moment I closed the doors behind me. My party was already a huge hit before it had even reached its climax. All thanks to the Creep.

  My stay here had been most agreeable until then. But within minutes of his arrival, I was already thinking of drinking and smoking, and I was nursing a headache. He was the most charming person and had the best effect on me.

  While I struggled with these troubles, the cause of all my woes sat across from me examining the book-lined walls without a worry in the world. Once my grandfather’s study, the room had ceiling-to-floor bookshelves along three walls, resembling a small library.

  On the fourth side behind me were hunting trophies—stuffed animal busts and nonsense like that which gave the room a musty air. The lighting was adequate, and the chairs were comfortable. The desk that separated us was huge and solid. I disliked the study, and I preferred to work elsewhere. I had no interest in taking the Creep to that room, so settled for this one.

  Why had he come? Not to wish me on Valentine’s Day, that was certain. Finally, when I realised that he was in no hurry but I had a yard full of guests to attend to, I started the conversation.

  ‘A long way from home, aren’t you?’

  ‘For me, every town is home, Nalini. I think the shoe fits you—or does it, really?’

  ‘This is not my home.’

  ‘You look as though it is.’

  ‘I am enjoying my stay. You are not here to torture me every day.’

  ‘You compliment me. Thank you.’

  ‘Tell me this, Mr Choudhary. Is there a rule that you should cause as much inconvenience as possible for any person you are investigating? I mean, today is a Sunday and it’s well past working hours for even a regular day, and yet here you are, on the job, I presume.’

  ‘I am here on the job. What reason can I have to visit you otherwise? About the rule, you are giving me more credit than I deserve. For instance, today I arrived late because these were the timings of the flight to this part of the world. I am afraid I am at the mercy of so many forces, the timings I keep are entirely out of my control.’

  I didn’t buy a word of that crap. I knew better than to trust him. Heaven wouldn’t have fallen if he had come during the day tomorrow. But he was here now. He was doing it only to irritate me, and I was more than irritated. I was furious.

  After that I shut up. To hell with my guests. Let them take care of themselves. I would wait for this man to talk. He was the one here on a weekend, eager to grill me. Why volunteer information and play into his plan?

  For a minute or two, I considered contacting my lawyer. Should he be present for this interrogation? Then I thought better of it. He was on holiday somewhere in the west and would not be reachable anyway.

  ‘This is a nice place you have here.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘So, you are loaded. You never mentioned it in any of our discussions.’

  ‘Did you ask me about my wealth? I may be wrong but I think the topic never featured,’ I purred with as much venom as I could muster.

  ‘My bad. You are right, of course. I never asked you if you had an estate in your hometown. But I vaguely recall asking you about your parents.’

  ‘I suppose you might have,’ I replied, unable to recall what the question had been or my answer.

  ‘You told me they were dead.’

  ‘As far as I am concerned, they are.’

  ‘Your estate is big,’ he said, changing tactics.

  ‘Yes, it is a fair-sized estate.’

  ‘It must make some good money.’

  ‘It does decently.’

  ‘If you sell it, you could become wealthy.’

  ‘I am already wealthy enough. Why sell?’

  ‘Then why didn’t you invest in IndeGen? Piyush would not have had to marry Pakhi.’

  If life were so simple, I thought wistfully. ‘I did not have ownership of this estate then.’

  ‘Why?’

  I wanted to reply as clinically as possible, without raising red flags. ‘The land belonged to my father,’ I said lamely. A raised brow was his response. He expected me to elaborate, so I did. ‘My grandfather did not leave a will. So, as his only child, my father inherited it.’

  ‘So how come you own it now?’

  The past made me sad, and I explained matters as succinctly as possible. ‘My father has a drinking problem,’ I began. ‘A few years ago he met with an accident and became paralysed below the waist. He took premature retirement because of acute depression. He also started drinking heavily. In spite of having financial troubles, he continued to drink.’

  ‘Then grandpa died,’ I continued. ‘He inherited everything grandpa owned. At first he was happy with the income from the estate. Living on the property suited his lifestyle. Others did all the hard work, and he drank in peace. When the money ran out, he borrowed. To repay lenders, he sold a few family heirlooms. Then a brilliant idea struck him: mortgaging the house.

  ‘The papers of the house were nowhere to be found. He checked everywhere, but they were missing. His lawyer advised him to get duplicates made from the registrar’s records. He applied for that.’ A rueful smile came to my lips when I recalled the incident that had happened three years ago.

  ‘When the papers arrived from the registrar’
s office, they found that the entire estate was in my name. The registration had happened on my seventh birthday; my grandpa had only held guardianship. I was too young to understand or recall all that. My grandfather never mentioned it to me, not even when I turned eighteen.’

  ‘Your father must have been devastated.’

  ‘The news broke him. He lives in a house nearby and sends me his bills.’

  ‘So technically you could have helped Piyush, but you did not even know it.’

  ‘Well, there you have it,’ I replied. He nodded, deep in thought.

  ‘Did you come all this way to ask me this?’ I asked curiously.

  ‘I came to ask you if you recognised this.’ He passed me an object in a polythene cover.

  Chapter 19

  I examined the object. It was Piyush’s watch. I felt a jolt. It was one thing remembering Piyush and an entirely different matter to hold something he wore. I nodded in response, unable to speak immediately.

  ‘So?’ Choudhary prompted.

  ‘It’s Piyush’s watch,’ I whispered.

  Choudhary nodded. I looked suspiciously at him. Had he come all the way to ask me if I recognised the watch? Impossible, my suspicious mind dictated.

  ‘We found it in the swamp, where Chirag was hiding. He had crept behind some shrubs and hidden it safely in an old nest. I needed you to confirm if it belonged to Piyush. Considering your condition, I made the trip instead of asking you to return to Pune,’ he explained.

  I could not believe my ears. Something was wrong. ‘You could have asked Pakhi about it.’

  ‘We did. She too said it was his.’

  ‘When she has already confirmed it, why do you need my response?’ I demanded.

  ‘I ask the questions here, remember?’ he said, instantly shattering the almost cordial atmosphere that had developed over the past few questions. It had been too good to last anyway, I consoled myself.

  He took out his mobile and fidgeted with it. Anger flared up inside me, but I held my tongue. He was checking his messages in the middle of our conversation! Was this his way of showing how insignificant I was?

  Then he handed me his phone. Confused, I took the device in my hands. Suddenly my voice spoke from the phone. I almost dropped the gadget in surprise. Then I heard Piyush’s voice. We were talking to each other. The words were familiar. As I listened, I realised these were words from a conversation we’d had at the resort. I was listening to a recording of our private chat.

  I was stunned. How had Choudhary recorded our discussion? Piyush had been alive then, and the Creep wasn’t even on the scene. Why was the recording surfacing now? Why was there even a recording?

  Then my heart stopped and I felt deathly weak.

  The sounds of us making love erupted in the room. Delivered with surround sound effects, the loud audio recreated the urgency with which we had come together that evening, leaving little for a passive listener to imagine.

  I scrambled to shut it off, desperate to stop our passionate cries from escaping out of the phone. I was embarrassed. Invaded! My face turned crimson. Choudhary reached out and touched my fingers. Singed, I jerked my hand away, dropping the phone.

  My senses only vaguely registered that he did not repeat the stunt. Instead, he picked up the dreadful mobile and shut down the noises.

  I looked daggers at him, ready to fling the first thing that came to hand at him. I saw an apologetic pair of eyes staring back at me. I averted my gaze. Tears threatened to pour out and embarrass me even more. I had only one wish, one sincere wish—to throw this obnoxious man out of my house and my life.

  He cleared his throat. I refused to look at him. I was still battling with my emotions and did not care to deal with his brand of sarcasm right then.

  ‘Sorry, Nalini. I did not mean to shock you so much. I wanted to confirm that those were your voices. That is why I played the piece without warning you. And...’ He hesitated.

  I stubbornly kept my eyes averted, too tense to speak.

  ‘And when I reached out just now, I only wanted to grab the phone to switch it off. Nothing else, trust me.’

  ‘Trust me’—the words echoed in my ears. I wanted to laugh. This man was a creep if ever there was one, and he was saying that I should trust him. If he were not a policeman, I would have told him exactly what to do with his trust. Now I felt bound, gagged, naked—as bared, exposed, and helpless as I had felt that night in the prison cell.

  I had almost forgotten that night. Now everything came back.

  ‘Nalini?’ his voice broke into my thoughts. ‘Nalini,’ he repeated.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you need anything? Water?’

  ‘No, I am good.’ Been through worse, I wanted to say, recalling my night in prison.

  ‘So the voices were yours?’

  ‘Yes,’ I replied, without the least bit of interest.

  ‘Do you know where I found the recording?’

  ‘No,’ I replied, still uninterested.

  ‘Are you sure you and Piyush did not record your...’

  I looked daggers at him this time, and he stopped mid-sentence.

  ‘I am sure. We did not record it.’

  ‘Could Piyush have recorded it without your knowledge?’

  ‘No,’ I said emphatically. I was sure. Piyush might have had an extramarital affair, but that did not mean he was not a good human being, or that he would secretly record our intimate moments without my consent.

  ‘I needed you to confirm this. That is why I had to meet you in person.’

  ‘Where was it?’ I asked, as my heart rate returned to normal.

  ‘We found it embedded in the watch.’ He was watching me with his hawk’s eye to gauge my reaction, no doubt.

  ‘The watch?’

  ‘We found a recording device embedded in the watch, Nalini. It had captured the last few hours of Piyush’s last day. The section you heard was right at the beginning. After that you guys had dinner with everyone and played some kind of guessing game. During that time, Piyush gave the watch to Chirag because he kept admiring it.

  ‘Later, it recorded Piyush and you taking Chirag to his room. Then late at night, close to 2:30 a.m., Piyush called Chirag and we could hear Chirag’s side of the conversation. Just as he’d said, we heard him repeating that he wouldn’t return the watch. He also shouted that if Piyush came to his room, he would run away and hide the watch. After that, we heard Chirag talking to himself, the noises in the swamp, etc.’

  ‘All of this was recorded and stored in the watch?’ I asked, stunned. Choudhary nodded.

  ‘Maybe Piyush learnt about that hidden recorder and that was why he needed to get the watch back urgently. That is the only logical reason for him to call Chirag at 2:30 in the night,’ I said.

  ‘Agreed, but how did he find out about the recording, that too in the dead of night?’

  Suddenly a thought struck me. ‘Did you play this recording to Pakhi?’

  ‘Not yet. We are not that insensitive, you know. I will share it with your lawyer, though.’

  I did not comment. I did not want that recording to exist, let alone be shared with anyone, least of all Pakhi. ‘Not yet’ he had said. So someday, he would. Like he had thrown the recording in my face when I was least expecting it, he would pick a day to catch her unawares. I did not want to be in her shoes on that day. It was one thing to know that your husband had a mistress and something completely different to be confronted with an audio recording of their lovemaking.

  ‘Was this a new watch?’ he asked, as usual interrupting my thoughts.

  ‘No, it was not that new, maybe a few months old. Why?’

  ‘It has only a few hours of data stored on it even though it has the capacity for more. Did anyone at the resort have access to this watch?’

  ‘I did,’ I replied. Once again, the evidence was pointing in my direction. I was sick of this nonsense.

  ‘Besides you?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ I thought har
d. ‘Wait... he removed his watch—we all removed our watches—before going snorkelling.’

  ‘Someone could have tampered with it then?’

  ‘I suppose so. If someone wanted to, that was definitely the best opportunity.’

  ‘Seeing that you are so eager to cooperate, any specific colleague who might have done it?’

  ‘Devyani, and maybe even Cy is involved.’

  ‘Wonderful! Why these two?’

  ‘Devyani was curious to know about the watch when Chirag returned from the swamp. Cy was walking around in the middle of the night. He should have been asleep like the rest of us. So where was he going? Whom did he meet? Also, he is a crappy person. I’ve never liked him personally. I’m sure he knows more than he’s letting on.’

  ‘Wow! Were you ever planning to tell me any of these thoughts?’

  ‘No, I did not think any of this was relevant. Besides, I am still sure that they did not kill Piyush. They had no reason to. It’s hard to believe they could murder someone, especially Piyush.’

  ‘It’s easier to believe that you killed him, I suppose.’

  I ignored that comment. What was the point in arguing?

  ‘Okay, thank you for your time. You can return to your guests. I will stay in town tonight and will see you again if I have any more questions.’ He excused himself and went away as abruptly as he had arrived.

  I sat in my chair, turned to stone. He was staying in town!

  My mind raced about frantically recalling the truth buried in my past, the reason for my flight from this picturesque town, and my resolve to stay away forever. Now that he was here, surely he would dig up the skeletons, and then there would be no escaping the truth. I would be well and truly finished.

  I would rot in jail.

  Chapter 20

  Twenty-one was an excellent age to liberate oneself, I was sure. So many failed attempts to run away, and now I realised that my day of salvation was finally here. I could walk out the door and nobody could stop me. The knowledge was intoxicating.