He stopped in his tracks and looked one last time at his victim.
‘Who would have imagined the old bugger had so much blood in him?’ he muttered to himself as the mist engulfed his receding figure.
Chapter 27
Agni picked up the morning newspaper as he sipped his coffee. He knew instinctively what to expect.
Agni spent the autumn nursing his heartache over the tragic turn of events last year. When the city erupted with festivities, when happy faces beamed all around and laughter echoed in the autumn air, when crowds thronged streets awash with lights, Agni was left to fend for his broken heart, holed up in his flat. He was conscious of his loneliness more than ever—that’s what the festive season did to him anyway.
He got busy with two other cases with lesser and lesser time for the Hiya Sen murder, but could not get the case out of his mind. He was irritable and angry with himself, as he spent night after night trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together, but failing to make headway. It seemed to him that all the clues were in front of his eyes, but they simply did not fit together into a logical whole. And the sounds of the dhaak and the crackers drifting into his twelfth floor apartment did not help.
The three offenders were still in custody. There was still no trace of Asif Bhai. Manav Chauhan had been released from the hospital and was back on Page Three. There were advertisements announcing China Valley would open its largest outlet in Kolkata in the Town Centre Mall, Manav’s newest shopping mall in the Salt Lake area. Manav himself was being spotted frequently with Neha Awasthi in social do’s as Agni had predicted, the sightings taking up more newsprint space than the status of the case. Everyone seemed to have welcomed the reconciliation between the Chauhans and the Awasthis. Rumours were rife that Manav and Neha would get married in the winter. The song Agni had seen being picturised on Rituja and the newcomer was being aired on television channels. Rituja expectedly drew flak from the media not only for the suggestive moves and the skin show, but also for having no choice but to romance actors considerably younger. It was rumoured that leading actors now refused to work with her anymore and that they opted for younger heroines they could bank on for ensuring a bigger opening at the box office. And a producer notorious for sleazy movies had announced his next project with Rituja and Mayank Kapoor.
The world had clearly moved on, but Agni lived in a time warp. His frustration over the complete lack of progress in the Hiya Sen murder case over the last several weeks was uppermost in his mind when he opened his eyes every morning. He went through his copious notes again and again. He classified his suspects into two categories—those who stood to gain materially from Hiya’s death and those who had a more emotional reason to see her dead. All of them, in Agni’s opinion, had very strong motives. Any one of them could have hired the killers. All of them roamed free.
He had been skimming through the pages of the newspaper, his mind clearly elsewhere, when his phone buzzed.
It was Arya.
‘Agni, good morning. I have news!’ Arya sounded excited.
‘Shoot,’ Agni put the newspaper down.
‘Lakhan Sahu was murdered last night!’
Agni sat upright.
‘Where are you calling from?’
‘We are in a slum at Tiljala. Lakhan was found dead in an alley here. Throat slit. He was out drinking last night with his friends in the slum. The officer-in-charge called me up because of Lakhan’s connection with Hiya Sen’s murder. I think you should be here, too.’
‘I’ll start right away.’
Agni felt as if the world around him, hopelessly frozen for what seemed like ages, had suddenly found life in yet another death, as if a giant machine had suddenly whirred back to life from its slumber.
Chapter 28
The lifeless body of Lakhan Sahu lay spread-eagled across a clearing that led to dingy alleys meandering through rows of shacks inside one of the biggest slums in the Tiljala area. He had a woollen cap on. A shawl he had wrapped himself with, was spread out on the dust. He made a gory sight, his mouth gaping, his face contorted in pain and with the shock he must have gone into in his last moments with imminent death staring him in the face. There was a deep gash through his throat, around which the blood had caked. He wore a printed kurta and a half-sleeved sweater over it, both of which were soaked in blood. The blood had coursed down to his cotton pants. There was a rubber slipper on one of his feet. The other slipper from the pair lay upturned about a foot away from his body. There was a garbage bin close by. A dirty gutter, filled to the brim, ran right next to where Lakhan lay. The stench was nauseating. Flies buzzed around the body. The forensic experts had a tough time keeping the dogs at bay as they went about their job.
‘Who would have thought the frail, old man had so much blood in him?’ that was the thought uppermost in Agni’s mind when he looked at the body.
He got down on a knee and looked for signs of scuffle. He could find none—no bruises, no scratches. It was just that deep gash that had taken Lakhan’s life. That was all that the murderer had wanted. Agni was told that Lakhan’s mobile phone had been found in one of his trouser pockets. Lakhan still had his purse in his hip pocket. The murderer had no interest in his money.
‘Which one is his house?’ Agni asked Arya, looking at the rows of shacks.
‘He did not live here, Agni. He moved with his family to a rented house away from the slum a couple of months back, after his release from the hospital.’
’What exactly happened last night, Arya?’
‘He would come here every Saturday to drink with his buddies. He was attacked on his way back home last night.’
‘Who identified him?’ Agni asked.
‘His friends who live here in the slum found the body. His wife was also brought here. She identified him.’ Arya filled him in.
Agni stood up and looked at his watch. His eyes went to the stretch of the Eastern Metropolitan Bypass at a distance. He could barely make out Deya, the five hundred-feet-high aerial skywalk between the twin towers of The Atmosphere at a distance. The morning mist was still thick.
‘I would like to meet his family,’ Agni made his way out of the slum.
Chapter 29
Agni stood in front of the distraught woman, who stopped wailing as soon as she saw him. A girl clinging to the woman looked up at Agni with wide eyes. Tears had dried on her cheeks. Agni assumed she was Lakhan’s daughter. One of the women who were busy consoling Lakhan’s wife shifted her attention to the visitor in the room.
‘I’m sorry about this, but I have to ask you a few questions. This won’t take long.’ Agni sounded apologetic, realising all over again how much he hated having to dispassionately question a recently bereaved kin of a murder victim.
Lakhan’s wife nodded.
‘When did you see him last?’
‘Around ten last night...after that, he went out drinking. I used to tell him not to venture into that slum so late in the night...he wouldn’t listen...’ the woman spoke under her breath, bursting into a fresh bout of tears.
‘I believe you stayed in that slum till a few months back. When exactly did you move to this house?’
The woman made silent calculations. Then she said, ‘About two months back. After he came back from the hospital. We came into a lot of money. We paid off all our debts and moved into this house.’
The revelation took Agni by surprise. ‘Do you know where all that money came from?’ he asked.
‘I’ve no idea...I never asked him....’
‘Do you know any of his friends in the slum? The ones he met every Saturday night?’
‘I know quite a few...all of them are crooked...asked him to stay away from them...but he wouldn’t listen! The worst among them was Asif Bhai...I was scared of him...gave me the creeps!’
The hair rose on Agni’s neck.
‘Did Lakhan know Asif Bhai?’
‘Everyone knows him...he rules this place! He used to suck up to Asif Bhai...I hated him for t
hat!’ The emphasis meant she was referring to her dead husband.
‘Do you know where he is now?’
‘No idea...I was happy when he left the place.’
‘When did Asif Bhai leave?’
‘Around the same time when he was admitted to the hospital.’
‘Was he still working with the Chauhans?’
‘He wasn’t...he left that job.’
‘Really? When did he leave that job?’ Agni could not conceal the surprise in his voice.
‘A few days after we came here...he took up another job...he said the pay was better....’
‘I see....’ Agni was deep in thought.
‘We were very happy...the money was good...he was also saving money for our daughter...but good times don’t last....’ the woman sobbed.
Agni looked around the room. There was a study desk stacked with books in one corner. There was a wooden table with a television set on it. He could see a set-top box and a DVD player. He could spot a small refrigerator in the kitchen. Lakhan was making money, no doubt.
‘He was so happy last night...’ the woman cried out loud, beating her forehead with her rickety hands.
‘Anything special about last night?’ Agni asked.
‘He said he had received a lot of money...’
‘You do not know where that money came from, I assume?’
‘No...I don’t know...I didn’t bother to ask...ever...he took good care of us...and that’s what mattered...’ she sobbed while sounding defiant of her ignorance of the source of money the family had been living on. ‘I thought it was the new job he had taken up....’
Agni realised there was no point in questioning her further.
‘If you remember anything or want to tell me something, call me on this number.’ Agni scribbled his number on a piece of paper and handed it to her.
Agni met Arya as he stepped out of the house.
‘Anything useful?’ Arya asked.
Agni put on his shades and headed towards his car.
‘He came into a lot of money about two months back when he paid off his debts and moved to this house. That was around the time Hiya was murdered. He then took up a new job,’ Agni sounded excited as he continued, ‘Go inside that house, Arya. You’ll see signs of suddenly acquired prosperity, unexpected of someone in his position. It can’t be just his chauffeur’s job! We will need to check his bank account.’
He stopped in his tracks and added, ‘And, he was close to Asif Bhai!’
Chapter 30
Arya’s excitement was palpable as he walked into Agni’s office. Agni was going through Lakhan’s autopsy report.
Lakhan’s clothes were soaked in blood, especially on the front aspect. A few defence injuries had been detected on the forearms. A cut-throat injury in the form of a deep, gaping incision was present on the front aspect of his neck. The wound had cut through the skin into the left jugular vein. The wound was directed from left to right, with greater depth on the left and trailing off to the right. This suggested that the assailant had attacked Lakhan from the back and with the right hand, inflicted the wound on the left side of Lakhan’s neck.
No other external wounds had been detected on other parts of the body. After overall consideration, the cause of death had been attributed to ‘shock and haemorrhage as a result of cut throat injury caused by a hard and sharp-edged object’.
Agni looked up from Lakhan’s autopsy report and gestured to Arya, offering a chair.
‘Agni, I have news for you!’
‘So it seems, indeed. Did you check Lakhan’s bank account?’
‘Yes, I did! Guess what? Lakhan made three deposits of hefty sums of money in his bank over the last couple of months. Eight weeks back, around the time of Hiya’s murder, he deposited a sum of fifty thousand. A month after that, another twenty-five thousand. On the day of his murder, he deposited another twenty-five thousand. There were monthly deposits of more reasonable amounts, presumably from his wage, as well. All deposits in cash, made by Lakhan himself.’
‘I guessed as much. There can be only one explanation. Lakhan was blackmailing someone!’ Agni got up from his seat and paced up and down the room, his arms folded behind him. He stopped and turned towards Arya. ‘Have you checked the call records of his phone?’
‘Yes, Agni. There are five numbers used more frequently than the rest over the last two months. One belongs to his wife. There is an outstation number that belongs to his family in Orissa. We have not been able to trace another number. It is a prepaid number and cannot be reached at the moment. We checked details of registration available with the service provider. They turned out to be fake!’
There were creases on Agni’s brow.
‘I won’t be surprised if the number belonged to the person Lakhan was blackmailing, Arya. And I strongly believe it’s that same person who killed him. Lakhan’s was the inevitable end of a blackmailer’s run of good luck! And you don’t expect the murderer to be available now at the number that Lakhan used. Did you manage to trace the other two numbers?’
‘Yes, Agni. The other two belong to the family he worked for. In fact, the last call made to Lakhan’s mobile that morning was from one of those two numbers. Now, guess who he worked for?’ Arya had a grin on his face.
‘Someone we know?’ Agni sounded impatient.
‘Deepak Awasthi, Agni! Lakhan had been working for him for about two months before he was murdered. They had no clue as to his whereabouts on the night of the murder, as Lakhan had taken the evening off. The next morning, they tried his mobile a couple of times, and then gave up when they didn’t receive a response from him. They came to know about his death when I met them.’
A potent silence descended inside the room. Agni tried to assimilate the fantastic revelation, and its possible implications.
He sat at the edge of his desk and thought aloud, ‘Lakhan’s purse was intact. His mobile phone was with him. Whoever killed him had no interest in his belongings. The murderer also had knowledge of Lakhan’s routine—the fact that he went to the slum every Saturday night and returned home late. This was a premeditated murder, Arya. So, why did Lakhan have to die?
There is undoubtedly a secret that Lakhan was privy to. Looking at the timings of the payments, that secret surely has something to do with the car-jack and Hiya’s murder. I am now more convinced than ever that there indeed was a plot behind Hiya’s murder, which was made to look like an impulsive action by a bunch of goons. This means that there was substance, after all, to the theory of Hiya’s death being a contract killing.
Now the question is, what was that big secret that Lakhan knew?’
Chapter 31
Agni paced up and down the room as Arya watched him in awe.
‘There are two possibilities here,’ Agni said. ‘Let’s consider the first. Lakhan might have come to know something while he was working for the Awasthis, probably soon after he took up the new job. In that case, it is likely that the Awasthis tried to silence him, first by paying him large sums of money at regular intervals starting with the fifty thousand that they paid him around two months back, then two instalments of twenty-five thousand each, and eventually killing him, when his demands became unreasonable, or, they felt otherwise threatened.’
Agni paused and took a sip of the black coffee from his mug on the table. He pushed the mug aside when he realised the coffee had gone cold.
‘In the second scenario, Lakhan himself played a part in the execution of that plan and then blackmailed the perpetrator. The Awasthis may have been involved. Or, it could be someone else.’
‘So, in this scenario, are you suggesting that, whoever had hatched the plan had taken Lakhan into confidence? You mean, Lakhan was an accomplice?’ Arya asked.
‘It is likely. And they agreed that Lakhan would take a few blows himself in the act to ward off any suspicion.’ Agni went back to his seat.
‘But what role could he have played?’ Arya wondered aloud.
‘Lakhan
was close to Asif Bhai. It is highly possible that Lakhan acted as a mediator. He might have introduced the perpetrator to Asif Bhai. There is another way he could have helped, Arya,’ Agni smiled, reclining in his chair.
Looking at the quizzical expression Arya had on his face, Agni continued, ‘In the choice of a convenient route. I asked you if anything struck you as odd after we had spoken to Lakhan in the hospital, remember? Now let me tell you what I found odd. The Chauhans live in Ballygunge Circular Road. When one is returning from Tipple, which is near the airport, one can choose to drive through the New Town Expressway or take an alternate route over the VIP Road Flyover. Although driving through the Expressway means a detour of almost ten kilometres and it gets deserted late in the night, drivers often opt for this route as it’s a more relaxed drive. One can avoid the congestion which is common on the other route. I’ve been wondering all along that, had the Chauhans chosen the alternate route along the VIP Road Flyover that night, the mishap could have been averted, as that route passes through a busy thoroughfare, even during late hours. You cannot rule out the possibility that the choice, in this case, was intentional!’
‘Why didn’t Manav object?’
‘Arya, this might have seemed to be a trivial decision at that moment. Also, let’s not forget that, Manav must have been extremely agitated over the incident at the club some time back. His wife was probably trying to pacify him. I think it was hardly the time to pick a fight with your trusted driver of more than five years for his choice of route. For all you know, Lakhan might even have offered a plausible explanation for his decision.’
‘Brilliant, Agni!’ Arya applauded Agni’s deduction. ‘Lakhan took a few blows himself, but was paid a hefty sum of money. After his release from the hospital, Lakhan left his job with the Chauhans to distance himself from the family he had betrayed. He paid off his dues and rented a new house. He took up a job with the Awasthis. But, his greed got the better of him and he started blackmailing whoever had hatched the scheme. The conspirator paid him on two occasions and then, decided to finish him off!’ Arya summed up the tragic turn of likely events.
The Colours of Passion Page 9