‘I see. And your wife?’
‘She is a professor, too. Economics. Both of us are at Fergusson.’
‘And does she have any siblings?’
There was a slight hint of irritation in Mr Shitole’s voice when he answered. ‘No. She doesn’t.’
Rathod realized that the police may have already asked these basic questions. He quickly said, ‘May I have a word with your wife?’
‘Look…umm…Inspector…’
‘Rathod.’
‘Yes, Inspector Rathod. We’ve already told the police everything we know. I was wondering if it’s necessary to bring my wife down at this hour to repeat what she’s already said… As you can imagine, she has had a horrible day, and so have our children.’
‘I totally understand, sir,’ Rathod said apologetically, ‘and I can’t even begin to apologize for this trouble. But you see, I have this one question nibbling away at me. And, to tell you frankly, it concerns your father-in-law’s death, so I couldn’t think of anyone else to get an answer from other than your wife.’
‘Perhaps I’ll be able to help you?’
‘Perhaps you will. You see, it’s like this. We know that your father-in-law was stuck to a massive advertising balloon, which was then lifted to a great height, and he was just…left there… left to die.’
Mr Shitole nodded gravely. The last thing he wanted to do at that moment was to imagine the way his wife’s father had died. Rathod went on, ‘But you see, what I don’t know for sure is this: Did he have the heart attack – the one that killed him – before or after he was strung up there?’
For a few seconds, Mr Shitole was quiet, contemplating. Then he said, ‘You’re asking me if I think he had his heart attack on the ground or in mid-air?’
‘Precisely.’
‘I’m going to have to say that I think it happened in mid-air.’
‘You’re certain about that?’
With the measured manner in which he had spoken so far, Rathod had expected Mr Shitole to think carefully before giving an answer. But, to his utter surprise, he simply said, ‘Yes, I’m pretty certain.’
‘How can you be so sure, though? I mean, there was no guarantee that Dr Nayak would have had a heart attack even if he was sent up there.’
‘Well, you see, there was. He had a weak heart…’
‘But still – ’
‘…and he had acrophobia! He was scared of heights!’
‘Oh, I see.’ This was news to Rathod, and he realized that only someone who knew about the doctor’s health condition could have used this information to kill him. It was a risky affair, though, because if the doctor had somehow survived, he would have revealed the identity of the killer.
‘Who else knew about his condition?’
‘You mean, other than me and my wife? Well, a lot of people knew. The doctors who treated him, some of his colleagues, close friends, the servants…’
‘Since when had he suffered from this condition?’
‘Well, the acrophobia had been there since his childhood. He sailed to England for his FRCS. Couldn’t fly. Couldn’t ride glass-enclosed elevators either. It was much worse earlier, actually – he was gradually getting better thanks to a new drug that has been developed in Germany and is being used in human trials.’
‘And his heart?’
‘He had his first attack around 10 years ago, after an incident…and it was a severe one. Weakened him quite a bit. He couldn’t get up from his bed for almost six months. But since then he had improved a lot.’
‘I’m told that, on the night he was murdered, he was seen leaving the house in a hurry?’
‘Yes, there was a call and he went out upon receiving it, and… well, didn’t return.’
‘What time did he step out?’
‘The call came at around nine. He left within the next fifteen minutes.’
‘His driver was on duty then?’
‘Yes, the driver lives in the house itself, but my father-in-law didn’t want to take him along.’
Rathod was surprised. ‘Didn’t that seem strange to you? Given his health condition?’
‘We were not around. We live in Pune. It did seem exceedingly strange to everyone who was in the house, and to us when we heard about it later. But he was not the kind of person who would listen to anyone.’
Rathod thought for a few seconds and then said, ‘Mr Shitole, did your father-in-law have any enemies? Someone who would’ve wanted to harm him?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘You said your father-in-law had his first attack after a certain incident. What incident was this?’
‘It was a family incident. Property related. Nothing serious.’
There was a slight hesitation in his voice that did not escape Rathod’s attention. He kept staring at the man in front of him and said in a calm voice, ‘Mr Shitole, I am here to catch your father-in-law’s killer. Anything that you may know but are not willing to share is only going to make my job difficult. I’m sure a man in your position understands that.’
Mr Shitole remained silent for some time and then sighed. Finally, he said, ‘Look here, I’ve already told you everything I know. It’s quite late now, and all of us have had a terribly upsetting and unsettling day. Tomorrow will be no different. So, if you don’t mind…’
‘There was a scandal!’ A firm female voice behind Rathod exclaimed. He turned around to see a middle-aged woman dressed in a robe, with dishevelled hair and eyes swollen and red from crying, standing in the doorway. This was clearly Mrs Shitole, Dr Madhusudan Nayak’s only child.
‘Priya,’ Mr Shitole said in mild protest, but it didn’t have any effect on the lady. Rathod rose from his chair and waited as her husband helped her sit down. It was evident from her demeanour that she was overcome with grief.
‘My father was one of the most respected doctors in the city. He was a learned man, extremely good at his work, very hard-working, and an out-and-out family man.’ Priya Shitole paused to catch her breath. Rathod noticed that Mr Shitole’s fingers were trembling. ‘But several years ago, a year before I got married, my father raped one of his patients.’
Except for the clock on the wall ticking away unfazed, there was pin-drop silence in the room. Rathod admired the woman’s courage, and the matter-of-fact manner in which she had uttered those words.
‘Do you know what my father’s speciality was?’ Priya Shitole had directed her question at Rathod.
He cleared his throat and said, ‘Yes, I’ve been told that he was a cardiac surgeon.’
‘You’ve been told only half the story. My father was a paediatric cardiac surgeon. The patient he raped was a ten-year-old girl.’
Priya Shitole’s eyes welled up with tears. Rathod’s headache began to bother him again.
‘The girl had a weak heart. And when she was raped, she… she died.’
Mr Shitole hung his head and sat in stunned silence. Rathod waited patiently.
‘There was a huge uproar after her death. The girl was an orphan, but she had an aunt with whom she lived. This lady went to the police. There was an inquiry, which acquitted my father, because the body was not found, nor were there any records of the girl having been admitted to my father’s hospital. Our family had to go through a lot of shame and ignominy. My mother had been suffering from very bad health for several years, and after the incident she began to wither away. A year later, just a month after my wedding, she succumbed to her illness.’
The atmosphere in the room had become so heavy that Rathod wanted to get out. His head was about to split wide open any time now.
‘It was then that my father had the first attack. But he recuperated from it. He went back into the world, started his practice again. But, although delayed, justice wasn’t denied to the poor girl. Look at how he died yesterday – hung naked for everyone to see and killed slowly, painfully, alone.’
Rathod hesitated for a moment and then said, ‘Mrs Shitole, I am deeply sorry for your loss.
And all I can say about this scandal is that since your father was not proven guilty, there’s no reason why you…’
‘It is true that he wasn’t proven guilty. But I know that he raped that little girl.’
‘How can you be so sure?’ asked Rathod gently.
Mrs Shitole’s entire body shivered violently again, her eyes filled with pain and anguish, and she stuttered, ‘B-because, because…’
In his long career, Rathod had seen many shocked and horrified victims. But never before had he witnessed the kind of horror that was reflected on the face of Priya Shitole that night.
‘That’s enough, Inspector!’Mr Shitole jumped in and hugged his wife close to his chest. ‘It’s time for you to leave now.’
Rathod watched the woman weep bitterly into her husband’s chest, and his mind went back to the words he had heard in the small, dingy room in Juhu several months ago: ‘ You think Anmol ’s death is the only instance in which innocence has been trampled on in this city?’
When he emerged from the doctor’s residence into a particularly hot and humid night, Rathod couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that he was up against someone…or something…that he hadn’t fully understood yet. As he sat in his car, Rathod suddenly realized what had been bothering him. He immediately picked up his phone and dialled a number.
‘Hello, Soorti? Yes, this is me, Rathod.’
‘Arre, Rathod Sir? What a pleasant surprise! How are you?’ Inspector Soorti said.
‘Yeah, I’m fine, listen…I need some information about this Madhusudan Nayak murder case.’
‘But I’m not investigating that case, sir.’
‘No, no…I know that. But if I remember correctly, you were in charge when that scandal he had been involved in broke all those years ago, weren’t you?’
‘Oh yes, that one…yes I was. I used to be in Mahim those days.’
‘Yes, I remember you telling me about this case,’ Rathod told Soorti. ‘You weren’t too happy with the way it was solved, isn’t it?’
‘Solved?’ Soorti exclaimed. ‘It wasn’t solved at all! It was closed, and the two, as you very well know, sir, are not the same.’
Rathod listened as Soorti sighed hopelessly. He knew that contrary to common perception men in the police force, at least honest officers like Soorti, did feel bad when justice was denied. After a moment, Soorti said, ‘Madhusudan Nayak was an influential man. But even an influential man can’t get away with a crime as heinous as that of raping and killing a little girl. And he was her doctor! But what could I do? The body was never found, and neither were any records of the girl having been admitted under his care.’
‘So, you believe that the hospital records were tampered with?’ Rathod asked.
‘Yes, and there were other issues too.’
‘What kind of issues?’ Rathod frowned.
‘Sir,’ Soorti’s response came after a few seconds. His voice had changed. ‘You’ve been around for so many years now, you know how these things work. There was a lot of pressure from the top. Everyone was in a hurry to shut the case. He was a very important man, after all. It was…disgusting…disgusting. I have a little girl of my own, sir, and every time I look at her my blood boils at my own failure.’
Rathod gave Soorti some time to compose himself. After a few seconds, he said, ‘The girl used to live with an aunt, didn’t she?’
‘Yes – her mother’s sister. The lady was a childless widow and she took the young girl in after her parents’ deaths. The lady used to work at a garment factory. Back-breaking job, if you ask me, but she had put her niece in a good school. A very brave woman.’
‘What was her name?’
‘Her name? Let me see…Achrekar, as far as I can remember. Shobhna Achrekar, I think.’
‘Can you give me her address?’
‘Oh, she’s dead.’
‘What!’
‘Yeah, she died around a year after the incident.’
‘How?’
‘Heart attack. Died in her sleep.’
Rathod didn’t speak for some time. One more dead end. He thought for a few seconds and then said, ‘This lady – the aunt – did she have any close friends? Someone I can speak to?’
‘None that I know of. But yes, there was a woman – an NGO worker, as far as I can remember. Her name was Mrinalini Pande. She had taken up the girl’s case and was helping Shobhna in her fight for justice. She had been a great support to Shobhna, a true friend. I’d met her back then; she was a fearless woman, very passionate about her work. But after Shobhna’s death, Ms Pande was devastated. I think she gave up her work at the NGO and became a recluse.’
‘Can you give me this lady’s address?’
‘Yes sure, I’ll dig it out for you once I am at the station tomorrow, is that all right?’
‘Yes. Thanks, Soorti.’
‘Anything for you, sir.’
Rathod realized that there was nothing else he could do for the rest of the night. He would have to wait until the morning to make any progress on the case. He decided to go home. Later that night he lay in bed, tossing and turning. It was a hot night, and the sweltering heat was unbearable. Soon Rathod realized he wouldn’t get any sleep if he didn’t take the pill that the doctor had prescribed. He rose from his bed, stepped into the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water and popped the pill. Then he came back into his bedroom and sat at the edge of his bed, thinking.
So it seemed Dr Nayak was indeed guilty of a heinous crime, although it hadn’t been proved beyond reasonable doubt. Rathod also had his doubts about whether Imtiaz Raza’s alleged crime – that of murdering his father for property – was something he was indeed guilty of. But both of them were dead – murdered in a ghastly manner. If Tony Mathew indeed had an accomplice, and if he was carrying out these fresh set of murders in the city, then it seemed to Rathod that the murders themselves would be connected in some way. And if he could somehow find out how, then perhaps he would be one step closer to the truth and the identity of the murderer.
On the other hand, if he was wrong about the accomplice, then there was someone else who was lurking in the shadows and murdering his victims in the exact same way as Tony had murdered his. The kite motif was unmistakable, and there was no way Rathod would believe it could be a coincidence. Nor would he ever believe that Tony could somehow escape from prison and commit these murders. It was either someone connected to him, or someone imitating him. Whatever be the case, it was quite clear that the killer would strike again. And it was up to Rathod to stop him.
He buried his face in his palms, frustrated. There was something he was missing…something he had heard earlier, but had not paid much attention to. Something that seemed important only after the second murder had been discovered. He tried to think hard and remember what it was, but it was difficult to concentrate in this blasted heat and irritating humidity. Several times, the thought of buying an air conditioner had crossed his mind, but Rathod had never got around to getting one. After all, thanks to his job, he hardly stayed at home and –
Rathod suddenly looked up.
Yes!
A few words he had heard a few days ago at Shantinagar police station flashed in his mind. Amol Bhave’s words.
Yes! Yes! Yes!
Rathod punched his left palm with his right fist and paced up and down the room. Could it be? Yes, it had to be! He had got it!
He knew what connected the murders of Imtiaz Raza and Dr Madhusudan Nayak!
30
The next day was an extremely busy day for Rathod. In the morning, he headed to Purvachal Hospital in Mahim, from where the ten-year-old girl had allegedly disappeared, to speak to a few of their staff. From there he went to Imtiaz Raza’s office and interrogated a number of people working there. Then he drove down to meet Soorti, had a detailed chat with him, and collected Mrinalini Pande’s address. When he returned to his car, Rathod wondered if he should call Aditya. But the moment he remembered that Aditya had lied to him about div
ulging sensitive information to Ananya, he felt furious. Rathod decided to confront him later, when things cooled down a bit. He also decided to carry out the rest of the investigation alone – something that he should have done right from the beginning – in the best interest of the case.
In the next few hours, Rathod made several stops. He visited the office of Ritz Property Developers in Tardeo, followed by the office of Asha Kiran Women’s Welfare Trust in Ghatkopar, speaking to several people in each organization and looking through their records. Then he drove all the way to an apartment complex in Navi Mumbai and spent some time with the residents and security guards there. Finally, when night had fallen, Rathod headed to Shantinagar police station. Amol Bhave was not in, but the officer on duty answered Rathod’s question.
‘Who, Iliyas?’ the officer said. ‘He got bail. We had to let him go.’
‘What! When?’
‘Around noon today. A woman came to meet him, and she brought a lawyer with her. They had all the papers in order.’
‘Does Bhave know about this?’
‘Yes, he was here when they came. He signed the papers himself.’
Rathod clutched his forehead in frustration.
‘This lady, the one who bailed him out. What was her name?’
‘Wait, it must be in the records,’ the officer said, opening a register. ‘Ah, here it is – Amina Raza!’
Rathod slapped his forehead. The officer looked confused. ‘Is anything the matter, sir?’ he asked.
‘The matter?’ Rathod lost his temper. ‘The matter? The matter is that the lady who bailed Iliyas out is the widow of the man he is suspected to have killed!’
The officer looked alarmed. ‘Are you saying that the two of them were in it together?’
Rathod shook his head. ‘You don’t understand. It’s…it’s far more complicated than that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The two murders – Imtiaz Raza’s and Dr Nayak’s – they are connected.’
The officer now looked at Rathod suspiciously. He said, ‘Please don’t tell me you believe all these ghost stories in the media? About Tony Mathew? He is behind bars, sir…how can he…’
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