Deja Karma

by Vish Dhamija

  ‘I never thought of it,’

  ‘Neither did I, Bhīma, neither did I, and hence, my comment — we, both, missed something. Change the course of the search, we might hit pay dirt.’

  ‘Roger that, hukum.’ Bhīma was visibly excited.

  ‘Who do you think Talwar will call as a witness next?’ Julie asked after the conversation with Bhīma was over.

  ‘Under ordinary circumstances, I would think any other prosecutor would bring in the ASP responsible for the investigation, but one never knows with Talwar; he’s not what you’d call a predictable opponent. He might save the ASP for later, it all depends on what evidence he’s got.’

  ‘Who would you call next if you were Talwar?’

  ‘The neighbour who reported the crime, but only if I was confident he wouldn’t make an ass of himself. I mean I’d train him before getting him into the witness stand. Should the three of us go for coffee somewhere before calling it a day?’

  ‘Sure, why not? Though, knowing you, you will probably be up all night preparing for tomorrow,’ Julie uttered.

  ***

  Julie was right. Jay went straight to the office after the coffee and skimmed through the entire case dossier again. Had he missed anything? On their own, most facts don’t mean much, they only start to add up when they’re put together and that was precisely what he was struggling with, because some of the pieces were missing. If only the bloody Glock would turn up or, at least, its origins become known. Somehow — whether Kumar was innocent or not guilty — if the Glock could be tied back to Gina, it would be an open sesame. However, with Bhīma’s sources of information drying up, the odds were not any better than finding a polar bear in Connaught Place. He was still deliberating the ifs-and-buts at midnight when there was a soft knock on his office door. Bhīma came by after he had been through the day’s logs on all his machines on the floor below with nothing new to report.

  ‘Bahadur called from home; should I ask him to reheat the dinner, hukum?’

  ‘What time is it?’

  ‘12:03,’ Bhīma said, reading from the clock that hung behind Jay.

  ‘This fucking work can go on forever.’ Jay closed the files. Before he got up he opened the first drawer of this desk and foraged for any alcohol. There was a half-filled bottle of Gentleman’s Jack that lay flat in the drawer. He picked it up, opened it, took more than a mouthful and switched off the lights. ‘Let’s go.’

  The two marched out like Twins: Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito, except that Jay wasn’t bald or round.

  With the bottle in Jay’s hand Bhīma did not think it was a good idea, but Jay insisted on sitting in front on the drive home. And he was the boss.

  ‘When was the last time you got laid, Bhīma?’

  Now, that was the last question on earth that Bhīma expected from Jay or wanted to answer.

  ’I’ve asked the team to find out how can a woman procure a weapon in Delhi, hukum.’

  ‘That doesn’t answer my question…’

  ‘But I thought you wanted to check if there was any way that Miss Gina had owned that Glock.’ Bhīma soldiered on regardless, ignoring the frivolous quizzing.

  Jay eventually got the message. He knew Bhīma hadn’t been with a woman for as long as he had known his faithful friend. Carrying on with that line of conversation would only shower embarrassment. What was the point? If Manavi hadn’t come into his life what would his own response be to this gross question?

  ‘Sorry Bhīma bhai,’ he murmured.

  ‘Hukum, please don’t humiliate me by apologising.’

  Jay took an enormous mouthful and finished the entire Jack in the bottle. ‘No, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Jo hukum.’

  ‘I’m in love, Bhīma. You know, it’s given me a purpose in life.’

  ‘I’m so happy for you, hukum.’

  ‘Am I too old for Manavi?’

  ‘Age, as a wise man once said hukum, is in the mind.’

  ‘The...n why doe...s Co..opa think it’s a ffuckin fant..asy ride?’

  Bhīma didn’t respond, but there wasn’t much point in him deliberating on his answer as when he eyed sideways on the passenger seat, Jay had slumped into his own paradise. Jay had imbibed more than he could handle in a span of a few minutes. Add to that he hadn’t eaten much all day since breakfast and the alcohol had reacted promptly and harshly.

  ‘Don’t do this hukum, please don’t do this.’

  TWENTY-SIX

  I hadn’t seen Cooper since the day he had promised to see Anita for me and pulled a rather nasty one leaving me looking like a first rate idiot. I was fuming, but getting concerned. It was quite unusual for him not to crop up for so long — it had been almost a month now. That was very unlike Mr Cooper. Was he really annoyed with my relationship with Manavi? Annoyed to the extent that he wouldn’t see me for so long or anymore? I simply couldn’t believe it. That wasn’t my friend. More significantly, that wasn’t Cooper at all. Lost in thoughts of Cooper got me worried. What if something bad had happened to him? However, wouldn’t that be too much of a coincidence that something untoward had happened to him just when we had a little disagreement? No, I wouldn’t even call it a disagreement as any reservation was solely from his side. In time, I knew, my friend would comprehend my perspective and come to terms with my relationship. Ah, how childish of me to even muse along those lines. Cooper was mature enough not to break an age-old relationship on something as trivial as that. Perhaps he was busy. Or travelling? Or maybe he, too, had found a love interest. That would be funny, really rib-tickling. I smiled, but the annoyance of his deleting his contact details on my iPhone returned. He could have simply declined to see Anita. Why agree to my face like an angel and then buy time to get away at the moment and tackle the situation later? And tackle he did for sure by pushing me under the train, leaving me to explain, to Anita, how juvenile I had been. What would she think of me? He hadn’t played fair with me this time. However, this was only the first time he’d played dirty. Everyone deserved a second chance, close friends like Cooper definitely did. I promised myself that if he ever did such a grave idiocy again I’d be the one who’d disappear from his life. Thank you very much. Though, inwardly I knew that I could never afford to part with Cooper. Forget what the advertising pundits have told you all along: sex doesn’t cause the most formidable adrenaline rush. Fear beats it by a huge margin. And the fear of losing a friend tops many.

  I poured myself my nth drink and sat in the living room looking at the pool, to count my blessings. All my life I had only counted the disfavours my life had meted out, and ignored whatever good I had got out of life. Cooper was, indeed, one of the blessings. Akbar Ali. Bhīma. Manavi. Sheeba. Yuvraj. My career — however late it had sprung. I had lots of good belongings in my life basket and all I ever fretted about was the bad part.

  I was aware that Akbar Ali would have met Anita earlier in the day while I was at the court representing Kumar. I should have caught up with him after the day’s trial, but I was so engrossed in the case and briefing Bhīma that I had almost forgotten about it. Now — I looked at my watch; holy shit, it was past 3am — I didn’t think it was a decent time to call and wake up Ali to ask. At this hour I’d only get strong expletives: incestuous references or anatomical impracticalities. Not that, at a decent hour of the day, he would divulge any confidential gen that he had afforded to Anita about me. And then it struck me, I had court in the morning and I needed sleep too. Or, at the very least, stop drinking or the moustachioed Justice Nair would literally debar me in the morning. I had seven hours to rest and to be alcohol free. I drank two litres of water and went to sleep.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  In many ways, a courtroom trial is akin to the complex game of chess. The game is not played on the board; it’s played in the mind. The tangible pieces on the board are always a few moves behind, like a delayed-live telecast of some game. You need to think ahead, anticipate all possible moves your opponent can make and plan your counter
attack for every option. The more accurately you can think like your opponent, the greater your chances of winning the game. If you cannot do that, play snakes and ladders instead because you don’t have a chance in hell. If Ramesh Talwar and Jay Singh ever sat down to play chess, the game would be a draw or they would continue till the cows retired and ended up in hamburgers at McDonald’s. Both were very similar in their approach and strategy.

  Talwar’s next witness turned out to be Gina’s neighbour who had made the call to the police.

  Mr Pratap Raj had retired as a professor of botany from Delhi University in the last millennium. An empty nester, his wife and he lived on the top floor of the building that overlooked Gina Pinto’s flat across the street. Given his age, his prostate woke him up a few times every night and he, after completing his business, normally wandered into the kitchen for cold water from the refrigerator. To his refrigerator’s right was a window, which provided a view into Gina’s bedroom. How lucky! He didn’t normally peep but, on the night in question, because the lights were on after midnight, his eyes gravitated towards her bedroom. And he saw her lying in a pool of blood. Ergo, he was concerned and called the police.

  ‘Approximately what time was it, Mr Raj? Talwar asked.

  ‘Why approximately? I can tell you it was exactly twenty minutes past midnight.’

  ‘How do you know for sure it was that time?’

  ‘I have a little clock-magnet on my refrigerator door, I see the time every time before I open the door. It’s an old habit. You see when I was young…’ The old man was clearly basking in the glory of being a witness in a high profile trial. He had all the time in the world. If given a chance he would have gone ahead and pulled out his wedding pictures to show to the court.

  Jay found nothing contentious in his testimony. This wasn’t the witness who could hurt. He let Pratap Raj carry on without any objections.

  ‘How do you know Mr Vinay Kumar?’ Talwar pointed towards the defence table where Kumar sat.

  ‘He visited our neighbourhood often.’

  ‘How often, Mr Raj?’

  ‘Almost daily.’

  Talwar looked towards the defence table again. Kumar’s countenance reflected that he did not know Pratap Raj or perhaps never even noticed that the latter lived around Gina’s apartment. As Nair’s eyes followed Talwar’s neck, Jay took the opportunity to shrug his shoulders to suggest so what?

  ‘Who exactly did Mr Vinay Kumar visit in your neighbour-hood?’ Talwar continued.

  ‘Miss Gina Pinto.’

  ‘How do you know that for sure?’

  ‘I have seen him get down from his car and go into the apartment across the street. Sometimes, inadvertently, I’ve seen him inside Miss Pinto’s apartment.’

  ‘How well did you know Miss Gina Pinto?’

  ‘She was our neighbour, so we occasionally bumped into each other.’

  ‘In your opinion, what kind of a woman was Miss Pinto?’

  ‘Objection, Your Honour: ‘“What kind of a woman was Miss Pinto?” Really?’ Jay repeated Talwar’s words for effect.

  ‘Mr Talwar, does this have anything to do with the trial of Mr Vinay Kumar?’

  ‘Apologies, Janaab. I withdraw my question.’ Talwar turned to Pratap Raj again. ‘So, you called the police, Mr Raj. What happened then?’

  ‘The police jeep arrived within twenty minutes. I came down, gave my account. Then, they went into Miss Pinto’s apartment.’

  ‘Okay. Now let’s talk about Mr Vinay Kumar. You said he came to see Miss Pinto almost daily, correct?’

  ‘Yes, sir’

  ‘What time did he usually visit?’

  ‘In the evening, after eight most days.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘Well, I didn’t see him coming every day but his car was parked outside the gate after eight.’

  ‘What time did he leave?’

  ‘Objection, Your Honour.’

  ‘State your objection, Mr Singh.’

  ‘Your Honour, unless the witness stood by the window every night to watch my client Mr Kumar leave, how would he know?’

  ‘Overruled. You can answer that Mr Raj.’

  ‘But, Your Honour—’

  ‘I just overruled your objection, Mr Singh. Do you have any more?’ Nair’s tone wasn’t exactly pleasant.

  Jay was riled, but he realised he better sit down. However, he knew exactly where Talwar was headed. He would very shortly take Pratap Raj down the path to assassinate Vinay Kumar’s character — vile, disgusting, adulterer — and the old man would harp on if not stopped and aid Nair conjure up an image of a demon. For that, he needed Talwar to step out of line or Talwar would be squeezing his gonads in a few minutes.

  ‘Let me repeat the question for you, Mr Raj. What time did Mr Vinay Kumar usually leave Miss Pinto’s apartment?’ Talwar had dexterously planted usually in the question to avoid any further confrontation despite the Judge overruling Jay’s objection.

  ‘Around midnight, I would say.’

  ‘And you would know that, how?’

  ‘Simple. I could hear the car start and leave in the still of the night.’

  Talwar deliberated on the answer as if this was some new theory from Darwin and needed consideration when all the crafty man was doing was letting the whole scenario sink into Nair’s mind: an adulterous man spending clandestine evenings with his mistress.

  ‘So, according to you, Mr Kumar spent his evenings in Miss Pinto’s bedroom…’

  ‘Objection, Your Honour. That is not a question.’

  ‘Sustained. Mr Talwar, do I have to remind you that you are not here to suggest or lead the witness in any manner. Please ask the questions, not answer them.’

  ‘Mr Raj, what do you think was the purpose of Mr Kumar’s visit to Miss Pinto’s apartment?’

  ‘Objection, Your Honour.’ Jay shot up. ‘Mr Raj just admitted his passing acquaintance with the deceased as a neighbour that he used to bump into occasionally — those were his words. I’m sure she didn’t have a tête-à-tête with Mr Raj to confide in him what her relationship with my client was.’

  ‘Objection sustained. Mr Talwar please take this as a warning to keep your questions in line.’

  ‘Apologies, Janaab.’ Talwar bowed and turned to his witness again.

  Jay objected numerous times; sometimes when it was logical, other times he took a cheap shot to break Talwar’s performance despite knowing that Nair would certainly overrule his weak objection. Nevertheless, Talwar soldiered on shamelessly till he circumvented the legal framework to extract words out of Pratap Raj’s throat that Kumar had an illicit relationship with Gina. The star witness also intimated that, in the past few months, there had been some loud arguments in Gina Pinto’s apartment and he had heard the noise from across the street.

  ‘Janaab, Mr Vinay Kumar is a vicious person,’ began Talwar as a summary of Raj’s testimony. ‘He had illegitimate relations with Miss Pinto although he is married and is a father of two. As Miss Pinto’s neighbour told us there had been fights in the near past, it all adds up that there was some disagreement between the two lovers, which Mr Kumar finished with a gun. We can all guess what those disagreements were, can’t we? Miss Pinto was impregnated by Mr Kumar, and I wouldn’t be surprised if someone told me she wanted her rights — right to marry, right to motherhood, a settled life — which Mr Kumar could not offer, given his electoral dreams. On the fateful night, after his libido was satiated, and his brain subsequently returned from between his legs to his head —’

  ‘Objection, Your Honour.’

  ‘Mr Singh, the prosecuting advocate is talking to me, what can be your objection to that? Please sit down. You shall get your turn.’

  ‘According to the records and witnesses so far, Janaab, Mr Vinay Kumar left Miss Pinto’s apartment after twelve and Miss Gina was dead between midnight and 2am. I don’t believe in coincidences Janaab, and neither should you. I shall provide you with even more evidence to prove that Mr Ku
mar shot Miss Pinto.’ With that Talwar sat down.

  ‘We’ll take a short break of thirty minutes. See you back at 11:30. Mr Singh, do you want to question Mr Pratap Raj after the break?’ Nair asked.

  ‘Yes, Your Honour.’

  ‘Mr Raj, please be back in thecourt at 11:30. Court is recessed.’

  Down came the gavel, softly.

  ***

  ‘Your Honour, firstly,’ began Jay Singh after the break. ‘The prosecuting advocate, Mr Talwar has been highly presumptuous in this morning session, by calling my client guilty even before the trial. I always assumed that that edict came from you, after hearing both sides.’ Said frivolously, but it struck home.

  Justice Nair looked at Talwar. Warning was rendered without words.

  ‘Secondly, the deceased Miss Pinto and my client, Mr Kumar were lovers. Consortium was expected. That my client was seeing Gina on a regular basis, and that they were expecting a child together, is something my client has acknowledged or rather proactively told the court — please refer to the statements filed by me on his behalf. They were having a child together. What more proof does one need to recognise love? It might not meet the moral code of ethics for some people that a man has an adulterous relationship, but we are not here to discern the good from the bad, the right from the wrong, and this trial is not about the extramarital affair of my client. This trial is about the murder of Miss Gina Pinto and simply because some paramour in some corner of the world once killed his mistress, isn’t it inductive reasoning stretched too far to assume all lovers resort to murder? Having an extramarital relationship does not implicate my client in the hideous crime of eliminating the mother of his unborn child. The evidence — or should I say the sham — presented so far does not support any probative charges.’

  Nair nodded as if in agreement, though Jay had no idea what was in the Judge’s mind.

  Jay turned to the witness box. ‘Before we begin Mr Raj, I must remind you that you’re still under oath.’