by Vish Dhamija
‘Yes sir, I know that.’
‘Good.’
Isn’t it ironical that the oath is only taken by witnesses and not by their advocates?
‘How old are you, Mr Raj?’
‘I’ll be seventy-four this year.’
‘It’s quite commendable to have such good hearing at your age,’ Jay mocked. ‘I mean you could hear voices from the apartment across the street.’ The across was accentuated; it was an unfair remark at a witness in the stand, but Mr Raj had elected to be there. ‘Mr Raj, I don’t disagree that you have heard loud voices from the deceased Miss Pinto’s apartment. However, all lovers have tiffs, but their disagreements don’t end by killing each other, do they?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Thank you, Mr Raj. So, how long have you been married?’
‘Forty-seven years.’
‘Forty-seven years. Wow! Congratulations.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Have you ever been unfaithful to your wife?’
‘No.’
‘In letter and in spirit?’
‘Yes.’
The old man was clearly beginning to dislike Jay, which wasn’t wrong because Jay was about to throw a screwball. Every veteran advocate knew that if he did not stick to a linear questioning at cross examination it more often than not threw the witness off guard; the rehearsal is blown out of water, something the opponent advocate has worked hard on.
‘So you’ve never ever even had a moment in those forty-seven years when your mind has strayed to another woman?’
‘Not that I can remember.’ Raj responded straight-faced, though sweat beads had started appearing on his forehead.
‘Isn’t that just another way of saying “yes”?
‘No.’
‘No? Mr Raj, I do not like obfuscation. From now on if I ask something I want a clear response of “yes” or “no” please. Let me rephrase my question: have you never at any time in your forty-seven years of married life thought about a woman other than your wife?’
‘I might have thought of another woman but—’
‘So, it’s a “yes.”
‘Yes.’
‘And when you thought of another woman did you want a rakhi to be tied by her?’
Pratap Raj’s face flushed.
Talwar was on his heels but the Judge motioned him to drop back into his seat.
‘Mr Singh, where is this heading?’
‘Your Honour, if you could indulge me for a few more questions please…’ Jay pleaded.
‘Just a couple more, Mr Singh.’
‘Thank you, Your Honour. So Mr Raj when you thought of another woman did you want her to be your sister?’ Jay repeated the question.
‘It’s different.’
‘Who or what is different? The woman you thought about with the rakhi or the other one?’
‘Objection, Janaab. This is worthless questioning only to badger my witness. I cannot understand what this has for to do with the case at hand.’
‘Sustained. Mr Singh. Please advance the case. ‘
Jay raised his hands in frustration like he had been stopped making one of the most important points in the case.
If you think something’s made an impression on the judge, leave it at that. Just walk away. Sometimes less is more. If the point is well made, let the rest of your predation go to waste. You’re here to win the case not give a discourse to a demimonde of hippie disciples. Jay had already more than quelled the notion that being unfaithful in marriage could equate to being a killer. By discrediting Pratap Raj, he had successfully sown the seed that all men — even men with forty-seven years of marriage — strayed in their thoughts. It only takes an opportunity to translate that into reality. Net conclusion: Pratap Raj turned into a zero-sum game, a sheer waste of court’s time.
‘No further questions, Your Honour.’
Justice Nair looked at the clock: 2 pm. He still had time for another witness, but he was put off by the proceedings of the day. ‘I have another appointment, so I adjoin the court for the day. See you all tomorrow at 11.’
***
Jay was back at his office. He examined the whole file closely; pulled out crime scene photographs and looked at them under a magnifying glass. He studied the case for hours, noting each name, drawing a character of witnesses that Talwar had provided; he made a new flow of activities chart to put everything in a bead. He analysed the lab reports, the evidence file. Nothing. Banishing the statements recorded he started to penetrate the bare bones of the case. Statements can be flowery and made up; the realities don’t change with words. That is the core and that is the truth.
The Glock was still missing.
The phone rang. It was Manavi.
‘Got relieved from court early today, sweet cheeks?’
Sweet cheeks?
‘Yes, but still engrossed in the case.’
‘You think your client is innocent?’
‘Sorry, Manavi. This isn’t something I can discuss with you.’
‘So why don’t we discuss something else? We haven’t seen each other for some time, you don’t even call… are you bored with me already?’
Who said falling in love was all rosy?
‘No baby, just been busy. You know this is an important case, l—’
‘Why? How is any case more important than the other?’
She had a point.
‘Why don’t we have dinner together tonight?’
‘Only for dinner? Let’s go for a midnight swim too? I’ll bring my swimwear and a change. See you at 8?’
‘Yes darling.’
‘Bye sweet cheeks.’
Sweet cheeks?
Jay closed the files, capped his pen, uncapped it and capped it again. His fingers played with the buttons on the telephone for a few minutes before he called for Bhīma.
On the way to the farmhouse Bhīma updated him. ‘There has been an unusual loud fight in Kumar’s household, hukum.’
‘What? Something more boisterous and louder than the last one?’
‘Yes, and Kumar has left the house and driven himself to his friend’s house — the same friend with whom he had gone to meet some girl.’
‘A-ha. Keep a tab on this rutting idiot.’
‘Roger that, hukum.’
***
Bahadur was in love with the fact that Jay was in love. Since the time Jay had called from the office to let him know that Manavi was coming for dinner, he had gotten into a frenzy, cleaned the whole house, the bedroom, the pool… And the smell of lamb curry had driven Sheeba mental.
Manavi came at 8 sharp — you could set your clock by it. She wore a red dress, knee length, cut in a classic shape with a pencil skirt, draped bodice and finished strikingly with off-shoulder sleeves. Whichever way one looked at Manavi, one had to be totally blind to miss the magnetism she exuded. She carried a small tote, a change of clothing as she had hinted.
‘Hello sweet cheeks,’ Jay took her in his arms. ‘What’s with this new sweet cheeks?’
‘Just a term of endearment, I won’t use it if you don’t like.’
‘I didn’t say I don’t like it.’
They were still in embrace while Sheeba encircled them to break up so she could get some attention from Manavi.
True to her words, Manavi ensured they both had a dip in the pool before dinner, not at midnight though. They sat, sipping Rémy at the poolside after dinner before going to bed.
‘Please wake me up if your friend visits today.’
‘Who? Cooper?’
‘Yeah. The one who visits in the middle of the night,’ she smiled.
‘I haven’t seen him since the last time you were here…’
‘Is he afraid of me?’
‘Extremely scared.’
‘Why?’
‘Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror?’
‘Do I look scary?’
‘No. I mean it must be some kind of a mistake that they let an angel like you get ou
t of heaven for me…’ He smiled.
‘Are you trying to embarrass me?’
‘No.’
‘Are you trying to get me into bed with you?’
‘That I already have.’
‘For your information Mr Advocate, there is no law against making love again so just shut up and treat me like a real woman and not like some angel.’
TWENTY-EIGHT
The court was as packed on the third day as it was on the first of the trial. Jay still did not have any concrete evidence that could get Vinay Kumar acquitted. However, if you muddied the waters to a shade of chocolate brown by throwing in enough possibilities, one or the other might stick, he reckoned. And as soon as a doubt became reasonable and acceptable, acquittal would become easier. Nevertheless, if he could find the Glock, he was very confident he would link it back to Gina. How? This was Jay Singh and he could arrange for a witness who would happily accept that he hand delivered the Glock to Gina Pinto. Once he could prove it was Gina’s gun, there were endless possibilities he could play with. But time was running out. Talwar would soon run out of witnesses and then it was Jay’s turn to produce witnesses and evidence.
Talwar’s first witness of for the day was Dinesh Patel — the lead forensic scientist who had swept Gina’s apartment for physical evidence. He incessantly explained all the techniques they use for genetic fingerprinting, how they use repetitive sequencing, blah de blah. All generic stuff and nothing relevant to the case. Jay wondered if Talwar had some hidden agenda for having walked Patel down this path.
‘The hair and fibre we found in the deceased Miss Gina Pinto’s apartment positively belonged to Mr Vinay Kumar,’ Patel declared confidently.
‘So, it is logical—’ Talwar said.
‘Objection, Your honour.’ Jay stood up.
‘Please state your objection, Mr Singh.’
‘Logic, Your Honour, could be a set of rules based on one’s upbringing or schooling or one’s wrong set of beliefs, and hence not necessarily absolute.’
Don’t you love how lawyers distort even perfectly logical words?
‘Objection sustained. Mr Talwar, please rephrase your question.’
‘Yes Janaab. So, Mr Patel, it can be deduced—’
‘Objection, Your Honour. Mr Talwar should ask for facts not the witness’ deductions. Based on his short-sightedness the witness could well deduce that this earth is flat, but it won’t be a fact, would it?’
A bit of a murmur went around the court. It was another cheap shot, but it struck brilliantly.
‘Sustained. Mr Talwar, please continue with the facts and facts alone.’
‘Okay Janaab.’
‘Do I hear an attitude, Mr Talwar?’ Nair barked.
‘Not at all, Janaab, not at all.’
Jay felt like he had scored a small victory. Making Talwar sound contentious and the Judge reacting irately simply meant a point in the defence’s favour. Court cases were no different to playing cards. Throw in the ace to win the round at any given opportunity. For all practical purposes this witness’ testimony was now as useful as an appendix in a mammal’s body. But, he knew he couldn’t do this too often.
***
When his turn came Jay was prepared to further shred Patel’s testimony. Opening with simple questions, he shrewdly led Patel down the path that did not raise objection from Talwar and then delivered the knock-out.
‘Mr Patel, is it fair to expect that if you did a scene search of my home you’d find ample fibre, skin residue, hair and DNA of mine?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Patel looked at Jay, then at Nair; his countenance expressed it was a very stupid question.
‘And why would that be?’
‘Because you live there.’
‘According to Mr Raj — the witness before you, Mr Vinay Kumar practically lived in Miss Pinto’s apartment for four hours every evening, give or take. Wouldn’t a similar amount of hair and fibres from Mr Kumar be available at Miss Pinto’s apartment?’
‘Of course, yes.’
‘Thank you, Mr Patel. Nothing further. Your Honour, I am not sure why the prosecuting advocate bothered to call Mr Patel to the witness stand. It was a sheer waste of time. Besides Mr Kumar’s fibres and hair, he has a full wardrobe and shaving kit, etcetera at Miss Pinto’s apartment. All this is documented in the docket we’ve already submitted to the court. If only Mr Talwar had read the submissions…’ Jay left it at that.
The challenge in the case was that none of the advocates had any evidence. All State witnesses were being thrashed, as if they were novices bowling to Tendulkar. Similar thrashing was expected when Jay got his witnesses on the stand soon.
‘Court recessed for lunch. Don’t be late for the 2pm start.’
***
Vinay Kumar’s driver was coached and perfected by Jay Singh to sing the praises of his master’s character all through the testimony. Also, he would be probed on Kumar’s demeanour when he exited Gina’s apartment that sordid night in question: did Vinay Kumar look any different? Did he convey any signs that he had just killed another human being? Jay had had three rounds of rehearsals with Puneet, the driver. Nevertheless, given how he had been trashing Talwar’s witnesses, he wanted to have another practice session with him. For the first time in his illustrious career Jay Singh was scared. Petrified, to be honest. Talwar could — and most certainly would — mercilessly massacre every witness he would bring in. A game of equals always gets more vicious and bloodthirsty, and courtroom trials, unlike chess, don’t end in a draw. One wins, the other loses. And victory and losses are more than what they can be on a chessboard. It’s a question of reputation of advocates.
***
‘Thanks for sending your friend Akbar Ali. It was really nice of him. Nice guy, real gentleman. When could we have our next session, Jay?’ Anita sounded confident when she called Jay.
‘Anything important, Anita?’
‘Lots to talk about.’
‘Tell me then.’ Jay was enthusiastic. ‘What is this about? What golden nugget did Akbar Ali deliver?’
‘I don’t think it is something we should discuss on the phone. When can we meet face to face?’
‘You make it sound all so mysterious, Anita. I am most keen to know now…’
‘Let’s keep it tentative for Friday evening. Why don’t you give me a call on Friday morning and let me know? Does that work for you?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Oh, ma’am, now?’
‘So it is a treat.’
‘A real one and we might need some extra time, so I suggest you keep two hours free.’
‘Okay then, hopefully, I’ll see you on Friday.’
***
The afternoon session was called off. Talwar’s next witness — the lead in police enquiry — had been called into some other investigation and had sought to be relieved from court duty for the day. Given the circumstances, Justice Nair had obliged; he intended to attend the silver reunion of his friends from college. Nothing could have pleased him more.
TWENTY-NINE
The sun rose in the East. No changes there. The flowers were blooming. All was usual, but something had to give today. Nothing lasts forever, and neither could this case. In all probability, Jay knew, the DSP — Deputy Superintendent of Police of Saket precinct — was Talwar’s last witness. He also knew Talwar would press hard to crack open the case with his officer and that could well nail Kumar. And then factor in that he would get a chance to slaughter each of Jay’s witnesses and take the case away.
Jay played with Sheeba all morning. He always felt that her love was as unconditional as the love of parents for their children, never wanting anything in return. In a way he found playing with Sheeba highly relaxing. Then he breakfasted, dressed and picked up Julie on the way to the courtroom. Julie looked startling in a spaghetti top black dress, which was covered with a jacket that would invariably be removed mid-afternoon to show off the toned arms to distract. The trio, with the driver, arrived
at Saket Court well before time. It was only 10:45.
***
DSP Ashish Mehta was in uniform. He had all the ammunition that was required. Vinay Kumar was the only person with the motive to eliminate Miss Gina Pinto. Correct. Vinay Kumar was the only person who had the opportunity to carry out the job. Correct. Vinay Kumar was the only person who could be circumstantially linked to be at Miss Gina Pinto’s apartment at her time of death. Also correct. With motive, opportunity and circumstance having a close three-some there wasn’t anything pending to decide that Vinay Kumar was guilty. Or was there?
DSP Mehta explained all this to the court. Justice Nair’s countenance spoke a zillion words. With all the earlier prosecution witnesses, even with Jay’s histrionics, there weren’t any misgivings about Vinay Kumar’s character. He was a married man, and above all, a politician in the making, who kept a mistress. Forget the evidence; the reality was that Gina Pinto could have been — even without the altercations — a sore point that wouldn’t have exactly embellished his political ambitions. That he could have done away with her was understandable, but Justice Nair couldn’t have agreed to anything without evidence. DSP Mehta could provide that evidence. His testimony was vital. And he was delivering on that.
Jay Singh had known this. DSP Mehta was the last and greatest hurdle and Mehta wasn’t someone he could walk over. But DSP Mehta had erred on a horrendous scale, which Jay knew he would whip till it bled. Sometimes all the defence advocate needs is just one strong point or one miscue on the prosecution’s part to assemble the whole defence around it. That Talwar had been slapdash was something Jay couldn’t imagine. It appeared more like the DSP would have not agreed to be coached by an advocate. In any event, they had left a wide hole.
Or was it a trap for Jay Singh?
Asking a prosecutorial witness a question you don’t already know the answer to could be suicidal. Jay Singh didn’t want that outcome. No one likes a surprise being sprung on them. Not in the courtroom where the questioning and answering is for the benefit of the Judge. Jay had to approach carefully and craftily and cautiously. He could feel the vibrations on his iPhone when he got up to question DSP Mehta, but he intentionally ignored it. The last thing he wanted was to invoke Justice Nair’s wrath for picking up his phone, which was a strict no-no in court. He let the vibration — he reckoned it was a text, and not a call — die before he started talking. He put his hands in his trouser pockets to ward off any more such vibes.