The Case of the Vicious Vampires

by Ketaki Karnik

  The rest of us collapsed on the stools around Aruna ma’am’s kitchen table. I hadn’t realized how exhausting trauma can be. Seriously, what was this, except insane trauma? If only Sarla had been here with us, instead of being held captive. What would she have done? Even if she had been in another city, she would have figured out a way to help us.

  A bolt of lightning ran through me. I sat up straight. “A paper. Is there paper and a pen lying around?” Sid tore a few sheets from a small notepad lying on the table. Anna had a pen in her purse. “I’m sure Sarla was trying to tell us something,” I cried excitedly, and furiously scribbled what I remembered of the conversation. The others filled in the gaps. I ran the words through my head, again and again.

  ‘Kavya, it won’t make sense at first, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Think like you normally do.’ That was a clear message to me. ‘Think like I normally do’ meant think like a detective. But beyond that? Was the message coded? Like, if you knocked off every alternate alphabet or every alternate word. I tried; it didn’t make any sense.

  “Kavya, maybe there is no message,” said Anna. “Meanwhile, we need to check Aruna ma’am’s library for the book. After all, the kidnappers are under the impression that the second half of the safe combination is in Aruna ma’am’s copy.” Sid and Varun followed her in case the book was found and had to be hidden.

  Raima stayed in the kitchen with me. “Kavya, Sarla and Venky sir wouldn’t have had the time to think up a complex code. Anna is right. There is no secret message.”

  I looked at my scribbles. Raima was right. Sarla and Venky sir must have been kidnapped from different locations and suddenly found themselves thrown together minutes before the video call. No time to think. I sighed. We were pretty much dead, any way you looked at it.

  I crumpled the sheets of paper and flung them into the bin. “You tried, Kavya. That’s the most important part. The water is practically warm. Do you want cold water?” Raima asked kindly.

  I nodded. I could really do with something cool and refreshing. The freezer was locked, but the bottles of water in the fridge were fairly cool. I gulped down two glasses.

  “We didn’t find a copy of the book. Aruna aunty must keep a copy of A Brief History of Time in her office, assuming she actually does possess one,” announced Sid.

  “That’s it,” I exclaimed, looking furtively about. Damn! I had thrown it into the garbage bin. Oh well, who cares? I gritted my teeth and squatted down on the floor, next to the bin. It was surprisingly clean. I guessed Aruna ma’am ate all her meals in the dining hall since she didn’t have a maid; she couldn’t be bothered cooking. I dug through two apple cores, a couple of torn envelopes, plastic covers of the New Scientist and Outlook magazines, burnt shards of something like cloth and…finally the crumpled notepad sheets I had scribbled on.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I try tight-rope walking - without a safety net

  “Sarla wants me to think like I normally do, which, like Sid says, is full-on conspiracy theory obsessive. Sarla also said this is all very vague, which means that the clues they’re giving us are vague.” That made sense given they couldn’t have had enough time to make up proper clues.

  “I’m certain the first clue is in the name of the book. Why else would Sarla emphasize A Brief History of Time, and not History of Time? It is a popular book and all of us have heard of it, even if we are too young to read it.”

  “Sarla wanted us to study the book,” said Raima. “Maybe the clue is in the book?”

  Very likely. But, how were we to figure that out? Sarla and Venky sir must know that none of us, except perhaps Anna, had read the book. I knew of its author, Stephen Hawking, from my Science Club, but that was all.

  “If we knew what the clue was for, it would be easier,” said Anna. I looked back at the paper. Why was she stressing on History of Time? What is the history of time?

  “Sid, there is no sundial in the campus, is there?” He shook his head.

  What if History of Time wasn’t the important part? A vague clue. Made up in a hurry. ‘Study the book’ she had said. Strange word, ‘study.’ You flip through a book, or you read it, but ‘study?’ That was what you do with textbooks.

  “I have it,” I exclaimed. ‘A Brief’ - that’s the part Sarla wanted us to focus on. ‘AB’ and the word ‘study.’ It’s like a crossword puzzle. We need an alternate word for ‘study,’ starting with ‘a’.”

  “Academic,” blurted out word-whiz Sid.

  “And ‘B’ for building?”

  “B for block,” corrected Sid. “The Academic Block, where lectures are held. It’s shut now because it’s holiday time for students.”

  “I think Sarla is trying to tell us where they are being held. She is smart enough to realise Unseen is not going to let Venky sir or her go free, even if he ultimately believes they haven’t stolen the vaccine or have any idea who has. Their only option is to escape.”

  “The Academic Block is huge, Kavya. Lots of rooms. We’re going to take a while checking each room,” said Sid.

  Something told me Sarla would leave us with more clues. “What other part looks unusual?”

  “The Macbeth stuff, if you ask me. But I guess that’s the only way to get anything into Sid’s head,” said Raima. “He doesn’t understand normal English. Venky sir is only too aware of that.”

  “Very funny,” said Sid narrowing his eyes. “But the Macbeth thing was a bit much. Even for me.”

  Crinkles appeared beneath my eyes as we pored over the scraps of paper.

  “The first scene of Macbeth?” asked Varun.

  “That’s when Macbeth visits the witches. Oh God,” exclaimed Sid. “I really am a duh. Three. There are three witches.”

  “The room number,” all of us cried, at the same time.

  “You were right, Kavya,” said Anna with a wide smile. “Sarla did give us clues. They are being held in room three of the Academic Block.”

  Obviously, the reason Sarla had risked dropping us clues was so that we could rescue her. Except Venky sir and Sarla had assumed we would have the help of both NL sir and Aruna ma’am. Or, at the very least, one of them. But, we knew better than to trust either of them. We had no friends in ISIC. We were on our own. And somehow, we had to rescue Sarla and Venky sir.

  “Sid, where is the Academic Block?” asked Anna.

  “A little ahead of the Faculty Block. From your rooms, you would hit the Faculty Block first and then the Academic Block.” I knew the building Sid was referring to. The two-story rectangular exposed-brick block was a few hundred feet away from the Faculty Block and looked like a Lego building. Seriously.

  “How will we rescue Sarla and Venky sir? There are bound to be guards outside the room,” said Raima.

  None of us had any ideas. The only thing we were certain of was that it had to be done and the best time was post-dinner, when we were supposed to search NL sir’s and Aruna ma’am’s rooms in the Faculty Block.

  “Guys,” whispered Varun as we were walking through the back garden towards the exit. “I know you think I am always looking for a fight. But it doesn’t hurt to be over-prepared at a time like this. Remember we are at war.”

  On any other day, Raima, Anna and I would have been ROFL-ing at Varun’s war comment. Today, though… He pointed at a khurpee – the local version of a garden spade.

  Surprisingly, Raima was the first to say, “Not a bad idea Varun. These baddies are like seriously evil.”

  “Okay guys gather around me, look interested in the grass or something. I’ll stuff the khurpee into my handbag,” said Anna.

  “Hey, look at that flower. The small yellow one. It’s very rare,” said Sid loudly. By default, he had taken on the mantle of anything to do with smooth talking. And, with good reason, too.

  “Varun, you’re blocking the light. Shift up,” Sid moved Varun to the left, so that his back was facing out. Smart. As the tallest, he and Sid blocked the view of anyone spying on us from outside. An
na and Raima bent down to examine the flower. Supposedly. Anna stuffed the khurpee into her purse. But a small portion popped out; the khurpee was too long.

  We couldn’t afford to let Spy spot the khurpee.

  Raima unknotted the scarf she had slung over her shoulders and tied one end to the lower part of the purse strap. She let the rest of the scarf fall over the purse.

  “Paris fashion?” asked Sid mischievously. Paris or London. It looked super cool.

  “Wow Raima. You are definitely going to be my fashion consultant,” said Anna with a wink as she stood up.

  The phone rang as we eased ourselves out of the wicket gate, at the edge of the back lawn. “Aruna ma’am’s copy of the book must also be in her office room. We’ll search the Faculty Block, after the monthly call ends at 9:00 p.m.,” said Anna. I think Unseen was relieved to speak with a non-14-year-old because all he said was “Okay,” and hung up.

  “That went well,” commented Raima.

  “Surprisingly,” agreed Anna, lowering her voice. “That is probably because…don’t turn abruptly, but to my right…”

  I brought my left hand to my neck, and rubbed it, pretending to have got a crick. Gently, I turned my head to the right. A man was looking into his phone. Pretending to, of course. He would make a terrible actor. The same man we had seen as we were walking away after NL sir’s meeting behind the students’ old canteen.

  Varun’s watch buzzed. 19:30 IST. The dining hall doors were thrown open.

  “Give me a few minutes to finish reading this report before we get dinner,” announced Anna loudly, flashing her company logo on the cover page of the report in every direction. Hopefully Spy would fall for the charade. In reality, we were waiting for Reddy sir to enter the dining hall. While Anna pretended to bury herself in the report, the four of us talked animatedly about our history syllabus. Have you ever watched those awful plays by six-year olds who over act to the point that you want to shake them up? Well, that’s exactly what we looked like.

  “No personal stuff. We don’t want them to know any more about us than they already do,” was my sagely wisdom. As Varun declared that they should create a shoot-out game around Aurangzeb, Anna whispered, “He’s entering.”

  “Quick, let’s go. Hopefully, Reddy sir will have a leisurely dinner and chat with the others after that, instead of going directly to his room. Even so, we don’t have much of a window,” said Raima.

  We stood up, pretending to amble into the dining room and not rush in. Dinner packets in hand, we stepped out of the dining hall. “Where should we sit?” asked Raima. Loudly.

  “I know this super-cool place. Raima, you’ll love it.” Sid led the way, deliberately through the more wooded path. That way, we hoped to lose Spy. We settled down between dense shrubs and unwrapped our dinner packets.

  Hide and Seek: game start. Level I. Crouching low, between thick bushes, we crept towards the VIP guest house. Quick, yet quiet – somehow we had to manage that combination. A few minutes later, Sid extended his arm and pointed. The VIP guest house was in front of us.

  Difficulty level II: an open lawn on all four sides of the guest house. There was no cover. Our only hope was that Spy hadn’t followed us here. And that no one was in their rooms in the guest house. There was no plan, merely allocation of activities. Raima and I would check the window; chances are Reddy sir may have left it unbolted, like Sunil sir. Sid and Varun would try the door. Anna would keep a look out, but more importantly, help break the window if it was locked. The handle of the khurpee stuck out of Anna’s bag. That was our key into Reddy sir’s room.

  Anna counted down from five, silently, with her fingers. As she bent the last finger inwards, we strode towards the VIP guest house. Tread lightly, no sound, I kept reminding myself. But the sound of my footsteps echoed in my ears.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Gambling with our lives

  The boys reached Reddy sir’s room seconds before us. The door was locked. Varun and Sid extracted a bunch of random keys from their pockets and tried them one by one. The window was shut. Damn! But maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t bolted. Raima and I pushed together. It opened noiselessly. Unbelievable luck. We grinned at each other. Anna tapped us on our shoulders. “Hurry, get in. No time to celebrate.” Raima and I jumped in, followed by the boys and Anna.

  Anna drew the curtain shut. The only one who would notice this was Reddy sir. And if he was around, we had far bigger problems to deal with. Varun pulled the locked suitcase out of the cupboard and placed it on the floor. “Very light,” he commented. One of those flimsy click-locks held both the zips together.

  “Should we break the lock with the khurpee or use its sharp side to rip open the zip?” No surprise that Varun’s first impulse was to destroy things. Boys!

  “Neither.” I picked up two paperclips from Reddy sir’s desk. Sarla had once told me that locks like this could easily be opened using a paper clip. I took a sharp breath and steeled myself. If I wanted to be a halfway decent detective when I grow up, I better get this right. Sarla called lock picking ‘an essential skill of a detective.’

  “Kavya, two minutes by the watch. That’s all you get. Otherwise, we break the lock, Varun style. We don’t have time,” said Anna.

  Raima straightened a paper clip for me while I unfolded the other and pressed the top edge down by 90° to form a hook. I inserted the hook into the keyhole. Carefully. Too much pressure and the paperclip would bend out of shape. Too lightly and there wouldn’t be enough pressure on the lock.

  Next, turn the hook in the direction in which the lock opens. That would be clockwise, I guessed. But I wasn’t sure. I tried anticlockwise. The pressure seemed more than the clockwise turn, so, must be clockwise. Hopefully! I inserted the straightened paperclip into the keyhole. Keeping the pressure on both paperclips, I started rotating the hook clockwise. Nothing. Then, a faint click. Blood rushed into my head. I was close. I tried again. Click. More distinct this time. But the lock wouldn’t open. Come on, can’t be that difficult. I tried again. Click. Soft thud. Anna tapped the lock, with the khurpee, as it clicked.

  “Wow, you’re amazing Kavya,” said Varun. Stop smiling, don’t get distracted, I told myself. Varun doesn’t mean half of what he says. Raima unzipped the bag and Sid threw it open.

  The jewel case lay inside. The empty jewel case.

  Anna picked it up, fascinated. She had heard about it from us, but not seen it.

  “Why go through so much trouble to lock up an empty jewel case?” asked Sid. “He should have kept this locked when he actually had the jewels. Brainless.”

  Totally. That, though, was the least of our concerns now. The vaccine. Where was the vaccine? Who had it? I had been so sure that it had to be here, in Reddy sir’s room. Why else would someone as careless as Reddy sir bother to lock something up? I ran my hand around the inside of the suitcase. No hidden pockets.

  “We need to get back,” said Raima. Anna reluctantly placed the jewellery box back into the suitcase.

  “Wait,” I had heard something. Then again, I could have imagined it. I picked up the jewellery box and opened the top glass casing. The wooden plank separating the upper glass case from the lower fully wooden part was smooth.

  As I let my hand run over it, my fingers dropped into the collapsible slot leading to the lower portion. The separator panel easily split into two, across the middle of the case, making for a small opening. Cramazing (to use Raima’s new-found vocab)! The wooden separator panel was actually two panels, so perfectly crafted that it appeared to be one continuous slab of wood. Although the jewel case was a replica - or so Reddy sir claimed – I wondered how valuable it was. From the loose rusty hinges holding the separator planks, the case seemed like an antique.

  My finger hit an object. “We need to open the lower part,” I whispered hoarsely. We turned the box around. Eight metallic hinges – small but strong - sealed the bottom plank to the box.

  My hands trembled as I twisted the hinges. The lower pla
nk stayed fastened. Must be jammed, I decided. I inserted my fingernail between the frame of the jewel case and the edge of the lower plank. It wouldn’t open. Strange. I tried again. No effect.

  “Should I break it?” asked Varun.

  “Uff Varun, you can’t go around breaking everything,” groaned Raima.

  Of course! This is the stuff I dream of, and now that it’s right in front of me - I couldn’t recognize it. “There’s a secret way to open this box,” I exclaimed, carefully examining the case. “The hinges are decoys to trick thieves.” The colourful design on the back of the lower panel caught my attention: a pale pink lotus surrounded by leaves and small white flowers. I swept my thumb over the lotus and pressed it lightly.

  The lower plank fell out easily.

  “Oh my God,” said Anna slowly, as two rings, one set of earrings, four bracelets and two necklaces tumbled out.

  My head spun. What did this mean? Reddy sir stole his own jewels? Why? Was this connected to the Hyderabad theft Sarla mentioned? How did Moshin sir fit into all this?

  Trusty Raima brought us back to ground. “We need to leave before the kidnappers get suspicious.”

  “Let’s take the jewels.”

  Raima’s eyes popped out “Kavya are you mad? We are not thieves.”

  “No, no,” I said hastily. “Only till we get Sarla and Venky sir back. We’ll return them after that. Obviously. I have this weird feeling we may need them. Don’t ask me for what.”

  “No,” said Raima firmly. “We call ourselves Crime Busters’ League, not The Burglars’ League.”

  “I agree with Raima. We’re in enough trouble already. I don’t want to add any more complications,” said Sid.

  “How much worse can it get?” I had no explanation to offer, except a hunch that the jewels would be useful.

  “At any other time, I would have sent Kavya to an asylum. Today, though…” Anna looked at Raima and Sid.

  Sid grabbed the jewels and dropped them into Anna’s handbag. “Reddy uncle kicking up a fuss doesn’t matter. Anyway, he’s already claimed they were stolen. He can’t cry wolf again. Rescuing Appa and Sarla is the only thing that matters.”