‘What sample?’
Suddenly the witness pulled his shirt tucked in his pants, and raised it above his head. Every one present in the court was stupefied to see that his whole upper torso was badly bruised and there was a tape on the right side of his ribcage.
‘This sample,’ he said timidly. ‘I was beaten with a belt with a steel buckle. Broke three ribs. There are similar marks on my thighs and buttocks too, but I can’t show them.’
‘You need not show these too,’ the judge said sternly, ‘cover yourself.’
The witness did as asked.
‘He told me emphatically while leaving,’ then he said, ‘that he was being kind to me that he left my face unmarked and didn’t break a bone.’
‘Then?’
‘I was in bad shape but I couldn’t go to a hospital for the doctors there would have made me a medico-legal case which would have pushed me into further trouble. With great difficulty I returned to my hotel where I claimed that I fell from the stairs. The hotel had its own medical officer who gave me first-aid, taped my broken ribs, and administered some oral medicine. Now I appeal to the honourable court and the public present here to decide for themselves whether I could go to my father’s house the very next day! Could I be the mystery visitor described by the defence attorney who visited Tulsi Chambers on Thursday evening?’
The court came alive with excited whispers.
‘I, with the help of floor waiters, room-service staff and the front desk had managed to create the illusion that I was not in my room—only then I could have the complete rest and save myself from the fresh visit of Arthur Finch or some other demon like him. I had promised him that I would reach the casino with the money on Friday afternoon. He would have come to know in Mumbai itself that this had not happened, I had not reached the casino, I hadn’t even reached London. Then he would have restarted his search for me and my fate would have been worse than before.’
The witness stopped for a moment, then started again, ‘I had come to know about my father on Saturday night, but I could not go and stand by him. At that time it was neither physically possible for me to do that, nor did my better senses permit me to step out of the hotel alone. Somehow I reached Tulsi Chambers on Sunday morning, and joined the family pretending that I had just returned from London. Mingled with the family, I was safe from Arthur Finch because I was sure that he wouldn’t dare attack me in the presence of my family members.’
‘That fellow—Arthur Finch—where is he now?’
‘I don’t know, but he must be here in Mumbai. There’s only one task before him in Mumbai. Whenever he finds me alone, he will fall upon me like a ton of bricks.’
‘Your honour,’ Shah addressed the judge, ‘I request the court to take notice of the fact that this man has been a victim of physical violence, and he is under threat for his life. Under the given circumstances, Arthur Finch needs to be booked under section 307 of the ipc for attempt to murder. I request the court to also issue orders regarding his arrest, and prevent him from suddenly leaving the country.’
‘The court orders the police to register an fir under the cited section, and act on it as fast as possible.’
‘Thank you, your honour.’
‘Does the defence need to ask this witness any further questions?’
‘No, your honour. You may step down, Mr Ashok Changulani.’
‘It is now approaching lunch hour. The court is adjourned till 2 p.m.’
Jeet Singh’s mobile rang at about 1.30.
‘He’s coming,’ he heard Gailo’s whisper.
‘What’s he carrying with him?’ Jeet Singh, fed up with the wait, asked.
‘Suitcase.’
‘Two?’
‘One.’
One suitcase! Such a big amount could not be carried in one suitcase!
What was the matter?
Where had he left the rest of it?
Or probably, he had left all of it somewhere safe, and the suitcase was just a suitcase.
‘ok.’
He had slipped his hands into thin, skin-coloured latex rubber gloves so as to avoid leaving any fingerprints. He took out the revolver with the silencer from the briefcase and sat up alert in the chair. He placed the open briefcase on his lap in such a way that the revolver was hidden by the open lid.
The mobile rang again.
‘He is coming,’ Pardesi said, ‘just getting into the lift.’
‘ok.’
The room was in semi-darkness, as on his request the maid had switched off all the lights.
The door of the room opened.
He stepped in, carrying a suitcase in one hand, which, by the way he was carrying it, appeared to be very heavy. He turned and closed the door behind him, and then inserted his keycard in the slot near the door, which also worked as the main switch. He was surprised to see that the lights did not come on. He was surprised further when he heard the humming of the room’s AC.
How come the AC was working already?
Before he could think of a possible reason for the anomaly, he got a glimpse of Jeet Singh, sitting on the sofa-chair besides the curtained window.
He nearly dropped the suitcase.
‘Don’t let go,’ Jeet Singh said casually, ‘keep it in your hand.’
‘Wh-what?’
‘The suitcase! Ensure that your other hand is visible to me or else the bullet.’
‘B-bullet!’
Jeet Singh dropped the lid of the briefcase with his other hand.
Rajaram’s eyes popped out of their sockets.
‘It’s similar. The kill-cook model. No?’
Rajaram’s Adam’s apple jumped.
‘H-how come you are here?’ he asked.
‘The door was open. I came in and sat in my partner’s room. Any problem?’
‘H-how did you know the address?’
‘You are an important person. Read the address in a newspaper and came to know that the double-crossing, backstabbing traitor lived here.’
Rajaram nervously licked his dry lips.
‘May I ask you something if you have no more questions left?’
‘Wh-wh-what?’
‘Don’t you need a bodyguard here?’
‘N-no.’
‘Why?’
‘There’s ho-hotel se-security.’
‘Did you no good, no?’
He nervously shifted posture.
‘Where’s the rest of the money?’
‘Rest of the money!’
‘Yes.’
‘Nowhere, this is all I could lay my hands on.’
‘Bullshit!’
‘The door of the safe was closed because your body pushed it when you were running away. The safe got locked automatically. You know I couldn’t reopen it. The money that was out is here in this suitcase.’
‘The cook’s share?’
‘Yes. Let’s go fifty-fifty.’
‘Arre, I have the gun, you are in my custody. Show some consideration. Be reasonable.’
‘Th-then y-you tell me wh-what you want!’
‘We’ll go zero-hundred.’
‘What?’
‘And those few breaths that are still left in you. That too I want. Now!’
Jeet Singh pulled the trigger.
The first witness after the lunch was Shobha Atlani, the daughter of the deceased. The public prosecutor asked her some routine questions during which the witness confirmed that on hearing the news of her father’s death, she reached Mumbai from Kolkata the next morning. The search of Sushmita’s bag was carried out in her presence and in her presence the ten lakh rupees and her father’s precious ring were recovered. She was well aware of the fancy cutlery set present in the house. She also knew that one of the carving knives of that set was missing which, according to the police, was very likely the murder weapon.
‘Your witness,’ the public prosecutor said.
Shah nodded. Before getting up from his place, he looked at the witness with unblinking eye
s for a while.
The witness turned visibly nervous, and looked away.
Finally he got up and reached the witness box.
‘Your brothers live in England,’ he said, ‘what’s the state of communication between you?’
‘We talk over the phone,’ the witness replied.
‘Frequently?’
‘No, not very frequently.’
‘Did any of them ask you for financial help?’
‘No.’
‘Especially the younger brother?’
‘No.’
‘You came to Mumbai on Sunday morning, after hearing the news of your father’s death?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘With your children?’
‘No, I left them behind with their grandmother.’
‘You came here with your husband?’
She kept quiet.
‘Answer the question, and keep in mind that you are deposing under oath.’
‘No, he did not come with me.’
‘You came alone?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Where was your husband?’
‘He went to Mumbai, and then to Pune, on Monday, 11 May. I met him at the Tulsi Chambers flat on Sunday, the seventeenth of May. I don’t know where he was in between.’
‘In your opinion, the accused is responsible for the murder?’
‘Yes, certainly.’
‘Thank you, you may step down.’
Shobha left the witness box, and went and sat with her family.
‘Your honour,’ said Shah, ‘here I would like to call madam’s husband, Lekhumal Atlani as the defence’s witness.’
‘Objection, your honour,’ the public prosecutor said, ‘Mr Atlani is a witness for the prosecution.’
‘I don’t know of any rule that says that a prosecution witness cannot be called as a defence witness.’
‘If you insist on calling him, his status would be that of a hostile witness.’
‘I have no objections to that.’
‘Fine, then.’
‘Mr Atlani may take the stand,’ the judge said.
Atlani got up from beside his brothers-in-law and took the stand.
‘Your honour,’ Shah said, ‘as pointed out by the prosecution, this is a hostile witness, so, I’ll have to ask leading questions.’
The judge nodded.
‘Mr Atlani, you’re the son-in-law of the Changulani family, the husband of the only daughter of the deceased. So, it can be said that your status is that of a family member?’
‘Well, I think so.’
‘So, the deceased’s Tulsi Chambers flat is also your home?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘You too have a key to that flat?’
‘My wife Shobha has one.’
‘So one key was made available to both the husband and wife?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘When you were in Mumbai, the key was with Shobha, your wife?’
‘No, it was with me. I took the key from her when I started for Mumbai.’
‘It was a practical thing to do. For the key was of any use in Mumbai only, not in Kolkata. Am I right?’
‘Yes.’
‘There was a fancy, expensive cutlery set in the house, which has been mentioned many times in this court, and about which the witnesses have said that they were aware of its existence. What’s your position on that?’
‘I am also aware of it. Many a time I have had lunch and dinner when that cutlery set and a matching dinner set was in use.’
‘Great! You just heard the statement of your wife?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘According to her, you reached Mumbai on Monday, 11 May in the morning, and from the airport itself, you went to Pune by road?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘When did you return?’
‘On Wednesday evening.’
‘And then?’
‘Then what?’
‘What was your schedule after that?’
‘What else could I have done? I had a return flight on Wednesday evening.’
‘So, whatever work you had to do on that trip, you did in Pune?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘There was no engagement in Mumbai?’
‘Yes, that was so.’
‘But you did not return to Kolkata!’
‘Sir!’
‘I think you did not have your undivided attention towards the statement of your wife!’
‘What do you want to say?’
‘I want to say that as per your wife, you left the house on Monday, the eleventh of May and met her at the Tulsi Chambers flat on Sunday, the seventeenth of May, that is a day after the death of her father. The wife has stated that she never knew where you were in-between. So clearly you were not at your own house in Kolkata between Wednesday and Saturday!’
The witness kept quiet.
‘You said that you had a flight booked for Kolkata on Wednesday evening. If you boarded that flight, then where did you disappear after your arrival at Kolkata? Where did you go when you didn’t go home?’
‘Objection, your honour,’ the public prosecutor said, ‘this is a leading question.’
‘Of course it is. It is because I am facing a hostile witness.’
‘Overruled!’ judge said.
‘Answer the question, Mr Atlani,’ Shah said.
The witness kept quiet. It was clear he was finding it difficult to answer the question.
‘May I help you in answering the question?’
The witness looked up.
‘You have laid a lot of emphasis on your return flight but you didn’t say even for once that you boarded that flight and you reached Kolkata. The fact of the matter is that you had your ticket extended, which means that you did not go to Kolkata as per your earlier schedule. And which further means that you have been in Mumbai since then. Answer yes or no?’
He nodded with great difficulty.
‘In wake of your confirmation, you cannot escape the charge that you were the mystery visitor of Tulsi Chambers on Thursday evening. If you were not, then say so.’
He remained silent.
‘Mr Atlani, your silence would be taken as your consent.’
He still remained silent.
‘This is an established fact—which was verified by a very minor enquiry—that your father-in-law was the financer of your hosiery business. Even after the original financing, you asked him for financial help every now and then. This record of yours is a strong indication that it was indeed you who was the mystery visitor of Thursday, 14 May at 7 p.m. You were the person who was told in a stern manner that the deceased had already helped you a lot. You were the person who had made asking help from the father-in-law his business. You were the person whose borrowing habits had no end, and who was awarded the very apt title of emotional blackmailer. It was your slogan that in business ups and downs could happen with anybody. Only an insolent son-in law—that you are—could address his father-in-law with the insulting title of “old man”.’
‘By this much do I become a murderer,’ the witness burst out suddenly, ‘because I used rude language against my father-in-law?’
‘Lekhji, by asking this question you are conceding that you were the mystery visitor.’
‘Yes, I was. I was. But how does that make me the killer?’
‘What else could the threat you issued in the end mean?— “I will come, old man, I will come at least once”—what does this mean? And what’s the point of saying— “You’ll know”—when he asked you, “What will you come for”? If it is not a threat then what is it? Your father-in-law advised you, “Bring a knife from the kitchen and plunge it in my heart.” What is it if it is not the determination to act on the advice?’
‘Your honour, your honour,’ the public prosecutor shouted, ‘Mr Shah is crossing all limits. The witness is being intimidated, he is being hounded and compelled that he gives answers that suit the fancy of the defence attorney. I strongly object �
��’
‘Before you object,’ the judge said, ‘it would be better if you cast a glance on the face of the witness. I advise you to look and realize that what he is not saying by words, is evident from his face.’
The public prosecutor was shocked to hear this. Gasping, he looked at the witness. Sheer exasperation reflected from his face.
‘I agree to everything the defence counsel just said,’ the witness spoke in a low but balanced voice, ‘I concede to the entire allegation levelled upon me but I didn’t commit the murder. Let him raise hell against me, let him experiment with a whole lot of theatrical effects against me, let him practise his power of oratory especially upon me, he won’t be able to prove that I’m the murderer, come hell or high water. He won’t be able to prove me the murderer because I’m not the murderer. I repeat and repeat and repeat that I’m not the murderer. I am uncivilized, whimsical, greedy, an emotional blackmailer, professional borrower and whatever else occurs to the defence attorney, I’m everything but I’m not a murderer. I have not murdered my father-in-law. No matter how many allegations the defence counsel raises against me, no matter how much circumstantial evidence is presented before the court, no matter how much humiliation I’m led to suffer, no one worth his salt can prove that I’m the murderer because I have not committed the murder. Except this I’ve nothing else to say. Now, my lips are sealed. If Mr Shah can have me crucified for the crime of remaining silent, I’ll gladly accept the punishment. I won’t utter a word henceforth.’
He clenched his jaws so hard that the sound of his teeth clattering against each other was clearly heard in the court.
‘I have no more questions to ask this witness,’ Shah said.
Jeet Singh reached Kamathipura.
Mishri was in her flat.
‘So you have returned finally,’ she said, ‘I was worried about you.’
Jeet Singh smiled. He sat on the sofa before her, and placed the suitcase on the centre table.
‘What happened?’ she enquired curiously.
‘My life was subjected to great danger but finally I won. This is the first time in my life that I won, and my luck proved true to my name. Jeeta the victor won.’
‘Great! Now, tell me what you won?’
‘That’s why I’ve come—to show you my winnings.’
The Colaba Conspiracy Page 36