Brahmashree Narayana Bhatt walked up to the site which had been chosen for the Devaprasnam, to the right of the mandapam, just above Vault B. He sat down on the ground, and started giving instructions to get things moving. The Devaprasnam was supposed to begin at 8.28 a.m. There was no way they could miss that deadline.
He set up the agni kund in front of him, muttering some shlokas all the while. He dipped his hand into his bag and pulled out some of the things he needed for the puja and arranged them on the floor next to him. Someone brought him a cup of coffee, which he happily accepted.
Coffee done, he looked around. Something was missing.
‘Kindi evite!’ he yelled at no one in particular. Kindi—the snake-shaped vessel, containing water—was not to be seen. He needed that. ‘Kindi!’ he called again.
Narayana Bhatt’s anger was legendary, and just a stern look was enough to send people scurrying. Within moments someone noticed that the kindi was in a bag along with the other puja samagri. It was immediately brought out and handed over to him.
‘What is this?’ he thundered. ‘Where is the water? What were you people doing all night that you couldn’t even get this basic thing right.’
‘I will fetch the water,’ said one of the volunteers. He picked up the kindi and ran out of the temple, towards the Padma Teertha Kulam. The water had to come from the holy tank.
‘Apashakunam! Apashakunam!’ Narayana Bhatt muttered under his breath as he went about his work. Lines of worry appeared on his forehead. He had been doing this long enough to know that these were merely a sign of things to come.
Ranjit Dubey looked around anxiously. Any longer and he would soil his pants. The only toilet that he was aware of was on the lower level and slightly far. There had to be one close by. He rushed back to the king’s room and walked in. He was alone there. He looked around. Beyond the wooden swing, there was a small door. That had to be a bathroom. There was a small sign above of it that said ‘Private’.
He opened the door and walked in.
Jayaraj Panicker cursed himself as he ran towards the Padma Teertha Kulam. It was his responsibility to keep the samagri needed for the Devaprasnam ready. How had he not noticed that the filled-up kindi was missing? Narayana Bhatt had just had coffee and there wasn’t any holy water that he could use to cleanse his hand before touching anything else.
He leapt over the small iron gate that secured the tank compound and hurried down the steps to the edge of the water. He dipped the kindi into the water. As he was lifting the vessel, filled to the brim with water, something scraped against it. He looked up to see what it was. His voice deserted him; he stood shocked. The kindi dropped from his hand and sank to the bottom of the pond with a gurgling noise.
‘Padmanabha! Padmanabha! Padmanabha!’ he chanted loudly as he ran up the steps to the pond and sprinted towards the temple gates. Whether he was upset at having touched a dead body early in the morning or if it was the shock of having found a body floating in the temple pond was difficult to say.
Half an hour later the bloated body was fished out of the holy tank.
Part 2
47
THIRUVANANTHAPURAM
Ranjit Dubey was sweating when he emerged from the room. What he had seen was shocking, completely unexpected. But perhaps that had also been the will of Lord Padmanabha. As he walked towards the vault to join the rest of his team, he saw people rushing out of the temple. He panicked. Suspecting a terrorist attack, he joined the horde heading for the temple exit.
Outside, a crowd had gathered next to the Padma Teertha Kulam. Ranjit looked around and finally spotted Vikram Rai standing near the iron gate with Nirav Choksi. Not far away from them was Subhash. Kamal Nadkarni and R. Dalawa were talking to a few men in uniform. Armed commandos of the CRPF who were responsible for temple security had surrounded the place. A few of the temple staff were huddled up to the left, talking in hushed voices. Panting heavily, he walked over to where Vikram Rai and Nirav were standing. That’s when he saw it.
Lying on the step closest to the water was a lifeless body. It seemed as if it had just been fished out of water. Rajan stood next to it, a grim expression on his face. Ranjit watched as he knelt beside the body and covered the face with a white sheet.
‘Oh my god!’ he exclaimed as he reached Vikram’s side. ‘Isn’t that . . .? Isn’t it . . .?’ Words failed him.
Vikram Rai put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Yes. That’s Kannan.’
Kannan’s body was put in an ambulance and taken to the Thiruvananthapuram Medical College Hospital for an autopsy. At Vikram Rai’s insistence, Ranjit Dubey and Subhash accompanied the body, while Rajan went to the young man’s house to inform his wife and bring her to the hospital. However, by the time he reached, someone had already broken the news to her. She was in an inconsolable state. Rajan waited till she calmed down a bit and then escorted her to the hospital in an autorickshaw. Kannan’s relatives and other villagers followed.
At the hospital, the situation threatened to get out of hand. A few relatives started raising slogans against the administration and even the king. Two teams of Kerala Police had to be deployed to control the situation.
Kabir Khan was in the police headquarters when he heard of the events at the temple. His meeting with DGP Krishnan was cut short because the latter had just received news of the body in the temple pond and had to rush there to take stock.
‘Come with me,’ the DGP had said. ‘We can chat on the way.’
In the car, despite his best efforts, Kabir found it extremely difficult to get Krishnan to focus on the issue topmost on Kabir’s mind—the disappearance of Shreyasi Sinha.
‘I appreciate your predicament, Mr Khan, but at the same time, you need to understand that the state police are overwhelmed by this sudden world interest in the Padmanabha Swamy Temple and its issues. If the discovery of the enormous wealth in its vaults had merely disturbed the peace of the temple and its neighbouring areas, today that peace has been blown to smithereens. A dead body! That too in the Padma Teertha Kulam. It defies all logic.’ He paused and took a deep breath. ‘Anyone in Kerala Police who promises to help with your case is not doing his duty. Not a single constable will have time to spare. More so now.’
‘Are you saying that you will not be able to help the CBI in this investigation at all?’
‘Well, is the CBI investigating this formally?’ Krishnan asked.
Kabir nodded. ‘The case of the stolen Lord of the Cosmic Dance statue found in Australia is being investigated by the CBI, and this is part of that investigation. We get to Shreyasi Sinha, we get to the perpetrators of the crime. And we will be able to bring the stolen statue back to India.’
‘I must say, Mr Khan, your obsession with this Ms Sinha seems to have clouded your judgement. So much so that you are not following the progress in your own case.’
‘Care to explain that allegation?’ a furious Kabir asked.
‘Maybe your office hasn’t updated you. As of this morning, the Government of Australia has agreed to return the statue. As far as I am concerned,’ he said with a smile that made Kabir’s blood boil, ‘case closed.’
The constant squabbling between the central agency and the local police had created a problem in investigating any matter that fell under the agencies’ joint jurisdiction.
Kabir Khan’s phone rang. ‘Yes, sir?’ he said into the phone.
‘You’ve been told about the Dancing Nataraja statue?’ Director Inamdar asked.
‘Yes, sir. Just now.’
‘Great. Good work on that. Now for the reason I called.’ Inamdar was a man of few words. To the point. ‘The PMO called. They are following the Anantha Padmanabha Swamy Temple issue closely. They’ve asked the CBI to investigate a murder on the temple premises. The Centre does not trust the local government to conduct a fair investigation. It is heavily biased in favour of the local king—at least such is the perception. I want you to take the lead on this investigation, at least till we can put
another team together.’
‘Another team?’
‘Oh come on, Khan! As if you don’t know. How will you investigate a case inside a temple? Only Hindus are allowed inside. Muslims are not.’
‘That has to change sometime, sir. We don’t live in the Stone Age, do we?’
‘We were better off then. The Stone Age didn’t have these barriers; the Modern Age does. This is not the time to force change. The government will make the announcement on the CBI taking over the case later in the day. Till then, keep a low profile. Besides, your position as head of heritage and environment crimes is only a short-term assignment, until we can find another assignment worthy of your talents.’
‘Sure. Thank you, sir.’ Kabir hung up. Muslims not being allowed inside temples was still bothering him, but it was a larger social issue which he could not do anything about immediately. He let that pass.
‘I take it you’re heading the investigation for the CBI?’
‘You knew?’ Kabir was stunned.
‘No, I didn’t. But I’d have to be a fool not to expect it. I am going to retire in less than two months. I am seen as a Dharmaraja loyalist. The temple issue is in the Supreme Court now. The community is disturbed. And now there’s been a murder. Of course the CBI will be asked to step in. It will hurt me to hand over this case to the CBI or any other agency. If you are with me, you will have all the details. I won’t need to debrief the CBI team.’
Kabir Khan smiled. For the second time in the past few weeks he had experienced the complexities in the relationship between the state police and the CBI, particularly in states not ruled by the government at the Centre.
‘Besides, once the CBI takes over, the state police will be free to hunt for your girlfriend.’
‘Girlfriend?’
‘Ms Sinha.’ The two of them laughed heartily.
They had arrived at the hospital.
48
‘You’re kidding!’ Subhash looked at Ranjit Dubey, eyes wide with disbelief.
‘I’m telling you it was there! Right there as I walked in. I thought it was the way to a toilet. It was actually a small passage. The washroom was at the other end. And then I saw it. Right there. Behind the door—’
‘Have you told Vikram?’ Subhash interrupted worriedly.
‘No. Not yet. When I came out of the room, there was complete chaos. And then Kannan’s death . . . I couldn’t tell him at the time.’
‘I think we should tell Vikram as soon as possible.’ He looked at his watch. It was approaching noon.
They stopped talking when they heard footsteps coming from the other end of the corridor. Two men, one of them in uniform, walked towards them.
‘Mr Dubey, Mr Parikh.’ The DGP nodded in acknowledgement and shook hands with both of them. ‘This is Mr Kabir Khan. CBI.’
Ranjit felt the tingle again. Whenever he was stressed, it became difficult for him to control his bladder. But he couldn’t leave until the conversation ended.
Subhash glanced at Kabir curiously. ‘CBI? Is the CBI investi—’
‘I’m sorry, I can’t say anything about the investigation right now,’ the DGP interrupted. He gestured to Khan, and the two of them walked to the morgue. Kannan’s wife and a few other relatives were huddled around Rajan outside the room. She looked as if she would collapse any moment.
When Rajan saw the DGP, he broke away from the crowd and strode towards them purposefully. The coroner too came out at the same time.
‘Preliminary cause of death?’ the DGP asked.
‘Death due to drowning—’
Rajan interrupted instantly. ‘He was a good swimmer. It couldn’t have been that!’
The coroner ignored him. ‘Murder,’ he added wearily.
The DGP didn’t show any emotion. ‘It usually is.’
‘We have found alcohol in his system. Extremely high levels. There was even unabsorbed alcohol in his stoma—’
‘How is that possible?’ a shocked Rajan asked. ‘Kannan never drank!’
Irritated, Khan hit out, ‘It means your precious Kannan drank more than he should have, stumbled up to the tank and fell in! His state of intoxication prevented him from using his Olympic-level swimming skills to save himself.’ He glared at Rajan. ‘Now that we’ve solved that, will you let him finish what he is saying? Without interrupting?’
Rajan was shaking his head violently, albeit silently.
Taking advantage of Rajan’s unexpected silence, the coroner continued, ‘There are traces of carbon in his right nostril as if someone thrust a tube into his nose and forced him to inhale the exhaust fumes of a running vehicle. The abrasions on his wrist and neck suggest that he was forcibly held down. It is likely that carbon monoxide would have knocked him out. And to make it appear like he was drunk, alcohol was forced down his throat. And then he would have been pushed over the tank wall and left to die.’
‘But why would anyone want to kill him?’ Rajan seemed visibly shaken by the findings of the autopsy.
‘Maybe for this?’ The DGP extended his mobile phone towards Rajan. ‘This was found in his auto. It’s been sent to Forensics.’
‘How did Kannan get it?’
‘That’s something we will try and figure out once the forensic examination is over.’ When the DGP said this, Rajan just nodded. ‘And this is not in the public domain yet.’
‘Of course.’ Rajan said hastily.
On his way out, Kabir Khan asked the DGP, ‘You did not tell him the entire story?’
The DGP smiled. ‘He will have figured it out if he is in on it.’
Kannan’s cremation that evening was a volatile affair. The police were on high alert. Anything could go wrong. Religion was an emotional subject and they did not want to take chances.
The results of the post-mortem were not made public. Nor was the recovery of a gold bar from the victim’s autorickshaw. The announcement of the CBI taking over the case had not been made either. Ranjit Dubey didn’t mention anything to Vikram Rai or the others. A terrified Subhash even talked him out of sharing the details with anyone else. They were scared. Scared that there might be consequences.
The Devaprasnam continued on schedule. Narayana Bhatt had insisted on it. The audit of the temple’s riches continued as well. Only Rajan was not involved that day as he was tied up with Kannan’s cremation.
Kabir Khan was in the police headquarters that evening, fiddling with the paperweight on the table, when he got a call.
‘Saar wants to see you.’ It was the DGP’s assistant.
‘I’ll be right there!’
When he walked into the DGP’s office, there was another person present. The DGP introduced him as K. Menon, the head of forensics.
‘Menon says that the gold dates back four hundred years. Possibly more.’
Kabir turned towards Menon. ‘So it is from the temple vaults?’
‘Most likely,’ confirmed Menon. ‘But it is not the entire piece,’ he added.
‘How can you say that?’ Kabir asked him
Menon pulled out a few images from the file that he was carrying and spread them out on the table. They were close-ups of the gold bar. As Kabir and the DGP peered at them, he explained, ‘If you observe carefully, while the sides of the gold bar are dull, this face is glittering like new. It is clear that a larger gold bar has been cut into two, or maybe more, pieces. While this is clear from a visual inspection, our forensic examination confirms the same. The side which is shinier contains particles and fragments of the iron blade that was used to cut this. The clean edge suggests that the blade used is new. Old blades will not cut as smoothly as this one has.’
‘So.’ The DGP looked at Kabir. ‘What should our approach be, Mr CBI?’
‘We should bring him in.’
‘Do we have enough evidence against him?’
‘What we have is enough to question him. Isn’t it?’ Kabir Khan asked.
The DGP merely shrugged.
49
Ranjit Dubey wa
s uncharacteristically quiet at dinner that night. Subhash, Dalawa and he were eating in the hotel restaurant together. Vikram Rai had stepped out to meet a friend, and the others had retired to their rooms.
Kabir Khan walked into the restaurant. Seeing the three of them, he strolled up to their table and pulled out a chair.
‘How have you been, gentlemen?’ He had met them all at the hospital.
‘As good as can be under the circumstances,’ Subhash answered.
‘I can understand.’
‘Who could have killed him?’ Subhash asked.
‘We’re not sure yet. But we hope to make some progress tonight. We have rounded up some suspects. Let’s see.’
‘Why would someone kill him?’
‘Well, Mr Dubey.’ Khan sighed. ‘Someone once said that there are six reasons why a person commits a crime: love, faith, greed, boredom, fear or revenge. In this case, the motive seems to have been greed. But nothing can be ruled out.’
‘Very true.’ Subhash nodded sagely.
‘Anyway, you guys have a good time. I have to run. Your friend must be waiting.’ He was gone before the three men at the table could ask him what he meant by that last remark.
Shortly afterwards, Dalawa got up and went to his room. As soon as he left, Ranjit turned to Subhash and asked in a whisper: ‘What have we got ourselves into?’
Subhash burst out laughing. ‘Don’t be such a pussy, Ranjit! Life is full of excitement. Embrace it! Trust me, it will be fun.’
‘Someone was murdered this morning.’ The fear was evident in Ranjit’s voice. ‘And we know that something is not quite right here.’
‘Where money is involved, there will be intimidation. There will be fear.’
‘I don’t want to die.’ Ranjit squeezed his thighs together. He was scared. The TV in the restaurant was plying images of Kannan’s murder. ‘Especially at this man’s hands,’ he added, pointing to the TV. Subhash turned. Dharmaraja Varma was on the news, giving a statement.
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