THE VIKRAM RANA MYSTERIES
A SEASON FOR DYING
A NOVEL BY SHARMISHTHA SHENOY
The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright ©2017 by Sharmishtha Shenoy
sharmishthashenoy.com
All rights reserved, including rights to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
To Subraya Shenoy - thanks for being there for me always.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
LETTER TO THE PRESS
SATYA’S NARRATIVE
MR. ASHOK MANEPALLY
SATYA’S NARRATIVE
A FAMILY OF DOCTORS
DR. PRIYA
A MURDER IN HIMAYATNAGAR
SATYA’S NARRATIVE
ASHA FOUNDATION
DR. AMIT PANCHOLI
SATYA’S NARRATIVE
MALLIKA KOMPALLY
SAURAV PANCHOLI
PADMA MANEPALLY
ANOTHER MEETING WITH PRIYA REDDY
SATYA’S NARRATIVE
DR. PRIYA’S NARRATIVE
DR. KIRAN CHANCHU
DR. CHANCHU’S NARRATIVE
SATYA PRAKASH THE DRUG ADDICT
INTENSE DISCUSSIONS
VIKRAM EXPLAINS
EPILOGUE
TO MY READERS…
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
INFORMATION ON RANDOM KILLERS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PROLOGUE
The man was leaning against a wall near the apartment reading a newspaper. He could see the entry gate and the watchman clearly from this position. It was a busy road with the traffic moving continuously. The shops on both sides of the wide road were beginning to open their doors. A tea seller and Tiffin centre nearby, were doing brisk business. But he was far enough for the Tiffin centre owner not to notice him. He melted into the scene perfectly. When he had to look like a loafer, he could look like one. It is not easy to stand on the pavement and not look conspicuous, but he could do it by the hour. He made a call from his cell. ‘Did you deliver the discounted items?’
The answer was in the affirmative. Grunting his satisfaction, he cut the call.
The old security guard, who had been snoozing in the shade, got up and went inside. From his observations for the past two days, the man knew that he would not come back to the gate for at least half an hour.
He entered the gate, rapidly went up the stairs to the first floor and rang the doorbell. He could hear the bell ringing from outside. There was a delay of a few minutes.
Sighing impatiently, he was about to ring the bell again, when a pretty young lady in her mid-twenties jerked open the door. She was clearly in the middle of washing of some kind as she was wiping her hands with a hand towel.
She said in a slightly irritated voice, ‘Yes – how can I help you?’
‘Hi Padma – remember me?’ the man said ironically. He knew she was alone in the house.
Padma looked at the man in confusion. Then recognition dawned.
‘Oh...it’s you… how did you find my address?’ She did not seem very happy to see him.
‘Never mind about that – won’t you invite me in?’
‘Yes, okay…come in,’ she said, a little nervously.
‘It’s hot! May I have a glass of water?’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said.
Gesturing the man to sit on the sofa of the tiny drawing room, Padma turned to go to get the water. The man swiftly took out a small iron rod from the backpack he had been carrying and slammed it on her head. Padma groaned and then crumpled on the floor.
The man bent down and placed his index and middle fingers on her neck. He felt a faint pulse. He took a cord from his back pack and giggling softly, put it around her neck and then tightened it. Her body convulsed for a moment and then became still. This was the part he enjoyed the most.
After ensuring that she was dead, he brutally yanked off the simple gold mangalsutra that she was wearing and the two gold bangles from her hand. He carefully wiped all fingerprints, removed the cord and the iron rod and put them back into his bag along with the jewellery.
Next he took out a pair of gloves and wearing them went to the bedroom and took out a few more pieces of gold jewellery and the Rs1000 cash that were in the cupboard. He glanced around and then finding nothing more of value, went back to the drawing room and stuffed the loot into his bag.
He took out a digital camera and took some pictures, ensuring that the drawing room was clearly recognisable. Then he went out of the apartment softly closing the door behind him. As the door had a Yale lock it automatically got locked.
Stuffing his gloves in his pocket, he peeped over the stair case landing. The security guard had gone away again. He lazily went down the stairs and exited through the gate. There had been no witnesses and the entire operation had taken less than twenty minutes to complete. He smiled to himself – a self-satisfied gloating smile. He mentally struck one name off his list.
1
LETTER TO THE PRESS
The Telangana Times editor Mr. Kinshuk Jain had just walked in to his office. It was 10:30 in the morning. His personal assistant Suresh hurried in.
‘Anything urgent?’ the Commissioner asked.
‘No, but there is a mail which I think you should look into.’
‘Can’t see it. Which email address did you send to?’
‘I have sent it to [email protected].’
‘Did you send just now?’
‘Yes – the subject of the mail is “A Season for Dying”.’
‘Hmm...sounds interesting…Yes – I received just now.’
Kinshuk clicked open the mail.
This is Prakash, I am writing to you as I have read your editorials and think that you are one of those rare species – an honest journalist.
I am the murderer of Padma Manepally. I am attaching photos of her dead body taken in her apartment today to prove that I am indeed the killer. The Hyderabad police are too stupid to catch me. Old ladies make nice soft targets. I think I will wipe out an old lady next. It will happen on 15th April. I’m not joking. Just go to Anand Apartments, 1st Floor, Ghansi Bazaar, Hyderabad, Telangana 500002, if you want to confirm the murder.
Catch me if you can.
Mr. Jain frowned on seeing the email, ‘What the hell is this? I see there are many attachments.’
‘The person has attached a series of photos of a young woman lying dead in what looks like a drawing room. They were extremely gory.’
The editor clicked open a photo and quickly closed it with a grimace.
‘I see that it has been sent from an address called [email protected]. Hmm...looks like a crank mail. Also, the date is 1st April. Obviously it is an April Fool’s prank,’ Kinshuk Jain said with a glance at the calendar kept on his desk.
‘Call up the Charminar Police Station OC and alert him so that he can check this out. Also send Sankalp along with our cameraman to Charminar. If it has really happened, then we will be the first one to report the news. Okay, so what are the other news about?’ They then moved on to routine discussions. Sankalp was a young promising reporter working in Mr. Jain’s team.
Commissioner Sanjay Kumar was thinking of taking his morning coffee break, when he received a call from Kinshuk. They knew each other quite well as Kinshuk had covered qui
te a few conferences called by the Commissioner. ‘Hallo Sanjay, this is Kinshuk speaking. How are you?’
Sanjay Kumar, who was a publicity hungry person, maintained a warm relationship with all press reporters. He now responded warmly, ‘Arre Sanjay. I am good. Tell me how can I help you?’
‘Sir, I have received a mail from someone called Prakash, informing me that a murder has been committed in Charminar. I am forwarding the email to you. I have already informed the Charminar police station OC and I thought that I must call and inform you as well.’
‘What happened?’ the Commissioner frowned to himself.
‘Padma Manepally, a housewife has been strangled to death. The murderer has sent a lot of pictures along with the mail. He says that he will target old ladies next.’
‘Oh God! I really hope that this is a hoax. Anyway, thanks for the tip. I will talk to the Charminar OC Inspector Kannan.’
‘I have already tipped off the OC. He said that he will go to the address given in the mail and check.’
After finishing his call with Kinshuk, the Commissioner felt that this case would need to be handled by a senior police officer. His thoughts immediately jumped to ACP Gopi Reddy. The previous year, Reddy had solved two very high profile cases. One involved the murder of the wife of the noted industrialist Gaurav Lohia while the other involved the murder of a high profile property developer Krishna Mohan Dhavala. He was a very honest and sincere police officer. He was soft-spoken and a good listener with a very dry sense of humour. ACP Gopi could also empathise with the victim’s kith and kin and this helped him during his investigations as they felt very comfortable in his presence and opened up to him. His active role in solving these two cases got him promoted to the role of Assistant Commissioner of Police. The Commissioner knew that in this unusual case, because of his qualities, Reddy would be the best man to tackle the job.
Reddy was tall, athletic and a handsome police officer. He had an imposing presence and criminals knew that he was a hard man to cross. He had gone for a jog in the necklace road area early in the morning, and after running for an hour had been ravenously hungry. He was also a big foodie, and had gone to his favourite Minerva Café for breakfast. According to him they made the best Idli in town. After polishing off three plates of Idli along with fragrant sambar and coconut chutney, he finished his breakfast by drinking two cups of steaming hot filter coffee. He felt well-nourished and satisfied. During these times he missed his good friend and ex-colleague Vikram Rana. Vikram was also a big foodie and they would often have breakfast together. They were still in touch. Vikram had opened his own detective agency and they had worked together in two high profile cases. Their relationship was now kind of symbiotic where Reddy could give official support while Vikram could get information which was simply not possible to obtain in an official capacity.
After coming to office, he felt heavy and lethargic after his huge breakfast. He had just settled down to take a snooze, when the phone rang. ‘Reddy,’ Sanjay Kumar said over the phone. ‘Can you come over and meet me immediately.’
‘I am on my way sir,’ Reddy replied trying to sound less of a zombie than he felt.
Mr. Syamjith Prasad, the Commissioner’s personal assistant was busily typing at his computer when Reddy hurriedly entered the outer office. Along with a myriad other tasks, Mr. Prasad’s job also included fobbing off people if they wanted to meet the Commissioner. Many people wanted to meet his boss daily on petty issues, and it was his thankless duty to keep them away unless the Commissioner wanted to meet them. And as the Commissioner did not want to meet too many people, Mr. Prasad had a tough job. But still he was always cheerful and smiling. Reddy, who could get angry easily, envied Prasad’s cool composure.
Prasad winked at Reddy and shaking his head to warn him that the boss was not in a good mood waved him through to the Commissioner’s office.
When he hovered near the entrance of his cabin, Mr. Sanjay Kumar gave Reddy an irritable look, ‘Come in … Come in. I wanted to show you something.’ The Commissioner moved his laptop sideways to show Reddy the mail forwarded by Kinshuk.
‘I want you to supervise this case personally, as I feel that it could rapidly becoming a high profile case which will need monitoring by a senior police officer. The killer is clearly an attention seeker and will probably kill very soon again. I can already see the negative publicity coming our way and want to stem it. Take the letter, coordinate with the Charminar police, and get moving. I will also personally speak to the Charminar OC Inspector Kannan asking him to cooperate with you. And keep me posted. We need to warn people especially old ladies that they could be at risk.’
Sensing this as a dismissal, Reddy said, ‘Sir, I will coordinate with Kannan immediately,’ and moved out of the Commissioner’s office.
Inspector Kannan was in charge of Padma’s murder case in Charminar. Gopi Reddy arranged to meet Inspector Kannan and the police doctor in the first floor of the apartment complex where the victim used to stay.
The press was camped out in front of the apartment. As there was no other breaking news, the murder was getting wide coverage. They were waiting outside the house. The main gate of the house was barricaded by the police preventing the paparazzi from entering.
Kannan and the medical examiner were already at work when Reddy entered a few minutes later. A policeman had been posted near the front door to prevent anyone other than the police from entering. The victim was lying face down in the tiny drawing room, close to the entrance of the apartment. She had been tall and slim. She was around twenty five and clad in a simple salwar suit. The murder weapon had not been found. The killer had left no finger prints or any other clue in the murder scene. ACP Reddy sighed. He looked at Inspector Kannan and said, ‘What a brutal ending to a young promising life.’
Kannan nodded his agreement, ‘I have a cousin of a similar age. Just seeing this girl like this makes me feel sick. Murdered in her own home. Is anybody safe nowadays?’
‘Hmm...’ ACP Reddy responded, still looking down at the body, ‘Anything missing in the house?’
‘Gold jewellery and some petty cash.’
‘Where is her husband?’
Padma’s husband Ashok was sitting in the bedroom with his face buried in his hands. His eyes were red from recent tears. He slowly looked up when Gopi Reddy walked in with Inspector Kannan. He looked dazed and distressed. The police, after receiving information from the press about Padma’s murder, had informed Mr. Ashok Manepally about his wife’s death and he had rushed back from office immediately. Then in his presence they had broken open the door to find Padma’s dead body.
Gopi Reddy begun, ‘I am extremely sorry to hear about your wife. But we need to ask you questions so that we can find the murderer as soon as possible.’ Ashok nodded to indicate that he understood. He looked like a sensitive soul and a man of very few words.
‘Mr. Manepally, where do you work?’
‘I work in a small printing press in the arts department. I take care of the artwork like brochures, flyers etc.’
‘Which printing press?’
‘Sai Vinayak Printing Press in Lakdi Ka Pul area.’
‘What kind of books do they print?’
‘Mostly educational books like books of alphabets, nursery rhymes etc.’
ACP Reddy nodded. ‘I know that area. There are a lot of printing presses in that area.’ Ashok nodded.
‘So tell us something about your wife.’
‘Padma was a simple girl. We got married around two years back. She really took such good care of me. I loved her so much.’ There were tears in Ashok’s eyes. He quickly brushed them away with the back of his hand. ‘You have to find the murderer. I beg of you. She did not deserve to die like this.’
‘We will do our best.’ ACP Reddy said gently. ‘Was she a housewife?’ he asked again.
Ashok nodded in the affirmative.
‘You don’t have kids?’
Ashok nodded, ‘Yes we had been trying for
a baby. She was very fond of kids and wanted to have at least two children. She was an only child and had been lonely.’
‘Even now I cannot believe that she is dead,’ he said. Again tears welled up in Ashok’s eyes as he realised suddenly that Padma would never become a mother.
Gopi Reddy glanced at Kannan who looked terribly sad as well. It was as if both of them were thinking the same thing - how the murderer could be so cruel as to take a young, innocent life without any remorse.
Mentally shaking himself, he focussed on the task in hand, and asked, ‘Did she have a cell phone?’
‘Yes.’ Kannan responded – ‘The police had confiscated the phone. Here it is.’
It was an expensive phone. On seeing the phone Ashok again broke down. ‘It was my birthday gift to her – for being such a lovely wife to me. I gifted it to her just two months back. She had turned twenty five. She was fond of smart phones. I really could not afford it. But I took a loan to buy this for her.’
‘How come the murderer took cash yet left the phone behind?’
Kannan said, ‘The phone was found above the shelf of the wash area. Padma must have kept the phone there while she was doing the washing. The murderer missed the phone I guess.’
‘Hmm...Send it along to the forensic lab to see if it can give throw up some data regarding the murder.’
‘Can we look around the apartment?’ Reddy asked Ashok now.
‘Feel free, please. Do whatever you need to do to find the monster that killed my Padma. I just wish I had died instead of her. She had a whole lifetime ahead of her.’ Ashok’s eyes again filled up with tears as he looked at the photo of himself with Padma kept by the bedside table. Reddy glanced at the photo. She had a small heart shaped face, with huge eyes and a small sharp nose. Reddy was reminded of actress Deepika Padukone. Padma had been a beautiful woman. Again Reddy sighed regretfully at the loss of the promising young life.
The apartment consisted of a bedroom with an attached bathroom, a tiny sitting room and a kitchen. The Manepally’s were clearly not very well off. But everything was neat and clean and tidy. Padma had been working in the kitchen and a set of plastic jars for storing food items stood on the self as if she was in the process of storing food when the doorbell had rung.
A Season for Dying: A Vikram Rana Mystery (Vikram Rana Series Book 2) Page 1