‘So you offered to marry her?’
Ashok nodded, ‘I told her that I would marry her and she could keep the baby.’
‘What about your families?’
‘She was staying with her widowed mother and her mother also agreed that this was the best possible solution. As for me, I have only an older brother. He would not have minded.’
‘What about your parents?’
‘My father died around 4 years ago and my mother died a long time before.’
‘So no pressure from your family as well?’
‘No, that way it was all smooth sailing.’
‘Hey but wait, in the papers they said that you were a childless couple.’
‘She miscarried. After that, even though we kept trying, she could not conceive. After our marriage, she had taken up a new job as a receptionist in a small hotel close to our house, but she quit as she wanted to focus on having a baby. The doctor had said that if she was more relaxed, then she had a higher chance of conceiving. But till now, we had no luck and now she will never be a mother.’ The corners of Ashok’s eyes glistened with tears. Vikram recalled the first time he had held his daughter Kamala in his arms. He had been overwhelmed with a flood of happy emotions. At that moment he had felt that life is beautiful and holding her was the best moment of his life. Ashok and Padma would never be able to feel such emotions. Vikram could empathise with this man.
‘Where is Mrs. Padma’s mother?’
‘She passed away two months ago. It is good in a way as her daughter’s death would have been a severe shock for her.’
Vikram nodded and said, ‘Yes, you are right of course.’
He continued, ‘I am sure that if this is indeed the case of a random killer, the killings will not stop with one murder. So the police cannot suspect you indefinitely.’
‘But Mr. Rana, as a precaution, I would like you to help me. I am a poor man and cannot pay you too much…’
Vikram said, ‘I will take you up as a client, but I will not take any retainer, as I am not sure as of now how to help you. Let me see what I can do. I cannot promise you anything right now, but I will get in touch with you if I have any information.’
After Mr. Manepally left, Vikram called up his ex-colleague ACP Gopi Reddy. ‘Hey, Reddy sir. How are you?’
Reddy was in a sour mood. There was no progress in the case of Padma’s murder and the Commissioner was putting intense pressure on him to show progress.
He snapped, ‘What do you care? You never call me unless you need something from me.’
‘Reddy sir! I am hurt. How can you say such a thing about me? You know I have been very busy trying to solve a confidential case involving Mr. Singhania’s daughter.’
‘So after you solved the case, Mr. Moneybags Singhania shelled out bags of cash?’ Reddy asked sarcastically.
‘You know that I have to earn a living and I also need to maintain this office…’
Gopi Reddy softened. After all it was he who had advised Vikram to start his own agency and now that it was running so successfully, he felt proud of his friend.
‘So what do you need?’ he asked in a milder tone.
‘Mr. Ashok Manepally came to meet me just now. He wants me to take up his case. I need to discuss Padma’s murder with you. But why don’t we meet over lunch? We can go to Mekong. At this time the restaurant will be less crowded and we can talk over lunch.’
ACP Reddy, who loved Thai and specially Mekong, took the bait.
‘Okay, what time would you like to meet?’
‘What about noon? Suits you? Okay, drop into my office by 11:45. It will be only 15 minutes from my office.’
ACP Reddy entered Vikram’s office at 11:45 am and they immediately started for the restaurant. At 12pm, they were inside Mekong, seated in their regular place, behind the marble pillar, from where they got the full view of the room. After the heat outside, the room felt dim and cool. The waiters knew both of them well and came around immediately with the menu card. They ordered Vietnamese Spring roll as a starter.
After ordering the starter, Vikram began, ‘Mr. Ashok Manepally came to meet me today. It seems the Charminar police are trying to blame him for the murder.’
ACP Reddy sighed and said, ‘Vikram, you know how it is. We suspect everyone till we find the real culprit.’
‘If Ashok is the murderer, why is he talking of murdering another person?’
‘Why to deflect suspicion from himself by creating a fictitious murderous character.’
‘So you feel that he will kill another person just to deflect suspicion from himself?’
Reddy nodded glumly, ‘Yes that is what I fear.’
‘Well it sounds too far-fetched. I personally feel that Ashok cannot be the murderer. Have you read the book ‘Without Conscience’ by Robert Hare?’
By this time the starter arrived. Their conversation paused while the waiter served the spring rolls which looked and smelled delicious. Once he was out of earshot, ACP Reddy shook his head and said, ‘You know I am not much of a reader. Tell me more about the book.’
‘Robert Hare is an expert in Forensic Psychology. I loved every second of this book, not just because it provided me with so much insight into different psychopathic killers that I already knew of, but because it provides statistical data and studies of different crimes that can be done by psychopaths, how their minds tend to work and how difficult it actually is to spot one of them, or even to fully diagnose them. It’s something that doesn’t necessarily correlate with childhood abuse; some people are just bad, down in their bones. According to Hare, people who kill randomly are glib, superficial, and have enormous egos though they can of course be quite charming. They lack empathy and have no remorse for their actions. They are cocky, and self-confident and arrogant. Frankly speaking I did not think that Ashok has any of these characteristics though of course he might be a brilliant actor and is pretending to be a shy soft spoken, vulnerable person.’
‘But how do you differentiate between confidence, cockiness and arrogance?’ Reddy asked curiously.
‘Let me explain with an example:
Confidence: I know I can tie my own shoes. So, I don't make a big deal about it--I just tie my shoes without fanfare whenever they need tying.
Cockiness: I make a point of tying my shoes a lot, especially in front of others. Every chance I get, I make sure to mention how I can tie my own shoes. I append "Shoe Lace Knot Champion" to my signature.
Arrogance: I refuse to associate with anyone who can't tie their own shoes. In fact, the first thing I find out about anyone I meet is whether or not they can tie shoes, because it would just be impossible for me to even speak to anyone who can't. I live in a house shaped like a large shoe and drive a car that resembles a shoe. ‘
‘Ha ha – I really liked your example. So now we have to look for a cocky, self-confident and arrogant person with a tremendous ego?’ Reddy asked.
‘Yes that certainly seems to be indicated.’
By this time the waiter had come back with the main course. They had ordered Pad Thai Noodles and Thai Green Curry. The aroma alone was astonishingly clear, pungent, lemony and exotic, and made their mouth water.
After the waiter had finished serving, Vikram tasted the food and gave a sigh of satisfaction. ‘Really, the noodles and the Thai curry are top notch. It's among the best oriental cuisine I've had in city.’
Reddy also nodded in agreement. ‘You must try their dessert as well. They are real blockbusters.’
For some time they ate in silence. Then Vikram said, ‘Indeed a memorable meal. I must say that one of the delightful things about life is the way we must regularly stop whatever it is we are doing and devote our attention to eating. But let us get back to the murder of Padma Manepally. You had visited the crime scene immediately after the murder. Can you please give me the details?’
By the time Reddy finished describing the murder, the main course was consumed. They both ordered the coconut jaggery ice
cream. After paying the bill, they went back to Vikram’s office.
On the way back to the restaurant’s car park Reddy said, ‘I am glad that Ashok is involving you with this case. I am sure you will bring in a lot of value addition to this investigation. We always did work very well as a team. Do you remember the Sonia Sinha case? How we had worked together to find Krishna Dhavala’s killer?’
‘Yes, though I felt that such a nasty man as Krishna did not deserve to live and his killer did a good service to humanity. But, I agree with you. We do complement each other work wise. Hopefully we will beat this killer at his own game.’
Reddy said grimly, ‘He has challenged the Hyderabad police and projected us as useless. We do not take such things lightly. We will find him and punish him. He will not know what hit him once we catch him.’
They reached the basement parking lot of Vikram’s office where Reddy’s car was parked. Bidding goodbye to Vikram, Reddy drove back to his office
4
SATYA’S NARRATIVE
THURSDAY, 14th APRIL 2016
EVENING
I board the 21:40 MMTS from Lingampally to Begumpet. It is not crowded as it is late in the evening. I am lucky enough to get a window seat.
Just before our train starts, a long distance train roars past noisily. In the seat opposite me sits an attractive woman in a shocking pink shirt , matching lipstick and loose beautiful, silky black hair. I can see the valley between her breasts in that shirt. Her eyes are huge and have a mischievous twinkle. She looks flirtingly at me. But I am not interested. I had never been interested in flirting with other women. I had loved my wife whole-heartedly and feel regretful that my addiction forced her to move away from my life. Seeing my disinterest, she pouts prettily and turns her attention to a boyish looking man closer to her age. A matronly looking woman seating in the opposite seat looks at this little interplay with disapproving eyes. But I do not care as I am dying for my fix.
The train pulls away from Lingampally station. I can see the local panipuri wala doing brisk business. As the train goes through the Hafeezpet, Hi-Tech City stretch, I see the lights shining out of high rise buildings where the IT employees live in their posh, ultra-modern apartments. I remember a few years back this area was more or less covered with bushes. My mother had dreamt of buying land here. The prices had been quite cheap and she used to say that once I start earning we would buy land there. She was a woman with foresight. We could have sold the land today at a high price. But she died before she could buy anything and I spent all her money on drugs.
Drugs… the curse of my life. I had a beautiful wife and a lovely daughter. She would be about two years old now. I would come home and be violent to my wife. Why was it like that? I am quite well behaved with strangers even when on a high. But why did I turn against my family when high on drugs? Next day, on waking up, I’d find my wife bruised and battered. I would have no recollection whatever of my abusive behaviour. But I would beg for her forgiveness. I would vow never to touch drugs and yet repeat the process the next night.
As I said before, I had no control on myself. So my wife finally took control of her life by leaving me. She took our daughter with her. I was too addicted to care. Now I earn enough for my daily fix and once I have that, I do not care about anything else. Sometimes I don’t recognize myself. The person I thought I was has vanished. I no longer have the same feelings; no longer have the same thoughts. I fall into an ocean of black fog where memories do not matter, future does not matter. The only thing that matters is my next fix. Sometimes I feel so angry towards my wife. She should not have left me. I miss our daughter…
Suddenly I notice that the train is approaching Begumpet station. This is the problem nowadays. I have no idea about the passage of time. It is becoming worse day by day. Sometimes, I have difficulty in remembering incidents. The familiar black fog descends upon me like a blanket when I try to think about incidents that occur during my daily existence. The worst part is that I feel like my brain doesn't work. My memory is so bad, I can't concentrate and even normal day to day activities are sometimes difficult to accomplish. I can't even remember what happened the day before. I feel so miserable and hopeless. As the train stops at Begumpet, I get up hurriedly and manage to get down on the platform. I walk rapidly along the platform and then onto the tracks towards Necklace Road where my contact is waiting with my cocaine. My nose is running, I am feeling sick, my shirt sticks to my back because I am sweating profusely.
I meet my contact in the dark shadows of the Necklace Road and almost run with the drug to some darker corner where I snort it up. Within a minute I feel euphoric. I walk back towards him. He gives me a sly smile and asks, ‘Feeling better?’
I nod dumbly. He asks whether I would like to join him for a drink at Amrutha Bar near Dr. Cars in Necklace Road. I had made quite a few successful sales today and was flush with money. I go with him. The place is crowded and some bar girls are dancing to loud Telugu and Hindi item numbers. The lights are dim and people are sitting around small round tables drinking and ogling the girls dancing on the dais in their glittering hot pants and tiny tops. My contact very generously treats me to whiskey which I gulp down greedily. Soon I am so sloshed that I have difficulty in focussing. Then I lose myself again in the fog of drugs and alcohol.
When I wake up next day around 5:30 am, I find myself lying on the over bridge connecting the two platforms of Begumpet railway station. I have no memory of how I came here. I last remember drinking at the Amrutha Bar. After that I have no memory of what I have done. I hurriedly search my pocket to check if my wallet and cell phone is still there. Luckily for me, no one has taken it. I give out a sigh of relief. I feel very weak but drag myself up slowly to a standing position. While dusting myself, I find some blood stains on my shirt. I have no idea from where they came. Had I become violent in my drug induced state and picked a fight with some one?
I hear the 6:11am train coming from Secunderabad onto platform number one. I hurry to catch the train. I run like a mad man towards the train. The tea seller from whom I occasionally buy tea on my sales rounds looks at me strangely: a man in unkempt clothes and hair rushing madly towards the moving train. I collide with another elderly man while trying to board the train and can hear him cursing me, but I do not look back. I manage to board the train before it gathers speed and grab a seat. The train is nearly empty. After getting my breath back, I check my wallet. Most of the money I earned yesterday has gone. Next, I check my mobile. I had called my wife around 11:30 pm last night. But I have no recollection of it or of what I said. I close my eyes and let the darkness grow and spread willing my memory to come back. But my mind stubbornly refuses to obey. Did I abuse her again?
I go back home to Lingampally to wash and change. I am already craving some drugs and must get my fix before I start working for the day.
5
A FAMILY OF DOCTORS
The man in the dark hoodie was waiting in the shadows. It was nearly dawn – the sunlight was subtly shining through the cloud, an indication of the clear day to come. It was peaceful and calm, but he was hardly aware of it. He was seething with a violent inner excitement, anticipating his next move. He saw the elderly, slight woman in her late fifties, clad in a saree and wearing Nike trainers walking briskly towards the steps leading from the Begumpet station parking lot to the Greenland’s flyover. Seeing her, he grinned and moved swiftly yet stealthily towards her. As he was bringing the cosh down on her head she heard him and turned her head around. She let out a stifled scream as he hit her. Groaning, she crumpled and rolled down the steps. A long distance train roaring past the station masked the sound that she made. He hit her repeatedly as she tried to get up giggling softly to himself till she lay inert. Blood started pooling round her head where she lay. He suddenly felt tired and sleepy, yet highly gratified. This was way better than any drugs. He took out the camera and took some photos. He looked around furtively to check if anyone was watching. Luckily the place was qui
te dark and the parking lot was deserted. But there was a lot more work to do – he must hurry or he might be caught.
The dead body of the victim was discovered the same day, i.e., on 15th April, around 6:30 am in the morning by an auto driver who had come to drop a few passengers to the station. The police quickly barricaded the crime scene and informed the Begumpet police station head, Inspector Satish Rao, who in turn called Gopi Reddy. The auto driver, who had found the body, hung around looking nervous.
When Inspector Satish Rao arrived at the crime scene, he found a crowd of people surrounding the dead body. The auto driver was trying to ensure that nobody touched the body. The victim was identified by the local people as Dr. Renuka Reddy who stayed in an apartment in Brahmanwadi, very close to the station. She was a gynaecologist and had her own nursing home in Begumpet. Her daughter-in-law had been informed by some locals and she was already present along with another woman when Inspector Satish Rao arrived at the crime scene. When she introduced herself, Inspector Rao asked her to wait till he finished talking to the auto driver.
Satish Rao now looked around him and enquired, ‘I hope nobody has touched the dead body?’
The auto driver came forward to say, ‘Sir, I had informed the police and I have not allowed anybody to touch the body since I discovered it. My brother-in-law is a constable in the Police force. Also I have seen enough movies. So I know a bit about police procedures,’ he added proudly
The auto driver was an intelligent and reliable looking middle aged man. Satish Rao asked, ‘What is your name?’
A Season for Dying: A Vikram Rana Mystery (Vikram Rana Series Book 2) Page 3