by Ruby Gupta
‘You know, I was always jealous of Jyothika, and after Chandra Prakash was born, I often raged against God for being unfair to me. Then when Chandra was so like Rajvir, it…it became unbearable. More so when Rajvir began focusing on Chandra’s career at the cost of Amar’s career. But…but now – I feel only sadness and anguish. No one deserves to die – to be killed like this. I can well understand what Jyothika must be going through. For the first time in my life, I feel sorry for her. I wish I could do something for her,’ she spoke earnestly.
Professor Shantanu’s heart melted at the raw emotion and her magnanimity. This here was a great – no, a magnificent woman. ‘Who do you think must have done it?’ he asked gingerly.
‘I don’t know. It is so senseless. Why would anyone do such a thing?’ she looked baffled.
‘Just think,’ Shantanu insisted.
‘No – I really can’t think of anyone. But then I really don’t know much about Chandra Prakash’s world. So how would I know?’ she said.
Shantanu wondered what she would make of Jyothika’s allegation that it was either Pallavi or Amar who were the likely killers. ‘Do you think it is the same person who killed all three?’ he asked instead.
‘I really can’t say. Though it must be, because all three are inter-related. But why kill them? It just doesn’t make any sense,’ she paused. ‘What do you think? What is your conclusion?’ she asked.
‘I’m also at a loss. I really don’t know what to think at this point of time,’ Shantanu spoke ruefully.
Pallavi looked at him in surprise. She was aware of the professor’s past success as a sleuth and his penchant for solving murders. How was it possible for him to be clueless?
It was the morning of 30th July. The country awoke to the shocking news of the arrest of the late Rajvir Kapoor’s son, Amar, on charges of the triple murders of his father, Natalie and Chandra Prakash.
Somehow, the police had managed to keep the news of the arrest that occurred the previous evening under wraps.
Though not for long.
By early in the morning, television journalist, Vimal, through one of his numerous sources, got hold of the sensational news. Immediately, his channel began bombarding viewers with breaking news of the arrest. The news was interspersed with clips of Amar’s films, his struggle as an actor, his flops, and the odious comparisons with his father.
The unsavoury aspects of his private life were also hinted at. There were detailed accounts of the dubious circumstances leading to his marriage with the former Miss Universe, Remanika. It was an open secret that the two shared nothing with each other, not even their bed. Snippets of small-time stars and models making snide remarks about Amar’s sexual predilections were also thrown in for good measure.
Predictably, the arrest and the details of the murder became the topic of conversation everywhere – be it among the political class, the corporate circles, or the common man.
There was no getting away from it.
Most of the channels stationed crews outside of Xanadu, eager to record everything that happened at the house. Sound bytes were requested from everyone and anyone who had any remote connection with ‘The Family’, as it was now being termed.
This was the chance for people to grab their five minutes of fame; and they said whatever they could – real or imagined, about the family. Many also claimed that they had always known that Amar was the culprit.
Some channels rapidly organized talk shows that revolved around fratricide.
Some even had eminent psychologists attempting to piece together the probable psyche of a son who would do this sort of a thing.
Amar’s schoolteachers and succession of nannies were dug out from oblivion, and made to speak on his growing-up years.
It seemed that even before the trial, the media through its various programmes had already drawn definite conclusions about the motive and the mental state that led Amar to commit the horrific murders.
There was no longer any doubt left in the public’s mind that Amar was the culprit.
The Nation was happy that the police had proved worthy of the trust put in them and solved the case to everyone’s satisfaction.
Inspector Bhogle was commended by everyone for his superb investigation and for reaching to the satisfactory conclusion of the case.
‘How did Bhogle think of Amar?’ Professor Dinkar Mishra asked Shantanu.
The next day, the two were sitting in the terrace of the guest wing of Xanadu, having their morning cup of tea and going through the newspapers that were full of news of the arrest.
‘Well we had always listed Amar as one of the main suspects. What clinched the deal was that Bhogle got a tip off,’ Professor Shantanu said.
‘Really? What and who?’
‘Bhogle got an anonymous call to search Amar’s apartment.’
‘Amar’s apartment? You mean Amar’s room here at Xanadu?’ Dinkar was puzzled.
‘No – Amar has an apartment in the city.’
‘Really? Why is that?’ Dinkar was surprised.
‘That was for him to live like he wanted to – with complete freedom,’ Professor Shantanu spoke blandly, not wanting to elaborate upon the rather sordid details he had heard about Amar. He believed that everyone had the right to live the life they wanted, and no one should grudge them that, or judge them either.
‘I see,’ Dinkar did not really see. But he knew that Shantanu would only tell him what he wanted to. ‘Then what happened?’
‘Initially, Bhogle thought it was a crank call. But then, he was no nearer to solving the case, and the pressure to do so was becoming unbearable. So, he decided to follow up the tip because he had nothing to lose.’
‘Then?’
‘Then – amazingly enough, he did find something.’
‘What?’ Dinkar hated Shantanu’s habit of giving information in stages. Why didn’t he immediately and directly come to the point, instead of narrating things in the sequence of their actual occurrence? It was most irritating!
‘To Bhogle’s amazement, he found a knife – a knife that had dried blood encrusted on it,’ Shantanu spoke almost with a flourish.
‘Wow!’ Dinkar’s eyebrows rose.
‘Yes – it seemed to be the kind of knife which could have been used to murder Chandra Prakash.’
‘Where was it?’
‘Surprisingly enough, the knife was carelessly hidden – almost begging to be found. It was simply thrown at the back of a closet, full of discarded clothes.’
‘And?’
‘Bhogle had the knife examined by forensics. As expected, the dried blood was an exact match to Chandra Prakash.’
‘But why would Amar do such a stupid thing? He could have thrown the knife anywhere, destroyed it or anything!’ Dinkar exclaimed.
‘That is exactly what I thought. But then keep in mind Amar’s personality. He is such a kook really. And then add to it the drugs and God knows what all else he is on, most of the time. Also, his warped personality. God knows what was there in his head,’ Shantanu paused. ‘Maybe, maybe he had tossed the knife there after the murder, intending to dispose it later on; but then forgotten about it. Drugs do impair your memory, you know.’
Dinkar nodded. ‘Then?’
‘Bhogle interrogated Amar. To his surprise the boy was pliable and almost waiting to be arrested. He readily agreed that he had done it and that he should be arrested.’
‘That is strange. He did not resist, or protest or anything?’ Dinkar was surprised.
‘No.’
‘And now?’
‘Now it is for the police to build the case, put together all the evidence before the case goes to trial.’
‘But the knife only proves Amar’s guilt about Chandra Prakash. What about the murders of Natalie and Rajvir?’ Dinkar asked.
‘My thoughts exactly!’ Professor Shantanu spoke forcefully.
‘Then?’
‘I don’t know whether it was the result of Bhogle’s browbeating or
coercive interrogative tactics or what, but Amar has confessed to these two murders as well.’
‘Don’t tell me! Why the hell would he do that? Confess, that is. And did he actually do it?’ Dinkar was confounded.
‘Bhogle believes it, because Amar said so.’
‘And what was his motive? Motive for all three murders? Or is he just mad?’
Shantanu remained quiet. A little later, he spoke slowly. ‘Amar says that he always hated his father and so he murdered Rajvir. Then he murdered Natalie because she was carrying Rajvir’s baby which was an insult to the only person he loved in this world, which was his mother. And then he murdered Chandra Prakash because he was at the threshold of the success in the industry which he himself could not get.’
‘This is certainly airtight,’ Dinkar stated.
‘Yes, he did have the motive to murder all three,’ Shantanu inclined his head.
‘But why is there a note of doubt in your tone?’ Dinkar spoke astutely. He could easily read minor inflections in his friend’s voice.
‘I’m just not convinced.’ Shantanu spoke thoughtfully.
‘Why?’
‘I know there is the solid evidence of the knife. And I also agree that he has strong motive for killing all three… And yet there is something, something that does not quite add up,’ Shantanu seemed to be lost in contemplation.
‘What doesn’t add up?’
‘I don’t know exactly. I mean this is my instinctive reaction,’ Shantanu spoke falteringly.
Dinkar kept quiet. He had great respect for Shantanu’s intuition and knew that if Shantanu was unconvinced, then there had to be something in it; notwithstanding that there was nothing concrete to go by, as of now. But then, he had full faith in his friend’s ability to dig up something substantial to corroborate his instincts. He had always managed to do so in the past.
‘And did Bhogle follow up the number from which the call came, giving him this tip off?’ Dinkar suddenly remembered.
‘Yes, he did. He is thorough, I must say,’ Shantanu said.
‘Then?’
‘Then nothing. The call was made from a cell number which no longer exists and which had been taken through some fake id.’
‘So, someone already knew about Amar’s guilt.’
‘Or someone was trying to implicate Amar, and succeeded,’ Shantanu stated.
‘Really? You think so?’
‘It could be. I mean, just look at the way it happened. The call at the opportune moment, then finding of the knife so easily…it’s all too pat,’ Shantanu spoke as though to himself.
‘But what about Amar confessing? Surely, this fact could not have been manipulated by the person who could have been trying to implicate him?’ Dinkar pointed out.
‘Yes – this is exactly the thing that has me stumped.’ His friend looked perplexed.
‘And you must admit that at the moment the odds are stacked heavily against Amar.’
‘Yes, I do…’
‘What do you intend to do now?’
‘I really don’t know.’ Shantanu looked troubled.
‘It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m sure you will come up with something,’ Dinkar soothed.
‘Perhaps,’ Professor Shantanu continued to look distressed.
‘I’m sorry dear, for everything that has happened,’ Dr. Singhvi spoke softly as he looked at Pallavi’s tear-stained face. It was amazing the way she managed to look so adorable even when miserable and sans makeup, he thought.
Pallavi did not respond. She continued to look listlessly at him. Then, after a long silence she said, ‘Please give me stronger sedatives. I’m not able to sleep, or relax, or anything with the ones you have given.’
‘But, I’ve already prescribed very strong ones. More than that would be detrimental to your health.’
‘Please, doctor,’ she held out her perfect fingers and touched his hand.
‘Okay, I’ll give you a slightly stronger dose. But you must promise me not to take more than the number I have told you. And please take them only in the night,’ he requested fervently.
‘Please, doctor. I can’t survive like this. I have to take them during the day also, otherwise I just can’t…just…’ her voice broke.
‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ Dr. Singhvi looked at her helplessly. He wished he could do something to ease her pain.
‘First Rajvir…and now my darling, my dear little boy, the only reason I’m living for, my Amar… Rajvir’s going I could manage. But Amar? Losing Amar is impossible for me to bear!’ her voice was plaintive.
Dr. Singhvi did not know what to say.
‘You see, I want to be drugged all the time. I don’t want to be conscious of what is happening. It is too painful! I want to become unconscious! Actually, I want to be dead! What do I live for now? Why am I still alive?’ her voice held extreme anguish.
This was more than Dr. Singhvi could bear. He reached forward and gathered the pliable woman in his arms, trying to comfort her, trying to bring back the Pallavi he knew. The vibrant, alive woman – who was always so happy, so chirpy, so animated, so amazing, so wonderful… Tears pricked his eyes and he felt a desperate urge to somehow set everything right.
A cough sounded behind him.
Abruptly, Dr. Singhvi jerked back.
It was Rose. She had brought tea.
A week later, things began reverting to normal. The channels went back to their usual programmes revolving around whatever was current, at the moment it was the IPL – Indian Premier League, and the forthcoming Lok Sabha elections.
Just when Rajvir was about to fade from the collective memory of everyone, came another bit of astounding news.
This time too, it was Vimal’s channel that broke the shocking news.
Pallavi Kapoor, the wife of the deceased superstar Rajvir, had confessed to all the murders!
Reports claimed that she confessed to a close friend of the family – Karan Ahuja, Commissioner of Mumbai Police, and willingly submitted to the law of the land.
The police conducted a quick preliminary investigation and found prima facie that there was enough circumstantial evidence to indict her.
Subsequently, Pallavi was taken in custody.
There were reports that perhaps Amar would be released; or perhaps both would remain in jail, till it was clear which of the two had actually committed the crime; or perhaps the two had colluded and committed the crimes together.
It was all a muddle.
This was most unexpected, even by the wildest imagination of the media.
Though soon enough, sundry so-called experts began to claim that definitely it had to be Pallavi, and that the police had made a mistake in arresting Amar.
The experts claimed that they had always known that it was Pallavi; for more often than not, it is always the wife who murders the husband.
The channels were happy because they had eyeball-grabbing news again to ensure high TRPs for them.
They began airing numerous talk shows, discussions, and programmes around Pallavi’s life, her career as an actress and her latest foray into television.
The voyeuristic audience happily devoured it all.
Professor Shantanu pensively looked up at the ceiling of his opulent bedroom at Xanadu. An uncharacteristic sadness gnawed at his insides. This was not the way he had hoped that things would end.
Pallavi’s arrest was unexpected.
He did not want to believe that it had actually happened.
And yet it had.
Inspector Bhogle of course had no choice but to arrest her, when she herself had confessed to her crimes. But could she have really committed such dastardly acts?
Her innocent face magically appeared in his mind’s eye. He sighed deeply. No – there was something wrong.
He swung his legs out of bed.
She could not be the murderer.
He had to do something – anything, to get her out.
He stopped short.
What was
he thinking?
What did he want to do?
Was it based on any kind of logic, or simply on the basis of his feelings for her?
And what did he feel for her?
He honestly did not know.
Was it the ‘L’ word?
Even to himself, the professor could not admit to feeling such emotions for anyone. But at the same time, he could not deny the intensity of his emotions. He ran his hand through his tousled hair. ‘Be objective, old boy,’ he murmured to himself.
There was no point being swept away by his feelings for Pallavi. He had to go by the facts, the evidence and the motive. That was the only way he could, rather should, proceed.
He could not very well go to Bhogle and ask for Pallavi’s arrest to be reconsidered on a mere feeling of disquiet he had. And yet there was some very real feeling of unease, of disquiet, a subsurface tension he had been experiencing since the time of her arrest.
It was not wholly due to his delicate feelings for Pallavi; rather, it was because he knew in his bones that the real murderer was still out. He could not prove it, but he was sure of it.
Something, somewhere did not add up; he knew it intuitively but he could not pinpoint it exactly.
Not now anyway.
Professor Shantanu decided to go over everything from the beginning, just the way he did in his research when things did not reach the logical conclusion that was expected. He was sure he would find something amiss.
Eager to get started, he pulled out his notepad in which he had jotted his notes on the case.
Soon he was deep into the sequence of events.
He wrote down fresh points as they occurred to him.
A while later, Professor Dinkar peeped in and asked him for lunch.
Absent-mindedly Shantanu waved him away.
His friend knew better than to disturb him when he was deep in thought. He left quietly, well aware that food was probably the last thing on Shantanu’s mind.
The most vexing aspect was who could have the motive for doing away with all the three victims. As of now, the only plausible conclusion was that Pallavi did have the strongest motive.