And the murder was solved

Enigmatic revenge on a plate

AND THE MURDER WAS SOLVED

It was pitch black. Even the moon was absent. The road was resting with its arms spread as though it had let go of all the traffic. A single headlight of a drunken bike was stuttering in the middle of the road. The rider was lonely. He was trying his best to balance the automobile. However, the potholes and his conscious seemed to be confronting him frequently.

About five-hundred meters behind, a set of headlights was catching up to him. As the stretch became isolated, the car overtook the hapless bike and blocked the way. Despite trying his best, the bike rider crashed into the car. He flew over it and landed on the other side.

“Abey, kaun hai? Kya dikhai nahi deta?” he asked as he stood up as if he was trying to balance himself on a swinging rope.

The car door opened. The car driver was standing in front of him.

“Remember me, you b*****d?” the car driver asked.

The biker removed his helmet and tried to recognize his attacker.

“You…you were following me?” the biker said with surprised look.

“Good, you recognized. Now, I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that you knew who killed you,” the car driver said as he took out a pistol.

“What…what do you want…no…you won’t kill me.”

Only one shot was fired before the biker collapsed. It ruptured his heart.

 

The biker was lying on the road with his hands covering the bullet’s entry wound. He heard the car engine start. He heard the car driving away- far.

He saw his mother- his father- his brother- his teachers- a Banyan tree- a well- an Ox- cows- his land- girls- his Dadaji- his Dadi- Debu, his friend- his enemies…

The last signal his brain sent was a thought “so, it was true- your whole life actually flashes before your eyes when you die”. And everything went black.

******

 

I was fast asleep when a polite knock sounded on the door.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Janaab, there is a call for you,” the voice of duty constable came from outside.

“Give it to someone else,” I moaned.

“But sir, it’s a murder.”

“Damn,” I cursed as I got up from the bed. I changed into my uniform and went to the Duty Officer’s room.

“Where?” I asked.

“At JNU road, Janaab. A biker has been shot.”

“What…when?” I started the investigation there only.

“A morning walker called from the scene. PCR is there,” the DO said.

“All right, who is going with me?”

“Kailash, sir.”

I went back to my room and took my bag, which contained all the requisites for the crime scene. When I returned to the DO room, Kailash was ready with the motorcycle running. I sat on the pillion and called the Crime Team from my mobile phone.

“Hello,” a familiar voice answered from the other side.

“Inspector  Manoj? This is Inspector Virat speaking,” I said.

“Yes Virat, what happened?” Manoj asked.

“There is a murder call, sir. At JNU road. A biker was shot. I am on my way,” I filled him.

“So am I,” he hung up saying this.

When I reached the crime scene, I found the PCR van was parked near the fallen bike. A male body was lying on its back with his hands on his chest. The head-constable was talking to a man. The man was wearing a jogging-suit. He was about forty years old. He had a mobile in his hand. There were two clear footprints visible at four feet distance from the body. They didn’t match the shoe numbers of either that man or the head-constable.

“Jai Hind Janaab. This is Mr. Rakesh Juneja. He called 1-0-0,” said the head-constable whose name plate proudly read- HC Sita Ram.

I nodded before asking, “You didn’t touch anything, I guess?”

“Only his pulse, sir. I lifted his hand to feel the pulse. It wasn’t there,” he replied.

“That’s OK. Nothing else- I mean…the bike or his pockets…for identification and all.”

“Nothing else, sir. I come here to walk every morning. I have never seen anything like this. It’s…it’s so horrible,” the man was perspiring despite a cold morning.

“Did you see anyone else on the way?”

“No sir, I was alone here. Actually, this stretch is mostly secluded. That’s why…I prefer to walk here. It’s so peaceful…without any disturbance. I mean…it was earlier…I am sorry.”

“Mr. Juneja, I need your address and then you are free to go.”

He promptly took out a visiting card from his wallet. Rakesh Juneja was a proprietor of Juneja Properties. His office was in Masudpur, while he lived in Sector-D, Vasant Kunj.

“Thank you,” I said as he left the scene. It looked that he was walking a too quick for his feet. He didn’t once look back.

A van stopped behind our motorcycle. Inspector Manoj Sharma with his team alighted. Pictures of the scene were taken. The bike was scrutinized. Many fingerprints were lifted from the bike. Though, major breakthrough turned out to be the two foot-prints. They were carefully lifted with the help of POP. Some blue fibres were entangled in the nails of the dead body. They were carefully taken out and preserved in a plastic bag. An empty 9mm cartridge was also found.

The dead person was identified as Roop Singh. He was a resident of Chiragh Delhi. Chiragh Delhi was a village in south of Delhi. It comprised of a population of about fifty thousand. However, one thing was unique- everyone knew everyone. Roop Singh lived in a big house with his brother, Nafe Singh. Their parents had died and all the property was equally inherited by the two brothers. They had twenty acres of land, which was recently acquired by the Government.

After admitting the dead body in the mortuary for the post mortem, I came out. I found a herd of people waiting outside for me. They seemed a little agitated.

“Who did this? Just tell me and I swear I will kill his whole family,” a Youngman of about twenty-eight yelled at me. I looked at him.

“We don’t know yet. But I can assure you that if you people help, I will catch him very soon.”

“I know who did this. I warned Roop last night too. But, he wouldn’t listen,” said another man of about thirty-five. I turned to him.

“Who are you?”

“Debu, Devi Singh. I am Roop’s friend.”

“What did you say? Who killed him?”

“Jitender, the pehalwan.  Yes, he killed him?” said Debu.

“Why don’t you come to the police station and tell me all about him?” I suggested. “And I will need his brother Nafe Singh too.”

The Youngman who was yelling earlier looked at Debu and nodded.

“All right then, see you at the police station.” I said as I drove off.

*****

I was reading my notes when two persons entered. They sat without asking.

“So Debu, what do you want to say?” I asked closing my file.

“Bhai saab, yesterday night I was with Roop. In fact, both of us were there.”

“Where?”

“There was a marriage at ‘Flower Gardens’ in Vasant Kunj. Sanjay Gaur, a villager was having a party where most of the village was invited.”

“Oh, I see. So why was he alone when he was shot?”

“You see sir, he had had more than he could handle. He wasn’t himself. He insisted on dancing on the dance-floor. I stopped him but he wouldn’t listen. At last, he succeeded and jumped on the dance-floor. He kept on falling on others. It was Ok…until…he grabbed a woman.”

“Who was the woman?” I asked.

“She was the wife of Jitender, the Pehalwan.”

“Hmmm…what happened then?”

“Well, as I thought, Jitender got really furious.”

“And?”

“A fight ensued between the two.”

“Was Roop Singh injured?”

“No…we stepped in and saved him,” said Nafe Singh.

“But Jitender wasn’t pacified. He kept on abusing Roop,” said Debu.

“But why was he alone at the time of his death?” I asked again.

This time Nafe Singh said, “Sir, when Jitender would not cool down, I asked Debu to take Roop away from there.”

“Yes sir, I told Roop to go back home while we keep Jitender and his group at bay,” said Debu.

“So, he went alone?”

“Well, he tried to,” said Debu.

“What do you mean?”

“When he started his bike, somehow Jitender got to know. He rushed towards Roop. He even pulled his bike as he was trying to flee,” said Debu.

“I have to see this Jitender right away. Kailash…” I called.

Kailash came in.

“Kailash, go with two constables and bring Jitender for me, will you?”

“No need for anyone else, Janaab. I can bring him myself.”

I grinned for the first time since morning.

When Kailash had left, I turned my attention towards Nafe Singh.

“So, Nafe, you and Roop lived together?”

“Yes sir. Since my father died two years ago.”

“What do you do?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“Well sir, we got around twenty crores for our land two months back. Since then we quitted our jobs and were just enjoying ourselves.”

“Now, you can enjoy the whole amount yourself,” I said.

“What do you mean? I never wanted my brother to die. I loved him very much,” said Nafe Singh.

“Why didn’t Roop marry? Well, he was over forty, I guess,” I asked.

“Well…actually….I can answer that,” said Debu.

“Yes,” I turned.

“Sir, actually nobody liked Roop. He was a bad boy for everyone. Not for me though. But for others he was mean. I tried to warn him at times but he just refused to listen. He enjoyed doing those misdeeds. And once he got drunk, he was unstoppable.”

“So, no one wanted him as son-in-law.”

“Exactly.”

“My father tried his best. But he couldn’t convince a single person. No one was even willing to be a ‘bichowliya’. He was a gone case,” said Nafe.

“And you?’ I asked Nafe.

“I was planning…errr…before this happened.”

“Other than Jitender, anyone else who could do this?”

“There were many people who held grudges against Roop…but…wait…yes…he could be…” said Debu as an afterthought.

“Who?” I asked anticipating another suspect.

Just as Debu was about to open his mouth, my mobile rang with ‘Manoj’ flashing on the screen.

“Yes sir,” I answered the call.

“Virat, the fingerprints on the accelerator, clutch and the hand brake are of the deceased. However, there are a few chance prints on the back grill of the bike.”

“I know sir.”

“And the footprints are clinching. A clear number ten with distinct sole features. It could be easily matched.”

“That’s good sir, what about the cartridge?”

“A regular 9mm. however, once we get the pistol, we can be sure.”

“Right sir, anything else?”

“Yes Virat, the fibres in the nails were wool. Blue in colour and it can be matched, though not conclusive.”

“Of course sir.”

“OK Virat, I’ll send you the reports by tomorrow.”

“That will be perfect, sir.”

And I disconnected the phone.

I turned back to Debu.

“Yes, who were you talking about?”

“Well sir, actually five years back, there was a murder in the village. One Jai Bhagwan was stabbed in broad daylight in front of many people. For which Roop was arrested. But…” he stopped, looked at Nafe who was staring at him.

“It’s all right, Debu. You can tell me everything. I assure you that whosoever has killed your friend cannot get away. Not from me,” I said.

Debu turned his face towards me. Nafe still stared on.

“Roop Singh was acquitted for lack of evidence. No one testified against him.”

“Did he actually kill Jai Bhagwan?” I asked.

“Well, the court acquitted him, sir,” Debu tried to be diplomatic.

“Did he or did he not, Debu? This is very important. You see, I can’t arrest Roop even if he did kill Jai Bhagwan. But I can find a strong motive, if you tell me,” I tried to convince Debu.

Debu again looked at Nafe. He wanted his permission before moving forward. This time Nafe had turned his face away, indicating his approval.

“Yes sir. But…”

“All right. Now tell me who were you talking about?”

“His brother sir, Kali Charan. He was present in the party.”

“What was he wearing?”

“What?” Both of them were stunned.

“What was he wearing?”

“I don’t remember sir. May be a suit. What do you say, Nafe?”

“Yes, he was wearing that same old checked suit, that b*****d.”

“What were you wearing Nafe?” I asked.

“I wore a new black suit.”

“And you, Debu?”

“I wore a white T-shirt and a brown jacket and…”

“OK OK, what about Jitender?”

“He wore a blue sweater and blue jeans,” said Debu.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes sir.”

“What did you do when Roop had left?”

“We drank for half an hour more and then dozed off there only.”

“You never left the ‘Flower Gardens’?”

“No sir, I thought it would be wise to sleep over. I was feeling tired…”

“And what about Jitender?”

“He left after ten minutes of Roop’s departure.”

“How can you be so sure?” I asked Debu.

“Well, I was keeping an eye on him. Roop went around one o’clock and Jitender at about one ten.”

“That’s very helpful, Debu. Thank you. Well, there is nothing more I can ask now. So…you can go,” I said finally.

Both of them stood up and left. I too followed them on my way to the ACP Office, which was at the same premises. I glanced at their feet while parting ways, one- number 9, and another- number 8, no match there.

When I entered his office, ACP Paramjit Seherawat was sitting alone.

“So, what have you got?”

“Sir, we have two suspects. One is red hot.”

“All right!”

“One Jitender. I have send Kailash to fetch him. He will be here any minute.”

“Don’t be in a hurry. Do you have the evidence?”

“Yes sir. Only if his feet would match.”

“What?”

“We have a clear foot print from the scene.”

“OK…what about the pistol?”

“Once I see his feet, the pistol will appear soon,” I said with determination.

At that moment, my mobile rang and ‘Kailash’ appeared on the screen.

“Janaab, Jitender is here. Where are you?”

“I am here too,” I disconnected and rushed towards my office.

The first things I saw of Jitender’s anatomy were his feet.

“Bingo,” I said to myself.

“Ha bhai Pehaelwan. Bada gussa aata hai tujhe?” I asked him in the language he would understand.

“What is the matter?” he sounded innocent.

It was then that I gave him a tight slap. The blow was too hot even for the wrestler. He crashed into the door before falling down.

“Kya baat hai? Why are you beating me?” he yelled angrily.

“I will tell you, you b*****d,” I said as I kicked his stomach hard.

“What do you want? I didn’t do it.” He cried in pain.

“Where’s the pistol?” I said kicking his legs.

“What pistol? I don’t know.”

“Stand up you fat s**t. I’ll tell you what pistol.”

I pulled his collars and made him stand.

I punched his chin and kicked his shins. He moaned. Kailash too joined in with a flurry of massive slaps.

“I don’t know anything, Janaab. Please stop,” he pleaded with folded hands. “I went straight to my home after the party. You can ask my wife,” he added.

After giving him a thorough bashing, I told Kailash to watch him. I wanted that pistol very badly. Without the murder weapon and the shoes, the case was far from being solved.

I started my Bullet and went to the crime scene. I moved slowly from there to Chiragh Delhi. I kept on watching the surroundings for the place where the murderer could have hid the pistol. As I crossed one kilometre from the spot, a board caught my eyes. It read- SUNDER LAKE.

“Bingo,” I said to myself as I took my mobile out from my pocket and contacted the ACP.

“Sir, this is Virat. I think I have found the place where the pistol might be.”

“Where?”

“In Sunder Lake. Just arrange for some police divers. I am sure it is in the lake.”

“I’ll be there with them.”

“I am going to Chiragh Delhi for the shoes, sir. I guess he wouldn’t be smart enough to know about the foot prints.”

“OK…and yes…the PM report is here. The time of death is between 1:30 and 3:30am. The bullet is sent to the FSL for ballistics.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said before disconnecting.

 

When I reached Chiragh Delhi, I thought that I should first interview Kali Charan. So, I went to his house. Somehow, I had the feeling that he was innocent. I knocked at the door. He opened it. He had a cup of tea in his hand.

“Yes?” he asked seeing me.

“I want to question you for the murder of Roop Singh.”

“Why? I didn’t do it.”

“I am not saying that you did. If we could just sit and talk.”

He obliged and offered me a chair. He even asked for the tea, which I declined.

“When did you leave yesterday?”

“About one o’clock.”

“Anyone accompanied you when you left?”

“Yes, my family.”

“Oh…what is your foot number?”

“What?” he looked surprised.

“Your shoe number?”

“Eight.”

“Did you have any issues with Roop Singh?”

“You want to know whether I killed him. No. Though, I wanted to. Every night when I go to sleep, I see his smiling face. The face of a monster. It is so painful…you can’t imagine how badly I wanted to kill him. I might have killed him eventually. But, I guess someone else was more eager. Moreover, I would not have killed him like this…,” he said in cold blood.

I was convinced. He didn’t do it. Now, only Jitender was left with no alibi. He must be the one, I thought. My task was cut out. If I wanted to solve this case, I needed the shoes to match the footprints. That would be admissible in any court. I went straight to Jitender's house. I entered the house without any knock.

“Who are you? What do you want? Where’s my husband?” his wife fired a series of questions before I said, “Shut up.” It was enough for her. She sealed her lips and sat on the sofa.

I looked around. I searched for the shoes in every nook and corner. Perhaps, I judged him wrongly. He was smart enough to hide the shoes.

As I went to the roof, I looked around. There were three water tanks. But, one looked deserted as if it was staring me, urging me to check it first. I responded. I lifted the lid and ‘Bingo’.

A pair of brown shoes with mud from the crime scene was resting shamelessly at the bottom.

****

The charge sheet was filed well within a month of Jitender’s arrest.  The list of witnesses was carefully compiled- it had only those who wanted Jitender to get the maximum punishment. The evidence was clinching. The Bullet was from the ‘recovered pistol’, the ‘recovered shoes’ matched exactly with the foot prints lifted from the crime scene. No discrepancies were found in the police theory. There was a fight between the victim and the murderer at the party. The murderer followed the victim in his car. There was a scuffle at the crime scene before Jitender shot Roop Singh in the chest from about three feet. The confession of Jitender would stand its ground due to the recovery made on its basis. I was rewarded for the excellent investigation.

As I tried to sleep that night, I saw a girl…of about fifteen years…weeping…her face horrified…her body battered…I still remember…that evening when my didi returned home…she wouldn’t tell what was wrong…she just kept repeating two names…Roop and Jitender…Roop and Jitender…I was too young to understand and too helpless to help…but I understood…nobody wanted to know…but I knew…

Then again…I saw Roop Singh and Jitender…this time in that marriage party. They were the same. I wasn’t. All the hatred rushed back. I needed revenge.

I saw Roop Singh again….staring at his death in disbelief. This time he was helpless and I was smiling. It was so satisfying. Tables had turned.

I saw…Jitender…he too knew what was happening…he too was helpless…it was very fulfilling.

All it needed were my spare pistol, my shoes and most importantly, a little banter at the party.

Everything fell into its place…and the murder was solved.