A Killer Among Us

by Ushasi Sen Basu

  Mrs Bhattacharjee finally broke the silence. ‘He’s Mr Banik, Ira, he’s our secretary! Of the building.’

  ‘Ah okay.’ Ira attempted a polite smile, just in case it would help the room get back on the right foot. She needn’t have bothered.

  ‘Ira, I am hearing some worrying things,’ Mrs Bhattacharjee continued. ‘As you know, I am most satisfied with you as a tenant; such good, decent behaviour, general tidiness and punctuality with the rent….’

  ‘Missss Dutta,’ thundered the man introduced as Mr Banik, throwing an impatient look at the deflated Mrs Bhattacharjee. ‘We hear that the man who was killed on our premises was your friend. That he had come to meet YOU. Who is this man? We,’ gesturing with a proprietary arm at the silent occupants of the room, ‘demand to know. We want to give you a fair hearing before taking it all to the police. The inspectors are due to return any moment now, and there are a couple of constables stationed near Wing 1, as well. Tell us all the truth and we will try to help you. If not, we will have no option but leave the police to do their jobs.’

  Ira was conscious of the insides of her mouth drying. Was it fear or had her mouth been hanging open?

  ‘My…my friend?’ She prided herself on being quick-witted. She’d landed on her feet despite being a small-town girl in a reasonably big, slightly bad city. But what in fuck’s name was this. ‘You must be mistaken. I’d never seen him before in my life.’

  A babel of voices broke out at this.

  ‘This is why one must never allow….’

  ‘You never know….’

  ‘Arre, I am as liberal as anybody….’

  ‘How long do you think this meeting will go on, I have places to be….’

  ‘They come posing as office employees, and then….’

  ‘Hyan, I only came because Mr Banik insisted….’

  Ira realised why her landlady looked like she was about to crumble into dust and blow away. Mrs Bhattacharjee had been browbeaten all morning, before she had called her.

  Ira looked around with lowered brows, and the voices immediately died down. Cowards too.

  ‘Who told you the man is my friend?’ She asked Mr Banik. She was glad that her voice sounded even, though her heart was hammering away in her chest.

  ‘Security told us.’ There was a murmur from everyone in the room.

  ‘Security? What did they say? Can I see the entry ledger?’ This was one of the things her parents and friends had warned her about when she had decided to come to the city and live alone. If they don’t like you, they will start spinning stories to destroy you. She didn’t know about being destroyed, but she could be severely inconvenienced if they decided to pin this on her.

  Mr Banik had the grace to look discomfited. ‘There is no entry in the ledger, but security says he let the man through because he knew he was your friend. That he has a habit of coming here.’

  ‘Then he’s lying.’ Ira burst out hotly. ‘This is a barefaced lie!’

  A voice from the crowd called out, ‘But my dear man, is security just letting people through because they “know they’re our friends”? That doesn’t make me feel very safe, eh? There’s a procedure. They should make an entry in the ledger and then call the flat on the intercom; if it goes unanswered then the guard should know that no one is home. And here the gentlemen are just letting people through because they know they are friends?’

  Mr Banik gave the man an overly patient look, like he was tiresome and should stop talking.

  ‘Yes, yes, I am aware that security has been remiss. We all know there wouldn’t be a murdered body in the lift now if they’d done their jobs.’

  ‘What “now”? The body’s still in the Wing 1 lift?’ cried an excited voice of a woman.

  ‘Of course not,’ snarled Mr Banik. ‘Can we please focus?’

  ‘Look, I don’t know this man, Mr Talukdar,’ Ira cut through the chorus of voices as she turned to him. ‘You were there when we all discovered the body; did I look like I knew him?’

  Mr Talukdar looked uncomfortable. ‘How am I supposed to know what you’re er…supposed to look like…besides I opened the door to see you women already there. And you even told me there’s a man inside the lift. So, I wasn’t really there when you saw the body.’ His brows bristled at being put in a spot.

  ‘Look, look. We do not have dirty minds. Perhaps he was…a relative, eh? Or or…yes, a relative. Was he?’ The secretary had obviously settled on an avuncular approach, since the bullying tone had backfired. With these modern women, one had to be craftier.

  ‘No, I don’t know him.’ Ira’s answer was preoccupied; she was still puzzling through the security’s response. ‘It’s just the security guard’s word against mine. I have no idea why they would say such a thing, but that’s how it is.’

  Mr Banik looked thoughtful.

  Mr Talukdar cleared his throat to launch a renewed attack, ‘How do we know…?’

  ‘It seems to me…,’ called out a male voice from the back. Ira turned around to face this onslaught from a new quarter. It was Mr Sinha, now all covered up and looking better for it. ‘…that we are just haranguing this girl for the entertainment of it. For all we know, he could have been a delivery man who came to deliver something to her flat. These young people are forever getting things delivered to their doorsteps, too lazy to step out, I suppose. Or security could be mistaken.’ The bearded man twinkled a smile in Ira’s direction.

  ‘Who was this man? What was his name?’ Mrs Sanyal of Wing 3, with the blunt cut and the dangly spectacles that bounced on her bosom, piped up.

  Some of them turned to Ira like she would clear up this question but looked away quickly, when she began to swell in indignation.

  ‘Yes, couldn’t the police identify him when they came? Were there no papers on him?’ said a tiny, elderly lady in a crisp white sari. It was Mrs Ghoshal, Kedar’s mother, someone Ira had a passing acquaintance with.

  Mr Banik held up a hand to stem the tide of questions. He looked irritated by the turn the meeting had taken. ‘The police did come, at around 4.30 am. They took the body, but checked his pockets right in front of me. The corpse had nothing in any of his pockets. Picked clean it was. They said they will send their investigative team in a few hours to get to the bottom of it. They have not arrived yet. The constables outside are not forthcoming about the arrival of the inspectors so when they will come is anyone’s guess. But once they do, we will have to allow security to talk to them. You cannot ask us to suppress such crucial information from the police.’ He waggled his head sanctimoniously at Ira.

  Ira gritted her teeth. ‘Please do as you see fit. I would however like to have a word with the guards to understand….’

  ‘OHO!’ Mr Talukdar’s explosive exclamation made the people near him jump. ‘Don’t you dare try to influence those guards, madam.’

  ‘This is why,’ interjected another lady in a mild tone, ‘I had suggested at our last meeting that we install CCTVs, at least at the entrance. All these accusations would have been quite unnecessary, we would have got our answers from there.’

  ‘We wouldn’t have been able to hear what he said to the guard, madam…’ Mr Banik barely contained an eye roll.

  The lady bridled at the thinly veiled contempt in his voice. ‘Thank you for explaining that to me, Mr Banik; it is quite unnecessary I assure you. We would at least have been able to check if at all he had said anything, the body language of both the guard and the man, whether they knew each other. There is a possibility he was a friend of the guards and not Miss Dutta’s. From what I understand, we don’t even know when this man came in, the guard has been unclear on that point. CCTV footage would have cleared that up.’

  ‘We had no need of such new-fangled contraptions all these years, Mrs Sanyal. Not until that is, Mrs Bhattacharjee decided to let out her flat to new-fangled people….’

  Both Ira and Mrs Bhattacharjee opened their mouths to retort at this.

  ‘Okay, okay, I think we’ve he
ard enough,’ declared Mr Sinha from the back. ‘We are going around in circles and getting more vicious by the minute! I have things to do. I’m sure this young lady needs to get to work, unlike us retired people. Mrs Bhattacharjee too! Thank you for speaking to us so promptly. Do keep us posted if there are further developments. Good day, all!’ And with a cheery wave, he got up spryly and walked out of the room without a backward glance. A few others followed suit, which developed into a general exodus by twos and threes.

  Ira hung back to wait for Mrs Bhattacharjee. She wanted to make an unhurried, dignified exit. They both left together, feeling the glares of Talukdar and Banik burn holes in their backs.

  ‘Come up for tea?’ Ira murmured to her landlady.

  Mrs Bhattacharjee nodded assent, and smiled gratefully. ‘I’m already an hour late for work, but a cup of tea seems crucial right now.’

  *****

  Nandana had had nightmares all night. She had been in no shape to get up when her alarm trilled at 5.30 am, so she switched her alarm off and poked her husband in the side. ‘Could you please get the kids ready for today? I can’t even open my eyes.’

  Kushal gave her a reassuring nod, and flapped his hands to indicate she should go back to bed. She complied with alacrity.

  Nandana slept dreamlessly until 8 am. As the fog of her mind cleared she heard the sound of her family talking in the living room.

  Uff, they’d all stayed home. As she lay in bed, the image of the body floated up in front of her eyes. She rubbed her eyes viciously, making them sting. But the corpse stayed, legs splayed brazenly on the lift floor as the blue emergency light flickered luridly over the scene. The horror deepened when she caught sight of the reflection of the back of the man’s head. The woman in the mirror opened her mouth to scream but no noise came out….

  Oh God! Nandana flung an arm over her eyes, wishing she could go back to sleep. Her daughter’s head appeared round the door sill. ‘Hi Ma, feeling better?’

  ‘Er…’ How much had Kushal told her? ‘I’m …I’m okay, Piya. Did you guys get any…had breakfast?’

  ‘Yes. Delicious! We ate aloor paratha, absolutely STUFFED with aloo. We ate it with dollops of ghee. I love it when Baba makes breakfast.’

  ‘I do, too,’ Nandana said with a tired irony that was lost on her daughter. Her son bounded up and landed on her stomach with a whoomp.

  ‘Today is a chhuti!’ Prithwish shrieked.

  ‘Oh God,’ she groaned. Yet, she was secretly happy they were all home. She didn’t know how she would have felt all alone in the flat today. Kushal had made the right call.

  Her husband now peered in as well, with an enquiry on his face. ‘Okay kids, let your mum rest. I’ll put that dragon movie on now.’

  At the utterance of the magic words, the room was cleared in seconds. Kushal returned after a while and sat down next to her.

  ‘How do you feel?’ His voice sounded concerned, almost tender.

  She propped herself up against his shoulder and massaged the beating pulse of an incipient headache with her fingers.

  ‘Terrible.’

  He put his arm around her. ‘It’s just bizarre what happened.’

  ‘God, I know! Never in my thirty-five years have I seen such a sight….’

  ‘The police are doing the rounds I hear―they went to that journalist girl’s house first, of course. People are saying the man was her friend.’

  ‘Huh, really?’ Nandana’s head snapped up.

  ‘Yes, apparently…well…some of the people were saying, men… turn up from time to time. This was another of them. Beats me why she would kill them though….’

  ‘She’s, she’s admitted to…? That…that ghastly man was her friend?’

  ‘I don’t know, I guess we can ask the police when they come by.’

  ‘The police? You think they’ll come to speak to me?’

  Kushal had a strange look on his face. ‘Of course. You were the first person to see him, weren’t you?’

  ‘I…I think so. The girl came up the stairs after I saw him in the lift.’

  ‘I see.’

  There was a pause as both of them sank deep in their thoughts.

  Kushal turned to her, as though he had been mulling things over, and had come to a decision.

  ‘I asked you last night, and I’m asking you again. Why were you there, Nandana?’ his words came out in a rush. ‘Why were you there, two floors down, at 2 am, after all of us were asleep? Whom were you expecting to meet?’

  Nandana’s hand jerked back from where it had lain atop his. ‘I…surely you are not accusing me of anything?’

  ‘I’m just asking an obvious question. I’m sure you have an explanation.’

  Nandana and Kushal stared at each other, as the sounds of their children laughing uproariously at the movie rolled through their home.

  *****

  Mrs Bhattacharjee had already left an hour ago, when a thunderous knocking on the door revealed two police officers.

  It was never pleasant to tangle with the people in white, and this was just another awful continuation to a day that had begun with a corpse in Ira’s lift.

  ‘Would you like to come in?’

  The pair stepped in, and looked around them with a proprietary air. They seated themselves on her second-hand cane sofa without an invitation, leaving her to pick the low, cushioned mora opposite them. Immediate disadvantage.

  The male officer took out a small notepad and flicked through it ostentatiously. At the sign of resistance from a disobedient page he licked a finger and tried again. The page went over with a loud hiss of disgust, it seemed to Ira. She endeavoured to keep her face as neutral as possible.

  The woman just stared at her face, saying nothing.

  Ira looked at her watch and then back at the man fussing over something in his notebook. Was the silent treatment a torture tactic? She had to control her lip from curling in amusement. But damned if she would launch into a speech defending herself. She’d see what questions they ask first.

  The policeman was done flicking. He had a sonorous, sleepy voice. ‘Your doorbell doesn’t work.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, that’s true.’

  ‘We were trying for quite long before we knocked on the door.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘I’m Inspector Bose and this is Inspector Bidisha Lodh.’

  ‘My name is Ira Dutta,’ she smiled and inclined her head.

  ‘Yes, we know that. We came here for a reason, Miss Dutta.’

  ‘Right, right. I know, I was informed by some of my neighbours in the morning.’

  ‘Now, tell us. How did you know the gentleman who was murdered?’

  ‘I…I didn’t. I’ve never seen him before.’

  The two officers exchanged an amused look. ‘Madam, we have obviously spoken to your building security before coming here.’

  ‘Look. This is a bit of a nightmare. I don’t know why they said so. I don’t know him. I had just returned. I walked up the stairs and met Mrs Roy after she saw the body.

  How could I have done that? I couldn’t have killed him and then run up and down the stairs on the off chance that other people were walking around the corridors at 2 am, could I? Besides, the man must have been dead for at least a few minutes when we found him. He looked quite dead.’

  ‘We are not accusing you of anything, madam,’ piped in the woman. ‘Yet. Also… there are many ways even that can be done, Miss Dutta, if a criminal is keen enough. We encounter all sorts on the job. However, as we said, we have no suspects yet; just one unidentified corpse and many, many people who found it. Okay, now tell us your activities for that day.’

  ‘I left the building as usual at 4 pm. I was at work from 4.45 in the afternoon. And returned at 2 am.’

  ‘Unusual hours; what do you do, madam?’

  ‘I’m a chief sub-editor at a newspaper, The Kolkata Quill.’

  ‘Ah!’ Both looked delighted. Ira doubted it was pleasure at meeting a member of the journalist
ic fraternity.

  ‘The guards at the gate must have seen me go in. You can ask them if I hadn’t walked in at 2.’

  ‘Madam, we will do our job. Your job is to answer the questions.’

  ‘Right. I’m just saying.’

  ‘So, you weren’t there when the murder took place, you’re saying. Because you left the house at 4 pm?’

  The lady cop moved around the room, picking up things and putting them down again.

  She finally resumed her place next to her colleague, then picked up the square metal vase that Ira kept on the table―a housewarming gift from some of her colleagues.

  The woman’s fidgeting was making Ira jumpy. She looked away. ‘Yes?’ She felt a strong urge to pee.

  Both the people in uniform smiled. ‘And before that?’

  ‘Woke up around noon. Ate, bathed, let the lady who cleans my house in, watched TV.’

  Inspector Lodh hefted the brass vase one last time and set it back on the table with a muffled thud. ‘Why doesn’t your doorbell work?’

  Ira was startled by the change of tack.

  ‘I got the electrician to disconnect it a few days ago. Too many people ringing the bell in the morning when I sleep. I’ve had some nuisance neighbours misusing it also.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Tuesday evening.’

  ‘Meaning, the night before the murder?’

  ‘I suppose so, yes.’

  ‘Isn’t it a problem, a bell that doesn’t work? People who think you’re not home and leave, your maid for example?’

  ‘Nah, anyone who visits can call me on my mobile. They usually do if I don’t answer the door. I leave that switched on. No problem.’ Ira shrugged.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Where do your parents stay, madam?’

  ‘Anikapur.’

  ‘They must worry about you a lot.’

  ‘Not really, I can take care of myself. I visit home from time to time.’

  ‘Some people here seem convinced the man was connected to you.’ It was a flat statement, with no question in it.

  Ira shook her head. What more could she add?

  ‘The problem is, we can’t identify the man immediately and that is a hindrance. Of course, there will be a fingerprint analysis and all that, but we’d like to know right now. We could ask everyone concerned better questions, zero in on who knew him, motive, that kind of thing. You’re positive you don’t know him? Because surely, from what we hear, you only got a quick glimpse. Have another look and tell us.’