No one said anything, so Marlee decided to play a little game. “It’s one or more of these three people right here,” she said making a sweeping gesture toward Eleanor, Crispin, and Patel.
Crispin burst out into a hearty laughter, and Professor Patel rose to his feet. “I had nothing to do with Raj’s death, and you have no proof that I did.”
“Eleanor, how did you and Raj end your relationship?” asked Marlee.
Eleanor looked around, fumbling for words. There was no use in denying it; everyone already knew about the affair between her and her graduate student. “It wasn’t over. We argued, but we did not break up. In fact, I was going to divorce Crispin, so Raj and I could be together and to raise our baby together.”
There was a collective gasp throughout the room as the baby’s paternity had just been speculation up to that point. “We were going to be married,” Eleanor insisted.
“No, I don’t think so, Eleanor,” Marlee said in a measured tone. “I think Raj had either tired of the affair or had just been using you all along. Either way, he was finished. He called you after I let him in at the faculty lounge after the New Year’s Eve outing he and I had. You went to see him, and he broke it off with you. I don’t know how you managed it exactly, but you must have surprised Raj by hitting him with something heavy when he wasn’t looking. He fell to the floor where you repeatedly hit him with the object. Then you kicked him all over which resulted in his broken bones.”
“I did no such thing!” Eleanor shouted. “I loved him, and he loved me. I would never harm the father of my child!”
“You didn’t argue with him here in the faculty lounge that night?” Marlee asked.
“Well, yes, we argued, but I didn’t harm him in any way. He called me to meet him. This is where we met on campus after hours,” Eleanor said. Nearly everyone in the faculty lounge at that moment looked around the room with distaste. Oblivious to the reaction of the crowd, Eleanor continued. “Raj told me he was assaulted by his brother and didn’t feel it was safe to live in his family’s home any longer. He wanted us to run away to England where we could be married and have our child.”
“And you believed him?” Marlee asked. When Eleanor nodded, Marlee continued. “Would it surprise you if I told you Raj also suggested that he and I get married? He told me he was gay and wanted me to marry him in the United States so he could remain there. I think he was looking for any way possible to get out of India.”
“You’re lying,” Eleanor said in a tone which raised the hairs on the back of Marlee’s neck. “Raj was not gay, and anything you think happened between the two of you is purely fancy on your part. He and I were in love, and I was in no way involved in his murder.” She turned toward her husband with an accusatory glare.
“Don’t you put this off on me, Eleanor!” shouted Crispin. “I am more than willing to give you a divorce. In fact, I insist on it now that you’ve confirmed your affair with that graduate student. Really, Eleanor? A graduate student?”
“You had more than one reason to assault Raj or pay to have someone do it.” Marlee set her sights on Crispin, who was feigning a calm she knew he did not possess.
“I would never!” Crispin blustered, his chubby face turning redder than usual.
“You found out about Eleanor’s affair with Raj and you were not only furious, you were insulted that she would lower herself to have relations with a graduate student. You, a full professor and chair of your department, could not keep your wife satisfied at home, and she went out looking for love. What would everyone say about your skills in the bedroom? It would be the talk of the campus for a long time. Of course, you suspected Eleanor was pregnant based on her weight gain and ongoing illness. You believed it was just as likely Raj was the father as you, and it infuriated you. Crispin, you had as much motive as anyone to assault Raj or pay someone to do it,” Marlee said with confidence.
Professor Crispin Kingsley shook his head from side to side and refused to provide additional comment. He crossed his arms as best he could across his ample belly.
Marlee turned her gaze to Professor Manu Patel from her own department. He met her eyes and looked away, much like a student who doesn’t want to get called on during class. “Professor Patel, why don’t you tell us a bit about how Raj had been blackmailing you for the past several months.”
Patel’s deer-in-the-headlights expression conveyed more than he was willing to convey verbally. “Blackmail? I do not know what you mean.”
“Sure you do. Raj found out about the problems you had at University of Mumbai during your doctoral work. There were several problems with your research, and you falsified a reference when you applied for employment here at Delhi University. Raj knew about Hanish Kale’s death, and your part in it. He threatened to tell Delhi University and the cops about it if you didn’t pay him. You’d lose everything; your career and your freedom. Everything. I know about all of your dirty work at University of Mumbai because I spoke with Nivia Kommala, one of your former professors.”
All eyes turned toward Patel, ready to hear his rebuttal to Marlee’s claims. “These are lies, put forth by a professor who attempted and failed to derail my doctoral research. She was envious and did all that she could to get me thrown out of the program. When that did not work, she sought to discredit me by claiming I was involved in Hanish Kale’s death. It was a suicide, and the police investigation will support that.”
“Then why did you pay Raj when he threatened to tell the police and Dean Reddy all of this? I know if I was innocent, I wouldn’t pay a blackmailer,” Marlee proclaimed.
“I am no fool. I know that I am not well liked by my colleagues and students. I had nothing to do with Kale’s death, and the research for my Ph.D. was legitimate. But I know that given the opportunity, I would be ousted from Delhi University. That’s why I paid Raj Sharma when he threatened to disclose these lies,” Patel said, holding Marlee’s gaze.
“What about the false reference that was given in the name of your deceased friend when you applied here?” Marlee asked.
All of the cockiness and disdain was now gone from Patel’s demeanor. “Yes, I admit that one of my friends provided the reference under Hanish Kale’s name. I knew that was enough to get me fired if this matter were opened. That is why I paid Raj Sharma when he demanded money. If the police and university were to look into this matter, my transgression would be discovered.”
“So you gave Raj a beating to let him know you wouldn’t tolerate any further threats from him?” Marlee asked.
“No. I was going to continue paying him until I was able to secure employment at another university. I interviewed at Auckland University of Technology in New Zealand over the semester break and was offered a position there. As soon as the semester is finished in May, I am leaving for Auckland to begin my new life, free of my problems in India,” Patel stated.
“Why did you ask Professor Kommala for a reference for the position here at DU?” Marlee enquired.
“Because everyone knows she is unstable and will not believe a word she says,” Patel commented.
“Eleanor, you did a telephone interview with Kommala, and she provided a horrible reference for Manu Patel. Why did you omit her comments from the interview notes?” Marlee asked, hoping that no one picked up on the fact that she’d perused Patel’s personnel file.
“Even though Mumbai is several hours away, everyone in the sociology discipline in India knows that Professor Kommala is a crackpot. It’s just as Professor Patel said.”
Marlee paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. None of the three top suspects she’d selected seemed to be the one who assaulted Raj. She’d been so sure that one, if not more than one, of them was guilty of causing Raj’s death. Even though his beating was given as a warning, it ended in his demise. Regardless of the initial intent, someone in the room was responsible for the death of Raj Sharma. She took a deep breath, knowing she needed to keep everyone engaged until she could figure out the identity o
f the killer. “One thing we need to discuss is Raj’s gambling problem.”
At 7:30 p.m., a half hour after the meeting began, the door burst open. “What is going on here? demanded Dean Reddy, his face flushed.
Marlee was at a loss. Everyone she wanted at the meeting was already there. She looked across the circle of chairs at Dax and raised her eyebrows. He shrugged, giving her a quizzical look. Dax pulled a chair into the circle and invited Dean Reddy to sit.
“We were just going to talk about Raj and his gambling debts,” Marlee said.
“I had no idea Raj Sharma had gambling debts. That is most unfortunate, yet I had no knowledge of this proclivity, and am not sure what you expect me to say,” the dean said, straightening his tie as he sought to find a comfortable position in his folding chair.
Meena gave an involuntary snort, and everyone in the room turned to look at her. “That is not true. You knew Raj was a gambler and could not control it. I overheard the two of you arguing in your office many times.”
“Why are you lying, Meena? I did no such thing!” Dean Reddy gave his secretary a stern look. It was the look which usually put her in her place if she dared to step out of bounds at work.
“You gave Raj loans to pay off his gambling debts, but he did not settle them. He gambled the money and lost it. I heard you threatened Raj about repaying the money four seperate times,” Meena said with conviction.
“That is absurd, Meena. Why are you telling these lies? Are you feeling well?” Dean Reddy, unable to control his secretary in this public setting, now sought to cast aspersions on her mental health.
Marlee jumped in, not waiting for Meena to rebut the dean’s comments. “When did you hear the last argument, Meena?”
“The last time I heard them arguing was two days before Raj was taken to hospital. Dean Reddy threatened to beat him until he was bloody. Raj promised he would get the money to him the next day.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” Marlee glared at the secretary, knowing this tidbit could have ended the mystery days earlier.
“I wanted to stay out of it. If I said anything about the argument, then Dean Reddy would know it was me because I’m the only one who is close enough to his office to hear what happens in there,” Meena replied, knowing all of the academics in the room were familiar with the dean’s office situated within a large outer-office where the secretary was positioned.
“I did no such thing!” the dean roared, rising to his feet.
“Not only did I hear the arguments, but I recorded them,” Meena countered, a smug smile playing at the corner of her mouth.
“I am sure you misunderstood what you heard. What Raj and I discussed was only part of a conversation. What you heard was out of context,” the dean sputtered as he sunk back into the folding chair.
“You threatened Raj, and when he didn’t pay up on time, you assaulted him right here in this room,” Marlee interjected. “You must have punched Raj and knocked him down. When he was on the floor, you kicked him repeatedly in the stomach, ribs, and even his head. You wanted to send Raj a very clear message about what happens when he doesn’t repay his loans.”
“No! I was not going to kill Raj. I just wanted him to repay the money and interest he owed me. You must understand that!” Dean Reddy pleaded.
Marlee approached Dean Reddy. “I believe you. If you killed him, then you’d never get your money back.”
“He did not mean to kill Raj, but that was the end result,” Meena said. “The beating was more severe than intended, and it led to poor Raj’s death.” She put her hand up to her eye to wipe away a tear.
Up to this point, Marlee had remained silent as she followed Meena’s accusations against Dean Reddy. He admitted to assaulting Raj, but not with the intention to kill. Marlee knew any assault against a person owing money would not intentionally result in death. A death ensured that the debt would not be repaid, whereas a beating was meant to bring about a swift repayment. Marlee thought about the motivations for killing Raj and realized there was only one person who wanted him dead.
Marlee stood, clasping her hands in front of her. Either she was one hundred percent correct, or she was way off base. There was only one way to find out. “Ajay assaulted his youngest brother when he discovered Raj was again embezzling money from the family. Raj then called me, and when we met, he said his brothers beat him because they were told by a fortune teller that he was gay. I suspect he wanted me to feel sorry for him and take him back to the United States with me where he could start a new, debt-free life. That same night, he called Eleanor to meet him, and Raj tried to end their relationship. They argued before Eleanor disclosed that she was carrying his baby. He saw this as another way out, and the two agreed to move to England at the end of the semester, at which time Eleanor would file for divorce from Crispin. I’m sorry, Eleanor, but I believe Raj intended to leave you as soon as he gained citizenship in England.”
With a shake of her head, Eleanor conveyed her disagreement with Marlee’s theory. “We were going to be together as a family after I divorced Crispin.”
“No, I don’t think so, Eleanor. Raj was an opportunist,” Marlee said with an apologetic glance at Raj’s parents. “He needed to leave India to escape his gambling debts and to start a new life. You were merely a way to facilitate his plan.”
Eleanor’s expression showed she didn’t believe anything Marlee had to say. She was confident in her relationship with the now-deceased graduate student.
Seeing that the Eleanor-angle was a dead end, Marlee turned her gaze toward the real murderer. “You said you broke into my apartment looking for Professor Patel’s personnel file, but that’s not the whole story, is it, Meena?”
“You had my personnel file?” interrupted Manu Patel. “I am filing a formal complaint tomorrow morning.”
Meena Sharma sat stone-faced, her gaze turned toward the floor. “I have no idea what you mean, Professor McCabe.”
“Yes, Meena, I think you do. You gave me Patel’s personnel folder knowing I would dig until I found reasons to suspect Patel in bringing about Raj’s death. The truth of the matter is that you saw me writing in my journal and wanted to find out what I knew. You told me you overheard Raj’s parents accuse Ajay of poisoning him. That much is true, you did overhear that conversation. But what I didn’t realize at first is that you were the one who poisoned Raj. You put the cup of poisoned juice in his room and later removed it. Since you’re a family member, you’d heard the rumors of Ajay trying to poison Raj in the past. You saw it as your perfect cover!” Marlee exclaimed. “You thought everyone would belive that Raj died from the beating he endured or from poisoning by his oldest brother.”
“She is out of her mind,” Meena said looking wildly about the room. “I have no reason to kill Raj. He was family and a colleague at university.”
“You had plenty of reason to kill Raj,” Marlee interjected. “He knew what you were writing and was blackmailing you too. Raj found out you were writing erotica and threatened to tell your husband and his parents as well as the university. Meena, you would’ve lost your husband, your children, and your career. You’d be destitute. Without a way to pay Raj, you stalled the payments he demanded until you heard of his assault and hospitalization. You and your husband went to the Sharma home to visit Raj, and that’s when you placed the cup of poisonous juice in his room. After he drank from the cup, you disposed of it. Knowing Ajay’s previous attempt at poisoning Raj, you knew you would be in the clear.”
Meena didn’t respond to Marlee’s accusations. She placed her hands over her mouth and rocked back and forth. “He was so evil. I never knew anyone so evil to the very core.”
“Raj had keys to your office and found your jump drive with the erotica. He made a copy of it in case he needed to use it against you, and voila, he did just a few weeks later,” Marlee said.
“You were writing pornographic books?” shouted Ajay. “And you planned for me to take the blame for my brother’s de
ath?” Meena continued rocking back and forth, not answering any further questions as she pulled the veil of her sari over her face.
Marlee turned toward Dean Reddy. “You’re the one who assaulted Raj here in the faculty lounge. You’re significantly bigger than Raj and probably caught him off guard. The beating was to let him know he needed to repay his gambling debts to you ASAP. Of course you didn’t want Raj dead because you’d never get your money back. But a good old-fashioned beating would send a strong message to Raj and let him know you were tired of waiting for him to repay his debt. He knew you would do something rash, that’s why he was busily scrambling to get out of India by wanting to marry Eleanor and then me. That’s why Raj demanded more money from Professor Patel and why he started blackmailing Meena about her pornographic books.”
Dean Reddy, a smart man with a fair knowledge of the legal system, declined to respond to any further questions. “Dr. McCabe, you can pack your bags and return to America. Your teaching services are no longer needed here. And I assume you,” Dean Reddy said with a nod toward Professor Patel, “would be willing and able to take over the Criminology course Dr. McCabe was scheduled to teach.”
“But of course,” Patel said with a smirk. “I assumed Dr. McCabe would not complete the entire semester here, but I never thought she would leave before it even started.”
Marlee continued as if she hadn’t heard the comments by Dean Reddy or Professor Patel. “And Raj didn’t want to tell anyone who assaulted him. He didn’t want to get Ajay in trouble, because it could bring to light Raj’s embezzlement from the family. And he didn’t want to turn in Dean Reddy because that would mean the loss of both of their positions at Delhi University and possible incarceration. Had Raj disclosed that his brother and then his supervisor had assaulted him, the consequences would have been just as severe, if not more so, for Raj.”
Blood Feud Page 25
