by G. S. Dutt
Inspector Rajan said, ‘Well, thank you. I will see you later.’ Then turning to Nikki, he asked, ‘What about you, young lady? Are you coming with me?’
‘No, thank you. I will stay here for some time.’
Mrs Taneja quietly said, ‘In the afternoon, I will be going to the hostel to collect Jyoti’s things. I will drop her back.’
After the inspector left, Nikki found the atmosphere tense. No one spoke. After an uncomfortable silence, Mrs Taneja stood up. ‘I am going to the temple to offer prayers for Jyoti and will be back in about an hour’s time.’ Turning to Nikki, she asked, ‘Would you like to come with me?’
Nikki replied, ‘No, thanks. I’d rather stay with Uncle.’
After Mrs Taneja left, Nikki took out the white envelope from her pocket and handed it over to Mr Taneja. She said, ‘This was found in Jyoti’s backpack.’
Mr Taneja read the letter. His face became pale.
Nikki took back the letter and put it in her pocket. She asked, ‘Is it correct that you had adopted Jyoti when Aunty gave birth to a stillborn child?’
‘Yes,’ replied Mr Taneja in a dull voice.
‘Does Aunty know about this?’
‘No, I didn’t tell her for obvious reasons. She has thought all along that Jyoti was her own child.’ Then he asked, ‘Do the police know about this letter?’
‘Not yet. I first wanted to get the facts confirmed. Moreover, the letter at this stage would completely devastate Aunty.’ Mr Taneja looked visibly relieved.
Nikki asked, ‘So that means you had met the woman earlier?’
‘Yes, a few days back she came to my office and asked about Jyoti. Although her facts tallied, yet, her bringing up the matter after so many years made me suspicious. I thought it could be a trap engineered by my rivals or perhaps the lady was simply trying to blackmail me.’
‘What exactly did the lady want from you?’
‘She told me that she had recently come to know about the swap of her healthy baby with the dead child done by her husband without her knowledge. She wanted to have her daughter back.’
‘What did you tell her?’
‘I thought one thing might lead to another and I was also not sure about her credentials. So I denied the swap. She looked disappointed and left.’
Nikki asked, ‘Don’t you think the whole thing has put you in a spot? If all the facts are known to the police, they will surmise that you had motive to kill that woman.’
‘What nonsense!’ said a visibly agitated Mr Taneja, ‘Both the murders took place at the same place and at the same time. Do you think I would get my own daughter killed?’
Nikki kept quiet. After a while she asked, ‘Did you meet her husband at the time of the baby swapping?’
‘No, the whole transaction was done by my personal assistant,’ he informed Nikki.
‘Where is he now?’ asked Nikki. ‘He is still in my company but he is now a manager.’
Soon Mrs Taneja returned. They had a quiet lunch in the room after which Nikki and Mrs Taneja left for the hostel.
In the hostel Mrs Taneja began to cry when she saw her daughter’s clothes. She tenderly caressed each article before packing it in the suitcase. When Jyoti’s belongings had been packed, Nikki picked up the bag and went to see her off at the gate.
On the way back, Nikki went to the Common Room and dialled Inspector Rajan’s number. She asked, ‘Sir, did you get any lead about that woman?’
Inspector Rajan said, ‘Yes, the owner of a hotel called us to say that she had stayed with them a few days before her murder. I went to the place. There was nothing much by way of belongings. There were a couple of saris and some other personal things. The significant thing which emerged is that according to the hotel register she had come from Somabad.’
After a brief pause, he said, ‘Do you understand what that means? The woman belonged to the same town as the Tanejas and she was with Jyoti at Crescent Point. But Mr and Mrs Taneja say that they do not know her. I somehow don’t buy this.’
‘So, what do you plan now, inspector?’ Nikki asked.
‘I am sending her photograph to all the police stations in Somabad to find out more information about her. I am sure the two murders are linked,’ said Inspector Rajan.
‘Thank you,’ said Nikki and replaced the receiver.
The next day Jyoti’s body was handed over by the hospital to the Tanejas. Nikki went to their hotel and stayed by their side as they completed the various formalities. Mr Taneja arranged for a hearse, which was in fact a modified ambulance van, for carrying the body. They were planning to leave after lunch. Mrs Taneja said to Nikki, ‘Jyoti had told me that you were to spend your vacation with her in Somabad. She had made a lot of plans for the holidays.’ Nikki kept quiet. Mrs Taneja asked, ‘What are you going to do during the holidays?’
Nikki replied, ‘I don’t have any plans. I suppose I will stay in the hostel.’
‘Why don’t you come with us? You two were so close. You can attend her funeral and stay with us for a few days more. I get a lot of comfort by talking to you.’
Mr Taneja added, ‘Yes, please come. At least for a few days let her have your company. After the holidays my driver will bring you back here.’
Nikki thought for a while and said, ‘Alright, I will come. Let me go to the hostel and pick up my things. I have to inform the warden as well.’
Nikki was secretly happy that the opportunity to go to Somabad had come by itself. As soon as she reached the hostel she called Inspector Rajan and informed him, ‘There is a development. The Tanejas want me to accompany them to Somabad to attend the funeral and to spend a few more days with them.’
‘What have you decided?’
‘Jyoti was my best friend. I want to find out who was behind her murder. Maybe in Somabad I can get some information.’ Then she added, ‘Mr Rajan, can I contact you from Somabad if I need any help?’
‘Of course. Please note down my contact numbers, you can call me any time. I am also giving you the details of my counterpart, Inspector Vinod in Somabad.’
Inspector Rajan continued, ‘The culprit may have committed the murder himself or may have hired a local goon of Sangalina Hills. I am working on both the possibilities. In any case, a connection with Somabad is obvious. I am also not ruling out the Taneja family. So keep your eyes and ears open. I have already spoken to Inspector Vinod. You can contact him if you need help. As soon as I get some tangible lead about the woman, I will come there myself.’
‘Thank you very much, Inspector Rajan,’ said Nikki. She felt elated that the inspector was seeking her help.
— CHAPTER FIVE —
Hunt for the Photographer
The Taneja household fell into a pall of silence soon after the funeral. The next day, when Nikki sat down for breakfast, Mr Taneja had already left for his office. Mrs Taneja had gone to a temple to perform some religious rites. There was no one in the house except the woman who worked there. Nikki said to her, ‘I am going to see a friend. Please tell Aunty that I will be late.’ She left the house and headed for the market. She saw a photo studio and went in. She took out Jyoti’s photograph from her purse and asked, ‘Was this photograph developed by your studio?’ The counter girl flipped the photograph and said, ‘No, Miss.’
Nikki asked, ‘Are there other studios in the town?’
The girl replied, ‘Yes, there are several. There are two down this road and then there are quite a few in the old town area.’
‘Thank you.’
In the next two studios Nikki drew a blank. She went to the old town by bus. The old town market was very congested. She went from shop to shop and finally in one small dingy studio the man at the counter said, ‘Yes, it bears our code. But it was developed some time back. What is it that you want?’
‘The girl whose face is marked in the picture was my best friend. She is no more. I want to get her picture enlarged leaving aside the others in the photograph.’
The shopkeeper l
ooked at the picture and said, ‘The quality of the photograph is not good. It has been taken from a distance with a still camera when the objects were moving. I am not promising anything, but if you bring the negative then I could try.’
Nikki implored, ‘Sir, I have come from Sangalina Hills where both of us were studying. She had given me this photograph as a memento. I don’t know who has got the negatives. I would be grateful if you could check your records and let me know the name and address of the person who got this picture developed from your studio. I will go and get the negative from that person.’
The shopkeeper said, ‘This will take a lot of time. I am afraid I cannot do this now. This is a busy time.’
Nikki took out a hundred rupee note from her purse. Offering it to him she said, ‘This photograph has great sentimental value for me. I will pay you for your time. Please search your records and let me know the details.’
The currency note had a dramatic effect on the shopkeeper. He took it and said, ‘Well, if it is that important to you then I will search for it now. But it will take some time.’
‘Would you like to have a cup of tea, Miss?’ He had suddenly become very friendly!
‘No, thanks.’
The shopkeeper started looking at a register where date-wise entries had been made. After about half an hour, he announced, ‘Here it is. I have got it! Come, Miss, I will show you.’ Nikki went to the counter. He showed a name and address in the register. The name was Satish Kumar, House Number 44, Tooku Vela Street, Old Somabad. Nikki noted it down on a piece of paper. ‘Where is this place?’ she asked.
‘It is at the outskirts of the town. But Miss, it is not a nice locality.’
‘Thank you for your help.’
The shopkeeper beamed, ‘No problem. Please bring back the negative and I will get you an enlarged picture of your friend and also get it mounted.’
‘Thank you so much, and good bye,’ said Nikki smiling back, and left the shop.
Nikki saw a few cycle rickshaws standing at the street corner. She went there and asked, ‘I want to go to Tooku Vela Street.’ The rickshaw drivers looked at her. Two of them declined to go there. One young fellow agreed, ‘I can take you there but you will have to pay the return fare also because I will not get any passenger from that place.’ Nikki took out a fifty rupee note from her purse and said, ‘Take this and let’s go.’
The rickshaw took Nikki through a labyrinth of narrow congested streets to practically outside the town. From there he took another route and pointed to an isolated cluster of houses at some distance. ‘There is Tooku Vela locality.’ He stopped the rickshaw at the beginning of a narrow dirty street and said, ‘This is as far as the rickshaw can go.’
Nikki entered the street and looked for house number 44. The houses were not numbered. A few boys were playing in the street, Nikki asked one of them, ‘Where is house number 44?’ The boy said, ‘Who do you want to meet?’
‘Satish Kumar.’
‘Oh, that photographer. Come I will take you to his house.’ It was a corner house. When they reached the gate the boy said, ‘You stay here, I will call him.’ After a while a lean dark young man came to the door.
He said, ‘What do you want?’
Nikki replied, ‘I have been sent by Asha Sayal.’
‘I don’t know any person by that name,’ said Satish, shaking his head.
Nikki took out the photograph from her purse and asked, ‘Did you take this photograph?’
He looked at the photo carefully and said, ‘Yes, but what about it?’
‘I want to talk to you about this photograph. Can I come in?’
The man shrugged, ‘OK.’
Nikki followed him to a small open quadrangle. It led to two rooms. One was locked from outside, the man took her to the other one. It was a small room with a window opening to another street. It had a bed, a chair and table and a lot of photographs pasted on the walls. A number of photo albums were scattered all over the floor. He said, ‘This is my studio and also my bedroom. Please sit on the chair. I will be comfortable on the bed.’
When Nikki sat down she asked, ‘Where did you take this photograph?’
‘In the Central Park.’
‘Do you know the girls in the picture?’
‘No, I don’t know any of them. Someone in the park asked me to take a photograph of these girls and I took it.’
Nikki asked, ‘Who was that person?’
Satish replied, ‘I’m a freelancer. I frequent various parks with my camera. Usually couples or families ask me to take a photograph. In this case a man asked me to take this photograph without the girls knowing that they were being photographed. He paid me two hundred rupees in advance and promised another three hundred on delivery.’
‘Where did you deliver the photograph?’
‘He collected it in the same park on the following evening. But why are you asking all this?’
Nikki informed him, ‘Because the girl whose face has been marked in the photograph has been murdered by someone. Her mother was also found murdered along with her. I got this photograph from the belongings of her mother.’
Satish was shocked. He said, ‘Oh my god! Why would anyone want to kill her?’
Nikki sighed, ‘This girl was my best friend. I must find the man who asked you to take her photograph. He may have given the photograph to her mother and could perhaps provide some information about the killings.’
Satish thought for a while and then suddenly his face lit up. He got up from the bed excited, and said, ‘I’m also an artist. I could draw a pencil sketch of him. You have some time?’ he asked enthusiastically.
Nikki smiled. What a happy coincidence!
The sketch which he drew looked almost lifelike. It was a big round face with a moustache and a strange roguish twitch near the upper lips, which made the face distinctive. His eyes were alert and he had short hair standing erect on his head. Nikki exclaimed, ‘This is excellent. You are a good artist.’
Nikki took a hundred rupee note and extending it towards him said, ‘I must pay you for this sketch.’ Satish refused, saying, ‘I will not take any money for this. After what you have told me, if this sketch can help you in some way I will be more than happy.’
‘Thank you very much,’ said Nikki appreciating his spirit. Satish came out with her to the end of the street and found her another rickshaw to go back to the town.
Having got the sketch she had now to find that man. Perhaps the best bet for getting information about him, she thought, would be the hotel where Asha Sayal was staying.
— CHAPTER SIX —
Evergreen Hotel
The next morning, she took out the receipt of Evergreen Hotel. There was no telephone number on it. She looked through the telephone directory and found that under the ‘Hotel’ listing there were several hotels with the name starting or ending with ‘Green’, ‘Green light’, ‘Green ways’, etc., but the name ‘Evergreen’ was not there. After a lot of search she found it in the residential listing under ‘E’. The address was ‘20/II, Bus Stand Road, Somabad’.
It was not difficult for her to reach Bus Stand Road, but locating the hotel took considerably long. When finally someone guided her to it, she noted that she had crossed the hotel a couple of times just a while ago without having realised it. It hardly looked like a hotel, and resembled one of the smaller travel lodges which are usually set up near the bus stands or railway stations for transit passengers. The entrance was like a passage to a house. The signboard which was hung on a branch of a tree had not been painted for ages. Nikki went in and saw a narrow counter on one side. A man was standing behind the counter in what appeared to be the reception.
Nikki took out the key and the receipt and said, ‘I have been sent by Asha Sayal who is staying in your hotel.’
‘But she is not here these days,’ said the man.
‘Yes I know. She is currently in Sangalina Hills. Since I was coming to Somabad she gave me the key to her room an
d asked me to get some woollen clothes as it is quite cold over there.’
The man looked suspicious. ‘Are you related to her?’ Nikki hesitated for a fraction of a second and said, ‘Yes, I am her niece.’
The man asked, ‘What do you do in Sangalina Hills?’ Nikki took out her ID card and showed it to him, ‘I am a student. I have come here for a few days with a friend and shall be going back soon.’
The ID card put the man at ease. He said, ‘You can go up. Her room number is 9, on the first floor.’
Nikki climbed a narrow dingy staircase which was surrounded by dirty walls. The stairs opened into a corridor. The rooms were on one side of the corridor, while the other side was an open balcony. Room number 9 was at the end of the corridor. She opened the door and went in, closing and bolting it from within. She looked around. It was a bare room with a bed, a chair, a side table with a lamp on it which had a dirty shade.
There was a wooden cupboard which was locked. At one corner a suitcase was lying on a raised platform. The bed was neatly made and apart from a plastic bottle with water and an empty glass, there was nothing else in the room. The room had a window at the far end. When she opened it, the whole cacophony of a bustling bus terminal swept in. She quickly closed it. She checked the suitcase. It was locked. She desperately wanted to find some more information about the woman. Perhaps she could find something useful in the suitcase. But how could she open it? The purse had only the room key. The key for the suitcase must be somewhere in the room, she thought to herself. She suddenly remembered Jyoti’s habit of putting things in the pillow case whenever she wanted to hide something from her. Nikki came back to the bed and put her hand in the pillow case. Sure enough the key was there. She opened the suitcase, and found clothes and some other personal belongings but nothing of much interest. She put her hand in the upper pocket of the suitcase. Something came into her hand. It was a brown envelope. When she opened it she saw a bank statement. She went through the statement. It had Asha Sayal’s name on the top and contained two entries. The first entry was a deposit of 500. The second entry was of a deposit of 10 lakhs. ‘10 lakhs in the name of Asha Sayal!’ Nikki said aloud. This was beyond her wildest imagination. She read it twice and checked the date. Both the deposits had been made on
