by Vish Dhamija
If anyone ever came looking for us, they would definitely be misguided to look further in Greece, though there was hardly a chance someone would come looking after six years, they had decided.
'Here's to us.' Nikos had poured wine for both of them.
'Cheers.' Serena picked up her glass.
'We fly to Athens and spend a few days there, before moving to Spain.'
'Anything you say.'
'There's a lot of work to do. We need to sell the car, pack our stuff in, only, as much baggage as we can carry on the flight… leave this penthouse and your apartment.'
'I have asked the estate agent to come down and take the inventory tomorrow morning, so I should be out of that apartment before the end of the week to move in with you,' Serena said with a smile.
'That's great. Let's make a comprehensive list of tasks we need to do before we say goodbye to this country.' Nikos got up to get his computer.
***
Mumbai
Late December 2001
D'Cunha had been through almost all of the papers collected so far. There were a few common names in the counterfeit share deals, and though the list of possible culprits was long enough, the gyre tightened every time one of them got eliminated from a search. In the end, one company — Savvy Consultants — was common throughout the reports. This company had traded all the said shares at some point in time, and since it was no more in existence, the search went cold, every time, after they had bought, because no one could uncover to whom this company had sold. The address given on the documents was a residential one in Worli. He called up his old office, in Worli, to check out the apartment before he arrived. He was told that a company that owned the apartment used it as its guesthouse. 'No one lives there except for an old caretaker,' one of the junior officers told him.
'Did he tell you who lived or worked there before?'
'No one has lived there for a long time. It is considered an inauspicious apartment sir.'
'Why?' D'Cunha got curious.
'It seems there was a fire in the apartment, some years ago, and the young owner died in the accident. No family wanted to buy it after that, so a company bought it for its guests.'
It all came back to D'Cunha in a flash. The fire, the accident, the death of the young owner who was a financial consultant, the young widow…
He obviously owned Savvy Consultants and knew what was coming his way and therefore committed suicide. And I was naïve enough to think that it was an accident, D'Cunha thought.
To confirm this, D'Cunha went over to the apartment; sure enough, it was the same one. He remembered the whole episode like it was only yesterday. He tried recollecting the name of the beautiful young wife to whom he had finally given a clearance for the insurance payout, but he couldn't. It had been over five years. He felt certain that the culprit in the counterfeiting case had known the end was nigh, and hence, to escape the naked fear of getting exposed, had been driven to the dire step of ending his life. He realised that although his investigation had been comprehensive, the end result was surely wrong. Back at his office, he went through a lot of old files to get the information he required.
Mr Raaj Kumar, owner of Savvy Consultants, died in an accidental fire at his Worli residence on August 18th, 1996. D'Cunha remembered he was the one who first attended the case and had called the wife while she was in Singapore... Kumar's burnt passport was still in the files. As part of the protocol, he couldn't take any papers out of the office and he left, disgruntled, after a few hours. He made one last attempt to look through the records of all other traders, but no one seemed to be out of order except Savvy Consultants. There were a few other brokers, but they had only dealt with these shares once or twice. Implicating them into this scam did not feel right at this point. He was absolutely convinced before he called Kabir, and said, 'I think I know who it is.'
'Do not say anything on the phone and don't mention it to anyone in Mumbai. Please take the next flight to New Delhi with all the relevant papers. I shall see you in the office on Monday.'
'Okay.'
'Carry everything, even if means booking extra baggage. We don't know what we could require for evidence.'
'Yes, Kabir.'
'And say hi to Victoria,' Kabir gagged.
'You still haven't forgotten her?'
'I don't forget easily.' Kabir remarked before he put the phone down.
What will happen when he knows that I blew up on such a serious case. He's not known to tolerate mediocrity, D'Cunha thought as he disconnected the call.
33
New Delhi
January 2, 2002
D'Cunha prepared, organised and reorganised to ensure his confidence did not falter when he presented the case to Kabir. He had always been extremely proud of his career record, but the solitary instance in which he had bungled turned out to be the one that had got reopened because of another high profile case he was investigating for Kabir. The files in Mumbai police station clearly mentioned that the case investigated by Senior Inspector Michael D'Cunha had been closed as an "Accident."
Kabir had demonstrated immense confidence in D'Cunha, but he rarely forgot and seldom forgave. A blunder such as this could well mean the beginning of the end of D'Cunha's career.
I might end up as a traffic police officer. He almost cried thinking of it.
D'Cunha struggled to think how he would explain the five year-old case he had closed as an accident without charging anyone. Nevertheless, he was up early in the morning and carried all the papers to the office in a cab. Kabir was already at his desk with a coffee.
'Welcome, Michael. What is it?' Kabir figured D'Cunha was under undue stress.
'Nothing…I mean I have the files here that provide evidence that all the shares connect to one source, after which all tracks go missing because the company that traded them is closed now.' D'Cunha made an effort not to sound stressed.
'Could we not find the owner or manager?'
'The company closed in 1996,' D'Cunha clarified.
'Oh. Why am I not surprised?'
'What is disturbing is that the owner — and sole proprietor — of the company died in a mysterious fire in his apartment in August the same year,' D'Cunha said softly.
'And?' Kabir prompted D'Cunha to complete the story quickly.
'I was the inspector heading the investigation and it was stopped half-way because of certain people who did not want me to question a girl…'
Kabir was listening.
'Eventually, after weeks of investigation, I found no evidence of foul play and closed the case as an accident, rather than the suicide which it looks like now. I gave a No Objection Certificate to his wife to claim insurances. I can assure you that given the circumstances, I had left no line of enquiry unattended.' D'Cunha was almost pleading now.
Kabir's face changed colour faster than a chameleon could keep pace with. It first showed anger, changed into disgust and — in a matter of minutes — to despair. He did not know what to say at this point and decided to stay quiet for a few minutes. D'Cunha could sense the silent anger in Kabir's eyes. 'That's okay, Michael, we all make mistakes. Who was the guy?' he asked after the news of D'Cunha's failure had sunk in.
'Mr Raaj Kumar.'
'And where is his wife now?'
'She works in a bank in Mumbai, so we can contact her if you say so,' D'Cunha offered, feeling a bit better that Kabir hadn't taken the news as unfavourably as he had anticipated.
'What's her name?'
'Serena.'
Kabir closed his eyes for a few moments. The names sounded too familiar to be true. 'What was the name you said?' he asked to confirm.
'Serena Kumar.'
'You mean Raaj Kumar and Serena?' Kabir confirmed.
'Yes.'
'I had two classmates in my college days with the same names…' He laughed it off.
'Was it at the Faculty of Management Studies?' D'Cunha's suspicion grew as he suddenly remembered that he had seen the Class of 1
987 group photograph in Kabir's old office but, at the time, hadn't dared to ask about it.
'Yes... how do you know?'
'I remember it all now, Kabir. It might have been the same couple.'
'It cannot be.' Kabir sounded sure and wagged his head.
'You sound very confident...'
'When did you say all this happened; in 1996?'
'Yes.'
'I was in Germany in 1998, travelling through Frankfurt. I saw Raaj and waved. He was in a rush — must have been doing the same as me — but he waved back at me. He obviously recognised me.'
'1998, did you say?'
'Yes, I was involved in the security arrangements for the tourism minister and we had travelled to Cologne for a fair. So it's got to be 1998 for sure.'
'But… Raaj died in 1996. How can that be possible?'
'It cannot be, that's why I am sure it cannot be the same couple,' Kabir said. 'If he died in a fire in 1996, how could he be in Frankfurt in 1998?'
'Do you have that group photograph here?' D'Cunha asked.
'No. But we can always get that. Are you certain about the year, Michael?'
'I am confident Raaj died in 1996. I am not sure the year they finished college. It could have been two different years and two different men.' D'Cunha comforted himself. He surely didn't want a case that he had closed as an accident turn out to be even more mystifying than a suicide.
'My appetite for truth has suddenly increased, Michael. Let's go and check out the photograph now.' Kabir got up from his chair and collected his phone. They locked the office and came out to go to his home, since he had vacated his old office when he moved. As the driver was present in the car they decided not to talk about the case. 'Raaj and Serena…' Kabir said closing his eyes to drown in his past.
'Was he the kind to do anything like this?' D'Cunha could not hide his inquisitiveness.
'Raaj exhibited a joie de vivre I had never seen in a human being before or since, in my life, so I can rule out suicide without going into the details of the enquiry… if it is the same Raaj we are talking about.' Kabir summarised Raaj's character.
'I have a feeling we are talking about two different individuals,' D'Cunha murmured.
'I hope we are, Michael. I sincerely hope we are...'
They were in Kabir's large bungalow in GKII that he had inherited from his parents. It had a similar feel to Kabir's office, with trophies of his late father, the Colonel, all over the place. On one of the main walls of the room there was a large portrait of his parents proudly looking at their son accomplishing his dream and career. There were leather sofas, and one could tell by the feel of the material that they were a bit old. It looked like Kabir had not bothered to buy or change much in the house since his parents passed away. He lived alone in the large house and had no tenants. On one corner of the enormous living and dining room was a well-stocked bar. D'Cunha had always known, through the grapevine, about Kabir and his love of whisky.
'Have a seat. I'll go and open the cartons that came from the office when we moved. I didn't open them thinking I'd have to move again when the current case is over,' Kabir told D'Cunha.
'Do you need any help?'
'I'll manage, don't worry. Why don't you fix yourself a drink in the meantime?'
'It's only three in the afternoon.' D'Cunha glanced at his watch.
'Suit yourself, Michael. None of the bottles, here, come with the warning that you cannot drink in the afternoon,' Kabir chuckled and disappeared into the house.
'Here it is.' He was out in five minutes holding the large photograph. 'Can you spot your Raaj?'
D'Cunha took the photograph and looked at it for a minute while Kabir, standing near him, made drinks for both of them. 'He's the one standing next to you… and this is Serena, his wife.' D'Cunha confidently identified the two in the picture.
The tumbler full of alcohol fell from Kabir's hand and shattered on the marble floor, as he stood there shocked. He had, until the last minute, believed that this could be a comedy of erring names, but with D'Cunha spotting both Raaj and Serena in the photograph, the truth he didn't want to face hit him hard. He glanced to see if D'Cunha had recognised the right faces and saw the truth. It felt like a close friend had betrayed him. 'The culprit is obvious now, Michael. The crime and the motive are clear enough, but the explanation is less so,' he said, the moment he could gather himself again.
'I know you might not like me asking you this, but are you sure you saw him and not someone else?' D'Cunha asked softly.
'Michael, I spent two years in college with this guy. We were really close friends for the first three months… I mean there was no bad blood after that...and though we drifted apart, I saw him virtually every day. I recognised him instantly when I saw him after eleven years. He hadn't changed,' confirmed Kabir.
'I can vouch for that too. The person I saw in the morgue was this Raaj,' D'Cunha looked at the photograph again.
'How can it be true Michael?' Kabir wasn't actually questioning. It was more an expression of his disbelief.
'I'm equally intrigued.'
'Let me fix another drink before we discuss this in detail. I cannot believe how intertwined these two cases have become.' Kabir quickly poured two large drinks.
D'Cunha felt like he had a new shot of adrenaline injected into him, as Kabir did not seem to blame him for some substandard investigation done five years ago any more. In his mind, he had done everything he could and if he had been allowed to question the model… 'There was a famous model I was interviewing when I was pressured to stop the proceedings,' he suddenly erupted in disgust, shaking his head as an apology.
'I want you to tell me everything about the case from the beginning, please.'
'I had received a call at home around midnight regarding a fire in an apartment in my jurisdiction and I rushed to it. Being midnight, I drove myself and remember being at the incident in forty-five minutes. The fire brigade was already there and had broken the door open to find Raaj drunk and unconscious in his bed. When I reached there, the ambulance had arrived too, and pronounced him dead at the site itself. The neighbours gave me information on the residents and I called a few friends of theirs. One of them told me that Serena had gone for a business trip to Singapore, the day before, so I called her up in her hotel around half-past one. She took the next flight and was back the same day by the afternoon flight.
'I interviewed Serena and there was nothing suspicious about the couple's relationship, they had the usual husband and wife quibbles but no rancourous disputes. She had genuinely travelled on work, which her office confirmed. At that time, the only reason to doubt anyone was the high value insurance policies, which might have been annulled if it was a suicide, but no one, I spoke to, would support my theory of Raaj committing suicide. This scam was not known to anyone back then. The only person I suspected was an up and coming model, Kim…'
'You mean Kim, the face of L'Oreal?' Kabir asked seeing D'Cunha pause for breath.
'Yes, but she was not as prominent back then.'
'Why did you suspect her?'
'She was a close friend of the couple and she knew all about their net worth and insurances and was a witness to the will.'
'So?' asked Kabir since he wasn't convinced that was enough reason to investigate someone.
'The funny thing is that after Raaj dropped Serena at the airport that fateful day… or night, he made a number of calls to Kim asking her to sleep with him. According to her, she declined all advances, but decided not to tell Serena anything about them. Contrary to her statement to the police, the investigation revealed that Raaj was in her apartment for a few hours before he went home from the airport, which made me think that it could be a devious understanding between the two of them designed to throw dust in Serena's eyes. Or maybe their extramarital affair had gone sour and that had led to manslaughter. But she had a strong alibi and political connections, so I was reprimanded and told to drop her from the investigations. The case was on th
e wane at that point, though I kept a watch on both of them for a while but…' D'Cunha tried furnishing every detail from memory and what he had recently seen in the file at Mumbai police station.
Kabir took a large sip to finish his drink. 'I know it is an oxymoron, if ever there was one, but you never thought that Raaj could have killed himself and escaped?'
'No.'
'How did you know that the person who died was Raaj? Who identified him?' Kabir questioned.
'Serena,' said D'Cunha, and then after a brief pause added. 'And Kim.'
'Any neighbours?' Kabir got up to fix another drink for both of them.
'They obviously saw the body being carried out of the residence and recognised him. His passport was also recovered from the apartment and it had his photograph on. As the house was burnt, Kim provided more photographs of Raaj from her albums…' D'Cunha temporarily halted as if his slip-up was coming to light.
'Are you telling me that someone with your intelligence believed the identification by two individuals whom you suspected the most, Michael?' Kabir asked assertively.
Was there anything else that I did to complete the identification? D'Cunha thought hard.
'No. I didn't rely on their identification alone. My suspicious mind led me into that direction of enquiry too, and therefore I sent the samples for DNA matching to the Metropolitan Police in London. We did not have that facility in Mumbai back then.' D'Cunha suddenly remembered the DNA report, which he had seen in the files when he was in Mumbai.
'You sent it for DNA matching? That's interesting… and the results matched?'
'Yes.'
'Where did you get the samples from?'
'They were all over the un-burnt part of the house, Kabir. A forensic expert got them for us so there was no question of doubting that.'
'Michael, our scintillating case rests on a bevy of unusual circumstances, inconclusive evidences and unbelievable reports. How, in heaven's name, can anyone fake DNA? One can only fake the results…' Kabir became aware of what he had said after he had spoken.
