The Astral Alibi

by Manjiri Prabhu

  “How’s that?” Bishan demanded, looking stunned.

  Sonia held up the Hindi book on classical singers.

  “I don’t know how many of you have read this book. There’s a true story in this, a story which supplied Kirit with the seed of his plan. About a famous singer of Gwalior Gharana named Hassu Khan, a singer whose voice was known to be a miracle. His popularity rose because of his divine singing but it also angered the already established court singer, an older man named Mohamad Khan. As the competition between the two singers increased, the envious Mohamad Khan decided to get rid of Hassu Khan, in the most clever fashion possible. One day, in a Sangeet Mehfil— a singing gathering—Mohamad Khan praised Hassu Khan and asked him to sing Raag Malhaar. Unaware that this request held a cunning reasoning on the part of the older singer, Hassu Khan began. This raag contained the Kadak Bijlee ki Taan, a taan which required great effort on the part of the singer. Hassu Khan sang it. Mohamad Khan praised him highly and said ‘Shabbash Bete! Once more!’ Encouraged, Hassu Khan sang the taan again and burst a vein. Soon after this incident, Hassu Khan died!”

  Silence breathed in the room. Sonia’s gaze travelled from one face to the other.

  “Kadak Bijlee ki Taan. A very poignant taan, one which requires every ounce of energy to sing and which can kill the person who is singing it and can startle and create an uneasiness amongst the listeners. Not only that. It can also kill a listener with a weak heart and a body that is frail and dying. Such is the impact of the powerful taan, which flashes like a lightning—bijlee—just like its name. And Kirit knew it. He was aware that if Raujibua, who had forbidden his disciples to sing this taan, heard it, he would be so shocked that anything could happen. Anything—that he could even die! And he was correct. When Raujibua, who was ailing and already emotionally rattled and upset by his disciples, heard the CD, the electric taan sung by Bishan stunned him with its forceful effect and brought on his heart attack. A very natural death, but also a cunning murder. No knife, no poison, no stains, no telltale proofs. Clean and bloodless. Right, Kirit?”

  Kirit was white, his lips pinched. He rose unsteadily and wordlessly walked out of the room. Vandana’s horrified expression spoke volumes. She flew after him, her face pale with consternation. Bishan looked astounded. Sumeet’s face expressed incredulity. Only Mrs. Dharkar appeared composed.

  “Rimaji, can we have some chai?” Sonia suggested. She suddenly felt drained.

  “Right away, in the dining room,” Mrs. Dharkar said crisply. “Come along, everyone.”

  The tambora rested on the divan, a lone instrument sharing the melancholy peace of the shadowy sitting room. A figure slipped into the room and paused. Then, slowly, it moved to the armchair and kneeled before it, clasping the arms of the chair, as if trying to soak in the presence of Raujibua. Tears fell on the worn, polished wood. At last, with sudden resolve, the figure rose and headed straight towards the CD player. As a hand extended to the volume button, the room was abruptly illuminated.

  “Sumeet, I accuse you of mercy-killing your Guruji, Pandit Raujibua Dharkar!” Sonia’s voice rang out coldly.

  Startled, Sumeet straightened. He stared into the determined faces of Sonia, Jatin, and Mrs. Dharkar. From the other side of the room, Vandana, Kirit, and Bishan emerged, their faces hard and unsympathetic.

  “You did it, didn’t you? You were the one who suggested the taan!” Bishan exclaimed angrily. “You made me sing it!”

  “Sumeet?” Kirit spoke in a quiet voice.

  Sumeet’s shoulders slumped and he sighed. His face was tearstained, but his voice was steady when he answered. “Yes, I did it.”

  “But why?” Kirit asked, bewildered. “You loved him!”

  “That is precisely why he did it!” Sonia said. “As I said before, the base of this whole episode is love. Sumeet’s all-eclipsing love for his Guruji. Sumeet was the perfect student, but more than that, he was the perfect son. He nursed his Guruji, met his smallest need, followed every word of his strictly and religiously and saw that his teacher was completely comfortable and satisfied in whatever he required. But then the end of the training neared and the thought terrified him. How would his Guruji cope without him? The older man was suffering too much. I think it was then that the idea entered Sumeet’s head that he had to end his Guruji’s suffering, and as per his Guruji’s wish, ensure that he died listening to music. That, according to Sumeet, was his last duty to Raujibua. He planned the CD as a gift, making Bishan sing the special taan, and also squealing on Bishan and Kirit, by informing Raujibua about the other students’ secrets, making the sick man emotionally weak. And as a last coup, he turned on the volume over the normal range, just before the taan, to ensure the effect he desired. Raujibua suffered a massive heart attack before his eyes. Sumeet succeeded in his mercy-killing. That’s the way it happened, didn’t it, Sumeet?”

  Sumeet’s breathing was shallow. “I loved him a lot. Who would look after him after I left? Some undeserving student would replace me, undedicated like Bishan, trying to take my place. How could anyone ever take my place? How could Guruji live without me? And his illness—so often he would writhe in pain as I held his hand, trying to offer him comfort. How often he said to me that even death would be better than that! It was heartrending! I couldn’t bear the thought of him in some hospital, fighting for his life, away from his music. I had to take destiny into my hands. I had to end his suffering, make his last wish come true. It was the only way I could repay my debt to him. The only way he would ever truly understand my love for him. And so I planned it right. I had read that story about Hassu Khan, so I knew that it wasn’t difficult. And I was successful. I increased the volume, so as not to take any chances. That moment when Guruji passed away, I was filled with sadness and yet with triumph, too. It was an incredible feeling. I was with him and I helped him pass from one state of being to another, from one world to another….”

  The widowed woman stared with revulsion at Sumeet, who seemed not to notice any of their reactions. Bishan’s face was contorted with rage, as he rushed towards Sumeet and caught him by the scruff of the neck.

  “You monster!” he shouted. “You murdered our Guruji! Don’t you see, you brute! I’ll kill you for it! I’ll—”

  “Stop it, Bishan!” Sonia exclaimed, as Kirit and Jatin rushed forward to unscruff the motionless Sumeet.

  “I hate him! I will avenge Guruji’s death! Sumeet allowed me to think that I was the one responsible for his death and I—”

  “The police will take care of Sumeet, not you.”

  “Stop it, all of you!” Mrs. Dharkar interrupted fiercely. “Go away! Bishan and Kirit, go and pack. Just go away, all of you!” She burst out in tears.

  Vandana swiftly moved forward. Taking her mother by the shoulders, she led her out of the room. Sonia stared at Sumeet as he sat, apparently unaffected by their response. An expression of resigned sadness crossed her face.

  “It was the horoscopes, of course,” Sonia remarked. “They told me a remarkable story.”

  Mohnish grinned. “Of course!”

  Sonia returned his smile. “Do I sound clichéd?”

  “Almost!”

  “But it’s the truth!” Jatin protested.

  Sonia nodded. “I am really grateful to my horoscopes for giving me precious nuggets of information on which I can base my deductions. Though I admit that I began this process of discovery with a sandwiched mind—sandwiched between Mrs. Dharkar’s sixth sense of trouble and my own caution. It felt like setting off into a dark tunnel in the middle of the night, with no light to guide me. Except Mrs. Dharkar’s instincts. Which I knew that I wouldn’t ignore until she was proved wrong. It was a precarious situation. So I approached the issue with an emotionless, unbiased mind. When I spoke to each one of the disciples, I realised that they were so different—in their approach to life, to music, and to one another. Bishan was rude and hostile, Kirit was keen to tarnish Bishan’s image, and Sumeet seemed totally self-absorbed. And that i
s what interested me most about Sumeet. The other two, despite their faults, appeared human. But Sumeet’s detachment and the cocoon he was living in distinguished him, proving him to be of far tougher material than the others. But Mrs. Dharkar’s suspicions really began to seem real to me once I read the horoscopes. The difference in each individual was very clear, and the moment I saw Vandana’s and Kirit’s horoscopes, I read the attraction between them, too strong to hide. And I think it had become obvious to Raujibua, too. His comment to his wife that people are not always what they seem and that the best of people can give you pain was intended for Kirit and not Bishan, as I’d thought earlier. The frame in Kirit’s room clearly betrayed that a photo had been removed from the other side of the frame. The first time we visited his room, there were several photos on his table, and many of them were of Vandana—solo and in groups. And a particular solo photo was crumpled round the corners. Although I didn’t make the connection till I read the horoscopes and realized that a very strong emotion was binding the two of them. But since there were no outward signs of affection between them, I decided to tackle that issue by asking Vandana directly and she came out in the open about it, revealing all.

  “It was when I was studying Sumeet’s horoscope, however, that I discovered a most peculiar trait. In fact, I found his entire horoscope fascinating. Libra was his zodiac sign and Aries was in the ascendant. Venus in the second house in its own sign, Taurus, with Neptune in the opposition, showed him to be a great singer. At the same time Rahu and Saturn in the fifth house—the house of education—clearly warned that his learning would not be useful to him. Which I thought was very strange. After putting in years of such hard work, why would his training be futile? But worse, Saturn aspecting the second house, as well as the Sun, in its tenth position, suggested that Sumeet’s knowledge of music—in his case, singing—would cause him great humiliation. And then I saw the Moon—the planet of the mind—in conjunction with Harshal in the seventh house, with Mars aspecting directly, as well as Saturn aspecting in its third position—a combination of stars specifying an unbalanced moment of decision which could be dangerous and murderous! But Jupiter in Cancer revealed Sumeet to be a good man at heart, with tremendous respect for his teacher. The Lord of his zodiac sign Libra—Venus—was in its own star sign, which meant that Sumeet was not a veteran bad man!

  “So I asked myself: If his intentions were good, what would be his moment of unbalanced decision which would goad him to commit a crime? Could it be connected with Raujibua’s death? And if yes, how could Sumeet be involved with it? Everyone, including Sumeet himself, claimed that he loved his Guruji to a point of self-effacement. If he loved his teacher so much, why in heaven’s name would he try to do away with the man? The motive eluded me, and for a while I was baffled. Until I realized that the motive in this whole affair was not hate, not jealousy, not money—but love! A vague idea of the whole situation began to form in my head. But I had absolutely no way of knowing whether I was on the right track. So I concocted a story about a cat being hit by a car to gauge the reactions of all three students. Each man’s response to the story revealed his level of emotional tolerance and his view on death. Sumeet predictably confirmed that he wouldn’t hesitate from ending the cat’s suffering. And there lay my answer. Sumeet, who loved his Guruji beyond measure, who had nursed his Guruji selflessly, had mercy-killed his Guruji. The motive was obvious—compassion, duty, and misplaced love. But how had he pulled it off? How could a person provoke a heart attack in another man? And the answer fell straight into my hands in the form of the Hassu Khan story. And then I suddenly remembered seeing a photocopy of the story on Sumeet’s table and I knew for certain he had done it! And how!

  “Once I listened to the CD, everything fell in place. While I was listening to the raag, a voice sang a taan. The music was electric, piercing my brain and mind like a shock of lightning. Goose bumps prickled all over my body. Within seconds, the other voices had resumed their regular singing, but the effect of that taan still held me captive. And finally, in a flash, I knew why Mrs. Dharkar had had her suspicions. She was aware that such a taan could have its ill effects. And she was right.

  “The CD with the Kadak Bijlee ki Taan had indeed killed Raujibua. But how could I prove that? Then I remembered the volume button on the CD player. If I could get Sumeet to rearrange the volume level, it would be enough proof for my theory. So I enlisted Kirit’s aid. I requested him to sit tight-lipped as I flung my accusations. He was shocked, but he cooperated brilliantly. Bishan’s confession of his guilt, followed by my accusation of Kirit, convinced Sumeet that all was over and that he could safely eliminate the only thing that might give him away. Since the room had been continuously locked since Raujibua’s death, he hadn’t had a chance to do so. Or maybe he never thought anyone would connect the CD with the heart attack, so he hadn’t seen the urgency to return the level to normal. Anyway, as justice would have it, we were there to witness him do so!”

  “Fantastic!” Mohnish exclaimed. “But had Mrs. Dharkar suspected this?”

  “I think she suspected that it had something to do with the jealousies running amongst the students. And her husband’s dying wish being realised must have troubled her as being too much of a coincidence. It was also a little strange that it was while listening to the students’ CD that her husband had passed away. She had, of course, read the Hassu Khan story and wanted me to read the book. But she couldn’t find it. I found it later in Kirit’s room. But she couldn’t make open accusations, specially since she loved all her students and Sumeet had devoted his life to her husband. How could she even mention that any one of them had indulged in foul play? At the same time, she couldn’t ignore her doubts. She had to get her conscience cleared. And I’m glad she did. Killing, whether it is mercy or otherwise, is an unforgivable act!”

  “What a peculiar use of music,” Jatin remarked.

  Sonia nodded. “Music is beautiful, powerful, and magical. And, most important, it heals. This may be the first time that someone actually used it to kill.”

  “But, Boss, what about Vandana and Kirit? What’s going to happen to those two now?”

  “I think that’s for Mrs. Dharkar to decide. I would be willing to bet she won’t mind having a son-in-law she loves like a son.”

  “And Bishan?”

  “He and Kirit will together carry on Raujibua’s name in the world. I believe that they are resolving all their differences.”

  “And what about Sumeet? What’s going to happen to him?”

  “That’s for Inspector Divekar to decide. It’s a fact that he hasn’t actually been caught in the act of murdering Raujibua and the proof against him is flimsy. But he confessed to us and now it’s up to the police to make a case against him. One thing is for sure, Sumeet will never represent Gwalior Gharana ever again! That in itself is, I believe, his life sentence! The stigma, the humiliation, and a life without his beloved music! I can’t imagine a worse punishment for him!”

  “So nothing has happened as Raujibua envisioned. Sumeet, his favourite student, will never represent him again,” Mohnish said.

  “Good! What a cold-hearted decision that was, deliberately ending his Guru’s life and justifying it with a good cause!” Jatin remarked. “I can’t imagine doing something like that to my Guru, Boss, however much I love you or care for you!”

  “Thank you, I’m most relieved to hear that!” Sonia raised her eyes heavenwards.

  “You can enjoy a peaceful night now.” Mohnish grinned.

  Sonia laughed. “Thanks to my loyal assistant!”

  8

  The Letters

  The rays of a weak December sun slanted in through the window. Wrapped in a warm Kashmiri red shawl, Sonia held her hands over the room heater in the outer office. Nidhi lay tucked on a chair, occasionally licking a paw. Jatin was busy at the computer.

  “What a cozy scene! Mind if I join you?” Without awaiting an invitation, Mohnish strode in and settled down beside the heater
.

  He wore a soft, guava-green sweater over black trousers. An unusual colour for a man, Sonia noticed, but it looked good on his tall, handsome frame.

  “What brings you here so early in the morning?” she asked.

  “The guarantee of a cup of chai on a very cold day!”

  Jatin looked up from the computer and grinned. “I heard you!”

  “And also to share with you a discovery I have made!” Mohnish added, and was pleased to see the quickened interest on Sonia’s face. She looked extremely appealing in the red shawl, her face flushed and rosy with the warmth of the heater.

  “Breaking news!” Her liquid brown eyes glinted.

  “Absolutely. Tell me, when did you first receive a threatening note?”

  Sonia frowned. “I think it was in May.”

  “And when did Devika see ‘the ghost’ for the first time?”

  “In May.”

  “Right. And when did the second note appear?”

  “July,” Jatin spoke up, shutting down his computer. “I remember Boss was to attend a wedding in Mumbai and that same day there was a report in the newspaper about the ghost being spotted around our office.”

  “I’m surprised at your wonderful memory!”

  “I’m not. I introduced Naina to Boss that day,” Jatin replied dolefully.

  “And the third note appeared around the end of October. Devika found it tucked into the nameplate!” Sonia exclaimed.

  “And I saw the ghost with my own eyes the night before!” Jatin declared.

  “See what I mean? The notes always seem to be linked with the appearance of your ghost!” Mohnish raised an eyebrow.

  “Of course! Why didn’t I make the connection?” Sonia seemed amazed.

  “Because, Boss, you never took the notes seriously enough to apply your mind categorically to them!” her assistant reprimanded as he handed out cups of chai.