X: The Hunt Begins

by Unknown

  There it was again. Even Junaid seemed to be telling him to take a break. Aditya smiled and rose to his feet. “There might be something in that. I've let you get on with your work., and I'll let you know about this whole Kambli business.”

  As Aditya made his way back to his apartment, he reflected on what he had achieved that morning. Prescious little, it seemed. A family trying to avoid dengue. A tailor trying to avoid the police, and well wishers trying to help him avoid a mental breakdown.

  Now it was Aditya's turn to sigh. Maybe they were all right. Maybe he had developed tunnel vision when it came to strange happenings. Too much focus in one direction often ended in a nervous collapse. Maybe he really did need to take a step back from the world of criminal investigation...

  He opened the door of Payal's apartment. Virat and Payal looked up at him, a hint of wariness on their faces. For a moment he considered throwing a fake tantrum, but decided against it. “So, if my mind isn't completely gone yet, I seem to remember there's a new dish being prepared tonight.”

  Virat and Payal relaxed visibly. “It's almost ready.” Payal declared, moving towards the kitchen. “Get yourself to the table and we'll have an early dinner.”

  “You okay?” Virat asked, watching him closely.

  “I think so.” Aditya shrugged. “Maybe the psychologist needs to see a psychiatrist.”

  Virat laughed. “That wouldn't be a bad idea. You've often said everyone should see a therapist once in a while. Might want to take your own advice.”

  “Hope you're both hungry.” Payal said, bringing the bowl of palak paneer to the table.

  “Oh, man, I love this dish.” Virat said happily. “I can't believe you remembered.”

  “Remembered what?” Aditya asked.

  “Payal's mother used to make this for us in high school.” Virat said. He bent over the dish and inhaped deeply. “Oh man, that takes me back. Remember the first time you made this? It was during the world cup.”

  “Yes, that was an exciting match.” Payal agreed with a grin.

  “I can remember it like it was yesterday. We'd gone to Sukhi's house. Jayant was there, so was Monica and Pallavi. Sukhi made a bet of two hundred on India winning.”

  “And he never paid up after he lost.” Payal giggled.

  Aditya was watching with a smile as the other two laughed and reminiscised. But slowly, his expression changed. His mind begin to race as he got up from from the table and began to walk up and down the length of the room.

  “What's wrong?” Payal asked, watching him with surprise. Aditya began to talk in fast, disjointed bursts, his eyes fixed unseeingly before him as he paced.

  “That's a very interesting thing that just happened, don't you think? You made a dish from your school days, and one whiff of it was all it took to put Virat on a nostalgia trip, down to the most minute details about a certain day. That bit about your school friends. And whatshisname losing the bet. And then you all laughed. And there was a match and there was food. That's really all very interesting, and it clears up so many little things that have been bothering me. Incidentally, do you know anyone in the colony who's had their house sprayed for dengue recently?”

  “What?” Payal stared at him. “No. There's no need for that for at least a couple of months till the rains start.”

  “No.” Aditya muttered, resuming his pacing. “No. Of course there isn't.”

  Payal glanced at Virat as Aditya continued talking incoherently to himself. “I'm guessing this his buddhijeevi mode?”

  “The walking part is new.” Virat watched Aditya with some alarm as he muttered and paced, running a hand through his hair. In that moment he did seem slightly deranged.

  “Got it.” Aditya declared at last, stopping suddenly in front of the table. “I understand now. This was a tricky one. But come on, we're running against the clock, and we need to make our move quickly or it'll be gone.”

  “What'll be gone?” Virat asked as he rose as well.

  “You'll see.” Aditya was striding towards the key rack. “We need to get to house 289. Oh, and also,” He turned to glance over his shoulder. “You'll need your gun, Virat.”

  * * *

  Mrs. Kambli opened the door to find Aditya, Virat and Payal standing outside.

  “Good evening.” Aditya said brightly. “”I know you probably had enough of us last night, but we have some news to share. Can we come in?”

  The woman seemed to hesitate. “I don''t know. Could you come tomorrow in the morning? My husband might not-”

  “I should let you know we're here in an official capacity tonight.”Aditya interrupted her. His voice was gentle, but firm. “If you cooperate, you'll be safe. If you don't, you might be facing jailtime.” The woman's eyes widened in fear. She stood to one side, and the three trooped in silently.

  They entered the living room to find Mr. Kambli at the couch near the glass table. He looked amazed to see them.

  “Where's little Aarush?” Aditya asked. “Still prepping for his exam? Good, he should stay in his room for the moment. Why don't the rest of you sit around the table? Mrs. Kambli can sit next to her husband, and Virat and payal on the chairs. Everyone comfortable? Let's start, then.”

  “Look here.” Mr. Kambli seemed to have gotten over his amazement as he rose to his feet. “What do you think you're doing? Have you gone mad? How dare you barge into my house like this?”

  “I plan to do a lot more before the night is out.” Aditya said grimly. “And you'll want to sit down for what I say next.”

  “Why should I listen to you?” Mr. Kambli demanded heatedly.

  Aditya's reply was two words long. “Shweta Tiwari.”

  Mr. Kambli turned pale. Aditya's face had lost all it's friendliness from the night before. His eyes were deadly serious as he motioned to the couch, and Mr. Kambli sank back into it without a word. Aditya began to speak in a slow, measured manner, his voice compelling the four to listen with rapt attention.

  “You know, when we talk about our senses, we tend to forget there's five of them. Smell is often overlooked, but it's a very powerful sense, especially where memory is concerned. The moment we remember a smell from our past, we get a host of memories from that time period.

  “Now, let's examine the facts of the case dispassionately. First Junaid comes to us and tells us there's been a murder in house no 289.” The husband and wife started, but Aditya ignored them as he continued to address his two friends. “Virat and I go there to check on his hunch. Virat finds nothing out of the ordinary at the scene. But on the way back, I tell him there's been a murder at house no 289. Does anyone understand what happened?” Only blank faces met his gaze.

  “I wasn't speaking on my own, I was just repeating Junaid's line. Word for word what he'd told me. That means, in that rooom, that normal, commonplace room, I had seen something that had brought Junaid's warning to my mind.”

  “But what had I seen? I'm rather more familiar with reading a crime scene that Junaid, and in the few minutes that we'd been there I had picked up on a few things. The father was nervous. The mother and son were ill at ease. And the cupboard with the inbuilt lock had been padlocked from the outside.”

  “There was nothing criminal about these facts by themselves, but combined with Junaid's statement and Mr. Kambli's fear when he heard we were with the police, my mind unconscously made the connection to danger, and I found myself repeating a warning about the house that I'd heard earlier.”

  “That settles the matter of my 'hunch'. But now we come to the orignal, and most important 'hunch', the one that started this investigation. Why did Junaid feel something criminal had occurred at house 289? What had he seen that had unsettled him so?”

  “Here's where a bit of personal history would be helpful. Before becoming a tailor, Junaid used to work for a police mortuary. He was very close to the man in charge, Dr. Majumdar, and often gave a hand with the disposal of the corpses brought in from crime scenes.”

  “There Junaid had
learnt about embalming fluids, a solution containing formaldehyde which is applied to dead bodies to keep them from rotting and smelling. It has a distinctive odor that takes a few hours to dissipate, and Junaid had used it often enough while working with Dr. Majumdar. It's a smell that his mind forever afterwards associated with the morturum, and by extension, with murder.”

  Aditya gazed around expectantly at the group.

  “That piece of information helps answer the question that has been leading us astray all through this investigation. Because the truth of the matter is, Junaid hadn't seen anything. Nor had he heard anything. No, Junaid had smelled something, something that caused him to come to me with his hunch that night. It was a very faint smell, cloaked by the pungent odor of insecticide, yet just strong enough to register at a subconscious level. What aroused Junaid's suspicion was the smell of formaldehyde, and a nervous man who seemed to be hiding something. So now I ask you, Mr. Kambli,” Aditya turned an accusing finger on the man sitting pale and stunned. “Why did you feel the need to padlock the cupboard?”

  There was silence as the attention shifted to Kambli, sitting stuttering on the sofa. “Absurd. What is this nonsense? Pack of lies...”

  “You mean you didn't murder your secretary Shweta Tiwari yesterday in this very room, while your wife and son were attending the school function? And you didn't hide her body in the cupboard? You didn't cover the body in formaldehyde to keep it from decomposing? You didn't spray insecticide in your house to cover the smell of formaldehyde? You didn't forbid your son from playing with his toy car and keep him in his room so he wouldn't accidently go near the cupboard? And you didn't padlock the cupboard so your wife wouldn't be able to open it?”

  The man was still spluttering and stammering, as his eyes darted desperately from Virat to his wife to Aditya.

  “Virat, break the cupboard lock.” Aditya said quietly.

  Virat rose and walked over to the cupboard, drawing out his gun and cocking it.

  “Here, listen.” Mr. Kambli shouted, springing to his feet. “I've had enough of this nonsense. I don't know whether he's mad or possesed, but I've heard enough of his ravings. You're trespassing on my personal property, Inspector. I'll report you for this, and I swear I'll make sure you get kicked off the police if you don't leave at once. At once, I tell you!”

  He glared at Virat, who turned to look at Aditya.

  “Waiting for a warrant will take too long.” Aditya said quietly. “The cupboard will be gone in an hour. It's now or never.”

  Virat stared at him, the gun held loose in his hand. “If you're wrong, there'll be hell to pay.” He turned, took aim, and fired at the padlock.

  The noise of the shot exploded in their ears, reverberating off the windowpanes and cutting through the calm of Hakikat Nagar. Kambli's wife screamed and her hand flew to her mouth. Payal winced but did not look away. Kambli looked like a man stuck in a nightmare.

  Virat took hold of the shattered padlock and tossed it aside. Another shot rang out, and the inbuilt lock on the cupboard shattered. Noises had started coming from adjoining houses. There were shouts and screams and Aarush began knocking on his bedroom door, calling for his parents.

  The handle of the cupboard turned, and Virat swung open it's door. Something large and heavy tumbled out and fell to the ground. This time Payal screamed along with Kambli's wife.

  The body of a young woman lay on the ground, her skin waxy and pale, her blank eyes staring upwards into nothingness.

  * * *

  The next afternoon Aditya made his way to Junaid's tailor shop. He had spent the morning wrapping up the Kambli case at the police station, and saying 'I told you so.' to Virat, Payal and Shahid at intervals. He found Junaid waiting for him at the shop.

  “Turns out you were right.” Aditya greeted him. “I'm sure you've heard about the incident in house 289.”

  “Everyone has heard, bhaiyaji.” Junaid ushered him towards a stool. “And I'm glad they caught the man. So he was having an affair?”

  “Yes, for sveral months.” Aditya said, taking a seat on the stool. “With his secretary. Than the girl fell in love with him, and started pressuring him to leave his family. He told her he would run away with her, and convinced her to come to his house so they could leave for the airport together. Once she arrived, he gave her a drink laced with cyanide. Then he treated her body with formaldehyde and stuffed it in the cupboard.”

  “I see.” Junaid stared at the ground. ”What I don't understand is, why was he keeping the body in the cuboard at all?”

  “It was only meant to stay in the house for a day. He'd donated the cupboard to the charity drive his company had sponsored. A truck was going to come by last night and transport it to an off city location where dozens of similar cupboards are stored. It could have been weeks before anyone discovered the body, and even then they couldn't have traced it back to him. The police would never have caught Kambli if you hadn't alerted us.”

  ”I'm glad I was able to help.” Junaid sighed and shook his head. “But it's very sad. The mother and son are leaving the colony. I heard the boy crying while they were packing their things.”

  “Yeah, it's going to be rough on them for a while. I recommended a therapist to his mother who might be able to help them both deal with the trauma of this incident.” Aditya paused, and glanced at the old man. “I wanted to ask, when you knew him before, did Kambli ever seem like the type who could commit murder someday?” It was a point he was curious about. He met murderers after they committed the crime, and had to rely on anecdotes to understand their past. This was the first murderer he had known before the crime.

  But Junaid shook his head. “He was always a kind man.” He said quietly. “Very loving towards his family. He just loved himself more.”

  Chapter 9 : The Great Showman

  “So, all of it?” Aditya asked skeptically.

  “Absolutely.” Virat held his hands half a foot apart before his chest. “It was at least this big. And almost as round. He ate it in less than ten bites. His eyes were watering the whole time. He looked like he was going to choke, and he was fighting to breathe. But he still ate the whole thing. Probably used the money he won from the bet to get his stomach pumped.”

  There was an urgent knocking on the door. Then the knocking turned to hammering, and finally Payal's voice shouted, “For god's sake, open up!”

  “I'm guessing either she's being pursued by a gang, or the toilet's broken in her apartment.” Aditya commented as he leaned back in his beanbag chair.

  Virat opened the door, and Payal burst in, her eyes shining with excitement. “Finally! You won't believe what happened today. Sit down, both of you. I'm going to tell you something that's going to blow your mind!”

  Aditya and Virat sat down on the couch, watching Payal in bemused silence as she took a deep swig of water from the jug.

  “I ran all the way up the stairs.” She explained, panting heavily as she laid down the jug.

  “We live on the second floor.” Aditya murmured.

  “Don't interrupt.” Payal raised a hand drammatically. “I didn't want to tell you over the phone. This morning I was sitting at my desk going over an article when I got a phone call from a guy named Sumit Khurana. He told me he's the personal scretary of- Want to guess? No, wait, I'll just tell you. He said he's the personal secretary of Karan Kapoor!” She gazed excitedly from Aditya to Virat.

  “Wait, The Karan Kapoor? The film director?” Virat asked, and Payal nodded vigorously. “What did he want?”

  “This is the part you won't believe.” Payal sat down in the chair opposite Virat. “He told me Mr. Kapoor has been reading about your work, espeically the Selfie Killer case and the Bhandipur murders. He said Mr. Kapoor's a fan of your work. He said he wants to meet you two to discuss making a film about your cases!”