by John Harker
So the name must be beginning with C, and ending with an A, he thought as he skimmed through the pages of the book that he had skipped earlier.
A missing member of the family, perhaps?
'There must be something here about this mysterious member of the Varma family.' Parosh said to himself as he beaded into the contents of the book.
Indeed, there was a lot to be revealed and the mystery had just begun. Parosh had got himself the key to the Varma family's holy grail itself. His pupils widened as he immersed himself into the contents of the book.
The game had just begun.
Chapter 32
The breeze that wafted in from the Arabian Sea had a mellifluous pain attached to it. It carried Pakhi's straightened long hair in a harmonic procession of a bridal palanquin. However, on her face, one could easily detect that restless curiosity of a sanctified journalist. As they walked up the path that led to Clifford Mansion, following the steps of Iyer, the only image that came into her mind was that of the gorgeous wife of Richard Baxter. There was definitely something about her that resonated a sense of familiarity into Pakhi's investigative mind. Meanwhile, Shiuli walked patiently with her aunt without uttering a word. The silence irritated Pakhi further. Finally she broke the silence.
'Mr. Iyer, what do you know about this woman, Lavanya Baxter?' she asked.
Iyer was a middle-aged man who was leaving his cardiac health to the mercy of obesity. As he walked up the path, he panted for breath. He gestured Pakhi to wait using his left hand without turning around. After finishing the final flight of ascent, he spoke,
'Mrs. Baxter was a Bengali widow whom Mr. Richard married to save her from a committing a ritualistic suicide.'
'Sati?'
'Yes. In her community at that time, a young widow was not allowed to live, let alone remarry, after the demise of the husband.' He said between short breaths.
He pulled out the mansion's key from his shirt's pocket and unlocked the front door. He opened the door and the three entered the mansion.
'So, the Englishman married this widow just like that?' Pakhi asked inquisitively. She eyed Shiuli who was following closely, inspecting the antiquities all around her in wonderment.
Iyer switched on his LED torchlight and spoke as he illuminated the way for the ladies, 'I do not know much about his personal life, but my grandfather told me that he had fallen in love at first sight. The woman was blessed with subliminally sharp facial features: dark brown eyes of the shape of a divine lotus and lips wide and thin that left men craving for just one touch. Her body so lustrously arousing that even women would fall in love with her,' he turned his head glancing at the gorgeous reporter and then pointed to another portrait on the wall,
'There you see another picture of the lady. Isn't she gorgeous? I have never seen anyone as beautiful as her ever in my life. I mean, if I had somebody like her, I would have never come to live in a place like this. The Englishman was a fool or maybe simply wanted to ooze off the woman's juice, just like his country did to our beloved India.'
Iyer's sentence was followed by a sudden shattering of glass upstairs. Pakhi grabbed Shiuli and stared up at the ceiling. Iyer pointed his torchlight around to check for any bats or mongooses.
'It is an old mansion; even the wind can break these windows.' Iyer declared with a confidence that masqueraded his suspicion and nervousness. He forced a smile and as he progressed towards the spiral staircase said, 'What was I saying? Oh yes, the woman. The woman only spoke Bengali and English. She never spoke with anyone else but her husband.'
Pakhi's curiousity was pumping up but Shiuli was getting irritated at the fat man's alleged description of the woman about whom she had heard from the ghost of the Englishman himself. When she did not like something, she would flush it down the drain and she wanted to do that right now. But then she saw something in the corner of the hall, right next to the staircase. The sight brought relief and Shuli put on a content expression on her face.
Meanwhile Iyer continued his story, 'They lived here for two days and on the third night, the two disappeared. Some believe that she ran away with the visitor after killing the Englishman.' and then there was a loud thud on the floor.
Something tripped Iyer and he fell down on his face. The impact broke the wooden step. A thick stream of blood oozed from his left nostril.
'Oh dear, are you alright?' Pakhi asked.
'Get away, it is a shining snake!' He shouted pointing towards the thing that slithered below.
Pakhi looked down and saw the end of what seemed like the tail of the snake, crawling under the step through a crack. She jumped in fear.
'Relax, those are fireflies!' Shiuli corrected calmly.
'That is a snake, and it tripped me. I felt it pulling my leg.' Iyer accused angrily.
'I think the visitor pulled your leg.' Shiuli spoke mysteriously mocking the fat man's prior warnings. She started laughing as Iyer made a desperate attempt at getting up on his own.
Pakhi gave Iyer a hand sympathetically and helped him get up. She hissed angrily, 'Mishti!' Pakhi scolded her niece, 'Do not make fun of Mr. Iyer. I do not believe in such things as ghosts, but of late I have been having weird experiences that is forcing me to give second thoughts to the subject of the paranormal.'
She thought about the story of the stranger's ghost who met that kid in the Ghittorni metro station and then the dark image of the visitor crept in.
'Besides, if it was not for Mr. Iyer, you would not have been found. Twice have you been saved by him.'
Shiuli chuckled, ' Oh come on! Nothing ever happened to me, and after all this I am pretty convinced that nothing would have ever happened at all even if you had not found me.'
'What do you mean?' Pakhi asked
'I am not sure if you guys are ready to digest this, but I know something that would change your perceptions forever,' she shot a glance at Iyer who was wiping off the blood from his nose and commented, 'At least, someone will have his notions changed, for the better.'
'Young lady, you know you have started acting like a lunatic.'
'If you had gone through what I went through last night, I am pretty sure you would be acting the same way.' the young girl said.
'Oh dear, I understand.'
'No, you do not. You think that I am probably in a state of shock, because you saw me gazing into the horizon while you were listening to a discolored version of a story from this fat man,' Shiuli accusingly stared at Iyer and continued, 'while I was pondering over what had truly happened here. I could see it, in my mind and I was connecting the dots.'
Pakhi was getting worried at her niece's condition and Iyer was embarrassed. Shiuli did not like the dejected look on Pakhi's face. She took an ascending step towards her aunt and said in a cementing tone, 'Pishi, can I trust you to trust me?'
Pakhi nodded in a confused state of mind. She wondered where all this was leading.
'Then I want you to follow me quietly. Do not be afraid, just trust me.' she paused, inhaled and spelled, 'We need your help.' She turned and started moving downstairs.
The Delhi-based journalist looked at the South Indian caretaker blankly. Something hit her and she retorted, 'Wait a minute, you said we? What do you mean by we need my help?'
However, by this time, Shiuli had already disappeared from the scene, Pakhi and Iyer had no other option but to follow her, – little out of curiosity and more out of anxiety.
Chapter 33
The young girl restlessly marched up and down the hall inspecting the tiled floor.
'It’s got to be here somewhere.' Shiuli blasted out.
'What is it? What are you looking for?' Pakhi asked noting the desperation in the girl's tone.
'There is a secret passage in this hall. I am looking for that.' Shiuli revealed without looking at either her aunt or the pokerfaced Iyer.
'This house has many back doors, but none of it is in this hall.' Iyer added confidently.
'Mr. Iyer, I know you know more abo
ut this mansion than I do, but what you know is not the truth.' Shiuli guarded her stance, 'Could you guys give me a moment alone.' She requested.
Pakhi and Iyer turned around and looked at other things in the hall room. Iyer started wiping away the cobwebs with his hands.
She tried hard to remember the ghost's story. She thought hard.
What was Mr. Clifford doing right before he heard the noise from the cellar?
He was reading a book.
When t was it?
It was at night.
She recreated the image visually.
Where was he reading it?
Iyer on the other hand had moved to the eastern side of the hall and dusted the table lying in the corner. He sat on the table and looked at Shiuli blankly like John Candy from an MGM flick.
'That's it!' Shiuli exclaimed as she looked sharply at the fat man who was shocked at the girl's exclamatory remark.
The staircase commenced beneath the wooden floor that was just half a dozen steps to the right of my reading table.
Shiuli ran towards the table, 'Iyer!'
Iyer jumped off the table, scared of the girl's athletics he pleaded, 'Come on! I did not do anything this time. I was just sitting on this really old table.'
'Exactly!' She said with a wide smile that lit up her angelic face.
She stepped to the right side of the table and measured six strides. She kneeled down at the spot. The tile had a bolt and a handle. She carefully unbolted it and pulled the wooden tile with the handle. Iyer and Pakhi looked on in wonder. Shiuli had opened the door to the cellar.
A secret passage.
Chapter 34
Parosh let the beads of sweat that lined up on his forehead drop to the floor. It was very humid even though it was winter, but that was the climate of Kochi. Not once did he take his eyes off the book until he finished every page written in it. Even the blank ones were examined closely. He had marked one page and had dog-eared it so that he could revise it again after finishing the journal.
He closed the journal and then pinned his index finger inside and felt the decked pages between the covers for an irregular gap created by the folding of the page. He opened it and read the description on the page again:
Jagannatha Varma II
Jagannatha Varma was the son of Chandrasena Varma, who was the last monarch of the dynasty. Jagannatha Varma II, named after his great grandfather, was born in the year 1935, had studied in London, Madras and Delhi. He was a liberal man who was a revolutionary during his college days. He rejected his family wealth in the year 1961 as he felt it was against his principles.
The next two paragraphs were scribbled over by thick lines of black ink paint, similar to the scribbling on the penultimate page containing the family tree. The succeeding pages were torn off from the book by someone as he could see bits of paper sticking to the binding thread on the inner margin. Someone had deliberately torn off the pages.
He placed the book back on the shelf and browsed for more of such kind. The shelf got dustier as he went inwards. He navigated to the E section on the seventh shelf. It contained old files, most of them were bitten to dust, while those that remained hardly held themselves together. Parosh feared that that the pages might crumble upon touching them. He pulled out a set of files from the section cautiously, without letting the bottom touch the edge of the dusty wooden rack.
Mrityunjaya Chandrasena JagannathaJagannatha Varma II
The file contained all medical and academic reports adhering to MC Jagannatha Varma. The academic reports ranged from excellent to outstanding. Totally impressed by his subject's scholarly background, he started out with the medical section. Most of the reports were from pediatricians, few from pathology labs and couple more from an orthodontist. It seemed that he had fractured his leg . The accident was severe and the treatment complex.
However, this was followed by reports from a psychiatrist. At first, Parosh convinced himself to the possibility that little Jagannatha, or Jagan as they called him, must have gone into trauma after the accident. But the reports kept reappearing, and the frequency only increased. There were, in total, sixteen reports from psychiatrist from 1944 till 1957.
Why did Jagannatha Varma need constant visits to a psychiatrist as a teenager? Parosh kept asking himself. He started reading the first report which was dated the seventeenth of December, Nineteen Forty Four.
And then his phone rang.
-
Chapter 35
Shiuli descended down the staircase which led her to the cellar as mentioned by the ghost of Richard Baxter. There was a pungent smell in the air which pressed into her lungs through her nostrils. She almost fainted. Pakhi and Iyer also went through similar sensory feelings.
The steps were coated with dust and termite waste and numerous spider webs made flight over them. Every time Shiuli placed her foot on the step, she would break an entire intricately woven network of spider webs, Pakhi and Iyer followed protocol. Iyer was the last one to enter and he was about to close the entrance tile.
'No, don't! Leave it open, please.' Shiuli commanded.
Iyer turned forth, lit his torchlight and started descending the staircase with Pakhi. A tiny speck of yellow light entered through the entrance. Nobody noticed the glow under the LED lights’ bright illumination.
Shiuli reached the second last step when she felt as if she had stepped on something. She looked down. Iyer threw light on the step and she picked up something and examined it.
'Rusted metal and glass attached to it.' Shiuli said and remembered what Richard Baxter had used to see in the dark. She passed it to her aunt.
'It seems like a broken piece from a lantern.' Pakhi deduced.
'Mr. Clifford's lantern.' Shiuli clarified and stepped on the floor, 'Mr. Iyer, can you please give me the torchlight. I need to show you something.'
Iyer threw the electronic torch towards the young girl who caught it reflexively.
She pointed the torch right below and requested them, 'I want you to come here and look at this, calmly.'
Pakhi could see the wall that was carbon black in front of her. She stepped down carefully and stood next to Shiuli. She looked down at the floor and gave out a whispering shriek in horror. Iyer came in quickly and upon seeing the object on the floor he jumped up a step,
'Ayyo! Amma!'
'Shhh...' Shiuli hissed. She went on her left knee and picked up the horrifying object from the degraded floor and revealed proudly, 'This, my dear Pishi, is the skull of Mr Richard Clifford Baxter, who was burned to death in this cellar.'
Pakhi's emotions sprang up from different quarters. She was not sure if she was enraged or horrified. She sprouted out words like drops of water from a sprinkler
'How… did you know… that… this was… here?'
'I told you, I know a lot more than any of you.' Shiuli chuckled.
'You are holding a dead man's skull and you are not even scared.'
'That is because the skull is lifeless and its owner is right behind Mr. Iyer.'
Iyer burst into a scream and sprinted up, but the trapdoor fell back on the floor and bolted itself from outside. Iyer punched on it desperately with both hands.
'Ayyayo, please let us out, I do not want to die. Venkateswara Kaapaathane!' He cried.
'Shiuli, p... p... please tell me what is going on and that everything is going to be alright.' Pakhi pleaded.
'Pishi, trust me, we are fine. But everything is not alright, at least, not for Mr. Clifford. I mean Mr Clifford, the ghost.' She rectified.
'Why would that be, I wonder?' she said between shivers, 'Is he still here, because I cannot see him.'
'No, he went upstairs. Pishi, what I am going to tell you is the true story as heard from the Englishman himself. I want you to listen carefully because we need your help.'
'What kind of help?' Pakhi asked.
'Please, get us out of here!' Iyer yelled with teary eyes.
'Mr. Clifford bolted it from above so that he
does not get out of here and bring all those townsfolk here. It will not serve our purpose. Could you please ask him to calm down.' Shiuli requested her aunt.
'I am having a hard time keeping calm myself, I don't think I can afford to calm him down. Please tell me what help do you need from me?'
'Well, Mr. Clifford's ghost told me its story, right from the beginning till the end. But remember, you once told me that only those people become ghosts who could not fulfill their purpose at the time of death?'
Pakhi nodded, unable to answer her out of fear.
'We must find that purpose in order to set him free.' Shiuli concluded.
There was doubt in Pakhi's face and Shiuli tried to reassure her.
'Trust me, Mr. Clifford is a very nice man... err... ghost. In fact, he is the one who saved me yesterday from those thieves. He scared them off with his magical fireflies.'
'Magical what?' Pakhi interupted.
'I will tell you everything, but we must do something about this Iyer. He will surely bring people and wreck all the remaining chances of getting Mr. Clifford to heaven.'
'Heaven?' Pakhi questioned.
'Yes, the place where good souls go after death. Like mom said.'
'Wonderful!' Pakhi replied trying to convince her atheistic mind that she was probably too high to hear anything that did not lack common sense.
