by RV Raman
‘And the back door? Was that left unlocked too?’
‘Not really. Murugan would have locked it with his key before retiring to the staff quarters. Thereafter, it would not be possible to open the door from the outside without a key. But from the inside, you could turn the knob and open it.’
‘How was it when you woke up this morning?’
‘As usual. The lock had been clicked into place. I opened the door by turning the knob.’
‘One final question, Sebastian. Where is the wheelchair kept at night?’
‘Next to the back door at the very end of the gallery. At the corner, where the rear wall meets the wall of Mr. Fernandez’s room. You will find a set of electrical outlets there for charging the wheelchair batteries at night.’
The chapel door flew open and a voice thundered through it.
‘What’s going on here?’ it demanded. ‘Sebastian! Manu! Are you here?’
Athreya spun around and gasped. Bhaskar was standing on his feet, unaided! Except for a walking stick, he had no support. As Athreya watched, the man he had thought was a cripple walked in, rocking from side to side on unsteady legs, and stood glowering at the three men.
Chapter 9
As soon as Bhaskar was apprised of the situation, he took charge. Standing with a pale and drawn face, taking the support of his walking stick with one hand and holding the wall with the other, he barked out orders. Sebastian was dispatched with instructions to say nothing to anyone and to fetch a lock to secure the chapel. Nobody, Bhaskar declared, would enter the chapel, except on legitimate investigative business. He would permit no morbid ogling at the crime scene or the dead man.
Simultaneously, he sent Manu to fetch a spare wheelchair. He himself stepped out of the chapel after peering at Phillip from across the length of the building.
‘Everyone is a suspect now,’ he said to Athreya once Sebastian and Manu left. ‘Including me. I haven’t been inside the chapel for days, and don’t want to enter now and leave telltale signs of my being inside. The key will be in your custody, Mr. Athreya, and yours alone. Any spare keys the lock will also be given to you.’
‘Why do you rule me out as a suspect?’ Athreya asked mildly. ‘After all, I have no corroborated alibi for last night, and I was the one who discovered the body. I had a full fifteen minutes alone inside before Manu and Sebastian came.’
‘Be that as it may, you are the only outsider. You didn’t know Phillip or me when you came here. You are the least likely to have a motive, even if you had the opportunity.’
‘What motive do the others have to kill Phillip?’ Athreya countered.
‘I admit that I don’t know. But I can’t overlook the fact that Phillip was sitting in my wheelchair. Our builds are similar, and he too has—had—a greying head and beard.
‘But all that is beside the point. I am handing over charge to you, as far as the investigation is concerned. At least till the police arrive. The rest of us, bar none, will do as you say.’
‘Okay. For now, let’s not tell anyone about the murder. I want to see their reactions when they hear it for the first time.’
‘Good idea.’
Bhaskar sighed as Manu returned with another wheelchair, a simple, non-motorized one. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll return to my room. I don’t think I can stay on my feet for much longer.’ He slowly lowered himself into the wheelchair as Manu held it in place. He looked up at Athreya with a faint smile. ‘By the way, I noticed your surprise when I came in. Seeing me in a wheelchair, people assume I can’t walk. I walk four times a day, fifteen minutes each time. The legs need some exercise if they are not to atrophy.’
‘Manu,’ Athreya said as Manu began to wheel Bhaskar away. ‘Can I borrow your bicycle?’
‘Certainly. I’ll have Gopal—one of the boys—bring it to you.’
By then, Sebastian had returned with a lock. Athreya locked the chapel and pocketed the key. Then, with Sebastian in tow, he made a quick circuit covering Sunset Deck, the annex, the inner lawn and the rose garden. They found nothing out of place.
‘If you’ll excuse me,’ Sebastian said, ‘I need to call the police, and see how I can bring at least the inspector here.’
‘What about the landslide?’
‘We have a cross-country motorcycle for just such situations. I will have to find a way around the landslide. I can bring one person back with me.’
‘You may need the police doctor as well.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
As Sebastian hurried away, Dora appeared through one of the drawing room’s French windows. Her puzzled look followed Sebastian, who had restricted his greeting to a curt ‘good morning’, without slowing down or meeting her eyes.
‘What happened?’ she asked Athreya. ‘Bhuvana told me that the staff had been locked in. And now Sebastian is uncharacteristically unsociable.’
‘Your room is on the first floor, right?’ Athreya asked. ‘Did you just come down?’
‘I came down about fifteen minutes ago. And when I came down, I found Bhuvana nervy and unforthcoming.’
‘When did you retire last night?’
‘Around 12:30 or so. I glanced at my watch when I entered the mansion. It was 12:27 a.m.’
‘Did Manu come in with you?’
‘No. He said he wanted to take a walk and unwind before going to bed.’ She peered shrewdly at Athreya. ‘Why all these questions? Something has happened, hasn’t it? What?’
‘Murder.’
Athreya watched her face as he uttered the word. For a moment, her puzzlement deepened. A moment later, shock hit her. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened mutely.
‘Who?’ she croaked.
Athreya was ready with his response, and had pulled out his mobile phone. He showed her the picture of the dead man in the wheelchair.
‘Uncle!’ she gasped. ‘No! Tell me it isn’t true!’ Tears flooded her eyes.
‘Who do you think it is?’ Athreya asked.
‘It looks like Uncle. It’s his wheelchair. The hair and the beard look like his. Tell me it isn’t him!’
‘It isn’t, Dora.’
She gave him a piercing stare.
‘You wouldn’t be playing with me, would you, Mr. Athreya? That would be cruel.’
‘I’m sorry, but I had to see your reaction. No, it isn’t Mr. Fernandez. Take another look. Who do you think it is?’
Dora looked at the picture again and zoomed in with her fingers.
‘Phillip?’ she gasped. ‘Is it Mr. Phillip?’ Athreya nodded.
‘Where?’
‘In the chapel.’
Dora groaned and buried her face in her hands.
‘I wonder when it happened,’ she said through her fingers. ‘I saw Mr. Varadan and him chatting in the drawing room after dinner. Most of us had gone out to the garden. On my way back to the mansion, I ran into Mr. Varadan on the walkway. Mr. Phillip seemed to have left too, because no one was in the drawing room when I got back.’
‘What were you doing in the garden?’
‘Talking to Manu for almost an hour about how Uncle is planning to help me with my little fashion business. I had some issues with Uncle’s approach, and was discussing it with Manu to see if we could convince Uncle to do it differently.’
Here she was, speaking openly about a conversation that could potentially pin a motive on her. She couldn’t know that he had overheard a part of the conversation. Yet, she was being forthright. He gazed at her silently for a moment. Her eyes were wide and innocent, and her face bore a frank expression. Either she had nothing to hide, or she was an excellent actress.
‘Okay,’ he said aloud. ‘Is anyone else up?’
Dora shook her head. ‘Didn’t see anyone, except Bhuvana.’
‘I want you to keep what I told you under your hat. Don’t tell anyone that there has been a murder. I need to see people’s first reactions to the news.’
‘I don’t envy you, Mr. Athreya. You are going to hurt people.’
‘I know. I’ve learned to live with the guilt. Nice guys seldom solve crimes. Now, I need to run.’
Athreya walked away briskly. A moment later Dora came trotting after him.
‘Can I come with you?’ she asked. ‘Gopal has got Manu’s bicycle ready for you. I have mine.’
Athreya stopped and considered her request. On the one hand, it was not good practice to let a potential suspect join the investigation. On the other, her presence might help in the next task.
‘Okay,’ he replied. ‘Join me this time. But if I say no in the future, you must respect it.’
‘Certainly.’
‘And no saying anything to anybody.’
‘Of course.’
‘Including Manu or your uncle. And Richie.’
For a moment, fear flashed in her eyes. But she quickly nodded and led the way to the bicycles.
* * *
Ten minutes later, clad in a zipped-up jacket he had fetched from his room, Athreya was at the gate of the Misty Valley Resort with Dora. Recognizing her, the guard at the gate threw them a salute and grinned, showing crooked, discoloured teeth. This is why Athreya had brought Dora along. She greeted the guard warmly and indulged in some small talk.
‘Were you on duty last night?’ she asked in Tamil.
‘Yes, madam,’ said the guard, nodding animatedly. ‘My duty is from eight to eight.’
‘Then you are the right man.’ Dora smiled at him in her friendly manner.
‘For what, madam?’
‘Somebody from here came looking for this gentleman last night,’ she lied, gesturing to Athreya. ‘But he didn’t leave his name. We wanted to know who it was. We think it may have been one of your guests.’
‘We only have two guests now, madam. One is Michelle Madam’s husband, Murthy Sir. The other is a younger man. I don’t know his name.’
‘Only two guests?’
‘Manager Sir said that some more guests were expected yesterday, but couldn’t come because of the landslide.’
‘That’s a pity. Did Murthy or the other guest go out of the resort compound last night?’
‘Yes, madam. Murthy Sir went towards your mansion. But all of you there know him. You would have recognized him.’
‘The person who talked to him was a new employee,’ Dora lied again. ‘He may not have recognized him. Besides, it was very foggy last night, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, madam. I couldn’t see five steps in front of me. It was scary! We decided to keep the gates, closed after 10 p.m.’
‘After Murthy went to the mansion?’
‘No, no. He went at about 11 p.m. He went out through this gate only.’
‘And when did he return?’
‘I don’t know the exact time…’
‘You don’t know?’ Dora repeated. ‘You were at the gate, weren’t you?’ She grinned conspiratorially. ‘Or did you fall asleep?’
‘No, madam. I didn’t sleep. But he didn’t return through the gate.’
‘Is there another way? I thought the compound was fenced.’
‘There is a small gate there.’ The guard pointed vaguely towards the left. ‘It is kept latched from the inside, but if you know how to do it, you can unlatch it from the outside too.’
‘How do you know somebody opened it from the outside? You said you couldn’t see five paces in the fog.’
‘But sounds carry well in the mist, madam. I heard the gate open. I went quietly, and saw a man enter. When he reached the lights of the main building, I saw that it was Murthy Sir.’
‘What time was it?’
‘Somewhere between 1:30 and 2:00 a.m., I think. I can’t be sure. I didn’t look at the clock until later.’
‘Can you show us the gate?’
‘Of course.’
Two minutes later, they were at a small wooden gate built into the resort’s fence between two wooden pillars. It was hinged to one of the pillars and latched to the other. The guard unfastened the latch and opened it.
‘See?’ he said as the latch made a flat noise and the hinges creaked. ‘You can hear it from the main gate.’
He repeated his action a couple of times, demonstrating that the gate was always noisy. Athreya asked the guard to step back. He held the top bar of the gate with one hand and lifted it an inch or two. Having done that, he slowly opened the latch without letting it fall. When he had fully unlatched the gate, he gently let the latch down, a millimetre at a time. Still exerting an upward force on the top bar, he slowly pushed the gate open, moving it an inch at a time. When it was half open, he let the gate down gently. The gate had made no noise at all.
‘Sir is very smart!’ The guard grinned.
On returning to the main gate, Dora thanked the guard and turned to Athreya, her face tight and pale. She hadn’t missed the significance of Michelle’s husband having been out of the resort the night of the murder.
‘You go inside and speak to the staff about the other guest,’ Athreya said. He didn’t want Dora with him for the next activity he had in mind. ‘I’ll have a look around and come back here in fifteen minutes.’
Athreya mounted the cycle and pedalled towards the two identical cottages across the mud road from the resort gate. The name boards at the gate of the cottages showed the one to the right to be Phillip’s and the other one as Ganesh’s. He locked the cycle and entered Phillip’s cottage through the right-side gate.
The front of the building comprised a covered veranda that was about three yards wide. Bisecting the veranda into two was the front door. It was bolted from the outside, and a midsize padlock hung from it. The four windows that pierced the front wall of the cottage were closed and curtained from the inside.
After studying it for a moment, Athreya went around the cottage. All the windows were shut and curtained. The back door was also shut, and seemed to have been locked from the inside. Once he had completed a full round, he mounted the steps of the veranda and approached the front door.
From his jacket, he pulled out a flat leather pouch and opened it. In it were a set of twenty-four pieces of metal with flat handles and thin, elongated protrusions with differently shaped and sized tips. Along with it were several L-shaped pieces of different sizes.
Lock picks.
Athreya selected a lock pick and an L-shaped piece of metal and got to work on the padlock. Less than a minute later, the door opened. Athreya pocketed his tools and entered the cottage, quietly closing the door behind him. From another pocket, he pulled out a small torch that cast a highly focused beam.
No sooner had he closed the door than he noticed a wet smear on the floor, a few feet from the front door. He lowered himself on to his haunches and studied it. He could make out a part of a footprint. He touched it with his finger. It was still wet. Someone had been here no more than six hours ago. With a small camera, he photographed it. A couple of feet further into the cottage was another wet smear, which he also photographed.
He stood up and looked around the sparsely furnished hall, which clearly belonged to a bachelor. Books, papers and painting supplies lay untidily about. In one corner were a number of cardboard tubes with metal caps. In another corner was a small music system. At the far end of the hall was a small dining table with two chairs.
Three doors led from the hall, one to the kitchen and two to bedrooms. He made a quick survey of the other rooms, but found nothing noteworthy. One bedroom was used as Phillip’s work room, where he did his painting. The rug on the floor carried countless paint blotches and drops of different hues. The other bedroom had a double bed and a couple of cupboards with clothes in it. A small locked steel almirah stood in one corner, which Athreya didn’t attempt to open. That was best left to the police.
A minute later, he was back in the veranda, and the padlock was back in its place. Just as he approached the gate, he saw Dora returning from the resort’s main
building to its gate. He hurried to her on his cycle.
All she had learned was that Murthy was still fast asleep, and the other guest—a young man, as the security guard had said—was sleeping it off after being stoned for much of the previous day and all of the night. He hadn’t stirred from his room since 4 p.m. the previous afternoon.
* * *
When they returned to Greybrooke Manor, they found Bahadur, the Gurkha guard, at the rock garden, scrutinizing the lawn with obvious disapproval. On hearing the approach of the two cycles, he looked up and threw them a salute, grinning from ear to ear.
‘Namaskar, madam! Namaskar, sir!’ he called.
‘Good morning, Bahadur,’ Dora replied. ‘What are you looking at?’
‘Cigarettes, madam. Someone has littered the place with cigarette butts.’
Athreya leapt off his cycle and joined Bahadur. Scattered on the grass were half a dozen cigarette butts. Some of them were regular cigarettes with white bodies and yellow filters. But a couple of them were thinner and dark brown in colour. Two people had smoked here. Judging by the number of butts, they must have been here for a while. On the stone bench was an empty packet of Gold Flake cigarettes.
‘Weren’t these there last evening?’ Athreya asked.
‘No, sir. The gardener swept the entire lawn last evening. Bada Saab likes the garden neat and clean during parties.’
‘Who could it have been?’ Dora asked as she joined them. ‘All of us were around the inner lawn—the rose garden, Sunset Deck and thereabouts. I wonder if anyone came here. Did you see anyone, Bahadur?’
‘No, madam. But it was so foggy that I could have missed someone sitting here.’
‘Two people,’ Athreya said quietly. ‘There were two people here. There are two kinds of cigarettes.’
‘Abbas smokes the thin, brown one. “More”, I think it is called.’
‘Who else smokes, Dora?’
‘Nobody in the family, except Uncle, who occasionally enjoys his pipe or cigar. He doesn’t touch cigarettes.’
‘Richie?’ Athreya asked.
