Warlock

by Vickram E Diwan

  “Good,” said Inspector Thakur allowing himself a rare smile. Turning to her father he added, “We will call your daughter to the Police Station later, to record her statement and identify this man.”

  “Sa’ab, we are very poor people; we can’t afford-”

  “You would not have to pay for anything; we’ll send a jeep to pick you up from your village and drop you back. You don’t have to worry or be afraid of anyone, understood?”

  He did not appear to be sure of himself, was still hesitant, but nodded his head nonetheless. “Can we go now Sa’ab?”

  “Yes; Sooraj, go with this man to the Mehrauli Police Station and get a F.I.R. registered about his missing child. If the duty officer there is uncooperative, I’ll talk to him and the S.H.O. Also get a separate F.I.R. registered against Rudolf Schönherr, for the illegal confinement of Ms. Payal Chatterjee and attempt to murder. Get me the copy of the two F.I.R.s, which will be part of the case papers, to be submitted to the court in the morning. And after that drop this man and his girl at their village.”

  The labourer and his daughter greeted the Inspector and left. The people from the forensic science department also finished their work and prepared to leave. After ordering the photographer and video cameraman to submit their photos and video compact disc at his office in the early morning, Inspector Thakur left in his S.U.V. On the way back he called Bishnoi and questioned him about Vincent Costello. He was in turn informed that the man in question was the half-brother of Rudolf Schönherr and his assistant was taking him to the office, where the Police detective could question him in detail. After disconnecting the mobile, the tired Crime Branch Inspector closed his eyes and let loose of his body. He zipped up his black leather jacket as the SUV traveled towards his office on the cold December night.

  Vincent Costello was a 4.5 ft tall and balding man of 38 years with black thin hair and a friendly face. Unknown to Thakur, he bore a striking resemblance to the famous Hollywood actor and director Danny de Vito. So much so that his friends and acquaintances swore that he was a clone of the latter and insisted on calling him ‘Danny’ instead of Vincent or Costello.

  “So, you are Mister Vincent Costello?” Thakur asked sitting on his chair in the office.

  “Please call me Danny,” Costello who had become accustomed to hearing himself as Danny, said to the Inspector.

  “Why? Thakur asked raising his eyebrows.

  “It’s... it's just that everybody calls me Danny. And when you say Vincent Costello, I feel you are not talking to me but someone else in the room.”

  Inspector Thakur looked at him with a strange expression on his face. He soon changed his manner and in a business-like voice asked, “And you Mr. Vin – I mean Danny, you are Rudolf Schönherr’s brother?”

  “Half brother to be precise, Sir,” he replied changing his posture in the chair.

  “I believe you know that we have arrested Rudolf Schönherr, your half-brother this morning?”

  “Yes, your subordinate was telling me,” Danny said with a fleeting glance at S.I. Bishnoi who was sitting on the chair next to him.

  The boy from the tea stall interrupted their conversation when he came in with hot coffee and slices of roasted bread sprinkled with salt, along with omelette. They remained quiet until the boy left, after putting the eatables and the jar of hot coffee on the table.

  “What’s this?” Thakur asked his assistant.

  “I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch and I thought that you could use some light snacks,” Bishnoi explained picking up two slices of bread with omelet inside it. “Who knows when we will get to eat amidst this work?”

  “Would you like to join us, Mr. Costello?” Inspector asked filling his cup with steaming hot coffee.

  “No thank you, it’s getting late. I want to get it over with as soon as possible and go back home. I have to show up at the shop at right time in the morning,” Danny said.

  “Yes of course; you are not serving a twenty-four-hour job like us, why should you suffer?” Thakur spoke with a sigh. He took out two headache pills from the strip which Bishnoi had put on the table and quickly drank hot coffee to push it down his throat. “I hope you don’t mind our eating in your presence.”

  “Not at all Inspector, please feel free.”

  “You live in New Friends Colony, don’t you?” Thakur said taking a bite of the slice of bread and omelet.

  “That was printed on the card itself, which led your assistant to me,” Danny answered with a little annoyance in his voice.

  “A wrong question, do forgive me. It was just that I found it a little surprising, that a underwear salesman can afford a bungalow in such a posh locality of South Delhi.”

  “I am not a salesman, Inspector, but a Manager. And I sell woman’s Lingerie, expensive and imported stuff to the rich and upmarket clientele. As for the bungalow, it is provided by my boss and before you ask let me tell you that my second-hand car has also been provided by my boss.”

  “Lucky man you are Mr. Danny, not easy to find such generous bosses in this city. He must be finding you indispensable, that he provides you with such facilities,” Inspector said sipping the hot coffee from his cup.

  “Not he, but she,” Danny said. Looking at the expression of ‘I should have guessed’ on Inspector’s face, he added, “Don’t get any wrong ideas here Inspector, my relationship with my boss is purely professional.”

  “Of course, Mr. Danny, of course, I would have never thought otherwise.”

  “She is totally dependent on me as far as running the business goes, I practically manage and run the enterprise on my own. So don’t think that Rudolf Schönherr and I are cut out the same rotten way, as far as our dealings with women go.”

  “You don’t seem to have a very high opinion of your brother, do you?”

  “Look, Inspector, let’s cut through the chase here. You have not called me here to discuss my life, have you?”

  “No; it is your brother Rudolf Schönherr that we are interested in.”

  “Fine; and I am completely disinterested in him. Can I go now?”

  “Why are you getting so impatient sir; at least consider that my colleague and I have not got a wink of sleep for the past twenty-four hours, and most probably would have to spend this night too without any sleep.”

  “I sympathize with your harsh working conditions, but what has that got to do with me? Forgive me Inspector for sounding rude, but hey! I didn’t push you in this chair,” Costello said.

  “Yes Mr. Danny, you didn’t but you can at least make our job a little easier here, by telling us all about your brother Rudolf Schönherr and agreeing to testify against him.”

  “Sorry, out of question! I don’t have anything to do with him, nor do I know anything about him.”

  “Not so fast Mr. Costello, save a breath. What was your card doing in Rudolf Schönherr’s wallet? He is not a stranger but your brother who lives in the same city as you.”

  “Look, Inspector, I am a very friendly guy; I meet lots of people and freely distribute my visiting card. I don’t keep a record of every single card of mine and if Rudolf Schönherr had my card, that doesn’t necessarily mean that I had anything to do with whatever he did, or whatever you people suspect him of doing.”

  “Why, you seem to have come prepared to argue over every fine point of the case; strange for a man who says that he didn’t even know of his brother’s arrest until a few hours earlier. Or were you expecting him to be arrested, going by his wild lifestyle?”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about Inspector. And we are only half-brothers, Rudolf Schönherr and I. We were never very close, not even when our mother was living in India. Though we live in the same city, we hardly ever meet,” Danny said.

  “How could Rudolf Schönherr have your card if you didn’t meet him?”

  “I think I might have sent him my card with a gift or a greeting card for a festival, say on Diwali, Christmas or New Year,” he offered by way of explanation.


  “That’s surprising; just now you were saying that you were never close to Rudolf Schönherr, why would you send him a gift or a greeting card? Or did you send him a parcel with woman’s Lingerie with your card on it, so that he would know who sent it?” Inspector Thakur asked looking closely at him.

  “What would Rudolf Schönherr do with women’s Lingerie?”

  “I don’t know, you tell me. Did he present them to a woman? If so, who?”

  “Look, Inspector, you are getting in a wild goose chase here. First of all, it is no crime to sell women Lingerie or to send it in a parcel – as you like to imagine – to a person. Neither is it a crime if a man presents them to a female friend of his. And above all, my life, my work and my activities are not what you are interested in, but in Rudolf Schönherr alone.”

  “Correct, he is the one we are interested in.”

  “let me leave. I have no link with him or any of his alleged activities. Tell me one thing straight here; am I an arrested person?”

  “No”

  “I would like to leave.”

  “Look here Mr. Danny we are not playing a game here. Your brother has been arrested for abduction and attempted murder of a girl and he possibly murdered a child as well. Now we need your cooperation and assistance to prove our case.”

  “But my dear Inspector you can’t force a person to give you assistance and cooperate with you, who has nothing to do with this case and to be sure, it is the prerogative of a person to give you assistance or not. As far as Rudolf Schönherr’s alleged crimes go, it is your job to prove them in the court, not mine. For my part, I have already stated, that I have no knowledge whatsoever of Rudolf Schönherr’s activities since past ten years.”

  “We could call you in the court Mr. Danny and force you to testify against your will.”

  “do that, when that stage comes, I’ll see. Until I believe that I am a free citizen in this country, who can go anywhere he wishes to. You have no right to make me sit here against my will, more so when you have nothing against me. So I think that I would better take my leave.”

  Saying that the ‘clone’ of Hollywood star Danny de Vito got up and boldly walked out of the office without taking another look at the Inspector or his subordinate. Both of them sat like dead ducks in their chairs with amazed faces, looking at the doorway from which Costello had left.

  “He seems to be taking us for a ride, Bishnoi, what do you say?” Thakur let go of a sigh of helplessness.

  “He was right about what he said Sir; we have nothing against him and cannot force him to cooperate with us against his will.”

  “Maybe; but what troubles me most is that he was not impressed in the least with our uniforms or the fact that he was in the office of the Crime Branch.”

  “You are wrong on both those counts Inspector,” Danny said reappearing in the doorway. “I seem to have dropped my lighter here,” he came into the room and picked up his cigarette lighter from the chair he had been sitting on.

  “One moment Mr. Danny,” Inspector said, “Why didn’t you tell us anything?”

  “Because I fear my half-brother more than you or your Police force, I’ll give you a piece of advice Inspector,” Danny said lowering his voice, “it is up to you to follow it or not, but if I were you, I would stay the hell away from Rudolf Schönherr. He is a bad news with a capital B.”

  “For once you are right Danny,” Rudolf Schönherr said appearing on the doorway with a constable.

  “What is he doing here?” Inspector Thakur shouted, getting up from his chair.

  “He said he wanted to talk to you this very minute,” the constable replied meekly.

  “Take him away from this very instant,” Thakur again shouted.

  “I didn’t tell them anything Rudolf Schönherr!” Danny pleaded before his kid brother.

  “I will soon find out that Danny; and if you have…we both know what I am capable of doing,” Rudolf Schönherr said furiously with a cruel smile on his thin lips.

  “Look at his nerve,” Thakur said to his assistant Bishnoi, “He is threatening a potential witness in the presence of police officers!”

  Danny suddenly got very frightened and sticking close to the wall, he ran to the door, thinking that Rudolf Schönherr was about to pounce on him at any moment. Rudolf Schönherr laughed, seeing him run scared like that and turning to Inspector he said, “He is actually right you know, I suggest that you follow his advice and don’t mess with me. Danny knows how cruel I can be.”

  “Now you are threatening a cop!” Thakur said with disbelief.

  “Easy Inspector, don’t get melodramatic. You have no witnesses to prove the threats; statements of you and your fellow cops would not be accepted as evidence in a court of law. And Danny of all creatures would never testify against me. Believe me, he is a coward, he always was; he is not going to speak a single word against me, you will only be wasting your time with him.”

  “Take him away,” Thakur shouted in rage and frustration.

  When the constable took away Rudolf Schönherr to the lockup, Thakur sat down on his chair and started to formulate the strategy of the court hearing in the coming morning with sub-inspector Bishnoi. By the time they were finished with their preparation and discussion on the case, they both felt very tired and worn out. They expected the lawyer representing the Govt. prosecutor to come around seven in the morning. Both men left their house, anxious to catch up with their sleep in the few remaining hours before they had to return to the office.

  CHAPTER 10: THE LUCKY ESCAPE

  At exactly half past ten in the morning, Additional Sessions Judge Lakshman Prasad Makhija’s court in Patiala house came into session. Before him was a youthful lawyer Anjali Kohli and Jamna Lal Kathuria, a gray-haired lean man with thick spectacles, who was the Public prosecutor. The Judge looked at the list of cases, which were registered for that day’s hearing. After glancing at the papers on his desk curiously he looked up at the lawyers in front of him.

  Taking the cue, Anjali stepped forward and said, “Good Morning, Sir. Your Honour, the defense pleads for immediate and unconditional release of Mr. Rudolf Schönherr, who had been illegally held in police custody for more than twenty-four hours.”

  “I strongly object your honour,” the prosecutor said stepping forward. “The accused had kept a young woman in illegal confinement at his estate, which is a very serious offense in itself. When the Police nabbed him, he was on the verge of killing that girl, Ms. Payal. Your Honour has on his desk before him the sworn statement of Miss Payal Chatterjee to that effect.”

  “But your honour,” Rudolf Schönherr’s lawyer argued, “that statement cannot be accepted as an unalterable fact or an undisputed piece of evidence; certainly not in this early stage of proceedings. The defense requests that Mr. Schönherr is released without further delay.”

  “But your Honour,” the old lawyer said, “the defendant represents a flight risk if released on bail. The safety of Miss Payal and other witnesses in this case, which the prosecution does not want to mention the names of, for obvious reasons, would be seriously compromised if the accused is released on bail.”

  “This is ludicrous your Honour, Mr. Schönherr is an internationally acclaimed dancer and choreographer, who also appears on a weekly show on satellite television. And he also has considerable assets and investments in the city, including an institute of performing arts in South extension and a bungalow in Vasant Vihar. He is not a tramp or a vagabond, who could take to his heels on a day’s notice. And as for the safety of the young woman, Mr. Schönherr is prepared to submit a sworn affidavit in this court that he would not try to approach Miss Payal until this matter is decided. And if the prosecution insists, the defense has no objections to even a court order restraining Mr. Schönherr from approaching Ms. Payal.”

  “This is unacceptable your honour,” said the prosecutor.

  “What more guarantee the prosecution could possibly demand?” Anjali asked. “As for the so-called ot
her witnesses, Mr. Schönherr is prepared to follow the same conditions, as the defense has proposed regarding Ms. Payal. Provided of course that the prosecution is prepared to submit a list of the same in the court, which in turn is conveyed to the defense.”

  “Your Honour,” the aging lawyer argued, “the accused is a Tantrik! Ms. Payal is an eyewitness to the ritual killing of an innocent baby by this vicious sorcerer. Along with the statement of the complainant, Miss Payal and the F.I.R. of the case lodged against the accused in the Mehrauli Police station, your honour also has on his table the report of the Investigating Officer of this case. Along with the photographs and the videography of the farmhouse of the accused, this verifies the statement of the complainant. Forensic experts have picked up vital clues from the scene of the crime, including fingerprints and blood samples; the robe of the accused with bloodstains has been found in the cupboard in the bedroom. They are being sent to a laboratory in Hyderabad for analysis forthwith and the report of the same shall be submitted to the court in due course.”

  “Your honour, I fail to understand,” argued Anjali, “as to why the Public prosecutor is laying so much emphasis on the supposed blood stains? Since the complainant has not stated anywhere that she was injured by my client.”

  “The bloodstains are the primary evidence to prove that the accused is a Tantrik that sacrificed a baby at the altar in the glass pyramid at his farmhouse with a horrifying idol of the Devil. Your honour, the accused lives parallel lives, one as a famous dancer and choreographer, while the other of sinister and vicious Tantrik. That is also the reason why he maintains two separate places; his bungalow in Vasant Vihar and his secret workplace, the farmhouse in Mehrauli.”

  “Your honour, the twisted thesis of two lives propounded by the public prosecutor does not merit a reply,” said Anjali. However, I take strong exception to his unsubstantiated accusation that my educated client, who is widely traveled and is an internationally acclaimed artist, is also a Tantrik. I am surprised that my learned colleague believes in such kind of medieval nonsense and has the audacity to accuse my client of following the profession of at best semi-literate conmen, which fool gullible and superstitious masses. Even more shocking is the careless manner in which a man of his legal knowledge and many years of experience can make such unwarranted accusations. And lest he forgets, let me remind him that the primary requirement for registration of a case of homicide is the body of the murder victim.”