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The Weapon of the Devas

Page 2

by Nanda Gopal Guruswamy


  “I have a question for you. Why do you share all these things with me? You’re the reason for many of my nightmares.” The question was more like an appeal, with his face tilted slightly to the side like he was asking me not to.

  “Glad to hear it” I said smiling. “You need to lighten up, maybe I should leave you a summoning spell for an Apsara.”

  “Dont tempt me,” he said seriously.

  “Now the case I was talking about. As you know my workshop is one of the best, one my regular client owns the best cars around—Audis, Porsche and even a Rolls-Royce Phantom. When his driver dropped off the Phantom, I wanted to handle this personally. So the driver and I got talking and he said that his boss’s home had been attacked and his safe opened, but nothing had been taken.”

  “You can ask her look like whomever you want, her slightest movement could put you in a trance.” I interrupted.

  “His boss has been tortured and is in a coma. His doctors working round the clock but his wife thinks something supernatural happened and is totally freaking out calling priests and psychics. So I told her about you and she would like to meet you.” He finally concluded.

  “At first she would dance, and then ….” I said staring off dreamily.

  I saw Alagaraja’s eyebrow go up.

  “It would be the most glorious day of your life.” I sighed.

  The eyebrow went even higher.

  “Ok, ok. Man tortured. Home ransacked. Magical involvement suspected. Blah blah blah, same old stuff. It’s probably his enemies looking for something and didn’t find it. Has she contacted the police?”

  I didn’t want this case. I wanted a nice rest. But India is one of the oldest civilizations with an unmeasurable history. That means that there are a lot of things here that the western world hasn’t even heard about. Evil things whose names are lost. That means that there is usually a lot of work for Guardians.

  “I don’t know. She could make it worth your while,” he said.

  Now my eyebrow went up and I looked at him questioningly.

  “No, you idiot. Financially. Didn’t I mention the ‘immensely rich’ part?”

  Oh! That put a different tone on things. I did just get paid, but the government isn’t exactly up-to-date on standards of living so it wasn’t much. I could just go in for a consult, see what was what and take it from there.

  “Ok, where is it?” I said, making up my mind.

  He gave me the address. It was a little away from Bangalore city near Hoskote. Translated into English, Hoskote literally meant ‘Newcastle’. “He was attacked in his own castle?” I asked ironically.

  “Beg your pardon?” asked Alagaraja.

  “Never mind. Did you get that information I wanted?” [S1] [GGN2] I enquired.

  “Yes, but I don’t think you should interfere. That’s not your fight.” He warned.

  “But it is, when your so-called authorities don’t do anything. I just can’t stand by and watch these animals operate with impunity. ”

  “Why are you staring at your screen like that?” I asked.

  “Oh, I’m using a drone to follow my neighbour. I’m sure he’s upto something illegal.” He stated.

  “Drone?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Toy helicopter fitted with a camera. Cool huh?” He turned the monitor towards me. I could see a shaky black and white video following a silver corolla from a distance.

  “I fitted the drone with the latest advancements in battery technology, so it can fly for up to four hours”

  “You’re stalking your neighbour? Yeah, that’s not creepy at all” I said as I turned to leave.

  Chapter 2: Newcastle

  Time to get some breakfast. I walked into a vegetarian Sagar restaurant and had onion dosa with sambhar and sagoo. I dipped a piece of dosa into the sambhar, put it in my mouth and immediately felt the sickly sweet taste of the sambhar. I’m still looking for a restaurant in Bangalore, where sambhar wasn’t sweet. Sambhar isnt supposed to be sweet, when will these chefs change the recipe. But the onion dosa and sagoo were hot and delicious. Then I went on a ride with Lakshmi to Hoskote. Once I hit the highway, it was smooth sailing.

  I slowed down my bike near the huge black metal gate outside the house. The bronze name plate on the wall read “Gokulam”. The watchman came out.

  “Hi, I’m Shiva. I am here to see the home owner”. I said.

  “Yes sir, Madam is expecting you”. He said opening the gate. In front of me was a huge, manicured lawn and a beautiful three-storied house—European architecture and a massive entrance. There were trees framing the sides of the house and all around the wall. The walls were, at least, ten feet high with broken glass on top. Castle indeed, impressive! There were two semicircular lanes that led to the entrance. I picked one and rode on. I parked right out in front.

  A thin average looking man was up front waiting for me. He had expensive clothes on him, cologne I could smell from the driveway and an arrogant look about him.

  “Hi. I’m Aditya. This is a pleasure.” Then he snapped his fingers and a servant came out. “Park the bike in the garage and arrange for tea on the balcony,” he said. He had a British accent.

  As we went inside, he led the way at a brisk pace. “Listen, I know why you’re here. My sister is at a very vulnerable place right now, so be patient. And whatever it is that you do, make sure that she stays hopeful. She insisted that you should be contacted. I will be monitoring you.” Here he looked at me. “So please don’t go on a wild goose chase and charge her heavily for it. Just do some mumbo-jumbo and tell her everything is gonna be ok.”

  “I understand,” I said. Ahh, a non-believer, an MBA from abroad types, who visits India occasionally. I wouldn’t waste time trying to convince him; these people are so involved in themselves and have blind faith on western principles and ideals. He probably considers my profession a joke. By the way, what was my profession, a private investigator? A monster-hunter? One of those things I need to ponder about when I’m free.

  Aditya took me to the balcony where there were wicker chairs and a glass table. The air here was cleaner and the view was magnificent. There were potted plants on the sides, roses and some other flowers that cast a nice fragrance. I was still standing taking in the view when a lady came in. She had an olive complexion common in Indians, nice skin and a round face. Seemed to be in her thirties, around 5’6 and was draped in a cream-coloured shawl over a top and leggings in the traditional Indian style. Her hair were tied in a ponytail. Her face was calm but it was easy to see that she had been crying.

  “Hi, I’m Palak Malhotra.” She said extending her hand. I took it saying, “Shiva. Pleased to meet you. Alagaraja said you wanted to meet me.”

  “Yes, please have a seat. Tea?”

  “Yes, please” I sat down on a chair and she sat opposite me. A servant came in and poured some tea in exquisite little glasses. This servant had the same clothes as the one near the door. These people had uniforms for their servants as well, I watched dazzled. I took a sip. It was heavenly. Nothing at all like the swill I had this morning. “What has Alagaraja told you?” She asked. I told her what I knew.

  “That’s pretty much it. It happened a week ago. My husband Prajwal sometimes works during the night in his study. I went into the study the next morning to find blood all over the place and … and my husband on the floor. I took him to the hospital, they treated him. But he’s in a coma. Praju always hated hospitals, so I bought him back here this morning. There are many doctors working to get him back, but they are failing. My husband is deteriorating and it won’t be long before he … ” Looked like it took her a lot of effort to say that part. What I did note was that she had a very expressive face. Emotions were writ clear and dramatic.

  “Was there anything strange in the room that you noticed apart from the blood?” I asked.

  “No, nothing.”

  “What type of security do you have here?”

  “A lot. Guards, security cameras, dogs. But they
all say that they did not notice anything.”

  “Did you hear anything?” I questioned.

  “No.” She said with a sob. “I was right there in the next room and I didn’t hear a thing. Praju had the room soundproofed so he could work in silence. There are no cameras in that room. He was being … he was being …” She stuttered into silence. I remained quiet.

  “Why him? He never harmed anyone. Donated to several causes, always stood by the right thing…” She continued aloud.

  A single tear rolled off her cheek, the wind blew and her hair draped across her face. Her face went through a range of emotions that even I found surprising. Maybe she was lying, A good way to cover a murder is by calling in priests and psychics. No one would find anything and the whole thing would be forgotten in a year or so. But no one would act so obvious, unless ...

  “Are you a Bharatnatyam dancer?” I queried.

  “Yes,” she said looking shocked. “How did you know?”

  I shrugged and said, “Lucky guess”. Almost eighty per cent of the time, it’s the wife. I had developed a healthy mistrust of my clients. They never told me ‘the compete truth’. I had to consider her as my first suspect. Hey, its not paranoia if they’re out to get you.

  “Does your husband have any enemies?”

  “Stop. Stop asking questions like the police. They too think this is some sort of revenge or business deal gone bad. I know its not.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. It sounds crazy, but something unnatural happened in that room. I know it.” She whispered the last three words as if she was convincing herself.

  It wasn’t crazy. Strong magic leaves behind traces. And Bharatnatyam dancers are very sensitive. Maybe she picked up something … might be a case here after all.

  “I tried everything and everyone—priests, psychics, homas, yagnas, rituals and poojas, nothing has worked. I know I’m an educated woman who shouldn’t believe in all this, but I know that this isn’t a matter for the police. Will you please help?” She asked me with those huge expressive eyes. I was always an idiot around women. This situation was not an exception.

  “Ok fine. I’ll take a look. I don’t charge for consults. If I do find something, I’ll investigate further. If you put me on retainer, I charge 1000 rupees an hour plus expenses.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Gratitude was written in every line of that beautiful face. I suspected that this lady always got her way. Men probably melted like butter in her hands, she had the classic damsel thing down to a science.

  “Ok, I need to see the study.” I said, finally.

  “Of course.” She stood up.

  I stood up as well and took one last view from the balcony. It was all green. It was a great place to just sit, relax and read a book. I caught Aditya, Mr Hi-fi, browsing the internet on his tablet when we went in.

  “Come with me, let’s show Shiva the study. He needs to see it.” Aditya rolled his eyes and said “Not another one, this makes what, the seventh consultant you’ve hired?” He made those quotation marks symbols with his fingers when he said consultant.

  “Adi, I have every confidence that Shiva will succeed where others have failed,” Palak said with the utmost assurance. Back on the balcony, it was like she was the concerned wife, now it was like she had taken on the role of a brave woman. Her stance, her walk, everything in her manner reflected that. I couldn’t make out if it was an act or real. Bharatnatyam dancers. [S3] [GGN4] Go figure.

  “Yes Adi,” I replied with a sweet smile. “Seven is actually a mystical and magical number.” The smile annoyed him more than me using his nickname. Sometimes you can just mess with people by smiling at them when they are openly rude to you. He scowled before turning to lead the way.

  I stepped in the study and looked around. It was the size of a regular room with a huge bookcase that many leather-bound books. The décor was muted with no flashy colours or anything else. There were small beautiful Indian figurines of dancers, a bronze Nataraja and a bust of Ganesha on his desk. A place of quiet contemplation. Except for the blood.

  Thin streaks of blood were strewn all over the walls, even on the ceiling. On the floor just in front of the desk there was a huge stain. “Looks like a lot of blood,” I said.

  “How observant!” Aditya said sarcastically.

  He was in the room with me, but Palak hadn’t crossed the threshold. There was a look of fear on her face. “There was a lot of blood loss but the doctors treated him for it. That is not the problem.” There was no trace of any residual magic. But it had been a week, so it could have faded away. But Prajwal’s study was interesting. There was a huge tapestry on the wall behind his desk. It was a famous image of Lord Krishna and Arjuna in the Mahabharata. The one where Lord Krishna is riding a chariot and Arjuna is in the classic archer’s stance firing arrows. It was mesmerizing. I looked around. “Lot of idols here,” I observed aloud.

  “Yes, my husband was interested in antiques, especially of Indian origin.”

  “Did he get anything recently?” I asked. Maybe acquired something dangerous and someone came after him for it.

  “No. I don’t think so. He usually shows me the ones that he gets and tells me their story. He was very passionate about history.”

  Sounds like a decent guy. Ok, here comes the sensitive part.

  “May I see the safe?” I asked.

  “Absolutely not,” said Aditya, firmly.

  “I think its ok, Adi.” His sister added.

  “No Palak. That’s enough. I’m okay with you hiring these charlatans, but I cannot allow you to reveal our family’s secrets.”

  Palak was about to reply angrily, when I said “That’s ok. I think he’s right about the safe. I just need to know what was in the safe generally and if anything was missing.”

  “Just some money, documents and jewels. Nothing was missing. ” Palak said glaring at Aditya.

  “Ok, I need to see Mr Malhotra now.”

  They took me another room upstairs. The room had been recently modified. It was filled with all sorts of medical equipment and at the centre was a bed. There was a man on it, late thirties, again average nothing special except that there were tubes going in and out of his body everywhere. There was a heart monitor that was plugged in; it was showing a steady heartbeat. There were three doctors in coats fussing over him. As we got closer, they looked up. Palak was the first to speak. “How is he?” She asked, her voice was full of concern. She went to him and placed her hand on his forehead and was looking at him sadly. Again with the heavy emotion, it was a bit much for me.

  “No improvement so far, I’m afraid Mrs Malhotra.” One of the doctors answered while looking me up and down. He was frowning at me, possibly offended at my appearance. I was in my usual leather jacket, jeans and boots, totally out of place in this classy household. “This is Shiva.” Palak answered in questions to their looks.

  “Please give us a few minutes with my husband,” she requested courteously.

  The doctors all slouched away giving me disapproving looks. This wasn’t the first time that people had shown me attitude and it definitely wasn’t going to be the last. But I don’t care about these things. I stepped closer and looked at Mr Malhotra.

  He was lean man with handsome features, but his face was scarred now. Whoa, someone really did a number on him. He had been patched up. But the damage was severe, broken bones, long jagged tears all over his body. I could even make out the ugly purple bruises even through his wheatish complexion. I leaned for a closer look and saw something on his forehead, even amidst all that scarring, it was unmistakable—a symbol. I opened the top half of his hospital gown and was looking at his torso for the same symbol. There was another one just like it near his heart.

  This completely changed things. It removed both Palak and Aditya as suspects. This was no ordinary symbol. Palak was right. Something supernatural did happen that night and that something is still probably close by.

  My voice was very quiet whe
n I asked “Is there a graveyard nearby?”

  Palak looked shocked again for the second time. Curiously, this look was an exact replica of the first one, not a single facial muscle out of place. “Yes, how did you know?”

  “Please, He saw it while coming here or asked around.” Aditya said, pronouncing please as ‘pleeheez’.

  I ignored him while I asked “You were right. This is not a case for the police. I’m ready to work for you if you put me on retainer.”

  Palak’s face beamed at my validation that she wasn’t crazy. “Of course. Thank you again.”

  “Give me a break. Palak, are you really gonna believe this guy?” Palak replied with spirit and they were off arguing again.

  I wasn’t listening. I was distracted and a little afraid. The symbol on Prajwal could mean many things and I needed to do some research. Palak arranged for a laptop and other items that I requested. She seemed a bit puzzled at the list but got them for me anyway. Mostly they were items available in most Indian kitchens.

  The laptop was her husband’s. I was logged in using a guest account and started my research and preparation. Halfway through, I got bored and hacked into her husband’s account. It wasn’t even a decent challenge. Using ‘password’ as a password is not smart. Even variations of the word are easy to figure out. C’mon people. Dear hubby’s email account made for a very interesting read. Palak had not told me everything after all.

  If I was right, then tonight is gonna get very scary. And I was woefully unprepared for it. I isolated myself in the room and alternated between doing research and preparing little spells and other things I could use in a fight. It was around 10.00 p.m. when I saw Palak again. She gave me an envelope. “There’s 20,000 rupees in there, is it enough?” She asked

 

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