Author : Prasanna Rao
Author Intro
Have you
ever noticed that shy, reticent girl in every party sitting at a quiet corner,
nursing her drink? Well, that’s me. Painfully shy and introvert, I prefer the
company of books, music and my laptop on any day. By profession a software
engineer and by passion a writer, my writing skills are just taking flight,
trying to fly with other zipping, zapping and zooming writers. A novice amid
veterans, I try to make my voice heard at Life Under Microscope.
Story:
Inspector Kamble
Suhas Roy was walking at a rapid pace listening to the
soothing music on his I-pod. It was a cold wintry morning and much as his wife
had implored him against going on his usual morning walk, Suhas had put on his
walking shoes and started off on his daily walk. The cold draft was making him
shiver, but he tenaciously walked in the narrow lane leading out from his flat
to the main road. He had been taking the same route for the past 2 years, since
he had started on his rather monotonous retired life.
He had almost walked half a kilometer when he stopped dead
in his tracks. Despite his age Suhas had a good, strong heart. Any other man
with a frail heart would have dropped dead at the gory sight that Suhas had
come across. A man dressed in an impeccable business suit was hanging from the
mesh of cables overhead.
Suhas did not notice the clean single bullet wound on the
man’s forehead. He was busy staring at the dead man’s legs, below which a
bloody puddle had formed. It took him a few seconds to realize that the
feet on the man’s legs were missing. Blood was dripping and forming a small
pool below. Suhas turned to the side of the road before the bile rose in his
throat. He rushed back to his house and immediately called the police.
Half an hour later, the narrow deserted road had become a
hub of police activity. A dozen police men, all bleary eyed were searching the
scene for any clues or evidences. The whole area was cordoned off but residents
of the apartments located near the area had gathered around to witness the gory
crime scene. The dead body had been lifted and laid on the ground and some
policemen were collecting forensic evidences.
Inspector Rajiv Kamble was one of the few policemen bent
over the dead body scrutinizing for details. Kamble was just finishing his
night duty, which except for few errant drunk drivers was pretty nondescript,
when he was informed about the dead body. Cursing and muttering expletives
under his breath, he climbed the police jeep and took off to the crime scene.
The ride to the place was bumpy and Kamble’s belly was
wobbling like a jelly in a plate. He was 5’6 and weighed around 85 kgs, but
Kamble had long back stopped worrying about useless things like fitness. He had
just 5 years before his retirement from the police force and the biggest worry
that kept him wide awake at night was how to financially sustain himself after
his retirement.
After inspecting the dead body, he went to his chief aide,
Mahesh Shirke. Shirke was a young officer, enthusiastic and hardworking and
somehow had made himself indispensible to Kamble.
Kamble trusted his instincts when investigating a crime
case and asked Shirke to follow up on the leads, often changing his theory
multiple times during the course of investigation. This usually drove Shirke up
the walls in a frenzy but he couldn’t deny the fact that his boss had a genius
mind, albeit a little bizarre.
Kamble ambled up to Shirke and asked him ‘Any id on the
body?’
‘Yes Sir, his name was Jay Rathore, age 28, son of the
business tycoon, Vinod Rathore.’, answered Shirke in his usual perky voice.
‘Son of a b****’, exclaimed Kamble in a loud voice which
made Shirke wince.
Kamble continued, ‘Vinod Rathore’s son? This is going to
be a huge one Shirke. The media is going to be swarming on this one. Get more
police officers here. Cordon off the entire area. Get those citizens back. I’m
going to call the chief and inform him.’
Kamble was feeling tensed about the situation. He always
trusted in his instinct and his instincts were screaming that this case was
about to blow up and be a messy one.
He flexed his shoulders and opened a cigarette pack. It
was a fancy foreign brand that his brother in law had sent from Australia
Everyone started sniggering surreptitiously, but Shirke
felt embarrassed about his boss. This had been Kamble’s behavior from the past
few weeks but Shirke did not dare ask him about it, lest it antagonizes him.
His senior was known to behave erratically some time. But Shirke finally
gathered courage to ask Kamble about it.
‘Sir, why do you always sniff the cigarette and never
smoke it’, he asked gently.
‘What?’ asked Kamble perplexed. ‘Oh that, my wife wants me
to stop smoking’, replied Kamble vaguely.
‘Shirke, what about the feet?’, suddenly Kamble quipped.
It took Shirke a few seconds to realize the matter his
boss was referring to. But he recovered fast and replied, ‘we did not find the
feet around here, but we will keep searching for any clues, Sir.’
Kamble felt weary and fatigued. All he wanted was to go home
and sleep. He called his men and said aloud, ‘Keep searching for clues, guys.
Shirke, send the body for post-mortem and please inform the family members.
This case is going to be a hot one. The media gets a whiff of it and they’ll be
crawling all over the place. So I want everyone to keep a lid on this case’.
He felt powerful and in control instructing and commanding
his men. But just then his mobile phone started ringing.
You are my
pumpkin pumpkin you are my honey bunny
‘Damn my kids’, thought Kamble. They kept changing his
ringtone. Now he felt like a wussy in front of his men.
“Hello, who’s this”, he snarled on the phone.
‘Oh darling, it’s you. Yes, yes, no I was not angry at
you. Yeah darling, ok, sure’. Kamble cut the call from his wife, now in a
totally vexed mood. He made a mental note to look at the caller id before
picking the call.
He left for his house finally, leaving behind the smirking
police officers.
Jay Rathore
6 hours earlier Jay Rathore, very much alive and kicking
was dressed to party, in a business suit which he had paired with a purple
satin shirt. People who knew Jay closely wouldn’t have been surprised at the
choice of his attire because Jay was almost always dressed in a business suit.
Be it a meeting, or a wedding, or a date or a funeral he was always suited up.
There were some rumors in the Page 3 society that he even slept in a business
suit but the gossip mongers had nothing to substantiate it.
There were also rumors that Jay Rathore was as gay as a
lark. But again, there was nothing to actually corroborate this nasty piece of
speculation.
Jay’s phone started ringing; he took out his Blackberry
and saw that it was his wife calling him. He picked the phone and drawled while
talking ‘Hello darling. Whats up? Ah aha, ok, sure. I have got to go. I have an
important meeting with a client. Yeah baby, my kind of meeting. Ok, bye, take
care.’
He rolled his eyes as he kept the phone back in his
pocket.
Women, he could never understand them and that is why he
preferred men. Now, men are pretty straight forward. He chuckled at his choice
of words. He was anything but straight.
8 years back he had got married to Sunita, but it was a
marriage of convenience. He had confessed to Sunita in the first meeting about
his sexual preference. But she was perfectly fine with it. She wanted money and
social status and he wanted freedom to explore his desires. Both got what they
wanted and they were happy with their life.
Jay took out his Samsung phone, this number was a private
one. He only shared it with a few boys he dated on a regular basis. He checked
his what’sapp messages. PP had sent him a message. He just couldn’t understand
why PP preferred messaging him on whatsapp and other such fancy applications
when he could just send him a SMS. But PP was a techno-freak.
He had met PP through an online gay chat room which Jay
visited when he felt bored or he needed a dose of adventure. He had given
himself the code name of ‘Lucky Puppy’.
After few minutes of being online, a guy calling himself
as ‘Prancing Pony’ pinged him on the chat. A few minutes of chatting and Jay
was totally charmed with the guy. He sounded to be smart, funny and completely
gay.
At the end of an hour both had exchanged their phone
numbers.
Jay called the guy next day and he found that his name was
Vikas Khanna and he was an investment banker. They talked regularly over the
phone and Jay found himself being attracted to Vikas.
It was Jay who finally suggested that they should meet and
Vikas, even though initially hesitant, agreed for the rendezvous.
So that was how Jay dressed in a purple satin shirt and a
suit was heading to H2O, a popular bar, where Vikas aka PP had said would meet.
But little did he know that his harmless flirting and his innocuous fling would
be the reason for his gruesome death.
The Investigation
When Inspector Kamble returned a few hours after noon , he found Shirke ready with the initial report of the murder.
The body had been sent for autopsy and as expected the media was at the police
station waiting for some updates on the investigation.
As Kamble entered the station, hordes of reporters
surrounded him and thrust their microphones under his nose. ‘Sir, do you have
any suspects’, ‘Are you making any arrests’, the reporters barraged him with
questions.
He felt slightly intimidated and chided himself for not
shaving before coming for duty. But it was too late to rectify it. He put on
his best smile and praying fervently that none of the coriander that his wife
put in the potato curry were sticking to his teeth, he spoke with a confidence
that he did not feel, ‘We are doing our best to catch the culprit or culprits,
but as of now we don’t have any updates. My condolences to Vinod Rathore and
his family’.
Kamble ran inside before he made a statement to the press
that he would regret later. Shirke was waiting for him with a fat file in his
hand. Taking out his kerchief and mopping his head, Kamble asked Shirke, ‘Do
you have any updates? Chief has been badgering me for progress on this case. We
need to move fast Shirke, make some arrests in few days otherwise we will be
f***ed.’
Shirke winced at his words, he did not like when his boss
mouthed expletives. Kamble thought that Shirke was a sissy, the way he made
faces whenever he heard a cuss word.
Shirke spoke ignoring his boss’s tirade, ‘Yes Sir, the
modus operandi looks very similar to a spree of murders that happened few
months back in South of Karnataka. The perp, a serial killer chose his victims
from bars and then mutated parts of their bodies before killing them. There was
never any motive for the killings but almost all his victims were gay. And
there were rumors that Jay Rathore was not really a ladies guy.’
‘Also I went to Jay Rathore’s office and spoke to his
secretary. Looks like he was a good boss, his secretary was shattered by the
news of his death, but I managed to get some useful information from her. Jay
owned two phones; one was the Blackberry which was found at the crime scene and
other a Samsung phone, which is missing. But no one from his office had the
number of the missing phone; it must be a private number.’
‘And I checked his cell phone records; the last call on
his number was from his wife. She called him around 30 minutes before the
estimated time of his death and they spoke just for 3 minutes.’
‘I also got the Ballistics report, the bullet that killed
Jay was fired from a S&W 9mm semiautomatic pistol’.
Kamble was obviously impressed by Shirke’s swift inquiry.
But he kept his voice neutral and said, ‘Good Shirke, let’s rule out the serial
killer theory though. I think we should pay Mrs. Rathore a visit’.
Sunita Rathore.
Sunita was exhausted after all the shopping she had
managed to accomplish in the last one hour. Given the fact that her husband was
as dead as a doornail, she now faced the arduous task of revamping her wardrobe
with grieving clothes, so she went out and bought herself a whole new wardrobe
filled with white, cream and pastel clothes and of course matching accessories.
One couldn’t really grieve when one’s accessories did not match the dress.
She looked at her watch; she had one more hour before
guests started dropping into her house for the condolence gathering. The
funeral itself was to be held late evening, once the post-mortem was completed.
She called her boyfriend. ‘Hey, where are you? You’ll be
there for the funeral? Ok, will meet you then’. She was just about to go and
have a relaxing bath when two police inspectors visited her house to talk to
her.
Meeting with Sunita Rathore
It was evident the minute the two officers entered Sunita
Rathore’s house that she was flirting with Shirke. Shirke, unmarried and
single, felt self-conscious being the center of Sunita’s attention.
As both officers sat down in the lounge of the 10-bedroom
Rathore bungalow, they felt awed by the money and power that the family seemed
to ooze.
It didn’t go undetected to the keen eyes of Kamble that
Mrs. Rathore was not exactly in anguish about her husband’s death.
‘Mrs. Rathore, I am sorry about your husband, but it’s
imperative that we ask some questions to you. I apologize if we are causing any
more pain for you.’ Kamble started off.
‘Not at all, I am happy to receive guests. And I
understand that you are helping to catch my husband’s murderer. I will do
whatever possible, I’m there for your service, officers’, the last statement
was uttered by Sunita with a meaningful look at Shirke and an unnecessary
heaving of her bosom.
Shirke shifted in his seat uncomfortably. ‘Mrs. Rathore,
do you know anyone who would want your husband dead. Did he have any enemies?’
Sunita flicked her hair back and bent towards Shirke. Part
of her cleavage was visible as her Sari fell from her shoulders. She clasped
Shirke’s hand and said’ No officer, but Jay and I were not an ideal couple. You
must have heard rumors about Jay being gay, they were true. In our 8 years of
marriage we never had a sexual relationship.’
Shirke quickly moved towards Kamble who was busy examining
the artifacts adorning the walls. On an impulse, Kamble turned towards Sunita
and asked ‘Mrs. Rathore, did you know that Jay had a will drafted a few months
back?’
Kamble’s question flustered and sent Sunita in a tizzy.
She was quiet for some time before answering, ‘Yes, as per his will, 80% of his
wealth goes to a NGO, the remaining 20% remains with me. He had talked to me
about it. He was a philanthropist although he never flaunted his benevolence. I
had no qualms too as my jewelry, this house and the one in London
For the first time Kamble could hear a sad tone in Mrs.
Rathore’s voice. He decided there was no more information to glean from her. Before
leaving he asked her a final question, ‘Mrs. Rathore, do you know where Jay may
have kept his Samsung phone. We found his other phone but the Samsung one has
been missing’.
‘That phone had the numbers of all his boyfriends and he
had it when he had gone for the meeting with his friend yesterday’, said Sunita
before darting a final glance at Shirke.
The Climax
Couple of months had passed but there were no clues in Jay
Rathore’s murder. The police investigation continued and the only occurrence
was the news that Jay had changed his will a few days before the murder. As per
the new will Sunita received a major proportion of Jay’s shares in the company
and half of his property. The new will had made Sunita richer by a few thousand
crores. Speculations were ripe that Sunita had planned her husband’s death. It
couldn’t be a coincidence that the will was changed just few days before Jay’s
gruesome death.
On a hunch, Kamble had asked Jay’s computer in his office
to be hacked. He was sure that once the he had the number of Jay’s Samsung
phone, then he would know the identity of the person Jay was meeting. Kamble
knew he was very close to solving the case.
Shirke came to the station in a hurry and spoke in an
excited tone, ‘Sir, we were able to hack Jay’s personal computer and we came
across his chat history. He used to frequently visit gay chat rooms and he had
become very close to a guy calling himself as Prancing Pony. The last Jay
chatted with this guy was just 2 weeks before his death. But I got the number
of his Samsung phone. And from last month, the phone has been active and the
location shows 10 Downing
Street
Kamble got up elatedly; he knew his instincts were right. 10 Downing Street
Kamble and Shirke climbed the police jeep hastily and
dashed off to meet Mrs. Rathore. With the siren ululating on the roof of their
jeep, they reached the bungalow within few minutes. As they were hurrying
through the main gates, they heard a loud gunshot, reverberating through the
hushed environment.
Kamble and Shirke covered the remaining distance in few
steps and reached the foyer. Sunita lay dead around a small pool of blood that
was oozing out of a single bullet wound on the side of her head.
A gun, which Shirke confirmed was an S&W pistol, lay
near Sunita’s dead body. A letter was lying nearby in which Sunita confessed to
ordering a hit on Jay Rathore. She also admitted that Jay’s signature on the
second will was taken without his knowledge and that she was extremely
distressed that her ploy had not worked. She did not want to spend the rest of
her life in prison wearing drab clothes. She would rather go in style.
Kamble knew that Sunita was not the real mastermind behind
the murder, she may have abetted it but no way could a dimwit lady like her,
plan an elaborate murder. But he had nothing to go on.
Prancing Pony aka Vikas Khanna
Vikas let himself out of the backdoor in the kitchen and
calmly walked in the narrow lane leading to the main road. He was humming a
tune but his head was buzzing with thoughts. He had met Jay as Vikas Khanna,
the gay Investment banker and finished him off, at the behest of his wife.
Sunita wanted Jay’s money and the freedom to marry Vikas. Initially his plan
was to befriend Jay and get his signature on the second will but Sunita managed
to do that when Jay was in intoxicated state. Then their plane changed and they
decided to kill him. But things were getting hot; the police had found Jay’s
number that would lead them to Vikas. So he had to get rid of Sunita, the only
living person who knew Vikas.
So who was the real Prancing Pony? Vikas had the same
maniac grin that he had after he had finished the serial killings and then
escaped unscathed. He was the messenger of death, the Grim Reaper.
