Murder On My Mind

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. Suddenly all activity around him halted; all policemen had eyes on him. He took out a cigarette which was shaped like a cigar, long and slender, put it under his nose, smelled it and put it back in its case.

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 were in my name. He was a generous husband.’

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 was where the Rathore Bungalow was located.

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.