An invitation to die, p.4
An Invitation to Die, page 4
5
‘How can the van disappear? It’s not a sock or a stray pen, or a piece of jewellery, to go missing without anyone noticing.’ Violet’s voice was shrill with annoyance. They were at the breakfast table the next morning. It was 9 a.m. and the lady had woken up with a headache. Late nights didn’t suit her any more, although she refused to accept the fact. The few servings of her favourite gin-and-ginger punch had added to the headache. The news of the missing van had done nothing to improve her mood. ‘It couldn’t have driven off by itself, could it? And why didn’t you call the police when you realized it was missing?’
‘I assumed you had driven it home,’ Pia explained patiently. ‘It was only after I reached home and found it missing from the porch that I realized something was wrong. But it was too late to wake you or call the police. Besides, I was too exhausted to do anything.’
‘It was foolish of you to assume that I had driven the van home. I am not senile enough to leave you high and dry at Bhandari Villa. Claire dropped me home. I would have informed you if I was driving back.’
Unwilling to add fodder to her grandmother’s irritation, Pia didn’t point out that the old lady had been a bit too tipsy to remember anything about last night. Much to her granddaughter’s disquiet, Violet had imbibed a couple of goblets of punch.
‘How could I drive away without taking the key from you?’ demanded the lady, her eyes blazing. A sudden thought hit her and she narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t tell me you forgot to lock the van.’
‘Ramsar is such a safe place that I never lock the van,’ Pia said, hanging her head sheepishly as she toyed with her breakfast. ‘I am sorry, Gumma, it was careless of me.’
‘Did you forget to apply the handbrake?’
‘Of course I didn’t,’ retorted the young girl. ‘I haven’t forgotten the basics of hill-driving. Now, don’t shout at me, please. Not so early in the morning. I said I am sorry.’
‘I have been using that tin box for decades and never have I forgotten to lock the van. You use it for one day and look what happens.’
‘Gumma, please stop shouting. It’s not good for your blood pressure. How many times should I say I am sorry?’
‘Well, don’t sit there and apologize. Call the police station and report the theft.’ Violet shook her finger at the girl. ‘Better still, call the young chap. What’s his name?’ She snapped her fingers in an irritated manner. Her memory was playing games that morning. The hangover didn’t help anyway.
‘Which young man are you talking about?’ Pia raised her left eyebrow enquiringly.
‘I mean the young police officer who was following you around last night.’
‘You mean Timothy Thapa? For your information, he was not following me around. He’s too decent to do that,’ grumbled the granddaughter as she scrolled through the contact list on her phone. Tim had obliged her with his number when he visited the café.
She dialled. His number was busy.
‘Go to the police station and meet him,’ ordered Violet. ‘It will do you good to take a walk.’
‘Gumma, I have a café to run. I can’t be walking to the police station now,’ objected Pia. ‘I will try his number a few minutes later.’
Five minutes later, just as she was finishing her coffee, the phone rang. Glancing at the caller’s name, she answered, ‘Hi, Tim.’
Violet suppressed a smile as she perked up her ears to hear the conversation.
‘What are you saying, Tim?’ Pia’s horrified exclamation reached her grandmother. The girl’s face had paled. ‘A dead body in my van? How’s that even possible?’
‘What’s he saying?’ Violet demanded to know.
‘I will be there,’ said Pia, raising her hand to quieten her grandmother, who was fidgeting in her seat. ‘No, I don’t have a vehicle.’
Violet strained her ears to hear Tim’s reply. Minutes later, Pia ended the call, saying, ‘Thank you! That will be nice.’
Turning an ashen face towards her grandmother, Pia said, ‘They have found a dead body inside our van, which was pushed down the edge of the road. Tim is coming to pick me up. I have to go.’
‘Oh, my God! A dead body in my van? How did it get there?’ Violet shook her head. After the initial shock of Pia’s words wore off, she let out her steam. ‘It just goes to show that you can’t leave your car unlocked these days. Not even in Ramsar. You are likely to pay a heavy price for the carelessness, my dear.’ Leaning on her walking stick, she stood up and said, ‘You are not going alone. I will accompany you to the place.’
Noting the grim lines on her grandmother’s face, Pia knew a storm was waiting to break. Violet had no scruples about ticking off people. Sometimes without reason. ‘No, Gumma, you are not coming with me,’ she objected.
‘Try and stop me,’ Violet countered, her jaw set at a stubborn angle. ‘I won’t allow the police to haul you over burning coals just because you were careless enough to leave the van unlocked.’
‘No one has accused me of anything. Not yet, anyway. I don’t see why you should accompany me. For God’s sake, I am a grown-up and I can deal with such situations.’ Although she knew Violet was unbending once her mind was made up, Pia tried once more.
‘That’s what you think … I am going with you and that’s final. So, don’t you—’
Just then the doorbell rang, interrupting them.
‘Good morning, Mrs Williams,’ Tim greeted the lady cheerfully. ‘Good morning, Pia.’
‘I am ready,’ said Pia, picking up her bag.
‘So am I,’ Violet declared.
‘No, you are not coming with us,’ the girl said, putting out a hand to stop her grandmother.
‘I agree with Pia. You shouldn’t take the trouble of visiting the accident site,’ Tim told the adamant lady. ‘It’s just a minor procedure and Pia’s presence should be enough. All she has to do is identify the van in which the body was found.’
‘It is my van, young man. I am the owner. Technically, you should be taking me and not Pia.’ Violet tapped her walking stick impatiently on the floor.
‘Well…’ Tim hesitated.
Without pausing for a reply, Violet walked towards the police vehicle and waited for the police officer to help her into it. A couple of minutes later, having clambered heavily to the co-driver’s seat, she sat staring ahead. Resolute and stone-faced. Tim smiled and shook his head.
With an exasperated sigh, Pia shrugged her shoulders and got into the vehicle. As they approached the site, they saw that a small crowd had gathered on the road. Everyone was peering down into the ravine where a crane was at work. An ambulance stood waiting near it, and the accident site had been cordoned off.
Tim parked the police vehicle near the tow truck, which had been summoned to winch the van once the police had finished with their task. The crowd of curious onlookers switched their attention to Pia and whispered among themselves.
‘Violet’s granddaughter was driving the van last night,’ mumbled a man. ‘She must have parked the van carelessly, and it went down the slope.’
‘Isn’t she the girl who runs the coffee shop?’ asked his companion.
‘Get back, get back,’ shouted Constable Sharad Pant, aka Shirt Pant, waving his stick to emphasize the words. ‘Make way for the police.’
The crowd parted obediently to allow Tim and Pia to make their way to the spot where the van had come to a stop after plunging down the steep slope into the gorge, its descent arrested by a large boulder. Violet remained at the edge of the precipice, staring ruefully at the badly damaged vehicle. Its windscreen was in smithereens.
With a hand from Tim, Pia went down the slope.
‘Careful,’ he warned her. ‘Don’t touch those innocuous-looking shrubs. They are quite deadly.’
Pia clung closer to the officer as she picked her way carefully towards the spot where the van had nosedived.
The doctor and a few police personnel were already at the site and bustling around. The photographer shot pictures of the body, vehicle and the surrounding area, while a forensic expert busied himself with the other details.
The colonel, who was one of the first to arrive, was hovering around the area, examining the van and its surroundings, his keen eyes missing nothing. A wave of nausea swept over Pia as she looked at the corpse, which had been extricated from the driver’s seat and laid on the ground. The face was a bloody mess, and the clothes were splattered with blood. The area around the van reeked of petrol, which had spilled from the damaged petrol tank.
Her mouth felt like paper and her knees buckled. Instinctively, she gripped Tim’s arm and turned her head away.
‘You don’t have to look at the body,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Just identify the van and I will take you back.’
‘It is my grandmother’s van,’ she whispered. ‘But I don’t know the dead man.’
They stood side by side, Pia’s face averted from the scene.
After checking the body temperature, and estimating lividity and rigor mortis, the doctor gave his opinion. ‘According to the preliminary physical examination, I find the deceased suffered maxillofacial trauma that has resulted in nasal and maxillary fractures.’
‘Can you put it in simpler words?’ requested the colonel, who was looking at the areas pointed out by the doctor.
‘To put it simply, the nose as well as the frontal teeth are broken due to the impact of the crash. There is laceration of the face and contusion in the chest region because of the body being slammed into the steering wheel.’
‘Is it possible for you to establish the cause of death? I know that it takes an autopsy to provide the details.’
‘I can only make a guess.’ The doctor smiled. ‘From the preliminary examination of the body, it appears the death was caused by shock and haemorrhage because of multiple head and chest injuries. It is difficult to give a precise reading at this stage. The details can be determined only after an autopsy has been conducted,’ concluded the doctor.
‘Could you give us the time of death?’ Tim asked.
‘The exact time of death cannot be given at this stage, but taking into account the stage of rigor mortis, I would say it occurred about ten to fourteen hours back.’
‘It is around 9.30 a.m. now,’ said the colonel, glancing at his wristwatch. ‘Would that mean the death took place between 7.30 and 11.30 p.m.?’
‘Yes. But that’s just an approximation. The autopsy report will provide a closer estimate,’ the doctor hurried to clarify.
‘Since the deceased was a guest at the Bhandari party, do you think he was drunk enough to have driven the van off the road?’
‘I detected a strong smell of alcohol, but only an autopsy can determine how much alcohol the deceased had taken.’
‘Thank you, Doctor, I think the mystery of the death will be solved only after we receive the autopsy report.’
‘My job is over for the moment. You can send the body for a post-mortem,’ said the doctor, pulling the cover over the dead man’s face. ‘The sooner the better, I would say.’
‘I will do that immediately,’ said Tim. He gestured to the ambulance crew to take away the body.
‘Has the deceased been identified?’ the colonel wanted to know.
‘The deceased is Deepak Dabral. A mariner by profession, he was a colleague of Rohan Bhandari. Dabral was here to attend the wedding reception. The Bhandaris had put him up at Hotel Misty Meadows along with his wife and a few other guests,’ Tim informed Acharya. ‘In fact, the wife, assisted by a few guests, lodged a police complaint about the missing man.’
‘Who discovered the body?’ asked the colonel.
‘This morning, we received a tip from a young shepherd who was collecting bichhu buti… ’
‘Bichhu buti?’ Pia looked perplexed.
‘It’s a common perennial plant that grows wild throughout the Himalayan region. The locals of this place use it for medicinal purposes,’ Tim educated the girl. ‘It was the shepherd who informed Sharad about the van and he rushed here.’ Noticing the confusion on Pia’s face, Tim elaborated, ‘Sharad Pant aka Shirt Pant is an overzealous constable who loves wielding authority on the simple folks of the town.’
‘Is that the constable?’ She pointed at Shirt Pant, who was strutting around importantly. From time to time, he hollered at the crowd and used his stick to push them back from the precipice.
Yes, that’s the one.’ With an amused smile dancing on his face, Tim added, ‘He’s a chap with an unbeatable sense of importance.’
‘What time did Sharad arrive at this spot?’
‘He was here at 8 a.m.,’ Tim replied.
‘When did the police station receive the report about Dabral’s disappearance?’
‘It was reported at 6 a.m. this morning.’
‘That was fast work, I must say. Has the wife been informed of her husband’s death?’ asked Acharya.
‘Yes, we have informed the wife as well as the Bhandaris, and they have identified the body. Mrs Nisha Dabral was inconsolable after hearing of her husband’s death. The doctor had to give her a sedative to calm her.’
‘Is she still at the hotel?’
‘No, they have shifted her to a guest room at Bhandari Villa. The Bhandaris refused to let her stay at the hotel in her present condition.’
‘Did anyone notice Dabral slipping out of the party last night?’
‘Colonel, when there are 200 guests enjoying unrestricted access to alcohol, it is unlikely that anyone will observe a guy slipping out of the party. This is especially true if he is the inconspicuous type. The deceased, with his dark suit and unremarkable personality, was not very noticeable.’
‘What about his wife? Wasn’t she with him?’
‘According to Nisha Dabral, he was circulating among his friends while she sat at one spot with a couple of ladies.’
‘What does his wife look like?’
‘She is around 5 feet 4 inches, slender and very attractive,’ Tim described with a twinkle in his eyes.
‘Now, how did I miss her? I can miss an inconspicuous guy but to miss an attractive lady … it’s unpardonable.’
‘Truly unpardonable, Colonel,’ said Tim, tongue firmly in cheek.
‘I hardly notice strangers at a party,’ Pia said, shaking her head. ‘I mean, one is too busy enjoying the party to pay attention to people one doesn’t know.’
‘Mon chére! When you are a sleuth by hobby, you carry the microscope of your observation everywhere. Even at a party. It’s a nasty habit, of course,’ Acharya said, chuckling.
Tim bristled silently. He was fond of the colonel and had great regard for his observation powers, but he resented the colonel’s habit of stealing the thunder from under his nose. Here he was, trying to impress Pia, and the man was hogging her attention.
‘I would like to speak to Mrs Dabral once the effect of the sedative has worn off,’ the colonel said as Tim and Pia accompanied him back to where Violet was waiting in the police vehicle.
‘I have asked the Bhandaris to call me the moment she is awake.’
‘There are so many questions on my mind. Why did Dabral wander off from the party? Did his wife not notice his absence through the night? What was he doing in Pia’s van?’ muttered the colonel. ‘Was he inebriated enough to take off in the van by himself?’
‘That’s exactly the point,’ Tim responded. ‘I have also been trying to figure out why Dabral was in the driver’s seat.’
‘I wonder if he was trying to move the van to make it easier for a neighbouring car to move out of its parking space?’ Tim pondered.
‘But the guests hadn’t arrived when I parked the van, so I couldn’t be blocking anyone,’ Pia objected.
‘You have a point,’ Acharya stroked his chin thoughtfully and said. ‘What puzzles me is that the van went straight down the slope. It could have turned turtle or on its side.’
‘It was dark, so he may have driven the van right off the road and lost control,’ Tim suggested.
‘That’s impossible!’ Pia said. ‘The ignition key was with me. The van couldn’t have been started without the key.’
‘My dear, there are ways of starting a vehicle without a key, but we won’t go into that now. I think the issue needs thorough study. Let’s go to the police station and put our heads together over it,’ suggested the colonel.
‘That’s a good idea,’ agreed Tim. ‘I have to give a detailed report to the deputy superintendent of police.’
‘Haven’t you informed him of the accident?’
‘I did that as soon as we received a report of the van lying in the ravine, but Bulldog is expecting me to get back with details about the deceased’s identity and other elements.’
Bulldog was what Tim called the DSP in private. In fact, all of the DSP’s buddies at the police academy called him by that epithet. It was a fitting one. Thick of build and short-limbed with broad shoulders, a short neck and broad jaw, the DSP resembled a bulldog, the colonel agreed.
Telling Sharad Pant to remain on the spot till further instruction, Tim left for his office with Violet and Pia in the police vehicle, while the colonel followed in his car.
6
The busiest place in the tiny Himalayan town of Ramsar was around the milestone at the central bus stand. With the nearest railhead at Kathgodam, buses of all sizes, SUVs and taxis were the preferred modes of transportation. The few roads that went through the town radiated from that point.
The adjoining bazaar, a favourite hangout of the locals, was a modest clutch of shops that stocked things essential for a simple life. For the fancier stuff, one had to travel to Almora, which took a leisurely two hours by bus. For those in a hurry, there were packed SUVs driven by reckless drivers, who were great believers in karma. When death had to come, it would come anyway was their philosophy. They kept up their spirits with this belief, aided by a dose of the local brew.
Apart from its quaint atmosphere, Ramsar boasted a Victorian clubhouse that had seen better days. Although it was strictly for those who wished to spend time in the company of owls and bats, nevertheless it was a club. Then there was a nine-hole golf course, which attracted the likes of the retired colonel and a few people of eminence. There was also a ramshackle movie hall and an eatery that went by a misnomer, Tasty Bites. The thick clump of trees that surrounded Tasty Bites and the beautiful sight to the north—of the rolling slopes and snow-clad peaks of the Himalayas—were its major draw.
