Chapter 2: Only Friend
One early morning a few days after moving in with Virat, he and Aditya sat in the kitchen eating a hastily assembled breakfast of eggs and toast. Today was the day Aditya would make his first visit to the police station in an official capacity.
“So you want me to show you around the station when we get there?” Virat asked, reaching for an apple from the bowl in the center of the kitchen table and taking a large bite.
“Thanks, but I've got some other plans,” Aditya said, buttering his toast. “I'd requested Inspector Khurana to arrange a meeting with the officer in charge of the district.”
“That'll be Inspector Shahid Khan.” Virat managed to speak through his mouthful of apple. He swallowed and continued in a normal voice. “He's a decent guy. Doesn't say much, but he knows his job.”
“Right, well, I need to talk to him about some of the past cases. Any information he has about the current major players in the Delhi underworld scene would be helpful.” Aditya swallowed a forkful of scrambled egg before continuing. “I need to get an idea of the layout of the criminal elements of the city to decide where to start looking for X.”
“Let me know if you need my help,” Virat said, and Aditya nodded. Just then there was a knock on the door, and Payal Rastogi entered the kitchen. Payal was a girl who lived in the apartment above theirs. She had gone to school with Virat and had been one of the first people to welcome Aditya to Delhi.
“I'd hoped you two hadn't left yet.” She said with a smile. She had a round, dimpled face with her long black hair tied back in a ponytail. “I wanted to wish Aditya luck on his first day. I hope you get to solve a juicy murder and foil an assassination attempt on the prime minister.”
“Thanks.” Aditya grinned. “That's how I always hope my day goes. What'll you be up to today?”
“Nothing much, just typing away at my desk.” She replied with a sigh. Payal worked at a news channel as an assistant editor. “Today is grunt work day at the office.”
“Let's meet up at Lucky's for lunch,” Virat said to Payal. “And Aditya can tell you all about how grateful the prime minister was to him for saving his life.”
“Sounds great,” Payal said with a laugh. “I'll just be taking this.” She took an apple out of the bowl. “This'll be my breakfast today. I'm late. See you in the afternoon.”
She left, and Aditya shot an inquiring look at Virat. “So, what's the story with you two?”
“What do you mean?” Virat asked.
“What's going on between you and Payal?”
“Nothing,” Virat said with an attempt at a nonchalant air. “We're just friends.” He paused. “Besides, she'd broken up with her boyfriend pretty recently.”
“That could make things messy,” Aditya commented.
“It generally does,” Virat commented drily. “Any idea when you'll be through interrogating Khan? I want to know what you find out.”
“Shouldn't take too long,” Aditya said. “I'll probably be done with my questions by the afternoon.”
“Then give me a call, and I'll come pick you up and we'll go to Lucky's,” Virat said.
* * *
Aditya rode with Virat on his bike to the police station. Once they reached the station, Virat took off to the reporting cell while Aditya made his way to the Chief Inspector's office. He knocked on the door and entered to find Inspector Khurana busy with some papers.
“Come in, Officer Matthews.” Inspector Khurana said, laying down his pen and paper and straightening up from his desk. “So today you take up active duty at the station. How do you plan to proceed with your case?”
“I'd like to begin as soon as possible, sir,” Aditya said. “I was hoping I could talk to the inspector in charge about some of the open cases you're dealing with at the moment.”
“I have arranged for that.” Inspector Khurana said. “I will have someone show you around the city and answer any questions you have.” He paused as an inspector appeared in the doorway of the office and nodded to him. “Ah, yes. Come in, Shahid. You're right on time.”
Inspector Shahid Khan entered the room and came to stand next to Aditya. He looked to be in his thirties, with specks of grey hair in his hair and mustache, which were neatly trimmed. He saluted Inspector Khurana without looking at Aditya.
“This is Inspector Khan.” Inspector Khurana said. Shahid turned to nod briefly to Aditya before turning back to the chief. “Aditya is new to the station. I mentioned him to you a few days ago, I think.”
“I remember, sir.” Shahid inclined his head slightly.
“I want you to take Aditya with you when you go on your patrol today.” Inspector Khurana continued. “He needs to be acclimatized to the city. Help him in any way you can. Any questions he might have and so forth.”
Shahid nodded and turned to Aditya. “Shall we go?”
“Right. Thank you, sir.” Aditya saluted to Inspector Khurana and followed Khan out of the room. The two walked in silence across the station to the outside where a police car waited for Inspector Khan.
“Thanks for agreeing to help catch me up,” Aditya said at last, breaking the awkward silence.
“Just following orders,” Shahid said shortly. Two constables emerged from the car and saluted to Shahid. One was short and sallow while the other was tall and balding. The only common feature was the potbelly they both sported. “These are Sukhwinder and Shyam. They'll be sitting in the back today. And this is Officer Matthews. He's going to accompany us on patrol.” The two constables saluted to Aditya as well, their eyebrows raised in surprise as they noted his youthful appearance as well as the slight frown on Shahid's face. Sukhwinder and Shyam got in the back of the car while Shahid and Aditya sat in the front. Shahid started the engine and pulled the car out of the drive. Soon they were on the road.
“Saab, are you the new psychologist?” Sukhwinder asked, who had been studying Aditya intently.
“I'm the new criminal psychologist.” Aditya corrected him with a smile. “It's my first day.”
“I knew you were coming. There was talk in the office that there was a new department being added.” Shyam was also looking at him with interest. “That was you who brought in the killer in the Rohtak case a few days ago, wasn't it?”
“That was mostly detective Virat Joshi's work,” Aditya said quickly. “I just assisted him a bit.”
“That was pure negligence on the police team's part,” Shahid spoke up, his eyes on the road. “We would have caught him long before if the investigative team had the sense to start the investigations from Bhandipur rather than Rohtak.”
“I'm sure you would have,” Aditya said. “Even the police can make a few mistakes now and then.”
Shahid said nothing and continued to drive in silence as Sukhwinder and Shyam also fell silent.
“So, I wanted to ask you a few questions about your cases,” Aditya spoke again.
Shahid grunted, still not looking at him as he continued to drive in silence. This part of the investigation was proving trickier than Aditya had anticipated. He wondered what the inspector was annoyed about.
All through the journey, Aditya questioned Khan about his various cases in the area. Khan's replies were brief and to the point. Meanwhile, the sun beat down mercilessly on the car. They made two stops on their patrol. Once to talk to a jeweler who was receiving threatening phone calls and then a bus conductor who had been assaulted by a passenger who did not have a ticket.
An hour before lunch, Aditya had asked Shahid all the questions he could think of. He had also grown tired of Khan's increasingly curt replies and was getting ready to call Virat to pick him up for lunch.
“One last stop before we get back to the station,” Shahid said, turning the car away from the main road down a side lane. “This is Gunny street.”
Gunny was a shantytown in the remote parts of Azamgarh. Rows of houses were boxed together in a line curving inwards to the heart of the basti. An ancient water tower in the center was the only structure reaching higher than the second floor.
“You two stay in the car.” Khan glanced in the rearview mirror at the two constables as he brought the car to a stop. “You come with me.” He added, turning to Aditya.
Aditya was surprised by the invitation but complied. The two walked inwards through the basti, with Shahid checking a message on his mobile for the address they were seeking. Finally, they stopped outside a house slightly larger than the others and with a fresh coat of blue paint over the door.
“Are we looking up a lead on a case?” Aditya ventured to ask.
“Responding to a complaint,” Shahid said, staring straight ahead at the door. “A young man came to the station yesterday afternoon. He knows a girl who is being held against her will by her parents and being prevented from attending college.”
He raised a hand to knock again, but the door opened. A man emerged, gazing at them in surprise. He had a balding forehead with the side hairs neatly combed over the top, and the pencil mustache adorning his upper lip had been maintained with care.
“Yes, sir?” He asked Shahid.
“Are you Ramlal?” Shahid asked. “We received a complaint about you. Can we come in?”
“Of course.” Ramlal moved hurriedly to the side and ushered them into a sparsely furnished room with a single threadbare sleeping cot pushed up against the sidewall.
There was a perplexed frown on Ramlal's face as he faced them again. “I don't understand. Who complained about me?”
“A boy named Sujeet,” Shahid said. “He goes to college with your daughter Dolly.”
“That boy!” Ramlal's expression changed to one of anger. “He's up to new tricks now. He keeps harassing my daughter in class, saabji, and after I complained to the dean now he's trying to get me in trouble!”
“He said you're not allowing your daughter to go to college, and are holding her here against your will,” Shahid said, watching Ramlal closely.
“It's not true, Saabji.” Ramlal gazed pleadingly from Shahid to Aditya. “I would never do that to my daughter. You can ask her mother if I have ever tried to hurt her in any way. Malti!”
The wooden door at the back opened and a woman appeared, her face covered by a ghoonghat. She carried two glasses of water on a plate that she offered to Shahid and Aditya.
“Thank you,” Shahid said, accepting the glass. Aditya took a glass as well, and Malti went to stand next to her husband. Suddenly Aditya heard a faint sound that sounded like a whimper. He gazed around the room but saw nothing. He turned back to the couple.
“That boy has complained about us to the police.” Ramlal was telling Malti. “He told them we're not letting her go to college.”
“That is not true, saabji.” Malti raised her goonghat slightly and looked at them pleadingly. She was much younger than her husband. A large sindoor adorned her forehead. Her sari was old but neatly maintained. “We did scold her. She got angry and refused to go to class today. And the entire reason for the fight was that boy. We were thinking of lodging a complaint against him ourselves. He led her astray. She was an innocent girl. He gave her gifts and seduced her. Made her do god knows what. What were we to do?”
Again Aditya heard the faint whimper. He bent and peered under the cot to the side. A small dog was lying on its stomach, its head lowered to the ground. It was a mongrel of indeterminate breed, with ears drooping and a tufty winding tail whose end it was chewing on. It did not raise its head. As Aditya watched, it continued to chew on its bleeding tail. Patches of hair had fallen out of its coat onto the ground around it.
Aditya reached out to pet it, but suddenly it looked up and started to growl. It snapped at the outstretched fingers and let out a few shrill barks.
“Please be careful, Saabji.” Ramlal cautioned him. “That's Moti, Dolly's pet. She found him when he was a pup stuck in a sewer and nursed him back to health. He always sleeps under her cot.”
Aditya withdrew his fingers, and the dog whimpered, lowering its head and again began to chew on its tail.
“We are poor farm folk from Bhudaun, Saabji.” Ramlal continued, joining his hands together before Shahid and gazing at him pleadingly. “We came to the city to try to make an honest living after work in our village dried up. You know how bold these city boys are. You read about them in the papers all the time in the village. They have a hundred tricks they use on girls. And if the girl rejects them they throw acid at their faces. Who would marry our girl if she was disfigured? We couldn't take the risk.”
“We have nothing valuable in our house except our daughter, Sahib,” Malti added, her voice tearful. “My husband runs a small paanshop. I sweep the floors and wash the dishes in the houses in Jayant Nagar. We just want to be left alone to live in peace. We didn't even want to go to the police. We hoped the incident would be over once my husband had spoken to the principal. We never wanted any trouble. We don't have anything more important than our self-respect. All that boy cares about is making us suffer for making Dolly stay away from him.”
“If the boy is creating trouble, rest assured he will be dealt with properly.” Shahid said.“But for now, I'd like to meet your daughter.”
“She's gone to a baarat.” Malti said. “Her friend's sister is getting married. It's her mehndi rasam today.”
“That's pretty convenient.” Shahid's eyebrows were raised. “For your own sake, I hope you're not lying. How do I know she isn't being kept locked up somewhere? How do I know you haven't sent her back to your village to be married off?”
“I would never do that, Sirji.” Ramlal looked even more distressed. “We brought her here so she could get an education! I am a poor, illiterate man, but I wanted my daughter to have the opportunities I never did.”
“Then let me talk to her,” Shahid repeated. “I'll need more evidence on this matter than what you tell me.”
“I'm not lying, saab. You can ask the people whose daughter went with her to the mehndi.” Ramlal beckoned Shahid and Aditya to follow him. A crowd had gathered outside the house. Ramlal led them all three doors down to the right and knocked on another wooden door. The crowd following a few steps back observed the proceedings with interest, whispering among themselves.
A short, round-faced man opened the door, his eyes widening in surprise to see the crowd outside.
“Bala, tell the inspector where my daughter is,” Ramlal said before the man could open his mouth.
“Your daughter?” Bala looked perplexed as he looked from Ramlal to Shahid. “She's gone to her friend's house with Pinky. It's a marriage function of some sort, isn't it?”
“Inspector Saab doesn't believe me,” Ramlal said, holding out his hands and looking around at the crowd beseechingly. “He thinks I'm trying to stop her from talking to him.”
“Kamala mausi saw them, too,” Bala said, spying out a shriveled old woman in the crowd. “Did you see Dolly and Pinky come back, mausiji?”
“Still gallivanting around the city,” Mausiji shouted back. “Not studying like they should be.”
“I'll still need to talk to her,” Shahid said firmly. “To make sure she isn't being held against her will in any way.”
Ramlal looked troubled. “I'm sorry we can't bring her to meet you right now. We can bring her to the police station tomorrow. Or perhaps you can ask her on the phone?” He fumbled around in his pocket and brought out an old, cheap mobile. Dialing quickly, he handed the phone to Shahid.
“Hello.” A voice appeared over the phone. Youthful and feminine, with a Bihari accent. In the background came the sounds of a band blaring Bhojpuri music.
“Is this Dolly?” Shahid asked, raising his voice slightly.
“Yes, who is this?”
“My name is Inspector Khan. Do you know a boy named Sujeet?”
“He's my classmate, saabji.” The girl said.
“He asked us to check up on you. Are your parents being unkind to you? Did they ever hit you?”
“No, saabji.” The indignation in the voice increased. “They told me to tell them if Sujeet bothers me again. But he's my friend. He's not doing any harm. I've told them a hundred times he-”
“Are you happy staying with your parents?” Shahid broke in before the girl could launch into a defence of her friend. “You can be completely honest with me. Do you feel safe at home?”
“Yes. I'm at a mehndi baraat right now.”
Shahid disconnected the call and sighed. The crowd had been silent so far, but they all spoke now in a rush, explaining and gesticulating, eager to convey to Shahid their take on Ramlal and his family problems.
Aditya took a step back from the chattering crowd, all wanting to talk to the visiting policeman. He walked over to a house that had a cycle standing outside it. Strapped to the cycle's back seat was a brand new shiny barrel that seemed at odds with the grubby appearance of the house and the cycle. He read the label. Sulphuric acid. Suddenly he saw an old woman watching him from inside the window of the house. Their eyes met, and the woman motioned for him to wait. She hobbled out of the house, leaning heavily on a stick and gesticulating with a knobbly hand.
“There's no water in the tank.” The old woman said, coming up to him. “When are you going to fix it?”
“What?” Aditya asked, taken aback.
“The water tank.” The old woman said pettishly. She pointed in the distance to the ancient water tank looming over the basti. “Two weeks without fresh water. And my poor girl has to go a mile to the municipality truck to fill two buckets! What are you going to do about it?”
“Amma, they are not plumbers.” A young man with a bandaged hand had broken away from the crowd around Shahid. He walked quickly over to the old woman, laying an arm on her shoulder.
“Eh?” The woman glared at Aditya beadily.
“They're policemen, amma.” The man said soothingly, trying to lead her back to the house. “They're here asking about Dolly.”
“Aye, she was a brazen girl.” The old woman said solemnly. “It's this fancy city air they inhale. It turns their heads right around! A city is no place to raise a girl. In my time, if I had behaved that way in my village, I would have been beaten black and blue with a cane and locked away in a room without food or water for a week. That's the only thing that does the trick with youngsters.”
“I'm sure it worked wonders,” Aditya said politely. The man led the old woman away as she continued to mumble.
Suddenly Aditya's phone rang. He saw it was Virat, and moved to a quiet corner next to a telephone pole to take the call.
“Where are you?” Virat's voice appeared over the phone. “Are you done talking to Shahid?”
“Yeah, I've found out what I could,” Aditya said. “I'm in a town called Gunny.”
“I know the place. I'm nearby, actually. Wait for me, I'll be there in a few minutes.”
“Right.” Aditya disconnected the call and noticed the young man with the bandaged hand hovering nearby. This time there was an older man with him.
“Sirji, my son told me what my mother said to you.” The older man said, stepping closer to Aditya with his hands joined before him. “I wanted to apologize on her behalf. Her mind is almost gone these days. But she didn't mean to insult you.”
“That's okay,” Aditya said. “I'm not angry or anything.” Shahid came out of Ramlal's house and made his way towards the three.
Aditya addressed the man's son. “What's your name?”
“Brijesh, sirji. I work at the textile factory near the sabzimandi.” The youth pointed to the east of the basti.
“I see. By the way, did Dolly's dog do that to you?” Aditya asked, motioning towards his hand.
Brijesh looked momentarily startled. “Yes, sirji. He nearly bit my hand off.”
“He's a vicious animal.” Brijesh's father chimed in. “Barks and bites at everyone in the basti.”
“You should get the wound checked. Might be rabies.” Shahid said, walking up to the group. “The dog seemed pretty out of it.”
Brijesh nodded vigorously. “I was going to go to the clinic in Bamrauli today.” Shahid nodded to the father and son and steered Aditya towards the police car.
“We'll be leaving soon.” He said. “As soon as Sukhwinder gets a written statement from Ramlal about Sujeet.”
“I was talking to detective Virat.” Aditya said. “He's coming here as well. Before we wrap this case up I'd like to thank you for answering my questions this morning.”
.
Shahid grunted, not looking at him.
Aditya stared at him for a moment. “Have I done something to upset you?”
“Upset me?” Shahid's eyebrow raised.
“You've been distant all morning, to say the least,” Aditya said. “I'm not sure what I've done to create a bad impression, considering this is the first time we've ever met.”
“You mean your psychological abilities haven't helped you figure it out?” There was a frown on Shahid's face when he finally turned to look at Aditya. “There's a reason I wanted you to accompany me on this case. To show you what I have to deal with in my job every day. Paan sellers and bus conductors. And sweepers and maids. What can your psychological profiling do to help me in this situation? What can a college kid talking about the subconscious do to make sense of the mess I deal with daily?”
Shahid paused, staring at Aditya with the frown on his face more pronounced than ever.
“I'm sorry you feel this way,” Aditya said quietly. “I'm just following orders like you. I'm not interested in making your job any more difficult.”
“Do you believe everyone in this police station is a moron?” Shahid demanded. “I know you're not really here to play mental doctor with criminals. Whatever you're supposed to be doing here, I haven't been informed about it. You've been thrust on my department by my superiors, and they didn't have the courtesy to give me an actual reason. The chief inspector won't tell me the truth. You won't tell me the truth. But I'm still supposed to take you all across the city and answer every one of your hundred questions. And then you ask me what I'm upset about!”
Shahid turned abruptly and walked away, back to Ramlal's house. Aditya did not try to follow him. He slowly made his way over to the center of the basti, where the ancient water tank lay. He took off his glasses and began to polish them, gazing up at the tower with a frown until he heard a bike pull up behind him. He turned to see Virat getting off his bike.
“Ready to go?” Virat asked as he came up to him. “Have you wrapped things up here?”
“Shahid's talking to Ramlal right now,” Aditya said.
“What about?” Virat asked. Aditya told him about the complaint and the subsequent investigation.
“Well, then there's nothing more to do here,” Virat said. “Payal's waiting at Lucky's, and I think Shahid will be glad not to have you hanging around his neck like Vetaal for the rest of the day.”
“Look, I'll take the bike and meet Payal at the restaurant,” Aditya said in a low voice. “You stay here and carry on with the case.”
Virat stared at him in surprise. “What are you talking about? The case is closed. We can't press any charges if the girl won't testify against her parents or the boy.”
“Listen to me.” Aditya's voice grew urgent. “You need to continue with the investigation. Ask around the other houses. Try to get an idea of exactly what happened here last night. I'd stay to do it, but Khan doesn't want me here. I don't want him to be distracted by my presence. You need to trust me on this.”
Virat stared at him for a long moment. Finally, he nodded, handing the keys of his bike to Aditya as the two parted ways.
* * *
Lucky's was a small but comfortably furnished restaurant located a block away from the building where Payal's office was. Aditya parked the bike outside the restaurant and entered through the glass doorway. Soft music played in the background, and it was a relief to step inside the air-conditioned room, away from the morning's searing heat. He spied Payal sitting at the back of the room nursing a cup of tea, her back to the door.
“Hey,” Aditya said, taking the seat opposite her.
“Oh. Hi.” Payal looked up and stared at him in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“Slight change of plans. I'm going to keep you company while Virat takes my place on a case.”
“Oh.” Payal paused. “That's great, then.”
“Spoken with just the right amount of restrained enthusiasm.” Aditya grinned. “I can't replace Virat, but I'll try my best to fill the role.”
Payal laughed, a hint of a blush on her face. “It's not like that.”
“That's okay, I'm just kidding.” Aditya reached out for the pitcher of water and a glass. “It's pretty difficult to make friends in a busy city like Delhi.”
“Exactly.” Payal agreed. “And I've known Virat since we were kids. We were classmates all through school. Then I went to Miranda while he joined the police academy. We fell out of touch except the occasional Facebook birthday greeting. You know how it is.” Aditya nodded. “Then came the time when I was just starting out in the new office. There were a dozen other interns like me trying to get noticed. I wasn't getting leads on any interesting cases. Then I found out that Virat had started work as a sub detective in Delhi. I called to meet him and badgered him for information for an entire evening. We got back in touch again a long time. It was good to get a school friend back after everyone else from that time had scattered. He told me about the apartment above his being empty, and I moved in.”
The waiter arrived as Payal finished her story, and they gave their orders. Payal smiled at Aditya as the waiter left. “So there you have it. My account of how I wound up in Hakikat Nagar. What about you? You're from Allahabad, right?”
“Yeah.” Aditya leaned back in his chair. “I'd visited Delhi before, but this is the first time I'm making an extended stay. Now I understand why it's called India's melting pot. There are so many people migrating here every year from every corner of the country. The case I was involved in today took me to a town where the residents were all from the same village of Bihar.”
“That happens often here.” Payal nodded. “Villagers tend to travel in groups. They don't really trust the city folk, and the sad thing is, their distrust is often justified. At my office, I've heard so many stories of villagers being abducted and sold into human slavery and prostitution.”
“And all those people are too afraid to approach the police,” Aditya said.
“Can you blame them?” Payal asked. “A rich man gets into an argument at a traffic signal, and it's his driver who'll get manhandled by the police. A girl is promised education and boarding in the city, and instead, she's put to work sweeping the floors and cooking food. Whenever there's a crime the police always takes the side of the rich guy.”
“That's where I come in.” Aditya sighed. “The scary policeman who's looking for an excuse to throw them in jail. At least, that's what they think. That's why I miss Allahabad. People were more willing to have faith in each other there.”
“It's not all bad,” Payal said with a laugh. “It can be pretty grim for the police, always dealing with the worst of humanity. But can you honestly say the people of Delhi are any worse than those of other cities?”
Aditya was silent for a long time, staring abstractedly into the distance. He finally looked at Payal with a smile.
“Human nature is the same everywhere.” He admitted at last with a shrug. “But I don't relish seeing it up close in all its ugly detail. Textbooks allow you to keep a dispassionate distance from it all.” He took out his mobile and opened the internet browser. “What you said about the police favoring the rich is true. But it wouldn't be wise to paint all the village immigrants as innocent victims either. Hatred and cruelty aren't specific to one particular class of humanity.”
“Or a short attention span,” Payal remarked. “Is our conversation so boring you decided to check your Facebook account?” Aditya smiled at her apologetically.
“Not at all.” He showed her the Wikipedia page he had opened. “I was checking out the uses of sulphuric acid.” He turned the screen back to face him and continued to scan the page. “There's a point that needs clearing up. The last nail in a very ugly coffin, so to speak.” He paused, opening a few linked pages. His expression darkened as he read the information displayed. Payal watched him with raised eyebrows as their food was placed on the table.
Aditya sighed and exited the net, typing a brief message before putting the phone back in his pocket.
* * *
“I was always afraid she was going to take our daughter astray as well.” Bala's wife was speaking rapidly to Virat. “She was always a rotten girl. Rotten to the core. But I raised my Pinky better. She always listened to her mother first, and she'd tell me all the wrong things Dolly was telling her in college. I ask you, what sort of respectable girl would roam around on a bike with a boy she barely knows-”
“Yes, yes, I see.” Virat nodded, edging away slowly. “Well, I have to...” He moved rapidly away from the excited woman and made his way back to Shahid. It was time to close the case. No complaint against Ramlal from Dolly, possible complaint against Sujeet from Ramlal. Suddenly his mobile buzzed. He took it out and saw a new message from Aditya. His eyebrows raised in surprise as he read the text.
“Let's go, Virat,” Shahid called out to him from Ramlal's doorway. “We're done here. We need to get back to the station.”
Virat nodded. He hesitated, staring at the screen. “I just need to check something first.”
Before Shahid could respond, Virat had turned away. He made his way rapidly towards the water tank.
“Where are you going, Sahab?” Brijesh called out, the fear evident in his voice as he ran up to him.
Virat ignored him and continued on his way. Everyone in the basti had come out of their house, but no one spoke except Brijesh, who continued to plead with Virat to stop.
Virat reached the ladder next to the water tank and began to climb. The ancient metal structure creaked and groaned, but did not break. Virat reached the top of the tower. The huge lid of the water tank was sealed shut by a shiny new lock.
Virat took out his gun and took aim. A single deafening shot rang out around the basti, and the lock exploded. Virat removed the remains of the lock and with an effort, lifted the lid.
A blast of dank, musty air hit Virat's nostrils. But combined with it was a much more terrible odor. The smell of rotting flesh. The body of a young girl lay inside the tank. She had clearly been dead for a long time.
Virat stared at the body for a moment. He turned to look down at Shahid. “I found Dolly. She's dead.” A ripple of murmurs broke out among the crowd. “Don't let her parents get away.” Shahid had been watching Virat in open-mouthed amazement. But now he turned and gave rapid orders to Shyam and Sukhwinder.
Virat climbed down from the tower to the ground. The constables had arrested Ramlal and his wife and were dragging them to the police car.
“Better take Brijesh, too.” Virat said, pointing to the young man, who stood pale and terrified, his eyes darting from Ramlal to Shahid. “Let's find out exactly why he didn't want me to go up the tower.” Shahid pointed his gun at Brijesh and he froze, raising his hands shakily.
“How the hell did you know?” Shahid asked Virat even as he kept his gun trained on Brijesh.
“I didn't,” Virat said, holding up his mobile. “I got this.” The screen displayed a message from Aditya: Dolly's corpse is in the water tank.
* * *
That evening Payal and Aditya sat talking at the table in the kitchen in Virat's apartment. The two had gotten to know each other a lot better that day. Aditya was filling her in on the details of the Gunny town case, and she was listening with growing amazement when Virat and Shahid entered the room.
The frown on Shahid's face had disappeared and replaced by a mystified expression. He and Virat sat down opposite Aditya and Payal. Shahid was staring at Aditya, who stared blandly back. “Did Ramlal confess?”
“He did,” Virat said. “Once we found the body he came clean about everything.”
“How did you know?” Shahid spoke at last, still staring at Aditya. “How did you know the girl had been murdered and put in the water tank?”
Aditya studied him for a moment before he spoke. “The dog told me.”
The confusion deepened on Shahid's face. “What?”
“It was lying under the girls' sleeping cot,” Aditya said. “It showed several symptoms of depression. Hair falling out in patches. Chewing on its own tail till it bled. Alternating between listlessness and anger. It was clearly experienced a traumatic event recently.”
“Animals don't get depressed.”
“Of course they do. They have the ability to process loss just as much as we do. The dog was there when the girl was murdered by her father, probably in a fit of rage. The dog was there when Brijesh carried the body to the water tank. That's when it bit him. The only person who had ever been kind to Moti was killed violently in front of him. He'd been suffering from post-trauma stress ever since.”
“What about all the people who said they'd seen Dolly leave for the baraat?” Shahid asked.
“That was the other clue.” Aditya leaned back in his chair. “They all chimed in with their alibis for Ramlal. Like they'd been instructed to. And all were quick to tell us what a characterless girl Dolly was. They were all in it. The entire basti. It's impossible to hide your personal life with everyone living on top of one another in a cramped space. When a group of people migrates to a city, they stick close together and hold on even more tightly to their traditional beliefs, no matter how regressive. They knew the girl had started seeing Sujeet. Maybe they believed the two had had sex. They saw it as a disgrace to the entire community's honor. They knew the father had killed her daughter, and for them, the honor of the community was more important than the life of the girl. So they all arranged to cover up the crime. The empty water tank made for an ideal hiding place for the body at short notice. Brijesh brought the barrel of sulfuric acid from the factory where he worked yesterday. They only had to make you listen to a girl's voice, probably the daughter of their neighbor, the girl called Pinky. They planned to dissolve the body in the tank tonight. I imagine they were going to say the girl ran away if you ever showed up at the basti again.”
There was a silence following the speech. Shahid continued to study Aditya with a frown.
“Did you get Brijesh?” Payal asked Virat.
“Yeah, he's in lockup,” Virat said. “He panicked and came clean about everything. Said Ramlal knew Sujeet would go to the police, and so he cooked up this whole plan to divert suspicion. He's still going to jail for aiding a criminal.”
“That poor girl,” Payal said in a low voice. “Her own parents. To think the only friend she had in her home was that little dog.”
Aditya nodded soberly. “I know. Even after I sent the message to Virat, a part of me was hoping I'd be proved wrong.”
“I should go,” Shahid said abruptly, rising to his feet. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes on Aditya. But then he turned without a word towards the door.
Virat accompanied Shahid to the stairway outside the doorway. The inspector stopped at the top of the staircase and stood staring at the opposite wall for a long moment.
“Your friend there,” Shahid said at last, turning to Virat. “That fellow Matthews. He solved a murder case by diagnosing a dog with depression.”
Virat nodded, trying not to smile. “Well, yeah.” Shahid sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned to leave.
“There might be something to this psychology business after all...”
