Prologue:
Prashant Nimkar,
D.C.P, Mumbai.
Zone 1
They say life is the best teacher one can have, because life constantly keeps teaching us new lessons. Today was one such day, where I learnt judiciary can be very unjust in itself if the servants of it are corrupt, ignorant and unfaithful towards their duty and towards the one they serve.
I learnt this lesson right here, in the police headquarters while investigating 3 possible murders. Then I didn’t know that I would be the only witness to the 4th one.
Back then, I didn’t know I would witness justice being served.
Mother Oh Mother!
Zone 1,
Police Headquarters,
Mumbai.
The commissioner Mr.Bijay Patra, a veteran of the forces now, always had problems controlling his anger they said & this morning, he had been in a rather furious mood, which was evident from his continuous drinking. He loved his cognac and always carried around the little flask that contained it, wherever he went.
The autopsy reports were due to come in and he knew he wouldn’t be happy to see its contents. Within a couple of weeks 3 people were found dead very mysteriously. No sign of struggle or break-in where their corpses were found. It seemed that the reaper came to collect their souls when no one expected.
All 3 deaths were of people who had a very high profile in the society. 55 year old Abhishiek Marathe, a wealthy banker was found dead in his house, followed by 53 year old Sushant Awasthi, a well known business man, who was found near his car dead and lastly, Shresth Sharma, a local politician who came from a family of well known politicians, died while enjoying his time with a paid companion.
The DCP was summoned, who had advocated the theory of a serial killer at loose since all the three deaths had happened within a fortnight and all of them were connected since they were old friends who had stuck to each other for a good 40 years.
“Prashant, grab a seat. I need to talk to you.” Commanded the commissioner, as soon as he saw the DCP walk in.
“Are the autopsy reports are here sir. Do they hint at anything suspicious?” Asked the DCP.
“Hell No! They are all clear. There is nothing in them that shows signs of Murder”
Just then a constable knocked on the door and requested permission to enter.
“Can’t you see Tawde that I am busy here” Said the commissioner in a raised voice.
“I am sorry, Sir, but there is an old woman outside, waiting to see you. She has been waiting since early morning.” Replied constable Tawde.
“Tell her I am busy In a Important meeting and keep her out of my face.” Screamed the commissioner, as he watched constable Tawde leave the room.
“So you still think all the 3 deaths so far are Murders, Prashant?” Asked the commissioner, continuing his earlier discussion.
“Yes Sir. In no way can I believe that 3 close friends just happen to die in the span of 14 days, unless there is something we should know about them, something they were involved in recently maybe, which proved to be fatal.”
“You know I knew them well since ages Prashanth, They all were clean. But we should keep digging on their deaths. I want to know if there is a killer, who is the next target” Said the Commissioner.
Just then, constable Tawde made his way again in the Commissioner room which made the commissioners temper rise even more.
“What the hell is it now Tawde?” asked a furious commissioner.
“Sir, it’s the same woman. She refuses to leave before meeting you. She says she needs to talk to you and only you. She doesn’t want to speak a word to anyone else.” replied Tawde.
“Bring the bloody bitch in!! Let me see who she is and what she has to say” thundered the commissioner.
A couple of minutes later, an old lady who was probably about 70 years old walked in. Both the commissioner and his deputy instantly recognized her from the investigating they had been carrying around, she was Aunty Pearl, a trusted domestic help who worked for Abhishiek Marathe, the guy who was the first to die among the three.
“What the fuck is the problem with you, lady? Weren’t you told that I am busy? I’m trying to look into the deaths of 3 people here.” screamed the angry Bijay patra.
“I was told you were busy and now that I know you are investigating the murders, I am here to help you with that.” replied the old lady standing in the frame of the door.
The DCP raised his eyes like an ever alert hawk and asked, “We never mentioned anything about the deaths being murders, so why do you mention the deaths as murders?”
“That’s because I killed them, all three of them” Said the lady with a smile which showed that she didn’t regret her act.
Clearly shocked and unable to control his anger, the commissioner threw his flask from which he had been drinking all the while on the table and got up. He dragged the old lady by her arm and forced her to sit on an empty chair, locking the door of his office behind.
The DCP understood that his superior would lead the questions or rather the interrogation of the old lady and hence, he took a back seat, readied himself with a writing pad and pen to write down the details of the proceedings.
“Bitch! You tell me how you did this without even being noticed?” thundered the commissioner.
“Well Im sure the Autopsy reports of Abhishiek might have suggested he had a stroke. Which I had induced by poisoning him”
“Poison? What kind of Poison? There were no signs of poisoning.”
“It was arsenic poison which I gave him trough his drinking water. It remains undetected while the person is taking it and also while the autopsy.” The old lady said and smiled.
“Fuck!” Exclaimed the DCP in near shock while the commissioner continued to hold his temper and continue with the interrogation.
“What about Sushant Awasthi? We found him dead in the parking lot of his apartment.”
“Ricin. Another undetectable poison that I managed to feed his body indirectly by exchanging his bottles of protein powder which he carried along with him when he came to see Mr. Abhishiek at his place”
On hearing this, the commissioner’s look changed to that of fear and he looked for his flask of cognac. He gulped down almost its entire content and calmed himself. In the next few seconds he felt a lot warmer in his throat and anger flooding his brain.
“I suppose you want to know how Mr.Sharma died too” She asked and continued with a smile, “He had a habit of enjoying sexual pleasures with paid companions every week, since age was catching up on him, he took support of the blessing you men call Viagra. I only had to pay his chemist a hefty sum to give him pills of an increased dose. Consequently, as we all now know, he suffered a cardiac arrest due to that in middle of his enjoyment”
The commissioner withdrew his gun and pointed at the old lady, his face looked as if it had been painted red as he asked at the top of his voice, “Why? Why did you do it? And why are you here?”
For the first time the old lady’s face appeared to be grim, she said, “You knew it the moment you saw the 3rd dead body that it was a murder, you knew I would come for you. Your face, your eyes tell me that you still remember that cold December night, 30 years ago in 1982”
The DCP sprang from his seat when he sensed the commissioner would pull the trigger but before he could snatch the gun, it slipped out of the commissioners grasp and he himself crashed down to the floor. He only Looked up and mouthed, “I will Kill you” to the old lady.
The old lady looked at the DCP and said, “I only came here to serve justice, which came 30 years too late. In 1982 4 people abducted an 18 year old from her hostel room, under influence of alcohol, beat her up and raped her and left her there to die, left my daughter to die”
A shocked DCP went silent and tried to help his superior to get to his feet while clearly he was struggling to move.
“He has a peanut allergy, a allergy that will kill him now. I switched his cognac flask with another one when he threw his flask on to the desk and forced me to sit. The replaced flask had cognac with peanut power.” She said to the DCP who was trying his best to summon for help.
68 year old Pearl Tavrez walked towards the door and unlocked it but before walking out, she turned and said to the DCP, “Sir, My name is Pearl Tavrez, I only did this to remind the system how unjust it can get if its servants are corrupt. My daughter needed justice, today her soul will truly rest in peace with his death but if you think I have been wrong and I should be punished or penalized then you can find my details in the police log book from the investigation you carried earlier”
She didn’t wait for the DCP to reply; she only smiled and walked off as a dozen police officers buzzed past her.
Epilogue:
Pearl Tavrez,
Mumbai.
It was a festive atmosphere at my house. Food for the dinner was being prepared and my only surviving family was to join me to honour the memory of a departed soul who should now rest in peace as her culprits were rotting in hell.
5 Mins later the door bell rang and I welcomed my family in, my granddaughter Urja, my son-in-law Alex and my daughter Sharon had arrived. Yes my daughter.
Not everyone knew what really happened that ill fated night in December, 1982.
In 1982, my daughter used to stay in a hostel since it was a hard commute back then from my place. Her childhood best friend, her soul sister Urja had joined her and they shared a room in their all girls hostel. Urja was a orphan who was bought up in an orphanage, a real sharp child she was, excellent in studies and kind and loving at heart. My husband had passed away and Sharon was my only family, since she treated Urja as her sister, I had planned to adopt her before her 18th birthday and welcome her to our family, until that night which changed the course of our lives.
The girls had a Christmas party in their hostel before they were set to leave for the vacations, but Sharon was busy completing assignments and wasn’t able to attend even though she wanted to. Hence, Urja who came back from dinner filled in for her. She asked Sharon to attend the party while she completed her remaining assignments.
15 minutes after Sharon left Abhishiek Marathe, Sushant Awasthi and Shresth Sharma broken into the hostel and entered the first room they saw, a room in which not one but two of my daughters were staying. They Dragged Urja out of the hostel, raped her repeatedly. If that was not enough they called in for a friend in, an inspector named Bijay Patra who would cover their track behind them. Instead he joined in their crime, beat her and left her by a deserted roadside to die until a few people saw her.
She tried to fight the pain inflicted upon her for two months but finally she gave in and succumbed to her injuries and humiliation.
It’s true, I never managed to adopt her but the child’s plight appealed to the mother inside me, her soul screamed and begged for help, but the authorities chose never to hear that, the case was closed as no evidence was found against the culprits, thanks to one of their father being a politician. That is when I decided to bring my little girl to justice. I planned and waited and it took me 30 long years but now that it’s done, I can sleep peacefully.
Let this be a message to all of you out there, a woman can be a million things if she wants to. She can make your house, fill your life with love, she can warm your beds but if you disgrace her, she can sever your head.
People die and leave the world but sometimes they leave an idea behind. An idea that can effect everyone’s lives they touched. Make sure you change people’s lives in a good way.
Writers Realm 