The scent that lingers - 9

Read Part 1 - here

Read Part 2 - here

Read Part 3 - here

Read Part 4 - here

Read Part 5 - here

Read Part 6 - here

Read part 7 - here
Read Part 8 - here 

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The sky seemed to be peeling off in a detonation of deafening thunder that evening. 

Pavil never thought much of rains, especially ones during winter, but even he had to agree that it accorded a befitting background track to the gruesome solemnity that was slowly enveloping the mood of this small town.

It had been only two days, but they were riddled with an angry chatter of hostility towards the police; at least Pavil thought so. 

A steady barrage of press and their godforsaken trucks equipped with satellites and radios, cameramen and journalists almost grabbing at the throat of every policeman who walked in or out of the station, asking for updates, information and their non engaging silence judged by a presiding team of self professed judicial press as failure on police’s part.

The sensational spice added with appalling insensitivity to this grisly incident in order to grease dwindling news channels ratings was macabre. 

The murder of a thirteen-year-old explained in lurid details, slandering the school’s name in their every sentence and passing verdicts through fictitious recreations of crime scene made it hard for Pavil to maintain a straight face, but glancing over at Khar’s inscrutable expressions as he addressed the media that evening somehow imparted enough strength and apathy to maintain a sense of calm while in the face of a sea of reporters.

Khar had refused to divulge any details and he wasn’t harassed nearly as fanatically as others and slowly his silent exasperation at being questioned incessantly began seeping into the throng of journalists who looked intimidated by Khar’s increasingly dour face and saturnine voice.

The deluge of rain worked as an excuse in the background making it easier for the press to retreat; a welcome respite for Khar and Pavil who made towards the grand Sinhal residency.

Unrelenting explosions of infinitesimal intensity wracked the car’s roof, and so deafening did they become that it was almost comforting to kill the noisy silence between them.

It had been two days and they found themselves without solid leads, without too many proofs, few shreds of evidence and little hope.

The digital and DNA forensic analysis was still over a week away, and without any of that, there was little to go ahead with.

Perhaps Pavil was being unnecessarily pessimistic because Khar was an expressionless monument. 

But then again it had been only two days after all. 

But a child was murdered in his own school. It had been two long days indeed.

He tried taking his mind off by trying to think of better thoughts, like Nehar Sinhal. Her dulcet soft voice, her smooth poetic laughter, her scent that always reminded him of something personal, an old memory, a lost awareness that wanted to be remembered but he could never quite put his finger on it.

Pavil was resolved to behave more appropriately, not that he was ever inappropriate, but he’d let the stoic stance of Khar’s inspire his own bearings while they questioned Tejan.

Some part of him was oddly excited to meet Veda Sinhal as well, not that he could be of much help, but still, a man of such high repute and political clout. A person of grave importance and father to a child who’d just lost his best friend. 

Perhaps he’d have something to say.

Tonight, Pavil was glad they weren’t detained at the entrance gate by the security, except for the mandatory car inspection and weapon check. It had been a smooth sailing up until now and he let himself feel optimistic for a second.

This was the second time in almost twenty-four hours that Khar found himself sitting in the same room of Sinhal residence.

It had a rather relaxed office like demeanour, with crisp white walls and square furniture.

 Minimal lightings on the ceiling and plenty of lamps and shades and an overly large official-looking wooden table with a large glass top, two neatly arranged boxes stamped ‘incoming’ and ‘outgoing’ and a stash of vertically aligned pens in holders.

How does one work in a comfortable office? he thought as he look around this beautiful place that was speckled with elegant house plants and yet something about this office room made it look unused, unloved even.

Could be owing to the fact that Mr Sinhal was usually away on official trips, being a high ranked foreign affairs diplomat accorded him nary a free time and that could be one of the reason and yet..

A quick glance from the corner of his eye showed Pavil’s face suddenly changing colour and Khar instantly knew that Nehar was in the room.

Why did he find it tedious to look at her and make even the slightest bit of conversation no matter how official? She looked much too angelic to be true; her diabetes inducing smile that had the chameleonic ability to change into a quick smirk before returning back to that saccharine sweetness made it difficult for Khar to trust her. 

An inherent dishonesty dwelling within that charitable facade that somehow went unnoticed by almost everyone, especially Pavil who was now standing up sporting a crimson face and a fuzzy expression he tried correcting, looking rather silly in his endeavour. 

Talking to her second time today could prove exhausting, but thankfully she wasn’t alone.

Tejan slowly trudged into the room followed by Nehar, and without as much as glancing up, sat in a comfortable chair and fiddled with a small paperweight. 

Pavil’s expertise on kids and children, in general, was elementary at most, but even he could discern Tejan’s sadness.

Kicking mournfully at the corner of a carpet, his eyes were downcast with an anguish most heartbreaking. 

His pain, Pavil could see running a lot deeper than usual childish tantrums or hurt. He was grieving in miserable hopelessness and being a child had no idea how to deal with the loss of his best friend. 

No amounts of Nehar’s cooing coddles could persuade Tejan to look up and speak to them.

‘You can help us find the person who hurt your friend, Tejan’ Khar’s voice came out uncharacteristically soft and mellow. ‘if you talk to us for five minutes and tell us all that you remember’ 

Tejan was spinning the small paperweight on his palm and Khar dragged a chair next to him and sat quietly. 

The sudden silence in the room was cloying at Pavil and he wished someone would say something, but wishes, he knew rarely ever came true.

Perhaps Khar sensed it too because at that very moment his voice assumed a rather polite yet stern inflection ‘Mrs Sinhal, could we please have a few moments alone with Tejan’ he said delicately.

Nehar raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow and looked at Pavil. On seeing no reaction coming her way from either of the police officers she grudgingly excused herself. 

Khar folded his hands on his lap and sat quietly watching Tejan fiddle with the paperweight.

‘What’s your favourite sport, Tejan’ Khar asked cheerfully, snatching a small paperweight from the able and flinging it in the air before catching it. 

At this gesture, Tejan looked up and saw the scary policeman play with a paperweight.

‘It’s made of glass’ Tejan finally spoke. ‘It will shatter if it falls to the ground’

‘Oh,’ Khar exclaimed rather frightened and almost dropped the paperweight.

A hint of a small smile almost passed through Tejan’s face.

‘Bet you like volleyball’ Khar said amicably.

Tejan shook his head. ‘I don’t like sports.’

Khar looked surprised ‘No?’ what it is then? music?’ he sounded curious.

‘Drama’ Tejan replied flatly.

‘Ah!’ Exclaimed Khar. ‘Is that what you were practising for on Sunday?’ he asked rather inquisitively.

‘Yes. A play.’ Tejan looked sad

‘Was Majid a part of your play?’ Khar put a hand on Tejan’s shoulder.

‘N..No. He was doing announcements for the first half of the function. We were at the school for practice. I..I don’t understand’ and Tejan loudly sobbed.

‘Would you like to help your friend, Tejan?’ asked Khar.

A silent nod and Tejan began talking.

The scent that lingers - 8

Read Part 1 - here

Read Part 2 - here

Read Part 3 - here

Read Part 4 - here

Read Part 5 - here

Read Part 6 - here

Read part 7 - here

----

Where are we going? The police station is the other way’ Pavil spoke as Khar took a right turn on exiting the school compound instead of the left that would connect them to the main road.

Khar drove along the small service lane, taking another sharp right turn and drove until they could see the back of the school’s main block. 

They were driving along the periphery of the school and Pavil saw other buildings that he hadn’t noticed until now. 

The staff quarters was a small hive like structure, done in simple red brick. From this point, he could see a bit of the old school building and top of some buses, since a wall, taller than man height obstructed most of the view. Judging by the diameter of the entire school compound as marked by the wall it looked like a rather large area, bigger than what he had at first glance anticipated. 

They’d completed a semi-circle and Khar was vigilantly keeping a lookout of his window until they stopped at a point and Khar got out of the car.

Pavil found himself getting surprised by the sudden placidity of this area which was just a few hundred yards away from the main school gates. As bustling as the main entranceway seemed, the back of the school behind the wall was eerily tranquil. 

It looked like no one had ventured out here, and judging by the jungle like growth that had crept out from the trenches near the wall to the service lane, it didn’t seem like a popular spot either.

No surprise since it was not connected to any roads and had no entrance or exits to speak of, except a small gate that had been shut decades ago.

At this thought, Pavil unzipped his backpack and fished out a piece of paper on which principal Savik had sketched a rough map of the school area on Sunday. He’d forgotten all about it until now. 

The entire perimeter of the school had been checked by a small team of policemen, and they’d given their reports. 

There were as the map indicated two main entrances to the school and another for the staff.

The bigger of two main entrances was meant for buses and the smaller one for those who cycled or walked to the school. 

The third entrance/exit was towards the staff parking lot and meant to be used exclusively by staff living on campus. 

The inoperative access gate according to the report and map was farther down the back of the school and mostly obscured by trees. It was much too small for anyone trying to enter inside through that gate, and decades of disuse had rendered it menacingly rusted not to mention almost invisible to a random passerby.

Pavil followed Khar and a few short minutes later found himself facing the obsolete gate. It was hardly a gate anymore. The so-called gratings were brown with once flaking rust that had now solidified to a form a thick carapace. 

It was through these gratings that Khar was trying to peer inside. He stood at different angles to peek through and turned back to look at Pavil’s confused expressions.

‘You think someone must have tried to get in from here?’ Pavil felt foolish asking this question.

‘One would have to be made of air to pass through these’ Khar touched the gratings, ‘but’ he pointed at the tire tracks on the service lane ‘this area isn’t nearly as dead as one would think’ 

The overgrowth in some area had been trampled by cars and though not heavily frequented the backside of the school did have some visitors. 

‘It’s a deserted place after all. A good parking spot even.’ Pavil rolled his eyes and saw Khar motioning him to come over to where he stood.

Cigarette butts littered the ground right outside the now deceased gate. Pavil bent down to inspect them, looking for the dual chromed unusually scented cigarette butt in particular, but of that there were none, and judging by their condition they looked to have come from different times.

Some were fresh, almost a few hours old and some from weeks, even months ago.

‘Looks like students have found themselves a smoking zone in the school’ Pavil observed.

Khar had plastered his face on the rusted gratings and smiled ‘With a great vantage point too’

Pavil mimicked his senior and observed how different the school looked from this perspective. Now that he could see the back and sides of different buildings it took him a long moment to realize that the main block wasn’t as far away as he’d expected, and he could see the windows of some classrooms and even the students sitting near them.

This was most curious, he tried squeezing his face a little more through the small gaps between the rusted grills of the gate and heard Khar make some comment about tetanus and noticed some boys standing near a barred window of a ground floor classroom out of which one was peeking out, and for a moment it looked like he was staring right at Pavil, but in fact he was holding something up to his ear.

Is he talking on his phone?

‘I thought students weren’t allowed to use their phones inside the classroom’ Pavil managed to speak between clenched teeth and realized how much of his face he’d been squeezing through the rusted gratings. 

‘It’s not a classroom, Pavil’

He stared again. ‘Oh,’ he realized. It was the boy’s bathroom.

Pavil worked his jaw as he pushed himself away from the gate, dusting off anything that might be stuck to his clothes, rubbing his face he got inside the car. 

‘You think someone saw Majid inside the bathroom through the gates and planned his murder?’ Pavil asked

‘If you mean planned the murder on the spot then it’s a possibility’ Khar observed. 

Pavil stared at a flowchart he’d drawn in his little notebook and started pencilling in some blank spaces. ‘So’, he mused ‘we’re looking for someone who had a reason to kill Majid, who carried a small saw and who possibly even saw the victim through those now defunct gates’ He sighed. ‘This is just theory, right?

‘A possibility’ Khar muttered in his deep-set voice.

Pavil clutched a steaming cup of tea, scalding his palms in doing so, but this was a sensation he was growing accustomed to, and with the sudden onslaught of cold winds he welcomed this temporary warmth. 

Blowing at the surface more than it was necessary to create a thick fog he looked over at Khar ‘When will we talk to Tejan? He hasn’t been attending school since the incident’

‘I've just spoken to Mrs Sinhal’ Khar looked up at Pavil sipping his tea ‘we’ll go to meet the Sinhal’s tonight’ upon hearing Pavil almost choke on the hot beverage ‘if you behave that is’ he added.

The scent that lingers -7

Read Part 1 - here

Read Part 2 - here

Read Part 3 - here

Read Part 4 - here

Read Part 5 - here

Read Part 6 - here

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The concoction of multitudinous activities most of which Khar had let embed in forgotten sands of ancient times, accumulated into a sprightly atmosphere that is mostly unique to schools.

A steady chatter of conversations, excited shrieks from playgrounds, peals of laughter from a floor above, and a steady mumbling sound that hummed like an undertone to these noises flowed continuously, which didn’t seem to come from any apparent direction. 

Schools, so many years past seemed like an alien territory, a place he didn’t belong, a place that wasn’t meant to witness the horrors of murder.

It was sacrosanct. A safe place for learning and fun, where children got away from life to learn about life, and yet it had been stained by the sick perversion of human folly.

Judging by the sea of faces that glanced at them Pavil guessed their arrival at YC International school just happened to be during the lunch break and felt uncomfortable by the questioning glimpses that ever so slightly and often not subtly stole themselves in their direction.

They were heading towards the principal’s office for a more detailed round of questioning and Pavil wondered how many children he saw on their way were aware of the incident from the day before?

What were their thoughts? what did they think could have happened?

The principal’s office was what Khar had expected and remembered from those times centuries ago.

Perhaps as a principal one develops similar habits and peculiarities, congruent to their jobs falling in similar patterns to foster common routines and quirks even.

He had this memory of an off-white globe that always sat on the desk in the principal’s office, a pile of files in the cabinets behind, a not so comfortable couch somewhere on the side and a few chairs facing the principal. 

The cognizant surge of recollection that seemed to birth out of nowhere from the strange yet similar odour that came from characteristic mingled smells of school stationery, tea, afternoon, somewhat old furniture and teachers was to Khar a startling jolt of accidental amazement. An emotion, or was it a feeling he didn’t much ascribe to, nor experience often.

The principal’s office at YC International school felt comparable to the one Khar had just remembered from the recesses of his memory. 

There was a globe, albeit a blue coloured one, that sat dustily on Mr Savik’s table, while the man himself seemed to be engaged in an animated conversation with Khar guessed was probably a math teacher.

On seeing Khar and Pavil, Mr Savik politely excused himself and gestured them to sit.

Mr Savik had aged considerably in the past two days and Pavil found himself feeling sorry for the elderly man.

Almost every news channel was alive with the sensational story of a thirteen-year-old found dead in the boy’s bathroom of YC International school, and the the strain of meeting press, answering their queries and being targeted as the man generally responsible for the entire school’s going on had taken a toll on the man’s bearing.

A genially benevolent man, Mr Savik had one of those dignified faces that was easy to respect though he somewhat lacked the bearings of a strict principal.

Having never married, he led one of those uncomplicated lives that travelled in a straight line.

Pavil straightened in his chair as the principal came towards them 

‘Mr Savik there is some new information regarding this case that we’d like to talk to you about’ Pavil flipped some pages of his small notebook.

‘Are students allowed to bring phones to school’ Pavil began by asking in a flat voice.

Mr Savik folded his hands on the table and sat looking expressionless. His face was drawn and he managed a smile. ‘They’re allowed’ he said ‘but as long as they don’t use it during class’ he exhaled a deep breath ‘Are you any closer to finding the killer?’

‘We are doing what we can, sir’ Pavil spoke calmly.

‘Do you know of any seniors who bullied Majid?’ Pavil continued.

The principal drew in a breath and slowly massaged his forehead with his fingers. ‘Hmm.. yes. There have been two occasions, though disciplinary action was taken and the students have since then ceased’

‘What kind of occasions?’ Pavil asked 

Mr Savik seemed to have closed his eyes then said ‘two months prior they were caught smoking and forcing junior students to smoke in the old building’s laboratory’ he pointed outside the window towards what Pavil assumed was the older part of the school. ‘Majid was among the junior students’ and a few weeks after that incident they got into a scuffle on the sports ground after school. Roughing some juniors. A complaint was lodged by a parent of one of the children they got into a fight with, after which they were suspended for a week, and such incidents have since stopped’

Pavil brooded over this last statement ‘this scuffle that happened, was Majid one of them?’

Mr Savik’s haggard face seemed to wince ‘yes’ he said. 

Khar touched the globe with his index finger and looked at the principal looking deadpan. ‘How many senior students are we talking about?’

Mr Savik slowly uttered ‘are they under suspicion?’

‘These are just routine inquiries based on some information’ Pavil smiled a reassuring smile ‘Nothing alarming. We just want to be sure and eliminate any chances of wrongful suspicions before moving any further’ 

Mr Savik blinked and picked up his phone asking for two senior boys to be sent to his office.

As bullies go, the two gangly boys with ample pimples looked far from your quintessential every day bullies. 

They looked like kids starting their rebellious phase and showed their ignorance and hate for all that’s authority by wearing their shirts untucked and hair in a mess.

‘These gentleman from the police wold like to ask you a few questions, boys’ Mr Savik brought out his benevolent streak of affable academician and the so called senior bullies did a rather ungainly paling.

‘er..sir..eh..we didn’t do anything’ the pimplier of the two blurted out. His pale face now growing a shade deathlier. 

Pavil had suddenly been to enjoy this spectacle of the very afraid kids and he turned to them putting on a straight if a little angry face and said ‘why don’t you tell us exactly what you two didn’t do’ 

‘Uh..we..we don’t know anything.’ the lesser pimply kid spoke defensively for both of them, slowly tucking in his shirt looking at Mr Savik.  

Pavil turned to Khar and warily the two bullies followed his gaze to rest on Khar’s stolid visage and whatever little was left of them came undone in a rush.

The rest few minutes were spent in a haphazardly worded cloud of incoherent dialogue. Each senior describing the events of Sunday in gibberish until Pavil had to hold up his hand. He stared at the more pimplier of the two and said ‘You tell me’

‘we..we’ he began ‘uhh, we were done with rehearsals and went to the bathroom to change when Majid and Tejan also entered. Uh..they had cigarettes and they didn’t know we were in the bathroom stall and they began smoking’

Pavil held up his hand once again ‘what was the time?’

The other bully looking at the confusion of his friend chimed in ‘sir..uh..mr, we got done with the rehearsals at three in afternoon and went to our classrooms to collect our clothes, to change from our costumes..uh..we got talking to some umm. friends..umm girls.. and then went to the bathroom to change’ he went silent, then spoke again ‘it must have been around half past three’

 ‘Ok’ Pavil spoke finally getting some semblance of the sequence of events ‘then what?’

‘Sir, uh,’ stammered the pimplier bully ‘they were smoking in the bathroom and got scared to see us. We..er..’ he looked at his friend 

‘Go on, children’ Mr Savik said calmly ‘what’s done is done. Tell these gentlemen what happened in exact details’ 

‘Yes sir’ one of the senior gulped ‘we started pushing Majid around and took his cigarettes, but then Tejan intervened and we didn’t want anything getting out of hand’ he looked down at his shoes, embarrassed. 

‘After that’ the other one continued ‘we left. We gave the half packet of cigarettes to the watchman’ 

‘Did you smoke the cigarettes too?’ Pavil quietly asked

‘No..no..uh..no sir’ they immediately replied looking at Mr Savik.

Pavil discreetly gestured to Mr Savik and he asked the seniors to go back to their classes ‘These gentleman will get in touch with you again, if they have any further questions.. and’ he added sternly ‘you will not discuss this with your classmates’ 

Rendered mute with fear and shame, the two bullies shook their heads, eyes cast downwards, they slowly shuffled out of the principal office, almost inaudibly. 

An hour later the policeman left Mr Savik’s office. Pavil was ferociously scribbling in his notebook, some inferences he drew from the last few questions regarding Majid and Tejan; he flipped back to the first few pages of his notes and asked Khar ‘why would anyone kill a thirteen year old?’

Khar seemed to be brooding over his steering wheel ‘We find the motive, we find the killer’ he replied tersely.

‘Ok’ Pavil stared outside the car ‘you think those bullies didn’t smoke those cigarettes they confiscated from Majid? You think they lied in front of their principal?’ he wondered aloud.

‘That, or maybe they didn’t want to smoke women’s cigarettes’ Khar said.

The scent that lingers - 6

Read part 1 - here

Read part 2 - here 

Read part 3 - here 

Read part 4 - here 

Read part 5 - here  
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Their arrival at Sinhal family house wasn’t unexpected, considering they’d been apprised of it much in advance by the security and Khar and Pavil were greeted with an astute preparedness.

Pavil was momentarily taken aback at the imposing grandiose of the interiors when they were ushered into a rather office like seating area, where outsiders who probably weren’t meant to be a part of the house were entertained. 

The woman who received them, lovely in features, impeccably dressed in smart casuals, decked up just enough to justify makeup this late in the evening was most gracious and forthcoming in the way she greeted them. 

A warm smile that wouldn’t budge lit up her face and she looked nothing short of cordially eager to help out with whatever these fine gentleman wanted help with she had said or something like that.

Pavil had strayed from his line of thought and hid his bewildered glazed eyes behind a stoic mask of professional nonchalance, when in fact he found himself unable to take his eye off this lovely creature who seemed to tread daintily on what should have been the floor, but Pavil knew was air. 

Unearthly in her delightfully breeze manner and the way she seemed to put her surroundings at ease, glowing in resplendent elegance that could only be born into, Nehar was indeed a thing of beauty and Pavil seemed to be floating in a subtle scent of some long forgotten memories, his face slowly turning a deeper shade of crimson. His mind in deep benevolence to the universe for creating a creature so ethereal in existence, his heart almost tearing up.

Glancing at Khar to see how he was affected, Pavil was disappointed to note that not only was Khar pigheadedly unmoved but his bearings seemed to put Nehar Sinhal ill at ease.

‘We have only a few routine questions’ Pavil interjected to break her discomfort. It ailed him to see her bothered. 

‘We’d like a statement’ Khar’s indomitable voice silently boomed with a cruel apathy. ‘Please come to the police station tomorrow morning at eight, so we can get this over with’ Khar looked at Pavil and turned towards the door, with Pavil in tow.

‘Why didn’t we talk to her..er..?’ Pavil sounded petulant even to himself and checked his tone immediately ‘sir’ he said.

‘Not while you grinned and gaped like a two-year-old’. There wasn’t any anger in Khar’s voice, Pavil wasn’t sure if Khar ever got angry or screamed even, but he knew how to change the inflection of steeliness in his tone to make it sound mellow or chilled as it did just now.

I wasn’t grinning

‘Yes, you were’ Khar started the engine.

Pavil blew on his styrofoam cup of hot tea on Tuesday morning. Its steam burgeoned into a small cloud on his face, fogging his eyes. The weather had cooled down considerably, he could feel the slight chill penetrate his feet through the stone floors of his office and he wondered where he’d stashed away his woollen socks.

Glancing at his watch he knew it was almost time for Nehar to come in for her statement, but would she come on time; he was still wondering when his office door opened and before he could even feign surprise he felt disappointed on seeing Khar walk in.

Khar’s clothes weren’t much discernible from what he wore yesterday, except that they looked fresh and warm. He noticed the breadth of his biceps for the first time as they formed an almost obscure bulge on his warm sports jacket.

‘I used to do a bit of boxing at some point in my life’ Khar spoke tipping the contents of his flask into a styrofoam cup.

Pavil wondered if his face worked in cahoots with his brain, displaying his every thought when the office door opened again and in walked Nehar.

She came in with a delicate scent faintly touching her like a halo. The scent of some long forgotten memories to Pavil. Nehar looked fresh and superb. Dressed in an immaculately styled pant-suit that though fitting ever so delightfully on those sublime curves was every bit classic as her scent and herself.

Minimally made up, Pavil’s eyes discreetly observed her and a sudden soft tinkle nearly threw him off balance, which came from a bracelet on her right hand. 

She beamed with a glowing smile and greeted them with a voice that no one else except Nehar had any right to possess.

 Pavil pulled out a chair for her and sat facing her, while Khar leaned against a wall that faced her back.

Pavil could see them both, and hoped his face wouldn’t betray any childish emotion this time as he spoke ‘Could you please tell us the series of events from your end on Sunday, November 13th’ 

‘Well’ Nehar brought out the same dewy smile.

‘I drove Tejan to school, picking up his friend Majid on the way’ and she accentuated her tone and smile with a considerate seriousness ‘and dropped them both to school at nine sharp; after which I went back home and left for a parents association meeting at eleven. The meeting ended at one in the afternoon and I went to buy groceries, directly after which I reached YC International school around fifteen past four to pick up the kids’ she paused and looked at Pavil.

Pavil gulped invisibly ‘what happened then?’ he quietly asked.

Nehar continued gravely ‘I went to Tejan’s classroom and found him alone. Upon asking him about Majid he told me that he’d sent a message saying his parents were coming to pick him up. I thought no more of that’ she widened her eyes ‘and took him back home’ she blinked and went quiet.

‘So you were expecting to find Majid with your son in the classroom?’ Khar asked while still leaning on the wall, and Nehar had to look back at him to answer. 

‘Yes, of course’, she continued in her lilting tone, though a little measured now. ‘Majid was coming to stay over for the night’ Nehar turned to face Pavil.

‘Did he often come to stay over at your house’ Pavil continued on that line of query.

‘Yes. Often. Majid and Tejan were best friends, almost inseparable. There were days when Tejan would go for sleepovers to his house too, but I encouraged them to stay in our house more often. It just felt a little more secure’ she said thoughtfully.

Pavil saw Khar staring at him in the brief space of silence and somehow this time he understood. 

‘Did majid and Tejan have any problems with senior kids?’ Pavil brought about an almost official tone, that perturbed Nehar not in the least.

She sagely looked straight at him, and Pavil feared she might read his thoughts too ‘Well, you see’ and she lowered her face ‘Majid was what one would call a problem child. Getting into a fracas with teachers and daily squabbles with his classmates. He got into similar fights with the senior kids as well. I think they’re fifteen-year-olds and bullies too.’ she looked back at Khar who didn’t seem to be paying any attention

‘I know their parents through Parents Association and they’re lovely gentle hearted folk. It’s just this age, and kids often lash out at other kids, but there haven’t been any grievous incidents. At least not that I know of, and they often get bickering with Tejan but that’s the extent of it.’ she said.

‘That or Tejan probably doesn’t tell you’ Khar’s ice cold voice silently crept out from behind her.

Her plastered smile was slowly fading and Pavil hated that he noticed her discomfort.

‘Perhaps’ she said. ‘but I didn’t have any cause for concern so I didn’t much bother, though I often told his parents about the bullying situation and they did speak to their children’ she brought back the melodic jingle to her voice.

No cause for concern

Pavil noted this sentence down and remembered Khar’s words from last night. 

Khar walked to where Pavil was sitting ‘was there anyone else at school?’ he spoke without looking at her and for a brief moment, Nehar’s eyes flashed with annoyance. 

‘Surprisingly the school was empty. It seems everyone had left including the faculty. Mr Savik, I think was still in his office, but I cannot say that for sure and of course the watchman who let me in.’ Nehar regained her lucent smile.

‘Did you not think this odd?’ Pavil questioned.

Nehar thought for a moment before answering ‘Not as such. I gathered the activities were over an hour previous, and the kids often played football after school and Tejan’s trousers were a bit dusty..so..I guessed this is why they asked me to pick them up much later’ her face was triumphant. 

Everything in order 

‘Did Tejan make any calls on Majid’s phone after coming back home, Mrs Sinhal?’ Khar asked looking at her.

‘Please, Nehar’ she smiled effervescently and Pavil felt a prick in his chest. 

‘He must have, though I’m not sure. Majid was his best friend and Tejan was rather upset about not having him for a sleepover that night.’ she spoke thoughtfully.

‘Well,’ Khar said straightening. ‘this is it for now. If we have any more questions or if you remember something please let us know’.

She stood up to leave and won Pavil with her borderline decent but sultry smile and turned towards the door when she suddenly looked back at Khar and said ‘the funny thing is, I don’t remember Majid ever having a phone. Maybe he was gifted a new one recently’ she shrugged, smiled and left.

Pavil looked at Khar ‘Well, what about that?’

The scent that lingers- 5

Read part 1 -here

Read part 2 -here

Read part 3 -here

Read part 4 -here

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The empty silence that rented their space for the next few moments was cresting to a multitude of questions on Pavil’s part. 

He wasn’t sure if it was from the sheer confusion of what he’d just heard from the watchman or the fact that children were capable of killing other children on school grounds these days.

‘It’s too much of a speculation’ Khar spoke almost reading Pavil’s thoughts. ‘the watchman could be lying or even if he did speak the truth, it’s just a version of his truth.’ 

‘I don’t know’ Pavil chewed his lips ‘it felt like he was trying to cover for the seniors.’

‘In that case, he didn’t do a very good job of it. Let’s see what the digital forensics have to say’ Khar sank back in a chair and Pavil picked up his phone.

A small saw with an inch wide blade. Why would anyone bring that to a school? who needs these tools? What is a saw that size used for.. making small stools or sawing smaller pieces of wood? A saw, a spice-scented cigarette, a broken phone, a dead child, a friend, a watchman, senior kids? perhaps.. But a saw..

Pavil wasn’t aware of any correct official protocol to wake up a sleeping senior officer and so he simply cleared his throat.

A deep voice emanating from hidden depths of meditative composure poured out of Khar ‘What news?’

Pavil studied his notebook ‘The broken phone found at the crime scene was registered on Mr Wasim’s name. At five minutes past four, a message was sent from that phone and it received three calls yesterday evening’ 

He stopped for a moment hoping for a reply but getting none, he continued ‘The message was sent to a mobile phone registered in the name of a Nehar Sinhal, it said “Hey man, gotta go. Parent’s picking up. Something important. See you tomorrow” after which the deceased’s phone received three calls. First at six thirty, second at eight and third at ten from a landline..registered in the name of Veda Sinhal’ he paused, drew a breath, and continued ‘The rest of the analysis in regards to any evidence found in the investigation of the phone, DNA, hidden fingerprints will take a minimum ten days, but we have this for now’  

‘This is interesting’ Khar let the smallest flicker of a smile dot his face before retracting into a reflective stance.

‘What time is it, Pavil?’

‘Almost eight, sir’ 

‘Let’s meet Majid’s parents’ 

There was only so much one could have learnt in one day, but for Pavil this fateful or rather unfortunate in many ways Monday had been an encyclopedia of new learnings. 

He joined the force only two short years ago and what he expected from this job was far more than what this job expected out of him; in his mind he roughed up criminals, arrested lawless crooks and made this world a better place, what he didn’t envision was that he’d end up sermonizing teenagers caught with recreational drugs, scan for lost cars and try talking sense to smack-addled brains, which was an unnecessary albeit official protocol. 

None of these experiences had been handy enough in tutoring him to deal with grieving parents of a murdered child and it was with a heavy heart topped with a poker face that he sat on the passenger seat in Khar’s car.

‘Take a left from here, sir’ Pavil was scrutinizing the map on his phone and giving directions.

The house looked modest in bearing, partly because it was draped in gloom. Exaggerated by silence, mourning semblance lingered like a cloud and everything seemed unnaturally quiet. Partly by the fact that no one wanted to be seen around, maybe out of awkwardness or perhaps out of apathy. 

The weak glow of a dying bulb lit a distant part of the house which conspired in the anguish that resided within the walls, and Pavil waited for Khar to walk, trailing behind him he was at a loss for words.

There were more people than he’d expected. Family members of both husband and wife sat around the house, speaking in faint monotones. The entire atmosphere, to Pavil, was rather buttoned up and if there were sobs they had been mostly subdued.

Majid’s father sat at the dining table staring at his phone. Its glowing screen indicating that it was silently ringing. 

‘Mr Wasim’ Khar’s voice was soft and disarming.

Majid’s father looked up at Khar and a few seconds later when recognition set in he asked him to sit down. 

‘We’ve already given our statement’ Mr Wasim said 

Khar looked at the grieving father and spoke gently ‘This isn’t official. We just want to ask a few questions as some new evidence has come to light. I’m sorry for disturbing you..’ he couldn’t finish when Mr Wasim suddenly looked up  ‘have you found the murderer?’ his voice was ragged and hoarse.

‘No, Mr Wasim’ Khar said matter of factly, we cannot divulge any details, I just want to know if there were any changes in your plan for Sunday. 

According to the statement you gave this morning -Majid was going to stay at his friend Tejan’s house on Sunday night, so I request you, think hard, if you or your wife called him up to change the plan and decided to pick him yourself’ Khar’s tone had taken an official note, which though subdued was remarkably formal. 

Mr Wasim was silently brooding ‘No. We were quite happy he was going to be with a friend that night, and we were looking forward to a Sunday to ourselves. There was no change in plans’ he covered his face with his hands.

Khar looked at him for a moment ‘may we speak to your wife?’ he quietly asked 

‘Can we please do this tomorrow?’ Mr Wasim was barely audible.

‘Of course’ Khar stood up to leave, ‘did Majid have his own phone which he carried to school?’ he asked 

Majid’s father nodded.

‘Now?’ Pavil asked opening the car’s door.

‘Check the map for Sinhal residence’ Khar said.

The Sinhal house was one of those important landmarks of a town that everyone knows about.

 It used to be an old if not ancient structure; a baroque building from old times, bulking, even grotesque, yet magnificent, tattered, broken and forgotten until almost half a century ago when it was bought by an important political family of that area who renovated it into a miniature castle.

It was lavish in a way that didn’t look ostentatious but didn’t pretend at fitting in with commonly understood aesthetics either. 

Lit from outside and within, its sprawling gardens manicured to perfection were a study in horticulture and dainty gazebo’s in tasteful designs dotted the garden area. 

It was privy to the kind of parties that Pavil only saw in movies, which always failed to enchant him.

A huge gate marked the entrance of Sinhal residence and a sea of security guards armoured with machine guns and dressed in black fatigues had them waiting for what Pavil felt was an irritably long time, before letting them in. 

The entire demeanour of this household was nothing if not contradictory to the morbid local tragedy and bereaved Wasim household.

‘The only reason anyone cares about Majid’s murder is because they’re scared, the knowledge that it could have been their child instead makes them uneasy, but here..’ Khar pointed outside his window at a line of security personnel

 ‘no one lives in that fear’ Pavil knew for certain that Khar could read his thoughts. 

The scent that lingers - 4

Read part 1 - here

Read part 2 - here

Read part 3 - here

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Pursuing prevailing trends with a fashionable fanaticism was a legitimate avocation for people his age, but of such people he knew little; having few friends, who like him were just as obtuse about style and so it didn’t matter much to him whether his hair was perfectly cut or not, however one thing he knew in all absolution was that he didn’t want them nearly as shorn as the barber looked committed to doing.

The buzzing sound of an electric razor, hovering lambently about his person made him uneasy and the noise seemed to be emanating from all sides.

He tried to speak up, to tell the barber that he didn’t want his head shaved, especially with that god awful vibrating racket emanating from electric razor but the man fluttering behind his head didn’t seem too perturbed by his agitation and continued mowing his head with disturbing sound of insistent vibration.

Pavil screamed, yelled at him to stop, but the man wouldn’t listen because Pavil’s voice was stuck in his throat and so hysterical did Pavil become that he began sweating, feeling the buzzing vibrating sound snake down his spine and with a flash everything seemed to combust into fumes when he felt his face sting with sweat.

Pavil opened his eyes to see himself in the mirror but the world was a blur and the indistinct image of a man seated on a chair behind a rather large table seemed to be covered in fog.

It felt like his vision had separated into layers, that slowly flowed back to cohesion.

The insistent vibrating sound still lingered before finally going still.

Pavil sat up, trying to understand this situation. He tried recalling the scene from moments ago, something about a mirror was it? or some man in a barbershop? 

his memory was fleeting and a growing alarm of caution burnt his ears and lent colour to his cheeks when his eyes finally adjusted to see Khar bent on his table, reading something intently.

Pavil felt his head thrumming with heaviness and a growing sense of shame began replacing his sudden alarm.

He remembered walking into the autopsy room. Everything else after that seemed mangled in a confused tapestry of dreams and imagination.

Khar’s face was unreadable when he spoke ‘You fainted, help yourself to some tea and snacks’ he said pointing towards a flask in front of him.

Pavil didn’t have to be asked twice. He was famished and the knowledge that he’d fainted in front of a doctor and his superior needed supplementing his body with enough fuel to cope up with the embarrassment. 

‘Your phone has been vibrating for a while, Pavil’ Khar said while pouring him some tea.

Vibrations!  Pavil thought. 

‘Sir, it’s from the digital forensics’ Pavil spoke brightly between mouthfuls of biscuit. 

Khar’s table was piled with photos, papers, files and a small notepad where he’d been scribbling just a short while back and every minute or so his face would linger on a small plastic packet that held cigarette butts. Pavil knew those to be the only evidence materials apart from the broken phone found at the crime scene that morning.

‘These have to be submitted to the forensics lab for DNA analysis as well’ Khar said following Pavil’s gaze.

‘It’ll take more than a week for results, seeing how overburdened our labs are’ he exhaled.

‘Tell me Pavil, have you seen such cigarette butts?’ Khar pushed the plastic case towards him and Pavil realized they were unlike any usual yellow coloured ordinary ones. 

They had a sort of holographic effect on them and a dual chrome sheen that was both green and blue when held up towards the light.

‘They are rather unique, sir’ Pavil said handing them back but Khar instead opened the package and took a long whiff.

Momentarily after the plastic casing was opened the smell that immediately percolated was redolent of spices.

‘Do you smell that Pavil?’ Khar inquired closing the evidence package.

‘Smells like cloves..and..and’

‘Cinnamon’ Khar said.

The fortuneless share invariable traits in their countenance, that of abject misery and hopelessness, even if their circumstances aren’t nearly as impoverished. They get used to living a life they deem worthless and take little pleasure in their only livelihood learning to rain every conversation with complaints and gripe that begin as tales of misfortune souring quickly to irritable ravings.

Pavil wondered if Khar thought the same about this watchman who now sat grumbling in Pavil’s office as Khar silently looked on from a distant corner.

Unlike the watchman who was on duty that morning this one was in stark contrast.

He looked angry at being summoned, obstinate even and was in no mood to cooperate. 

Pavil had immediately judged him to be hostile when the first thing he uttered about being questioned was his complete ignorance and apathy towards the murder.

‘I don’t know and it’s not my job to care. I don’t get paid enough to let police make my life stressful. I am on a leave and you can’t keep asking me questions I know nothing about’ he spoke gruffly.

‘You don’t care that a child was murdered the day you were on duty on school grounds? and you don’t care to know who did it either? seeing that you’re so disinterested and unwilling to tell us any details about that day, it makes very easy for the police to begin their investigations with you as their lead suspect’ Pavil spoke restlessly

‘You, you can’t do that’ the watchman muttered, sounding gruff and distant.

‘Let him go, Pavil’ Khar’s voice silently boomed, ‘This man is useless, he knows nothing’ there was an eerie gravity to his tenor. He spoke in low tones and without looking at the watchman proceeded to talk to Pavil in hushed whispers.

The watchman sat rooted, looking at Pavil cast glances at him and nodding to Khar.

‘Alright, you’re free to leave. What a waste of time calling you’ Pavil snorted

‘What are you going to do to me’ the watchman asked wiping his forehead. 

‘We’ll see about that. You can leave. Get out now’ Pavil turned his gaze towards the door.

‘Sir, I, I, sir..I don’t know anything about the murder’ the watchman grovelled.

On getting no reply he continued

‘I reached the school that morning as instructed by Mr Savik and locked the gates around five’ 

Pavil was brisk in his questioning ‘What time did you open the school gates?’

‘Sir, I cam around six on Sunday morning and the students supposed to come that day were in school by nine. 

The activities were finished by three in afternoon and everyone left. At five Mr Savik asked me to lock the gates and leave’ the watchman’s voice was sombre.

‘The activities were over at three you say?’ Pavil inquired sternly.

‘yes, sir. Everyone had left by then’ the watchman spoke slowly.

‘Everyone?’ Pavil emphasized on the word staring straight at the watchman.

‘Er, sir, Tejan and Majid were still at school and..’ the watchman sputtered

‘And the senior kids..but..but those senior kids always stay after school..but..uh..they left around four’ the watchman was sweating.

‘What time exactly did they leave?’ Pavil asked him softly.

‘Sir..uh..shortly before Tejan’s mother came to pick him. Sometime around four.’ the watchman was almost in tears.

‘And these seniors, do you know them?’ 

'Uh, no, no sir’ the watchman was wiping his face, but suddenly Khar loomed in front of him, pulling a chair beside Pavil.

‘I..uh..think I know them. Uh..they get in trouble often’

Pavil was making notes in his notebook ‘What kind of trouble?’ he asked.

‘Uh..sir..they’re often caught smoking and getting in fights with other kids..uh’

Khar’s hands were steepled in front of his face ‘and?’ he asked in his deep tenor

‘They often bullied Tejan and Majid after school’ the watchman despondently replied.