Read part 1 - here
Read part 2 - here
Read part 3 - here
---------------------------------------------
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment