The scent that lingers- 17

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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 
Read Part 9 - here
Read part 10- here
Read part 11- here 
Read part 12- here
Read part 13 -here
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Read part 15 -here
Read part 16 -here

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That this day would soon be chasing them on its heels was something Khar had apprehensively predicted in his head and deferred its foreboding consequences day after day until it reached its tipping point.

It was inevitable, he knew and had in some ways prepared for it, but that it could be so violently glaring in its raw form was inconceivable.

It had been two weeks since Majid’s murder, even the news reporters and television channels had found new fodder to exploit, but that didn’t change the fact that the murder was unsolved still, a child’s death in his own school, A mystery most mystifying, was how some horrendous news channels alliterated this crime and it had perhaps stopped being that mystifying ever since Khar spoke to Mr Veda’s driver.

The motive was unclear, but what Pavil had spoken about revenge wasn’t nearly that far fetched.

Khar, in his almost two decades in the force, had seen murders with far more vague motives or far lesser intense reasons, but now that a child was involved it’d made matters grotesquely disturbing. 

It was almost bloodthirsty this murder, and worse was the fact that Khar had instead of keeping lids closed on any scandals managed to rip open a can of worms that infected his reasoning.

What does one say of scandals, except they’re a bit like spring.. Their potential energy to snap back with extraordinary force and turn into an even more exaggerated version of their previous self is notable.

Khar had often noticed Pavil’s visible perplexity at his presence in this case, at least he was openly confused about it the first couple days, and it was odd indeed. 

What was a senior investigating officer from the Central Bureau of Investigation doing getting involved in the preliminary murder investigation that took place in a small town? Yes, what was Khar doing was the question he’d often asked himself, and he knew the answer.

He’d been expressly appointed by the head of his department to help guide the police of this town in a child’s murder; this small town which was a rather large constituency of a top-notch politician. 

The government pulled all the strings, the department owes the government and so does an officer, who was sent to keep matters hushed, to keep media from prying. 

This small town that almost belonged to Veda Sinhal was not to be associated with any more negative connotations.

He was an important prop for the Government who didn’t want his name conjoined with a town that was privy to such odious ongoings and it was now Khar’s job to keep matters top secret, to keep information from leaking to the press, to quietly investigate and solve the mystery and find the murderer before regaling the success of another solved murder case.

This case with rather sad undertones had now taken over an almost whimsical hue, ironic even, when the man whose esteemed reputation was at risk of being infected with the repugnant occurrence of a child murder in his very own town  , was the very man who was going to be dragged into swampy waters, and with good reason.

If he was indeed the man behind Majid’s murder, then he’d need saving..from Khar

There was something of a quake in Pavil’s demeanour as they walked towards the Sinhal residence. 

The entire journey to their house from office had done little to uplift his morale.

Khar had been acutely grave, more than his usual self and painfully quiet.

It was nearing the end of the month, the winters had broadcasted their hawkish temperament and fastidiously clung to it.

Pavil had unsuccessfully ignored Nehar’s thoughts and as much as he dreaded meeting her today, the nervous knots in his stomach alerted him to the contrary.  

There was another thought, lodged like a barbed wire in the soft flesh at the back of his head; that of Veda Sinhal.

What if he did have an alibi? what then?

This whole investigation for nothing?

They’d reach the edge of the cliff, the only step forward was plunging into the depth of deciphering this mystery, they couldn't retrace their steps backwards anymore, and if they did, where would they go?

What else was left to explore?

Pavil found his reasonings and arguments that pointed his every intuition towards Veda as the killer weakening had it not been for Khar's steady gaze that pierced like a drill through an iron armour.

‘Something stinks’ he sniffed.

‘It’s probably my new cologne’ Pavil replied sheepishly

‘Nehar isn’t home’ Khar almost rolled his eyes.

Pavil’s face blanched and coloured at the same time 

They found Veda Sinhal blowing a cloud of cinnamon smoke.

He was sitting under one of those fancy gazebo’s that liberally dotted their elegant garden.

An ornamental table overworked with delicious tea accoutrements and an expensive looking teapot indicated that he had been expecting them with fortified winter artillery.

‘Care for some tea?’ Veda, the ever wondrous host asked in that elegant voice of his, all too easy on the ears.

He looked stately in his weather appropriate clothing, graceful even in the way he sat and carried himself.

As large a man that he was, there was everything a bit majestic and dignified about him. 

Pavil couldn’t imagine him drinking tea out of the styrofoam cups in their office. It hurt him to think that no other man could be as fitting as Veda to stand beside Nehar. What she saw in Jumaid was beyond his comprehension, but these were thoughts best kept locked inside his head.

Veda was talking about the virtues of tea on a wintery afternoon, when Khar, in his usual steel cold inflection interrupted him. 

‘Mr Sinhal there’s something important we’d like to ask you’ he said

‘Ah!’ Veda considerately folded his hands on his knees and sat attentively.

‘Go on then dear friends, and after that perhaps we could have something to warm us up’ he conjured a thin peacock coloured cigarette from the recesses of his coat pocket and lit it.

Khar’s deep-throated flat voice didn’t budge a wink ‘Where were you, on the afternoon of Sunday, November 13th?

Veda barely flinched ‘I told you, and correct me if I hadn’t’ he smiled ‘that I was in a meeting out of town. I’d left at five in the morning and returned at..’ 

‘at two thirty’ Khar announced

At this Veda Sinhal visibly trembled. His sudden anxiousness depicted in the way he stuck his cigarette to his mouth and looked away while inhaling deep.

Veda’s graceful mien was shaken into that of a guilty child.

‘That’s preposterous’ he tried gathering his smile that seemed jittery.

Khar’s smile, on the other hand, was inhumanly confident.

He pulled out a few photographs from a large envelope. They were grainy on their best day, but clear enough to approximate that image as that of Veda’s. The date and time printed on the image corresponded to his guilt and the large elegant man were suddenly quiet.

‘Well’ Khar resumed in his stony voice. ‘If you have an alibi, then please let us know, or we might have to come back with a search warrant’

Veda didn’t speak. He continued to look fixedly at the ornamental table.

‘You can call for a lawyer’

‘There’s no need for that’ Veda’s voice was small and hurt.

‘If there’s something you'd like to tell us’ Khar spoke softly.

‘No! there’s nothing’ Veda said and looked at Khar.

Khar understood what the diplomat was mutely asking. ‘No one knows of this yet, but if we have further evidence then your arrest will not be a secret’ 

‘I have nothing to say’ Veda muttered in a voice thick with unshed tears.

‘In that case, we will have a search warrant issued and I’ll be back shortly with someone from the forensics to take your DNA sample. Do you agree to that Mr Sinhal?’ Khar asked coldly.

‘Yes’ Veda hid his face behind his large hands.