The scent that lingers -20

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 
Read Part 9 - here
Read part 10- here
Read part 11- here 
Read part 12- here
Read part 13 -here
Read part 14 -here
Read part 15 -here
Read part 16 -here
Read part 17 -here
Read part 18 -here

Read part 19 -here

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Now there were three people that Pavil knew of, closely associated with the dead boy, smoking the same cigarettes. This was just coincidence, wasn’t it? It was also ridiculous.

Pavil hadn’t had a calm moment to himself ever since he saw Nehar smoking the cigarette, but why was he so bothered?

Khar had religiously spent a few minutes, every few minutes over the phone, talking to the forensics lab, telling them to expedite the process.

These things take time, he knew and it was with all the emphasis at his disposal that he told them to do everything in their power even if it meant putting every other case on the back-burner.

But there was no rushing these things, he knew, and so he resigned to an odd meditative stance.

‘Are we not going to discuss the fact that Nehar smoked the same cigarettes?’ Pavil finally asked.

He’d been anxiously rubbing his palms every few seconds and Khar knew this to be his way of alleviating stress. 

‘You know’ Khar spoke in a resigned tone, I expected some clothes to glow after the application of luminol, almost hoped there’d be some blood present, in trace amounts, but Veda’s wardrobe stayed disquietingly dark. 

Not a peek of a glow. What do you think that means?’ he smiled

‘It means that he knows how to clean clothes after they’ve been stained with blood’ Pavil replied irritated.

‘Could be, or maybe he burnt them or perhaps didn’t commit the crime’ Khar took a deep breath.

Pavil’s face was quick to lose colour. ‘So now? what do we do? You’re most discouraging’

‘Really? what thought did you have when you saw Nehar with the cigarette?’ 

Pavil didn’t reply.

There was an odd agitation to the young recruit.

Khar had forgotten most of these emotions, and working alongside Pavil reminded him of a time when he was just as enthusiastic. His inexperienced naivety was almost balanced by his unbridled passion, and passion was something Khar didn’t wish to rediscover.

‘I still think it’s Veda. He won't tell us where he was, won’t call for a lawyer. He is scared of something. There’s guilt in him, and you know that, Khar’

Khar had seen something of a fleeting guilt on Veda’s face, and he’d also seen a good many actors and so refrained from making any guesses.

‘When will the forensic results be back?’ 

‘A few days at least.’ Khar calmly replied.

Pavil wanted to discuss every thread of this case until Khar was convinced of Veda’s involvement, but this, he knew was what he desired to keep himself convinced of it.

If the forensic reports turned out contradictory then they’d have to begin from the beginning and he couldn’t take any more of that.

He didn’t want to go back to the school, didn’t want to see the same faces and ask the same questions, and resurface with same conclusions. 

If there was anything missing then it should be glaring them in the face. Until now the only silver lining was the absence of Veda’s alibi and why else would he lie about coming back to the city in the evening when he had surreptitiously arrived in the afternoon.

What was the big secret?

The forensic lab didn’t seem to be in an eager rush to cooperate with the police department and their sluggish pace was further interrupted by the existence of a weekend. 

Most of their lab technicians took to vigorously celebrating these blighted days and Khar wanted to punch a hole through his wall if not wring a few necks when on Monday he was informed that the report was still a few days away. These things take time he had been told for the hundredth time and as calm as his exterior depicted, he roared with exasperated anger on the inside.

There were hardly any items worth the tests.

All of Veda’s clothing was squeaky clean, the initial tests had been negative. Most of the saws from his work-shed, in fact, all, barring one seemed to be incriminating, but seeing how any one of those could be the potential instrument of death, the tests could not be rushed. Mistakes would not be tolerated, and so Khar tolerated the sloth-like agility the forensics lab exhibited.

It would all be redundant soon, and neither Khar nor Pavil saw it coming.

Khar had been distracting himself with paperwork to keep himself from calling the forensics lab when Pavil blew into his office wearing an excited expression.

‘Jumaid called. He’s coming to see us’

‘Oh,’ Khar leaned back in his chair, waiting for Pavil to continue.

‘I don’t know what it is about. But he sounded ill at ease.. almost in tears’

Khar smiled. He found it most amusing, even entertaining that Pavil displayed every shade of wide-eyed spontaneousness. 

There was excitement in his every word, each statement laden with conjecture and imaginative theories, and theories even far-fetched imaginative ones were sometimes welcome in tricky cases. 

Gut feelings weren’t much reliable, but he’d known to believe in them when they gathered to scream a cacophony of impending doom, and the orchestra for a cacophony had begun gathering.

Jumaid looked like he'd’ been dug up from a grave. The last time they’d seen him a few weeks back, he’d almost seemed hale and recovered from the trauma of their son’s murder, but now it seemed like much had deteriorated since their last meet.

He seemed like a man languishing at the bottom of his grief, unable to swim to the surface of life.

He looked consumed.

‘Mr Wasim’ Khar said almost nonchalantly in way of formal greeting, seemingly unbothered and masking his cognizance of the exoskeleton of a person standing in front.

Jumaid’s pale face was streaked with red spots. He looked to have been crying, his eyes told the story and yet they burned with shame.

‘Please have a seat’

‘Khar, please let me just say what I have come to say’ Jumaid’s voice was thick and weepy.

He could have burst into tears anytime now and Pavil as curious as he was, imitated Khar’s stoic stance and poker face.

‘Then please do’ Khar said.

Jumaid inhaled deep, pressing his lips together, he looked like he was having difficulty saying what he had come to say.

A tear rolled down his face which he didn’t bother wiping ‘You’re wrongly suspecting Veda’ he said looking away from Khar ‘He was with me on the afternoon of Sunday, November 13th’

Pavil heard a low chocking sound emanating from someplace deep within him and hoped it wasn’t audible.

Khar sat motionlessly. His face as straight as ever. ‘If you could please elaborate’ he said.

Jumaid sat down and broke into uncontrollable sobs. ‘He..Veda was with me. We were together that afternoon.’

‘I thought you were just acquaintances.’ Pavil said simply, almost childlike when suddenly the truth of Jumaid’s statement dawned on him ‘you mean you were together like uh..lovers?’

‘yes’ Jumaid rasped.