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‘I didn’t think this day would ever come’
The cold was snapping in its mood, bitterly crisp and stinging every exposed pore of skin.
Pavil felt the full force of wintry frigid gales the moment he stepped out of the car.
The only respite was that they’d have some answers from the forensics today. The wait had been much awaited though its intensity had been mitigated seeing the new development the past couple days.
For some reason, he’d felt exceptionally confident about today. There was something about this day that sang with mild tunes of alacrity. Today, he knew would bear fruits, hopefully of the non-poisonous varieties.
The forensics lab looked a bit rundown but Pavil’s zeal didn’t abandon him, even as he watched Khar look slightly annoyed at the forensics report.
How could this situation get any worse? If anything the only way they had left was to move forward now that they’d hit their backs against a wall. What was it about this day that made him feel so happy and energized? He’d have to think about it.
‘No news?’ Pavil eagerly asked Khar, who was still flipping the pages of the file the forensics had in their many days of delay made.
‘There is some news’ Khar replied flinging the file on the backseat of the car. He sat at the wheel, looking ahead at particularly nothing and Pavil waited for him to talk.
Khar was deep in thought, and after a long moment of saying nothing looked at Pavil. ‘There’s a DNA match’
Pavil raised his eyebrows in eager excitement and realized Khar was going to bring this conversation to an anticlimactic turn.
‘Veda’s DNA matched the DNA on a saw. Probably the one he scratched his hand on that day when we’d gone to meet him’ Khar sighed and exhaled a long breath that even in the car it looked like plumes of thick fog.
‘Uh..’ Pavil straightened his eyebrows ‘Now?’
‘Now we’ll go the city centre. You can resume your questioning at the hotel and I’ll just pay a visit to the superstore. I’ve been wondering what was so important that Nehar wanted to buy that Sunday even though she knew she’d get late in picking up her son and his friend’
Pavil felt a doubtful prick in his heart and disliked how Khar maintained his scepticism about Nehar. But these were thoughts best kept within.
He wanted to hum a tune but didn’t think it would be appropriate. Khar was miffed, and why wouldn’t he be? But this was something they’d suspected or even expected ever since they found Veda’s alibi.
The strength of the alibi, however, was still precarious and perhaps in that there was some relief, which seemed to slowly diminish when the other proprietor immediately recognized Jumaid’s photograph and even smiled a little.
Pavil felt uneasy walking into Welcome Inn that afternoon. The small matrix of questions he’d thought in his mind came to an abrupt halt when he met the other proprietor of the hotel.
She was an elderly looking respectable lady with a hearing aid which was mostly just for show as Pavil soon found out.
He looked at the thin moustached receptionist he’d met from yesterday standing next to the elderly woman.
‘I’d rather have this conversation privately’ Pavil looked at the slight man whose hair was plastered down the middle with a vengeance, rendering him an oily look which looked hilariously ridiculous.
‘You’ll need me’ He spoke courteously. ‘Amna is deaf-mute’ he said smiling at the old woman.
And to think this was going to a fruitful day.
Pavil felt his eyes roll involuntarily and the numbers of questions that now beleaguered him had nothing to do with the little questionnaire matrix he’d formulated.
‘How does she..uh..Amna manage to work, then?’ he’d asked softly.
The thin man smiled ‘rather efficiently. She’s good with ledgers and numbers and books; moreover, she only comes here on weekends, though she lives at the hotel. Also, the kind of guests we get here are hardly the conversing types, except a few stray tourists. The payments are made in advance and it’s only a question of handing over the keys, really’ he smiled again.
‘And what if there are some complications?’ Pavil asked curiously.
‘Then the guests can write if they don’t understand sign language’
‘I guess most people don’t’ Pavil shrugged. ‘In which case’ he looked at the thin receptionist, I’d like to ask my questions in writing.'
As if suddenly stirring to life, Amna picked up a pen and began writing on a notepad.
Apparently, the benevolent old woman was proficient in reading lips and had no qualms in letting her nephew translate her answers to the police officer.
Pavil sighed.
‘Have you seen this man’ he asked producing Jumaid’s photograph and saw her smile.
The thin receptionist translated her sign language into words for Pavil. ‘She says she’s seen him come here often’
‘Did you see him on Sunday, November 13th?’
Amna checked the calendar and bent over the reception so as to think. The fat register with the names of the visitors from that day lay open and sure enough Jumaid Wasim’s name was among them, just as it was on the computer that Pavil had checked yesterday, but anyone could call himself Jumaid and check in.
Amna suddenly straightened and nodded
‘Yes, she says’
‘Uh, what time?’
She tapped against the time mentioned on the register. It said twelve, just as Jumaid had told them and the check out was at six.
‘He seemed to be accompanied by a rather large man during check out, but I couldn’t say for sure and didn’t see him much because he had left for the bar and ordered something’ She checked the computer ‘he’d ordered coffee’ the thin receptionist was tirelessly translating.
‘Did he leave anytime after checking in? Did you see this other large man come in to the hotel?’ He felt tempted to show her Veda’s picture but how could he? For whatever reason they’d to maintain his identity in this whole affair a secret. No one could know of these liaisons.
Amna bent forward on the reception again and massaged her head with her palms. ‘I don’t remember’ she shrugged as she made the sign.
‘Well, do you remember anything else from that day? Anything at all? Anything that seemed off or different or suspicious in anyway.’ Pavil’s expressions were clouded by an urgency and exasperation which the elderly lady seemed to understand.
‘I’ll try and recall the entire day and have a call made to you in case I remember anything’ The receptionist translated and Amna smiled compassionately.
Pavil was greeted by a brightness that momentarily stung his eyes after the dim insides of Welcome Inn. How anyone could even recognize faces in that bleary hotel was a mystery.
He met Khar near the car and it looked like he’d done a bit of shopping himself.
‘Find anything?’ Pavil pleasantly smiled and felt the enthusiasm that the day had imbued in him returning back.
Khar seemed momentarily pensive, but his face resumed its usual stiffness.
He pulled out a large knife in a sturdy plastic casing. Pavil had never seen something like that before. It had a short black handle and the blade was over eight inches long with one inch breadth and sharp saw like ridged edges.
The stinging cold from morning had turned to bland warmth against Pavil’s goose bumped skin. He felt his face growing hot and sweat pooling under his armpits.
‘What’s this?’
‘It’s a bread knife. It was one among the few many things Nehar bought that Sunday from this supermarket’ Khar replied gravely.
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