climax. When the noise had died down, Puri asked about Kasliwal's hearing.
'It's set for tomorrow at eleven o'clock,' he told the detective. 'I'm trying to get it heard by one of the few honest judges. But seems no one's willing to lift a finger to help. My enemies have made sure of that.'
Kasliwal cast a look over his shoulder.
'Looks like I'll be spending a night in the penthouse suite, huh.' He laughed sardonically. 'Thank God there's a couple of cops in here I helped out some years back, so I shouldn't be facing harassment. But, Puri-ji, a few hundred bucks wouldn't go amiss. That way at least I can get some outside food brought in.'
'You'll find five hundred stuffed inside the cigarette packet, sir,' whispered Puri.
Kasliwal nodded gratefully as the woman constable called out, 'Time's getting over!'
The two men shook hands.
'I'll be in court tomorrow for sure,' said the detective. 'In meantime, don't do tension, sir. Rest assured, everything is being done to secure your release. The responsibility is on my head. Already some very promising clues are there. Now take rest.'
As Puri was making his way out of the station, the duty officer informed him that Inspector Shekhawat wanted 'a word.'
'By all means,' said the detective, who was anxious to get the measure of his adversary.
Puri was led upstairs straight into his office.
Shekhawat was in his late thirties, stocky, well built, with a thick head of black hair, an equally thick moustache and dark, deep-set eyes. He was the embodiment of the supremely confident Indian male who is taught self-assurance within the extended family from day one. The kundan studs in his ears did not indicate a hip, arty or effeminate man; he was a Rajput of the Kshatriya or warrior caste.
'Sir, it's a great honor to meet you,' he said in Hindi in a deep, booming voice. Shekhawat offered Puri his hand with a big politician's grin. 'I've been an admirer of yours for quite some time. Thank you for taking the time to see me. I know that you are a busy and important man.'
Puri was not altogether immune to flattery, but he doubted Shekhawat's sincerity. Behind the smile and friendly handshake, he sensed a calculating individual who had invited him into his office with the sole purpose of ascertaining whether he posed a threat.
'I was hoping we would meet,' said Puri, replying in Hindi, his tone perfectly amicable. 'It seems we're working on the same case but from different ends. We might be able to help each other.'
Shekhawat seemed bemused by this suggestion. He smiled with slow deliberation as he resumed his place behind his desk and Puri sat down in a chair opposite him.
'It's my understanding that Ajay Kasliwal is your client, is that correct?' asked the inspector.
'That's right.'
'Then I'm not sure how we can help each other, sir. I want to see Kasliwal convicted; you on the other hand want to see him walk free. There is no middle ground.'
One of the phones on the inspector's tidy desk rang. He picked up the receiver. Hearing the voice on the other end prompted a subtle change in the man's bearing. He stiffened and his eyebrows slowly slid together until they were almost joined.
'Sir,' he said. There was a pause as he listened. Then he said again, 'Sir.' He met Puri's gaze, held it for a second and then looked down. 'Sir,' he repeated.
While the detective waited, he looked up at the photographs and certificates that hung on the wall behind the desk. From these he was able to piece together much of Shekhawat's life. He'd gone to a government school in Jaipur, where he'd been a hockey champion. He'd married extremely young; his wife could not have been a day over sixteen. They'd had four children together. He'd attended the Sardar Vallabhai Patel National Police Academy in Hyderabad and studied to be an officer. Three years ago, he'd been awarded a Police Medal for Meritorious Service.
'Must have been for a big case,' said Puri when Shekhawat hung up the phone after a final 'Sir.' 'The Meritorious Service award, I mean.'
'I caught the dacoit, Sheshnag,' he bragged. 'He'd eluded our forces for thirteen years but I personally tracked him down to his hideout and arrested him.'
'I read about it in the papers. So you were the one,' said Puri. 'Many congratulations, Inspector! It was a fine piece of detective work. Must have been very satisfying.'
'Yes, it was. But frankly, sir, I take far greater satisfaction from arresting a man like Ajay Kasliwal. He is the worst kind of criminal. For too long, men like him have roamed free. Money and influence have kept them safe from prosecution. But thankfully times are changing. Now the big cats must face justice for their crimes like all the animals in the jungle. We are living in a new India.'
'I admire your principles,' said Puri. 'I'm all for evenhandedness. But my client is a good man and he's innocent.'
'Sir, with respect, Kasliwal is as guilty as Ravan,' said Shekhawat with an arrogant smirk. 'I have all the evidence I need to put him away forever. He raped and murdered that young woman.'
'You're certainly confident,' said Puri, hoping to coax the inspector into showing all of his hand.
'I've three witnesses who saw Mr. Kasliwal dump the body by the roadside.'
'So I understand, but why was no charge brought against my client for two months?'
Shekhawat answered decisively. 'The witnesses took time to come forward because they were scared of intimidation from the client, who threatened them at the scene.'
Puri allowed himself a chuckle.
'I very much doubt that will hold up in court.'
'I have hard evidence as well.'
'How can there be more evidence when the accused is innocent?'
'For that, sir, you will have to wait until tomorrow. I am not at liberty to divulge anything more.'
The detective held up his hands in a gesture of defeat.
'Well, I can see I'm going to have my work cut out proving my client's innocence,' he said. 'Obviously you are determined to see this thing through, so I suppose I'd better get back to my work.'
Puri lingered for a moment by the door, looking down absentmindedly as if he'd forgotten something.
'There's something else I can help you with?' asked Shekhawat in the patient tone reserved for children and the senile.
'There is one thing, actually,' said Puri, suddenly sounding unsure of himself.
He took out his notebook and flipped through the pages until he came to one in the middle crammed with illegible writing.
'Yes, that's it,' he said, as if reading from it. 'From what I'm told, the girl's body was cremated after no one came to claim it. Is that correct?'
'That's true.'
'And the photograph taken by the coroner was out of focus and extremely grainy.'
Shekhawat eyed Puri suspiciously, no doubt wondering how he had come by this information.
'If you say so,' he said.
'Also,' continued the detective, 'her face was all bashed up, bloody and swollen. She'd obviously been given a severe beating.'
The inspector's nod was vague encouragement to go on.
'Given this, I'm curious to understand how you can be sure she is the maidservant Mary.'
'That's not in dispute. Two witnesses have identified her from the coroner's photographs.'
'Former or current employees of the Kasliwals, no doubt.'
'The defense will be informed at the appropriate time,' said Shekhawat officiously.
Facecream had discovered a gap in the perimeter wall behind the servant quarters just large enough for a
