department,” she insisted over Puri’s protests. “The invention he used was his own. The rights now belong to his sister. It will be up to her to decide whether to go public or not. You are welcome to her number if you like.”
She wrote it down for him as they watched the last few minutes of the tape – the climactic moment when the sword was ‘plunged’ into Dr. Jha; the second flash in which Kali disappeared; the pandemonium that followed.
“So while others were distracted, you slipped away,” he said to Rupin.
“Yes, sir,” answered the volunteer. “I was able to take off the arms, boots and costume in under one minute. Then we wheeled away the ice cream cart, using the tree trunk as cover. Naturally, my face was still black, but it did not attract any undue attention. I easily passed for a rag picker.”
“You took the bird box and camera, also?”
“That we retrieved later once the crowd had formed.”
“Ved Karat told me he felt Dr. Jha’s pulse but could not find one. How was it done?” he asked.
“Simple, sir.” It was Rupin speaking again. “Dr. Jha had a golf ball taped to his underarm. As he was playing dead, he squeezed it against his chest. The pressure slowed his pulse enough to be undetectable. It’s an old guru trick. They use it during yoga to prove they have reached an elevated state.”
Puri asked that the tape be rewound.
“Concerning the ice cream cart – you said two compartments were there. But you failed to tell what all was kept in the second.”
“It was a small petrol generator,” answered Ms. Ruchi, hesitating. “But – ”
“What all it was used for is a question for Professor Pan-dey’s sister, is it?” Yes, sir.
The detective nodded. “Why no one heard it? The generator, that is. Those things make quite a racket, no?”
“Two reasons, sir,” volunteered Rupin. “One, the ice cream cart was sound insulated. Two, we made all the dogs howl using a high-frequency emitter.”
“What is that exactly?”
“A dog whistle, sir. In some of the members it caused headaches.”
“And the crows? On the tape so many of them can be seen flying overhead.”
“I threw down some pieces of mutton on the ground,” answered Peter. “They attracted the dogs and the crows. Eventually they all got gobbled up.”
Puri watched the tape again. As he did so, nothing in his demeanor indicated that he had noticed something significant.
“Heartiest congratulations all round,” he said when he was finished. “There can be no doubt Dr. Jha was proud of each and every one of you. The operation was most remarkable in every respect. Ms. Ruchi, allow me to compliment your acting skills, also. Vish Puri is not easily fooled. But such a perfect performance you gave.”
“Sir, if it’s any consolation, Dr. Jha felt terrible about knocking you out. He mistook you for a burglar. And what is more, he was worried you would crack the case before long. He said there wasn’t anything you didn’t miss.”
Puri swelled with pride. “Most kind of you, Ms. Ruchi. And now I better be going.”
He made his way back through the reception, but stopped short of the front door.
“Actually one final thing is there,” he said, turning around. “Concerning Professor Pandey. Why he stayed at Maharaj Swami’s ashram last month?”
“How could you possibly know that, sir?” asked Ms. Ruchi.
“I, too, have secrets, no,” replied the detective. “Fact is it has come to my attention Professor Pandey made one donation for fifty thousand bucks.”
“Yes, sir, he has been to the ashram on several occasions, posing as a devotee of Maharaj Swami. He made the donation in order to attend a private seance.”
“Why exactly?”
“Sir, Godmen, like magicians, are constantly coming up with new tricks for their acts. We have to keep abreast of the latest ones. Now and again, Professor Pandey visited ashrams and temples on our behalf in his capacity as an engineer to try to figure out how certain illusions and miracles were being performed. Then we would publish his findings and expose the truth. In this case, he went to see how Maharaj Swami was conjuring the spirit with which he claims to be able to commune.”
“He got it figured out, is it?”
“I believe it was the professor’s conclusion that the God-man was using mirrors reflected off one another. But he had not yet written up his findings.”
The detective gave a satisfied smile.
“Ms. Ruchi, once the case is getting over, I will introduce you to a certain individual who will explain precisely and exactly how it is done,” he promised.
Twenty-Three
Back in his Ambassador, Puri called Professor Pandey’s sister, offered his condolences and stressed how important it was that they meet. Although in mourning and busy making preparations for the funeral, she invited the detective to her residence at six PM.
Next, he phoned Ved Karat and asked to see him immediately – “a matter of some great urgency, actually.”
The speechwriter was at home, working on the prime minister’s Independence Day address, but said to come straight over.
Puri immediately set out for New Rajendra Nagar. En route, he rang Inspector Singh.
“Haan ji, haan ji. So what progress is there?”
“Everything’s going to plan, sir,” Singh reported. “In two hours we will announce that Professor Pandey’s driver has survived the shooting and is expected to make a full recovery. I’ve arranged for a private room at St. Stephens. It’s on a busy corridor where people come and go all the time.”
“Tip-top. My man will be there in one hour,” said Puri, referring to Tubelight. “My guess is the murderer will do the needful after dark. Therefore I will reach St. Stephens at seven-thirty. You will be present also, is it?”
“Yes, sir. Are you sure the murderer will come?”
“Has to, Inspector. He cannot and will not take the chance Dr. Jha could identify him. It is not a question of whether the plan will work, only a question of who it will work against.”
“What if he sends someone else – a hired killer?”
“Let us cross that bridge should it rise up.”
“Speaking of which, sir, I am reliably informed that Ma-haraj Swami was in Delhi last night,” said Singh.
“He touched down at Safdarjung Airport at 12:07 yesterday. Then this morning he reverted to Haridwar. That was in the wee hours,” said Puri.
“You’re having him followed?”
“Unfortunately, that is not possible. He travels WIP with security escort. I came to know by checking the airport log only.”
“You think he’s our man, sir?”
“Inspector, allow me to assure you, by hook or crook His Holiness Maharaj Swami will face arrest,” said Puri. “Please have your handcuffs on standby.”
Ved Karat worked in longhand on legal pads; the floor surrounding his desk was strewn with screwed-up pieces of yellow paper.
“I could not sleep last night after hearing about Professor Pandey’s murder,” he said as Puri took the basket chair in his office. The story had made the morning news. “What is the world coming to? The TV said he was shot in his own house?”
“Yes, sir.”
