Puri looked into the second room through the connecting door and could see that it was similarly basic, except there were two beds and one of these – the one farthest from the door near the window – had a privacy curtain drawn around it.
“Baldev, you’re there?” whispered Puri.
“Yes, Boss,” answered Tubelight.
“You’re fine?”
“I’m getting hungry.”
“You didn’t eat, is it?”
“There wasn’t time.”
“Then let us hope the wait is not long.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Puri pulled away from the door, leaving it open a fraction.
“How we’ll know when the murderer arrives?” he asked Singh.
“I propose we keep the light off and position a chair here by this connecting door. If we leave it open a little, we can take turns keeping vigil.”
The detective, who had brought along his .32 IOF pistol, agreed to this plan and asked that the inspector take the first watch – “Otherwise my food will be getting cold.”
By the moonlight coming in through the window, Puri then went about unpacking his takeaway on the side table next to the bed. Soon the room – and no doubt the room beyond – was filled with the heady aroma of Hyderabadi biryani and the sounds of his munching.
It was ten past eight when Puri’s mobile phone, which was on silent mode, vibrated inside his pocket. He looked at the screen. Zia.
“Ji?” answered Puri in a whisper.
“Fossil has left home, Boss. We’re in pursuit,” reported Zia, who watched a lot of American cop shows and liked to use the lingo. ‘Fossil’ was code for Shivraj Sharma.
“Very good, send update,” was all the detective said before ending the call.
“Who was that?” whispered Inspector Singh, who was still keeping vigil.
“Some of my boys,” said Puri, sitting down on a chair next to him.
“And?”
“They’re following one suspect.”
“A suspect in the Jha-Pandey murder?”
“Correct, but I am doubtful he’s the one.”
“When were you going to tell me about him?”
“Inspector, you know me, huh. I don’t like to declare before end of innings.”
For a couple of minutes, the only sounds came from the squeaking fan overhead and the beeping of the ECG in Tubelight’s room.
“Are there any other suspects?” asked Singh.
“Two exactly.” Iwo!
“Inspector, please keep down your voice.”
“OK, sir, but are you going to tell me who they are?”
“One of them will enter that room before long and then you will have your answer.”
There was another long silence.
“Sir, I want to know one thing… When did you conclude there were two suspects?”
“This evening at six o’clock I met with Professor Pandey’s elder sister and came by certain information that convinced me of as much.”
Just then, his mobile vibrated again and he returned to the other side of the room to answer it.
“Boss, Fossil isn’t heading your way,” reported Zia. “He’s crossing the Jamuna.”
“Fine. Keep him in your sights.”
“Ten-tour.”
Puri lay down on the bed to have a rest, but found it incredibly hard and uncomfortable. Curious, he checked under the mattress, only to discover that it was resting on a heavy steel-plate support.
He concluded steel had been used as a deterrent to thieves, who would make easy pickings of, say, springs or wooden slats.
Presumably that meant all the beds in the hospital were the same.
In his mind, an idea began to form.
It was almost eleven. Puri was beginning to regret that he had not bought himself some kheer when the door to Tube-light’s room opened a crack. A thin streak of light shone on the wall. A head appeared, the face masked by shadows. It withdrew. A moment later, the door opened a little wider and a male figure slipped inside.
Puri stood up slowly, his pistol at the ready, and signaled to Singh.
The figure closed the door behind him, and as his eyes adjusted to the semidarkness, he sized up the room. Silently he approached the first bed and picked up a pillow. Then he made his way across the room to the second bed. He found a gap in the curtain and looked inside. Puri saw him tug out a pistol tucked beneath his belt. He cocked it, buried the muzzle in the pillow and sidled in behind the curtain.
A moment later, there came three dull thuds.
Singh, who was by now standing to one side of the connecting doorway with his revolver drawn, shouted out: “Put down your weapon! You are under arrest!”
Suddenly there came sounds of a struggle. Someone went “Aaaagh!” The killer’s pistol clunked to the ground. And then Tubelight, who had ensconced himself under the bed’s steel-plate support, called out: “I’ve got him!”
Singh charged into the room and tore back the curtain.
He grabbed the shooter by both arms and shoved him up against the wall.
Puri switched on the light.
Roughly, Singh turned his captive around.
“Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you,” said the detective. “This is one Jaideep Prabhu. Better known as Manish the Magnificent.”
Cursing, the magician lunged at Puri, his features suffused with malice and hatred, trying to kick at him like a wild mule. Singh kept a strong grip on his captive and pulled him back, giving him a hard slap across the back of the head.
“That’s enough out of you, bastard!” he shouted. “From now on you speak only when I tell you to speak.”
Manish the Magnificent cursed Singh as well. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”
“As far as you are concerned, I am God!” The inspector handcuffed the magician. “I am placing you under arrest for the double murder of Dr. Suresh Jha and Professor R.K. Pandey.”
The magician scoffed. “You can’t prove anything.”
By now Puri was holding Manish the Magnificent’s double-action revolver with his handkerchief wrapped around it.
“You have been good enough to supply all the evidence required,” he said with a smile.
“That’s not mine. I’ve never seen it before!”
Singh gave Manish the Magnificent a hard slap across the face. “I told you to shut up!” he bawled, shoving the magician down onto a chair. “Don’t make me tell you again!”
Manish the Magnificent glowered at him.
Singh raised his hand again as if to strike. “Oi harami!” he swore. “Keep your eyes down or I won’t just break your bones, I’ll grind them to dust!”
This time the magician had the good sense to do as he was told.
“Better,” said Singh. He turned and addressed Puri: “Now before I take this son of a whore to the station, would you mind telling me what the hell has been going on?”
“Most certainly, Inspector.”
They stood by the main door to the room, leaving Tube-light closest to the captive.
