BALSANO LANDSCAPES BOUGHT FOR $27 MILLION
Four paintings by renowned artist Fabian Balsano were auctioned for an astonishing price of $26,850,000. The paintings, sold by the estate of the German billionaire Stefan Koch, were purchased by an agent on behalf of an unknown buyer.
Athreya replied asking his contact to compare Jacob Lopez’s fingerprints with the sets that he had sent, and to see if any link between Jacob and Philipose could be established.
He then sent a message to Rajan, asking him to call once he was awake, and was surprised to receive a call right away. Rajan, it seemed, had risen before the sun.
‘Do you know anyone in Coorg?’ Athreya asked. ‘I need to have some enquiries made urgently, preferably before people start work today.’
‘There is a team looking into drug trafficking in the Western Ghats,’ Rajan said. ‘There is apparently a chain operating from Kodai to Ooty to Coorg. They were here on Saturday, when they met me. A member of the team has gone to Coorg. I can speak to him. What do you need him to do?’
Athreya told him.
Two hours later, Athreya was riding in the police wagon that was carrying Sebastian’s body to Coonoor for an autopsy. Leaving Greybrooke Manor in Inspector Muthu’s charge, with instructions not to let anyone leave, especially Abbas, Athreya had hitched a ride to Coonoor.
His first stop was the police lock-up where the mongrel was being detained. After verifying with the policemen on duty that he had been in the jail all night, Athreya went to speak to the prisoner.
The nickname turned out to be apt. It perfectly described the small-built, bellicose man, who was given to quick movements. He had an angular face with quick, hostile eyes and ears that seemed to stand out a little from his head. A narrow mouth under a drooping moustache and twitching eyebrows completed the picture.
The mongrel watched warily as Athreya entered the cell. He remained silent, made no movement and stared unblinkingly. A constable brought a chair for Athreya, which he took silently.
When the constable left, the mongrel finally spoke.
‘Who are you?’ he asked, his voice sounding like the soft growl.
‘I am investigating Phillip’s murder,’ Athreya replied. ‘I heard about your offer to Mr Fernandez.’
Slowly, the wary look melted, and a smug one took its place. The prisoner relaxed visibly as his eyes ran over Athreya afresh, taking in the lack of uniform or anything else that could be remotely official. Athreya could almost hear his thoughts: ‘Here is a private representative of Bhaskar, having come to negotiate.’
‘I have said what I had to say,’ the mongrel declared quietly. ‘It is Fernandez’s turn to act. There is nothing to talk about till he fulfils his part of the bargain.’
‘Is there a bargain?’ Athreya asked mildly. ‘The lawyer carried your offer to Mr Fernandez. What makes you think he accepted it?’
‘He has no choice!’ the little man snarled, looking more like a mongrel than ever. ‘Otherwise, he will never know who took out a contract on him.’
‘He already knows,’ Athreya countered. ‘So do I. So does everyone else at Greybrooke Manor.’
‘You lie!’
A moment later, the mongrel grinned as he grew assured. He let out a long chuckle. He seemed to think Athreya was bluffing. He leaned back and laced his fingers.
‘I know your type,’ he said. ‘You have come to negotiate. You will first bluff. Then you will act as if nothing matters to Fernandez. And finally, you will threaten.’
‘You seem to be very sure of yourself,’ Athreya chuckled. ‘For a man who holds no trump cards, you are overly confident and brash. You are playing from a poor hand, my friend. You hold no high cards–no aces or kings. Only small, useless cards.’
‘Ah! This is the first scene where you bluff.’ The little man smirked. ‘Go on, go on. I’ll play along.’
‘Excellent!’ Athreya nodded. ‘Since we understand each other, let me tell you a little story. I’m talking about what you did three months ago.
‘After dinner, when it was dark and misty, you skulked over to Greybrooke Manor from the Misty Valley Resort. You walked alone with the only companion you trusted–a narrow dagger with a wooden handle bound in leather.
‘On reaching the mansion, you waited. You saw Sebastian and the younger Fernandez go about the house, locking the doors and windows. But you were not concerned. You knew that you would have a way in when the time came. You waited for the sign from the window of the middle room on the ground floor, the room I am now staying in. It was then occupied by Phillip.’
The mongrel’s smirk faded a little at the mention of the name and the identification of the window.
‘At length, the window opened and the sign came. All you had to do was to climb up six or seven feet to the windowsill. You did that, and entered the room. You then opened the door and entered the dark corridor, where you turned right. Old man Fernandez must be asleep by now, you thought. In any case, he was a cripple.
‘But you were mistaken. Mr Fernandez was not asleep. Nor was he as helpless as you supposed. You entered and went towards his bed, only to find him rising with a gun in his hand. Did you know that he chose not to kill you?
‘You dropped your dagger when the bullet hit your leg. You had a choice to make, as you were already halfway into his room. You could go back the way you came, but Phillip’s door may be closed. Alternatively, there was a set of unbarred French windows in front of you. You chose the latter.
‘Somehow, you limped your way to the Misty Valley Resort where Ismail hid you. The same night, a vehicle took you to Coimbatore, were a crooked doctor dressed your bullet wound.’
Athreya paused and waited for
