‘But once he wrote that will, strange things began happening. His car’s brakes failed; a venomous snake materialized in his bed; he was almost run over in Coonoor. And, to top it all, an intruder broke in and tried to kill him. Someone was trying to hasten Mr Fernandez’s death.
‘Let’s look at it from a motive perspective. It was at once apparent that multiple people potentially had motives. It was not only Mr Fernandez’s relatives who would want him dead, but others too, including his neighbours. Phillip, Father Tobias and Abbas stood to gain from his death.
‘It didn’t take much for Mr Fernandez to realize that someone had hired an outsider to kill him. And so he decided to scrap his earlier will and write two new ones–the first would take effect if he died naturally, and the second, if he was killed. The attacks stopped after that, but it was not clear if they had stopped because of the new wills, or because the wounded intruder was lying low.
‘It so turned out that he was lying low and was planning to return. And return he did, on the night Phillip was killed. For those of you who don’t know, the intruder’s nickname is “the mongrel”. We know now that it was Phillip who had let the mongrel into the mansion that night three months ago. It was amply clear that someone here had hired the mongrel to kill Mr Fernandez.
‘So Phillip’s death begged the obvious question: Did the mongrel kill Phillip by mistake? Did he think Phillip was Mr Fernandez?
‘That was certainly a possibility, as some of you have suggested … except that it didn’t answer one all-important question: What was Phillip doing in the chapel in the wheelchair?
‘That meant that there was more than one crime playing out at Greybrooke Manor. The first was the attempted murder of Mr Fernandez, but there was at least one other plot that needed to be unearthed. To do that, I went into the past, and to Vienna.
‘Soon, I discovered two things. First, it was very likely that Mr Fernandez possessed four very valuable paintings–the Balsano landscapes. Enrico confirmed that Mr Fernandez had spoken to him about them. Second, there was an art thief called Jacob Lopez, who might have come to India under an assumed name. Not just to India, but to this valley. Lopez was the son of Indian parents who had emigrated to Europe when he was a boy.
‘When I looked at the chronology of events that unfolded in Vienna, I discovered that Jacob Lopez had been released from jail late in 2007. And Phillip, who was a newcomer to Vienna, appeared in early 2008. Then, had Jacob reappeared as Phillip?
‘Simultaneously, I was investigating the chapel here, and it became apparent that the altar was the most important piece of the puzzle—all roads seemed to lead to it. On closer examination, I found that the altar was a hiding place. Something of great value had been hidden there. The obvious candidates were the Balsano landscapes.
‘It didn’t take much to put two and two together. Phillip had somehow found out that the paintings had been hidden inside the altar, and that the mechanism to open it was operated by the console of the wheelchair. That is why he had gone to the chapel that night in the wheelchair–to steal the paintings.
‘But someone surprised him that night and slit his throat.
‘Meanwhile, a third development had taken place–the mongrel was caught. It didn’t take long to break him. Within half an hour of making him a proposal, I had his story.
‘He had been skulking around the chapel the night Phillip was killed, and had seen enough to confirm my suspicions. Some of you had been in the garden when you claimed to be in your rooms. Some of you had stayed out longer, and some had gone out after retiring.
‘The mongrel has given a complete confession in writing. He was hired by Ismail–one of the staff members of the Misty Valley Resort–to kill Mr Fernandez. But Ismail was only an agent. He was working on someone’s behalf. We have the name of the person Ismail was representing. Ismail is already in custody.’
Murthy, who had been growing paler by the minute, threw a terrified glance at Abbas. Abbas himself might have turned to stone. Dora was glaring at Abbas, while Bhaskar kept his eyes on Athreya.
‘The mongrel overheard several conversations that murky night,’ Athreya continued. ‘Hiding in the mist, he snuck up close to people as they talked. He narrated a particularly interesting discussion that took place between 1 and 1.45 a.m. that night at the rock garden. There is no doubt now as to who had commissioned the mongrel to kill Mr Fernandez.’
By now, Murthy was visibly trembling. He stole glances at his wife, who sat staring at the carpet with her lips compressed into a hard, straight line. Dora, sitting beside her, slipped a hand through Michelle’s, trying to comfort her.
‘That was not all,’ Athreya went on. ‘We also found out enough to crack a case that the anti-drug team had been working on for some time. There was a drug-trafficking network operating across here, Kodai and Coorg.’
Athreya paused and looked at his watch. It was 7.10 p.m. He glanced out of one of the French windows. Muthu was standing just outside. The inspector nodded.
‘This is the reason I waited till 7 p.m. to begin,’ Athreya said slowly. ‘As we speak, the anti-drug team is raiding several places, including the Misty Valley Resort. They have jammed mobiles, so no calls can go out or come in. Of particular interest is a hidden cellar at the resort.’
Abbas looked as if he was in a trance. He sat still and silent, hardly breathing. Bhaskar threw a quick glance
