‘As I said, these are my best estimates at this time. I can give you this paper if you wish. It has the details of what I just said.’ He handed the paper over to Athreya.
‘I understand you were talking to Phillip before you stepped out of the mansion. You may well have been the last person he talked to. Can you tell me what you talked about?’
Athreya could see that the lawyer’s mind was working furiously. He had perhaps not realized that he was the last person Phillip had spoken to.
‘We spoke mostly about Phillip’s abilities as a painter,’ Varadan said slowly. ‘His main point was that he was an artist with no creativity—a strange animal by his own assessment. His fingers could paint exceedingly well, to the extent that they could produce almost identical copies of a landscape before him or of the works of the masters in front of him.
‘But, by himself, he was unable to imagine a picture to paint. So, he was, he repeated several times, a painter with zero creativity. “What else can you say of an artist who can’t create a painting of his own?” he asked. I was forced to agree with the logic of his argument. That’s what we mostly talked about. He felt sad about it, and considered himself lesser for it. The tag of an artist, he felt, was ill-deserved.’
‘How was his mood?’ Athreya asked.
‘Pensive. Subdued.’
‘Did he seem out of sorts?’
‘Difficult for me to say; I hardly knew him.’
‘Yet, he opened up to you, didn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ said Varadan, nodding. ‘I wonder why. I am not a person who normally inspires such confidences. Perhaps he wanted someone to talk to. I noticed that he said little during the party except when the subject was painting. He seemed a lonely man.’
‘Thank you, Mr Varadan,’ Athreya concluded. ‘That was useful. Who wants to go next? We can adjourn to the study.’ But with Dora and Manu having set the precedent, nobody wanted to appear less forthcoming.
After a long pause, Michelle spoke up.
‘I’ll go next,’ she said.
‘Go into the study, girl,’ Bhaskar rumbled. ‘Don’t let Dora and Manu’s choices affect yours.’
‘I’m fine, Uncle,’ Michelle responded with a wan smile.
‘I’d rather say my piece here. What’s there to hide? I may have my problems and I may have my timings mixed up, but I know that I didn’t kill Phillip.
‘Mr. Athreya, I am not as sure about my timings as Mr. Varadan or my cousins are. I seldom look at my watch, except when I am taking a patient’s pulse. I’ll do my best, but please don’t hold it against me if I make a mistake.’
‘Do your best, Michelle,’ Athreya said encouragingly.
‘That’s the most anyone can ask of you.’
‘I will, thanks. I think I stepped out of the mansion a little after Dora and Manu did. I say this because I remember seeing them walk out. I must have come out ten minutes or so after they left. That makes it…’ Michelle stumbled and referred to a piece of paper on which she had scribbled something ‘about 11:45 p.m. I strolled along the walkways for some time, and when I passed Sunset Deck, I saw Abbas there. I sat down with him and we chatted for a while.’
Athreya remembered seeing Michelle and Abbas walking out together the previous night, shortly after Manu and Dora had left. He wondered why Michelle was giving him a slightly different version of events. Was she misremembering? Or was it deliberate?
‘For how long?’ Athreya asked aloud.
‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe for half an hour? After that, I walked for some more time and met Mr Varadan. He said that he had stepped out of the mansion at …’ Michelle consulted her paper again. ’12:27 a.m. From what he said, Abbas and I must have spoken for…twenty-five minutes or so.
‘I won’t repeat what Mr Varadan has already said. After chatting with Mr Varadan, I returned to the mansion and went up to my room. So I must have come back to my room just short of 1 a.m. I brushed my teeth and went to bed. I didn’t hear anything at night. When I woke up, it was 8 a.m. I must have come down at quarter past eight, after which I spoke to Murugan and Gopal. We were quite perplexed and worried when you and Dora came in. After that, you know the story.’
Athreya had a number of questions to ask, but he decided not to do so in public. He would speak to her separately later.
‘Thank you, Michelle,’ he said. ‘If you remember anything else, please do tell me.’
‘I know that my account is vague and my timings, imprecise,’ Michelle persevered. ‘But, honest to God, I had nothing to do with Phillip’s death. Do you believe me, Mr Athreya?’ It was almost a plea.
‘How do you expect him to answer that question?’ Bhaskar interposed gently.
‘But I am telling the truth, Uncle.’
‘I’m sure you are, Michelle. But don’t embarrass Mr Athreya by asking questions he can’t answer.’
‘We’ll go next,’ Ganesh butted in, to everyone’s relief. ‘Jilsy and I. There isn’t much to tell, but I’ll go first and Jilsy will add to it. That okay?’ he asked his wife.
She nodded silently.
‘Honestly, I don’t remember when or how I got to my room,’ Ganesh went on. ‘I must have had a drink too many. That doesn’t happen often, you know. I can hold my rum. It must have been the cognac I had after dinner. But it was a wonderful cognac, Mr. Fernandez. I must try it again tonight.’
Jilsy nudged him. For a moment, he gaped at her uncomprehendingly. Then he continued.
‘As I was saying, I don’t know when or how I reached my room. The last thing I remember
