‘I’m sorry about the way the inspector spoke, Mr. Athreya,’ he began as he sat down on the stone bench beside Athreya. ‘I should have explained who you were before I told him about our searching the chapel.’
‘Don’t give it another thought, Sebastian. I don’t take offence so easily. I’ve dealt with even more hostile police officers before. I will be surprised if Muthu doesn’t back off in the next day or two. I made some calls earlier this morning, and the news will reach him sooner or later.
‘Instead, let’s turn to more useful things. I’ve spoken to most of the others about their movements last night and asked them if they saw or heard anything that was out of place. As we wait for the inspector to finish his examination of the chapel, why don’t you tell me about your movements and whatever you noticed?’
‘That’s what I came for. Mr. Fernandez sent me.’
‘Excellent. Let’s start.’
‘I’m not sure if I have anything significant to say. You will remember that we entered the mansion together. It was a little short of midnight.’
‘11:50 p.m., to be precise,’ Athreya interjected.
‘That sounds right. I came in, checked if Mr. Fernandez was asleep, and then retired at about midnight or a few minutes after.’
‘Was Mr. Fernandez asleep?’
‘He was.’
‘Did you see anyone in the gallery?’
‘No.’ Sebastian turned a startled face towards him.
‘Was someone there?’
‘I don’t know. Had there been someone, would you have seen him or her?’
‘I think so…unless he was flat against the wall, next to the suit of armour.’ He shook his head suddenly.
‘No, that’s not right. How stupid of me! I plugged in the wheelchair to charge. I would have seen if there was anyone in the gallery, even behind the suit of armour.’
‘Is that your routine every night?’
‘Yes. Once Mr. Fernandez retires, I plug in the wheelchair.’
‘Okay. And was the back door closed?’
‘It was. I checked it.’
‘What did you do after that?’
‘Went to my room, changed into my pyjamas and went to bed.’
‘Did you hear anything in the night?’
‘I would be lying if I said I hadn’t. The fact is that I am a light sleeper; more so after the break-in happened. I heard some voices drift in through the window. I also heard a couple of doors opening and closing. One of them must have been Manu’s door, I guess. But I didn’t think much of it. Voices and sounds of doors were expected last night.’
‘Talking about doors, would you have heard the chapel door open?’
Sebastian sat bolt upright.
‘Yes,’ he said, his eyes flashing. ‘The door creaks, and creaks loudly. I would have heard it.’
‘Yet, you didn’t.’
Sebastian nodded. ‘I wonder why. Did I sleep sounder than usual? I didn’t drink much.’
‘The interesting thing is that none of us four who slept on the ground floor—you, Mr Fernandez, Manu and me—heard anything. Yet, the wheelchair was taken. Yet, the chapel door was opened. Yet, Phillip was killed.’
‘Are you trying to suggest something, Mr. Athreya?’
‘I don’t know. It just seems to me that some prior planning was done for last night.’
‘You mean it was premeditated?’
‘Either that, or someone had intended something else. And things went wrong.’
The conversation was interrupted by Muthu opening the chapel door and beckoning Athreya to come in. Sebastian followed Athreya to the chapel door and stopped there, looking at the hinges. From the aisle of the chapel, Athreya threw a glance over his shoulder and saw a perplexed look on Sebastian’s face.
* * *
A couple of hours later, after enduring a belligerent interrogation by Muthu, Athreya was back at the Misty Valley Resort. The inspector had chosen to grill Athreya first, making use of the study for his questioning. He had made Athreya repeat his narrative several times, trying to find inconsistencies. Athreya had patiently repeated his account each time without the slightest deviation.
At length, a frustrated Muthu gave up and dismissed him. Throughout the gruelling hour, Athreya had answered all of the inspector’s questions promptly, but had offered nothing—views or information—proactively.
As Athreya brought his borrowed cycle to a halt at Misty Valley’s gate, he was surprised to find the same security guard he had seen early in the morning. On seeing Athreya, he threw a salute and grinned as he had done earlier in the morning, showing crooked, discoloured teeth.
‘Still here?’ Athreya asked. ‘I thought your duty ended at 8 a.m.?’
‘The manager asked me to stay, sir,’ the guard said conspiratorially. ‘Something has happened at the mansion, he said. I may be wanted.’
‘Smart man, your manager,’ said Athreya, nodding in approval. ‘Tell me, do you know if Mr. Phillip has a maid or someone who helps him keep the house clean?’
‘Yes, sir. Mrs. Carvallo. She goes there every day and tidies up his house.’
‘Where can I find her?’
‘Here, sir. In the resort. She works here and part-time for Mr Phillip. Do you want me to call her?’
‘Yes, please.’
Five minutes later, Athreya was talking to a kindly widow of about sixty, who was wearing her cross prominently. Athreya had left the cycle with the security guard and was walking with Mrs. Carvallo on the mud road running between the resort and Phillip’s house.
‘Is Mr. Phillip all right?’ she asked as soon as she joined Athreya on the road. ‘They say something has happened to him.’
‘All in good time, Mrs. Carvallo,’ Athreya replied. ‘I wanted to ask you a few questions first. When were you inside Mr. Phillip’s house last?’
‘Why, sir, four hours ago. I cleaned the house.’
Athreya swung around and stared at her. If she had cleaned the house, whatever evidence there might have been would now be lost.
‘You cleaned the house?’ Athreya repeated after her stupidly.
‘Yes, sir. I have a key. I clean it every day. Even when he is not at home. I usually go there earlier, but as he is away, I went today at about noon.’
‘Did you find anything out of place?’
‘No, nothing. Everything was as
