At length, he stirred. He had decided what he needed to do next. He had to spend some time alone in the chapel. Just as he rose, his phone rang for the third time. It was the police doctor. He had done the autopsy the previous night.
‘You were right, sir,’ he said. ‘The contents of the stomach show it clearly. The victim was killed between one and a half and two hours after his last meal. If dinner finished at 11 p.m., he was killed between 12:30 a.m. and 1 a.m.’
Athreya slowly pocketed his phone and made his way back to the mansion. The case had changed drastically. There were a number of people who had been up and about between 12:30 a.m. and 1 a.m. And his hunch had been right.
Michelle had lied about the time of death.
* * *
Athreya went early to the dining room, about ten minutes before breakfast was to start, and stood there for a moment looking around. He went to the near end of the long table and sat down on the chair there, surveying the other chairs around the table. After a brief moment, he rose and adjusted the position of some chairs that were set along the two long sides of the table, then returned to the chair on which he had just sat.
The head of the table was where Bhaskar always sat, and it was often one of the younger folk who sat at the other end. Today, Athreya wanted to sit at the tail end of the table for a reason. As he settled into the chair and began reading a newspaper, Manu walked in.
‘Good morning, Mr Athreya,’ he said as his glance lingered on Athreya and his choice of seat.
‘Morning, Manu,’ Athreya replied.
‘Trying a different seat today, sir?’ Manu asked with a smile.
Athreya shrugged and returned the smile.
‘Not a bad idea,’ Manu continued as he strolled over and took one of the chairs on the side of the table. ‘Who knows, it may give you a fresh perspective.’
Athreya blinked in surprise. Was it just a fluke, or was the younger man uncommonly perspicacious? Either way, he had got it right.
‘Always useful, isn’t it?’ Athreya replied. ‘A new perspective.’
‘Good morning, Mr. Athreya,’ Dora’s voice sounded from behind as she walked in. ‘I was looking for you in the drawing room. I saw you jogging early. Hope you have worked up an appetite.’
‘Good morning, Mr. Athreya,’ Sebastian echoed as he wheeled in Bhaskar in the unmotorized wheelchair.
‘Oh. I’m sorry I didn’t see you at this end of the table,’ Bhaskar apologized. ‘Thought it was someone else. Good morning.’
People began streaming in behind Bhaskar, and within a minute, everyone, including Richie, had come in. They all looked a little more relaxed today than they had been at dinner the previous night. They seemed to be coming to terms with the new reality, and perhaps with the shadow of suspicion hanging over them. Conversation was more natural than the previous night’s, and there was a sprinkling of laughter as well.
Athreya ate quickly as he kept an eye on the progress of the others. He had to make his move when everyone was at the table and, hopefully, concentrating on their breakfast. He didn’t want someone like Richie, who ate quickly and didn’t have the courtesy to wait for others to finish before leaving the room.
When most people were a little more than halfway through breakfast, he adjusted his position slightly so he could see all the faces around the table.
‘I have a piece of news,’ he said casually as he picked up his cup of coffee, as if to sip it. ‘Fresh evidence has come in.’
As the sparse conversation around the table paused, he went on.
‘Phillip did not die at 2;30 a.m. as we first supposed,’ he said in a clear, loud voice. ‘He was killed at 12:45 a.m.’ He chose to declare a specific time instead of the usual time window for a reason. By conveying certainty and precision, the assertion he was making would have a deeper impact on those listening. As soon as he said it, he began sweeping his eyes over the faces around the table rapidly. As he had hoped, the reactions were varied. Some eyes snapped to him, while some others completely avoided him.
Dora dropped her spoon, which clattered to the floor. For a fleeting moment, Athreya saw dismay shrivel her face before she dived after her spoon in an effort to hide her consternation. It was obvious that she was avoiding Athreya’s eyes.
Beside her, Michelle choked on her water and burst into a fit of coughing. Even the flush the coughing had brought to her face failed to cover the gathering pallor. Her lips were already trembling violently when she let go of her glass and buried her mouth in her napkin. All the while, she had kept her gaze away from Athreya’s.
Next to her, Richie had frozen. He had been reaching for the butter dish when Athreya had dropped his bombshell. His startled eyes, now suddenly looking haunted, and remained riveted to the table. His extended arm, instead of reaching for the butter, snapped back as if it had touched fire.
Beside him was Abbas, calm and collected as ever. He betrayed nothing. Except for a momentary halting of his knife, which was cutting his omelette when Athreya spoke, he betrayed no outward sign of having received major news.
Farther up the table, and closest to Bhaskar at the other end, Varadan slowly placed his knife and fork on his plate and picked up his napkin. He dabbed his lips carefully as his glazed eyes remained fixed on the table before him. It was apparent that his lawyer brain was recalibrating events in light of the fresh evidence.
What was common between all the five people on Athreya’s right was that they were avoiding looking at him.
But it not so
