Having studied the cabinets, he transferred his attention to the pillars. They were made of stainless steel, and were each about five inches thick. The bottom ends had been embedded into the stone floor and fastened with metal brackets. But the top ends had not.
Rather than being attached to the stone slab they supported, the top ends ran into slightly larger stainless-steel tubes that were about three inches long. The fit was perfect. The three-inch-long metal tubes, which were attached to the stone slab with brackets, were just large enough for the five pillars to fit snugly into them.
Athreya slowly stood up and looked around. He was alone in the chapel. Sebastian’s body lay where it had fallen, waiting for the police and the forensic team to arrive. Athreya went to the large cupboard at the end of the dais and turned off the switches. The lights over the aisle continued to glow as he made his way to the door.
There, he stood for a moment looking down at the still form of Sebastian. He slowly shook his head and walked out. He now knew the secret of the chapel. He knew what had brought Phillip and Sebastian’s murderer there.
What he needed was confirmation and corroborative evidence.
* * *
Back in his room, Athreya found that he had received a message. His contact in Delhi had obtained new information from Europe, and had sent it to Athreya in the wee hours of the night. There were seventeen articles related to significant happenings in the art world around Vienna in 1994 and 1995. Athreya read through them one by one, three pieces stood out:
MARCEL FESSLER KILLED
Marcel Fessler, a reclusive art collector aged 77, was accidentally killed when a burglar broke into his suburban home with the intent of stealing pieces of art from his collection. It is believed that the burglar was surprised by Mr. Fessler. When the burglar employed force in a bid to escape, Mr. Fessler fell and hit his head on the base of a marble statue and died. The burglar escaped without carrying out his intent to steal pieces of art. Having been seen by two witnesses while fleeing, the burglar was identified as one Jacob Lopez, and later apprehended. He was sentenced to twelve years’ imprisonment for manslaughter and attempted burglary.
Note: Jacob Lopez was released from prison in 2007.
KÜNZI BROTHERS KILLED IN CAR CRASH
The two Künzi Brothers, suspected to be dealers in stolen art, and possibly art thieves themselves, died in a car crash when the vehicle they were travelling in went off a mountainous road in the Danube valley, forty miles north-west of Vienna. The car is said to have fallen 300 feet into a ravine and exploded, charring its occupants. There were no eyewitnesses to the accident.
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. One 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 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
