“Oh yeah right. Yes, sure. I will do that and meet you in the guest room,” said Mr. Shekhawat taking the inspector’s leave.
As he entered Abhimanyu’s bedroom, he saw his son, completely distraught. His hair all shabby, and was murmuring a song, holding a glass of whiskey in his shaky hands.
“Abhimanyu, how was the party? Kisi cheez ki kami tho nahi padi na?” asked Mr.Shekhawat as he went to the table to pour himself some whiskey.
“Dad, there has been a murder in the house. And all you could ask me was about the party? What is wrong with you?” yelled Abhimanyu, on the brink of breaking down.
“I know my son. And I will figure out something and not let any of it get traced back to you. As if all of this never happened here,” comforted Mr.Shekhawat.
“But we did not do…
“I know, but the world is cruel out there, and my son, such a case is not good for business,” said Mr.Shekhawat as he finished his whiskey and left the room leaving behind a red-eyed Abhimanyu.
The father-son duo was never close. Mr. Shekhawat was a renowned advocate in the Bombay high court. So Abhimanyu never did receive the warmth of a father from Mr. Shekhawat. Even when Mrs. Shekhawat was alive, Abhimanyu did not get the love and attention from his mother too. He adored his mother, but she wasn’t happy with her marriage, and Abhimanyu had to bear the brunt of it. So here was Abhimanyu, a rich kid with a shattered family.
“Oh, Mr. Shekhawat, so you are back already. I thought you would be taking some more time with your son, but never mind, take a seat,” said inspector Imran comforting himself on the chair.
Mr. Shekhawat entered the room and sat on a chair and said, “Could we cut to the chase now.”
“Yes, sure. Why not. As you say,” said the inspector taking out a piece of paper from a file.
“So the preliminary reports reveal some exciting findings. Firstly, the female’s face was decimated to an extent where identifying the dead was not possible. All we know is her age, which might be roughly between 20-24. And secondly, we have found a few hair strands in the finger nails,” informed the inspector.
“Does this suggest a possibility of a tussle between the murderer and the deceased?” interrupted Mr. Shekhawat.
“Yes, that could be a possibility. But we will be sending the samples to the forensics for further confirmation” said the inspector. “We can expect the results by tomorrow,” he added.
“OH! So I guess you will need the DNA samples of everyone present last night, to compare with the DNA of the hair found in the finger nails. So I will just round everyone up, and then we could start with the procedure and get this over with as quickly as possible,” said Mr.Shekhawat, with a sense of urgency.
“Right, but we can do that. You don’t need to do it, sir,” said the puzzled inspector.
“And I will ensure that the DNA results are back, latest by tomorrow morning,’ said Mr. Shekhawat shaking the inspector’s hand.
Hence everyone who had attended that house party was rounded up within 2 hours, and then the forensics team took everybody’s oral swab samples. Everyone voluntarily gave their samples except Nishant, who started arguing with the person taking his sample. He questioned why this was necessary and wanted some sort of guarantee that his DNA would not be wrongly used. He was taken aside by inspector Imran, and when they came back, the inspector handed over the container to the forensics team containing Nishant’s swab sample.
A father-son relation is a very complex one. Mainly because the father is trying to secure the future of his son and the son is craving to better the present with his father. Hence, they both are trying to fix their relationship with their tools of expectations and hope. The father sees all the flaws that he once had and expects his son to get rid of them. On the other hand, the son hopes that his father accepts him with all his flaws and help him progress.
Had Mr. Shekhawat expected too much of his son or had Abhimanyu hoped more than he should have. Such thoughts were going on in Mr. Shekhawat’s mind in a loop, as he sat on his leather chair in his room, staring into infinity, sipping on his whiskey.
These thoughts were broken with a loud knock on the door.
“Yes, come in,” he said.
“Sir, the forensic reports have come in,” said inspector Imran, entering the room.
“Oh great! What time is it though?” asked Mr. Shekhawat, getting up from his chair.
“It’s 10am sir” replied the inspector. “It seems you still have that influence over the department sir” he added.
Nobody could sleep that night as even the single thought of what had happened the night before was enough to run chills down everyone’s spine. The hours passed slowly and steadily, and with every passing hour, the hysteria in the house had also started growing. The sun was up and gleaming from the sky now, as it was coming closer to mid-day. Everyone had begun to look at each other with suspicion. All of the six friends were sitting terrified in the hall, with tension leaking from everyone’s faces. No one had the energy to say even a word, as the anxiety in the air had not let anyone sleep.
“I need to get some coffee," said Vibha breaking the silence. "Anyone want some?”
“Yes, sure. I’ll join you,” said Ishaan getting up and finding his way through the crowd.
“Do you think they will find out about the things we are trying to keep safe?” asked Ishaan.
“Shhhh. Ishaan! What did we all decide? To forget about it right? You just can’t come up with such a question now,” whispered Vibha alarmingly.
“Okay, I won’t. I was just concerned about it. Hence I just couldn’t keep
