Chapter 6
Using her blue scarf to cover her head and protect it from the mighty sun, Heera walked through the narrow packed streets of Kripa colony. The streets were crowded with several women standing, in a queue, in front of a small tap, to fill their colourful water pots. Their soaked blouses and the little drops of sweat dripping from their faces showed the toll the hot weather was taking on the women. Their tired body language proved they were waiting in the queue for at least 2 hours now. While few women had their little babies sitting on their hips, few others had their little kids clinging to their legs. The next league of children were running on the streets, shouting and enjoying; the hot weather had no say against the children's enthusiasm.
Kripa colony was a home for nearly 150 lower and lower-middle class families. The houses were small- a living room, kitchen and a bedroom, in a straight line- just enough for a small nuclear family. Devoid of comfort, the residents just about met their living. The houses were all crammed together-no compound walls or gates. They weren't painted and cracks and patches of dirt were written all over the murky outer walls. From the outside, the area was one awful looking dungeon with roads smeared with spit and other wastes. Leftover and decayed food was left in the open for stray dogs to eat and scatter all over the locality. This was where a portion of the population lived but lived in peace. People preferred sitting outside their houses and socialising with everyone instead of sitting inside their houses with their heads into the idiot box. There were the occasional middle of the road' quarrels but nothing permanent. Children ran into any house with no permission sought. Kripa colony edged Hanifad- an area occupied exclusively by Muslims. Muslims who couldn't get a house at Hanifad lodged in Kripa colony. One such family was Mohammad Rafi's.
After enquiring the address at two small shops, Heera made her way towards the house where Rafi lived. Within steps from the house, she knew she was at the right place. Men wearing taqiyahs- short, small caps, stood outside the house, talking amongst them silently. There were no women found outside. Another few steps closer, she could hear sounds of wailing from inside the house. Heera halted and reconsidered her plan. Was it right of her to intrude into a family's worst time? Was it fair on the family? Lost in thoughts, she didn't realise a man walking to her.
'Can I help you,' a young man in his 20s asked her politely.
Heera knew there would never be a right time for the questioning. It was important that she gathered as many details as possible to get closer to the killer. 'I am Heera Chathurvedi from Special Branch. I would like to meet Mr Mohammad Rafi's family.' It was evident that Rafi's death was already informed to them.
'I am Rafi's brother. My name is Imran,' introduced the man with a courteous smile. 'You can tell me anything you want.'
'Can we go inside?' asked Heera, eyeing the group of men who were looking at her curiously.
Imran led the way inside the house. 'Mind your head,' he warned Heera not to hit her head on the low door. At least 10 women sat on the floor in the small common room. Imran asked them to give some space for them to move in. The next room too saw an equal number of women, out of which two women sat on the bed. Clearly one of them was the wife of the deceased, as all eyes were on her.
'The police are here,' said Imran catching everyone's attention. The supporting women stood up immediately, gave a strange glance at Heera, and left the room murmuring. There were three women in the room including Heera.
'This is my brother's wife- Jamima, and our sister, Shefina. This is Heera Mam from the police.'
'I am investigating the death of your husband,' said Heera sitting down near Jamima.
Jamima was a fair, attractive woman with clear round face and beautiful brown eyes. The eyes currently hosted sadness and intense pain. The face was pale and she was still panting for breath after the continuous crying. Her eyes looked at a distance vacantly. Shefina stood behind Jamima with a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes were red and puffy as well.
Looking closely, Heera realised Jamima was pregnant. More sadness added to the unlimited awkwardness. She still hadn't mastered the act of talking with the family of the deceased with equal compassion and focus on her work.
'I am really sorry for your loss, Jamima,' said Heera. The next moment, the woman began crying again, falls of water streaming down her eyes. Shefina hugged Jamima consoling her, weeping herself. Heera looked helplessly at Imran. She found the same helplessness in him as well. She continued.
'I know this must be very difficult for you, but it is my duty to talk with you and know more about your husband.'
'So it is true? My brother was murdered?' asked Imran with surprise.
'I know you would want to know all the details. But for now, all I can say is someone shot your brother in his room. The shooter is also dead. We are trying to find out who is behind all this,' said Heera without giving any names. 'Imran, do you stay with your brother?'
'Yes Mam. We are 5 brothers and 1 sister. 2 brothers live in Dubai. The rest of us stay in this house.'
'Oh!' said Heera, shock inevitable. She couldn't ascertain how so many people could stay in the same house- in this tiny little house.
'Rafi bhaiya is always on tour. Our youngest brother is in college, staying in hostel. He visits frequently,' informed Imran as if reading Heera's mind.
'Yes yes,' said Heera pulling herself. 'Uhmm...What kind of a person was Mr Rafi?'
'The best,' said Shefina with pride. 'He was the best in everything. He was loving and caring, very soft spoken. Always took care for our needs. Never said No' to us. Never raised his voice.'
'Our parents died when we were very young,' continued Imran. 'Rafi bhaiya was the eldest and he literally ran our family. He left his education and began working so that he could earn and run our family. He educated us as much as he could. He gave us as much comfort as he could afford. But on top of everything, he showered us with unconditional love. He taught us good values. He believed in hard work and honesty. He never resolved to wrong means to get something even though he had the opportunities. He used to say- Wrong means is the perfect shortcut to lose one's peace of mind.'
'He didn't marry for a long time. He thought if he has his own family, he might neglect his siblings. We had to force him to get married,' said Shefina.
'Even after his marriage, he made sure we all stayed together. We were...are still one family. Rafi bhaiya was more than a brother. He was like a father to us. He was...'
Imran who was in complete control of his emotions till then, broke down. Heera wanted to run away from the place, to leave the family alone in their moment of distress. She couldn't bear to see the pain the loss of a single soul had caused on the family. Memories of her own loss were dreading to dissolve her in deep misery.
'I am sorry,' said Imran wiping away the tears and clearing his throat.
'Did Rafi have any animosity against anyone? Arguments? Fights? Any problems at work?' asked Heera, continuing her unfair job, barricading her emotions.
'He didn't have any enemies, Mam,' said Shefina. 'Arguments are common but nothing so serious to harm someone.'
'So he did have arguments with someone recently?' asked Heera jumping on the first ray of light on her questioning.
'Yes,' said Shefina with a sad nod. 'With me.'
'You?'
'Yes. I wanted to work and earn, to add some more income to the family but bhaiya was against it. He denied it directly. We had a fierce argument on this matter.'
'Oh!' replied Heera disappointed that the first ray of light had diminished in the same speed. Family arguments were common and such arguments couldn't be considered as motive for murder.
'He wasn't himself in the last few weeks,' talked Jamima for the first time. Her voice was as beautiful as her appearance.'He tried to act as if everything was normal but I could see that something was troubling him. His eyes always gave him up. I even asked him if anything was wrong, but he didn't tell anything. I assumed something was wrong at work, so I didn't question him further. He sometimes got upset when he couldn't meet the family's needs. I thought it must be something like that.'
'Imran? You noticed anything?' asked Heera.
'Not really. Bhaiya came home 2 weeks ago after his 2 month schedule. I work in a cruise. Just before he returned, I had gone on my trip. I just came back 3 days ago. So I didn't really get to meet him.'
'Any close friends? Colleagues?'
'Not to my knowledge. He didn't believe in being close to anyone apart from his family. He had a good equation with his boss- Leo Max. Leo used to help him with cash in case of any emergency,' said Jamima.
'To say it clearly, Mam, there is no one who would want to harm Bhaiya. He was loved by everyone,' said Shefina.
'When did you last see him?'
'The morning of the accident. Around 11 am. He went outside for some work,' replied Jamima. 'He was very quiet that day.'
'Did he say where he was going?'
'No.'
'Were there any financial troubles in recent times?'
'No. With Imran working, we were stable.'
'Our youngest brother, Shahid- he wanted to join a course but we didn't have the money for it. That's when I offered to work,' explained Shefina.
'But Rafi denied the idea. Was he able to manage the funds then?' asked Heera.
'No,' replied Imran. 'He made Shahid understand that it wasn't in the family to afford for such an expensive course and he understood. He has taken up a 6 month internship now. He said, with the stipend he would be able to pay the course fees.'
'Where is Shahid now?'
'He has gone to get some food for everyone,' said Imran.
'Did Mr Rafi mention anyone called Jana Yadav?' asked Heera.
'No,' said Jamima after giving it a thought. Shefina and Imran shook their head too.
Heera looked around. In normal conditions, she would have requested the family to let her see the deceased's room or table, to go through the things to find something useful for the investigation. But considering the small space, she doubted if Rafi had any specific place to store his things.
'Did Rafi have any diary or file or something like that which he maintained? His office file? Any papers?' asked Heera desperately.
'We keep all our important documents and valuables in a bank locker,' said Jamima. 'Office papers- he never brought it home.'
'When can we have our brother back?' asked Imran.
'I'll let you know soon,' said Heera. She observed two little kids of age 5 running to their mother. A boy and a girl- twins. Heera smiled at them. She thought about their future- a life without a father, a life knowing their father was murdered in cold blood. She looked at Jamima and empathised with her. She had a difficult life ahead- being a single mother. She had tough questions to answer her kids. People would pour in to show their pity but not a single soul to give her the strength and the willpower to move on.
'I would like someone to come and identify the b...your brother,' said Heera, clearly avoiding the word body'.
'I'll come,' said Imran immediately.
'This is my card. The address of the building is there. You can call me in this number in case any of you remember anything. Once again, I am very sorry for your loss.'
*****
'What are you doing here?' shouted Heera. She saw a familiar man strolling ahead of her.
Max Logistics was a transport company. Numerous lorries and trucks lined up on either side of the muddy pathway, with no load. The area was deserted except for the searing sun monitoring from the top. At the end of the long pathway stood a small office.
After the interview with Rafi's family, Heera decided to talk to Rafi's boss.
'Stop!' Heera warned.
The man turned and grinned, and waited for Heera to reach him.
'What are you doing here, Sagar?' repeated Heera, slightly panting.
'Looking for a job!' said Sagar caustically. 'I am bored of police work.'
Heera rolled her eyes. Sagar and his sarcasm.
With no support from Heera to continue his witty remarks, Sagar said, 'Rajeev's death is definitely a murder, I think. Like 90% murder. ACAU have confirmed it as well.'
'Remaining 10% is what? Natural causes?' asked Heera returning the sarcasm.
Sagar contained his smile. He loved irritating Heera. 'Could be? May be Rajeev got a heart attack? Or maybe the killer is SLEEP? Rafi slept off and hit Rajeev from behind. We need to arrest Sleep. It's definitely a suspect. Or perhaps- the killer is SNEEZE! Rafi sneezed...'
'Shut up!' said Heera, disrespect intended. She walked ahead to the office leaving Sagar behind. She knew he was her senior but she couldn't bear the nonsense he spoke. She knew he did it deliberately- the clown act to irritate it. Sometimes, it was hard to say who was senior and who was junior.
A bulky strong man sat in the room, with his head down on the table. The table was strewn with registers, bills, seals and seal pads. A voracious echoing snore filled the room.
'Excuse me,' called Heera knocking the door and subsequently banging the door.
The man raised his head slowly; eyes still closed, hands stretched widely and a loud enormous yawn waking the world.
'Sleepy the giant,' commented Sagar.
'What?' asked Heera not understanding the context.
'Never mind,' replied Sagar at her ignorance. 'Wake up! Wake up! We are the police.'
The word 'police' never failed to garner the required reaction. The yawn vanished, hands returned to its position and eyes opened and widened; the man quickly got up from his seat to welcome his visitors.
'Sorry. Please...please come in. What is it about? Rafi I guess, right?' The man had a very clear and gentle voice, nothing like his appearance.
'Yes,' said Sagar before Heera could take charge. He gave Heera a "I am the senior look" and proceeded. 'You are?'
'Leo Max,' said the big man.
'I assume Max logistics is yours?' asked Sagar.
'Very clever,' thought Heera.
'Yes Sir. Max logistics is mine. Rafi worked as a driver here,' replied the man. 'The police had already been here and questioned me a few days ago. Is there any more questions? I will be more than glad to help.'
'That was a different team, Max,' said Heera. 'We are from Special Branch and we are investigating Rafi's murder!'
'Murder???!! Rafi is dead???!!!' exclaimed the man shocked. Clearly he hadn't read the newspaper.
'Yes. He was murdered yesterday night,' informed Sagar.
'This is so wrong. I mean- Rafi is...was such a good man,' said Max sadly. He sat down on his chair digesting the loss. Heera and Sagar took the chairs opposite Max on the other side of the table.
'We just have a few questions to ask you Max, to know Rafi better. When did you last see him?' Sagar began the questioning.
'The day before his accident,' said Max.
'Not on the day of the accident?'
'No.'
'What did you talk about?'
'He wanted some financial assistance and wanted to know if I could help him. I asked him what the need was for, but he didn't answer that clearly. He said he was in quick need of cash for some problem at home.'
'And you helped him?'
'I asked him to come a few days later. I was leaving for Delhi that evening and hence my mind was occupied with that.'
'If he had come few days later, would you have helped him?'
'Most definitely. I liked Rafi a lot. He was a very hard working and sincere man. I have helped him in the past as well. It was always a loan which he repaid as soon as he could.'
'Did you know Rafi had taken a truck out of the depot without any consent?'
'No. I didn't. I don't know why either. I was surprised when I got to know that the truck involved in the accident was mine. I had given Rafi few days paid leave to recuperate his 2 months continuous work. You have to understand, a driver's job isn't easy. They drive continuously for hours together, in all the weather conditions and most importantly- all alone. They eat nonsense food outside, sleep and rest in the truck itself. The heavy load of the truck makes it difficult to drive, to control the steering. It needs a lot of strength- physical and mental. I make sure that after a difficult journey, my drivers get a good break to energize themselves and spend quality time with their family before their next trip.'
'How did he get the keys to the truck?' asked Heera.
'All the keys hang on that board,' Max pointed at a lengthy board from which hung several keys. 'The drivers should return the keys at the end of the day before they leave work.'
'Who manages this work? Like is there anyone who checks if all the keys are returned? Who keeps track of all the trucks?' asked Sagar.
'Me, Me and Me,' replied Max. 'Apart from the drivers and the cleaners, I don't have anyone else working for me.'
'Don't you assign a cleaner to every driver?'
'Not every driver. It becomes very difficult to get good cleaners who know how to maintain the trucks and lorries. This isn't a high paying job and hence men go for other works which offers them more money.'
'Has Rafi done this before? I mean- taken anything without your knowledge?' asked Heera.
'No,' replied Max confidently. 'If he needed anything, he always told me.'
'Do you know Rafi's friends or anyone he talked to? Apart from you and the family?'
Max shook his head. 'No. I don't know anyone like that. Though...he wasn't his usual self after his 2 months trip. Normally, he used to tell stories about what all interesting things happened during the journey, any problems he faced, people he met- but this time he was really quiet. Kind of disturbed.'
'Did he tell you the reason why he was disturbed?' asked Heera.
Max remained silent. He said remorsefully, 'I didn't ask. I knew something was wrong, yet I didn't ask him. I should have asked him but I still didn't.'
A small silence prevailed.
'I assume you have a file on Rafi? We will need that,' said Sagar.
'Will get you a copy right away,' said Max going to the next room.
'What do you think?' asked Sagar in a hushed voice. Was he hiding something?'
'I don't think so. Whatever he said matched with the description the family gave about Rafi. I don't think we can get anything useful out of him,' replied Heera clearly.
'I thought the same too. Very good,' appreciated Sagar unnecessarily.
Max handed over a fat file. His personal files, bills, account statements- all the papers are in here.'
Sagar said the usual goodbye line, 'Call us if you remember anything.'
******
A crisp knock and the door opened. Agastya said in his bored voice, 'Sir! Forensics on line 2.'
Vedant removed his spectacles and placed it over the file he was reading. Shlok's doctor had asked him to visit Shlok in the evening. With no other lead to follow outside, Vedant returned to office to finish off some paper work. He picked up the phone, 'Vedant here.'
A minute of silence prevailed as Vedant heard intently at the details informed from the other side. Agastya looked closely at Vedant's face to catch some emotion.
'Ok. Thanks. Email me the detailed report as soon as possible.'
'Good news?' asked Agastya.
Vedant said impassively, 'That was Ballistics. The gun used to kill Rafi? It's registered to Shlok Karmarkar.'
******
Edited by Shwets1502 - 9 years ago
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