Tarquin Hall - The Case of the Missing Servant

"He was caught trying to enter Mary's room at the hotel where Mr. Puri and Mary are staying," butted in Shekhawat, officiously. "I was going to take him down to the station for questioning. But given Mr. Puri's cooperation in the past few hours, I agreed to do as the detective asked and bring him here first."

"Those handcuffs aren't necessary," said Puri. "He's not going to abscond."

The police-wallah appraised the prisoner like a fisherman trying to decide whether or not to put his young catch back into the river.

"I suppose you're right," he said, although he didn't sound convinced. "But I'm only willing to play along a little longer, Mr. Puri. I want to know what's been going on here. If I don't get some answers soon, then we'll do things my way."

Shekhawat unlocked the cuffs and Ajay Kasliwal ushered the party down the corridor.

Entering the sitting room, they found Mrs. Kasliwal lying deeply sedated on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. Her doctor, a man in his fifties with salt-and-pepper hair, was sitting at her side monitoring her pulse. At the sight of them, he made an irritated gesture.

"What's this, Ajay-ji?" he hissed, standing up. "I said no visitors. She's not to be disturbed."

Walking around the couch, he addressed Puri and Shekhawat directly.

"You must leave immediately! She's extremely sick. Ajay-ji, I don't know who these gentlemen are…"

"I'm Inspector Rajendra Singh Shekhawat," said the inspector, flashing his badge. "And this is Vish Puri, a private detective. Who are you exactly?"

"I'm Dr. Chandran, Mrs. Kasliwal's personal physician," he answered haughtily.

"Dr. Sunil Chandran, is it?" asked Puri.

"Yes, that's right."

"I understand you are Madam Kasliwal's rakhi-brother. Is that so?"

"Yes, we grew up together. We're like brother and sister. Now, what's all this about?"

"There's been a murder and we're here to find out who did it," Shekhawat answered.

"Well, now's not the time. She's had a mental breakdown. I've seen it before. The stress causes a kind of brain fever. You'll have to come back another time."

"I'm afraid it won't wait," said Puri. "Why don't you pour yourself a drink, Doctor-sahib, and sit down? I'm glad to see you, actually. You've saved us time in coming here."

"But I'm finished here for the time being."

"You're finished , that is for sure, Doctor-ji," said Puri sternly. "Now sit down."

"I'll do nothing of the sort!" shouted the doctor. "Ajay-ji, I'm leaving. Take Savitri's temperature every hour and let me know of any change. You'll be able to reach me on my mobile."

Dr. Chandran gathered up his stethoscope and bag and made for the door. But he found his exit blocked by Shekhawat who had one hand on the revolver peeking out of his shoulder holster.

"Do as Mr. Puri says, Doctor-sahib," said the inspector, his muscular jaw rigid with determination.

Puri positioned himself by the fireplace. Bobby knelt next to his mother, a mixture of anger and anxiety clouding his young face. His father stood expectantly, looking at the detective for answers. The doctor was sitting involuntarily in one of the armchairs with his arms crossed in defiance. The inspector guarded the door.

"The case has been a complicated one and required all my skills as a detective, but fortunately I was up to the task," began Puri.

Shekhawat rolled his eyes and looked at his watch.

"Mr. Puri, please, I don't have all night," he interrupted impatiently. "Who killed Munnalal?"

The detective bristled at the younger man's impertinence. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was having people butt in while he was trying to conclude a case. This was his moment and he would not be rushed.

"During my many years of service and duty I have learned not to share information about ongoing cases with my clients," he went on. "Often it is important they remain in the dark. This gives the impression that I am sitting idle. In reality, nothing could be further from the truth. Vish Puri does not do meter down. Thus, on the very day Munnalal met his fate, I went to his residence."

Puri paused to clear his throat and then continued.

"An extremely unpleasant and most slippery fellow he was all round. There and then, I confronted him with certain evidence. Namely, I told him I knew it was he who carried Mary's body from her room and placed it in the back of Kasliwal-ji's Sumo on August twenty-first night."

"Mr. Puri, please," said Bobby, suddenly snapping out of his reverie. "What's this about Mary's body?"

"Allow me to explain. The maidservant Jaya saw Munnalal carrying Mary from her room to your father's vehicle and placing her inside. At the time, she assumed he had murdered her. Terrified, she told no one."

"But what happened to Mary?" asked Bobby.

"This same question I put to Munnalal. He did not deny taking her away. But he denied totally murdering the girl. He said she attempted suicide only. Afterward he drove her to the Sunrise Clinic."

At the mention of the clinic's name, Bobby and his father both turned and stared hard at Dr. Chandran. "That's your place, Doctor-sahib," said the elder Kasliwal.

"I'm well aware of that," replied the doctor. "But I don't remember any girl. Clearly, this Munnalal was lying. The detective himself called him a 'slippery fellow.'"

"Munnalal was a first-class Charlie, that is for sure," said Puri. "But for once, he was not lying. Your night security guard remembers Mary most clearly, Doctor-sahib. He says after her admittance, you returned to the clinic. Must have been around midnight. Thus it seems you cared for her yourself."

"I've no idea what you're talking about," said the doctor dismissively.

"Then why is it, the following night, you took Mary by taxi to the train station?" he said. "Knowing full well she was too weak to make the journey and might easily die along the way, you bought her a ticket on a local train to Ranchi. A coolie identified you at the scene."

By now Bobby was glaring at Dr. Chandran contemptuously. "Uncle is…is this true?" he asked him.

"Not one word of it, beta. Don't listen to him. He's trying to blacken the family name, divide and conquer like the British."

"He's doing nothing of the sort," snapped Kasliwal. "But what I don't understand is how a maidservant tried killing herself in my own home and I knew nothing about it?"

"Sir, you are never around. Your work keeps you at the office, and at night you are out a good deal. You're a very sociable individual, we can say. Running of the house, with servants and all, is Madam's responsibility. Thus the facts were kept secret from you.

"But to continue," added Puri, urgently, before anyone else could get a word in, "after dropping Mary at Sunrise Clinic, Munnalal returned here to Raj Kasliwal Bhavan. In the wee hours, Mary's blood was washed away and her possessions taken. The kitchen knife she used Munnalal threw over the back wall from where it was recovered and is now in my possession. Only things left behind were two wall posters and a few stones."

Puri modestly revealed his foresight in having Mary's stones analyzed and how they had led him to Jadugoda. But his client could not have been less interested.

"What about Munnalal? Why was he murdered?" Kasliwal asked.

"Just I was coming to that, sir. You see, he was an instrument only. Some other person did direction of his actions. When he found Mary bleeding to death in her room, he called that person to ask what to do. Thus he was ordered to rush the girl to the hospital. But along the way Munnalal got thinking. For him, Mary's suicide attempt was a golden egg. Such a man knows many secrets. He stores gossip for rainy days. Thus he understood why Mary tried the suicide and why it had to be hushed up. Next day, he demanded compensation to the tune of many lakhs."