Murder at Crescent Point (3 page)

Dear Jyoti,

You will probably not believe the contents of this letter. But every word of it is true. Fifteen years back on 25 December, a woman was admitted for delivery in the Missionary Hospital in Somabad. Unfortunately, the woman gave birth to a stillborn baby. The doctors told her husband that there were some complications and she would never be able to give birth again. Her husband was a rich man and did not want to break her heart. On the same night another woman was admitted to that hospital for delivery. That woman gave birth to a healthy baby girl. With the connivance of the doctors, the man bribed the husband of this woman and exchanged his stillborn child with the healthy baby. The second woman was told that she had given birth to a dead baby. The condition laid to her husband was that the couple should leave the town and settle elsewhere.

Several years later, the husband of the second woman was afflicted with a deadly disease. He was bedridden for a long time. A year ago, at his death bed he confessed his guilt to his wife and told her about the child he had given away. The woman was devastated. All her life she had been mourning the loss of her baby while her child was actually somewhere hail and hearty with other people.

Her husband didn’t know the name and address of the person who had adopted her baby. The monetary transactions had taken place through an intermediary who had refused to disclose his whereabouts.

After the death of her husband, the woman left her hometown in search of her baby. There was very little to go by, as she only knew the name of the town and the name of the hospital. She went to the hospital. The doctors and staff had changed. A kind-hearted matron was moved by her story and unearthed the old hospital records. On 25 December of that year only two deliveries had been registered. A woman had given birth to a healthy baby girl and her own name was against an entry, ‘Gave birth to a stillborn baby girl’.

She went to the address of the other woman as registered in the hospital. But in place of a house there was a commercial centre, which belonged to someone else. After searching for one whole year the woman ultimately got hold of the information which she was desperately seeking.

It will shock you but the truth is that you are not the daughter of Mrs and Mr Anurag Taneja, but the daughter of that unfortunate woman, whose child was snatched away from her on that cold winter night fifteen years ago. Yes, Jyoti, I am your real mother.

Having traced so far, I cannot control my heart now. I am burning with desire to set my eyes on you, to hold you in my arms, to kiss you, love you and talk to you about all those things which I had suppressed within me during these agonising years.

Three days from today will be 25 December, your birthday. I cannot come to your hostel. I shall be very happy if you can come to Crescent Point on the afternoon of the 25th. I know that it will be very hard for me to wait for these three days but I wish to see you on the same day I gave birth to you. Having waited for so long perhaps these three days will also pass.

I hope you will not disappoint your unfortunate mother. Asha Sayal

The letter was dated 22 December.

Tears streamed from Nikki’s eyes. Now everything started falling in place. Jyoti could not have gone out of the hostel without permission so she had taken the lead in arranging a picnic in the valley on the fateful day. She had wanted to go to Crescent Point alone. She had concealed that fact from her and quietly packed her kit in the backpack.
But how could a mother kill her own daughter? The mother who had taken all the pain in the world to trace her…no! That can’t be. Something is seriously wrong somewhere,
thought Nikki.

She once again looked at the envelope. There was no stamp or address. It had apparently been hand delivered. She got up and went down to the hostel gate and showed the envelope to the watchman. He confirmed that three days ago a lady had given it to him asking him to hand it over to Jyoti only and no one else.

‘What did this woman look like?’ asked Jyoti.

‘She was neither old nor young. She was wearing a white sari and came walking.’

The letter and now the corroboration by the watchman increased her curiosity. Nikki looked at her watch. It was eleven o’clock. She saw Ms Malati coming her way. The warden said, ‘Nikki, the girls are leaving for their winter break this noon. You were to spend the vacation at Jyoti’s place. Now with the changed situation what are your plans?’

With all the developments and shocks, the impending holidays had not even crossed Nikki’s mind. ‘Ma’am, I have not yet thought about it. Jyoti’s parents will be here in the evening. I will meet them and then decide.’

‘OK,’ said the warden and turned towards her office. Nikki asked, ‘Ma’am our picnic baskets and other things are lying in the valley. If you could ask Ramu Kaka to take me there I’ll get the stuff before the girls leave.’

Ms Malati agreed and sent Nikki on her way.

— CHAPTER THREE —

Another Shock

Nikki was soon in the van. Instead of going to the valley, she told Ramu Kaka to take her to Crescent Point. She climbed the hill and went to the confluence of the two rivers. Something was bothering her. Why had someone cut Jyoti’s hair? Was her hair removed for some tantric rites for making a magical potion? She knew that this belief was rampant among primitive tribes. Maybe a witch doctor killed her and removed the hair? She soon dismissed the idea. It seemed too improbable.

In her reverie, Nikki soon realised, she had moved further up the hill in the vicinity of a dense forest. Suddenly, she saw a white cloth fluttering behind a bush. She quickened her pace. What she saw completely shocked her. Sprawled behind the bush was the body of a woman in white sari! A corner of her sari was fluttering in the air which had attracted her attention. There was no one around. She went closer. She was appalled to see

that like Jyoti, the woman’s face also looked stunned. She was obviously dead.

Horrified, Nikki turned to leave when out of the corner of her eye she saw something lying close to the woman’s body—a small purse was lying near her open hand. Hesitantly she went near the body, picked up the purse with trembling hands and hid it inside her coat. Quickly, she ran back to the van.

On seeing her Ramu Kaka said, ‘Miss, what about the picnic baskets?’

‘I couldn’t find them there. Maybe someone took them.’

Nikki went to her room and closed the door. She took out the purse and turned it upside down on her bed. It contained some currency notes and change, a small handkerchief, a used bus ticket stub, and a photograph. She looked at the photograph. It was taken in a park. Three girls could be seen in the picture. One of them was Jyoti. The background of the picture was an open rain shelter in a park. Jyoti’s face had been circled. Nikki could not recognise any of the other girls in the photograph. But one thing was clear; the place where the photo had been taken was not in Sangalina Hills. Nikki looked at the used ticket stub. It read ‘Somabad to Sangalina Hills.’ So the woman had come from Somabad, Jyoti’s hometown!

She looked inside the purse. There was an inner pocket which had been secured by a zip. She opened the zip. A key tumbled out with a piece of paper. She unfolded the paper. It was a receipt from Hotel Evergreen in Somabad. The name written on the receipt was ‘Asha Sayal.’ Nikki was shocked beyond measure. ‘Oh my god!’ she muttered. ‘Jyoti’s mother!’

Nikki was boiling with rage. She started pacing the room restlessly. ‘Something has to be done,’ she was muttering to herself. ‘Jyoti’s killer must be punished.’ She took a momentous decision. She will do anything to find the killer of her best friend. She decided to go to Somabad immediately. The idea of informing Inspector Rajan about the letter and the contents of the purse came to her mind. But she quickly discarded it. Independent and courageous as she was, she thought she would let the police do their job their way—she would do hers her way, at least until she got some more information about the woman in Somabad.

That evening Ms Malati called Nikki to her room to meet Anurag and Sheila Taneja, Jyoti’s parents, who had just arrived. Nikki had met them every time they came to pick up Jyoti before the vacations or to drop her back at the hostel. Today, they both looked thoroughly shattered. Nikki hugged Mrs Taneja who started crying uncontrollably. Ms Malati tried to console them. When Mrs Taneja had calmed down, she asked, ‘Tell me what happened.’ Nikki told her about the sequence of events but refrained from mentioning the letter of the dead woman found in Jyoti’s backpack. She also omitted any reference to her second trip to Crescent Point. Mr Taneja asked, ‘Where have they kept Jyoti’s body?’

Nikki said quietly, ‘In the Hill View Hospital.’

‘Then let us go,’ Mr Taneja said grimly.

The warden informed the parents, ‘Inspector Rajan wants to meet you. I have already given him a ring.’

‘Who is Inspector Rajan?’ asked Mr Taneja.

‘He is the investigating officer for this case,’ replied the warden.

Mrs Taneja said, ‘He can meet us later. I want to see my girl first.’

The warden said, ‘I understand your feelings, Mrs Taneja. But it is just a matter of another five minutes.’

Inspector Rajan entered the room shortly thereafter. As he offered his condolences to the grieving parents, the room was engulfed in a painful silence. Inspector Rajan cleared his throat and said, ‘Another extraordinary thing has happened. This afternoon a dead body of a middle-aged woman was found at Crescent Point, the same site where your daughter was killed.’

Everyone gasped. ‘What has happened to Sangalina Hills!’ exclaimed Ms Malati.

Inspector Rajan said, ‘…The woman was also murdered at about the same time yesterday when Jyoti was killed. The surprising thing is that like the girl, the woman was also strangulated. It appears to be the doing of the same person who killed Jyoti.’

Everybody in the room was stunned to hear the news of the second killing. Nikki kept her eyes firmly on the ground. Mr Taneja asked, ‘Have you got any clue about the murderer?’

‘Not yet, but we are working on some leads.’

‘Inspector, can we go to the hospital now? I would like to see my daughter,’ said Mrs Taneja impatiently.

‘Yes, in fact, I came to take you to the hospital,’ said Inspector Rajan.

They all got up. Nikki asked the inspector, ‘Sir, may I come too?’

‘Yes, of course. Let us go.’

At the hospital, Dr Shetty took them to the morgue where the parents cried their eyes out, trying to accept the grim fact of their child’s death.

Inspector Rajan then instructed the doctor to show them the body of the woman which was discovered from the same spot.

They moved to the adjacent table and Dr Shetty uncovered the face of the woman. The inspector asked, ‘Do you know this woman?’

Before Mr Taneja could respond, his wife said, ‘No, we have never seen this woman before.’

The inspector turned to Mr Taneja and asked, ‘What about you, Sir? Have you seen this woman earlier?’

Mr Taneja replied, ‘No’. But his reply appeared circumspect to Nikki, who was watching him carefully. She saw his face being drained of all colour when he saw the woman’s face. There were, however, no expressions of either surprise or shock.

The inspector said, ‘Since the woman was not a local resident and the two murders took place at the same time and place I thought maybe the woman knew your daughter. That is why I asked. Someone must know her. Sorry for the trouble.’