Let's End Your FEAR

Chapter 13

Chief Anant was one of those tall, well-built India with thick black hair, lake-ice eyes that made him look mean, and a hangdog face that made him look mournful. Sort of like a homicidal basset hound. He was wearing pinstripes this morning - for him, a daring foray into edgy fashion.

"I like the suit, Yadav pronounced, flopping into a chair next to Shetty.

Shetty shot him a warning look, but Yadav was oblivious. It's real zippy. Kind of a mob look.

Anant froze in the middle of taking off his suit jacket and closed his eyes. Not exactly the kind of image I was hoping to project, Nakuul.'

'I meant it in a good way." That's the frightening part.' Anant settled behind his desk and tapped one manicured finger on a stack of two bright red file folders. He always kept his copies of open homicides in red folders, probably because this ultra-conservative man found the color almost as offensive as the crime.

Shetty hadn't seen one on his boss's desk in over four months.

' The media would like to know why our senior citizens are being tortured and murdered.'

'Someone actually said that? 'An intern from Channel Ten. Anant waved a pink phone message slip.

Shetty' brows shot up.

Viraj snorted. 'That is such bullshit. This happens when you do your job and you don't have a homicide for a while. The minute two guys get offed in one night some idiot in the media tries to scare the hell out of the city by talking spree, or serial killer, or some Hollywood crap. Besides, only one of them was tortured, and it wasn't ours. Vivaan Singh was dead before he hit the ground, and he didn't have a mark on him except for that one missing head.

'What? So there's no reason at all to suspect a connection between the two murders."

Nakuul shrugged.

'If there is one, we haven't seen it yet. They were both old, they lived in the same neighborhood. They were tied, That's about it. Their murder patterns are different. Ashish Puri's name didn't ring any bells with the Singh family or employees; neither did his description, and I'm guessing they'd remember a heavy man.'

'Good. We can quash the serial rumor, then. We're going to get enough pressure on the Singh murder the way it is. The desk logged over three hundred calls last night and this morning.'

Shetty raised his brows. The number was unreal. Twenty calls on a case were enough to make the brass nervous; three hundred could break careers.

On Vivaan, or the train track guy?'

The "train track guy" has a name, Anant admonished him. 'Ashish Puri. Most of the calls on that case were from the media, and the stack is pretty slim compared to Vivaan's, which is amazing when you consider the horrendous nature of Puri's murder too. So what I'd like to know, gentlemen, is who on carth was this man?'

Yadav shook his finger at the ceiling.

'That's exactly what I asked when I saw all those people outside the hotel yesterday. Of course, I said it a little more colorfully.'

'I'm sure. I saw a flash of that crowd on the news last night. Just a flash - there didn't seem to be a lot of media interest, until they did a little research on the man. Now Channel Three is putting together a documentary, and you know what they're going to call it? Saint Singh of Mumbai City.

Viraj chuckled. 'Oh, that's rich. Sameer told us Vivaan Singh was putting the screws to D'Souza once about why Jews couldn't be saints, and now here we go; they finally slap the label on the very Sikh asking the question, and he's not around to enjoy it.'

I'm quite certain the designation is secular, absolutely not Catholic, but real or imagined, the Police Department should not allow saints to be murdered. That was the gist of most of the calls. Frankly, I found it a little embarrassing that I knew nothing about a man who had done so much for others. Also when Imran is my good friend.'

Viraj slid down in his chair and laced his hands across his stomach. Yeah, well, Imran was never much of a talker. Kept his family life close to the vest. But from what we've heard so far, Vivaan Singh was a one-man charity. Helped more people than you can shake a stick at, and if that's not saint like, I don't know what is. Trouble is, that doesn't make him a real likely candidate for murder.'

Anant turned his eyes on Viraj. 'I read Rai's Q & A with Imran. How was he?" 

'He looked like hell, if that's what you mean. Rai didn't put it in the report, but he pretty much messed up to being on a toot since the day he walked out of his career last year. Couldn't even remember where he was the night Vivaan was killed. Said he woke up on the kitchen floor holding an empty bottle, and that's all he knows.'

'You didn't seriously suspect him.' Imran?

'Jeez, no. But I had to ask. We gotta look at the family, and he knows that. Funny thing is Karan Singh? First off, he hasn't been on speaking terms with his folks for who knows how long-seems he married a Christian instead of a nice Sikh girl, which I'm guessing didn't go over too well - so that's interesting. And the night his dad bought it he was running the same deal as Imran, only in a better part of town. Got himself looped up at the Club, woke up in his drive way next morning, and the people at the club say it's almost an every-night thing. It's like that whole damn family fell to pieces when Alisha got killed.

Chief Anant looked down at him hands and said nothing.