Let's End Your FEAR

Chapter 14

Even after a year, the mention of Alisha Syed's murder still had the power to stop any conversation in the building. Random violence was not unknown in Mumbai, particularly in those few neighborhoods where gangs clung to a tenuous foothold and innocent bystanders were occasionally caught in the crossfire - but it was a rare thing, and always set the city on its ear. But the murder of a journalist's spouse had multipled the shock value a thousandfold, and everyone on the force had been deeply affected considering they were close to Imran

Sometimes cops and media were killed; that went with the job; but that risk was absolutely not supposed to extend to their families. The murder of Imran Syed's wife had been a gut-wrenching wake-up call for every one of them, because Imran had been carrying, standing right next to Alisha when her throat had been cut, and still, he hadn't been able to protect her. It made them all think of their families as a little more vulnerable, made them all feel a little more helpless, and the sad truth was, a lot of them resented Imran for that.

Why didn't he kill the bastard when he had the chance?

Shetty had heard that question around Hall a hundred times in the months afterwards, and it always made him feel bad, especially when Viraj said it.

Did either of you know Alisha? Chief Anant was asking. Nakuul shook his head.

"Just to say "hi" to in the hall. She used to come here sometimes. I can't stop thinking about Mrs Singh. Her Sister in law, and then her husband, both murdered within the space of a year. I don't know how you survive something like that.'

Well, don't get all touchy-feely about the old lady just yet, Viraj said. "She didn't have an alibi either.

Viraj didn't care much for Mrs Singh, Nakuul explained.

'What I didn't care was that she trashed a crime scene, she didn't seem all that broken up that her husband was dead, and she's got this attitude.

Anant frowned at him. "What kind of an attitude?"

"Pretty hostile, if you ask me. We're just doing our job, trying to find out who killed her husband, so I ask her a couple of questions and she's all over me.' Anant slid a weary gaze over to Nakuul for a translation.

'Viraj asked if Mr Singh had had any "unusual dealings," and she took offense.

'Oh.'

'She actually snapped at him.'

'Ah.' Anant looked back at Viraj, and for one fearful moment, Nakuul was afraid the chief might actually smile. In summary, then, you questioned her late husband's integrity, and her response was less gracious than you thought you deserved.

Viraj started to blush, and his head seemed to be sinking into his neck.

You kind of had to be there,' I'm very sorry she hurt your feelings, Inspector Yadav.

Nakuul wiped his hand across a smile, and Viraj saw it.

"Aw, come on, Nakuul, it was a whole lot more than that and you know it. There's something going on with that old lady. Forget that she didn't shed a tear and she's got a mouth like a whip. Did she fall to pieces when she found her husband's dead? No. She gets him into a wheelbarrow- a wheelbarrow, for God's sake - pushes him around with workers help flops him on a table, then washes him  and dresses him up for company. This is not your average grieving widow, and if we get caught up in that scenario, we close our eyes to the possibility that she might also be a killer who did her damnedest to destroy evidence."

Anant leaned back in his chair and sighed. You interviewed her, Detective Shetty, and you listed her as a non suspect in your report.

"I'll stand by that, at least for now,' he said, but he was frowning, thinking about Viraj's image of events. Anushka Singh dragging her husband around like a sack of grain - and his own picture of a distraught, elderly woman struggling to get her husband out of the stairs, to make him 'presentable.