The Trail to Spring

Chapter 25

I swung open the door as fast as I could.

Rakesh leapt to the switch board, switching on the lights within a fraction of a second and by the time I entered the room, the detective was busy tussling inside with a woman and I found a revolver lying in front of my legs. The woman herself was much taller than me, had long black hair that had come open now that she was embroiled in a struggle and her small eyes seemed to burn with an untamed rage and fury that was kind of intimidating. The detective was hardly managing to stop her.

"Pick up the revolver, Ms Ganguly!," he shouted as he tried to hold on to the woman's ankles and got a massive kick in his face in return.

I stared down my feet towards the revolver. It was greyish in colour and for a moment, I almost thought it was a toy, like the ones I had seen children burst during the Durga Pujas. I slowly stooped down and picked up the revolver with shaking hands. I tried to keep my index finger as far away from the trigger as possible. The woman was just about to pounce upon me when I held up the revolver to her face and she stopped dead a metre in front and finally held up her hands.

"Good job," the detective exclaimed, standing up and rubbing his chin.

The room was in a mess with clothes and books scattered all around. I noticed the badly torn The Last Mountain Standing lying face down in one corner.

Only after I had made certain for the tenth time that our intruder was carefully tied down with rope did I drop down on the bed beside Rakesh. The woman continuously kept muttering something in Nepali. Rakesh checked out the woman's revolver and then stood up and approached her.

"A Stechkin silent revolver," he said, holding the weapon in front of her eyes, "Used by the Russians and one that you certainly couldn't have bought yourself. Who have you been working for, Mrs. Ashima Pyne?"

She smirked at the detective.

"You are not so bad yourself, chor," she spat out, "You had almost gotten away by stealing my pen drive. I only got to know that it was you when I was looking out the window and noticed you staring at me through your damn sunglasses."

"It was quite easy," the detective replied in an offhanded manner, "Pops had given me all the info that I needed to know about you. Let's see then."

He took out his phone.

"Born in Darjeeling. Studied in a local school till tenth grade before getting married to a staff member of Star Haal, Kolkata. Husband helped her to get a job as a house maid in the same hotel," the detective read out, "Has an address in Darjeeling where she returns every winter to meet with her old mother and if I may add, hides after committing a murder. Am I right?"

Mrs. Pyne removed the hair from her face by a quick swish of her head and glared at the detective.

"I knew where you were staying. It was just a matter of finding where you kept your precious pen drive. And as luck would have it, the boy who you hired as a helping hand  in your place just so happened to be in a need of some cash which Pops duly helped me pay out."

"That bloody backstabber. To think that I felt sorry for him and took him in," Mrs. Pyne raged.

"No, don't blame him," the detective said, "He could have hardly guessed that his mistress was a murderer. Well anyway, as I was saying, that boy easily located the grey pen drive while cleaning the house as an excuse. After that, I waited for you to go to sleep after which I climbed in to your place through a window."

"My apartment was on the third floor!," Mrs. Pyne exclaimed.

"With a conveniently placed tree beside it."