১২. the servant's wife

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Secrets are temporary.

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The men and the detective had assembled at the table for a hearty breakfast. The first question Maya asked was who cooked it. Kalikacharan Babu merrily answered it was Ram, and expressed his sadness that Khirodh wasn't the chef for today. Maya agreed that she was a rather good cook and must be a quick learner. That was all she could say. Ram served them the dishes and went to the market. The women of the family were absent from the scene.

Maya found Mrinjay to appear bitter. He had dark bags under his red-rimmed eyes and his hair was unkempt. He was not in a good mood. When the luchhi and white aloo curry came in, everyone ravished the dish, except Mrinjay, who reluctantly ate his food.

"Are you disturbed, for some reason?" Maya asked. Mrinjay shot her a bloodied glance. The veins on eyeballs were red as sindur. Maya shrugged. "Alright, you need not share. I just wanted to help. Because anyways, I am here to help."

Kalikacharan squinted his eyes at his eldest son. Mrinjay shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Deflating after a sigh, he said, "I want to find out who killed brother. It's eating my head."

"Must be a very powerful person, physically."

"That anyone can conclude, Maya. I need–"

"Not anyone, Mrinjay. I don't think any powerful human would be able to do this on their own. They need assistance."

"Where are you getting at?" Kalikacharan clutched his plate.

"That I am getting to know a lot of things, both pleasant and unpleasant. It will only be good if you keep transparency with me while communicating. Or else..."

"Or else?" the father and son asked in unison.

"It will be impossible. I can say I have got to know more through things other than a one-to-one conversation. Maybe that is what a detective should do." Maya scoffed. "Anyways, I think none of us want to be direct with words and appear rather cryptic."

Kalikacharan Babu pushed away his plate. His appetite had died. He adjusted his specs and glared at Maya. "So you know."

"I know many things, and I don't know even more."

"Do you know who we are?"

"The zamindars of Khatra."

Kalikacharan banged his fist on the table. "Don't play with us!"

"I am not. But you all kept things hidden from me. I had to only know it one day. And are you all stupid?" Kalikacharan Babu's eyes bulged out at her statment. Maya bit her lips. "Listen, it's not easy to kill someone of your race. One who did it has gathered great knowledge about you all."

"Then I think I already know who the killer is. You may leave Khatra. I will handle this on my own," Mrinjay said tartly.

"You don't," Kalikacharan said at the top of his voice. "You don't. I know life more than you. And we cannot just go and kill someone. What if the person whom we suspect is not guilty? We will then only let the killer laugh at our foolishness."

"By the way, who is it that you doubt?" Maya asked Mrinjay. The latter crossed his arms. "I am not saying the name since Baba believes they are innocent," he said. "I might very well be wrong–"

"But may also be right," Manihar said, speaking up for the first time. "I have my suspect list too."

"And are you willing to share?"

"The crow."

"What?" Kalikacharan scrunched his nose. "A crow?"

"Wait, wait." Mrinjay rose up from his chair. "Do you mean that red-eyed crow which often comes?"

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