A Glint Of Murder

           


The driver stopped the auto in front of the college gate with a tremendous splash, and being the only passenger, I took my time bringing the cash out.

“How much?” I asked, definite that he would ask more than the normal fare.

“Ten rupees.” The driver demanded callously, thus proving me correct.

“But the usual fare is only five!”

“This ain’t a usual day miss!”

Sourly and bitter-faced, I handed the money to the man and got out. The auto left, sending a current of muddy water towards me. As I was wearing three-quarters, I did not bother to turn them up. Cautiously, so that I did not step into any potholes, I crossed a little whirlpool at a drain and got through the gates. 

The rain that had started to drip in the early morning was now beating down steadily, and the Calcutta streets were already showing the signs of turning into waterways which could give the Venetian ones quiet a run for their money. Shielding my head with a notebook, I ran through the almost empty grounds. The place was bare, sparing a few people walking around under umbrellas. I ran up the steps to the main building and got into the corridor. A few students, in pairs (you get it, right? “PAIRS!”) were chattering away their hearts’ contents to each other. Leaving the romancers to their devices, I headed straight for class. 

I had got really wet, as even in the auto the wind had been blowing squirts of rain at me; so I wanted to get under a fan and dry myself a bit. With this in my mind I went straight to class, only to find it almost empty. Well almost, as one of my batch-mates, Upen Sen, was reclining in a languid sort of way on one of the benches.

Upen Sen was strange; that word best described the guy. Not in appearance, that was okay; Upen Sen was a first class example of eccentricity. He could laugh and talk and start a conversation with anyone, but still he did not do so with everyone. Most of the students of our college thought him a bit shabby and boring. And a greater part of the boys felt him to be a dork as he had never shown any interest in any kind of sport (and for boys, that seems to be the most important criteria for judging a person).  

Neither was he a regular in college fests and functions and other extra curricular activities; and even if he did come, he would not participate in anything but would only skulk around the food table. 

But that does not mean he was a devoted student, an ardent peruser of all books scholastic. Upen Sen was quiet a mystery to the teacher’s too, for he never ever showed any sign of understanding what was being taught during the lessons. He did not try to answer questions, and even if he did he mostly got them wrong. But in the exams he would be sure to be near the top of the rank list, if not at the top. Most of the times in class, he would sit at one of the back benches, and do who knows what. So that was him, Upen the ‘Dork’.

Anyway, I paid scant attention to him, and unclipping my hair I sat below the fan to dry it. But after some time I began to get bored. Where were the rest of the students in my class? I looked around the room searchingly (and foolishly) and found only the lazy looking Upen Sen staring out at the rain through a window. He didn't seem to have noticed that I had entered the room, but I knew that even if he had noticed he would show no sign of it.

Still, I thought I would ask him where the rest of the group was.

“Excuse me,” I ventured. But Upen still continued to look plain blankly out of the window at the wetness there. So I decided to be more precise.
“Hey Upen!”

This time he turned and looked at me with his dullish, spectacled eyes.

“Yup?” He asked. 

“Where’ve the others gone? Or has no one else come yet?”

“Oh no,” Upen sat up straight and continued. “They have all come. They’re in the class at the end of the second corridor. Somebody said that someone has brought a PSP and so most of them went to try it out, and the rest just went just like that.”

“Thanks.” I said, and taking my bag I got up. At least there were others whom I could talk with other than Upen. I was about to step out when something cropped up in my head.

"And why didn't you go with them?" I turned and asked.

“I like my games best on the computer screen.” And with that he swung his gaze outside.

I didn’t know what interest he had there. Leaving him to his staring, I went to the classroom at the end of the second corridor and found most of my batch circled around the PSP. I too sneaked a peak of it. Trendy, but too expensive, if you ask me.


The rain died out after about an hour or so, and soon the teachers started trickling in. One of them came and ushered our lot to class. We settled down at our seats, and the talking continued. I noticed that Upen was not there in his place, but he silently sidled in later. 

Time went on, but still there were no signs of the professors, which was well and good really. But it was not really normal, for the professors are almost never late in coming to teach. A few of us wondered why they were not coming now when even the rain had stopped. Still we were not much bothered, because who wants to study? But there were some studying idiots in our class (I believe they are in every batch of students), studiously noble and almost itching to study. A few of these types went to find out why the teachers were not coming.

Soon one of them came back running, and between gasps managed to declare:

“Murder!” 

“What?” All of us shouted in unanimity.

“Someone’s been killed...at th...back garden.”

 Without further delay all of us filed out and ran to the back garden where we found a thick knot of students and college staff. They were circled around a clump of bushes by the college wall, and excited voices were all over the place. 


Here I would like to say a bit about the back garden. This was a place where most of the students used to spend their spare time in college. Everyone liked to spend their free periods here instead of inside; and being quiet close to the canteen, it was and ideal spot for sneaking a few periods off. The place was, in fact, a lawn of dried greenish grass, spotted with a few flowering plants and bushes. And it was around one such bush that all the people were clustered right now. The crowd was very thick, and at first we could barely get through to see what the matter really was, for no one seemed to be quiet sure of what had truly happened. A lot of questionings and answerings were taking place.

“Is it true?”

“Sure is. Someone’s been snuffed off!”

“I heard that it was something to do with a burglar...”

“Who would have thought! And this in a college!”

   “Who on earth was it?”

“The killer?”

“You mean the burglar...”

“What burglar? I’m telling you it’s a murder.”

“Well who the hell was it?”

“Does it look like I know the murderer?"

“Dammit, I’m asking about the dead one.”

“They say it’s Anisha, Anisha Arora.”

Hearing this I pushed through the crowd and got in view of the body, and recoiled in dreadfulness. I felt nauseous, may be as I knew Anisha, if not that well in person, but by sight. She was two years above me, and was a popular student. But I just could not think what could have brought her such a horrible end.

Anisha lay beside the bushes, and she was certainly dead. Her yellow top and the grass around her were spattered with her blood, which was still spewing from an appalling wound in her stomach. She lay partly in a muddy puddle so that her entire body was plastered in the muck. And together with the blood it somehow made the sight even more disturbing. 

Our principal had arrived by this time and was trying to scatter the gathering, but did not have any effect on the crowd which was growing by the moment. Some students who felt sick were already leaving with green and grim faces. After some time the police came and forced those that were still loitering about the place of the murder indoors. After they had done their routine investigation and asked a few customary questions the police left.

Back in the classrooms the students were all in different moods. Those in Anisha’s batch were the most subdued group of all. Most of them were silently crying, and some had even fainted at the sight of the dead girl. 

The rest of the college was swarming with millions of questions.

 Students sat in groups and tried to discuss who could have done the deed. After all a murder at a college campus is sure to come as a great shock to the students. So everyone, in their own way, was trying to think about who could have murdered Anisha.   

The soggy-bread like day had ended in a gruesome happening, and everyone felt nervous. The dreary sky above and the cold, wet wind seemed to be synonymous with the grim incident that had taken place. Soon college was declared officially over, though not a single class had been held that day. Slowly the pupil filed out, and as they did they all threw a furtive glance towards the back garden. As I approached the gates with my friends we all noticed a peculiar thing.

Upen Sen was standing at a corner of the main gate. This was the first time I had seen him since we had rushed out to the back garden. Upen was standing with rapt attention, observing a group of students from Anisha’s year. They were a hushed and subdued group. They spoke only in whispers and were still rubbing tears from their reddened eyes.

But Upen stood like a guard at the gate, scanning them from head to toe as if he were searching for something in them. Why was he doing this? It looked like he was searching for someone in that group. And when they had left Upen began to scan the others with that same inquisitiveness in his eyes. Many stared back at him, some even called him names, but he did not stop what he was doing. We passed under his gaze and left for that day.


The next day, attendance was scant. Anisha Arora’s murder had been in the papers that morning; and as a result very few of the students had turned up. Perhaps their parents had told them not to come to college, I guessed. 

A few journalists were still lurking in a thieving manner outside the college gates, trying to catch some student unawares and get a word out of them. As I was getting in, I saw a few of them rushing towards me, but the security guards (earlier there used to be two, after yesterday now there were many) shoved them away. 

Inside, the grounds were totally empty; there was not a single soul loitering on the lawns. Usually on any day you could find small groups sitting on the grass chatting away about nothing in particular, or perhaps smirking at and discussing about the two lovebirds sitting at a separated distance. But now no was there, and the place looked like an empty desert; the few policemen standing around stood out like sore looking cactuses.

As attendance was almost next to nil, no classes were being held, and the atmosphere was still tense. A certain feeling of anxiety, a fear of something more happening hung in the air. 

“No one else is coming, eh!” I said to Suman.

“I don’t exactly know, but I think Arindam will come. He told me yesterday that he has some work to do at the lab.” 

We sat for sometime in silence, looking away from each other; though we both knew that we were thinking about what had happened yesterday. We both wanted to talk about it, but for some reason could not find a way to start. Then at last Suman broke the ice.

“So, did you read the papers today?”

“Yeah I did. They wrote all about it.” I said.

“Do the police suspect anyone? I didn’t read the whole article.”

“Not yet, but the police are, as usual, putting it down to some kind of love affair related matter. They think that one of her rejected exes killed her.”

Suman shook her head in disappointment, and said:

“Really, the police don’t even take the trouble to investigate deeper into the matter. What is her family saying?”

“You know how these papers write, ‘the mother and father are stunned at the tragic and sudden death of their child’ etc. etc. etc. But that’s just for drawing readers. Her family is completely mum on the matter. The reporters are not being allowed to enter their house, and none of her relatives have a clue as to who could have had  animosity towards her, that they would go to such great lengths as murdering her.” 

Suman remained quiet for some time. She seemed to be thinking pretty deeply about something. Then she suddenly said:

“This isn’t a good thing, Priya. What I mean is that when someone dies, it automatically sends a sense of fear to all around; and a murder is even more menacing, as it’s not natural. Do you see that attendance is so less today? Everyone is afraid, or mostly their parents are, I should think, of sending them to college.”

“Hah! That’s foolish! Just because one girl was murdered…”

“Doesn’t really mean that another girl, or guy, won’t be murdered.” She said forebodingly.

“Why do you say that?” I said, a bit worried.

“Well, it’s like this,” Suman explained, “we don’t know who killed Anisha. Most probably the murderer is someone from inside our college, maybe even a student. Also it’s most likely that Anisha was killed due to some personal matter of hers. But it isn’t necessary that it should be that way. What if the murderer had some other reason for killing Anisha? What guarantee is there that no one else will be killed? We don’t know anything about this man, Priya! He may be a maniac bent on killing girls; he may be something else…”

“You are reading too many detective stories, Suman.” I said. 

“Tcha! Well maybe I am wrong about the maniac part. But there is no certainty that we are all safe.”

Even though I said nothing, but she had a point there. We had no reason to believe that no one else would be murdered. And also the thought that there was someone within this campus who had killed a fellow student was really sickening. Trying to shift track, I looked at my watch and wondered aloud why Arindam wasn’t coming still. Suman said that perhaps he had already gone to the lab, and so we too decided that it would be better to go and look for Arindam near the lab building. At this moment Rohit, another of our friends, came in and together we went to look for Arindam. 

“Do you think anyone will be there?” Suman asked a bit reluctantly. 

“Where?” I asked.

“You know, where, well... where they found her?” she said with hesitation evident in her voice. Suman was a timid kind of a person, and I guessed that she did not really want to go by the place where Anisha had been killed.

“Well there might be some teachers. Or maybe the police have come again.” I said.

“Let’s just go and see. We might be able to find some clues.” Rohit said, and both Suman and I screwed up our eyes and looked at Rohit disapprovingly. Ever since the murder he had been trying to think up of different solutions to the murder, and disturbing us all with his wild (and utterly imbecilic) detecting. 

“So that’s why you want to go to the back garden,” I said as we stepped onto the field and made our way to the rear of the college building. “You want to look for clues.”      

“What else? In every thriller movie the killer always leaves a clue or...”

“In case you have forgotten, dear wormhead, this isn’t a movie!” I said sarcastically. But Rohit did not seem to have taken my point, for he continued with great eagerness.

“And I might be able to find out the killer! You two can be my assistants. I’m sure the killer must have left something. Or you know what, he might even come back. In the movies the killer always returns to the scene of the crime to wipe out clues!!”

I felt Suman give a little groan beside me. Reassuring her that the killer would not come back, I told Rohit to shut his mouth. The grounds were absolutely empty except for a few gardeners and other non teaching staff.

The labs were located in a separate building at the rear of the main college building, and to reach it you had to pass through the back garden.  The place bore a look of loneliness now that the policemen had left, and the police-lines around the murder spot had been removed. But still no one was there, perhaps for the very reason which Suman had suggested. Anyway, we crossed the field and reached the labs, only to find that all the rooms were locked and no one was there except Mr. Garai, a chemistry professor. Since Arindam had not yet come, we retraced our steps to the back garden, and found a weird sight there.

Upen was kneeling by the puddle in which Anisha had been found and he was stirring the muddy water in it with a spoon. He was doing this very thoroughly, moving the water and mud aside slowly, scooping up spoonfuls of the muck and bringing it close to his eyes, then again pouring it back. We walked up to him.

“What’re you doing?” Rohit asked Upen. Getting no answer Rohit asked a bit hotly:
“Are you nuts?”

“Are you an idiot or just plain blind?” came the return from Upen.

“Why you son of a-”

Then suddenly Upen looked at Rohit with his eyes over his glasses, and Rohit stopped in mid sentence. I saw now that a strange look had come into Upen’s face, a look which I had never seen before. His eyes, which were usually dull and lackluster, were now sharp and cold; his face had changed from its expressionless appearance to one on which anger was etched very clearly. But this lasted for only a moment after which Upen Sen was back to his old self. He smiled carelessly at Rohit.

“So, which of the two are you, eh?” He said, and again started to sift the muddy water.

“What’re you trying to do, fish for tadpoles?” Rohit retorted with acid in his voice. Upen chuckled and said:
“Nasty idea; and I don’t think you can really fish for tadpoles. But no, I’m not trying to catch tadpoles.”

 “But what are you doing Upen?” I put the question to him for the third time. Upen did not answer for some time and continued to do what he was doing. 

“You’re mad Upen Sen!” Suman said.

Upen smiled a bit, and for a second a gleam of something came into his eyes, then vanished again.“

Nothing.” He answered shortly.

“This is not ‘nothing’ you know,” I said. “A girl was murdered here only yesterday. I don’t think you should be here.”

“Then neither should you three.”

“You don’t need to tell us what to do you... you odd.” Rohit started very hotly. “We came here for clu...”

All of a sudden Rohit’s eyes went blank and he just stood there stupefied for a few moments. And then he started jumping and shouting excitedly.

“He’s trying to wipe out clues!! He’s looking for clues; I told you there’d be clues!!! Dammit if only we had come a bit earlier. Show us what you’ve got.” Rohit demanded of Upen. In answer Upen held out his empty, muddy hands to us. He looked at the three of us for some moments, and then, quiet unexpectedly, he started to laugh. And laughing madly he went away.

                                                                       

That evening our group met at a café near Golpark. Between ourselves, Suman, Rohit and I told the others what we had seen that day. While we were recounting Upen’s strange behavior, I remembered that on the day of the murder, when Upen was standing by the gate eyeing everyone, I had noticed that his trousers and boots were smudged with mud. I told this to the others.

“So you are saying that his boots were muddy.” Richa asked me.

“HAH! That explains everything. He is the murderer.” Rohit declared decisively.

“Well, not exactly. It was raining the entire day, and so anybody’s shoes could have been muddy.” I countered him.

“Priya is right. This is a serious matter, and we just can’t go and accuse someone offhand like that.” Richa sided with me.

“That’s right,” I said. “And besides, Upen doesn’t look like the sort who can kill.”

 But this time, Richa disagreed with me.

“You really can’t judge anybody by their faces, you know. Who knows?  I personally don’t think that Upen guy to be normal. I’ve seen him looking at many in a peculiar sort of way at times, as if he was sizing them up for something.”

“Yes yes I’ve seen that too…” 

“But still Rohit, I don’t think…”

“Oh come on. Stop defending that dork. I have always thought that guy to be a bit… well, screwed in the head. And now you are saying that he had muddy shoes. Even if that doesn’t prove anything, tell me this: when we got to class that day after the raining stopped, Upen wasn’t there. He came in sometime later. Where was he? Priya, didn’t you see Upen earlier that day, staring out of the window?”

“Yeah I did. It was he who told me where you people were.’ I said.

“Did he seem a bit distracted?” 

I thought about how I had to call him twice before he answered me.

“Yeah.”

“That’s it,” Rohit banged his fist on the table. “ Upen was waiting for Anisha, and when he saw her coming, he went out, did her in, then came back and sat down in class as if nothing had happened. That is it!” he repeated.

“Nice surmise, but we really can’t prove it.” Suman said.

“What if we do?” Richa said.

All of us looked at her, and she continued:

“Look, I’m not saying it is Upen Sen. But someone did murder Anisha Arora. So why don’t we try to gather facts and prove who it is? After all, who ever did this can be a threat to us as well. Who knows who this killer will target next? It could be any of us. So won’t it be better if we try to nab this killer before he does any more damage?”

“I don’t think...” Suman began, but Rohit cut her off.

“But you don’t understand! If we can nab him, then we’ll be heroes.” Rohit said excitedly. Suman didn’t reply and looked outside once more.  

But Anuj spoke up.

“Listen, all of you. I really don’t understand why we are discussing this. A girl has been killed, O.K. But where the hell do we come into this? We’re not detectives or…or the police or something. So why are we bothering about whoever killed the girl?” 

“Anuj! How can you be so mean –minded? It’s a human that was killed, not some thing or insect! And even though I also think that we should not bother about something that’s not our business…”

But Richa was cut off in mid-sentence by Rohit.

“Who says it isn’t our business! A student of our college was murdered on the campus; there’s no surety that the killer will stop at just one murder. What if he’s a homicidal maniac? What if the killer strikes at another of us? What if one of us,” he said darkly, “is next in line? So it becomes our duty to capture the killer.”

“Nice speech, but as I was saying,” Richa continued after a cold stare at Rohit.  “Even though it is not our business, still what Rohit said just now cannot be entirely ignored. The killer, whoever he is, can strike again. So even if we do not exactly investigate, I think it would be better if all of us remained a bit alert, and kept our heads open to anything suspicious.”

“I think that’s right.” said Suman.

“Yep, better anyhow,” replied Rohit, whose face still showed that he was reluctant to give up his idea of investigating.

“Well, if you all say that…” Anuj trailed of apathetically.

“What say, Priya?” Suman asked me.

“I think Richa’s right, we should keep our eyes and ears open.” I said.

We lingered on a bit after that, sipping some coffee. Rohit was still putting forward entirely impractical ideas about the killer, and the rest were arguing with him.  But I was thinking another thing. Something had just come up in my head. It was about the day of the murder. There was something that I had noticed that day, something I had then thought weird. But I could not remember it now. No matter how much I tried to visualize the day, I kept missing that particular thing. 

After sometime we all left the café, and agreeing to meet at the college the next day, left each other. Even as I returned home I once more tried to think out what I had seen, but to no success.

I suddenly woke up at 2 a.m. that night. I had had a dream. I saw that I was walking about in a park; around me there was a lot of smoky fog, and I could not see very clearly. And then suddenly, out of the fog, a hand with a dagger came down at me…

And then I woke up, sweating. I felt very restless, and I guess that the fear of getting murdered had got into me too. Anisha’s sudden murder had spread this phobia of death in all the students of our college. A stuffy and churning-in-the-stomach sort of feeling forced me to get out of bed and go stand in the balcony.

A parchment –yellow moon stared down at me from the somewhat brownish sky. A few gray, thin clouds were floating around the moon, making it look oddly mysterious. A wet wind was blowing through the entire neighborhood, and everything was uncannily quiet. A few dogs were wandering around, letting out an occasional howl. I drew in a deep breath and felt a bit fresher. Then I turned the last two day’s happenings over in my mind.

Who could have killed Anisha? As a matter of fact it could have been anyone. If the murderer was a student of our college, then he would have had no problem in taking Anisha to the back garden and killing her. And the police would have a real tough job then, for how could anyone find out which of the many (I don’t know the exact number) students of our college had killed her? Also there was the fact it might not have been any of the students at all. It might have been one of the college staff. A shiver ran down my spine as I imagined one of the teachers as the culprit. 

On the other hand the killer might have come from outside. The boundary walls of our college are not very high, they can be scaled quit easily; and there was this huge crack in the rear portion of the boundary wall near the labs which was used by many students as an escape route for bunking classes. The killer might have come that way too. But the real question which troubled me was this: why was Anisha killed? She was just another student like any of us. What had happened in her life that someone felt it necessary to end it for good? Had she got into some rotten company? Or was it some other thing about which I had no idea? But the more I thought about the affair, the more one thing became clearer: Anisha must have known the killer, and she had gone to meet the person at the back garden. Otherwise she had no reason to go and stand there in the rain, when everyone else was indoors. But then...

There were just too many questions. Then what Rohit had said about Upen being the murderer came back to my head, and I simply could not picture Upen doing something like murder. I knew he was slightly eccentric, but from his behavior and overall appearance I considered him to be rather a nice fellow, although screwed in the head. And he was quiet a brainy student too. Also he was in our year and hardly knew Anisha more than we did. He never even talked to girls if he could manage it. So why would he go and kill her? I could find absolutely no motive for him to do so; unless he was, as Rohit had suggested, a homicidal maniac. But Rohit, well let’s just say that Rohit was as dumb as Upen was bright.

 But then what was he doing at the murder sight? His behavior that day had really been fishy. Still...still there were way too many questions longing for answers, and my tired brain had none to offer. I looked up at the night that hung over the world: that pale moon was now completely hidden by the furry clouds, leaving only a ghostly, yellowish pallor around the place. I felt sleepy once more, and went back to my room and lay down. Within moments I was asleep.

A few days later, the principal addressed the college students at the assembly hall about Anisha’s murder. He said that the police had handed over Anisha’s body to her family after the autopsy, and the preliminary investigations, along with her autopsy report, suggested that she had been stabbed with a blunt knife. But the papers had written all about it that morning, so this was not news to anyone. 

The principal told us not to be scared of anything and assured us that the security at the college would be made more secure. No use, I thought. For if someone wants to kill another person, that killer will most certainly do it. I mean, you would have to be a brain reader to stop a murder from happening. 

Anyway, after this, college was declared over for the day and most of the students in Anisha’s year went to her house to pay their last respects. I found that none of my friends had come that day. I roamed about for some time within the campus; then I went to the canteen where I spend some time with a mutton chop, listening to the cook complain about how utensils were disappearing from the kitchen. After finishing my chop I was about to leave when I spotted Upen standing by the college wall with his hands on his hips and attention fixed at the top of the wall. I don’t know exactly why, but I went up to Upen.

“Hi.” I said to him. But he did not reply and started to walk along the wall instead. I followed him.

“Nice day, don’t you think?”

“Hmmm...” he returned, poking a brick in the wall with a pen. I felt annoyed; why was he ignoring me? 

“I think I’m talking to you.” I declared with some ire.

“And I think I am listening.” He said at last, turning to face me.

“You’re not giving a very good impression of it.” I replied hotly. “And what are you doing here?” I added.

“Don’t you think that question is getting a bit overused? I mean, you asked me almost the same thing that day by the puddle.”

“Yeah, and I want that answered too.” I said with some importance. In return Upen looked at me as a grown up looks when a child has asked for something very costly. 

A curl appeared on his lips, and he once more began to examine the wall. I felt irritation building up in me. Here I was trying to get something out of this bloke, and he wasn’t even trying to answer me! 

My head got muddled in indignation, and I don’t know why, but I blurted out:
“Everyone thinks you did it.”

“Did what?” Upen inquired in his usual careless voice.

“That you killed Anisha?” I said, and even as I said this I felt foolish. And at the same time somewhere inside me a doubt, a tinge of fear arose. If Upen really was the murderer (which I did not believe), then I had just done a very dim-witted deed. I looked up at him. A frown had appeared on his face, and he looked puzzled. But then the cloud on his face cleared, and instead that faint curl reappeared on his lips.

“Who thinks I killed Anisha?” he asked most politely.

“Well... most of the students...” I tried to make up something, but found it very hard to do. So I just told him the truth.

“Rohit thinks you’re the killer.”

A great burst of laughter later, Upen, with amusement thick in his tone, said:
“Really, I didn’t even know that Rohit could think. Well it’s nice to know that he has at least some stuff in his upper chamber.”

“So did you really do it or not?” I said stupidly as I could find nothing else to say.

“You really are acting idiotically, aren’t you Priya?” Upen said to me. “What makes you think I killed Anisha? You saw me that day and I’m sure that I did not look as if I was about to go and kill a girl.”
“Well Rohit and the others...” I began, but Upen cut my words short.

“Tcha! You know very well that you don’t believe that dung brained git. He wouldn’t know a murderer if he looked at him doing the crime!”

Well, at least Upen was right on this point. Rohit was a real fool and we all knew it. But he was my friend and I felt it my duty to protest against Upen’s insults.

“You have no right to insult him. He’s way better than you, you with your slouching and snooping around mudholes and all. And,” something had just come to me. “You are also a thief. I heard the cook at the canteen complain about spoons and stuff disappearing from there.  And I bet you stole that spoon you were shifting the muck with from there. And on the day of the murder, you weren’t there when we returned to class. Where did you go? I’d like to know that.” I finished hotly. 

Strangely, Upen suddenly became very still and murmured something that sounded like: “So that explains it.” 

 “Explains what eh?” 

“ Nothing. And I didn’t steal that spoon. I had brought it from home for my lunch that day. If you don’t believe me I can take you to my house and you can talk with my mother. And I guess I had gone to the bathroom when you people returned.” He said humorously. 

“And why were you fishing in the puddle that day? Tell me that.” I demanded firmly. Upen let out a sound of impatience.

“Look, this argument is getting nowhere. I am telling you I did not kill Anisha. In fact I am trying to find out who did kill her and-”

A tremendous bang caused Upen to stop in mid sentence. The sound seemed to have come from the back portion of the college, near the labs. Without further ado Upen started to run towards the direction from where the sound had come, and after hesitating for a second, I followed.

The teachers had heard the explosion too, and I found them hurrying towards the labs. Once we had got there we saw that thick, putrid smoke was gushing from the window of the chemistry lab. Upen, I and some of the teachers went in to find out what the matter was.

Test tube and beakers crunched under our shoes as we entered the lab. The thick, acidic stench in the room made me feel lightheaded, and I was about trip on a piece of broken apparatus when Upen caught me by the wrist and steadied me. The black smoke that we had seen from outside was still thick inside the room, and this made seeing anything very hard. Ahead of me I could see the principal and two others trying to get through the burnt racks and instruments that had fallen on a heap on the floor. Upen was walking together with me, and I could feel from his tight grip on my hand that he was very tense and alert.

Then principal sir stopped, and I heard him groan:
“Oh no!  Professor Garai!” The rest of the people (a few more students had got there by this time) slowly went forward and saw what had caused principal sir to cry out.

Professor Garai was lying on the floor, covered in the broken and charred remains of the lab instruments. His face was black with soot, and his burnt hand lay on the upturned chair from which he had probably fallen. Principal sir went forwards and bent over the professor. 

“He’s breathing! Mr. Dutta, please call an ambulance.”

Mr. Dutta, the accountant, ran out to carry out the principal’s instructions. Between them the rest of the teachers lifted Mr. Garai from the wreckage. I noticed that a pen fell from his limp hand while he was being carried out. 

“Students, please I think it would be better if you left this place.” the principal said in a dark voice, and we were happy to oblige. As it is, I was getting choked in that smoky air. Before coming out Upen suddenly stumbled and went down on his knees but was soon up again. 

We students came out of the labs and all at once I felt a lot fresher, and at the same time disturbed. The others who were with me seemed disturbed too, and from what I could hear of their conversations I surmised that they were of the opinion that someone was trying to give our college a bad reputation. 

Everyone was talking very excitedly, except me and of course, Upen. But while I was keeping quiet and to myself (I still felt a bit woozy), Upen constantly kept muttering to himself and looking around searchingly. 

After some time an ambulance came and Mr. Garai was taken to the hospital. Students were asked to leave the college premises, and so I found myself on the streets with Upen Sen, still gloomily thinking about my side. The other students went their separate ways, jabbering among themselves. Then suddenly Upen said to me:

“This place is giving me a headache. I think a little fresh air would do us both some good. Let’s go to Children’s Park.” And without giving me a chance to say anything, he started to walk towards the park. Having nothing better to do, I went with him too. 

The day was a clear and bright one, and so there were quite a few people in the park. Upen and I found a suitable bench (suitable in the sense that it did not have any bird droppings) and settled on it.

“So what do you think?”

“About what?” I asked him in return.

“About what happened just now.” 

“I just don’t know what to think. What’s happening at our college? First Anisha is found dead and within a few days Mr. Garai meets with an accident in the lab. I think the others are right, someone is trying to give the place a bad name.” I said.

“Could be,” Upen said thoughtfully. “but I think it’s a different matter altogether. And that blast in the laboratory was no accident either.”

“What’s makes you say that?” I asked sharply. But Upen skirted my question and said:
“I’ll explain later. But first let me clarify what I was trying to: I did not kill Anisha, and you know it. I can tell Priya, you didn’t believe for one moment that I could have killed her.”

“How do you know this?” I asked him; I felt surprised at his having said just what was on my mind. For I was certain that this absent minded boy could not kill anyone, which must require a certain amount of careful plotting. 

Upen looked satisfactorily at me, and that ephemeral smile appeared on his face again.

“The same way I know that the blast was an attempt to kill Garai. Yes it was,” Upen added seeing the look of astonishment on my face. “and the person who killed Anisha tried to kill Garai too.”

“I don’t think there’s any connection between the two you know.” I said to him, skeptically. “I don’t know why Anisha was killed, but really, can you spot any link between her murder and this accident? Even if for argument's sake we do accept for a moment that the two incidents were caused by the same man, still one fact blares out against the assumption.”

“And what is that?” Upen said in a tone that suggested he knew what I was about to say. But still I said it.

“Don’t you see? The line of attack was completely different! Anisha was killed with a knife and Mr. Garai’s case involves a lab accident. If the same person had tried to kill him, then the killer would have used a knife too!”

“That’s no logical reason you know. Just because the killer used a knife to kill Anisha does not essentially mean that the person would use the same way to kill another. In fact, if you ask me, I would say that it would be extremely foolish to keep the modus operandi unchanged. If I were the killer I would change methods by the murder.”

“Still I think that you’re being too...” I struggled to find a better word, then settled with saying, “...far fetched.”

“Well,” Upen said slowly as though he was considering my words. “I may be wrong, but still...it’s just too much of a coincidence!” he said exasperatedly. “You said it yourself a moment ago: one day we find a girl murdered and within a few days a teacher is almost killed. I think the two are related in some way. I can’t see it yet, but I will. I want to find the end of this tangled rope of a matter, and I also want you to help me.” he finished with a certain amount of determination in his tone. 

Help him? Help him do what, try and crack this mystery? Now this was getting seriously insane. Did Upen think that we could catch a murderer? I told him this, and also let him know that he was going barmy.  

“I have been ‘barmy’ for rather a long time, and it’s not that bad actually. But about the other parts, yes, we can solve this mystery. I’ve got a few clues and...”

“You know, you’re talking exactly like Rohit. That day when we found you doing ‘nothing’ as you call it (Upen chuckled at this point, but I let it pass), Rohit was jabbering about solving mysteries and finding clues. And now you’re saying about the same thing. I think you boys should stop reading detective books. And why do you want me to help you anyway? I’m sure you can find loads of better people than me.”

I said a bit hotly. I guess I was just feeling irritated at the way he was completely ignoring me and trying to pile his decisions on me. I looked at him and saw that he was smiling knowingly, and this annoyed me more.

“And what is that smile all about?” I said testily.

“So you don’t want to help me? Don’t you want to know who killed Anisha?”

“I do, but...but that doesn’t mean we should go about playing detectives! This isn’t a game Upen.”

“Why Priya, this is a game! A game where we are required to find things out and reach the right conclusion! This is not anything different from, say, answering a few questions rightly and asking some appropriate ones. We have to do just that.” 

He said all this as if he was explaining something reasonable to a rather unreasonable kid, and it made me all the more angry.

“And why do you want me to help you in this madness anyway?” I narrowed my eyes and asked him seriously. “I’m sure you can find some better person to help you in this.”

“Well maybe I can, but I think you are the best person to help me.”

“And why, can I ask?”
“I dunno,” he said moodily, rocking back and forth. “But I think...”

“Alright alright I’ll help, I’ll help.” I agreed, just to make him stop his continuous ‘thinking’. He seemed very happy and at once thanked me. 

We sat in silence for sometime, during which I amused myself by seeing the antics of two toddlers who were constantly trying to eat the grass, and were being stopped each time by the visibly concerned parents. I looked up at the clear, pristine blue sky. It was a very fine day, with a gentle wind blowing and the sun’s shining just right; in short it was completely different from that wet and stormy day on which Anisha was killed. If the stormy weather that day had been a portent that something bad was going to happen, today there was no such reason to think of such a thing happening.

Yet still another person had very nearly escaped death at our college, though(I thought with a shudder) Professor Garai may not survive it. Those burns were really terrible, and it would be a real miracle if he did survive them. And as I thought these things I somehow began to get what Upen was saying: two deadly events at the same place within a few days? Could it be just a happenstance that these two incidents took place at the same place? Or was someone planning these things, as Upen was saying...

I don’t know for how long I was lost in thought when a tap on my shoulder brought me back.

“Here,” Upen said, giving putting a small something on my palm. “Tell me what you think of this.”  

It was a small glittery stone, shaped to look like a diamond. Of course it was not the real thing, just an imitation. 

“I think this is part of some imitation jewelry. A ring...or an earring, maybe.” I told him.

“Hmm... and these things can fall off from their settings, right?” Upen asked.

“Yeah, sure. These aren’t that expensive you know, mostly stuck with low cost glue. I lost the stones of both my earrings while trying to get off a crowded bus once. I never noticed it at the time, and when I came home I saw that only the metal clips were hanging in my ears!”

Upen thought for some time (he thinks way too much, I thought) and then said:
“So these stones can fall of during any kind of scuffle, right?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much probable. Where’d you get this, anyway?”

“To use Rohit’s word, I fished it out of the mud that day.”

“So that’s what you were doing that day!” I said, astonished. “Rohit was right then, you were looking for clues.”

“I was but,” Upen chuckled. “but for reasons different from what Rohit had suggested.”

“So you think that this belongs to Anisha.” I said.

“Not quiet, because Anisha was not wearing any sort of jewelry that day. I noticed it when the police were...well you know taking pictures of the place. So either this piece of fake diamond...”
“Has nothing to do with the case.” I cut in.

“...or has everything to do with the murder. I have reason to believe that this stone belongs to the murderer.”

“But that is impossible unless... unless what you’re suggesting is that the killer is a girl! And that is highly doubtful.”
“And why is that?” Upen said with a bit of mockery in his tone.

“Well because...” I tried to build up my argument. “...because women don’t use knives and such weapons.”

“Says who? I can tell you of instances where... but let’s leave that. And I am not at all saying that the killer is a girl. Nowadays even blokes are wearing earrings and stuff like that. So this might belong to a boy too. What we have to find out is who could have killed Anisha.”

“I don’t see any way of doing that. Unless of course we go about asking stuff like ‘please, did you kill Anisha?’”

I thought Upen would take the hint, but apparently he did not. Instead he once more smiled his peculiar smile and said:
“There’s a much easier way that that. And that’s where you come in.”  

I noticed a certain sinister tone in his voice, and at once I knew that he would suggest something very out of the ordinary. But he proved me quiet wrong.

“Priya, the only way we are going to get some useful information is...well...you know how girls always gossip about things...”

“Hey, that’s not true, we don’t always. And even boys talk about...”

“Okay! Okay! Not always. But gossiping is the only way we are going to get some information.” He said.

“I still don’t see how.” And I was not lying.

“Listen to the plan: we don’t know anything about Anisha Arora except that she was a third year student of chemistry honors, right? We don’t know what kind of a person she was, what friends she had or how many enemies she had made. And if we are to crack this case then we must have a clear idea of who could have done her in. So what I want you to do is this: take a few of your friends along, and try to engage a few students of Anisha’s batch. Girls preferably, as they are most likely to know about another girl. Try to get them talking and gather as much as you can about Anisha’s past.”

“All very nice. But why don’t you do it?”

“That would be swell, wouldn’t it? Mine asking around about a girl everyone thinks I killed. And I’m sure that Rohit will have surely spread the word that I am the murderer by now, so who’d trust me? It’s better if you did it. You don’t have to go alone, take...what’s her name...ah yes, Suman along. She might even help you a bit. But that’s the only way.”

I did not like the idea really, but I had promised to help him and so I decided to do so. I asked him what I should enquire about.

“That’s a good point. No use engaging in useless conversation. Hmmm...” Upen stroked his stubble for some time and then said:

“Ask them if she had ever had any altercation with any other girl in class. If there was anything about her which the others didn’t like or thought...suspicious. Also ask which of them did not go to her house today. I think that would give us sufficient matter to work with.”

“And you think that we can solve this case just by asking around?” I asked incredulously.    

“Of course not! There’s got to be some great action in the end. But for now we have to do what we can. Goodbye for now.”

And the next moment he had taken the stone from me and disappeared.

Over the next few days I saw very little of Upen Sen, and whenever I did see him he made it a point to avoid me. I did not know why he was doing this, but he was. Only the other day I saw him at the canteen talking to the cook. But the moment he saw me coming he beat it like...well I can not find a well enough simile. Then one day I got a call from him: extremely precise, he was.

“Meet me at the canteen tomorrow.” And with that he had hung up. I had half a mind not to go, but then I too wanted to see what this game would lead to, and also there was the fact that by this time I had collected the information we needed. So I went to the canteen during a free period the next day, and sat at an unoccupied table. 

Most of the tables were full. I spotted no one of my class, which was a relief. I did not want to be spotted with Upen Sen. I mean, you know how rumor flies and all. I looked around to make sure that no one I knew was there. Three boys were sitting at a table near the entrance, talking and laughing wildly. Another group of girls were eyeing them with distaste from another table. The cook was sweating it out at the oven while Ratan, the waiter and helper and almost-everything–other- than-the-cook was trying to juggle his multifarious job. The rest of the tables were filled with the usual assortment of pupils. I even spotted a girl from third year chemistry sitting quietly at a table and reading. After some time Upen skulked in. 

“So, what’s the news?” he asked surreptitiously, sitting down opposite to me.

“I... why are you avoiding me? Only the other day I saw you talking to the cook and when you saw me coming you sped away. Is this a part of your investigation?” I said this just to annoy him a bit.

“You’re right. That was a part of the inquiry. I’ll explain later; now tell what you have gathered about Anisha. Did she have any enemies? Wait. Let’s first order something. Otherwise it’ll look suspicious.”

“Okay, order what you want.” I said just to humor him.

“I can’t order. I don’t know what you get here, I’ve never eaten here you know.” He said.

So I ordered two orange juices for us.

“How did you get my number?” I asked Upen while sipping the stuff.

“You can get anything if you ask around a bit. Now, what did you get about Anisha?”

“Oh! Lots! I and Suman caught up with some girls of her batch. They were unwilling to talk at first, but soon we got them talking freely.”

“What did they say about her?” Upen asked.

“According to them, Anisha was a, to use their words, ‘a real spoiled brat’. Her father is a big shot in some MNC, and so she had an air of royalty about her. Didn’t bother to bother with most students and hung out with only those she thought matched her status.”

“This means she must have had some enemies.” Upen said.

“Maybe, but I don’t think that it would be anything so serious that could lead to her death.” I told him.

“Well, go on then.”

“Yeah. Anisha was not a very great student, but she managed all right. In fact last year- this bit is really interesting so listen carefully-she won a national level science competition that had been held in college. Everyone thought that the sure winner would be, what’s her name...?” But no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t remember the name.

“Forget it;” Upen said comfortingly. “though I must say that if we had the name the thing would be half solved already. Anyway, what next?” 

“Another girl from her batch, but she beat her in the finals with her chemistry project. But that other girl, I think she was something Sanyal, refused to accept the results and said that Anisha had cheated, and this resulted in a furious row between them. But in the end Anisha was given the prize. 

You asked me find out if she had ever had a quarrel with any other girl, remember? Well this was the only serious one those girls could think of. And guess what, Mr. Garai was one of the judges of that contest.”

“And who did not go to her house on the day of her funeral?” Upen asked. 

“That they could not tell, because they themselves had not gone.” I told Upen.
After he had heard all this, Upen sat quietly for some time. I saw that he was looking around as if searching for something. I looked around too but found no change in the scenery except that the quiet girl had stopped reading her heavy looking book and was now rummaging in her bag. 

I guessed he was thinking again, and leaving him to do that I turned my attention to my orange juice. I noticed that Upen hadn’t even touched his.  He was looking around once more. I peered at him carefully for some time. ? Why was he interested in solving this crime?

“Priya?” he called.

“Hmm...” I muttered absentmindedly as I was looking at the quiet girl, now standing at the counter, apparently ordering something. Then I said:

“Upen, why we are...why are you doing this?”

  “What?” he asked shortly.

“Trying to solve this crime. Why are you so interested in finding out about the killer? I mean, if we don’t, it would not affect us. Or do you believe in Suman’s theory of a homicidal maniac?”

“I don’t. This was a personal grudge. And as for why I’m interested in solving this puzzle is that I know I can solve it. I would not have been interested in this thing at all if I didn’t know who the killer was.”

I felt my brain stop; I really did. I thought I had not heard him correctly. Looking at him I saw that he was smiling, happy to have produced the effect he wanted to. 

“Come again? You know who the killer is!!” I exclaimed. Upen nodded in agreement.

“Then why the hell are you trying to find out things about Anisha?” I almost cried in amazement. “Go tell the police.”

“You think they would believe me, do you? You wouldn’t believe it if I told you now. And I really don’t know if my assumption is true or not. It’s only a guess and guesses don’t hold with the law. We’ve got to get some conclusive proof. But first tell me, what does ‘ata’ mean to you?”

“Ata? Ata is gram flour. I really don’t see what this has to do with the thing we are discussing.”

“Oh yes. This has a lot to do with the identity of the killer. But first let me tell you what I have been doing all these days since our last meeting. The first thing I did was to go to the police station and explain what we were trying to do.”

“At least you did something sensible.” I said.

“Yeah right. And that’s why they tried to lock me up.”

“What?”

“Obviously. They thought I was trying to ‘disrupt their investigative procedures with false alarms’. But I did a fair amount of lying and met the officer in charge of the case. After hearing what I had to say he told me to carry on but keep it quiet. He also assured me of help when we would need it, and I’m sure that we will. Next, I had a talk with the canteen cook.”

“Yeah, I saw you.”

“Yes. Do you remember your telling me that the cook had complained of stuff being stolen from the canteen. Do you know what was stolen?” Upen asked me with a sparkle in his otherwise dullish eyes.

“No, I’ve no idea... maybe spoons and plates.”

“A knife!” Upen muttered with subdued enthusiasm. “That’s what was stolen. A meat knife, sharp enough to kill anyone.”

“So you’re saying that,” I felt his excitement transmitted to me as I grasped the matter. 

“The killer stole the knife from the canteen and used it to kill Anisha.”

“Exactly. That way there wouldn’t be the trouble of carrying it from home. And the cook told me that the knife was still missing, which means that the killer still has it.  

Then I went to Anisha’s house claiming to be her friend, and talked around a bit. What I gathered was this: Anisha’s father was a very good friend of Mr. Garai’s, and he helped Anisha prepare the chemistry project that got her the prize.”

”What? Then she had cheated. And we get another link with Garai and Anisha.”

”And now here’s the third link.” Saying so Upen took out a scrap of paper from his pocket and gave it to me. The paper was dirty and sooty, and the edges look as if they had been brunt. Near the corner of the scrap, written in very shaky handwriting, was ‘ata’.

“Ata. But why would someone write ata on a scrap of paper; maybe it’s a grocery list.” I suggested. 

“No it isn’t. I picked this up from the lab on the day Garai met with the accident. He wrote it before the explosion.  I went to the hospital too, and found that he's in a coma now. But the doctors say that they suspect he had been tied to his chair and the explosion was triggered to kill him.  I believe that he tried to write the name of the killer before the blast.”

”But then he can tell us...” and then I remembered that Mr. Garai was in coma. It maybe months before he recovered. 

“No he can’t.” I looked at the words in the paper. ‘Ata’. What sort of a name was that? I guess Upen understood what I was thinking and said:

”That’s not the full name, only a part. The paper got burnt due to the blast. But still we can try and find out the name.”

”How?”

“Easy. First, tell me a few girls’ names.”

“What exactly....”

“Just tell me Priya.”  Upen said tiredly.

“Alright. Priya (He! He!) Soma, Sunita, Anita, Kajal, Debi, Suniti, Anjali.”

“That is sufficient.  Now some boy’s names.”

“Anil, Rohit (Upen smiled), Ranadeb, Barun, Sumanta.”  

“Very nice. Now, tell me, do you see anything common in the girl’s names you’ve just said?” Upen asked me.

I thought for a while, but got nothing. “Well they are all names of girls, that I can tell you.”

“That’s one similarity.” Said Upen, smiling.  “But there is another more significant similarity. You see, most Indian names for girls end with either ‘aa’ or ‘ee’.  I mean the pronunciation. Like Priy’aa’ and Anjal’ee’.  Essentially vowel sounds. There are some boy’s names like that too, like you said Sumanta, but they are not that common. 

Now if we consider this ata to be the end of a name I think we can safely say that the murderer...”

”Is a girl!’ I exclaimed as understanding build up in my head.  

“Exactly.  Now to solve the last link completely. We know the killer is a girl, we know she has killed Anisha and has tried to kill Garai. Which girl do we know has a good enough reason to kill them?” Upen looked at me with humor in his eyes and I knew that he wanted me to answer the question. 

“The girl who lost the competition to Anisha!! My god, it’s done! Everything fits. If only we had the name dammit. I goofed up. I’m sorry. But then,” Another doubt rose in my mind. “Losing a competition doesn’t seem to be that good a motive for murder.” I asserted.

“Not to you Priya, because you are not a murderer. But to her murderous mind it is just reason enough. Remember, it is very difficult to gauge the mind of a murderer. And as for her name, well I know the name very well. But we cannot accuse her yet as we have no real proof.”

“So the plot is like this: Anisha is helped by Garai to win the competition, and probably he even gives her more marks than she deserved. Anisha wins and this ata girl makes up her mind to kill them both. But then why did she wait for one whole year before she started her killing spree?” I asked Upen, and he had his answer ready.

“So that the memory of what happened in the competition would fade from everyone’s mind. Then no one would be able to link her with the killings. But she had miscalculated. And that is what will lead to her doom.”

“We’ll have a tough job of proving it, though.” I said crestfallenly. “I mean, it’s like you said: everything we have done till now is guesswork. We don’t have any concrete proof, and the police will want proof.”

“Don’t worry; the proofs will be coming quite easily. Let’s go sit at that table.” 

Saying so Upen got up with his glass and went and sat at a table in between the noisy boy’s and the silent girl.  I followed him wearily. I was getting really tired by his antics. I tried to tell him so but he put a finger to his lips. He then said in a pretty loud voice:

“Let’s meet up at the Children’s park today after six, okay.”

A lot of people were staring at us. I saw a few of the girls smirk at me. I felt uncomfortable under the stares of all those people. And really angry at Upen. Promptly getting up, I stormed out of the canteen. 

Smirking, Upen followed me.

“Why the hell did you have to shout? Now people will be linking me with you and...and why do we need to ‘meet up’ at Children’s park today anyway?”

“Because the murderer will be there to kill us.” Upen said happily. I felt my jaw drop.

“Don’t joke.” I told him shakily.

“I’m not joking at all. Why do you think I blared in that room? The killer was there and she heard all that we discussed. I’m sure she will try to attack us today at the park. The park doesn’t have any lights and it’ll be perfect. But I think you shouldn’t go. After all,” Upen’s tone became genuinely grave. “ she’s sort of mad I guess. And I don’t think you should be put into danger.” 

“You’re impossible!” I could not hold myself back any longer. “After all this investigating you think I’ll be able to sit at home during the climax!! I’ll come with you.” I said resolutely. And I saw that admiration sparkling in Upen Sen’s eyes.

“I knew I had chosen the right person. So today after six; but don’t go straight to the park. Meet me at the bus stand and we’ll go together. I don’t want her to get us one by one.”

“After six then. Just,” Inspite of all my courage I felt a nasty lump in my throat. “just make sure she doesn’t kill us.”    

Upen smiled his mischievous, almost Machiavellian smile.  

The park felt uncannily eerie as we stepped into it. And no matter what courage I was showing in doing this, I felt as if I was seeing the entire place for the last time. 

A nasty tension tugged at my throat like a fishhook. I tried to steady myself by looking around. Today, the park was completely empty, totally free of anyone. 

This made me feel even more disturbed as I was used to seeing the place buzzing with people. It seemed as if some unseen force had deliberately stopped every being other than me from coming there. There was no wind, but I could swear I had heard the bushes behind me rustling. 

I cast a furtive glance backwards: no one was there. Upen walked quietly behind me, murmuring and glancing in all directions. A night bird called somewhere from the shady branches of the trees in the park. 

“I don’t think she has come.” I whispered with both hope and disappointment. Upen did not reply for some time. Then he whispered in my ear:

“Don’t look back or react. She’s behind us, in the shade of the trees.”

I stiffened a bit. I mean, you would have stiffened too if you knew that a murderer was stalking you. Upen and I went and sat at the same old bench. 

Then Upen said: “I’ll be disappearing for a while. Don’t fret.” He added on seeing my horrified face. “She will attack you on seeing you alone. Don’t worry, you won’t ruin a hair.”

I felt too numb to talk anyway. Upen really disappeared among the darkness while I sat there like a fool. Stormy thoughts were tearing my mind apart. Then it happened. 

A hand pressed down on my neck and I snatched myself away from it. Then I saw her. It was the girl who had been reading in the canteen! But now her face had a certain ferocity which I could not associate with her previous image. And then next moment she was on me with the knife. The blade glinted in the dark. I put out a hand to stop her.

Then in a flash, Upen Sen had jumped out of the bushes and caught her by the wrist. She strived but he wrenched the knife out of her hand and soon the girl was squirming in the clutches of two Policewomen instead.

“Tchi, tchi Miss Sujata Sanyal, never dreamed of a trap, did you!” Upen mocked her in a taunting voice. Sujata tried to break free and attack him but the two policewomen held her with professional resolute.  

“Priya, this is the girl who murdered Anisha and tried to kill Garai. Are you okay?” he added with concern in his voice. I replied that I was.

“Alright then. Officer,” Upen turned to the inspector. “I have already told you how we came to the conclusion about her. So I think there is no need for me to explain anything.”

“No there is no need. And I must say you two have done a marvelous job. Really marvelous.” Said the officer, beaming.

He seemed to be very much relieved at Sujata being caught. “But now she” the officer turned sharply to Sujata who was still trying to break free. “will explain how she did this.”   

Then, after much pressurizing, Sujata began her story.

“Anisha was not at all a good student.” Sujata said with a stony face set with grim fortitude. And from the way she spoke one could tell that she did not feel sorry for what she had done. 

In fact the way she narrated her tale was as if she were giving us an account of how she had done the right thing.

“She had no interest in science, but still she had taken up chemistry just so that she could boast and say: ‘Look I study science’. Her attitude towards those who came from economically weak families such as me was unbearable. She behaved as if she was something very special. 

When the science competition was announced last year, I put in my name because the prize scholarship would help me to carry on my studies.” 

At this point her voice became menacing once more. “Then Anisha entered the competition. She had no need for the money, she was filthy rich anyway!! But still she vied for the prize and won it. 

I wouldn't have grudged my losing if I had lost to a deserving person. But I knew that Anisha had cheated, for I had overheard her telling some of her fags that Garai was one of the chief judges of the event, and her father had connections with him. I understood then and there that she was cheating. 

I told it to everyone but who would believe me over Anisha Arora?” Her eyes became blood shot and she continued in a raised voice. “I decided then that I would have my revenge, but I waited so that everyone would forget about the incident of the competition. Then I should be safe.  On the day I killed Anisha I called her to the back garden in the rain. I knew that no one would be out then.”

“Why did you think she would come, she might not have?” Upen asked her. She smiled slyly.

“Oh no. I knew she would come. I told her that I had proof that she had cheated in the competition, and if she did not come and speak to me I would give those proofs to the principal. She took the bait and came. We had a quarrel and then I attacked her with the knife I had stolen from the canteen. She struggled but I managed to kill her in the end.” 

And the relish, the delight with which Sujata said this made my skin creep. I looked away from her, but still I could hear her chilling explanation of the crime, which was just as bad.

“Later I realized that one of the stones of my earrings had fallen somewhere. I thought it might have fallen when I was fighting with Anisha. I went to get it back but by then her body had been discovered and the police had been informed; so I could do nothing. But I guess no one found that out (Upen grinned at me).

Anisha was dead, but I had to teach Garai a lesson too. I chose to do it on the day of Anisha’s funeral. Very few people had come that day, and I knew that Garai would come as he was preparing some reagents for our practical class the next day. 

I hid myself in the lab before him, and prepared some chloroform. As soon as he had entered the room I chloroformed him and tied him to his chair. Then I prepared a mixture that would explode after being heated for a calculated time limit. I set the mixture in a flask on a Bunsen burner and positioned Garai near it so that he would get the full blast. I had my doubts whether it would kill him or not, but it was strong enough to cripple him for life. But he woke up just before I was leaving and I had to gag him with some filter papers. Well I think you people know the rest.” She finished.

The officer got up and said:
“That was no cause for you try to kill two people! You could have...”

“Just shut up.” Sujata screamed. “I did what was right and I’ll do it again.” She looked at Upen. 

“I’ll get you someday, whoever you are.”            
We left the park and walked back towards the bus stand.  No matter how hard I tried I could not forget Sujata’s face: malicious and contorted with unspeakable ferocity. 

And a shiver went through me as I realized how close I had been to death today. I looked at Upen walking silently a few paces behind me. His brows were screwed up and he was constantly scratching his head. 

“What happened? Why are you so serious now, the thing’s done.”  I said to him.

He looked at me for a few moments. 

“I’m sorry Priya,” he said apologetically. “I shouldn’t have involved you in this. Anything could have happened...”

“Awe shut up. I didn’t mind. And as a matter of fact,” I felt surprised as I said this. “I enjoyed the adventure! It was like one of those thriller movies. I wouldn’t mind doing it again if you ask me!”

“I really had chosen the right person to help me in this case. You make difficult things very easy.” Upen said.

“Well congrats anyway.” I shook his hand, and he returned the gesture. Just then I remembered something I had forgotten in all this confusion.

“Upen, tell me one thing: you said that you knew the killer from the beginning. How?” 

Hearing my question Upen laughed. “Oh that! That was luck more than anything else. You see, I saw Sujata passing in the corridor that morning when she killed Anisha. I noticed her because she was wearing a pair of rather glittery earrings. I thought them funny. 

Later that day when I was standing by the gate and everyone was leaving. I happened to see her again and noticed that one of her earrings was no longer sparkling; the stone had fallen off!! Also I detected a certain furtiveness in her manner which suggested she had done something illicit. And what was more illicit that day than the murder!!”

“ You’ve got to admit that it was a long shot.” I said to him.

“Obviously it was a long shot. Everything is a long shot. Without long shots...”

“Okay okay point taken. I just hope that this incident won’t come up in the papers. My parents will go berserk if they found out I’ve been running around catching murderers instead of studying.” I said, and not without genuine worry.

“Mine too. Anyway, see you tomorrow, goodbye for now.”

“Yeah, goodbye.” I told him.

Upen Sen turned to cross the street, and walked across to the other side. I watched him, a silently odd figure, with his head slightly between his shoulders, arms hangings limply at his side.

Crossing the street Upen Sen looked, not at me, but at the drowning sun. The reddish light bounced off his specs as he stood silently, a figure very much common, yet detached from the crowd in some way I could not explain. Then suddenly he turned away from that sinking ball of fire, and walked on.


                                                                         THE END  

   

 







 







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