Bankerupt (Ravi Subramanian) (33 page)

Aditya spent the rest of the day trying to patch up parts of the house that had been torn apart during the assault on Narayanan. The doors had been restored and security alarms installed. But the inside of the house was still a mess.

That afternoon, too, the detectives from Windle’s team spent over three hours with him. It had become a routine for them. This time, Shivinder was also around. The detective found it extremely strange that two friends who had turned bitter foes had suddenly found solace in each other’s company.

After they left, Shivinder went off to visit the lawyer they planned to hire. This was going to be a longer process than what either of them had ever imagined.

Aditya walked to the garage to pull out some tools from the kit hanging on the wall. His car was parked there. He switched on the lights, walked to the far end beyond the car and plucked a hammer from the wall. He needed it for putting a few nails through the hard wood of the cupboard. He turned back and was crossing the car, when he looked inside casually. A big box was lying in the boot. Carefully, he carried the box into the house, wondering how he had forgotten to remove it after he brought it back from MIT on the day of Cirisha’s memorial.

Memories of that day flashed before him as he cut open the box.

At the top were several files—work permits, visa papers, income statements and so on. A photoframe with a wedding photo of the two of them was next. Awards, mementoes and stationery formed the next few layers. There was a picture of the entire team. He recognized a few of them from community dinners. There was also a strip of medicine. Like her mother, Cirisha too was diabetic and needed regular medication.

At the bottom of the pile were a few plastic folders with papers in them. He pulled them out. In one of them was the printout of the email which Cirisha had intended to hand over to Windle—Richard’s cryptic email. He had seen the email earlier when they were trying to crack open the lockers at the fencing facility. Back then, Cirisha had SMSed the image to him. It didn’t prevent him from clicking a picture of the email with his iPhone again. This email was the root cause of Cirisha’s involvement in this mire, he thought.

There was nothing else of significance in the box. He packed everything back in it, taped it up and dumped it in Cirisha’s study. As he turned back, Cirisha’s pretty face beckoned him. It was lying on the floor, sandwiched between the study table and the wall. A red band around the photograph made it easier for him to pick it up. He looked at it for a while. The white plastic around her photo had browned. It was a long while back that she had got it made. The photo was almost a decade old. Not much had changed. He reached for it and picked it up. Bringing Cirisha’s MIT identity card up to his lips, he kissed it, looked at it adoringly and kept it back on the table. She was not going to come back.

63

11th June 2008

Boston

When Deahl drove into the MIT parking lot, it was fuller than what he had seen over the years. On a regular day, there would be about eight to ten cars. However, that day there were over twenty-five cars parked. His intuition was telling him that there could be trouble today. When he got closer to the Academic Block, he could see what the problem was. He continued walking. Flashbulbs started going off, almost in unison. When they saw him, the journalists standing outside the Academic Block started running in his direction. They had been waiting for him since morning.

‘There has been some talk going around that the data, which is the basis of
Staring Down the Barrel
, is doctored. What do you have to say about that?’ They all had the same question.

‘Rubbish!’ Blood rushed to his cheeks. He was furious. ‘What are you talking about? I have no clue,’ Deahl snapped. It was a bad start to the day.

‘Is the inmate data incorrect?’ someone screamed. So that’s where it came from. That asshole David Windle had leaked the information to the press.

‘Your allegations are ridiculous and undeserving of a response.’ He continued walking and entered the Academic Block. The door shut behind him; the journalists couldn’t get in and were left outside holding their mics and video cameras. Deahl first called the security in-charge of the block and gave him a dressing down for having allowed the press into the campus. He then called Windle. ‘Who the hell authorized you to talk to the press?’

‘Pardon me?’

‘How did the press get wind of the issue we discussed yesterday? How could you tell them?’

‘Must I remind you, Dr Deahl, I take instructions from the American government, not you or your university or your sponsors. Have a good day, Dr Deahl.’ And he slammed the phone down.

Christopher Jenkins had spread the word and in a matter of hours, the whole media circle knew about the controversy surrounding
Staring Down the Barrel
. The NRA was upset by the turn of events. Lucier called Deahl and advised him to hold a press conference and address all the questions. Deahl grudgingly agreed.

64

11th June 2008

Boston

Around the same time, not so far away, Aditya had just woken up. He made himself a cup of coffee and sat by the window reminiscing about the past. The last twelve months had been pure hell. First it was his job, then his wife, then his father-in-law and now, he faced the prospect of being convicted for his wife’s murder. ‘Whoever said you pay for your sins in your next life was wrong. Here I am paying for my sins in this life itself,’ he thought. As his eyes panned the outside of the house, he saw his overflowing mailbox. Cirisha was always the one who cleared it. He had to get used to doing things on his own now. He staggered to his feet, walked up to the mailbox and began pulling out what looked like junk mail. Credit card offers, a few newspapers and discount coupons.

There was also a rejection letter from Cambridge Partners. They had displayed amazing alacrity in sending him that. They presumably wanted to document the reason why they had met him. The very sight of it got him agitated. He swung around and in one sweeping motion of his hand, began pushing all the mail furiously into the garbage bin sitting right next to the mailbox. As he turned around to head back into the house, he saw from the corner of his eye, a yellow paper sticking out of the bin. In a flash, he picked it up and stared at it in surprise. Thank God Cirisha was not around, else she would have given him grief over this!

Back inside, Aditya was keeping himself busy, trying to get the house back in shape. His mind kept oscillating between thoughts of Cirisha, Narayanan, GB2, his job, his career and his life back in India. He remembered how Cirisha had pinched his ears hard when she had found out that he had bribed a traffic constable on being caught for jumping a red light. Her absence was beginning to turn into a ghost-like presence.

He walked to the table, picked up the yellow speeding ticket and looked at it. ‘You could have got me in trouble,’ he said. His eyes skimmed over the ticket from top to bottom subconsciously.

And that’s when he saw it.

It struck him like a lightning bolt. The colour drained from his cheeks. He read it again. Then for the second time. And then again and again. It was not a speeding ticket that he had been handed. It was in Cirisha’s name. But more importantly, it was for the car that she used to drive. He looked at the date. It was the same day that she died.

Time of offence: an hour and a half before her body was found.

65

11th June 2008

Boston

Aditya stiffened a little the moment he heard the voice over the phone. ‘Lieutenant? Aditya here. I need to talk to you.’

‘Tell me. I am a bit tied up. So please keep it short.’

‘The day she was killed, Cirisha had gone to MIT.’

‘What?’

‘Yes.’

‘But MIT is in a different direction. Boston Public Garden is to the east of Glen Evelyn Drive, whereas MIT is a fair distance to the west. And she was in her jogging gear.’

‘Yes. I know. But that day, in the morning, she was spotted close to the institute, driving at a very high speed.’

‘By whom?’

‘The traffic cameras. The pilot cameras that the traffic department has installed at the 93rd entry into the northbound carriageway of the Massachusetts Turnpike.’ Windle knew that the 93rd entry into the turnpike, northbound, was on the road leading to the turnpike from MIT. Anyone getting on to the highway from the 93rd entry was in all likelihood coming from MIT.

‘Have you seen the feed? How did you get it? Are you sure?’

‘I haven’t seen the feed, lieutenant. However, I have a speeding ticket. The overspeeding was recorded by the speed guns an hour and a half before she was found at Boston Public Garden. And she was going at 120 miles an hour in a place where the speed limit is 80. I can’t imagine her driving so fast, lieutenant. Unless she was really stressed or worried, she would never do something like this.’

Shivinder walked in just as Aditya was finishing the last leg of his conversation with Windle.

‘Let me check and get back. I have the access records for the Academic Block. Let me call you back.’ He hung up.

Aditya saw the confused look on Shivinder’s face and told him about the ticket.

‘MIT? Why would she go there that early in the morning?’

‘I don’t know. It surprises me even more because she was in any case planning to go there later that afternoon on her way to the airport. She was to take a flight to Phoenix.’

‘What time did she leave?’ Shivinder was curious.

‘Dad saw her leave around five in the morning. He saw her stop by the door to his room. The keys are hung there, you see.’

Shivinder started thinking. ‘Unless she went there to … check on something about those papers.’

‘That is, assuming she took the papers to the university,’ Aditya argued.

‘They were not with her when she was found. Either she hid them or someone took them from her.’

‘Correct. There are only three possibilities. The papers are here at home, they have been kept somewhere safe by Cirisha, or someone has taken them from her. There can’t be a fourth option, right?’

‘Very unlikely.’

‘They’re not at home. I have scanned every nook and corner. In fact I hunted for the papers even the day she died and the day after. If her murderer had the papers, they wouldn’t have assaulted Dad. So it’s clear that they didn’t find them on Cirisha, if the papers were what they were after.’

‘Which only means she has kept it somewhere in the university,’ Shivinder reasoned.

The phone rang. Aditya picked it up on the third ring. ‘Aditya.’

‘Lieutenant Windle.’

‘Yes, lieutenant.’

‘I checked on what you just told me. The traffic department has a record and a visual of someone driving the car away from the university and getting on to the turnpike. The images captured by the traffic video are too grainy to make out the driver’s face.’

‘OK. So she did go to the university.’

‘But strangely, her access card shows no activity. She hadn’t used her access card to get into the building.’