Revenge
The open ground was bordered by huge cardboard poster cutouts of Minister Jagatratshagan, shown smiling with his palms folded together. Over five hundred of his party cadres were gathered there, all wearing the party uniform. Jagatratshagan roared into the microphone.
“The opposition accuses me of having no respect for my cadres. I have just one thing to say. Listen to me; I have signed over my life to this party. I am the property of my cadre!” The air thundered with applause.
From the top of a building across the ground, a pair of eyes watched the drama unfold. The watcher held a state-of-the-art rifle in his hands.
“The opposition also says that I view women as mere sexual objects,” Jagatratshagan continued. “How can they fling such accusations at me? I am a man who accords all the women of Tamil Nadu with the same respect as I do my own mother.” The crowd clapped once again.
Anger raged in the heart of the man watching him in the crosshairs. If you respect every woman as you would your mother, then what did it mean when you raped my Nirmala? He chewed his nails furiously, and aimed the rifle at Jagatratshagan’s heart.
“Every single woman of Tamil Nadu is as my mother, my Goddess!” cried Jagatratshagan passionately.
No! You cannot be permitted to go on with these lies. I, Nirmala’s brother, will not allow you to deceive the people any longer! He made the decision—and pulled the trigger. The bullet rocketed straight into Jagatratshagan’s heart. Jagatratshagan collapsed in a pool of blood, as his security guards and the crowd watched stunned.
All around Jagatratshagan’s body, forensic officers were searching with their magnifying glasses for clues. Press photographers clicked their cameras from every angle of the scene. Commissioner Dhanapal turned to Sasivaran and Sabapathy, who saluted him. “You have exactly a week to catch whoever did this. Any longer and the case will be moved to Delhi. That will mean big trouble for us.” With that, he walked away.
Sasivaran approached one of the forensics officers. “Have you found anything?” he asked.
“Sir, the murderer aimed straight for the heart. The bullet has not penetrated very deep, but it has caused a great loss of blood. We can’t see the back of the bullet yet, but once we retrieve it, I’m sure it will turn out to be from a foreign gun. Beyond this, we just have to wait for the post-mortem report.”
“Ok,” shrugged Sasivaran, letting his eyes roam over the ground. He did not think that the murderer had been standing among the cadres; shooting a minister down from the middle of a crowd of five hundred and escaping unhurt would have been impossible. He gazed at the one tall building that stood near the ground like a lonely orphan. A bulb switched on in his brain. “Sabapathy, let’s go over to that building,” he said, walking towards it. Sabapathy followed him, puzzled.
On the terrace of the building, Sasivaran asked, “Sabapathy, you can see the platform on which Jagatratshagan was speaking clearly from here, can’t you?”
Sabapathy took a good look before he replied, “Yes, sir.”
“My guess is that the killer aimed from here.”
“Looks like it, sir.”
“Let’s search this place thoroughly. We might find some clues.”
They explored for over an hour, but found nothing useful, and returned disappointed.
Sasivaran sat in front of Jagaratshagan’s personal assistant.
“Your name?”
“V. Arumugam.”
“Mr. Arumugam, do you know if the minister had any enemies?”
“Every member of the opposition is his enemy!”
“Leave the political parties out of it. Does he have any personal enemies?’
Arumugam thought for a while. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Ok. How long have you been his P.A.?”
“Just for the past two months.”
“What happened to the previous P.A.?”
“She was a woman—her name was Nirmala. She died—I mean, she was murdered.”
“What? Who murdered her?”
“Her brother stabbed her to death because she refused to give him money for liquor. The print media carried the story on the front page, sir…”
“Fine. I’ll go now—but please let us know if you learn about any personal enemies the minister may have had.”
He met Sabapathy outside.
“What does the minister’s post-mortem report say, Sabapathy?”
“Nothing that will help our investigation much, sir. Because the bullet was lodged in the centre of his heart, he died on the spot. He lost over two litres of blood.”
“Ok, Sabapathy, you may go. I need to go home to freshen up a bit.”
He headed home. As he got off his bike, he noticed a piece of paper stuck to the compound wall of his house. He read it with growing alarm.
Dear Sasivaran,
You are trying to impede my goal. Please do not pursue this case; it won’t turn out well for you if you do. If you don’t give up your pursuit, then you will meet the same fate as the minister.
Sincerely Yours,
Jagatratshagan’s Yaman
Two days passed with no fresh clue. Unable to sleep, Sasivaran turned restlessly in his bed. It was past one o’ clock. Who had the courage to come up to my compound and paste that poster on my wall? What did he have against Jagatratshagan? Why did he resort to murder? The sound of a motorcycle broke into his restless thoughts. Who could it be at this hour? Taking his torch from the bedside table, he walked to the living room window and quietly pushed aside the curtain. A man wearing a helmet stood next to the wall with a sheet of paper in his hand. His bike was parked nearby. The man removed a bottle of glue from his pocket and calmly spread it on the poster.
Sasivaran’s blood boiled. He has come to warn me again. What cheek, to come right into the lion’s cave! Sasivaran moved to the back door.
The man was now pressing the poster onto the wall. He proofread the poster with his pen-torch again.
Dear Sasivaran,
I know that your wife and child have been sent out of town. I warned you two days ago, but you are still on this case. I know you are alone in the house. Either you let go of this case, or you will let go of your life, and leave behind a widowed wife and an orphaned child.
Sincerely Yours,
Yaman, hungry for a few more Jagaratshagans
Satisfied, the man turned with the pen-torch and was stunned to see Sasivaran standing there with a calm smile on his face.
The man attacked him, but Sasivaran soon overpowered him and knocked him unconscious. Sasivaran carried him into the house, laid him on the bed, and tied him up to the bedposts. He was still unconscious. Sasivaran brought a glass of water and poured some on his face. He slowly opened his eyes.
“Sir… sir… where am I?”
“It’s not a police station, I promise you that. I never arrest anyone without proper investigation.”
“I… my name is Vinod.”
“Fine. Now tell me, why did you kill Jagatratshagan? You’ve claimed that you will kill many more Jagatratshagans; why?”
“Have you heard of Nirmala?”
“The minister’s personal assistant? I heard that she was murdered by her brother.”
“I am that brother, sir.”
“What? You? Then you have committed two murders.”
“No, no… I have killed only Jagatratshagan. I did not kill my Nirmala!”
“Can you explain, please?”
“Can you untie me?”
Sasivaran trusted the look in his eyes, and loosened the knots. The man leaned on the bedposts and began his story.
“Sir, my name is Vinod. Nirmala was my only sister. We lost our parents as young children. I worked in the mill, and put her through school myself. After her graduation, she joined Jagatratshagan as his P.A. I was already aware that he was a philanderer. I begged her not to take up the job, but she would not listen to me; the pay was too good. One day, the thing I feared most happened. She went to his room to get his signature for a file, and that monster molested her. Afterwards he pressed a few rupees into her hand and told her to keep it quiet. She came home heartbroken. I had just returned from work and was having my dinner. In front of me, she burned the money Jagatratshagan had given her, and then she ran into her room with a knife in her hand, and locked herself in. I couldn’t do anything but stand at the window sobbing, ‘No, no, please don’t…’
“My sister, through tears, told me what had happened. Screaming that she did not want to live any more, she stabbed herself to death, even as I stood there watching.
“Finally I broke open the door. Nirmala, the sister I had brought up with so much love, was now lying on my lap, gasping her last breath. She begged me not ruin my life by taking revenge on Jagatratshagan, but to go to the police and lodge a formal complaint.
“I wanted to fulfill her last wish. So I left her body at home and rushed to the station, wrote out a complaint and asked them to arrest that ogre. But by my bad luck, the inspector was one of Jagatratshagan’s allies. He jailed me—me, an innocent man—on the charge of murder. He accused me of being an alcoholic and killing my own sister in a dispute over liquor money. I had tried to remove the knife from her stomach, and my fingerprints on the weapon worked against me.
“I was sentenced to life in prison. It was then that I determined that Jagatratshagan, who had destroyed my sister’s life and my own, should live no more. I escaped from prison, procured a rifle from a friend who lives abroad, and shot him dead.
“But my vengeance is not complete. I have a list of politicians who have ruined the lives of many women to satisfy their sexual lust. I must annihilate each one of them to save women like my sister. This is my only goal. When I heard that you were investigating this case, I wanted to scare you off, so I put up the poster. You would not give up. So I tried putting up another poster, but you caught me. Come sir, let’s go…”
“Where?” asked Sasivaran, with tears in his eyes.
“To the police station, sir,” said Vinod.
“No, man! I cannot arrest you. You are free to go.”
“Sir? But why?”
Sasivaran sighed. “Look Vinod… I, also, had a sister once. Her name was Tharangini. She died very young, of blood cancer. I remember how hard it was to watch my sister dying from that horrible illness—I could not take it. But for you… your sister was molested and committed suicide right in front of your eyes! How could you possibly bear the pain?
“I believe what you have done was just. If no one had come after him, Jagatratshagan would still be preying upon countless other women. You have eradicated a poisonous weed. I don’t think that what you have done is wrong.
“What would happen if I arrested you? I would be acting to protect all the politicians who disrespect and abuse women. How would that be in the nation’s best interests?
“No—I believe you are a divine incarnation, born to rid this world of such pestilence. I do not want to impede your goal. But you must leave this place immediately. You never came to my house, I never saw you. Now go—and hurry!”
Vinod grabbed Sasivaran’s hands. “Sir—Thank you,” he cried. He put on his helmet, kickstarted his bike and fled.
The sun was up. Sasivaran looked at the clock. It was already seven. He had his bath and was dressing for duty when his cell phone rang.
“Hello, Sasivaran. Any progress in the case?” barked Dhanapal at the other end.
“No sir, no progress. I don’t think I can crack this one. Please relieve me from the case.”
“I don’t believe I’m hearing this from you!”
“I’m sorry, sir,” said Sasivaran. Not waiting to listen to the commissioner’s response, he cut the call and dropped the mobile into his pocket.
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