Second Lives (25 page)

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Authors: Anish Sarkar

BOOK: Second Lives
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The situation had suddenly changed. The tables were dramatically turned on us. Roy now knew where
we
were. There was no doubt in my mind that he was going to come to kill us. There would be no more warnings.

Omar jerked his head up and exclaimed, ‘This whole thing has become a big, fucking joke! We’re not living in a banana republic. Is there no law or justice in this country? I simply can’t understand how one man can go about murdering people whenever he wants!’

I said calmly, ‘Omar, it’s up to us to stop him now.’

He clenched his fist. ‘The only way to do that is to kill the bastard.’

‘Don’t forget we’re dealing with a man who is an expert at taking human lives. He’s strangled, stabbed and shot people to death.’ I paused. ‘Killing in cold blood isn’t about physical strength or fighting ability. It’s about a state of mind which very few people possess…’

Sara interrupted. ‘…Thank God for that.’

‘We’re dealing with a deranged man here. But a man who is extremely cunning and resourceful, otherwise he wouldn’t have evaded detection for twelve years.’

She put her hand on my arm. ‘You’re right, Neel. I think we’re way out of our depth here. I mean, we’re up against a sadistic murderer and none of us has ever killed anyone before!’

I didn’t say anything.

Truth was, I
had
killed someone. It happened five years ago. During a combing exercise for terrorists in Kashmir. We had received intelligence that five insurgents had crossed over the border with the objective of striking Srinagar. They had been trained and armed by our friendly neighbour, of course. It was my first live operation. Despite all the extensive training, I was pretty nervous.

We were a party of thirty soldiers led by an experienced colonel. Doing a door-to-door search of a remote village. The stunning views of the snow-capped Karakoram range created an incongruous setting for the dark work at hand. We split into two groups. One formed a circle around the village. The other spread out among the small huts.

I was stationed at the northern side of the circle. Our job was to ensure that no one got away during the search. I kept my eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. Even though the weather was cool, I could feel the sweat pour freely down my face. The area was deserted. All the villagers had run into their houses at the sight of us. An hour went by. The other team was down to their last few houses. I started to relax.

Suddenly, I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye. I slid off the safety catch of my rifle. Advanced slowly in that direction. Without warning, a man emerged from behind a tree towards my left. I swung around towards him. My finger tightened around the trigger reflexively. The three-shot burst reverberated through the valley.

The man dropped to the ground in a heap. I ran up to him. He was quite dead. His eyes were wide open. Blood seeped out from the bullet holes bunched close together on his chest. He looked like a villager. Bending over, I threw up on the grass next to him. I had broken every rule in the book. Fired unprovoked on an innocent man.

Hearing the shots, the others rushed to the spot. The colonel himself helped me up. Asked what had happened. Before I could answer, there was a shout from one of the soldiers. He had seen two men running towards the thick forest adjoining the village. The colonel barked swift orders. I stayed where I was. The others fanned out along the mountainside.

Soon, there was the staccato sound of gunfire. More shouting. I scrambled up and ran towards the action. Four of the terrorists had holed up inside an abandoned cabin. We had surrounded them. They had apparently managed to sneak out of the village even as the search was underway. The exchange of fire went on for thirty minutes. Until one of our men managed to get close enough to lob a grenade through a window. All four were killed.

Correction, all five. The man I had shot turned out to be the fifth man. They were all dressed in the garb of local hill folk to prevent detection. In fact, they were making their way stealthily up the mountain when I had spotted the last one in line. My shots had panicked the others. They began to run and were seen. I was hailed for having killed a dangerous enemy agent on my very first mission. As well as enabling the elimination of the others. Who would otherwise have gotten away. A stroke of luck had turned disaster into triumph. I didn’t feel any better. Nothing prepares you for taking another man’s life. Whoever he might be. The face of the dead man appeared in my nightmares for months after that.

But I wouldn’t feel any such qualms about killing Roy. It would be like exterminating a vile insect.

63

Sara

The three of us argued about what to do in the face of the looming danger.

Omar said emphatically, ‘We’re sitting ducks here. For all you know, he’ll come tonight and wipe us out.’

‘It’ll be three against one,’ countered Neel.

‘What makes you think Roy will come alone? I think it’s clear that he has associates, maybe even some kind of an organised gang.’

Omar was right.
Roy would not take any chances this time.

I looked around the living room. It had glass doors which opened out into the garden but there was also a collapsible gate on the outside for added safety. I had already closed and locked it, even though it was only seven o’clock. All the windows in the house were grilled but I had kept them shut anyway. We were battened down like a fortress under siege!

I said, ‘He’s not going to find it easy to get in, at any rate.’

Omar looked at me. ‘Sara, I think we should leave your house immediately and hole up in a place where Roy won’t be able to find us.’

Neel turned to him angrily. ‘You mean we should run away, Omar?’

‘Neel, discretion is the better part of valour. What’s the point if all of us get killed?’

‘Then why did we publish the ad, or come here in the first place?’ Neel’s voice was angry. ‘If we don’t stop Roy now, no one else will!’

I broke into the conversation. ‘Guys, I have an idea. We’ve agreed that going to the police is out of the question but tomorrow morning, I’ll arrange to have some private security guards deployed around the house. I know a good agency, and the owner’s a friend.’

After a moment, Omar said, ‘What about tonight then?’

In reply, Neel took out a pistol from his pocket. It was an old revolver, the type you would see in the hand of the villain in Hindi films from the sixties and seventies.

He pointed it at Omar and said, ‘A Webley Mk IV, my grandfather’s service pistol. Very effective, especially at close range.’

Omar flinched. ‘Turn that thing away from me!’

I too got nervous seeing Neel brandish a gun. We were all highly strung.
I didn’t want any accidents.
I said sharply, ‘Put it down, Neel!’

‘Don’t worry, it’s not loaded.’ Neel expertly opened the Webley by breaking the barrel from its frame and showing us an empty cylinder.

Omar relaxed visibly. ‘Aren’t revolvers outdated? I would have thought a hotshot military type like you would be carrying a Glock or something like that.’

‘Don’t be fooled by its vintage. Thirteen men and one woman have been killed by this baby.’

There was distinct pride in Neel’s voice.

Omar looked at the Webley with new respect.

Neel continued, ‘And I plan to make it fifteen.’

There was a strange look in his eyes which scared me.

Omar smiled and said, ‘Well, you need to put some bullets in it first.’

Just then, the door-bell rang. I got up, assuming it was the Chinese food I had ordered in from a local restaurant. I must have been distracted so I opened the door without even checking through the keyhole. My heart stopped when I saw who it was.

Roy.

part three

64

Roy

Sara stared at me, shock and horror on her face.

I smiled and said, ‘Hello, Sara.’

There was a scrambling movement from inside, and Omar and Neel emerged behind her. The expression on their faces was exactly the same. It was almost comical.

‘Hi guys. Long time no see.’

Neel shouted, ‘Sara, close the door!’

‘It’s not what you think.’ I raised my hands. ‘I haven’t killed anyone.’ That was technically a lie but true in context.

There was confusion on their faces for a moment. Then Omar lunged forward but I managed to get my foot over the threshold. Neel pointed a revolver at me and screamed ‘Roy, back out. Right now!’

I sighed. It was time for Plan B.

I took out my own handgun, a Walther PPK .380 which fit nicely in any pocket and was perfect for basic security. It’s an all-time classic, though I don’t know if I favoured it because of my German genes. I never carried anything else, unless there was likelihood of heavy action.

I said calmly, ‘Put that down, Neel. Unlike yours, mine is loaded.’

The three of them moved back as I advanced into the room, closing the door behind me. Neel looked furious, probably as much with himself as with me. I had seen the empty cylinder of his revolver and guessed that there wasn’t a bullet in the breech either. Most people keep their guns unloaded anyway. In my line of work, that’s nothing short of a cardinal sin.

‘Sit down!’ I barked, just to ensure none of them tried anything silly. They slowly sat down on the plush sofas. I figured that Sara must be pretty wealthy. She still looked dazed, and moved like a zombie. Neel was closest to where I was standing, and I could make out that he was judging the distance between us for a desperate attempt to overpower me.

‘What are you waiting for?’ Omar said angrily. ‘Pull the fucking trigger and end it quickly!’

I knew they had jumped to conclusions but this took me by surprise. ‘Why do you think I would want to do that?’

‘Aren’t you here to kill us?’

‘I’m not here to harm any of you.’ To prove it, I put my gun down on the centre table in front of them. ‘In fact, I need your help.’

Sara finally found her voice. ‘Help?’

Neel immediately picked up the Walther and pointed it back at me. ‘You just made a big mistake, Roy. That’s your death warrant.’

I looked him steadily in the eye but didn’t say anything.

Sara put her hand on Neel’s arm. ‘Wait, Neel. Let’s hear what he has to say.’

He gave a brief nod but kept the gun trained on my head. ‘You have exactly a minute to explain why I shouldn’t kill you, Roy.’

‘What have I done, Neel?’

‘I don’t have to tell you.’ He paused. ‘You could have at least spared Rachel.’

I said, ‘I didn’t kill Rachel. Or any of the others.’

Omar leaned forward and asked, ‘Then who did, Roy?’

‘Karan,’ I replied.

65

Sara

Karan!

Karan Singh.
Son of a former Cabinet minister. A rising young political star, almost certain to be Chief Minister of his home state in the next elections and perhaps even Prime Minister someday.

Karan had studied in our school but was a couple of years senior to us. He came from a prominent family in Delhi, which was very wealthy from pre-Independence landholdings and shrewd business investments but far more famous for its political lineage.

Karan and I had dated during our school days. I had my eye on him for a while but really met him for the first time during an inter-school swimming competition. He was the captain of our boys’ team and it was easy to see why when his muscular arms scythed through the water, propelling him ahead of the field in practically every race. I was also in the girls’ team that year so it wasn’t difficult for me to get introduced to him, and strike up a conversation. He was known to be shy with girls so I went ahead and brazenly asked him out. I still remember the strange look on his face at that but he had agreed. We were going around with each other before the week was over.

There was no doubt that he was different from all my previous boyfriends.
He showered me with expensive gifts and took me for long rides on his big motorcycle. Every date was special and had some well-planned surprise for me. On my birthday, I found a bouquet of roses and a hand-painted card at the foot of my bed when I woke up in the morning. I never figured out how he managed that!

I had never been so completely adored and possessed by a boy before. Actually, I thought of Karan more as a man. He was certainly mature beyond his years.

Out of the three boys in the group, the only one Karan got along well with was Omar.

Neel had always hated Karan, and not just because he was my boyfriend. The two of them had taken an instant, instinctive dislike for each other. Neel found Karan flashy and pompous while Karan thought Neel was the biggest oddball he had ever come across. Each was spot-on in their assessment of the other, of course!

Neel was the first to exclaim, ‘Karan?!’

Roy nodded.

‘You mean
our
Karan…That insufferable prick from school?’

‘Yes, none other. Except that he’s also a remorseless psychopath.’

I blurted, ‘But I…I just met him in Goa.’

Neel glared at me. ‘How come you didn’t tell us, Sara?’

‘I…We…He had dropped in the day you left.’

His face was dark with anger but he didn’t say anything to that.

Omar asked incredulously, ‘Roy, are you saying that Karan killed Rachel and all those other girls?’

‘That’s right. I know about quite a few of them but there could be several I’m not aware of. You see, Karan is brilliant at covering his tracks.’

‘Even Jo?’

‘She was one of his earliest victims.’
I sensed the dull pain in his voice.
Jo was the first girl Roy had ever fallen in love with.

Neel looked at Omar and me. ‘I’m not sure we can believe him. Maybe he’s making this story up about Karan to save himself.’

Roy said mildly, ‘Why would I do that, Neel?’

Omar added, ‘Neel’s right, Roy. What you’re saying is unbelievable. Karan is a public figure. A bloody celebrity!’

‘That’s exactly why he’s got away with his crimes for so many years.’

Taking up the refrain, I pointed a finger at Roy and said sternly, ‘You better explain yourself.’

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