The case
“The residents of this bustling resedential area were woken up with a loud blast in the wee hours of the morning.” The reporter was screaming into her mike.
“Lets listen to a witness - the neighbour of the house where the blast happened.”
A middle aged man still dressed for the night started speaking into the microphone.
“It was around 3 or 4 in the morning...” Varadan muted the account.
“Its excatly the same. No partially in testifying to the police or media.” He mused as he sat back on his recliner.
Looking at the clock, he sighed, stretched and got up walking toward the door.
“A simple case of a gas stove mishandling. Maximum of one days worth of investigations.
Poor media they literally have nothing else to gnaw upon...”
Varadan turned off the tv using the remote and locked his office door behind him.
He was at home. He had called it off at lunch that day.
The testimony of the neighbors of the deceased, his mother, his brother and his close friend- Anand had been received and recorded in the FIR.
A head splitting head ache had forced him off duty now.
Being on the job, round the clock, is definitely a prerequisite for a police officer. But surely your body is not going to accept that. Especially after being woken up early in the morning.
He stretched in an attempt to get rid of the fatigue. He slid into the welcoming arms of his recliner. He didn’t even bother to remove his shoes.
Within seconds he was in the sweet embrace of blissful sleep.
2 hours of uninterrupted sleep had passed. Suddenly, a peppy song rang out.
Varadan’s eyes flickered open automatically. He looked around for the source of the peppy song. He looked at his tv wondering if he had laid down on the remote.
The tv was off.
His stereo was off too.
So was his smart device.
By the time he understood that it was his phone’s ringtone, the call had stopped.
‘Who is it?’ He begrudgingly looked at the missed call. It was an unknown number.
He dismissed the thought to call back and dropped the phone back on the table.
He wobbled off to the dining table and wolfed down the sandwich he had bought home.
He redirected himself to the medicine cabinet, took a paracetamol and swallowed it not even bothering to go back for water.
A beeline to the bedroom found him snoring into the night.
Early the next morning, he got up bright and fresh.
‘Today, I i have to close the gas stove blast case.’, He reminded himself.
He found his phone exactly where he had left it. But he saw that there was another missed call from the same unknown number.
There was also a watsapp text from the number too...
A caller id search said the number belonged to Mithra Saravanan - the mother of the gas stove blast victim.
He opened the watsapp text to read the message. It read,
“Hi sir,
This is Mithra here.
Rangan’s mother.
I want to talk to you about his death.”
A few minutes later there had been another watsapp text.
“I have a feeling that this is not an accident.”
He was about to dismiss it as a regular suspicion that arises among family members of victims.
But, “I have to investigate all leads!” He sighed.
He dressed up and went off to work.
30 minutes later he was parking his car at the police station.
He punched himself in, 3 minutes early.
He took his seat in his room.
He was looking at the FIR and the report drafted before him.
10 minutes later, a lady officer hustled in.
“Late again.” He said not taking eyes off the draft. He was taking notes and making minor corrections.
“Schedule a meeting with the mother of Rangan.” He continued .
“The gas stove blast?” The lady questioned.
“Yes.” he replied not letting his eyes stray.
“But why?”
Varadan looked up from his papers, sighed and showed her the message from his mom.
The lady constable read it silently. “Oh! Wonder what sort of a revenge plot he is a part of.” She mused aloud and dismissed herself.
Varadan glanced at the watsapp texts again. He saved the number as Mitra saravanan and resumed his work.
It’s a simple case: a Gas stove blast. The victim is not used to being by himself. He has probably caused the tragedy by mishandling the stove. He could have kept it turned on unintentionally.
‘Why, how many times I have let the milk boil over and forget that the knob is still on!’, He mused.
’Well at least I was able to correct the mistake before it filled my house. I didn’t handle switches when the gas was on.*, He continued musing.
’Poor fellow. I wonder did he even realize what had happened? Maybe he was dead even before he realized it...*, He contemplated as he closed the file.
‘Just another follow up on the mother’s hunch and you will be done.’ He put the file to one side of the table.
He stretched and rang for tea. A constable came in.
“Sir!” He saluted
Something is up. Varadhan noted as he gave a curt nod.
“Sir, Kim has been found.” He said.
“Kim?”
“Yes.”
“The girl with the pigtails who’s been missing since 3 days?”
“Yes. That’s the one.”
Varadan took the missing girl file from the head constable.
His tea arrived.
He sipped as he opened it to her picture.
Her body had been recovered from the boating beach.
