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DIGVIJAY
Tasha went pale and swayed in place. I put a hand out to steady her, but she pushed it away and stood up straight.
“Say that again,” she ordered.
“Vishal was killed.”
“I thought he hanged himself.”
“His death was due to hanging, but he didn’t hang himself. The medical officer said that there were enough drugs in his system to bring down a horse. Someone drugged him, and then strung him up alive.”
“But… why?”
“To make it look like suicide. There are some very clear differences between hanging to death and hanging a body after death, and usually, if there are clear signs of antemortem hanging, the police surgeon will sign it off as suicide without doing a detailed PM. They are overworked and understaffed. So it takes a lot of nagging to get them to do a thorough PM in such cases. Inspector Sawant is apparently a skilled nag. Whoever did this counted on the slapdash PM report.”
“They must be very clever. And very strong to hang a living human being by the ceiling fan.”
“Not necessarily. Vishal wasn’t a very big man. He was short and skinny. Plus, he was completely knocked out because there aren’t any signs of struggle. The killer drugged him first, waited until he was unconscious and then, hanged him. Also, the drug was administered orally. Which means…”
“It means that he gave Vishal something to eat or drink…” she broke in.
“Yes,” I agreed. “He gave the poor chap alcohol laced with barbiturates. Made him a drink, sat down with him until he passed out, and then, strung him up to die.”
Tasha suddenly looked very frightened.
“When did he die? What was the exact time of death?”
“Between two and five in the morning.”
She whirled around and made for the stairs. I followed her closely.
“Sia!” she called.
“Tasha, stop!”
“No, DV! Sia heard him talking to someone the night he died. Her mother thought it was just a dream. But what if he was talking to his killer?”
I pushed past her and ran up the stairs, because if what she said was true, there was a potential witness to the murder of Vishal Agarwal, and she was a small child.
“What floor?”
“She lives in the flat next to his.”
The corridor was empty, but Tasha peered over the bannister, and there she was. I heaved a sigh of relief. She was fine.
I didn’t know who the killer was. It could be someone living in the building. Someone she knew. We had to get this child into protective custody.
“Where are her parents?” I asked.
“Her mother is at work, and father is sleeping off last night’s liquor,” said Tasha, with contempt.
I pulled out my phone and made a call. It was the only call I could have made under the circumstances.
“Inspector Sawant? Digvijay Singh here.”
I didn’t take my eyes off that little girl while I told Inspector Sawant what she had told Tasha. I didn’t want her to start a new game of hide-and-seek because there was a chance that we wouldn’t be the only people seeking her.
“Yes, I’m aware of what the PM report says,” I admitted, cursing under my breath. “I do have my sources. And no, this is not a ploy to deflect attention from our activities. I can assure you we did not murder that man. But there is a little girl here who might have heard him talking to the murderer, and I want to know what you plan to do to keep her safe.”
