Detective Rajam – Case 01
Location: Almora, Uttarakhand
Date: September 15, 1991
"Famed detective Rajam Tomar solves murder mystery"—the headline screamed across the front page of the morning paper.
Dinkar, cup in hand, grinned at his friend. "Rajam, you're something else! Nobody can beat you!"
Rajam smirked. "Nobody, huh? But what will you tell your father, Dinkar? Skipping out on Delhi to show up here?"
Dinkar shrugged, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "You know I never had the head for studies. That's why I snuck away."
"When did you sneak in—and how, without a word?" Rajam asked, eyebrow raised.
Dinkar chuckled. "And they call you a detective! I climbed in last night through your back window. You slept like a log."
"My brain doesn't work when I'm asleep," Rajam said, feigning annoyance.
Dinkar drew closer, his eyes pleading. "So now help me, buddy."
Without another word, Rajam handed Dinkar a steaming cup of chai.
"What kind of help?"
"Let me stay here for a few months. Please."
"And that will achieve… what, exactly?"
"Well, when admissions open in the new year, I'll figure something out—change tracks, maybe. I'm not cut out for engineering."
"You could've sorted all this back home."
"My dad would never let me quit. So until admissions start, I'm staying put. Please, brother."
Rajam broke into laughter. "Alright, you scoundrel. Fine by me."
Suddenly—trring, trring, trring—the doorbell's urgent peal echoed through the house.
Rajam called out, "Coming! Who's ringing the bell like it's a war?"
He swung open the door to find Sitaram—an elderly, short man in his mid-sixties, and the trusted steward of Rajam's family home. When Rajam traveled, Sitaram watched over the house.
Sitaram's eyes narrowed as they landed on Dinkar. "And who are you?"
"I'm Rajam's friend. And you?" Dinkar replied, puffing up.
"I'm Sitaram."
Dinkar waved him off. "Alright, alright. Go light the fireplace, will you? It's freezing."
Sitaram scowled. "I'm not your servant, boy!"
"What did you just say, you old stick bundle?" Dinkar shot back.
Rajam intervened, grabbing Dinkar's arm and steering him to the sofa. "Have either of you ever learned how to speak to your elders? Show some respect!"
Dinkar shouted, "Tell this grumpy geezer first!"
From the kitchen, Sitaram bellowed, "Grumpy? Your whole clan is grumpy!"
Dinkar made for Sitaram, but Rajam pushed him back, firm. "Enough! I want peace in this house. Or both of you are out!"
For a moment, silence descended. Only the soft clinking of Rajam sipping his tea filled the air.
Finally, Sitaram's voice rang out, more composed. "What should I prepare for breakfast?"
Dinkar piped up, "Make some poha, quickly."
Sitaram, ignoring Dinkar, turned to Rajam. "You tell me, son."
Rajam smiled. "Poha sounds good, Kaka."
Dinkar declared, "I'm Rajam's friend and now I live here. When Rajam's not around, I'm in charge—get that, Sitaram?"
Sitaram's voice came sharp from the kitchen, "Yes—when Rajam's not here. Not before!"
Dinkar chuckled under his breath. "Alright."
Later, as they relaxed with breakfast…
Dinkar asked, "So, do you have any cases at the moment?"
Rajam replied, "Wrapped up the last one just yesterday. For now, it's all quiet… But who knows when a letter or phone call comes, and off I go again."
Dinkar perked up, "Do you always work crime scenes alone?"
Rajam smiled. "Not always. My assistant rents a place next door."
"Oh!" Dinkar said, eyes bright. "I thought maybe you'd let me tag along."
"No problem. You can come on the next case."
Dinkar raised his hands in delight, "Oh, yes!"
Rajam teased, "By the way, did you take a tumble on your way in last night?"
Dinkar, startled, "How'd you know?"
Rajam nodded toward Dinkar's mud-stained pants. "The dirt tells its own story, Dinkar."
Dinkar grinned. "Rajam, you notice everything! One day, the world's going to know your name."
They both burst out laughing.
At that moment, a fair youngster with round spectacles and striking blue eyes entered. Rajam looked up.
"Come in, Allen! Meet my childhood friend—Dinkar. And this young man with blue eyes is less an assistant, more a partner—Allen Austin."
Dinkar smiled, "Hi, I'm Dinkar."
Allen replied politely, "Allen Austin. Glad to meet you."
Sitaram entered with a tray of tea, handing Allen a cup.
Rajam explained, "Allen joined me two months ago. Clever chap."
Suddenly, the phone shrilled.
Sitaram shuffled over to answer. "Hello?"
A woman's faint voice: "May I speak to Detective Rajam?"
Sitaram signaled to Rajam, "It's for you, son!"
Rajam strode forward, lifting the receiver. "Speaking. Detective Rajam Tomar."
A woman on the other end: "I need your help. There's a murder case. It needs solving."
"Your name?" Rajam asked.
"Neeta Agarwal. Let me give you my address…"
Rajam gestured to Allen, "Allen, write this down!"
Allen dug out a tiny diary and pen from his jacket.
Neeta gave details, "Kharkiya, Ramdas Nagar, House No. 5. It's about thirty kilometers from you."
Rajam replied, "I'll leave in half an hour and should be with you in forty to fifty minutes."
"Thank you…"
Rajam announced, "Next case is in Kharkiya, let me change."
In his room, Rajam donned black trousers, a black shirt, and a brown jacket. Six feet tall, dusky, with curly hair, his mature face set with resolve.
He emerged, tossing the car keys to Dinkar. "Today, our new guest's driving," he quipped.
Dinkar looked at Sitaram, "Take care of the house, Sitaram-ji."
Sitaram glared. Allen joked, "I don't think Sitaram likes you, Dinkar."
Dinkar laughed, "Yes, seems like it!"
Turning to Rajam, "By the way, what car do you have?"
"Corolla E-90 series," Rajam replied.
"Hmm… nice," Dinkar nodded.
As the three piled into the car, the house phone rang again. Sitaram rushed out, signaling Rajam.
Rajam stepped inside to answer. "Rajam, CSP Javed Mirza here."
"Yes, sir?"
"A murder case just came in. You'll need to take a look."
"Is it the Kharkiya case?" Rajam asked.
Javed, surprised, "How do you know?"
"The victim's family called earlier."
"Rajam, you're faster than the police!"
"Leaving now for the crime scene, sir."
"Good work, Detective Rajam."
Quickly, Rajam rejoined his team, and together, they set out—ready to unravel another mystery.
They arrived at the given address. The police were already on the scene. Wasting no time, Rajam moved toward the crime scene: a large, three-storey house with three entrances—a front door, a back, and a garden-side kitchen door.
The victim: Dhirendra Mishra, the eldest son. The household included his wife, only son, two younger brothers—Raghav (father to a toddler girl) and Raman (a college student)—and his mother; their father had passed away ten years ago.
SI Mukund met Rajam. "Sir, there are no external injuries—only marks on the neck. Looks like strangulation."
"And where was the body found?" Rajam asked.
"In the living room, sir," Mukund replied.
"Who discovered the body?"
"His wife, sir."
"Have you sent it for postmortem?"
"Yes, sir."
"How did the killer enter?"
"All doors and windows were locked."
"Who told you?"
"His mother. Every night, she locks up."
Rajam's eyes narrowed. "So, the murderer could be someone from inside?"
"Possibly, sir."
"Who manages the house?"
"Dhirendra and his brother—they run a family sweet shop in the town market."
"I got a call from a Neeta Agarwal with information. Where is she?"
"I'll call her, sir. She lives next door." Mukund soon brought Neeta.
"Yes, sir?"
"How did you learn of the murder?"
"This morning, during my walk, I heard crying from their house. I went to see what happened."
"Did it occur to you to call an ambulance before alerting the police?"
"I did call an ambulance first, sir. He was declared dead at the hospital. Hospital staff notified the police."
"Thank you, you may go."
Turning to Dinkar and Allen, Rajam directed, "Check the nearby shops for information."
He then asked Mukund, "What's Neeta's family situation?"
"She lives with her husband. They have no children."
"Hmm. Thank you. Show me the crime scene, Mukund."
Mukund led him through a messy garden toward the main door. "There's a four-wheeler and two bikes, sir."
Inside, Rajam scanned the hall. A single window offered a view outdoors—the body had been found nearby, but the window remained locked, making outside entry nearly impossible.
"Who was at home last night?" Rajam queried.
"The victim's son, his wife, Raghav's wife and little girl, their younger brother Raman, and the mother. Raghav traveled to Rameshwaram three days ago with friends."
Rajam nodded. "Everyone must be questioned…one at a time. Bring them to me."
"Yes, sir."
To Be Continue..............