It
was in the month of January. The darkness cloaked the night in the
absence of the moon. The winter fog hovered freely, making it
difficult for even a person with perfect vision to pierce through.
The icy wind had already drawn the people towards the comfort of
their apartments and homes. Nikita was busy turning the pages of a
book that she struggled very hard to read. She felt very tired.
Yawning, she reached out to turn off the lamp. She lay on her
impeccably oval shaped bed to catch some sleep. After an hour, when
she was in the deepest of her sleep, a very soft push was made to the
door and a furtive figure entered the room. Tiptoeing carefully,
making sure not to make any noise, the figure dragged a pillow kept
on the other side of the bed. Nikita’s sleep was broken from the
disturbance by the intrusion. As she turned to have a look, the
figure placed the pillow on her mouth, strangulating her. Nikita’s
almond eyes grew wide as if they had seen a ghost. Gasping for
breath, she kicked her legs as high as she could in the air.
Help me, Help me! She
screamed in silence. Gasping for breath, sweating heavily, she
pleaded for mercy. The vision was getting hazy every single second
due to lack of oxygen. She could feel the numbness in her upper limbs
that began to spread. She watched in dazed fascination as the figure
pressed the pillow hard against her face, blocking every open passage
of air completely. Soon, the darkness of the night took over her
eyes, she no longer felt anything. The figure assembled everything
back in place in haste. It fumbled a rope in the large black leather
bag as it prepared its escape from the window at the backside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The
next morning came as a shock for the Arora's. The only daughter had
been brutally murdered in the darkness that took over the moonless
night. SSP Shamsher Singh, a person with medium height, but
ridiculously muscled had intentionally taken over the case himself.
He was popularly known as the Sherlock
Holmes
of the east by his fellow officers. He was a man with an attitude of
that of a sleuth, applying his skills in everything that raised any
form of suspicion. He had solved several murder mysteries,
complicated or simple efficiently and discreetly. With an eye of that
of an eagle, he was able to see what others felt of no worth. “There
is someone involved who is very close to the family.” He mumbled as
he picked the pillow with which she was strangulated. He neatly
placed the pillow in a large plastic bag. After all it was the murder
weapon,
the only piece of evidence that could help him to take on the
culprit. The extreme left corner of the room was occupied by Malini,
Nikita’s mother. She was devastated. She could see the reel of
images that were vivid and alive. She was in the kitchen, gossiping
with her, telling her that how important she was to her and her late
father. She stood there, numbed with grief. In the meanwhile,
Shamsher had cleared up the room with all the possible evidence he
could gather to catch hold the assassin. The thing that made an itch
in his mind was a medicine named Alprax, a tranquilizer that was kept
hideously in a drawer of Malini's room. Why
would she be taking Alprax? She seemed normal. Shamsher
also picked a prescription in the name of Malini Arora of doctor
Yogesh, a clinical psychologist and placed it secretly in the bag
along with a Silver
Bracelet that
he found near the window of Nikita’s room which seemed to belong to
the assassin. This story is published in the June issue of Storizen Magazine. Do read the full story here (page no. 60 - 62).
