Different Senses by Ann Somerville Page B

ago, they’d probably have been flowering.
This would have been an oasis of beauty among the dull fields and
stolid farms. One of the trees had fallen in the past, and while
the branches were probably taken away for use on the farms, part of
the trunk remained, forming a convenient seat. The ground near it
was trampled, the grass shorter than elsewhere, as if others had
thought the same. I sat and wondered if Sapna came here often.
Maybe to be alone, to think? Just because she loved her husband and
her family, didn’t mean she was happy, even before the baby
died.
    I looked up. Bedraggled ribbons
adorning the branches of a nearby tree, and tied around its girth.
White ribbons, for mourning. This was where she’d hanged
herself.
    I didn’t believe someone had
murdered this girl. Killing someone by forcing them to kill
themselves was a crime so rare it bordered on the mythical, and why
would a murderer choose a place with so much special meaning for
the victim? Sure, I could be wrong. Maybe a psychopath lived with
these people, and in a few months, another woman would die, but I
doubted it. Not in a community where everyone knew everyone else,
and a stranger caused every head to turn. Nikhil Kamlesh hadn’t
done it, and he was the only likely suspect.
    I stood and dusted my hands.
The sun was low in the sky, and I was hungry. Time to tell Sapna’s
parents there was no conspiracy, no crime. Just the sad loss of two
young lives. An ordinary tragedy they’d have to deal with,
somehow.
    The two sons had gone who knew
where, but otherwise the little sitting room was just as crowded
and sombre as when I’d left it. Shrimati Kartik offered me chai,
but unfortunately, no food. My stomach rumbled and I hoped supper
wouldn’t be long in coming.
    Jyoti sat near me, apparently
calm, but inwardly anxious. “What did you learn, Javen?”
    “ Have you explained to
your aunt and uncle that I’m matos ?”
    She nodded. “Yes. To them, this
is a good thing.”
    “Right. Well, I spoke to the
constable and the doctor who did the autopsy, and I also spoke to
Sapna’s husband. I went over everything carefully, and I talked to
him for some time. He didn’t kill your cousin. He is grieving and
angry, not guilty. He’s hiding nothing. Tell them that.”
    She did so, and provoked an
angry reaction from the aunt, and growled words from the father.
“They say you’re mistaken. Or that someone else killed her.”
    “No, I’m not mistaken, not
about him. And no one else killed her. Doctor Nihar showed me his
reports, and I looked at the autopsy images. There’s not a shred of
evidence she was killed by anything but her own hand.”
    “Could someone have forced her
to kill herself?”
    “In theory, yes. But they could
have forced her to write a note too, which would have left no
doubt. I don’t believe she was forced to kill herself. I’m sorry
this isn’t what they want to hear, but I can’t lie to them.”
    She gave me a wry look,
and passed on what I’d said. The parents stood and shouted at me,
and the father lifted a fist. No need for translation as to
what that meant. The man was stooped and frail and no threat to
anyone but himself, but I still beat a retreat, Jyoti behind me,
still talking to her angry relatives as I fled down the
stairs.
    I waited for her at the auto.
“Guess they don’t want me on the case any more.”
    “No, nor to stay with them. I’m
truly sorry, Javen. I believe you’ve been thorough. Except you said
you would speak to her co-workers?”
    “Yeah, I would have done,
tomorrow. The note’s still a puzzler, but it won’t change the
facts. It’s too late to drive back to Hegal now. Any hotels around
the place?”
    “Back on the main road. We
passed it, remember? About an hour from here.”
    “Fine. I’ll stay there tonight,
come by and pick you and your mother up tomorrow.”
    “But...you haven’t completed
your investigations.”
    “They fired me.”
    “But you work for me,” she