Valley of Death Page 20

  But the most dramatic change in his personality had come by way of him getting his head trounced. Gone were the well cared for and styled hair and his bare skull showed, making him appear old, sinister, evil and mentally imbalanced, all at the same time. In addition, the madness and void that frequently appeared in his cunning and animal-like eyes had become a permanent fixture. His physical appearance was a testament to his seriously disturbed psychological condition and he was only a caricature of his earlier self. One could have been forgiven to assume that the imprisoned psycho bore only a fleeting resemblance to the handsome, successful half-German who was an icon of the glamour and entertainment industry and also a popular figure of the capital’s partycircuit. Oh, lowly mortal! Thou art alone in thou woes; ye shadow too leave ye in ye predicament.

  Rudolf twitched his eyes to get accustomed to the low light of the room and then saw Abhay; the look of recognition came in his eyes and he sat on a chair directly opposite to the visitor.

  “Remember me?” Abhay asked.

  “Of course Abhay, or should I say Mr. Payal? So what brings you here? Want to take revenge for the death of your wife and child? Or you have come toenjoy seeing me in such a condition?”

  “I have got news for you; Payal has survived and was out of the hospital in about a fortnight after you had cowardly attacked her.”

  Rudolf was more shocked than surprised to hear that and then broke into choicest of abuses and swore at Harry, his former chief of staff, who had been missing since the day he had been busted. And who had not informed him of the police trap at the house of private investigator Bhatnagar and apparently also the fact that Payal had survived his murderous assault. After he had exhausted his substantial vocabulary of swears, he turned to Abhay and said in a harsh voice, “Is that why you have come? To boast victory?”

  “No, I have come to ask you, why you did all that to me? We have never been enemies, nor have I done anything against you, to the best of my knowledge.”

  “I was after your wife Payal; you were simply an unfortunate one to have been associated with her. You understand, I hope that it was nothing personal,” Rudolf said in a somewhat calm voice.

  “You…You Bastard! You nearly killed Payal and destroyed my family! And you say that it was nothing personal!”

  “No Abhay I did not, you did; your suspicion of your wife that is. I merely used your untrusting and suspicious nature for my own ends. Payal was a virtuous and faithful woman; but your sick mind filled with suspicion and distrust was ready to believe anything, which you were told. You bought all my lies and crap – lock, stock, and barrel. You stupid man, don’t you still get it? The unfaithfulness of a woman is not subjected to her particular caste, class or region. Why do you blame me Abhay, if you do not have the intelligence to perceive that being born in Bengal does not make a woman less virtuous or more, neither more good nor more evil. Virtuous and corrupt individuals exist everywhere, they are not restricted to one particular religion, race or region of the earth.”

  “You used me…” Abhay tried saying.

  “As long as a man like you would keep their minds open to suspicion; a person like me would always use it for his own ends. You forgot Abhay that a marriage, or for that matter any emotional relationship is based on trust. And if the trust is gone, then the marriage or a similar relationship between two persons is as good as dead,” said Rudolf calmly and philosophically.

  “You were the one, who poisoned my mind and destroyed my relationship,” Abhay argued.

  “Don’t blame me for your actions Abhay. As far as the destruction of your marriage is concerned, it ended the very day you started to look at your wife with suspicion and distrust. The rest was merely an epilogue; your suspicion and distrust made it a foregone conclusion, the eventual outcome of your relationship with Payal. How pitiful a marriage is Abhay when a husband’s trust in his wife depends upon the words and statements of a third person. A man loses his right to remain married to his wife – both morally and ethically – the very day he asks a third person to certify the virtuousness or corruptness of his wife. What a pitiable and gullible these married people are!” Rudolf said confidently.

  Abhay fell silent, finding no argument to counter Rudolf. Despite being thoroughly corrupt, evil and sitting in a jail, what Rudolf was saying made perfect sense and Abhay felt ashamed for his deeds. To use an analogy, Rudolf may have provided the gunpowder but he had fired the canon; Rudolf may have given the sword, but he had used it with his own hands. Finally, Abhay said, “I regret my actions of the past, but my single biggest blunder was to trust a poisonous snake like you!”

  “You could not have helped it, I am much too cunning for you,” Rudolf frankly admitted, with a touch of pride in his voice. “Payal was a match for me, to an extent; but you, never had a chance in hell against me,” he smiled cynically.

  “You still have not changed, have you? Don’t you even fear the future? Don’t you regret your sinful deeds, even now?” Surprised at his actions, Abhay asked him.

  “What do you know about Evil, our clan, fraternity or the dark powers which back us? And I…I am an intrinsically evil man, I will go down in history as the most evil and cruelman that ever lived, you, Payal or that Colonel Narang of yours, all of you are like worms before me,” Rudolf boasted.

  “Payal was right, you are an incurable megalomaniac, and ever unrepentant at that.”

  “Go away you fool…before I turn you to ash,” Rudolf said raising his voice. “Powerful supernatural forces back me up and no one can defeat me. Once my powers are back I will teach you a lesson, I will destroy you all. I will also not spare Harry, that coward, that traitor and Bastard, I will find that fugitive and make him burn in the fires of hell.”

  Rudolf’s mad ranting continued even as he was taken away to his cell and Abhay walked out of the room. It was obvious from his behaviour that the man was losing his mental balance; of course, normal he never was: a rapist, a murderer and a megalomaniac who had led a double life. But now he appeared to have lost his grip on life and its reality and regressed into a make-believe world. Time seemed to have completely stopped/frozen for him, he was mentally trapped in a time or world, where he was still the King, all-powerful and unchallenged. If his madness was not an act of a clever drama to escape punishment; then Rudolf was clearly heading for a lunatic asylum.

  His conversation with the imprisoned accused however settled the issue of who amongst Rudolf and Payal had been telling the truth. The admission by the former of his cunning and diabolic scheme had brought curtains down on the debate that had been raging in Abhay’s mind ever since the day he had his first doubts on the fidelity of his wife. Though some issues, like the mysterious man he saw near Payal’s room in the nursing home and the blank phone calls that came to their house, were still unsettled, overall, it appeared that Payal had not been unfaithful to him.

  It was a hot and humid night in the second week of April; Inspector Uday Thakur was sitting on the front seat of a Police Qualis which was moving in Mehrauli. He was coming with his team from Gurgaon, after an unsuccessful attempt to nab the prime-suspect in the murder of a restaurant and banquet hall owner in Model Town. After hours of waiting at the outskirts of the criminal’s native village, ten kilometres from Gurgaon city, they had to call off the vigil; either their informer had been incorrect or the man had somehow got wind of the Police trap.

  They had taken a detour from the Mehrauli-Gurgaon road on their return, to drop a constable at a farmhouse in Mehrauli, where his brother worked as a security officer. Inspector Thakur had agreed to it since it wouldn’t have been possible for the constable to get any conveyance at that late hour from the main road. As the sports utility vehicle reached near Rudolf’s estate, Uday saw in its powerful headlights that a woman was beating a child that was crying loudly. In the few seconds, before his jeep went past her, he saw that she was dressed in dirty clothes and was holding one child with her arm, while two other stood before her.

 
“Stop!” He ordered all of a sudden.

  By the time the driver was able to apply the brakes and the speeding S.U.V. came to a halt, they had travelled many yards. When the vehicle was reversed and they reached backed the spot, the woman and her children had vanished. Through the corner of his eye, Inspector Thakur caught a fleeting glimpse of the woman behind the iron gate of Rudolf’s estate. “Something fishy is going on here,” he said with his brow furrowed and after a brief pause ordered, “take the Jeep inside.”

  One of the constables got down from the Qualis and approached the gate. “Sa’ab, there is a chain and lock here,” he replied on inspection.

  “Strange; how did that woman get inside with her children then?” Uday wondered.

  “She must have climbed the fence next to the gate,” suggested the constable sitting on the rear seat.

  “The fence is at least seven feet high; how could she have climbed that with her children? And that too in the space of the few seconds that it took us to bring back our jeep here?”

  “Sa’ab it looks like Pret-leela (ghostly acts) to me,” said the driver sitting next to him in a low voice.

  “Don’t talk nonsense,” Inspector Thakur rebuked him. “There is no such thing as a ghost.”

  “Why to bother about it Sa’ab; let's go our own way,” suggested the constable sitting on the rear side, his peers wholeheartedly agreed with him.

  “No, I’ll get to the bottom of this. Who is that woman? What is she doing in Rudolf’s estate that has been lying vacant since his arrest? How was she able to get inside so quickly, when the gate was locked? A criminal gang could have made this place their den and who knows what illegal activities they maybe engaged in here? We cannot leave without conducting at least preliminary investigation,” Inspector Thakur said in a definitive voice.

  “Should I alert Police control room for and ask for back up?” Asked the wireless operator sitting on the rear side.

  “Maybe later, if we feel the need to do so.”

  “How will we go inside sa’ab? The gate is locked and we don’t have the key. It is already quarter to one, and we won’t be able to find any locksmith,” reasoned the constable who was standing outside the jeep.

  “We can come back tomorrow; with a locksmith and a search-warrant,” suggested another constable.

  “No; we can’t leave this for tomorrow,” Uday said, remembering how all evidence had disappeared from the estate on the previous time that he had left a task unfinished for the coming day.

  “We can shoot and break open the lock; can’t we? Asked the wireless operator.

  “No; the gun-shot will alert all those who are inside and they will be able to make good their escape. And if someone alerts the control room and patrol units come here to investigate, the report will reach the area Assistant Commissioner of Police. It will create a needless hassle and he will demand an explanation from us; if we fail to find anything or anyone inside to justify our drastic action. It is wiser for us to climb the fence, go inside and see what if anything is going on and then take appropriate action. The driver and wireless operator shall remain behind; we’ll contact them on our mobile and ask for back up if need be. Take flashlights and come with me,” he said and got down from the S.U.V.

  Inwardly cursing the obstinacy and eccentricity of their officer, the three constables picked up torches and armed with pistols and a light machine gun followed him. Unlike Uday, who was agile despite his heavy body, the fat belly constables had difficulty climbing the fence and were heaving when they jumped on the other side. They had to run to catch up with the Inspector who was walking with brisk steps on the road that led from the gate to the farmhouse inside the estate. He had taken a flashlight from one of his subordinates, and it threw a powerful beam of blue light in front of them.

  As the farmhouse by the lake, which was nearly half a kilometre from the gate, came into sight, the constable behind him said hesitatingly, “Sa’ab; if you don’t get angry, may I say something?”

  “What is it?” Uday asked as he continued to walk.

  “My brother lives in this area, as you know; he has told me that the whole Mehrauli is abuzz with rumours that this estate is haunted. Ever since that Schönherr was arrested and sent to jail, no one is living here. Despite that, a passerby has heard noises and seen strange lights here; they claim that prat-Leela goes on here in the night because the owner of this place was a tantrik and did strange and evil things here.”

  “What else can you expect from illiterate or superstitious people,” Inspector Thakur said, dismissing his remarks off the hand.

  The once beautiful farmhouse by the lake was only a shadow of its earlier self; only a few months of neglect had turned it into a ghosthouse. When Uday opened the door, a flock of bats – hanging upside down from the ceiling of their new found home – nosily flew out of the door. All four men had to hurriedly fall flat on the floor to escape the sharp nails of the bats, which made an unsuccessful attempt to attack the intruders, flying inches above their heads. Getting up, Inspector Thakur switched on the buttons but there was no power; the electricity had probably been cut off for non-payment of dues for months. The glasses of windows were broken and a thick layer of dust covered everything; cob-webs hung at many places and stink emanated from toilets and kitchen. But quite surprisingly, valuables like the television, Compact disc player etc. lay intact. Were the thieves unaware of that unlocked and abandoned place; or were they also too scared to enter the estate, which had gained notoriety because of being haunted.

  Finding nothing worthwhile, Uday came out of the house with his constables. A distinct and strong smell made his open his nostrils fully; it was as if someone was roasting onion pieces mixed with spices and mutton was being cooked nearby. But who would come in that wilderness and make food at that late hour? Unless his earlier suspicion of someone living there had been correct.

  “Sa’ab! Sa’ab! Shouted a constable. “In that cluster of trees beyond the lake; I saw that woman with children, who we had seen outside, she is in there.”

  “Let’s go,” said Uday in a voice of excitement and rushed towards the cluster of trees.

  The two constables looked at their companion with a complaining glance and half-heartedly followed their Inspector. They all reached that cluster of trees in no time and noise of the crying child aided them in finding that woman, who was hiding in the trees. She was brought in the open place beside the lake and Uday confronted her. “Who are you? What are you doing here? Who are these children and why are you beating them?” He asked in a scolding manner.

  In the light of the torch, he saw before him a beggar-woman and her children.

  “Hey! Speak up,” scolded one of the constables. “Don’t you know; this is the big Sa’ab of Police. If you don’t answer his questions, you’ll be put in the lock-up.”

  “My name is Mumtaz, Sa’ab,” she said, “I am a beggar, and these are my children. Yeh haramzada (this bastard) was irritating me by saying that he didn’t want to stay here, this no good lousy dog,” she said hitting the back of the boy mercilessly with her right fist, prompting the boy to cry all over again.

  “Watch your dirty tongue, you beggar,” the constable chided her.

  “Why are you roaming here, in this estate?” Asked Inspector Thakur.

  “We live here, this is our home, Sa’ab,” she replied.

  “How come? This estate belongs to Rudolf Schönherr; you can’t live here in this manner.”

  “She is a vagabond Sa’ab,” reasoned the constable standing next to the Inspector, “when she saw that this place was vacant, she must have taken advantage of it and started living here.” Turning to her, he asked, “Hey you! Since when you have been living here; speak you, dirty bitch!” He scolded her beating the ground with his laathi (wooden stick).

  “No Sa’ab; don’t beat us; we have been living here for many months, believe me, Sa’ab!” She spoke earnestly.

  “Didn’t Rudolf spot you? How did he let you live
in his estate?” Inspector Thakur was perplexed.

  “Who’s he Sa’ab?” She asked back in a confused voice. This place belongs to a Goura (Caucasian) Sa’ab; he came here frequently earlier, but now he does not come here.”

  Uday again smelled the onion pieces and spices being roasted along with mutton somewhere nearby. He realized that the beggar-woman was referring to Rudolf – who was blonde, had blue eyes and was of European descent. “You are lying,” he said ostensibly, “I have come here many times if you have been living here with your children for more than two years, why didn’t I see you earlier?”

  “We come here in the night, Sa’ab,” she replied. “Previously we were afraid of the Goura Sa’ab, so we kept away from his bungalow (farmhouse). You can ask others; they know that we live here like them.”

  “You mean that other people are also living here?” Uday asked sharply. “They must the people that are cooking food then; take us to them. But I warn you, don’t dare to alert us in any way about us; now get moving,” he said in an impatient manner.

  The beggar-woman led the Inspector and his constables to the ‘other people’, which cohabited that place with her and children. They had to walk a considerable distance from the farmhouse by the lake to reach there. Uday could hear the sound of beating drums, which continued to grow louder as they reached closer; the smell of cooking also became stronger, telling them that they were on the right track. But nothing could have prepared them for the most unbelievable sight of their lives that awaited them.

  They were led to a place in the estate away from the Circus, stable and Gypsy ruins. Near a thicket of trees was kept a large rock, which was lit up, as if it were transparent and had a source of light inside it. Its surroundings were lit by that light; invisible drums were beating as people danced around their rock. And the body of a girl hanging from a tree nearby was clapping in unison with the beat. Among those dancing were mad-man Bittoo, a fat girl wearing ghagra-choli with blood on her forehead, a small boy holding a piece of cake, a grumpy old woman, a labourer’s baby, and a few other such people. Many of them were headless or had severed limbs, their head – chopped from the neck – would sometimes fall off, and their headless torso would dance, until someone put it back on, or it was able to find and return to the body it belonged to. Likewise, some limbs of unknown bodies were also participating in that gothic dance of the dead.