Fiction: The discovery of a skeleton from a house is followed by a high-profile murder-suicide case

“Tenants? For over twenty-five years?” Saralkar exclaimed.

“Yes, sir, the old couple added the upper storey about twenty-eight years ago and constructed two 2BHK apartments on top, one each for their two children,” Motkar explained. “Mrs Das told me that it was decided to rent both apartments so that it would generate rent as well as provide company for the parents, who were getting on in age.”

“Because the children were not living in Pune?”

“Yes, sir. The idea was that in case the son and family decided to shift back to India or Mrs Das’s husband ever took a job in Pune and decided to settle here, the accommodations were ready. But while they were away, the apartments could be rented out.”

“Hmm,” Saralkar said. It was thinking quite typical of that generation of well-off, upper-middle–class Indians. “You know what that means, Motkar?”

“Yes, sir. That if it is indeed foul play, then we’ll have to trace all the tenants who’d stayed here over the years too,” Motkar replied. He knew it would be a time-consuming and monumental task.

“Unless, of course, the skeleton turns out to be of some prehistoric ancestor of mankind,” Saralkar said dryly.

“Quite unlikely, isn’t it, sir?”

“What’s the harm in hoping, Motkar! Anyway, I had asked Ahir to check who the owners of the bungalow next door are. Turns out, the house belongs to some rich Mumbai family who visit three to four times a year. They’ve got a part-time caretaker who is supposed to get the place aired and cleaned, and to water the lawns and flower beds once a week. Just get someone to dig up more details.”

“And what about the tenants, sir? Should I ask Mrs Das if they have any rental agreement records or something?” Motkar asked, adjusting his goggles. He wondered if Saralkar would freak out if he removed the goggles.

“No, let’s get after that once we have confirmation on the skeleton,” Saralkar said. “Instead, ask Mrs Das if she can put us in touch with some of the people who worked at the bungalow in her parents’ lifetime, particularly old-timers such as maids, cooks, drivers and gardeners.”

“From thirty-five to forty years ago, sir?” Motkar said, sceptically.

“Well, if this does turn into a murder investigation, we have to find people who had access to the bungalow on a regular basis. Say even when the old couple were not in town or had gone visiting one of their children. Or somebody who might remember if something unusual had occurred many years ago. Anything that can give us a hint of where to begin.”

PSI Motkar made a note. He looked at his watch. “I have to call Sunit Welde in about an hour’s time, sir. I have already sent a WhatsApp message intimating him. Would you like to join the call?”

“No, you talk to him first,” Saralkar said. “By the way, what was the occupation of the father? Did you ask his daughter?”

“Yes, sir. Mr Shashank Welde retired from a senior position in a public sector petroleum company,” Motkar replied.

“I see. That’s probably why he managed to bag a plot in such a prime residential area in those times,” Saralkar remarked. “You should try interrogating suspects with goggles on, Motkar. Gives you a sinister air.”

Sir, you don’t have to rub it in. I know it looks silly, Motkar felt like saying. Instead, he gave a thin smile as he got up to leave, and said, “Will try it, sir …”

He was almost halfway out of the cabin door when Saralkar said, “Did you see the pit in which the skeleton was found? It was done by someone who knew how to dig one. It was trench-like, and the depth was also right.”

Motkar turned to look at his boss. “Sir, you mean it was done by someone who regularly did that type of work?”

“Correct. Also, I have been thinking. Just because the skeleton was found directly below the lawn platform, can we assume it was done to ensure that the spot was never again dug up by anyone, or that no one accidentally discovered the pit and thus the skeleton?” Saralkar reflected.

“Well, sir, that’s how it appears. The natural reaction is to do your best so that your crime is not discovered,” Motkar said.

“If you presume that the lawn platform was deliberately constructed on top of the pit, then it could only be the owners who could have committed the crime,” Saralkar observed. “Not tenants or anybody else, for no one but the owners could have got a platform installed on their property.”

Motkar nodded slowly. His boss’s logic was correct. “Yes, sir. But that would also eliminate both Mrs Das and Mr Welde. Because if either of them was involved, they wouldn’t have let the bungalow be redeveloped, knowing the skeleton would inevitably be unearthed.”

“Now you are thinking, Motkar! That would leave only the old couple as murder suspects. But what if the sitting platform being located over the pit is sheer coincidence? Then, we have to look at many more suspects, including the tenants. Worse, then it’s also possible the murder took place earlier, practically any time after the bungalow was built.”

Motkar gave a shudder. “Yes, sir. I wonder who the poor victim is. I mean how unfortunate can a person’s fate be – to have disappeared from the face of the earth, then get discovered in these circumstances so many years later, and yet probably remain unidentified.”

“Hmm, but you are not thinking of the poor murderer at all, Motkar!” Saralkar said with a cynical chuckle.

“Sir?”

“Think of what a nasty surprise they are in for, if they’re still alive! To have been lulled into believing that one has got away and then to suddenly find that one’s crime has been discovered.”

Excerpted with permission from 206 Bones: An Inspector Saralkar Mystery, Salil Desai, Westland.