43 | The Dead Don't Lie

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Word Count : 3060


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Audio Theme : The Time Traveler's Wife - Main Theme


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43 | The Dead Don't Lie








Death is when mortals transform into the dead.

Death is when four choices of life are reduced to two choices of demise.

Mortals like her generally have four options to choose from. The first one was the truth, the second in line was a lie, the third was silence, and lastly the deadliest of all, something that her husband practiced a lot, the art of manipulation.

The dead, on the other hand, don't possess the choice to lie or manipulate. Because, anyhow, they don't possess the choice to live too. Their corpses either remain silent or simply let out the truth.

The Dead... don't lie.

When she was around sixteen, one fine rainy day, she was made to choose.

Either she was to speak... and die.

Or,

Stay silent and remain alive.

So, like any other sane mortal, she chose the latter.

Not to stay alive, but for something else.

While scribbling random gibberish on a paper, she sensed the discussion going on in the room falling on her ear drums.

Her visual senses traversed through the whole room, eventually stopping on the Deputy Commissioner of Police settled on the chair right across her on the other side of the table.

"Dr. Rukhsaar Fathima was summoned here last night itself, as per your suggestion." The IG announced, his eyes focused on the DCP.

He received a nod in return. "Alright, sir."

"You should go home and rest, Daleep." The IG said, redirecting her gaze towards the man in a wheelchair on the other end of the table.

The ASI shrugged nonchalantly. "Not until I fry their damned asses, Saab ji!"

Patwardhan, Gaurav, Rukmini and Jishu chuckled.

Just then, the door unbolted, and in came Praapti. "Jai Hind, Saab Ji! Report from the coroner's office-Dr. Fathima is done with the autopsy."

Neeraj Sathe immediately turned his attention towards the masculine frames on his left side. "Raghav, Ramandeep-" He then glanced at Hinduja. "Hinduja. Look into this. I need a report by afternoon."

The three of them affirmed.

Roughly five minutes later, while the Inspector General left for his office, Raghav, Ramandeep, and Hinduja passed out of the central hall and walked towards the other end of the SIT headquarters, where the coroner's office was situated.

All three of them marched through the long and classified passageway, eventually ceasing the movements of their limbs in front of a smooth and seamless white gliding door.

Raghav Katoch raised his right hand up and knocked twice on the door.

Immediately, the door opened to reveal a young woman covered entirely in a light blue disposable, waterproof gown. Her hands were sheathed in a pair of surgical gloves, while her head was covered under a carefully tucked-in face shield.

She let out an awkward laugh. "Good morning. I am trainee Saya Sahadev. I am here to assist Fathima ma'am."

Raghav quirked a brow up. "Is she inside?" He asked.

"Yes, sir. She is waiting for you all." The trainee forensic doctor answered, tucking her frame to the other side to let them in. "All three of you need to sterilize yourself first, wear the surgical gowns, gloves and shoe covers, and then enter the main autopsy hall, which is inside." She further explained in a practiced tone.

Aware of the regularly practiced procedure at the coroner's office, Raghav and Ramandeep moved inside. Meanwhile, Hinduja followed behind.



***



Dr. Rukhsaar Fathima looked on as three people garbed in surgical gear just like herself entered the autopsy room. Her assistant was standing behind her.

"Rao." She passed a lively smile with a faint nod.

"Fathima." Hinduja reciprocated.

The coroner then turned to look at the male figures in front of her. "Good morning, sir."

"Good morning."

"Please come with me." Saying so, she volt faced and strode to the steel embalming table stationed in the middle of the room, the contours of a body tucked under a white sheet positioned on top of it. The sterilized unpigmented suite with steel equipment was illuminated by the surgical LED lights mounted right on top of the corpse.

The coroner tugged the white sheet off the corpse. It appeared stiff, a visible sign of rigor mortis.

Hinduja stared at the lifeless and pale ashen face-a clear image of palor mortis, now much more distinctly visible than last night.

The evil hide in the dark, they said, but perhaps the world should have a new book of rules, for the evil hide in all shades, including pale white.

"Male." Rukhsaar Fathima began. "Age, on an estimation, between 25 and 30. Height: 181 centimeters. Weight-75 kilograms"

"Cause of death is poisoning, right?" Ramandeep proposed.

Rukhsaar nodded. "Yes." Pointing at the body, she continued. "Cyanide." She paused, glancing at Hinduja. "In fact, sodium cyanide." The toxicology reports say so. Keeping aside the bullet wounds on his legs."

Raghav hummed. "That pillbox ring, did you examine it?"

"Yeah." She replied. "It had traces of sodium cyanide."

"That explains it then. He consumed it from the ring." Ramandeep pointed out.

Hinduja clinched her brows together. "I don't feel so."

"Why?" Ramandeep asked.

Meanwhile, Rukhsaar simpered. "Poison deaths aren't exactly how they show it on the sci-fi stuff on television, sir, because what we see on the television is more or less an exaggerated version of how things actually work."

"What do you mean?"

"Let me explain." She glanced at Hinduja. "Rao, tell me something. Did he bring his fingers towards his mouth right in front of you? Specifically, his ring finger?"

Hinduja nodded. "He did."

"Approximately, what was the time gap between him bringing the finger near to his mouth and his death?"

"Roughly 10 seconds." Hinduja shrugged.

Rukhsaar gently clapped her gloved hands for once. "Which... is practically not at all possible!"

"She is right." Raghav remarked.

Rukhsaar promptly walked towards the other end of the hall. Pointing at her laptop screen, which was kept on one of the stainless steel tables, she said, "Cyanide as a poison exists in multiple forms. For example, as a gas, it is present in the form of hydrogen cyanide, which is a volatile, colorless, or pale blue liquid at room temperature that turns into a colorless gas at higher temperatures." She paused, glancing back at them. The trainee, on the other hand, was busy on her phone, scrolling through the latest features of Snapchat.

Rukhsaar sighed. "Saya honey..." She called out in a honeyed tone.

Saya Sahadev jumped back to attention. "Yes ma'am?"

"Are you paying fees to your college for scrolling through Snapchat?"

The trainee looked like a deer caught in headlights. "No ma'am."

"Then pay attention here. Do what you are here for."

"Yes, ma'am," Saya gulped.

Ramandeep chuckled.

Rukhsaar turned her attention back to the rest three. "Coming back to the point of discussion, as a salt, cyanide is present in the form of potassium cyanide and sodium cyanide. Both are white powders that may have a bitter almond-like odor. Even hydrogen cyanide does, but then most people can't exactly smell it. And finally, we have cyanogens and edible items. Some of the cyanogen compounds include cyanogen chloride, cyanogen bromide, nitriles, and nitroprusside sodium. Apple seeds, apricot seeds, and cassava root, among others, contain cyanide as well."

"And out of all of these, hydrogen cyanide has the fastest and most toxic course of action because salts like sodium cyanide and potassium cyanide can be detoxified in the liver, but hydrogen cyanide, meanwhile, cannot be detoxified since it's mostly inhaled or exposed to skin." She put a halt on her speech. "Now you may ask, why am I dumping so much information on you? Well, the answer to that is, after inhaling hydrogen cyanide, symptoms begin within seconds to minutes, but death only occurs after a few minutes, depending on the concentration. When it comes to skin exposure, on the other hand, the onset of symptoms may be immediate or delayed for 30 to 60 minutes. And this is me talking about the fastest form of cyanide."

Raghav and Ramandeep nodded, already mapping out the whole point of the coroner's explanation.

Hinduja remained still, her eyes still fixed on the corpse.

"Now when it comes to sodium cyanide, symptoms show up within a few seconds to minutes as well, and death occurs in a time period ranging from around thirty minutes to almost two to six hours at a stretch---again, depending on the concentration." She tilted her head with a smirk. "And this guy died in ten seconds? What rubbish!"

"He took the dosage much before we came across that vehicle." Hinduja whispered, looking a little zoned out.

Rukhsaar nodded. "He did." She then picked up the ring kept on the evidence tray next to her laptop. "The lethal oral dose of sodium cyanide for humans is between 0.5 and 3.5 mg per kilogram of body weight. Morever, this pillbox ring's container can contain a maximum of 1 mg of the salt, which is definitely not enough to cause someone's death within ten seconds."

"No wonder; he didn't appear bothered at all when Hinduja caught hold of him. He stood still outside that vehicle without any reaction other than the fact one of them shot Daleep Ji twice." Raghav pointed out.

"It was all planned? They knew one of them was going to get caught last night." Ramandeep added.

Rukhsaar shrugged while Saya looked on clueless.

Hinduja chuckled. "The fog is slowly shedding. They are getting prepared, just like us."

"Did you find any finger prints on those lilies, by the way?" Raghav propped.

"Believe me, the forensic department couldn't find even a single thumb or finger print on those flowers."

"Alright, we will talk to Dr. Chadha and his team later." Raghav exhaled in irritation. "Anything else from your side?"

"Oh yeah," Rukhsaar snapped her fingers while walking back towards the body. "Something interesting." Announcing so, she slowly picked his left hand, directing her own index finger at his ring finger. "This is the finger around which he had that ring, right?" She questioned.

"Yes." Hinduja replied.

"This is broken." Tracing her fore digit across his finger, which was slightly slanting and deformed in appearance, she said. "Look at the malalignment of the joints; this is called a malunion. It happens when a fractured or broken phalanx bone is left untreated." She stationed his pale hand back at its initial locus. "Lastly, there is a tattoo on his chest." She pulled the white sheet further to reveal an inked pattern on his chest.

Instricate arches woven together to form what looked like two inverted English albhabets.

"JB?" Raghav traced his digits across the tattoo.


 

***



Are you busy now?

- M. Dogra


What happened?

- You


Its raining shit here!

- M. Dogra


She stared at his text in confusion.


Can you please be clear? What has happened?

-You


Potty Alert!

-M. Dogra


A world full of idiots, and she married this one!?


What?!

-You


Geeta just informed me that that brat has been shitting loose nonstop since this afternoon.

-M. Dogra


I am reaching home in fifteen minutes. Will you call Dr. Pradhan, or should I?

-You


Already did. I am going home.

-M. Dogra


Alright.

-You



***



Gently picking the toddler's tubby body in her arms, she rocked him to sleep. His stomach rumbled again.

Mahadevan hadn't reached home yet.

Dr. Mohnish Pradhan got up from the chair he was settled on and started packing all his goods into his bag.

"Legumes. As per what you said, he farts a lot when he consumes legumes. I think the diarrhea is because of that because he had legumes last night, but it could be simple indigestion as well. No bacterial infection though." He paused, passing her an assuring smile. "For now, I have prescribed some medicines and the dozes. Follow up with them." He passed on the prescription to her. "But it's better you get a few tests done. If you permit, I'll send my staff here tomorrow itself with all the equipment, ma'am."

"Alright. I will talk with my husband regarding this." She nodded.

With one last bow, he caressed the kid's soft black curls for the last time and turned around to move out of the bedroom. Geeta followed behind him to escort him out.

Roughly some five minutes later, Mahadevan hurried to their bedroom while Geeta left for her place.

"Dr. Pradhan left already? What did he say?" He asked while settling beside her.

She slowly placed Anirudh in his sturdy and herculean arms as he engulfed the toddler in a warm hug. Their eyes clashed, exchanging a similarly fragile and delicate feeling.

"He said that it was either indigestion or legume intolerance." She handed over the prescription to him. "These are the medicines he has prescribed for now, but we need to get a few tests done. Moreover, he said, if there is no problem, he will send his staff here with the equipment tomorrow. What do you say?"

"Sounds good." He nodded thoughtfully. "I'll take a leave tomorrow. You go to the office. I will manage here."

"No," she objected. "I'll stay back."

The toddler moaned while sleepily rubbing his tommy.

He faintly chuckled. "I understand that you are worried, but you staying here tomorrow means more people knowing about our marriage, and that's something we need to avoid for now, isn't it?"

She sighed. Her shoulders drooped as she ducked her head down to look at her child.

"Don't worry. I will handle this brat well." He reassured.

Later in the evening, her phone beeped with continuous messages from the SIT team. The abductions were taking place without any break, in a series. Her mind, on the other hand, felt blank.

Peeling the carrots one by one, she diced them into bite-sized pieces while the other veggies rested leisurely on a ceramic plate.

"What are you cooking?" She heard him ask.

"Khichdi."

He scrunched his face, remembering the taste of that abominable culinary calamity.

"He is unwell. Khichdi is the best thing he can have now."

He nodded.

Tilting his waist against the kitchen countertop, he stared at her face with a scrutinizing gaze. "What happened?"

"Nothing." She whispered.

He picked up a piece of carrot and popped it into his mouth. "Say that to someone else, not to me." He chewed on the carrot.

Placing the now diced vegetables on the other side of the countertop, she washed her hands and started strolling out of the kitchen into the hall.

He followed her.

"By the way, your revolver is too old for any use. How about I get you a new one?" He quirked up his left eyebrow, a teasing smile lingering on his lips.

She chuckled, her slender frame crossing the threshold of their bedroom. "Tell me that I am married to a stalker without telling me that I am married to a stalker."

He laughed. She sat beside the toddler and stroked his cheeks. He was fast asleep.

Eventually, he cleared his throat. "Acha, now tell me, what happened?"

She remained silent.

"Worried about him?" He voiced out. Immediately, the movements of her fingers ceased.

"Ahh.. I knew." Saying so, he moved towards the closet.

She had her gaze fixed on his back. Brushing a kiss against Anirudh's glabella, she got up from the four-poster bed and proceeded to the closet.

Closing the closet door behind her, she fixated her visual senses on his back.

He was standing near the drawer, his frame still.

Uncertainty coated in a thick veil of quietude made an appearance.

She gulped. "How do you trust me so much with Anirudh?"

The very next moment she heard him letting out a faint chortle.

"Didn't it ever cross your mind that I might not be the right choice for him ... and for you?" Her fingers shivered. "That I might not be fit to be his mother and ... your wife?"

She watched him as he ducked his head down to scan the lines on his palms. "No. Never. " He whispered, only for her to hear. "Not even for a second." He paused. "Do you know why?"

"Why?" She breathed out.

"Because I trust my creator." He replied without any hesitance.

She looked on with a faint yet surprised curve of her lips. "I never knew you believed in the almighty so much."

"Who said I am talking about God?" He shot back.

With her brows scrunched together, she trained her Stygian swirls on him in confusion. "What do you mean then?" Her tone was laced with satin.

He slowly turned around while resting his left hand on one of the drawers.

"I was just an old and forgotten page," he gulped. "Ragged from the edges, torn from the sides, tainted in appearance. Left alone to dwell on my own, time and again." He paused, throwing a pensive smile at her.

"Then you came, providing me with an abundance of colors, a plethora of pages, and the most beautiful handwriting-slowly creating a whole book out of me, worthy enough of reading."

Taking a towel from the drawer, he scratched his neck. "Not for the world, not for anyone else. Only for you." His eyes met hers, brown against black. "And if that doesn't make you my creator, I don't know what else does."

Her breath hitched. She swallowed.

Meanwhile, he looked on, assessing her every single movement, his eyes lucid and warm. "That child inside there, on the bed-" He paused. "I agree that he isn't born from your womb. Rather, do you know what he is reborn from?" He asked.

She blinked her eyes.

"He is reborn from your will and choice to love him. He may not carry your blood, but he carries this-" He patted the left side of his chest and then directed his forefinger at her chest. "your heart." Twirling his tongue on his lips, he wet them. "He may not even remember the warmth of his biological mother's womb, but he knows the mellowness of your embrace and the softness of your lap." Mahadevan rubbed his hand across his flushed face. "You. are. his. mother," He asserted. "And don't you dare think otherwise."

She shivered even though a cocoon of soothing heat sheathed her whole frame.

The bathroom door bolted as he entered inside for a shower.















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