Monday, 29 September 2014

A Painted Gate - Part 10!



A PAINTED GATE

PRE-NOTE:

Kindly excuse correct the grammatical mistakes. Thanks in advance. :-)

PART 10:

“Srav…”
“Jason, am sorry. Please wait for some time before you have to meet Vimal. He is not in his right mood.”
Jason looked disappointed. “You care more about your brother obviously…”
“Come on, Jason. His anger is right. He has lost all his money and he never trusted you. How would you expect him to shake his hands with you within a minute? He needs time.”
“You conveniently forget to mention that he cares a lot about money than people.”
“You make him look like he is very selfish. Then why did he help me out in first place? He could’ve let me suffer in the jail. He does what he has to do.”
Jason raised his voice. “So he has to hate me because I am from a poor background?”
Sravya’s decibel increased to a new level as well. “Listen. Just tell him that you’d make it up for everything he lost. But you really don’t have to.”
Jason’s lips curved sarcastically. He opened an empty bag that he carried along with him and showed it to Sravya. “Oh yeah, I am gonna give him all this money that I stole from chit funds. Dream on it.”
Sravya smiled. “Come on, I just meant…”
Jason shrugged. “I know what you meant. I should give you 500 million and your brother 500 million. I actually owe it to you. I forgot.”
“Ah, forget him for a minute, will you? Think about me. I need…”
“500 million dollars? Yep, I am writing you a cheque straightaway.”
“Jason…” Sravya’s lips trembled.
He caught Sravya’s shoulders and turned her towards him. He said in a very low voice which was almost inaudible. “Srav, honey, I hate it when he says that I brought it on you. I’d just say that we both were unlucky to be in this hard situation. And I just wish that you’d stand up for me as much you stand up for him.”
“You’re more important to me, of course, Jason. I am going to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Thank you, darling. Let’s go out and join our friends, Srav.”
“Jason, am sorry again. Only you matter to me, nothing else and no one else.”
“Thanks,” Jason smiled finally.

Karthick found Vijay pausing the video thoughtfully, sitting on a bench behind their Beach House overlooking the ocean. “This video is both advantage and disadvantage. Jason was simply mocking about the money but Gowtham could manipulate it for his case. That’s why I didn’t show it to you earlier.” Vimal simply nodded and continued patrolling the walk before the bench with a ceaseless and inhuman energy. The night sky was smoky with heat.
“So there you are,” Karthick said cheerfully, dropping beside Vijay. “Vimal, you’ll wear your soles away. In this swelter, too! And I don’t mind telling you that every news hawk in the world is looking for you. Eve of the defense, and what not . . . . I suppose,” he said suddenly seeing the look on Vijay’s face, “I ought to shut up.”
There was a gaunt and indrawn look imprinted on the yellowed skin of Vimal’s face. His eyes were two sullen lights at the bottom of red-rimmed wells. All afternoon and evening he had been calling in experts, sending out investigators, rounding up witnesses, conferring with colleagues, making innumerable telephone calls. He should have been reeling with fatigue.
“You’re not doing yourself or Sravya any good, going on this way, Vimal,” said Vijay in a subdued voice.
Karthick nodded in agreement. “First thing you know you’ll wake up in a hospital, and then where will the poor thing be?”
Vimal’s legs continued to pump. Karthick sighed and crossed his legs. Vimal flung his hands up suddenly and waved them at the smoky sky. “If only she had told me!”
“What does she say?” murmured Vijay.
Vimal made a snorting, desperate sound. “Simplest explanation imaginable—so simple no one will believe it. Jason thought that she cared more about me getting the money back and they were fighting on their own. That’s why he must’ve suddenly made that cheque in the name of Sravya despite the fact that he was supposed to send it to his father’s account which will eventually be Karthick’s. Beautiful, eh?” He laughed shortly. “And the only witness who can corroborate her statement is dead!”
“Oh, come now, Vimal,” said Karthick in a light tone, “that does sound reasonable. And I am yet to testify. If you want me to…”
“You heard Vrunda on the stand. Sravya packed the medical kit and so she knew that the morphine was there. Can I disprove that? No! True, Vrunda would told the court that it was the usual contents, which implies that everyone knew it; but implication isn’t proof and, considering the source, it’s biased testimony. No one could’ve touched the food or the drinks. No one but Sravya, and you can’t expect a prejudiced judge to believe the unsupported word of a defendant.”
“Judge Bhaskaran is not prejudiced, Vimal,” said Vijay quickly.
“Good of you to lie. How the hell was I to know that? He’s sore at the world. Ah, nuts.” Vimal waved his arms. “It’s going to be a fight, all right. Karthick, can you cut a deal with Gowtham?”
“What?”
“Don’t come to the witness box. After all, Gowtham wants no fuss, right?”
“That can be easily arranged as my father isn’t very happy about me standing in the box.”
“Thanks.”
They were silent, finding nothing to say. After a while Vijay asked quietly, “You’re putting Sravya on the stand?”
“Heavens, man, she’s my only hope! I can’t dig up a witness to support her cheque theory nor one for the fingerprint business, so she’s got to testify herself. Maybe she’ll make a sympathetic witness.” He dropped onto a bench opposite them and ruffled his hair. “If she doesn’t, God help us both.”
“But, Vimal,” objected Vijay, “aren’t you being too pessimistic? I’ve pumped some of the legal talent floating around town, and they all think Gowtham’s got a poor case. It is circumstantial evidence, after all. There’s certainly enough reasonable doubt . . . “
Vimal said patiently: “Gowtham’s a crack prosecutor. And he has last whack at the Judge, don’t forget that—prosecutor sums up after the defense. Any experienced trial lawyer will tell you that he’ll concede half his case just to leave the last impression on the mind of the Judge. And then public opinion—” He scowled.
“Never mind the public opinion,” said Karthick and Vijay together.
“You to bring out discrepancies unaccounted for by the prosecution.—You’ll do that, of course, Vij?” Vimal asked suddenly.
“Don’t be a greater ass than you can help, Vimal,” Karthick said.
“There’s one angle you can be of service on, Vij. The questions.”
“Questions?” Vijay blinked a little. “What about them? How?”
Vimal jumped off the bench and began pacing again. “You had three questions about the case, right? Why would the murderer want to use the morphine and not just rat poison? You proved to us that the murderer’s motive is to frame Sravya.”
“That’s completely illogical,” said Vijay slowly.
Vimal halted. “What’s that? Illogical?” He seemed bewildered; his eyes had sunken even deeper into his head.
Vijay sighed. “Those aren’t facts. I simply have an explanation for what happened and what could’ve happened. Besides Gowtham won’t let me get that far. He would taunt me and…”
“Vij, please, you’re my only hope.”
“Okay, Vimal. For you,” said Vijay in a thoughtful voice.
***********
Gowtham was more than relieved when Karthick announced that Vimal wouldn’t call him as a witness. “I am fine with that,” he said casually. “It means that my witnesses are over. Is he calling Sravya next?”
“Yes,” nodded Karthick.
“That’s the worst decision. I’ll rip her apart,” said Gowtham, smiling.
Sravya, it is true, had made a poor witness. From the first, she was nervous, jumpy, scared. While Vimal led her through her testimony she was quiet enough, answering readily, even smiling faintly at times. Through his sympathetic questions she told of her life with the man she had known as Jason Antony, his kindness to her, their love, a detailed account of their meeting, courtship, relationship, daily life.
Gradually Vimal worked her around to the period just before the crime. She related how Priya and she had discussed having a party for New Year, how Indhu had promised that she’d take care of things, the day before his death, how she had bought the champagne bottle and she had wrapped it as a gift. She explained how she had no access to the morphine at that time. She said that just because no one else could’ve done it meant that she was the killer.
She was on the stand during direct examination for a day and a half which was the longest, and by the time Vimal had finished with her she had explained everything and denied all of the Court’s allegations. Vimal had showed the video to the court and explained that Sravya had no motive to kill Jason. After all they didn’t talk anything about betrayal as the prosecution counsel had pointed out.
Then Gowtham sprang to the attack. He assailed her story with consummate vicious-ness. The man was a human question-mark, with savage gestures and infinite variations in tonal insinuation. He sneered at her protestations of honesty. He derided her statement that she had never known or even suspected her lover’s embezzlement, pointing out that no Judge would believe that a woman could believe a man to that level especially the one who took care of his finance—without coming to learn everything there was to learn about him. His cross-examination was merciless; Vimal was continuously on his feet shouting objections.
At one point Gowtham snarled: “Ms. Sravya, you had an opportunity to make a statement—a hundred statements—long before today, did you not?”
“Yes . . . .”
“Why haven’t you told this story about how you two made up just before the dinner? Answer me!” He hit the rail on the witness box hard that made Sravya shiver.
“I—I—no one asked me.”
“But you knew that he was talking about 500 million dollars exactly, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t realize—”
“You do realize, though, don’t you, what a bad impression you are making by suddenly pulling this flimsy explanation out of your bag of tricks—after you know how dark things look for you and have had an opportunity to talk things over with your counsel?”
The whole question was stricken out at Vimal’s enraged objections, but the blow had told. The Judge was frowning. Sravya was wringing her hands.
“Wait a minute. You also say that Karthick asked you for Aspirin?” His eyebrows were knotted.
“Yes, that’s why I opened the kit…”
“That’s your excuse then.”
Vimal shouted at the top of his voice. “Let her answer before you jump into conclusions.”
“Did you give it to Karthick?”
“No, Jason took it…”
“How come this was not in anyone else’s testimony but only in yours?”
“I don’t… please, am sorry, I don’t know.”
“You have also testified,” snapped Gowtham, “that you know that the dog was allergic to prawns, haven’t you?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“But it was Indhu’s dog and she wasn’t aware of the allergic reaction?”
“She was… She must’ve forgotten… She must’ve…”
By the time Gowtham was through with her, despite all Vimal could do to have accusatory questions stricken out, Sravya was completely unstrung, weeping, at times flaring into anger, and constantly—through the traps of pure language Gowtham set—contradicting her own testimony. The man was very clever about it; his ferocity was all on the surface, a calculated emotion nicely adjusted to the instability of the witness. Beneath he was as cool and relentless as a machine.
It was necessary to recess until Sravya could recover from hysteria. Vimal smiled doggedly at the Judge and plunged ahead with the defense.
He summoned witness after witness—neighbors, friends, family —to corroborate Sravya’s claim of untroubled felicity with the dead man until the very eve of his death. All testified that there never had been a suspicion in their minds concerning Jason’s double life, that Sravya had never evinced the slightest sign of knowledge. Through all this Gowtham moved with calm and sure interference, quick to catch a weakness in testimony or a predisposition to bias.
He spoke about the morphine bottle that was sent to Gowtham and that did not have any fingerprints meant that someone else must have used it as no one could’ve worn gloves at a party. He mentioned that the champagne bottle was packed long back but the poison was mixed very recently. So it wasn’t her intention of revenge. Now Vimal put a succession of experts on the stand to bring out that very point—all attacked in business-like fashion by the prosecutor, either on the score of the expert’s unreliability, poor previous trial record, or outright bias.
Finally after a war that was worse than the war with guns and bombs, he put Vijay on the witness box.
“Mr. Vijay,” said Vimal after Vijay had sketched a little of his semiprofessional background, “you were on the scene of the crime before even the arrival of the police, were you not?”
“Yes.”
“You examined the scene of the crime thoroughly, out of a purely professional interest in the case?”
“Yes.”
“What struck unusual at first?”
“The morphine. It wasn’t necessary. Our kitchen had rat poison and Sravya was alone in the kitchen with the food. It was a very easy thing to do. First of all, how many of common people know that morphine could kill?”
“Exactly. In fact, as a witness, even I can say that her first reaction was a surprise moan. ‘What was morphine? Why would I use it?’ Such is her medical knowledge.”
Gowtham let out a wicked grin. “Do you have any medical knowledge, Vimal?”
“Yes, I have,” snapped Vimal.
“Are you confessing that… Oh sorry, go ahead…”
Vimal gave a furious look to him and turned away. “Vijay, what else was disturbing you?”
“I could not understand why a poison has to be mixed in both food and drinks.”
Gowtham leaped to his feet. “Your first question nullifies your second question, Vijay. She doesn’t have any medical knowledge – that’s why she didn’t know what she was doing.” Then he faced the judge. “This witness should be called off, my lord. Just because someone is a detective doesn’t mean that he can question the efficiency of our Police department.”
Vijay said sharply. “I didn’t do that.”
“Yes, he didn’t.” And for next five minutes he and Vimal argued before Judge Bhaskaran. Finally Vimal was permitted to proceed.
“Mr. Vijay, you are well-known as an investigator of crime. Have you anything to offer this court in explanation of the morphine bottle without fingerprints so carefully ignored by the prosecution?”
“Oh, yes.”
There was another argument, more protracted this time. Gowtham fumed. But Vijay was permitted to go on. He went through the reasoning he had outlined to Vimal a few nights before concerning the logical impossibility of Sravya carrying the morphine bottle along with her as she was searched thoroughly by the police.
“Is there anything you found on your examination which explains to your own satisfaction where the morphine bottle was hidden?”
“Indeed yes. It must be on one of the other persons who weren’t searched. This is a big miss from the police of course. This case shouldn’t be settled till there was a logical explanation for the bottle.”
There was another argument, more violent this time. After a bitter exchange it was settled by the Judge, who permitted the morphine bottle to be placed in evidence as a defense exhibit.
During cross-examination, Gowtham asked the same questions again and again to trick Vijay but he answered clearly every time. For an hour Vijay and Gowtham sparred across the rail of the witness box. It was Gowtham’s point that Vijay was a poor witness for two reasons: that he was a personal friend of the defendant, and that his reputation was based on “theory, not practice.” When Vijay was finally excused they were both dripping with perspiration. Nevertheless, it was conceded by the press that the defense had scored an important point.
**********
Rajeev clicked his tongue. “The situation that we did not want to face was faced. The public opinion says…”
“Crap. Talk to Sravya and don’t allow others to talk to her,” said Gowtham with a malicious grin.
Vaishali looked up. “That’s like your last weapon. Why do you use it now?”
“Just to stir things up a bit, Vaishu. So Rajeev, will you?”
Rajeev narrowed his eyebrows. “What to talk to her?”
“Tell her that you might release her and bring Vimal in.”
“Goddamn it, Gowtham. You’re so cunning,” chuckled Vaishali.
“And don’t forget to record the statement, sir,” he said. “Tell her that if she agrees to confess, the judge will only give her seven years.”
Rajeev nodded. “Okay.”

To be continued.
Comments and criticisms are welcome lavs_m26@yahoo.com
For previous parts, kindly check
Thanks & Regards,
Lavanyaa




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