A Will to Kill, стр. 53
‘At the end of the five years, each bequest will go to the concerned beneficiary only if there is positive and indisputable proof that the beneficiary did not play a part in my death. Both Manu and Varadan must be convinced of this beyond any doubt. The mere absence of incriminating evidence is not sufficient.
‘Alternatively, if the person behind my death is identified and apprehended, and both Manu and Varadan are convinced that the right person has been apprehended, the bequests, other than those earmarked for the perpetrator, will be released.
‘In the interim, your allowances will continue unchanged, as will a salary to Sebastian, even if Manu chooses not to have him at the mansion. Your bequests, you already know. They are the same as in the first will.’
‘Is mine still an annuity for twenty years?’ Richie asked.
‘Yes, Richie. That will ensure that you will have a steady income for twenty years. After that, when you are older and wiser, the corpus—which is a sizable amount—will come to you.’
‘Can’t you reconsider this, Uncle? After all, I could do so much with the corpus. I could make it grow faster than what an annuity investment would yield.’
‘You could, Richie. But, on the other hand, you could deplete it too. My pledge would remain unfulfilled if that were to happen, and my soul wouldn’t rest in peace.’
‘But, Uncle, you are treating Dora differently.’
‘That is because she is different’ Bhaskar’s tone sharpened. ‘Now isn’t the time for this discussion, Richie.’
Silence descended on the group. A full minute passed without sound.
‘Well?’ Bhaskar asked. ‘Any comments?’
When nobody responded, Bhaskar turned to Dora.
‘Speak, girl. Say what’s on your mind.’
‘I don’t know how to say this, Uncle, but it seems like…like the three of us are being treated as potential murderers. That’s not a nice feeling.’
‘Not just you three, Dora. All beneficiaries except Manu. That includes Sebastian, Father Tobias, Murugan, Bhuvana, Bahadur, Gopal, and a bunch of others in Coonoor and Ooty.’
‘Still…we are your blood relatives.’ There were tears in her eyes. She looked deeply hurt.
‘I know it’s unfair on the rest of you. But the fact remains that someone is trying to get rid of me.’
‘And how do you expect this little speech of yours to change that?’ Dora shot back.
‘I’m hoping that whoever sent the intruder will now see in black and white that he or she will not benefit from killing me.’
‘Exactly!’ Dora fumed, her eyes afire with fury. ‘The person trying to kill you is going to hear what you have said to the three of us. Then that person is either among us three, or someone who is close to one of us. Is that what you think of me, Uncle?’
‘Dora–’ Bhaskar tried to reason with her, but she cut him off and rose angrily to her feet.
‘Isn’t the shadow of suspicion hanging over our heads enough?’ she demanded, her voice cracking with emotion. ‘Should you pile it on too, Uncle? I am at a total loss. I don’t know what I have done to deserve this.’ She turned and stormed out of the library.
* * *
Athreya entered the chapel and locked the door behind him. The police had finished with the building and, after removing the body and doing a full forensic examination of the crime scene, had returned the keys to him. If Athreya was to find a new clue, it had to be something the police had overlooked. Whatever Muthu’s faults may be, he was as tenacious as a bulldog and very thorough.
Athreya stood still, a foot inside the chapel door, narrowed his eyes to slits and tried to mentally travel back in time to when the murder had taken place. He was, of course, familiar with the physical details of the chapel. What he wanted now was to get an intuitive feel of the place, and to put himself in Phillip’s shoes.
Why had Phillip come to the chapel?
That, Athreya knew, was the key to the riddle. If he could answer the question, he would take a giant stride forward in the investigation. There was something special about the chapel that had brought Phillip and his killer to it at around 12:30 a.m. that night. What was it?
Phillip would have entered through the chapel door—which Richie had oiled sometime during the day—and would have stood where Athreya was now standing.
The lights would have been off, but Phillip would have stood here and silently surveyed the dark chapel. Had he been expecting to find something or someone? Or had he just wanted to ensure that it was empty and he was alone?
Was the wheelchair with Phillip at that time? From the way blood had spilled all over the front of his shirt, down to his waist, Athreya was inclined to believe that Phillip had been sitting in the wheelchair when someone came from behind and slit his throat.
But where had the wheelchair and Phillip been when the killer had struck? Surely, such a deep ear-to-ear gash would have severed both the jugular vein and the carotid artery, and made blood gush out. Some of it must have spurted out on to the floor.
Where? There hadn’t been the slightest trace of blood anywhere in the estate outside the chapel—not on the grass, the walkways or in and around the mansion. It then stood to reason that Phillip’s throat had been slit in the chapel.
Even inside, there was very little blood on the floor or the mats. The mat at the corner where the wheelchair had been found had only two spots of blood on it. Nowhere near the amount that should have been there.
Had Phillip been killed somewhere else in the chapel and then wheeled to the corner? Likely. Very likely. Then, wherever he had been killed, the mats must have soaked in a fair amount of blood. But