THE RATNAM CASE

short story 2, chapter 1

She was fidgeting in the passenger seat, biting her nails and bouncing her right leg, her eyebrows joined together in a frown.

“You look like you have something going on inside your head. What is it?” I gently prodded while driving the car at 120 on the highway.

“But sir, with no offense intended, why did you pick me out of all the people who applied to be your assistant for the day?” she blurted out.

“Goodness, Samara, do you not want this opportunity? Even if you don’t, it’s too late to bail out,” I laughed as her face turned red.

“No, no sir, I don’t want to bail out. This is literally a dream opportunity for me,” she replied hastily, trying to do some damage control.

“Oh yeah, nothing qualifies as a dream opportunity like investigating a gruesome murder site, does it?” I chuckled, and she smiled nervously.

“The dream opportunity here is working with you, sir. That would be such a feather in my cap,” she replied nervously, and I smiled.

Being one of the famous forensic scientists turned detectives in the state, I do get a lot of letters, mails, and resumes from all over the country begging for internships and on-site assistance. These children bend over backwards to win my approval.

And Samara isn’t entirely wrong to question my decision. I met her during one of the summer camps in her program where I was required to train people about the basics of evidence collection and crime scene investigation. She wasn’t the smartest person who applied to be my assistant. I got so many other requests from highly skilled, qualified students with an excellent presence of mind who begged to work under me for this case.

The case itself is about investigating the murder of Mr. Ratnam, a high-profile businessman who was found dead in his luxury villa. He is someone who is featured in Forbes and Fortune in every other edition. That man literally ruled a portion of the tech empire and would have made a great deal of enemies during his tenure as the CEO of XY-Tech.

I looked over at Samara, who was furiously texting someone on her phone. When she saw me looking at her, she quickly sent the last message and mumbled out an apology for texting in my presence.

“What’s the issue that has got your fingers flying over your phone’s keyboard?” I asked, trying to make her feel at ease.

“My friend group has split into two because of your decision to choose me as your assistant. Half of them are happy for me, and half of them think I don’t deserve this prestigious opportunity. And frankly, I agree with the second half. I feel like there are more experienced people who can assist you, sir. I am just a clumsy ass who thought she could make it big as a forensic scientist,” her voice faded away.

I let the silence sit for a moment before I responded.

“What makes you think that you are not capable, Samara? Okay, I am not going to sugar-coat things. Yes, I did have better candidates who wanted this opportunity so badly. But then what’s the use of me being the best in the state if I can’t make an average student on par with me? The excellent ones will figure it out somehow and can work with mediocre professors and still get good experience. My goal is to take the ‘average kids’ and train them to make them the best.

Besides, don’t worry. The crime rates are so high that none of your friends are going to run out of internships anytime soon. And if it makes you feel better, I already have a few other cases lined up for which I’ll take some of your friends who have better resumes and experience, okay?”

For the first time in the entire car ride, Samara relaxed.

“I know I might be a little slow when it comes to noticing details, or a little clumsy while handling things, but I am definitely a hard worker, sir. I will not let you down. I’ll make the most out of this opportunity,” she said, enthusiasm filling her tone.

“That’s exactly the spirit I need,” I said as we reached the location.

“And sir, thank you for the ride. I was wondering how I would reach here. Thank you for picking me up, even though it cost you a lot of gas,” she laughed awkwardly, nodding towards my fuel gauge, which showed that my tank had less than half a tank of fuel.

It was my turn to frown as she laughed at my expression.

We made it to the villa without needing to stop for fuel, thankfully. The villa was located just at the end of the highway, and 500 metres from the villa was where the city started.

It was a huge place, with massive gates and tall trees surrounding the main house for privacy. The beauty of the place was ruined by the presence of police tape.

Samara followed me with the kit required to collect and document the evidence we might find here. I asked her to speak to the photographer and start collecting visible clues as I wandered to find the policeman in charge.

A young officer stood there, looking around nervously, and he jumped the moment I approached him from behind.

“Are you in charge of this case?” I asked.

“No sir, I am Nithin, and my senior officer Mr. Sriram is yet to reach. He asked me to look over the forensic procedure and other formalities. He said he’ll come by 9 a.m., and I thought you guys would also come around that time,” he said frantically.

“Oh, that’s alright. I am Puneeth, senior forensic scientist and detective, and I am here with my assistant Samara,” I said, extending my hand for a handshake.

He gripped my hand nervously and said, “I know sir. In fact, a lot of people know you. You are one of the top detectives in our state.”

I smiled, internally brimming with pride, for all this validation does make me feel a little vain, even after getting it for so many years.

I walked back to the crime scene, and everything was left untouched. The body was still present, as the crime was said to have happened in the wee hours of the night, somewhere between 12–2 a.m., according to Nithin’s records.

I asked to see the photographs taken so far, and the photographer looked sheepish as he said, “I reached five minutes before you came, sir. I haven’t taken thorough photos of the scene yet. I didn’t expect you guys to be here this early.”

“I got a call at 5 a.m. that I was assigned to this case, and due to a lack of better work I just decided to show up as soon as I could, as it helps me investigate without any interruptions from the police or media,” I said as I walked closer towards the body.

I asked Samara for gloves, evidence bags, and tweezers.

There was a long strand of hair stuck on the button of his shirt that didn’t look like it belonged to Mr. Ratnam, who was practically bald. There was also something that looked like a hickey on his neck, and I chuckled before asking the photographer to capture it.

“Looks like that man might have had a side chick,” I said to Samara as I handed over the bag containing that hair strand.

“Hello Mr. Puneeth, sorry if I made you wait. I didn’t realize that you would show up so soon,” came a booming voice from behind, and I turned to look at Mr. Sriram, the senior officer who had been assigned this case.

“No Sriram, I didn’t feel like waiting for you or for the media people to arrive, as any chaos may lead to evidence tampering. I’ve started my work already,” I said, walking up to him and taking off my glove before shaking his hand.

“I understand Puneeth. I’ll leave you and your assistant to investigate the actual crime scene and go around this huge villa to try and find more evidence.”

“Sounds good, Sriram. Any evidence you find, please call me or my assistant, and we’ll collect it and send it to the lab.”

“Sure Puneeth,” said Sriram before walking towards the door.

I watched him walk towards the exit and turned back towards the body, where Samara was busy digging for evidence.

“Also Puneeth, just to make sure, weren’t you the one who worked on the murder case of Mr. Ratnam’s wife too, around a month ago?” came Sriram’s voice.

“Yes Sriram, I am the one who worked on it, and the higher officials have asked me to officially close the case, since there are no leads at all. And that’s another reason why I showed up earlier today, to see if there’s any link between the two murders.”

He nodded, looking satisfied, before walking towards the patio.

“Sir, I’ve found a cufflink here, but it doesn’t look like it belonged to Mr. Ratnam,” came Samara’s voice, a little excited at having found evidence herself.

I walked to her and crouched near her to take a closer look.

“What makes you say that this cufflink doesn’t belong to Mr. Ratnam, Samara?” I asked as I put the glove back on my right hand and took the cufflink from her.

“The shirt that Mr. Ratnam is wearing is not something that needs cufflinks. It looks a little less formal, doesn’t it?” she explained, looking at me like she had found the cure for cancer.

“Well, you are absolutely right, Samara. Let me put this cufflink in an evidence bag. Could you please go to the garden and check for any suspicious footprints or evidence? I don’t fully trust Sriram to do the work,” I said.

As Samara walked away to the garden, I quietly pocketed my cufflink. This is why one should choose someone like Samara as their assistant. She makes evidence tampering very easy.

Tampering with evidence at a crime scene is effortless when you are the senior forensic scientist.

And tampering with evidence is necessary when you are the one who committed the crime.

Author’s note: Chapter 2 is about the crime itself, and the motive behind the crime.