Last Victim of the Monsoon Express by Vaseem Khan

Author:Vaseem Khan [Khan, Vaseem]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton Ltd
Published: 2019-03-21T05:00:00+00:00

Chopra walked through the train, his mind aflame.

The articulate, even-mannered judge had hidden a revolver in his luggage. Why had he brought the gun aboard? Why had he fired it? If he had fired it, when and where?

There was a possible explanation that made sense . . .

He entered Neil Bannerjee’s suite and closed the door gently behind him.

The air conditioner was on full blast – with nowhere else to take the body Homi had cooled the room as far as possible, using it as a temporary morgue. Bannerjee lay on the bed, shrouded in a white sheet, his lumpy frame ghoulish in the opulent setting.

Chopra walked to the nearest wall. He scanned the wood panelling, ran his fingers from top to bottom until he was satisfied that there was nothing to find.

With infinite care, he worked his way around the room, examining each wall minutely.

Fifteen minutes later, he found what he was looking for.

Halfway up the peacock’s-fan mural that adorned the wall opposite the bed, there was a bullet hole.

Using a penknife, he dug out the slug.

He compared the flattened metallic pellet in his palm to a bullet from the revolver. Without proper ballistics, it was impossible to be sure, but his instincts told him that the slug had come from the weapon.

He closed his fist around it and stared at the wall.

The driver Gita Viranjali had heard a gunshot late on the night of Bannerjee’s death. Someone had fired this gun in Neil Bannerjee’s room. The likelihood was that the gunman was Justice Kadir Khan.

But why?

Had he attempted to murder Bannerjee and somehow failed? Perhaps he had meant only to scare him? Or had the pair been horsing around with a loaded weapon and accidentally discharged a bullet? Bannerjee had been drinking with someone that evening. The whisky he had ordered was a brand the judge appeared to enjoy.

Motive. It always boiled down to motive.

He sat down on the sofa and took out his phone, dialling a number he had not used in a while. When it connected, he spoke quickly. ‘Shekhar, how are you? It’s Chopra here. I need your help.’

Twenty minutes later, his friend, the Bombay High Court judge Shekhar Basu, called him back. Basu had once confided in Chopra that he counted a number of legal minds across the border among his friends. Senior judges in both countries tended to face similar issues; as a consequence, friendships were forged, even if they were largely conducted at a distance.

Chopra scribbled in his notebook as Basu relayed the information that he had requested. Once he was done, he thanked the man, ended the call, then sat back to review his notes.

James Fairbrother had not exaggerated when he claimed that Justice Kadir Khan was one of the most respected legal minds in Pakistan. According to Shekhar Basu, Khan had begun his legal career in Karachi, completing a law degree at the University of Karachi before establishing his own practice, specialising in constitutional cases, particularly historical land reform disputations.

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