Inspector Regalia and the Case of the Wedding Gone Wrong – Episode 4 : The Coroners

They got down on their hands and knees, quite nimbly for someone their ages, tool cases open, and proceeded with their examination.

In these difficult financial times, everybody and anybody needs to outsource. Even the chaps who traditionally were the recipients of the outsourced jobs found they needed to hire smaller and cheaper enterprises (without compromising the quality of work, that goes without saying of course) to keep things moving. And affordable. The police force wasn’t immune to this either and had, for a year at least, been outsourcing the investigation of bodies at crime scenes to a pair of private coroners based in the suburbs.

Mr. and Mrs. De Souza had been attending a wedding themselves (it was the season for Indian weddings) and arrived at the scene of Aarav and wife’s deaths dressed in stylish and traditional kurtha and saree. They got the policemen to clear the hall and got down on their hands and knees, quite nimbly for people their ages, beside the bride and groom, opened their tool cases and proceeded with the examination. The bullet wounds were examined, the couple’s hands, necks and faces were scrutinized with a magnifying glass, and the police photographer, who thought he’d done his job, was recalled and asked to take additional shots as instructed by the De Souzas. Liquid samples were taken with syringes from the edges of the groom’s mouth. Likewise with the bride. The wedding rings were rotated around stiff fingers and photos taken.

As they completed their work, the De Souzas were told that Regalia was the investigating officer but he was out of sight. They had information that they wanted to share with him as soon as possible, instead of waiting for him to be informed the day after, once the formal post-mortem was completed. They figured he was in some back room interviewing witnesses in a roundabout and pointless-seeming way or possibly, out on the verandah with a drink in hand, reeling off anecdotes to listeners, who were either amused or alarmed. They’ve seen him do both in their time supporting the police force.

The junior Inspectors who came after him had gone past him, if you looked at pay-grade, recognitions, opportunities given to work on high profile cases and to hob-nob with the self-important big-wigs in the organization.

He was the least formal among the Inspectors at the station, the one who was also the least aggressive with his career, the last one to be considered for promotions and the last one to actually do things with an eye on such promotions. The junior Inspectors who came after him had gone past him, if you looked at pay-grade, recognitions, opportunities given to work on high profile cases and to hob-nob with the self-important big-wigs in the organization. But when it came to passion for one’s work, or at least being sincere in doing what had to be done, especially when no cameras were present and no rewards were at stake, Jan (short for Janu) and George De Souza had never witnessed a better policeman than the good Inspector Regalia.

The De Souzas sent word to the Inspector through the policeman who was attending to them, and waited.

Regalia would be pleased to find out shortly that his jokes about death by caking would hold some water after all.

To be continued…

photo from unsplash.com by Zoriana Stakhniv

Inspector Regalia and the Case of the Wedding Gone Wrong – Episode 3 : Mrs Pall

‘You were watching for suspicious characters at a wedding? That’s not one of the responsibilities of your profession, is it?’

Mrs. Pall looked too cool to be a murderer or to have anything to do with one. That was Regalia’s first impression. His first impressions were often wrong.

With her greying short hair and glasses, her hooked nose and nifty dress sense (not overdone but sufficiently stylish to turn a few discerning heads), she could have passed for a lecturer or a professor. But apparently, as Regalia found out, she was a practicing nun with an obscure Christian denomination from the north of India.

Are there obscure Christian denominations to be found in Northern India? Regalia wondered.

Apparently, there were, and Mrs. Pall had been a member of the faith since she got married, more than twenty years earlier.

‘Is there a Mr Pall?’

‘Probably. I can imagine there’s plenty of Mr. Pall’s running around,’ she replied, ‘but the one married to me passed away in 1999.’

‘Natural causes?’

‘Slipped and fell.’

Regalia’s right eye twitched and his eyebrows rose, beckoning an answer from the woman seated before him.

‘Well at least he wasn’t forked to death.’ Regalia said. ‘The medical people had to give him relaxants to calm him down. He still looks petrified of you. ‘

‘In the bathroom. That’s one of the leading causes of death among folks of a certain age group.’

‘Well at least he wasn’t forked to death.’ Regalia couldn’t resist the dig, allowing a thin, satisfied smile to appear on his handsome face.

Mrs. Pall remained cool.

‘I’d have preferred something more substantial as an instrument.’

‘Why did you launch yourself at that young fellow in there? The medical people had to give him relaxants to calm him down. He still looks petrified.’

‘Never seen him before in my life.’

‘So why the attempted assault?’

‘I thought he was the one who murdered the bride and groom.’

‘How and when?’

‘He had been circling the wedding cake too many times. It seems that he was interested in more than the decorations.’

‘You were watching for suspicious characters at a wedding? That’s not one of the responsibilities of your profession, is it?’

‘All nuns are trained to observe.’

Regalia waited.

‘You don’t want to ask what for?’

‘I won’t but please go ahead.’

‘We observe people. By the nature of our profession, we spend less time talking or thinking of ourselves and more observing those around us.’

‘Looking for murderers?’

‘No, we look at the souls around us and learn to identify the needy ones. The ones in pain or who carry excessive burdens.’

‘This chap you pounced on – did he look like he was carrying a burden?’

‘No, Inspector. I’d observed him earlier because he seemed to linger too long around the wedding cake, did not mingle with anyone else and appeared a little furtive. When the screaming started -‘

‘When the bride and groom took bites of the cake, the lights went out and shots rang out – this I was told was what had happened. Would you agree?’

‘Just about. He was running towards the gunshots when the lights came on. Everybody else was going in the opposite direction.’

‘Everybody except you.’

‘I’m a nun.’

Regalia raised his eyebrows, an unspoken ‘So?’

‘We are ready to surrender ourselves to the Lord at any moment. Death does not frighten me,’ she allowed for a pause, where usually any listener would comment on death or the Lord. Regalia didn’t and she continued, ‘So I remained still and witnessed the aberration.’

‘And you chased him, the aberration.’

‘I pursued him, and he chose to climb onto the dining table in order to get away. I followed and he stumbled.’

‘The fork?’

‘I needed protection in some form. I didn’t know if he was armed. When I’d got him pinned on the table, I waited for help to arrive.’

‘Yes, I was on the scene by then and saw your performance,’ Mrs. Pall gave him a look that you’d not expect from a nun. He continued, with some satisfaction,

‘I saw that it was quite an effort to get you off the table and away. Why such passion for pinning down a stranger, if the cavalry had arrived to take over the task?

Mrs. Pall, credit to her, seemed to be handling the needless, needling questions with the patience of -I’ll say it – a nun. She allowed herself a grin.

‘Inspector, I was not about to let a potential murderer get away due to negligence on my part.’

‘What happened to love thy enemy and all that?’

‘Inspector Regalia – if that’s your real name – you seem to be a little negative about faith, particularly the Christian one. You probably are an agnostic? No. Perhaps you were Christian too and the experiences in your life, maybe during your childhood, had made you what you are today. A skeptic. Perhaps possessing an ever-present cynicism when it comes to Christianity. Perhaps you have the same disdain for all religions.’

Regalia looked at Mrs. Pall as if she’d just said the silliest thing he’d heard in his entire professional career. So he asked his question,

‘Are you related to either of the deceased?’

That’s when Mrs. Pall’s smile faded.

Regalia leaned back and stood up. He didn’t need to hear anything more. The interview was over. He left the room with a spring in his step.

To be continued….

photo from unsplash.com by Debby Hudson

The Lifer

I sat with her during the break, away from the rest, and asked her what had happened. She kept her eyes lowered. It seems, for something she’d done, they had taken away her privileges.

This is how I remember her. She spoke always in a voice that never rose beyond a mildly raised tone, even when angry. She fit the same sized prison uniform, never gaining or losing significant weight. I’d been visiting her for several years and her weight, skin tone, the way she tied up her hair, her walk, had all remained constant. Sure, as the years ticked by, I noticed the gradual increase in the grey strands in her hair. And, when I sat opposite her under the sodium light of the visitors’ room, her crow’s feet grew more noticeable each year. She was serving a life sentence. I knew why but what got her into prison is not important for this conversation.

Continue reading “The Lifer”