The Investigator

The Investigator

The dacoit looked at the woman sent to interrogate him. There was a fire burning in her eyes that threatened to turn him into ashes, but he was a dacoit too,

“Interesting, I thought the Rajput’s protected their honour and here we are,” he eyed from head to toe. “They sent a young woman to entice the information out of me.”

The woman smiled, “you seem to have the wrong idea.” In one swift move, she slashed his arm with her dagger, “I’m not here to entice the information out of you. I will cut it out from you.”

The Afghan campsite was buzzing with activity as they planned to move to different location. For the last couple of weeks, their leader was making them set their campsite in different locations all near the borders of Bijolia. The soldiers were confused but dared not to utter a word in front of their leader. Mehmood Shah was hellbent on taking revenge from Mewar’s crown prince for his father’s untimely demise. He had received information about the young prince’s wedding and the abandonment of his bride. Shah wanted his bride under his captivity; he wanted to cut her into pieces and throw her at the doorstep of Chittor like a rag doll. The bride was not an ordinary one for she had managed to escape his clutches quite a few times but not for long.

“Huzoor,” his commander bowed his head, “the lamb has been sacrificed.”

Mehmood Shah’s eyes shone with a victory, “it’s only a matter of time. She would come out to find out the killer and we will grab her then. Prepare for I have decided our next campsite location.”

The funeral was a quiet one with only a handful of people in presence. Dhaman Singh’s body lay on the burning pyre turning into ashes, the priest chanted out a prayer for his peaceful departure to the other world. 

Shakta observed the men present on the ground, someone out of them might have been the killer. His eyes landed on Patta who stood at the back completely unfazed by the death of the man. The village head and elders had requested them to work with Baijilal to find out the killer. Baijilal’s orders were simple,

Ram Prasad and Laxman Prasad ji will focus on the training of the men and women. Dhaman Singh’s killer might be working for the dacoits or the Afghans. We need to be prepared for an attack.

For the investigation, leave it to me and Patta.

His elder brother had refused to accept it and offered a compromise that had been accepted by the village head and elders. Shakta looked back at the pyre only to see the ashes that had started to gather on the ground. 

He felt uneasy on letting his elder brother go without him, it was true Kunwar Pratap was an able and skilled fighter, but he was his Dadabhai, as his mother taught him- you are Laxman. Even if the world is against your Dadabhai Pratap and all the men have gone to the other side, he will always have you.

His bhabhisa had also asked him for the same, be his shadow for I cannot be with him all the time, bhai Shakta.”

“It’s time bhai,” Pratap stood beside him, “I will see you later.”

Ajabde adjusted her maangtika before covering her head with the veil. She had carefully chosen a simple dress to blend in with the crowd. Her heart and mind were playing tug of war with emotions- the former was pulling her towards anger. Her heart wanted her to take all her irritations and anger out on him while her mind wanted her to ignore his presence.

“Give me strength, Maa Bhavani,” she prayed. 

The knock on her door surprised her for she had been told to meet up near the chowk. She walked out to see her husband dressed like a regular person. His sword was clearly visible. She frowned on seeing the sword did he want his identity to be revealed. Showing off his sword openly.

“We will have to go through the forest route,” he told her, “so I decided to have my sword on me.”

She looked away a little embarrassed, he had read her thoughts. Calm down Ajabde. You have a task to fulfil, right now you are Baijilal and he is Ram Prasad.

The setting sun made Ajabde walk faster towards her destination. Her day had been wasted but she won’t let it end like a failure. There was one place where she would find clues and she would check it out herself. He had no right to stop her for both were given the responsibility to find the culprit.

Pratap stood his ground as Ajabde’s gaze penetrated his soul. They had been going in circles for some time without any clue or idea about the killer. One thing he didn’t realise that was his wife knew the forest well and so when he pointed her in a different direction she had it with him.

“I do not know the games you wish to play but I’m tired of them,” she told him. “I told you this morning that searching in the forest is a ridiculous idea, but you didn’t agree. I suggest we turn back now and visit the crime scene for there we will definitely get some clue.”

“No” his voice was firm, “you are not going there.”

She stood in front of the holding cell where Dhaman Singh was murdered. The killing had been strange for there was physical wound and no poison was detected in his meal or water. The guards had checked up on him before the shift changed and he was alive.

“The culprit must have left a clue behind,” she thought walking ahead, “every criminal makes a mistake and so did this one.”

Ajabde was unaware of the pair of eyes keeping a track of her movements. The person lay unmoving on the tree branch in position, hands holding on to a poisonous dart.

“I cannot have you meddling in my affairs,” the person spoke up, “Baijilal.”

Pratap ran as fast as he could towards the holding cell. Unable to stay away from his wife, he had gone to look at her before retiring for the night. He was on his way Patta ran into him worried,

“Jija has not returned home. A few villagers saw her at the chowk, but no one knows where she has gone off to…” Patta looked worried. 

A couple of birds flew out into the air making noises alerting both Patta and Pratap. Without a word, Pratap was running towards the one place he had specifically told her not to visit alone.

“Please be safe, Ajabde. I’m coming.”