Chapter 9

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Rishikesh rae.Third person with the same surname.What was he now? Meetanjali's brother? Was this that person who wore a blue suit and spoke with a strange accent ? He must be.His accent was similar to that of Geetanjali and Meetanjali.No doubt.

Or am I hallucinating?

I quickly jotted down his name and his phone no.from the card , murmured a small thankyou to my teacher and raced down to my class.Only to find half of my class standing on the bench and writing down something.

"Where is your Maths homework notebook?" A voice similar to a pig called out. No doubt he was my maths teacher holding chalk in one hand and phone in another. Oh! How I wanted to smash that phone into a thousand pieces!

"I haven't brought it sir" I said flatly.

"Stand up on the bench and write BPT theorm 2500 times" He replied back.

What? First, you ask a 6 foot tall person to stand up on a bench which is so fragile that it can break down any time. Second,You ask the person to write a theorm that would require half a page. Third, You ask to write it 2500 times. Sheer  waste of paper and ink.

He owns some paper producing factory or what?

I cursed under my breath and stood up on the bench next to Pratishtha.I had to lean down a bit as I was touching the fan.

"What did ma'am say?" Pratishtha asked me.

"yeah....She was the one who told Shivam to write that down.This man...some Rishikesh rae supposedly has congratulated us and being the National History commitee executive,we have to write that down as it would look...posh." I replied.

"Alright then" She said.

                                                                      ***

That night I layed on my bed staring at the phone no. of Rishikesh rae. Should I call or not? I needed some pretext to call him.I had to know more about him.Soon an idea struck in.

I dialled the no. and waited.

"Hello,Rishikesh rae speaking" The hoarse voice called out.

"Hello.This is Demi lovato speaking from CBI .Sir I need to speak to you urgently" I said

"Yes...Any problem Ms.Lovato?" He said.

Surely this idiot had never heard of Demi lovato. I suppressed a laugh.

"Sir,It's to inform you that you have been accused of your sister's death. Meetanjali rae." I said

"What!!!?? I never killed her! She has been murdered but not by me!" He shouted.

Meetanjali rae murdered. I repeat, murdered. He knows her. My suspicions confirmed.This was the time to extract as much information as possible.

"Sir..as a part of CBI investigation,you are required to tell about your family and yourself from the scratch .As much as possible."

And he told me. About himself. About his family..How he turned into a drug addict, was rescued in time by a NRI family. How he completed masters in history.Came to Delhi.Was in touch with his sisters.Became the National history commitee executive.How his sisters fought often.Had literal cat fights over their father's property.Geetanjali being the most affected.

"and who murdered her..?" I asked.

"I don't know...Ms.lovato. Her death case was not a burglary attempt.That is what I am most sure about. She lived with her daughter who is said to have to been behind the murder. Or what I suspect so" He said

"Daughter!!!?.....Why would she kill her own mother?"I asked perplexed.

"Out of love" He responded.

What the hell is happening? I tried to pinch myself thinking it was a dream but it was not.

"WITH WHOM!!?" I shouted.I was mad now.

"That I don't know. It's what I have heard from people of their locality.Her daughter is absconding.I swear I don't know more,Miss..lovato"  He said obviously worried

"Oh! I am sorry for the inconvenience Mr.Rishikesh.It's my duty to enquire so no hard feelings"I said as composed as possble.

"It's OK. Anything else?"He asked clearly not amused.

"No ..Nothing more.Thanks for the information.Have a good night sir"  I said.

"Good night."He kept down his receiver.

Well...It felt amazing to be addressed as Demi lovato but at the same time it felt confusing.This Rae family had gone mad. Daughter kills mother.Out of love. Sisters have cat fights over some idiotic ancestral property. Brother is a dug addict turned chairman.

Nothing short of an Indian opera.

By this time I completely sympathized with all the crime branches of the world. They must have gone insane trying to solve cases.

My sincere sypathies.

Without wax.

Summer of '13Where stories live. Discover now