“Shootout today in front of Barista Café. Person killed is the son of a leading politician” screamed all the evening newspapers of Chennai. The circulation of the papers touched a new high.

The politician concerned was from the ruling party. He was a prominent figure and a key minister in the cabinet. The murder happened around 3. pm and the politician came running at about 3.20 pm to the spot. When the news was broken to him at 3.08 pm he was in an important business meeting at the Secretariat. He took his Mitsubishi Pajero and rushed immediately to the café. Upon seeing the body of his son, he cried inconsolably. While the hotel staff, the police inspector Krish and his own driver tried to console him, he was furious that somebody should be targeting his son. Hardly in his 20s, the son’s body had just one bullet driven into his right temple and lied embedded in the skull. The hole was big enough. It was a ghastly scene. The police inspector had to request the politician not to touch the body or the chair and table where the son had slumped to the bullet. It appeared as though the son was tired and he was resting his head on the table.

The minister vowed to bring the killer to book. He wanted to publicly kill the killer. In a fit of emotion, he shouted in so many words at the café. While onlookers were aghast at this scene, they could understand the deep bond that the father and son enjoyed. They were as clueless as the police and the minister as to who could unleash such an act of terror on an innocent college-passed-out student.

The police started its routine round of questioning all concerned with the incident. They, fortunately, could get some video footage also from the site as the café had CCTV cameras fitted at the entrance. The only issue was the exact spot where the murder took place. It was an open portico sort of place where each table had an umbrella-shaped canopy to ward off the sunlight and heat. It was outside the café. Being located in the busy Nungambakkam area, though it was covered with trees on either side of the road, this particular sit-out had sun directly hitting the café visitors. Hence this arrangement was made by the Barista. Also, there was a considerable office-goers’ crowd to this café starting lunchtime onwards. People from the nearby Income Tax Office, another commercial complex like the Kothari building, ICICI Bank Presidium branch used to flock here for a mini lunch followed by coffee. Strange though it might look, that day afternoon was not crowded. It was a hot summer afternoon and a local holiday with few offices choosing to work under closed shutters. They had the fear that anytime a labour inspector could visit their premises and take them to task.

Mukesh, the victim was the sole person sitting at the table where he had breathed his last after being shot at. This table was in one remote corner of the front area. It was partly visible from the main road. For the police inspector who probed this, it appeared to be a well-thought-out and planned murder. It was one waiter who had actually seen Mukesh dozing off on the table. He was shocked that there was no response when he wanted to take the order. Smelling something fishy, he went back silently and reported the matter to his café owner without creating a scene and panicking the other visitors. The owner was equally perturbed. Mustering courage, he lifted the head of Mukesh which was still held firmly in his own right hand. The waiter had not got any suspicion, as he did not see blood or the hole in the right temple. The victim had slumped onto the table with his left temple face down. The moment both the owner and the waiter came and lifted the body, there was a hullabaloo in the front area of the café. There were shrieks of shock, especially by a group of girls who were at their lunch two tables away. All this had happened at around 2.30 p.m. It apparently looked as though the right temple was pierced by a bullet from a silencer, as none had heard the shot.

Upon enquiring the waiter's concern, he said that he could not zero in on any suspicious figures or movement nearby when he observed Mukesh first. The CCTV footage showed two youths running away hurriedly in their two-wheeler. Fortunately, the vehicle’s registration number was visible. Also the footage clearly showed all those visitors between 2 & 3 pm. It helped the police look at the faces of the visitors and zero in on the possible suspect.

The two youths who left hurriedly on the two-wheeler were initially called to the police station and questioned. They had to show their mobile call log to prove that they had to rush for an urgent meeting at an office. Police verified the same with the person who had called from that landline number.

The girls were questioned about what they had observed. They confessed that they were having fun while enjoying their lunch. Suddenly they saw both the waiter and some other person (who incidentally happened to be the owner) come to Mukesh’s chair and table. It was all normal till then. They had also presumed that Mukesh was dozing off under the impact of the afternoon heat and was probably unwell. They respected his privacy and did not disturb him. The inspector then wanted to know the time of arrival of the 4 girls, the time when they saw him dozing off etc. the girls told the inspector that they had come around 2.20 pm. At that time, they recalled having seen Mukesh alive and engrossed deeply in his thoughts holding his forehead. Around roughly 2.35 pm when they saw him, he was dozing off. It led them to believe that he might have had a bad headache. Initially he was holding his forehead and then fell asleep. There was not even an iota of doubt that he was shot dead silently. While Meghala was the one who was face to face with Mukesh, her friend Shika was facing her, with her back towards Mukesh. The other two friends Priya and Suchita were sitting around the round table. The umbrella canopy was also a hindrance to view clearly. The girls were caught up in their own world and hardly had noticed Mukesh slump. Having been re-assured that none of these girls could be suspects in this murder case, they were let off by the police with an overriding instruction that they will have to visit the police station whenever called for.

Waiter Marimuthu was separately questioned thereupon. Though he was initially shaken to the roots, because the police inspector spoke to him as though he was a suspect, it took time for Marimuthu to understand the process. Knowing pretty well that he had nothing to hide, he offered full co-operation in the incident investigation. He recalled with precision the orders that he had taken at table 4 and 5, the corner tables at that end that afternoon. The police cross verified it with Meghala’s order as well. The bills were called for as a proof. Mukesh was at table 6 and all alone. He had not placed the order before his death. The CCTV footage showed him whistle merrily and enter the café’s front area before taking his seat at table 6. The coverage had captured Mukesh silently slump on to his table with a mild jerk.

The owner also narrated his version of the whole incident. He had rushed to table no.6 with Marimuthu, but without showing any anxiety to the customers who were enjoying their lunch. Something appeared fishy to him, based on the description given by Marimuthu. Though both of them lifted Mukesh’s body upwards by giving pressure under his right armpit, they were shocked to see his right arm soaked in blood. It had spilled over his right cheek as well and onto the white circular plastic table. It was the shrill noise that Marimuthu made that unleashed a panic to the customers who were having their lunch. The girls were the first to be shell shocked, as they were at table no.5. They too joined chorus with Marimuthu’s shriek

Then there was an old aged couple who were called for inquiry. They were seated at table no.4 and had come for a lunch out. Both the husband and wife were in tears for having to visit a police station in connection with a murder, when they knew that it was not their fault at all. The police had tough time convincing them that this was a routine procedure and an inquiry by itself does not mean that it is “fixing” them for a murder. The old man then slowly regained composure and towards the end of the enquiry shared a joke with the inspector. He informed the police that they took unduly long time to finish their lunch, as his wife had forgotten her dentures at home and had to use his.

Tucked away in the opposite corner of Barista café was a “clothes ironing” vendor on wheels who used to tow his four wheeled platform here and there. Though he used to be stationed mostly there, at times, when business was not forthcoming he went into the nearby by-lanes of Wallace Garden. Residents used to get their clothes ironed by him across the counter. Being a place where affluent people lived, he made a tidy sum doing this job. Since it was lunch time and the heat was already telling, he had placed his iron and clothes on the lower platform of the four-wheeler. He was dozing off on the top platform after a sumptuous home- made lunch. It was his lifetime desire to dine at Barista café, but knew he could never afford the same. Also his wife would yell at him, even if he thought of paying for the same from his hard earned money. His version of dozing off was fortunately confirmed by a neighbor who had to return with his bag of clothes that she had brought around that time for ironing.

Amidst all this, there was also a college friend of Mukesh who was in the crime investigation department CB-CID. His name was Mukundan. He had just left Barista café to attend to his office work post lunch. The enquiry seemed to be hitting a dead end, with no possible clue. There were no fingerprints to be taken from the scene. Though police sniffer dogs were pressed into action, the dog too went around the murder spot but could not go any further.

What intrigued Krish was that the sniffer dog did not move towards the main road in front of Barista café or into the building. It went from table no 6 to the 2nd floor in the adjacent building which was under construction and came back to table 6. Krish was under tremendous pressure to identify the killer. Police were losing precious days in the investigation. The minister brought in pressure and the case was entrusted to CB-CID.

Mukundan came to know of the case once he was nominated as the chief investigator. Though he was in the same city, work pressures had become so huge that he could not come and see the dead body of his own college mate. He was initially reluctant to take up the case. Being a straightforward cop, he was wary of the minister’s attitude. Further, he did not want to be cornered by the latter through emotional blackmail wherein the “friend’s death” needs to be avenged. While Mukundan always believed in upholding the law of the land and bringing the killers to book, he wanted to do it in accordance with the rules laid down. For him, everybody was equal in the eyes of law. He did not want to be seen as favoring his friend or friend’s father. Initially, he recused himself from the nomination and sought posting elsewhere. He wanted to handle some other case.

It was in these circumstances that Shriya, his college mate had approached him. She was a mutual friend of Mukundan and Mukesh. Mukesh was known for his social welfare activities even in college days. He had earned a good name this way and sustained the momentum by continuing with the same even after he left college. Shriya used to be a great fan of Mukesh even from college days which Mukundan fondly recalled. “ Hai Shriya, so how is your love going on?” was the standard query Mukundan used to ask her on a couple of occasions when he last met her. It was a bit shocking to note that Shriya approached him to personally plead to take up this case investigation. “Mukundan, you know that I was deeply in love and awe of what Mukesh used to do. We even visited the hamlets near the seashore together on many an occasion. He was committed to bring up the lives of the downtrodden, especially the fishermen. In fact, I loved him for his selfless service. For the wealth that his father had acquired in all unethical ways, he was a bright star in the dark sky. He never had an air of “I did it”. He was very humble till his death. I miss him badly. If, as a friend, you want to do anything good to both of us, I feel you must take up this investigation and go into the entire back ground and find out the killer. Please do it for me. I will be indebted to you for life” she said.

As she was talking to Mukundan, tears started rolling down her cheeks. She was lost in her own world of love. She recalled the way both of them used to pull each other’s legs and Mukundan used to intervene. The long drives on a motorcycle on ECR, boating at Muttukadu, eating at the roadside stalls all seem to come alive once again. Mukesh was not particularly fond of God or visiting temples. But he did all that on the behest of Shriya. Sometimes the temples used to provide the couple with much required solitude and solace. Mukundan mustered some courage and asked Shriya “If I am not interfering into your privacy, can I ask you one question? Are you pregnant? And is this the reason why you want the killer of Mukesh to be found out?” Shriya was rudely shaken at this seemingly innocuous question, but came back to her senses quickly. She said that Mukesh was a perfect gentleman. Even his hugs and kisses had her approval. In fact, at times, she was bored that this guy does not take any undue advantage. She wanted him to. May be Mukesh was very image conscious and did not want his father’s name to be tarnished on account of his love affair.

As the state minister for rural development, Mutharasu wielded lot of political clout. His decisions were rarely questioned even by the Chief Minister. In fact, on many an occasion he was taken into confidence by the CM before arriving at major policy decisions. He had 15-20 years of political experience. He had started his career as a small time petty thief. He graduated to become a renowned rowdy and then got into liquor business. He earned left, right and center with the Government itself taking up marketing of liquor through its outlets. His connections went far and deep till New Delhi. He was known to tilt the scales in favor of whomever he chose to.

Mutharasu and Mukundan met for the first time at the former’s office with regards to the case. The latter introduced him and told the minister that he was a college mate of Mukesh as well. This meant that things were much better for Mutharasu. He said “I have now got the confidence that my son’s murder case will be brought to a logical conclusion. Thambi, use all your investigate skills to the core. Pull up anybody whom you think is a suspect. Whatever support you want, I shall offer. Do not spare anybody, no matter how high in cadre he is or influential. I want to avenge my son’s death. But bear one thing in mind. Before you file a case on the culprit and get him punishment through legal means, just show him to me. I will get him killed in public. People must know that they cannot touch me or my family.”

Mukundan reluctantly heard to all this high drama. However, he assured the minister that he will comply with his instructions. Upon leaving the minister's office, he got a call for a conference at Goa the next day. He had to rush home and pack his luggage for the night flight. He was scheduled to attend the conference at a posh resort at Goa for the next two days. He had very little time for a haircut and hence chose to do the same first thing in the morning on the start day of the conference. Having reached Goa late in the night and ushered into his resort, he hit the sack almost instantaneously. He had his alarm set for 6 a.m. next morning.

The conference was being attended by senior CID officers and he was sure of gaining good knowledge and expertise based on data that would be shared in this meeting. In fact, he was looking forward to the same for quite some time.

At the barber saloon, firmly ensconced in the chair with the black saloon gown on his dress, Mukundan was fingering his smart phone. It contained the various pictures of Mukesh’s body, starting from the slumping on the table to it being transported on a stretcher for post-mortem. The barber was pale and shocked on seeing this photo. He remarked to Mukundan “Arey saabji, this man was here yesterday? Was he killed? I am unable to believe it.” Mukundan himself was left flabbergasted as Mukesh was killed at least a week back. How come then that he could have been seen at Goa by this barber and that too like a normal customer? Was it a decoy that was used in the murder? Did the body on which the post-mortem was held not Mukesh’s? Is Mukesh still alive and roaming freely at Goa? Why then Mutharasu is making a hue and cry out of nothing? What would he gain out of this?

Mukundan recalled that a by-election was in the offing and Mutharasu was the ruling party candidate for the same. He had been first made a minister and is now set to become a MLA (Member of Legislative Assembly). He could tie up loose ends. He now had a hunch that Mutharasu wanted to gain public sympathy and come to power by getting elected by hook or crook. He could not believe that he would get his own son killed for this purpose. But then, it was not his own son. Then whose body was it? How can there be a striking similarity between Mukesh and this decoy? Who would have actually killed this person? Who hired the killer? Mukundan sought and got extension to stay for 2 more days at Goa. He smelled a rat.

He questioned the barber and made it doubly sure that it was indeed Mukesh who had visited the saloon yesterday. The barber confirmed and also brought about the dark black scar on the white face which was visible on his right cheek. Mukundan was now convinced.

He went for shopping at the Anjuna Flea market on the 2nd day was a pleasure. However, he could not locate Mukesh anywhere there.

Lesser known than its famous counterparts, Divar Island is huddled away across the Mandovi River. At this place, one can unravel the appeals of old Goa countryside. You can enjoy a pictorial drive amidst paddy hills and several ancient temples existed. They were destroyed by the Portuguese and the main Ganesh idol had to be replaced in Khandola hamlet near Marcel.

When at the hilltop, you can soak in the sweeping sights of the surroundings as well as Old Goa and the meandering Mandovi River. The island especially comes alive during the Bonderam festival that is held with great gusto during the monsoon.

Mukundan suspected that Mukesh might have gone to Divar Island as many do not show keen interest in visiting this place. He was still confused. Would Mutharasu have blessed Mukesh and sent him on a holiday, only to call him back to Chennai after the election? Would he have got his son killed and the body at the Barista café shootout be that of Mukesh? Would he have sent Mukesh over here to have him bumped off the hillock on Divar Island even without the latter’s knowledge? After all, his reach was spread across the country far and wide and that was too powerful.

It also struck him that Mukesh was into many social activities and had earned a good name, which he sincerely deserved. Now the father was trying to encash his son’s popularity for his vote, knowing pretty well that his chances were least when it came to win against a formidable opposition candidate. This person was very simple and had worked in the same constituency for years together, earning repute for himself.

Close on his hunch, the trail led Mukundan to Divar Island. It was hardly difficult for him to catch Mukesh red-handed. The latter confided to his friend and CB-CID inspector that he was here much to his chagrin. He had reluctantly agreed to his dad’s well-laid-out plan. He had not visited the Barista café on that fateful day. In fact, he had left a day earlier to that to Goa.

Having been flown down from Goa on the day after the conference ended, Mukundan exposed the master plan of Mutharasu to media. He was never scared of doing his duty and this was another glowing example of the same. Mutharasu had to be sacked immediately from his post of minister. He was expelled from the ruling party also. The focus now shifted to the body which had undergone a post-mortem. It was that of a rich lad. He used to drive his car rashly on OMR. Who could have killed him and from where? Why should he have been killed?

Mukundan dug deep. He found that “road rage” could have been a reason. He zeroed in on the victim’s car registration number. This lad was staying all for riches”. Many a time, he would race his car at top most speed on OMR (Old Mahabalipuram Road). It was during one such jaunt that Mutharasu’s car was slightly hit from the back by this guy Keshav. A heavy altercation of words ensured and one of Mutharasu’s henchman and Keshav came to blows. On that day, they were separated by the crowd on OMR. He was the guy who was murdered at Barista café. It was Mutharasu who then confessed to have asked his henchman to bump off Keshav. The latter used to frequent Barista café and always took the table no.6. Mutharasu’s henchman made a record of the place and Keshav was “put on the watch”. A silencer-fitted gun was used by this person. He had chosen the building under construction next door to Barista café. There were no construction workers around that time. They had gone for lunch downstairs. As is the practice, these workers would doze off till around 3 to 3.30 pm and then resume duty. The man was a sharpshooter. He had carried the weapon his own and it was hidden between his pants and underwear at the rear. His shirt gave him additional coverage. Nobody suspected the killer, as he was well dressed and looked like a site engineer going upstairs to inspect something on the terrace at the 4th-floor level. Even the security guard of this building under construction rarely got any suspicion. Safely hiding himself next to the window and behind the small portion of the wall, the henchmen conducted the killing without raising any sound. The tree’s canopy and the canopy on the table no.6 came in very handy for the killer.

It was only after the entire murder plan got laid threadbare at the press conference did the common public got an inkling of who got killed and how he was killed. How a decoy doubled up as the politician’s son was also the question on many a person’s mind. It was the politician’s fortune (or shall we call it misfortune) that their faces bore a striking resemblance.

While Mukundan got his much-deserved promotion, thanks to his cracking this case, Mukesh went on to marry Shriya in a simple but happy function at the beach hamlet, where their love had blossomed.

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