The Dead Can Also Kill

By Suneet Paul

Friendship, withering relationships, emotional insecurities, love, passion, stress, betrayal, deceit, hatred, revenge- these are but some of the pungent elements of complex urban life that evolve and contour this fast-paced and engrossing suspense/murder thriller. It is the deftness and zeal of reputed investigative lawyer Richard Froth, that demystifies human intrigue and impulsive circumstantial responses leading to fatal encounters....
“The captivating and focused writing, compels you to finish this book at one go. The simple narrative flow in conjunction with a plot that is realistically framed, makes the reader yearn for more of the intelligently crafted twists and turns in the story-line.” --RajnishWattas, writer & critic

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: May 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9789387649910

Suneet Paul

Born in Nairobi, Kenya- Suneet Paul in his earlier years was exposed to diverse cultures within India, thanks to the gypsy urges of his parents. He comes from a family involved with literature. An architect by training, he is a creative writer and editor of a magazine. Suneet has authored a couple of books in short fiction and has been published in various magazines of the country and online literary portals. Painting is a hobby for him.

Book preview

1

After a hectic day’s work, reputed investigative lawyer Richard Froth, got up from his chair to gather the papers scattered on the desk. Riya, his secretary, had left the office a bit early today as she had an appointment with her dentist. It was now past eight at night and Richard’s intestines were wanting some exciting activity to happen. Having brought about some semblance of order on the table, he combed his hair with his hand, and sat back on his revolving chair, pausing for a while to contemplate on the day’s happenings. A lady had come to hire his professional services to file a case against her husband for forging her signature on a sale deed of an estate belonging to her. The estate was a gift from her rich father. Richard had advised her to first try settling the matter between themselves and not bring in the arm of the law. Then there was that bald man with a squint who had been receiving letters of blackmail from an unknown source. There were two other clients who had wanted to come and meet him, but Riya had put them off till the next week. A trial tomorrow which was at a crucial stage, with his client charged for involvement in a murder, had taken most of the day. He felt confident that all was set to derange the argument of the prosecution. He locked the case files in the third drawer of his desk and gathering his coat and the office keys from the first drawer, walked to Riya’s reception zone. It was a large one with her table and a comfortable waiting space. The adjoining room was for his two assistants in the court. The painting of the smiling monster above Riya’s desk always reminded him of what the world was like once outside the cozy confines of his office. Smiling back to the monster, he switched off the lights and having locked the main door, dropped the keys in his coat pocket. There was a faint ring of the telephone from inside. His first impulse was to ignore the ring. But curiosity got the better of him. He opened the lock and hurried towards Riya’s desk to answer the call. An urgent voice of a woman pounced on him, Would that be Mr. Froth?

You got the number right, he replied.

Thank God, I’ve got you. I am in great danger. Could I come and meet you right now? I need your help desperately, the woman spoke in one quick breath.

Excuse me, you haven’t given me your name--.

My name is Aaku. But please do let me see you at once!

Couldn’t we talk on the phone? It would save time.

That’s not possible. I am ringing from a public booth, and am being trailed, Aaku answered in a tense tone.

Warming up to the situation, Froth asked her to shake off her tail somehow and then taxi to his office. She took down the address and promised to meet him in about three-fourths of an hour. Apparently, she was not very far from the office. Richard looked at his watch. It was a quarter to nine.

The growing hunger pangs he felt, made him decide to walk down to the nearby restaurant which apparently was doing brisk business at this hour of the night. There were only a couple of unoccupied tables. He waved to a waiter who recognized him and walked over.

More people entered the restaurant. They were two couples who walked in laughing, probably having shared a joke. Richard was thankful that he was not a married man yet. A whole lot of explanations would be required to make his wife understand circumstances like today’s late night.

The waiter brought his order of sandwiches and a hamburger. Anything else, sir? he asked.

Thank you. Yes, a cup of coffee, please.

The food and coffee warmed him up. It had been half an hour since he came here. Having paid the bill, he started walking back to the office, while keeping an eye for a taxi with a woman.

The two-storied office building was in darkness except for his glowing office light. He had left it on in case the woman arrived before he was back. He had also told Shrestha, the Nepalese watchman, to keep track if anybody came visiting him.

Anybody for me, Shrestha? he inquired.

No, Sir. I have been here all the time.

Okay, thank you, Richard said casually.

There was a mild chill in the wind outside. His room was getting cold and he switched on the heater. Lighting his pipe, he settled down comfortably in his chair, feeling relaxed in the stillness of the night engulfed by the four walls of the room.

It had nearly been an hour since the time the women named Aaku had contacted him. There was still no sign of her. Was it a hoax call?, he wondered. But the voice on the telephone had a note of urgency and fear. Doubts were now arising in the mind as he was getting impatient with the wait.

Richard was pacing around the room when the telephone bell rang, and he jumped for the receiver. It turned out to be a wrong number. His watch showed the time as half past ten, which meant that more than an hour and a half had passed since the call. Feeling tired and restless, he impulsively decided to pack up for the day, giving up the call as a phony one.

On reaching home, he had a quick wash and went to bed. The excited and nervous voice of the woman came back to him. He composed his nerves and gradually forgot the world.

The persistent knock at the door, woke Richard. Cursing, he got up. It was three fifteen according to the clock on the bedside stool. Wondering who could come at this unearthly hour, he went to the front door and put his eye to the key-hole. It was the police.

He opened the door, Hello, something the matter? He sleepily addressed the police officer while tying the knot of his dressing gown.

Sorry to disturb you at this odd time. By the way, your front door bell doesn’t seem to work.

Yes, I disconnect it before going to sleep. I don’t like to be disturbed in the middle of the night.

Well, I am Inspector Hasan, and this is my colleague Inspector Basit. And you, I presume, are Richard Froth? the Inspector spoke in an official tone.

You got the name right. Please step in. I’m sure this must be something very urgent that could not have waited till morning,