The House That Let No One In - The Man Everyone Needed Dead - Part 7
By evening, Shantiniket House had changed from a residence into a battlefield disguised as mourning.
Every discovery now pointed somewhere—and nowhere.
A hidden flue suggested planning.
The poisoned mint suggested access.
The false timeline suggested calculation.
And the torn note naming Naina Malhotra suggested either guilt… or deliberate accusation.
Devendra Sen asked that all principal members gather once more in the drawing room.
Inspector Harish Mehta stood ready like a man eager to arrest whichever person spoke first.
Devendra began quietly.
“I have learned much about how Mr. Raghav Malhotra may have died. I would now like to know why so many people wished it.”
No one answered.
So he turned first to Naina.
“Madam, were you planning to leave your husband?”
Her fingers tightened slightly on the armrest.
“Yes.”
Inspector Mehta leaned forward.
“When?”
“I had already rented an apartment. I intended to leave next month.”
“Why wait?” asked Devendra.
“Because he threatened to ruin my family financially if I left without settlement.”
“Did he strike you?”
She said nothing.
That silence answered enough.
Next he faced Arjun Malhotra.
“You owed money.”
Arjun laughed bitterly.
“Half the city does.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“Gambling?”
“Investments.”
“Debts to dangerous men?”
Arjun looked away.
Inspector Mehta snapped, “Answer!”
“Yes.”
“And your father refused help?”
“He said bankruptcy would improve my character.”
Devendra nodded. “Did he also intend to remove you from inheritance?”
Arjun’s face hardened.
“He said I would receive nothing unless I obeyed him.”
Kamini the housekeeper was next.
“You too had grievance?”
She began crying immediately.
“My brother worked in sir’s warehouse. There was an accident. Sir paid nothing. My brother became crippled.”
“Yet you stayed.”
“I needed wages.”
“Did you hate him?”
She whispered, “Every day.”
Mohan Lal stood pale when questioned.
“You served faithfully,” said Devendra. “Did you also resent him?”
The old valet trembled.
“Sir dismissed my son years ago on false theft charge. My son never recovered from shame.”
“Yet you remained.”
“Where would I go, sahib?”
Inspector Mehta muttered, “A house of saints.”
Then Devendra asked for records from the company office already delivered that afternoon.
Among them were legal drafts, unsigned.
One document proposed transferring controlling shares to an outside trustee.
Another intended immediate dismissal of Arjun from the board.
A third authorized sale of staff quarters, displacing several longtime employees.
Anil stared. “He was making enemies by paperwork alone.”
“Indeed,” said Devendra.
Then came the final name.
“Who is Suri?” asked the detective.
No one spoke.
Devendra placed a visiting card on the table.
Vikram Suri – Chartered Consultant
Naina looked sharply up.
Arjun cursed under his breath.
Inspector Mehta pounced. “You know him!”
Arjun snapped, “He handles shell companies and hidden accounts for half the rich men in this city.”
Devendra’s eyes narrowed.
“And for your father?”
“Yes.”
Naina added coldly, “He also blackmailed him.”
That changed the room.
“How?” asked the inspector.
She hesitated, then said, “Years ago, there was an industrial spill in one of the factories. Records were buried. Compensation denied. Suri managed the cover-up.”
“And now?”
“He wanted more money.”
Inspector Mehta smiled grimly. “Excellent. We arrest Suri.”
But Devendra shook his head.
“No. We understand him first.”
He walked slowly to the mantel.
“Mr. Malhotra was feared, hated, useful, wealthy, cruel, and vulnerable. Such men attract not one enemy, but circles of them.”
He turned back to the family.
“Each of you had motive.”
The silence that followed was thick as smoke.
Then Naina said calmly:
“If all of us wanted him dead, perhaps one of us merely arrived first.”
Even Inspector Mehta looked startled.
Before anyone could respond, a constable hurried in carrying fresh evidence recovered from the garage.
A burned paper fragment found in the ash drum.
The surviving words read:
...policy beneficiary: Naina Malhotra
The inspector looked triumphantly at the widow.
But Devendra’s expression remained unreadable.
“Interesting,” he said. “Another clue that appears exactly when needed.”
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