The Rose Behind the Verdict - The Dead Man’s Last Night - Part 10

 Leela collapsed before anyone could reach her accusation further.

Mira and Dev carried her to the sofa while Sarojini brought water. Harish demanded a doctor, then demanded silence, then demanded explanations—all with equal authority and little success.

Arindam allowed the confusion for exactly one minute.

Then he struck the table once with the butt of Raghav’s old revolver.

“Enough.”

The room obeyed.

“Leela will rest. No one leaves this hall.”

Niraj, now oddly enjoying himself, stood near the bolted door like a clerk of doom.

Arindam turned to the trembling servant.

“Your name?”

“Gopal, sahib.”

“How long have you served this family?”

“Twenty-seven years.”

“Then you were here the night Raghav Bishan died.”

Gopal began to weep.

“Yes.”

“It was said he died in sleep.”

Gopal shook his head violently.

“No, sahib. He fell in the study after drinking milk.”

Sarojini closed her eyes.

Harish barked, “Lies from a servant!”

Arindam ignored him.

“Poison?”

“I do not know. But master clutched his throat. I heard him call one name before he fell.”

“Whose name?”

Gopal looked terrified.

“Mira-bibi.”

All eyes turned to Mira.

She stood frozen, face drained of life.

Mira whispered, “No...”

Harish seized the chance.

“There! There is your snake.”

“Sit down,” said Arindam without looking at him.

Harish, astonishingly, did.

“Mira,” Arindam said gently, “did you give your father milk that night?”

“Yes.”

“By your own hand?”

“Yes.”

“Did you poison it?”

“No!”

The answer came with tears and fury.

“I only carried the tray. Aunt Sarojini prepared it, as she often did.”

Now every gaze shifted again.

Sarojini remained composed.

“I boiled the milk,” she said. “Nothing more.”

“Why did Raghav call Mira’s name?” asked Arindam.

“Because he trusted no one else enough to accuse,” Harish said quickly.

“Or,” Arindam replied, “because she was the last person he saw.”

He paced slowly.

“Yet if Mira were guilty, why remain in this house under the same suspicion for two years? Why summon a detective now?”

No one answered.

He faced Dev next.

“You returned from London last week. Why now?”

Dev hesitated.

“Because someone wrote to me saying Leela was in danger.”

“Who wrote?”

Dev looked toward Sarojini.

The widow said nothing.

Niraj murmured, “This family communicates only through secrets and stationery.”

Arindam smiled faintly, then became serious.

“The poisoning, the false locked-room tricks, the staged shooting, the missing bride—these are not separate crimes. They are the same hand trying to protect an older crime.”

He walked to Harish.

“You inherited control after Raghav’s death.”

Harish lifted his chin.

“As elder brother, naturally.”

“You also pushed Leela’s marriage.”

“For the family.”

“You kept the key to the study.”

“Yes.”

“You accused Dev before seeing the weapon.”

Harish’s jaw tightened.

Arindam leaned closer.

“You are either a fool... or frightened.”

Before Harish could answer, Leela, half-conscious on the sofa, spoke weakly:

“Check the chapel ledger... under the altar.”

Arindam turned at once.

“What is in it?”

She opened her eyes.

“The payment... for Father’s death.”