Who’s the culprit?

Dr. Yakov’s butler had run screaming back to the kitchen that Wednesday after going to give his master his morning bed coffee. He had found Dr. Yakov lying dead in his rocking chair, with the window open behind him. The driver called up the police immediately. Inspector Clow, who was heading the investigation, started questioning the frightened servants one by one.

“What’s your name?” started Clow, to the butler shivering in fright. “Juice… no, Bruce”, he stammered. “What are shivering like that for? Are you the one who killed him?” asked Inspector Clow, amused. “No, I have done no such thing! God knows I am innocent! You’re all out here to frame me!” cried the butler hysterically, flailing his arms around.

The cook came forward and dragged him into a chair where he sat looking quite crazy. “Forgive him, Sir, he is very sensitive and works himself up into a frenzy over small things”, said the driver. “I’ll answer all your questions first. Maybe you can question Bruce later.”

The Inspector sighed. “Alright, tell me about what happened this morning. Who spotted Dr. Yakov’s dead body first?”

“It was Bruce, Sir. He had gone to give Dr. Yakov his breakfast in bed. He saw him lying dead in his armchair, clutching his chest with a mixed expression of pain and horror on his face”, said the driver.

“The window was found open. Has there been a burglary? Has anything gone missing from his room?” asked the Inspector next.“We can’t say for sure if something is missing, Sir. Everything looked undisturbed. And Dr.Yakov is in the habit of leaving his window open at night to let in some breeze”, said the driver.

“What do you think of his death? Is it a natural one, or do you think there is something fishy?”

The driver hesitated. “We hardly have enough knowledge to give you an opinion on that, Sir”, he said. “But I can definitely tell you that Dr. Yakov was in excellent health, without any ailment bothering him.”

“He’s a foreigner in these parts, isn’t he? How did he happen to settle down here in America?”

“Yes Sir, you’re right. Dr. Yakov is Russian, and an explorer. He had been to several parts of the world. He settled down here in the end because he started teaching at the university here.

However, he was quite active in research and in fact, he meant to present a very confidential and important paper at an international conference this coming week, which he said would make him world famous”, the driver said.

“But how could you know of all this? Surely, Dr. Yakov is not in the habit of discussing his confidential research secrets with his driver?”

“He does not discuss anything with me personally, Sir. But many a time, while driving the car, I have heard him discuss the same with his colleague, Dr. Berelson, who is also an explorer and researcher. They were very good friends and …. Well, here he is- Dr. Berelson himself!”

Inspector Clow looked up to find a short, bespectacled man coming towards him, looking grim and pained. “I can’t believe my friend is no more! Ah, my dear friend...” Dr. Berelson cried, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I beseech you, Inspector, please find out what exactly happened to my friend! He was so brilliant, and so wonderful… I can’t believe he’s gone!” he burst out into fresh sobs.

“Please compose yourself, Dr. Berelson”, said the Inspector, thinking what he could say to the hysterical pair in front of him. Just then the doctor came out of Dr.Yakov’s chamber after examining his body. “The patient died of a heart attack”, he declared, in a monotonous voice, bored with the number of corpse examinations he had done that day.

“But, he had no symptoms of heart disease! He used to get his blood tests done frequently and they were always normal!” cried the cook. “Well, how can you doubt the words of a professional?” said the Doctor, who became quite annoyed. “If you are all that keen to make his death a murder, go ahead. I’m going!” he said, leaving in a huff.

However, he remembered to dump the report of the medical examination into Inspector Clow’s hands before leaving. “Well, he must have died of a heart attack then”, said Dr. Berelson. “My poor Yakov, I wonder what worried him so that his heart failed!”

Inspector Clow now turned to Dr. Berelson. “How well do you know Dr.Yakov?”

Before Dr. Berelson could say a word, the cook chimed in. “Oh, they have been friends for more than a decade now! Why, there is nothing about Dr. Yakov that Dr. Berelson does not know! His daily routine, his work habits, everything- is known to Dr. Berelson. They have been all over the world together - to the Mediterranean, to the Galapagos islands, to India, to Africa—”

Dr. Berelson silenced the cook with a frown. Then he turned to Inspector Clow with a sad smile on his face. “Inspector, I am sure you have a lot to ask me, but now that the doctor himself has said that Yakov died of a heart attack, we should bury him with due respects. There is no point in cutting open a dead man again and again to prove baseless rumours. I think your services are in fact, no longer needed.”

“But now a case has been registered, Dr. Berelson”, said Clow, getting up. “I cannot stop the investigation midway. I would prefer that none of you disturb me as I inspect Dr. Yakov’s chamber.” Saying thus, he went to examine Dr. Yakov’s body himself. Everything seemed to be just like the servants had told him- nothing had been disturbed. He gently examined Dr. Yakov’s body for any marks of violence.

He could find only a tiny puncture mark under the ear, on the neck, as if a syringe needle had been inserted there. He checked the medical report. There was a single line mentioning the puncture mark calling it insignificant. Clow turned towards the window. It was a large one, overlooking the bushy undergrowth and dense foliage which seemed to grow wild in the garden.

He wondered if it was the bite of an insect or an animal that could have caused Yakov’s death. He had read of so many poisonous animals and plants which— he stopped in his tracks as he remembered something. On a hunch, he bent down on the ground looking for something. He found it and pocketed it.

When he went out, he ordered that Dr. Yakov’s blood and organ samples as well as the object he had picked up from Dr. Yakov’s room be tested for the presence of poisonous chemicals. The next day, Dr. Berelson found Inspector Clow at his doorstep with a pair of handcuffs.

“I hereby arrest you on the charge of murdering Dr. Yakov by using a poisonous blow-dart, aimed through the open window”, said Inspector Clow. “Jealousy led you to kill your friend to steal his fame, eh?”

Berelson’s face turned ashen-white. “You have no proof! Why, the doctor said he died of a heart attack!” he shrieked.

“I have enough evidence against you”, said Clow calmly. “Dr. Yakov’s important research paper is missing, which, I’m sure, will be found here in your possession.

The poison-smeared blow dart that you used to cause the heart attack has been recovered. Traces of the same poison have been found in his blood. And since this rare poison- Ouabain- is found only in plants native to Africa, who else could be the culprit, if not you?”

By:Sneha Verghese