2: The Funeral

A flex board stood to the left of the mansion entrance, bearing the inscription: "In Loving Memory of Mr. Raghupathi," along with a smiling photograph and his birth and death dates. The mansion held a somber, welcoming atmosphere as mourners arrived. A throng of people, including politicians, business magnates, film stars, and others from Raghupathi's wide circle of acquaintances, filled the space.

Raghupathi's body, shrouded in white cloth, lay in a freezer box in the center of the hall, facing south. Cotton plugs filled his nostrils, and vibhuti marked his forehead. His toes were bound together, a traditional custom believed to prevent the departed soul from re-entering the body. A garland of flowers adorned his neck, and a lit clay lamp flickered near his head.

A traditional wake was in progress. Mourners kept vigil. Karthik stood silently by a pillar, staring at his father's face, his mind replaying childhood memories and cherished moments shared since his mother's death when he was six. Every detail resurfaced in his thoughts.

Siri, Rishi, and several of Karthik's friends tried to comfort him. One friend, Varun, wore a bandage on his head.

Relatives and well-wishers honored Raghupathi with flowers and garlands, offering words of comfort to Karthik. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, each person offering their own theory about Raghupathi's death.

"I heard Raghu was deeply in debt, so he committed suicide."

"His business rivals might have murdered him."

"He drank too much and fell from the top of his own construction site."

As the wake concluded, the casket was removed, and the body transferred to a wooden bier, draped in white cloth and adorned with flowers, ready for its final journey. Karthik, dressed in a white dhoti and with a white cloth draped over his shoulders, carried the pot of fire to ignite the funeral pyre. He and the bier were moved to the hearse, accompanied by Siri, Rishi, and a few relatives. Other mourners followed in cars and on motorcycles to the crematorium. The media trailed behind, eager for an exclusive story.

The chief mourner officiated at the cremation, circling the pyre three times counter-clockwise, keeping the body to his left. Karthik then set the pyre ablaze. He, Siri, Rishi, and a few close friends and family remained until the body was entirely consumed by the flames. The rest of the mourners left as soon as the fire was lit.

As the last vestiges of his father disappeared, Karthik's grief overwhelmed him. Tears streamed down his face, and he wept uncontrollably. Siri held his hand tightly, offering silent support.

Dusk fell. Only Karthik, Siri, and his closest friends remained at the crematorium.

The doorbell rang. Siri opened the door to find the Sub Inspector and Chari standing there.

Siri's face paled.

"Hello, Ma'am," the Sub Inspector greeted her.

Siri offered a nervous "namaste" before inviting them into the mansion.

Karthik entered the hall, his face drawn.

"I'll get coffee for you," Siri said to the officers, making brief eye contact with Karthik. He barely acknowledged her. She went to the kitchen. Karthik gestured for the Sub Inspector to sit on the luxurious sofa. Siri returned quickly with coffee. Chari finished his in one gulp, as if in a hurry. The Sub Inspector sipped his coffee slowly. Siri and Karthik sat opposite him, their expressions apprehensive. The officer glanced around the hall. To his left hung a collection of photo frames, spanning Karthik's childhood and youth. Photos of his deceased parents occupied the central positions.

"How many people live in this mansion, Mr. Karthik?" the Sub Inspector asked, sipping his coffee.

"It was just me and my father," Karthik replied.

"Besides the two of you?"

"Shekar and a few other servants."

Before the officer could inquire about Shekar, Karthik added, "Shekar is our cook. He's been with us since my mother's death."

"Is he here now?"

Siri interjected, "I wanted to be with Karthik during this difficult time and take care of him. His presence didn't seem necessary, so I asked him to take leave."

The Sub Inspector smirked. "Hmmm! Privacy..."

Karthik bristled. Siri squeezed his hand. He looked at her, and she widened her eyes in warning. The Sub Inspector observed their interaction.

"It's not like that, Officer," Karthik began to explain.

The Sub Inspector rose and walked to a nearby window.

"No, no, no need to explain. I understand." He turned back to Karthik. "Let me return to my earlier questions. You didn't answer them." He glanced at them through the reflection in the window. "You said you slept at Siri's house that night."

The Sub Inspector smirked. "You were with her? At her house?"

Karthik glared at him.

Siri spoke up. "That evening, Karthik and I went to a pub, and he got very drunk. For his safety, I took him to my place."

The Sub Inspector, still watching them in the window's reflection, shook his head. "Safety!" He turned to them. "Did Mr. Raghupathi know about you two?"

"No. I was about to tell him," Siri replied.

The officer looked at them. "What about suicide?"

"I don't think so," Karthik said.

"Any suspects?"

Karthik shook his head.

"Well, thank you for the coffee and the information." The Sub Inspector placed his cup on a nearby table. He and Chari left the mansion.

Karthik and Siri watched them go.

"Did someone kill my dad?" Karthik asked.

Siri looked at him, her eyes filled with fear.

Sitting in the driver's seat of a government vehicle, Chari asked, "Sir, do you believe what they said?"

"What they said is partly true, but not entirely. They admitted to going to the pub, but they didn't mention the fight that broke out there," the Sub Inspector replied.