The Bard of Blood Read Online Free PDF Page A

refuse coffee.
    The Chief pressed a button on his desk and asked
for two cups of coffee. Almost immediately, an orderly came running in with a tray with two cups of
steaming coffee. He asked Joshi if he should bring in something to eat. Joshi looked at Kabir, who
declined. Joshi thanked the orderly and sent him away, and then looking towards Kabir clasped his
hands together, making a let’s-get-down-to-business gesture.
    ‘I’m sorry about the little hiccups
we had earlier this evening,’ Joshi said.
    ‘Let’s cut to the chase
already.’
    He stared at Kabir’s inscrutable face for a
moment before he broke the news to him.
Sadiq Sheikh was shot dead last night
. Kabir closed
his eyes and breathed in deeply when he heard it. His throat had gone dry all of a sudden, his
stomach lurched. A slideshow of repressed memories flashed through his mind. But his face remained
expressionless in the moments of silence that ensued. It is impossible to judge a person’s
feelings by his countenance. Joshi knew that Kabir was hurt deeply, even though his face did not
betray any such emotion.
    ‘Before dying,’ Joshi continued, as
he adjusted his spectacles, ‘he left a message through a concealed transmitter in his
wristwatch.’
    He then went on to play the message by tapping a
button on a small Sony recorder. Kabir listened silently to the audio. There was a lot of static
throughout the recording. The voice of the killer was almost inaudible, and Sadiq’s voice
could just barely be deciphered.
    Of all the wonders that I yet have
heard,
    It seems to me most strange that men should
fear;
    Seeing that death, a necessary end,
    Will come when it will come.
    And then the muffled gunshot was heard.
    Act 2, Scene 2,
Julius Caesar
, Kabir
recalled instantly.
    ‘The bad sound quality is because of the
scramblers present in the room,’ Joshi explained. ‘The killer was careful. He suspected
Sadiq might have left his phone on in his pocket, which I’m glad he didn’t. Had he done
that instead, we wouldn’t have gotten even this piece. The phone wasn’t found on his
body anyway. The techs are still working on the other man’s voice. I’ll tell you more
about that when I get to know.’
    ‘Why didn’t he name his killer in the
conversation, if he was transmitting,’ Kabir asked, swallowing his coffee, in an attempt to do
something about his dry throat.
    Joshi shrugged. ‘The killer would know for
certain then—that he was trying to leave us a message. He knew he was going to die and
didn’t want to take the chance of not letting his message get to us.’
    Kabir just sat silently, scratching his stubble.
He couldn’t quite decide on a single emotion. Joshi continued to explain.
    ‘When the message popped up on our
computers this morning, it took us a while to figure out what had happened.’
    ‘That doesn’t surprise me,’
Kabir said sourly. Joshi ignored the jibe.
    ‘When we did figure out that Sadiq
quoted Shakespeare, we realized it was because he was trying to tell us something.’
    Joshi paused. He needed to be careful how he
approached the subject from here.
    He continued, ‘It’s common knowledge
in the Wing that Sadiq Sheikh had a young protégé in the Military Intelligence, who was
asked to leave due to certain circumstances that went out of hand. There are various versions of the
tale floating around. But apparently, he now teaches Shakespeare at a college in Mumbai.’
    ‘And why is he here now?’
    ‘Look, Kabir. I wasn’t Chief when you
were serving our country. I didn’t know the finer details about what happened in Balochistan
until I looked up your files and your impressive track record. Rumour has it that you turned on us
and that may have gotten Vikramjit Singh killed. But Sadiq didn’t believe that. And I believed
in Sadiq.’
    Kabir cleared his throat and then looked at the
clock. It was closing in on eleven.
    ‘That still doesn’t answer my
question.’
    ‘We need your assistance,’ Joshi