Murder mystery: Lakshmi Krishnamurthi is missing, and so is a Rs-5-crore painting from her home

It was Suzy Wuzy who informed the police about Mrs Krishnamurthi. The beat constable arrived on his bike a few minutes after her call. It was already dark, around 8 pm. This particular lane in Greater Kailash-II was deep in the shadows. Suzy and he had a quick chat near her gate and then he sped off.

Vikas was a tall cop from Rajasthan, who had endeared himself to all the older people in the colony because he regularly checked up on them. He had an easygoing, affable manner and was happy to chat while being fed samosas or kachoris, kaju barfis or jalebis, Marie biscuits and nankhatais, till his cellphone began to buzz and he would have to apologize and rush off but only after he had eaten enough, even taken a second helping, and had the mandatory cup of tea.

The police jeep had arrived late last night with its siren blaring and the light on the roof revolving crazily. Mrs M had pulled her bedroom curtains apart and stood behind them, peeping out at the house across the road. She saw two older, perhaps more senior police officers get out of the jeep, hoist up pants that had sunk…

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