Red Ribbons (Chapter Seven) part 1

Posted on | Sunday, August 7, 2011 | No Comments

Chapter Seven (Part 1)

“Death was definitely due to strangulation; she died sometime between 11.00pm and 11.30pm yesterday,” Dr. Chin told Venkath. “The murder weapon was a fabric of some kind measuring about half an inch thick, just like in the Alicia Ling case,” he added.


“Were there red fibres on the body?” Venkath asked.

“Yes, there were some embedded in the ligature wounds, but I found none elsewhere on the body. She didn’t have any defensive wounds either. But she did have an RM1 note folded into a pyramid inside her purse. Her identification card was missing too.”


“Thanks for the update Dr. Chin. Please call me if you find anything else,” Venkath said before hanging up.


He looked around the hotel room. A police officer was dusting the door knob for fingerprints, while another was searching the bathroom. Shoba’s things were scattered on the bed, just the way she had left it. It had always amazed him how meticulously put together she had always looked, yet was steadfastly untidy with her belongings.

“Sir, we found this taped to the underside of the bathroom sink,” said the officer who had been checking the bathroom. He handed a slightly damp white envelope to Lawrence.

“Here, it’s addressed to you,” Lawrence said, extending the envelope to Venkath. Venkath put on a pair of plastic gloves handed to him by one of the officers and took the envelope. His name was written on the front. The handwriting was Shoba’s. He opened the envelope and to his surprise, there was a key inside. There was no note inside.


“What’s it for?” Lawrence asked.

“It’s the key to a bank safety deposit box,” Venkath said, raising an eyebrow.

“Which bank?”

“Bank of ----. She must have known something and left this for me in case anything happened to her,” Venkath shook his head sadly.

“Come on cuz, let’s go find out who did this,” Lawrence said, placing his hand on Venkath’s shoulder.


The bank manager was a short, portly man of about fifty, with a slight squint. A worried look came over his pug-like face when Lawrence showed him his police badge.

“Good afternoon, Inspector. How may I help you?”

“Hello, Danny. We’re here to look for a safety deposit box by one Shoba Muthu,” Lawrence said.


“Certainly, Inspector. Give me a minute while I check our system,” the manager said.

The manager tapped away at the computer for a few minutes; agonizing minutes for Venkath, who felt that too much time had already been wasted. “Could you hurry up?” he said impatiently.

“We don’t have a Shoba Muthu in our system, but we do have a Shoba Das,” the manager said a little crossly.


“Yes, that's her. She must have used her married name. I'm her husband,” Venkath said.

“My condolences to you sir,” the manager looked sympathetic.

The manger escorted Venkath and Lawrence into the safety deposit vault, where he opened locker no. 5605. Venkath's heart pounded as the manager opened the box. What had Shoba left for him?

The box was empty save for a single roll of red ribbon. Lawrence put on a pair of gloves and picked it up. The ends of the ribbon had frayed, leaking fibres that looked very much like the red fibres that were found on Alicia and Shoba's bodies, he thought.

“Looks like she found the murder weapon,” he said.

Venkath looked at his cousin, realisation dawning on his face.

“What is it?” Lawrence asked.

“I know who killed them,” Venkath said.















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