“And then there was this whole screaming episode?”
“Yes, of course. That’s how all the neighbours got to know.”
“Well, thank God she wasn’t in Bates motel, otherwise nobody would’ve heard her at all.”
The whole table broke into an uneasy laughter.
“What a fine movie – Psycho! Great for its time. Although dubbed as Hitchcock’s finest, I would always go with Rope. You guys seen American Psycho? I think it’s a great tribute to Psycho. They even have a homage in the naming of the anti-hero – Patrick Bateman, Norman Bates. I doubt people noticed that. Brilliant movie! Christian Bale! My God! The kind of shit movies that come out of India though.”
“I beg to disagree, sir. The OTT platforms have shown us how great Indian cinema can…”
“Beg, then.”
“Sir?”
“Why don’t you fucking beg? You said you beg to disagree? Well, I don’t see any begging.”
“Well, sir, it’s a figure of speech if you will.”
“Shut up! Goddamn you! Who the hell do you think you are, walking into my conference room and talking over me?! Huh? How many years you been in Delhi? Huh? I was 30 when I was gowned Senior you know? 34 when I made Attorney General! You were still sniffing panties in college back then. Get outta here! Get out!”
Daphtary was shuddering from the morning rage, but he liked it. It was how he liked to begin his morning briefings. It is what made Daphtary V., Daphtary V.! Nobody really knew what V. stood for. Nobody dared ask. Speculations were that it was Venkatraman, or Venkatesh, or Venktaeshwar. For all that’s worth a lawyer’s imagination, some even speculated it was Vidal, after Daphtary’s favourite author, Gore Vidal. But everybody knew what Daphtary stood for – the law. Everybody also knew where the name Daphtary came from. He was, as people would say, born for this.
“Chakraborty!” Daphtary hollered at his secretary. “Where the hell is my buzz?!” He meant his morning shot of vodka. Daphtary was all about the style, the way he moved, the way he spoke, the way he carried himself. The first time he briefed the great Ram Jethmalani, it was his manner of speaking more than his legal acumen that really caught Jethmalani’s eye. Daphtary had, since his college days, adopted the Boston Brahmin accent in order to differentiate himself from his peers. A lawyer, must, he thought, have their own dictum, manner of speaking, since after all, lawyers were paid for their speech. Perhaps, Mr. Jethmalani thought, this guy has something going for him. And that was big for Daphtary. But he never let that overshadow his Homeric legal acumen and knowledge about literally anything. There was nothing in this small world, that escaped the eyes and ears of Daphtary V. That’s what made him the best criminal lawyer in the country.
But Daphtary was more than just Daphtary now. He was now an establishment. He was the new Ram Jethmalani. The Devil’s advocate, an agent provocateur, a morally bankrupt intellectual – a threat to society but at the same time, its only saviour. He even hung up a huge portrait of Roy Cohn at the entrance of his chambers, just to piss people off. He had nothing in common with Roy Cohn. He just liked, provoking people. Daphtary’s integrity was beyond question for anybody in the Supreme Court and in the entire legal fraternity. Perhaps, the agent provocateur bit then. And the disdain for human beings.
“Now Mr. Agarwalla, we have had enough of the facts. Facts as you know, bore me. I practise in the Supreme Court. I’m more concerned with law than the facts. Facts are for the small-timers in Rohini. That’s how things get fucked up anyways. If these buggers did their jobs well down in Chinatown Rohini, we wouldn’t be here with this mess. Justice Roy is a fair judge and he will listen to every fair point put in front of him.” Daphtary said, calmer than before, with his vodka shots in front of him. He took the two shots like it was supposed to be – quick and without remorse. He followed this with an Ash Gourd juice and a plate of fruits. His lunch would be heavier than most people’s and he would couple it with two pegs of whisky. Evenings would be again followed by a healthy vegetable juice. And then an early light supper with champagne. Daphtary always thrived in chaos. But he believed in disciplining his chaos.
“Yes, he sure is a fair judge. Well, sir, I think we ought not to be worried all that much given the High Court’s very well-reasoned judgement of conviction.” said one of the briefing counsels in the conference room. The room was now packed with five of them. Each word they said was carefully measured, each joke well crafted, to the extent of Daphtary’s tolerance of stupidity.
“Look. This Chibber fella, he sure as hell is guilty. Both the trial court and High Court have agreed that there was motive. The act of killing is way disconnected in time from the point of motive so that destroys the exceptions under 300 IPC. It wasn’t a single stab either so that very well takes care of the exceptions again. Was it a single stab?”
“No, it wasn’t. Multiple stabs.”
“So that’s it! They are already cornered. No grave and sudden provocation, no private defence, no exercise of legal power and definitely premeditation. This Chibber fella is a psycho wife killer! I was just worried about it being a single blow you know, because that would have put us in a hazy area, because the Courts have been over the years, here and there about death caused by a single blow. But I think Stalin v. State should take care of that as well.” Daphtary declared. His mind was roaring this morning. He hadn’t lost a case in three years. “So, unless any one of you feel like tantalising me with your own opinions which I doubt you can, given the pigeon brains you were born with, I’d suggest you scram.” Dapthary was now exuberant, roaring with his very famous dorky guffaw.
Another briefing counsel cut into Daphtary’s laughter, trembling as he spoke (he was after all, trying to place doubt in the mind of the great Daphtary V), “But P.W. 4, Mr. V, that’s who I’m really worried about. She says she never heard any screaming. And she lived right across, hardly 200 metres from the Chibber place. Of course, both the lower courts discou…”
“Well then we have nothing to worry about Pranay. The Prosecution had very well established the case and the lower courts are in agreement. She won’t make a difference. A woman was stabbed to death for God’s sake and three other witnesses heard the screaming. Obviously, there was screaming. The chain of evidence has already been well established. The witnesses have stood through the test of time and trial. I don’t think there’s much I need to do except show my face to Justice Roy.”
“Yes, but Mr. V., the murder weapon was never found as you might know. It was only deduced by the forensic investigations. The entire case was established on witness testimonies. Circumstantial. Purely.”
The atmosphere in the room had changed by now. For the first time in many years, Daphtary V. was made to think by a junior briefing counsel. Dapthary even noticed one junior folding up his sleeves, which he took offence to, in his mind. But he couldn’t give into some junior’s idea. Not him. Not until Dapthary V. was dead, no.
Dapthary snapped back, now with his hands on the table, “I see what you’re saying Pranay, but I simply cannot agree. As I’ve said, and you have read the impugned judgements, the Courts have well appreciated the witness testimonies. There was obviously screaming. Whenever someone is stabbed there is screaming, as you might have seen in Psycho and read in millions of other books and watched in millions of other movies. There was the stabbing and then there was the screaming and then Mr. Chibber was found in the house by his neighbours with the dead Mrs. Chibber. People heard the screaming and hence they rushed to the home to see what had happened. Let’s not make a hoopla about the whole affair. I won’t entertain any further discussion on this. See you fellas in court tomorrow.”
“Alright sir.” the junior counsels sang in consonance. “We will see you in court tomorrow.” The juniors didn’t make the doubt any more eminent as they couldn’t have.
“Yes.” As the people were crowding out of the conference room, Dapthary remarked from the back, “I hear S.S. is appearing on behalf of Mr. Chibber. Did you guys see? He got married recently. Hope he doesn’t leave his tongue behind in London.”
The whole room erupted in laughter. That is how Dapthary usually ended his conferences, with his inimitable wit and drama like dialogues. It is what made Dapthary V., Dapthary V.
“Now scram all of you and don’t show me your asses unless you wanna get spanked.”
***
“My Lords will see State of Rajasthan v. Shera Ram, wherein this Hon’ble Court has held that unless there is a glaring perversity of facts or law in the impugned judgement of conviction or acquittal, this Hon’ble Court ought not to interfere. More importantly, this Hon’ble Court has also noted that there is a fine line of difference between an appeal against an acquittal and an appeal against a conviction, the difference being that when it is an appeal against acquittal, the Court ought to presume the innocence of the accused at the appellate stage. But I’d go even further than that, if my Lords permit me to. I humbly submit that if that is the case with an appeal against acquittal, then when it is an appeal against conviction, the accused ought to be presumed guilty by the appellate court.”
“My Lords, that is not in the reading of the judgement. I too have read it. I do not find any remote suggestion regarding what my learned friend is pleading.” SaumyaShankaran thundered, in his baritone voice. A man held in higher regard than anyone else in the country. India’s very own Clarence Darrow.
“Yes, my friend. It is my interpretation for the court. Both the lower courts have tried the accused at length and haven’t placed an iota of doubt on the witnesses. The impugned judgement of the Delhi High Court is in fact, quite remarkable. Very well-reasoned judgement. And it is not a perverse interpretation as my Lords will see, since this Hon’ble Court had very finely laid down the thin red line.”
Dapthary was on a roll. He had been on a roll for 23 years now. Failure had been a stranger to Dapthary V. ever since he started out. He couldn’t stand the sight of failure and people who fail. For him, they just don’t try hard enough. His father was a failure all his life. It’s what always drove Dapthary V. He always believed in drive over anything else. As a young kid, he read the lives of great people and understood that they all were tragic figures who were trying to overcome some sort of personal loss or failing through their work. That is what drove those people to do great work and to eventual greatness. Dapthary was all about the drive.
He was now in the courtroom, drunk as usual, reeling from a back ache he had been having from the stressful tennis lessons at Gymkhana the week before, and was reeling inside at the thought of six more hearings for the day. He just wanted to get done here. On days like these, he would kill himself for choosing law but then would remember the drive, the why of things, why he chose to become a lawyer in the first place.
The bench had now eased into the case and Justice Roy was in a happier mood than usual. Justice Parikh didn’t really matter. He majorly slept through the cases, choosing not to ask any questions. He was one of those few judges who did not want to end up on the Supreme Court bench but was forced to because of his immense intellect and not to forget, his superior connections. As the entire Bar would say about him, his daddy planted a tree so big that many Junior Parikhs could just be under its shadefor as long as the world revolved around the sun.
“It would be the case if and I’d completely agree with my learned friend here if there were no perversity of facts or law. But I’d like to submit that there is perversity of facts at the lower courts, hence giving rise to perversity in law. Not that I’d blame the Hon’ble Judges in the lower courts because they weren’t aware of this fact. But new information has come to light my Lords. New information has come to light.” Shankaran repeated and stressed, in his calming voice, reflective of the saint that he was.
“And what is that new information Mr. Shankaran?” Justice Roy questioned.
“Well, it has to do with a lot of screaming.”
Dapthary was suddenly taken aback. The colour of his face changed now. He turned to look at his rival counsel, trying very to anticipate what he would say next. He hated surprises. He was clenching his jaw.
Shankaran continued, “My Lords will recall that P.W.1, 2 and 3 had testified that they had heard screaming at exactly 2:30 a.m. in the night of 9th January, 2009. P.W. 4 however, had not. She had testified that there was no screaming and that she had rushed to the scene of crime only after hearing a certain commotion outside her house and when she saw two people outside, i.e., P.W. 1 and 3. My Lords, it is my humble submission that there was no screaming.”
“And it is my humble submission my Lords that North Korea is a democracy.” Dapthary quipped, in a confused state of mind, not knowing what was happening. Humour was his defence mechanism. He enjoyed humour. It sharpened his brain, kept him on his feet. But today it was different. He didn’t enjoy the joke all that much although the whole court room had erupted into laughter. And it was never a good sign when Dapthary V. didn’t enjoy the jokes of Daphtary V.
“I don’t need to remind a senior counsel such as yourself Mr. V. the etiquette to be followed in this court-room. Please don’t interfere during the opposite counsel’s submissions.” Justice Roy now put on a very sombre face; his eyes already bloodshot from overwork.
Dapthary apologized and stepped back a bit. But he didn’t like how the energy in the court-room was changing. It was like somebody was at his throat, and he was in a room with no windows or doors.
Shankaran continued unabated, keeping his poise, “Yes, my Lords, it may shock you and my learned friend here but there was no screaming. No screaming at all. The testimonies of P.W.1, 2 and 3 which have found an overbearing reliance in the trial and in the impugned judgement are false. There never was any screaming. My Lords, when a knife is stabbed into someone, the person doesn’t scream. In this case, not only was the trachea damaged, but the first two stabs were directly into the heart therefore disabling the deceased from screaming at all. The stabbing didn’t only damage the important organs of the deceased but it did so immediately, because it was done so from very close. When that happens, the person stabbed usually lets out a gasp, an “Ah!” more than a screaming. In this case, the incident was reported to have happened at around 2:30 in the night and the deceased was reported dead at 2:33 in the night. If there was no screaming at the moment of the stabbing there surely was no screaming thereafter. Therefore, it is my humble submission that the witness testimonies of P.W.1, 2 and 3 are false and must be reappreciated. It is also my humble submission that the conviction be overturned since as you have noted the lower courts have placed the decision of conviction entirely on the witness testimonies of P.W.1, 2 and 3. That being false makes the impugned judgement fit for quashing.”
“I appreciate what you are saying Mr. Shankaran but then how could have 3 witnesses misheard at the same time?” Justice Roy inquired. He was now well-directed in his hearing and was swayed by Shankaran’s argument.
“Chances are they didn’t hear anything at all my Lords. Chances are that they thought they had heard the screaming because people are accustomed to the false information that people scream after being stabbed, probably because of pop culture. Chances are they were the ones involved in the crime but we cannot obviously go into that at this stage. Chances also are that whoever stabbed the deceased that night, played a recording of a screaming right after in order to implicate the accused, Mr. Chibber. What we do know for sure was that there was no screaming and hence the entire witness testimonies of P.W. 1, 2 and 3 must be reappreciated, discarded and the conviction overturned. We have here, a Rashomon case my Lords.” Shankaran ended his arguments, slapping his notes to the dais. He looked at Dapthary, who had by now turned pale. Dapthary was sweating by now.
“Anything you have to say in conclusion Mr. V.?”
Dapthary couldn’t speak for his life in that moment. His entire life was flashing by before him. He knew why it was flashing by, because his entire life’s work would be defined by this very moment, everything encapsulated into one moment. He was so full of shame and rage in that moment. He was thinking about the first time he had picked up the Indian Penal Code when he was 10, and the first time he had won a bail order for his client and the first time he had made it to the papers. And of course, he was thinking about Janet Leigh in that washroom murder scene from Psycho.
“My Lords, it seems like Mr. V. has left his tongue in his chambers.” Shankaran jibed at him, in front of the whole court-room, which was brimming with laughter by now.
Dapthary felt that the only thing that would relieve him of the moment was…a scream.
