The Secret of The Cut Hand

It was around three in the afternoon. Bani had been feeling somewhat feverish since morning, so she had called her college and taken CL (Casual Leave) early in the day. After lunch, she was reading the newspaper when she started dozing off. The harsh sound of the doorbell broke her slumber, and she quickly got up. A parcel addressed to her had arrived by speed post—a large cardboard box wrapped in white paper. In bold black letters, it was labeled on top with, ‘Glass Material – Handle With Care’. She placed the box on the table and slowly cut along the edge of the board with a paper cutter. A whiff of the strong scent of Jovan Musk filled her nostrils.

The elongated object wrapped in plastic was further wrapped tightly with paraffin film. Being a lecturer in chemistry, Bani recognized the paraffin film immediately. As she carefully removed the thin layers of paraffin and peeled back the plastic, Bani's face turned completely pale...

Paroma lived alone on the upper floor of the Banis’ house. Her only son lived in Bangalore. Her husband had passed away ten years ago. Hearing Bani's scream, Paroma rushed downstairs. The stairs connecting the ground floor to the first floor started from the inner veranda and led upwards. Paroma, a calm and composed woman in her sixties, also shuddered at the sight of the object lying on the floor, partially emerging from the plastic and paraffin.

Due to her sweet and friendly nature, Paroma had quickly formed a close bond with Bani. She helped the sweating and terrified Bani to sit on the bed and gave her some water. Then, she went upstairs and called the local police station from her mobile. Living alone, her son had saved the local police station's number in her phone.

Soon, the local police station’s inspector-in-charge, Bahni, arrived at Paroma's house, ‘Amritkanan’, accompanied by SI Jayita. Bani was sitting with her face turned away, still showing clear signs of fear. Her eyes were filled with tears. Paroma had also informed Shovon, although she told him that Bani was unwell.

Wearing gloves, Bahni removed all the paraffin and plastic from the object. It was the severed hand of an unfortunate young man, cut slightly above the wrist. Before the forensic team could seize it, Bahni took a closer look. The scent of Jovan Musk from the box and the hand reached Bahni's nose.

She thought it was likely that the strong perfume had been sprayed to mask the smell of possible decay. After inspecting everything, Bahni surmised that the plastic and paraffin wrapping had been used to slow down the process of decay by keeping the hand almost completely out of contact with the oxygen in the air. The hand had been cut with a sharp machine cutter, cleanly and evenly below the elbow. Something peculiar caught Bahni's eye—the severed ends of the veins and arteries were burnt and fused together. Perhaps each open vein and artery had been individually cauterized using diathermy or another method to prevent bleeding. Often, assailants use ice to stop excessive bleeding, but Bahni had never seen anything like this before. She thought in surprise, This would be impossible without a precise understanding of anatomy!

A steel bracelet encircled the wrist. Bahni noticed the initials 'R' and 'D' engraved on it as she examined it closely with a magnifying glass. Could these be the initials of the boy's name and surname? The hand was strong and muscular, with thick knuckles that had developed calluses in some places. Bahni suspected that the boy might have been involved in martial arts or boxing. There were no signs of any rings on his fingers. Between the index and middle fingers were narrow, elongated white marks on both sides—marks that could have been caused by holding a cigarette between those fingers. Bahni thought, Did the boy smoke with his left hand?

Paroma spoke up, What a horrific act of brutality! It's terrifying! Is the person whose hand this is still alive, or was he killed, and then the hand was severed... Oh, my God!

Bahni replied, Vengeance is a strange mental illness. Just a few days ago, I handled a case where a husband received a severed finger of his missing wife by post every day. It's highly likely that this boy is no longer alive. Perhaps there is some unknown revenge motive behind this act.

Mrs. Dutta, I noticed that your name on the nameplate outside is written as Dr. Bani Dutta. But on the parcel, the address only says 'B. Dat'. There's no 'Dutta' or 'Dr.' written before the name. Do your letters usually arrive this way? Bahni asked.

Not at all. Everyone addresses me as 'Dr.' and 'Dutta' in their letters; this is the first time...

Sender: Sam S. Das, Kolkata – 91. Do you know him?

No.

How long have you been living here?

About a month.

During this time, have you received any letters at this address?

This parcel is the first thing we've received directly at this address. We haven't even had the time to properly settle in. We haven't informed many people of our new address yet. We've given our old post office the new address to redirect our mail for a few months. We just moved in after a brief puja.

Really? You don't know Sam S. Das, and no letter was supposed to be sent to you directly at this address! Then why did you accept the parcel?

Well... I had fallen asleep. Suddenly waking up, I was a bit disoriented. Seeing 'B. Dat' with sleepy eyes, I thought it was probably meant for me. Many people write 'Dutt' as 'Dat'. I didn’t think much about the address. I'm so confused, Madam! Please help me. Who played such a dreadful prank on me? Bani started sobbing again.

Calm down. Do you have any relatives or friends with initials 'R' and 'B' and who has six fingers on their left hand?

I can't recall anyone I know who has six fingers on one hand!

Paromadi, your surname is Sen, right? How long have you been living in this house? Do you know who lived here before?

Yes, it's Sen. Listen, Bahni, I'm speaking to you as a friend, please don't mind. My son, Swapno, and I bought this house just about a month and a half ago. Before that, we were renting in Shyambazar. The broker who found this house for us also found Bani and her family. My son insisted that having an educated small family renting downstairs would be a comfort in times of need, someone to talk to, and to give us peace of mind. They moved in almost at the same time as we did.

Do you know where the previous owners of 'Amritkanan' went after selling the house?

Yes, they went to America to live with their son—both husband and wife.

What was their surname?

Suvimal Das, Nilima Das, and their son, Arnab.

Do you know if they had any tenants before?

When we first came to discuss the purchase about three months ago, there were tenants here. They told us the tenant had been transferred somewhere and would leave before the sale. And that's what happened.

Do you know anything else about the tenants, Paromadi?

No, there wasn't really any opportunity to know.

Bani or Paromadi, have you made any significant changes to the house since you moved in? Like repairs, repainting, etc.?

No, Madam. Our previous flat was very small, and it was quite inconvenient, so we hurriedly moved here. We haven't had time for renovations yet. And we moved in so quickly that Aunty hasn't even had the chance to start work on the ground floor, Bani replied.

I'd like to take a good look around the entire ground floor.

Certainly, please come, Madam.

The room where they had been sitting was the front room. Above this room was Paroma's bedroom. So, in the quiet afternoon, Bani's scream had easily reached her ears. Next was a dining space. Beyond it, on one side, were the kitchen and bathroom, and on the other side, two rooms. The larger room was now Bani's bedroom.

The smaller room next to it was empty. It seemed that Bani's family hadn't used this room much yet. When the lights were turned on, they noticed a number of posters stuck to the walls with adhesive. On the northern wall, the first picture from the left was of boxer Muhammad Ali. No one in the room had any doubt about that. Among the others that Bahni recognized with her limited knowledge were Mike Tyson, Vijender Singh, Joe Frazier, Jack Johnson, and Mary Kom. Bahni didn’t know the names of the rest. Bani mentioned that these pictures had been there before they moved in. On the floor against the western wall were four square marks, indicating that a four-legged table had once been placed there.

Next to it, on the wall, there were height markings in centimeters, drawn in pencil. Several of the centimeter markings were circled in red. The topmost mark was around 183 centimeters. Bahni thought that the person who lived here had last measured their height at this spot. On the same wall was a life-size human skeleton and a full muscular system of the human body.

Judging by the height and interest in boxing, it seemed that a boy had lived in this room. Bahni believed that either he was associated with the medical or paramedical field, or he had an interest in human anatomy due to his involvement