By Neel Anil Panicker
‘Sir, it’s suicide. This guy, name’s Thomas, around sixtyish moonlighted at the hotel__waited tables, occasionally cooked. Seems his fish curry was a favourite among the backpackers. Yesterday, they fished him out of the sea. The manager says he was sprawled on the upper deck floor after shutdown. Had a bottle beside him.”
“You’ve haven’t dug enough, Pandey”.
‘I’m sorry Sir, I don’t get you’.
“You won’t, you buffoon. This guy drinks but not on a Monday, the day he died. Means somebody forced liquor down his throat and hurled him into the waters. Got to find out who and why.”
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