Two pe tango

Dr. Riya Mukherjee’s official first case with ETF started with an unidentified, almost beheaded female body found in a jungle. Rathore had warned all of them that it would be bloody, and stopped Riya when the rest of them were moving out of the door.

“You are you want to be there?”

“It should be interesting.” She was bouncing on steps, and the Chief can as far as say that she was actually excited. It made him smile and frown at the same time.

“Not exactly a research paper, Riya.”

“I have seen a lot of dead bodies online. It will be the same, but more . . . “ She struggled for words.

”Practical.” The former finished for her, and she nodded.

The neck was barely stuck to the rest of body and it was bend to an awkward position. Chotu glanced sideways and saw Shree controlling his throw up twice, making a nasty face as he knelt down and took pics. Local police was around, with their search dogs. 2km radius of this place was completely sealed.

Arjun Rawte was beside the body, almost touching over the wound but refraining from that. Riya walked inside the yellow taped area in awe, and barely acknowledged Chotu when he handed over gloves to her. Unlike the ACP, she did touch the body, fingers tracing lightly over the wound and even inside it.

Shree took a look at it, shoved the camera to Chotu and ran away to throw up.

Back in the ETF, Shree ran a search for the body in the Adhaar database, Rathore sent the body to state forensic lab and communicated with the seniors there. Arjun Rawte was telling his theory on the body abandoned in such an unlikely area- might be revenge crime, a scorned lover, financial issue. Chotu listened and occasionally chimed in, and at times glanced at the woman beside him who had become silent as a monk. Her feet were crossed and up on the chair as she sat, and she did not even look like she was listening to anything the ACP said, staring what seemed to be Rawte’s fingers as he moved a red pen between them.

And then he noticed the ACP noticing the same thing, and gritted teeth in response. No doubt shouting expletives in head that she can’t concentrate or was probably scared of the gruesome scene they all had witnessed before. But for some reason he did not voice them out- maybe as a courtesy for the opposite gender, or her being a newbie.

“Chotu, look for any eye witness around the premises. It’s a National park, had to be some vendor or jeeps passing by who might have witnessed something. Make it a week.” Chotu mentally winced at the order- it was like finding a needle in haystack. How he was supposed to get records or interrogate, he did not know. But he would do some jugaad, as it was not the first time his senior had made such a brazen order. ACP Rawte was going to say something, but he was interrupted by Riya.

“What was the murder weapon?” Her eyes were fixed on his fingers. Chotu looked between the two, and Arjun sighed- finally she had decided to grace them with her voice, and she was thinking about the case, at least.

“That’s not important.” He said, making her frown, “Once we get the victim’s identity, we will get a list of suspects. The guilty with tell us himself how he killed her.”

Her face looked like she was not convinced, but once again she said nothing.

Chotu noticed with fascination her silence made his Boss uneasy and irritated.

3 days later, Shree and Riya visited the state forensic lab for the autopsy report and to speak with the head of the team who was in charge of it. Shree had visited this place lots of times and greeted those familiar. As per strict order of Rathore sir, he introduced the latter as Dr. Mukherjee, a consultant. It was met with similar level of ridiculousness and intrigue, and he rolled eyes internally- welcome to my world!

The head of autopsy, a man in his fifties, pulled the white sheet off the dead body and pointed at the wound again, making Shree almost throw up. Like the jungle, Riya moved near the body in fascination, asked questions and even smiled. Shree could only look at her with levels of disbelieve.

“The murder weapon,” Riya was bouncing on her feet when the Dr. Was coming to this point, “it’s very unusual. Something heavy and have a sharp tip.”

“Not a knife then?” She asked, making the former shake head.

“Oh no, there is no knife in world which can do it. I am not sure. The cut was also precise, like one quick swing.” He mimicked the action with his hand, “One strike was all it needed.”

“Do you think it can be a sword?” Shree frowned at her question- what a odd thing to ask. But then he looked back the senior doctor, and saw him frowning.

“Maybe. If you look at the clues, it’s a probability. But to confirm it we probably need to go back to the history of swords and how they killed people. The wounds.” He looked at Riya, “But who uses a sword in this age? Also, he or she has to be agile. I am guessing a he.”

“Why?” Shree inquired.

“Look at this, what woman can be capable of this level of violence?” Shree this time rolled his eyes openly at the stupidity of statement. “Also, swords weights a lot. Man is naturally capable of carrying more weight.” The doctor turned to Riya who was listening in intrigue, “If you go through history, sword fighting was something royals used to do. Male heirs carried a lineage. Women did learn, but it was not something which was passed on. With Independence, that line died. Even if some woman is actually doing sword fighting in this age, definitely not for this.” He gestured at the body.

Riya went back to her silent mode and did not speak up for hours.

Two days passed and the only thing that helped the snail paced investigation was Chotu’s jugaad- he found a fast food vendor who was pushing his stroll on the possible day of murder, and he described what seemed to be a flock of SUVs. He did not remember numbers or anything as such, not even if it was a MH (maharastra vehicle) or some other places. It fell on Shree in the end as he looked for black SUVs in the city in last 10 days or so.

Rathore sir was telling something, his hand in air when Chotu saw the Dr. Running towards them with a thick book on her hands. She put the book on the table with a bang, making others jump. Shree coughed a bit at the dust flying around, but it was short lived as Riya launched into a speech. Chotu only caught the summary of her speech- a history of Swords in India.

“Whoa whoa, slow down kid.” Rathore looked as puzzled as others but at least he was effective in silencing her, “Go back, restart. And this time slowly, please.” He added that with a small smile. Riya looked a bit embarrassed, but brushed it aside and started again, this time deliberately slow.

“The history of swords goes back to centuries ago. There were changes in its structure and metals that were used, for durability, but it’s pretty much unchanged.”

“The forensic head did not say it was a sword.” Shree stated, looking at his seniors, “Why you are stuck on sword theory?”

“I called him. He confirmed.” She turned the book towards them and the men moved closer, “These are pictures on people who used swords in old age, their victims. I had a doubt, but the Dr. Confirmed. It’s a sword.”

“But knowing this don’t help the case.” Arjun said, glancing at the former and exhaled in anger when she looked away, again, “The victim was killed by sword, and then there is nothing.”

“Who uses sword in this age? Let alone for killing.” Rathore said, shaking head. Riya smiled at that, excited.

“Exactly.” She turned to Shree, “The Doctor was saying in history books male heirs carried on the legacy and they were mostly taught sword fighting.” He nodded at that, “The kings and their kingdoms are gone now. But some of them still carries those practices.”

“Those will be what, rajputanas?” Chotu said, and suppressed a wince when his Boss looked at him, “Among others.”

“Why will someone who belongs from royalty, assuming it is correct, will do such a thing?” Arjun countered, frustrated. This theory came out of nowhere and made no sense.

“There is actually another . . . “ Before Riya can continue, Shree’s laptop chimed. He rushed to check, and quickly informed the rest about the victim’s details- name and place.

“Rohila?” Rathore frowned, extremely familiar with the name but not able to pin point. Wordlessly, Riya pushed a paper cut on top of the open book.

“The place with highest rate of Honor killing in the country.” The puzzle pieces clicked for the rest of them, “And their choice of weapon,”

“Sword.” Arjun finished for her.

This time, Rathore did not allow Riya to go with them to Rohilla. It was a village which belonged from pre historic days, had third highest number of female infanticides cases, and generally had an uneasy feeling all around. She dragged her feet and whined like a kid, but relented wordlessly, going over the desks to arrange the papers.

Rathore sighed at her hunched shoulders and left the office along with his team.

Fortunately for them, the chase and capture of the *surprisingly* woman killer (that too the mother of victim) did not take much time. They had left around noon, and returned around 11pm, and was surprised to see Riya still in office, almost as if waiting for them.

Arjun gave lift to Rathore and Riya on their way back. The Chief had drove almost 500km today and had no more energy left to even hold the steering wheel.

“It was the Mother? Really?” Riya was confused, “Why would she do that?”

“Respect. Honor.” At her look Rathore explained, “Her daughter ran away from her village to this city. Her mother’s reputation was hence damaged, so to fix it, she killed her.”

“It makes no sense.” She mumbled, still frowning at her hands.

“It’s hard to believe someone who birthed and nurtured her can do this.”

“No, I mean,” Riya raised her head, “She is a criminal now. Where is the respect in that?”

Nobody had answers for that.

Rathore had bid goodnight and Rawte started the car again, on the back seat Riya’s eyes were glued to a book, and occasionally gave him one word answers about her house’s location. Arjun had enough of this- on one side he was convinced he had insulted her somehow, but then there was his ego. She had such an instant comeback the other day, and now she can’t even look at him while talking.

He reached the location, turned off the vehicle and looked at Riya. After a few moments, she realized they had reached her location, closed her book quickly and almost the door when his words froze her.

“Is there any issue between us?” He tried to keep his voice carefully neutral, “Any issue with my face that you can’t look at it while talking?”

She let out a confused ‘Huh?’ at that, glanced at his face for maybe a milisecond, before looking away again.

“I am not sure if I have offended you or somehow, and I don’t really care if there is some hard feelings from your side. But I don’t want Rathore to notice and give me a lecture on how I don’t treat you right, or giving you a hard time.”

“You shout.” She spoke out, firm and clear just when he was done. Just out of nowhere.

“Excuse me?”

“You shout. A lot. I don’t like shouting.” She folded hand on her lap, looking at the floor of the car. Rawte was so stumped at the answer- without hesitance, at the innocence and absolute truth, that he had to think before he could speak.

And just like the first day he saw her, he realized she was so young. It just came out at times in between her ocean of knowledge. She would put both her feet on chair, sit with head down as if sitting in principal’s office, bounce on her feet in excitement. Like a kid. And just like that first day, he had no idea what the hell she was doing around them.

“If I don’t raise my voice at you,” He spoke softly, using a tone he did not speak in for years, “can you look me in the eyes?”

She did that in the very next moment, without any fear or hesitance, but had doubts in her eyes, “Really?”

He had to steel his inside to look away from her laser sharp focus on him, “Least I can do.”

In return, she gave a bright smile, got down from the car and bid him a goodnight. He could not take his eyes off her, but his sixth sense kicked in. A biker just rushed towards her out of nowhere, and he was this close to hit her when Arjun jumped from the car in a lightning, and pulled her from the road straight in his chest. She was so startled at the suddenness that she just froze - at the almost accident in this dead of night, his rescue and this closeness. She could hear his heart hammering, echoing in this silent street.

Arjun muttered expletives at the idiot on bike, then looked down to find her gazing at him with a wide variety of emotions- he identified questions, but for the rest of them, this was not the time or space for them.

“Come on.” He took her hand and started to walk towards a house which he presumed to be there. But she did not move.

“I can walk.”

“I am not giving any other biker a chance.” He warned silently just when she was about to reply something, then took her hand and walked towards the property. He stood there as she opened the gate, unlocked the door of house and went in, his eyes never moving away from her.

Dr. Mukherjee was sad to know that not everyday there is a new case for ETF to solve. But she was curious about the paper work and report filing her new colleagues did, fascinated by the structure and words and points. Entirely different than how her research papers goes, but the formality felt the same. She remarked to herself as she turned the pages that it did not look that hard, to which Shree looked up with disdain, pushed glasses over nose and said, “Then why don’t you try?”

The Doctor shrugged as if it was the obvious, took a few files herself and sat between the junior duo to work on them. Chotu looked at Shree’s slightly surprised expression, then around the office. As usual, Arjun sir was busy in his cabin, Rathore sir had gone to attend some high profile meeting. He did not know if they should even let the doctor work on the files- she might do mistakes, also he was not sure what authority she has on ETF properties.

But he chose to say nothing and observe how his new colleague was faring.

One look at the file, and then Shree’s nervous nail biting, and Arjun Rawte knew these reports were not written by him. The language was too sophisticated, there were no mistakes, and they were done fast. Shree always submits report at last and there are always some or other mistakes. He gets the technology aspects of cases right, but lacked the interest to do the same for forensics. Whoever wrote the reports loved forensic and autopsy procedure- there were seven pages dedicated to it.

He dismissed the junior quickly, thought to himself for a while before walking out of room with the file in his hand. Predictably, the Doctor was in file room, sitting on the dusty floor. And just like before, she sensed him arriving and greeted with an absent minded “Hello, ACP.”

He crouched down to her level and just stared at her until she looked up with a confused look, “Busy?”

She looked like she wanted to deny, but then sighed, “I need to submit this paper by tomorrow.” At his look of slight intrigue she added, “This is supposed to be published in the journal of London University next month edition.”

He was impressed, had to. “That sounds good.” She gave a quick smile at that, immediately looking down at her laptop, “Care to explain why you are filing reports for ETF?”

“Were there any mistakes?”

“There was not any, actually.” He sighed, almost smiling at the satisfied look on her face but refraining, “It’s not your job. You are here to consult on cases and help the team. Don’t do it the next time.”

“I was just trying to help.”

“I get it. But don’t.” She gave a slow nod at that, then looked at the time at her laptop, her eyes wide. In hurry, she put all the papers, books and files around her in her bag. Wordlessly, Arjun took the laptop off her lap and stood up, and watched her doing the same. He did not hand over the laptop when she extended her hand, walked with her till outside and saw her off in a ETF SUV. The whole way Riya explained about the paper she was writing and what contents the journal of London University publishes each month. Silence descended around him when she left, and after a while he turned and headed towards the office.

He is a silent man. He was always a silent man unless he was around people close to him. He has a reputation of being an out of control, angry police officer in the department, so naturally the juniors, even the housestaff were afraid of him. Rathore was always more busy in meetings and handling team that beyond his withering glare, he did not bother arguing with him much. Silence suited Arjun Rawte just fine, but this new Doctor chatted around him uncaring of his reaction. And it was not even her being intruding or talking nonsense- she was lost in her own world and almost always would say some random facts related to a situation. Just the other day Chotu had handed her over a candy and she was talking about history of chocolates and how small toffies came to be. The other night in SUV she just spoke her mind, unafraid, that she did not like shouting. Arjun did not remember the last time anyone was so truthful to him, or looked at him like he was another, normal person.

He wondered if Dr. Mukherjee knew about who he was, what his past was or his reputation. The thought that it might make her feel and act different toward him made him uneasy.

Dr. Mukherjee liked reading, and liked more discussing with people. But Arjun observed she would never speak up if she sense people around her are not interested in the topic or her. He had seen her having discussion with Rathore on usefulness of constitution one morning.

“If there are always ways to bypass a law, doesn’t make sense the whole idea of having a rule book.” They walked inside the office, he pushed the door just at the nick of time so that her face don’t get banged on it. Rathore sometimes pick up the Dr. On his way, and no matter how tired or distracted he is, he puts an effort to listen and reply back to her.

“There needs to be a guideline to follow. A code of conduct.”

“Gandhiji wanted governance based in village and total autonomy.”

“You think if we had followed that line there would not have been a constitution?” He was surprised. Shree came to say something, looked puzzled at the conversation then shrugged, and left.

“It’s hard to tell hypothetically.” The Dr. Took her usual seat as Rawte kept observing the two quietly, “maybe there would have been a different way.”

“Difference doesn’t mean better.” Rathore turned on his heels to leave. The former frowned, and spoke quietly.

“We will never know.”

She don’t speak like this in front of Shree, or in front of some victim’s family- out of respect, or feeling out of depth, he doesn’t know. She may get lost in her head at times and goes without words for hours, but she has a strong sense of surrounding and non verbal clues. People who will tolerate her and those who don’t.

And the Dr. Loved statistics. Had numbers and figures remembered on any given topic. They were handling this case where the man looked like he died by suicide, his body was found hanging from ceiling fan. During discussion, she said this-

“Maharastra actually has highest percentage of suicide victims as per NCRB report.”

Rawte raised eyes and turned towards Rathore, who looked like he expected nothing less than this from her. Chotu was amused, while Shree looked slightly irritated.

“Yeah? Which year, 2018?”

“No, 2019 actually.” She shifted on chair, oblivious to the former’s deliberate attempt,”32% of the whole country.”

“You read the whole report?” He asked warily, stealthily typing in his laptop to check if she was right.

“I am trying, but not getting much time. I was on the page of state figures and gender wise chart when . . . “

“Why the numbers so high?” Chotu interrupted, making the Dr. Turn to look at him.

“Major two causes are family issues and illness.”

“But this man had none, so we need to find out what’s next.” The Chief effectively put an end on the conversation.

ACP Rawte observed things a lot- his mind is sharp and quickly take notice of surroundings due to his own nature and job. He often gets bored and surreptitiously notice his colleagues, not because he cares. He figured out the new colleague, Dr. Mukerjee- put her in nice little box of ‘book worm’ and ‘intelligent’ and left at that. But there were some things he did not know about others, or about the Dr. Herself. Maybe he did not care, maybe they were good at hiding.

The suicide victim had a diary and naturally Dr. Mukerjee got the dibs on it first, also nobody wanted to go through a book when other aspects were there. But probably human thoughts and emotions were hard to digest, as she left it frustratingly on the table after one quick read, making face.

Chotu came to stand near her with a mug of coffee- she actually liked machine coffee, with three cubes of sugar. ACP Rawte did not know this.

“Any luck?”

“He wrote in riddles.” She took a sip and complained. Smiling a bit, the giant man picked up the diary and turned a few pages.

“These are not riddles. These are called shayari. Like poems.”

“Do you know how to decode them?” His grin turned wider at this.

“This is not a puzzle, Riya. These are his thoughts.”

“How do you know?” Her entire focus was on him, the coffee forgotten as the warmth slowly seeped away. The man sighed, and hurriedly looked around before answering.

“I used to write.” Her face looked like she got an answer about a complex problem.

“Can you recite one?” He leaned back slightly and she rushed to explain, “Never understood poems. Maybe if you recite some lines and explain I can understand the diary.”

He thought for a long time, clearing fogs from old memories, dusting them before presenting it to her.

 
Ajeeb Tarah Se Gujar Gayi Meri Bhi Zindagi,
Socha Kuchh, Kia Kuchh, Hua Kuchh, Mila Kuchh.
Jeene Ka Hausla Kabhi Marne Ki Aarzoo,
Din Yoon Hi Dhoop-Chhaaon Mein Apne Bhi Kat Gaye.

“Understood anything?” He asked after a while, dragging himself out of that zone. She looked stunned, and yet looked like she got nothing.

“Something about life?”

“Why don’t I take this diary and get back to you?” He gently put the diary away as her eyes kept following it, “Meanwhile you can find out if the man did not have two important reasons for suicide, why he did so?”

But the case was going nowhere, and Rathore was talking to Rawte one day that they might need to close it due to lack of evidence on foul play. They would have closed it long ago if they were not pressurized by a minister who was an in-law of the victim. Nobody looked like they were interested in the case, except Chotu maybe as he was lost in the diary. Shree’s tech skills were not needed, Rawte was almost sure there was no issue with the case.

He and Riya went one evening at the state forensic lab to check on the body and talk to doctors for autopsy. The whole ride she chewed his ear off talking about statistics of suicide and 2019 NCRB report which she had finished by now. He said to himself that the only reason he did not snap or told her to stop was cause she wrote a paper for London university and she asked him not to yell at her the other night. But that doesn’t mean he can’t be sarcastic.

“The only profile this man fits is the mode of suicide.”

“Aha.”

“Do you know major ways to commit suicide is by hanging?”

“Really now?”

“And then poison.”

“Don’t doubt it.” He checked the report and the body, and had enough of this case and the numbers that came out of her mouth. “Is there any chart of which poison was used more or mode of hanging- like from ceiling fan, or shower stall?”

The autopsy doctor, who was quietly listening to the one side conversation till this time, raised eyebrow slightly from the corner of room.

“Nope, there was none.” She declared, oblivious as always. He glared at her and she did not even feel.

“Maybe it should be added in next edition, right?” He himself works in police department and the only time he even heard about annual crime report was during those boring monthly meetings Rathore force him to go to.

“You can write actually. You have the authority.” And as usual, his words fell on him.

He turned on his heels and marched out, nostrils flaring in anger.

The Dr. Was gone for a whole day when the team brainstormed on the suicide case. Rawte was almost sure, like 99.9%, that it was a suicide, a normal one, no pressure. Everyone else also looked the same, and was eager to close it. Apart from Chotu who was very interested in the diary.

The landline rang in the middle of conversation and Shree picked up, putting the call on speaker, “Yes?”

“Oh.” It was the Dr. “I wanted Chotu.” She was supposed to have this zoom meeting for the whole day with the London university professors on her Thesis paper they were going to publish. Rawte did not care, he heard Rathore talking on it.

“You called on the landline number.” He rolled eyes, pushing the phone towards Chotu.

“Yes, Riya? Chotu here.”

“Did you finish the diary?”

“I did actually.”

“Are not you supposed to be busy in the zoom meeting?” Rathore asked, mildly curious.

“They took a break. I was thinking.” Arjun could actually picture her buried in a book as she trailed off, “You know the diary entries? He skipped pages as he wrote.”

“People do that. Probably to match with the date and entry.” Arjun spoke up.

“But it has a pattern. Like he wrote on page number 2, then 4, 5, 8, and then it goes on.”

“Is it like a mathematical equation?” Sameer asked and immediately started to laugh silently as she replied, this time voice low.

“I hope not.” Apparently the doctor don’t like maths, and yet she is full of statistics on crime figures, “I thought, what if the number represents letter. Like 4 for D, 5 for E.”

“It will be like a word? But that’s too much for words, it has a lot of entries.” Chotu said, immediately going through the pages.

“Give it to me.” Shree muttered, taking the book from him. He note down the page numbers and letters, and put hand through his thick curly hair as he observed it. After a while, he wrote down a few sentences quickly and pushed the notebook towards Rathore.

“Please somebody help . . “

“Me.” Riya finished from the other side, “Thought so.” And unceremoniously disconnected the call before others can process what just happened.

Dr. Mukherjee arrived the next day and heard the second hand account of the case from Chotu. It sounded like a creepy story- the man had a sister who was eyeing the house (the parents were dead years ago and the woman was married). Her husband knew, and it seemed the two tormented the victim a lot. On the night of his suicide, apparently the Brother in law sat inside and room and calmly ordered the other to hang himself. He left an hour later  when he was satisfied that the victim was no longer breathing.

Chotu shuddered as he said, “It’s just creepy and horrible. I can never get over how awful humans can get.”

“Maybe he had some mental illness. Or maybe greed.” The Dr. Shrugged, and the former envied the lack of care on her face. She can get over a case or situation once it passes, unlike him who is in the department for years an still has trouble sleeping at night. Shaking himself off, he sighed.

“The man had such a sad life. Died all alone. Did not even have a soulmate.”

Riya frowned, “What mate?”

“Soulmate. You know we all have marks of them?” His eyes widen at her confused face, “You did not know?”

“It’s a myth, is not it? Like wishing to falling stars.”

“It’s not. We all have those marks, specifically the first word or couple of words spoken by our soulmate. He did not have any.” He was sad again, but Dr. Mukherjee got a new subject and was going to run with it.

“Everyone has them?”

“Many of them.”

“So do you have it?”

At the question, the commando gave a look, muttered something under his breath and looked around. The seniors were gone, Shree was coming in late, it was just them. He did not know why he was even doing this, and still he bent down, took off his left shoe, then sock, and planted feet on the cold tiled floor. The Dr. Frowned at him, and then looked down at the feet.

“So mine is on left feet, and it’s in Marathi. Hello.” The Dr. Bent down too, carefully examining. “At least the person is from this same state.” He snorted.

“So everyone has them on feet?” She was still hesitant, but the physical evidence was right in front of her. None can mistake the marks and uneven skin on his feet which was suspiciously like a word, albeit in different language. But the Dr. Knew many languages, and she can identify the Marathi letters.

“Not necessarily.” Dragging a chair, Chotu sat down and started to wear his sock, “Can be on any part of body. Hand, wrist, arms, back, chest.”

“Do you know anyone who has it?”

His face turned serious, “My mother.”

“What word she has written on her skin?”

He did not want to think about it, and maybe she sensed that- perceptive as usual. Looking away in embarrassment, and yet unable to help herself, she asked, “Is it necessary that everyone needs to have it?”

Chotu laughed, the momentary darkness forgotten, “It’s not like a ‘should have’ Riya, like a ID card. It’s a gift from above. Or maybe not. Part of us.”

“How is it biologically possible?”

“That I don’t know. But I do know this some are born with them, some are not. Maybe you can read more on them and let me know.” He teased.

“What if someone don’t have them? Like the victim?”

His face went uncomfortable and he took more time as he said carefully, “Then maybe that person’s soulmate is not born yet. Or maybe he or she is dead. Or maybe they don’t have one.” Looking at her, he asked hesitantly, “Do you . . . ?”

The Dr. Was quiet and looked thoughtful for a while, then she physically shook herself, over this subject as quickly as she took interest, “I don’t have any, I think. Maybe my soulmate will be two decades younger. That will be. . . creepy.”

He started to laugh, but this was a better thought than thinking about dead person or not born yet. Sensing the topic to be over, they started to chat mindlessly, until Shree arrived and another boring, report filing day started in ETF.

Dr. Riya Mukherjee has spent a majority of her life with books and less with humans. Books are easy, one need to read them, remember them and note it down, and then read more books or search internet for references. ETF was truly her first experience at life and human emotions, per se. Her Mother was mostly absence and she was never warm, like she feels whenever she enters this building.

Like for example, handling victims. ACP Rawte has infamous temper and at least shouts thrice a day round the clock (she noticed it and asked Chotu, and he choked on his coffee in laughter), and yet he was good with kids and grieving spouses. Shree always had this sympathetic look whenever he did that, almost as if the ACP could feel the pain. Rathore sir could always take the crying and wailing on stride and cut through questions- there was always this precision from this man. Chotu had great networking skills, despite his towering, intimidating figure.

But Shree- she had not figured him out yet.

He laughs with Chotu and gets scared of the seniors. Spends majority of his time behind his laptop which has stylish ‘Shree’ text printed in green and black. He is quick on work and always have answers, co-ordinates with various agencies and ETF everyday. But he don’t like to hear about random history about things- like they had this 20 year old case where they found bag of bones in the basement of an abandoned room. Riya was saying out loud about houses and basements, and he looked displeased, so she stopped speaking and looked around the house.

Shree don’t like her, and she knows that. Tries to tone it down- not because she wants him to like her. She never really had friends so pretty sure people don’t like her, she just want to make it easier for him in office. It is his place first, after all.

And then she was printing some papers in office, when Shree arrived. His face crunched up like it always does whenever he sees her, and she hurried to work. When the printed papers fell on floor, she looked up at his gasp.

That was the day she saw his anger- and fear. Apparently she had printed wrong papers, it was some personal case related to ACP Rawte. She had no desire to look through that, so she assured him she will dispose of those. He whisper shouted at her for a long time, irritated that she did not get the urgency or the implication of this incident. He stood until she had ripped those papers, and whole day glared at her and muttered under his breath.

Chotu had enough after a few comments and he decided to intervene, choosing a moment when none of the seniors were present, “Cut it out Shree, okay?” The Dr. Would deliberately look away, not wanting to see the disappointment in his eyes as the bespectacled man informed everything that happened.

“Now take her side, go on.” He huffed, looking away in irritation. Chotu blinked a few times, looking at Riya.

“That was a big mistake.”

“I destroyed the papers.” She nodded.

“No, I mean what you did was a big mistake.” He exhaled, “If Arjun Sir come to know . . . you did not really see his anger.” He shuddered at the thought.

“How can you print some random papers anyway? And you doing Phd?” Immediately as he said, Shree’s face softened, almost opening mouth to apologize. It might have been a silly mistake, he had no right to take potshot on her education.

“I will be careful next time.”

But the ACP did come to know about her mistake, and he looked at her as if . . . like a deranged man, for a better term. Rathore sir always say when people lose their souls, that’s when they go insane and starts killing people. His dark eyes looked like that- soulless. She was stunned at the ferocity in those eyes, how carefully he held himself, as if he broke, his would run to her and maybe physically harm her.

The thoughts were disturbing but she wondered, detached as usual, what was on those files.

Surprising everyone, he neither yelled at her nor said anything- the only implication of his anger was how he banged the glass door of conference room so hard that it broke, shattered pieces going everywhere. Riya did not know if it was because the other night she told him she did not like shouting. But it was a big mistake judging by his reaction, yelling would have been fine.

Rathore came to know what happened and looked in disbelieve, as if he can’t believe the Dr. Was still alive and standing under ETF roof. He cautiously spent a few days glancing at his colleague, but apart from stone face and shouting at the juniors (never at Riya, he won’t even look at her), there was nothing amiss.

The Dr. Thought about apologizing, but like with Shree, she wanted to give the ACP space, not letting him feel agitated due to her presence, It was hard, working in such a small team, but she tried her best- spending more time in files room, looking around before entering and exiting the office. She did not like it, but Chotu helped too, signaling her when it was safe to move. It was grating on his nerves weeks after this strange routine started.

“For how long you plan to hide like this?” He asked dryly one day as she was pouring 3rd cube of sugar in her coffee.

“I am not hiding.” She mumbled, then tried to speak louder, “Just giving him space, so that my presence don’t bother him.”

Before he could say anything to that, the reports on the bag of bones came out. ACP Rawte had a hunch that it belonged to someone who had vanished decade ago, and surely enough the data came back that the bones had to age at least 10 years, and belonged to a convicted criminal going by the records. The man had gone missing a decade ago, and till this day there was no news. Everyone thought being a convicted criminal, he had either went underground or left to somewhere to start afresh. Apparently, that did not happen.

Then the next day, in another abandoned house, the local police found another bag of bones. From the packaging, the dumping ground and close timeline between the two made the team feel as if it was part of a chain. Like a serial killing.

“Riya.” She looked up from the pictures of the bones at the sound of Rathore, “Try to work on a profile.”

“It’s too less data.” She replied thoughtfully, looking down at the photos again.

“You need more bodies to work?” ACP Rawte’s voice was harsh, and it was the first time he directly spoke to her, albeit not politely. The Dr. Did not even notice his tone, or the fact that he was actually communicating.

“Yes, actually.” The former exhaled sharply in anger, “We can only establish a serial killer connection if there is three killing, at least. Notwithstanding the fact that if someone kills three member of a single family or people who are related, it also falls under serial killing even though the idea is different.”

“These are not part of same family.” The second bag of bones was of a woman, and the preliminary report said she had no connection to the first victim. Riya nodded at Shree.

“It makes it harder.”

ACP Rawte continued to glare as if her mere presence was against rule of universe. The whole day, he spent his energy brooding and shouting at others, and Rathore decided, even though it was like standing in front of a speeding train, as a chief it was his duty to intervene.

At least try.

ACP Rawte looked up to see the Boss standing near his (doorless) cabin, and clenched his jaw, no doubt a lecture was coming. Taking his silence as acceptance, Rathore entered.

“Are you irritated that she can’t make a profile or that she went through your personal files?”

Arjun sat up straight, eyes staring hard and as usual, Rathore did not have any effect- too used to the same tactics, “She was supposed to be good in this, right? That’s why she is here.”

“But her work is not based on hunches or seeing things others miss.” He pointed out, “It’s based on cold, hard facts. And this a decade old cold case, Rawte, we need to rely on her expertise more than anything. There is no suspect, no clue, nothing.”

He knew it, and he did not like it, “Understood. Won’t be a pain to your precious.” It was the wrong thing to say, as immediately he felt like that was something which crossed lines and Rathore did not like the tone.

“Are you insinuating something, Rawte?” His voice went few octaves lower. If it someone else, he would have squirmed.

“Nothing.”

“Good.” He proceeded to leave, “Because I won’t entertain that tone next time. So you can cool off here, or you can leave for Ravi lodge and come back tomorrow.”

The instant reaction was to shout back and have another verbal fight, but knowing he was wrong this time, Rawte clenched jaw and proceeded to keep quiet.

The local police found the third bag of bones around 3am on a Saturday. The members arrived in ETF one after another, bleary eyed and yawning- apart from Riya who looked like she had received a rare first edition book on Criminology from 1800s.

“Now I can start a profile.” Only Arjun Rawte had the energy to eye roll at that.

But he was impressed when, almost 17 hours and 6 cup of coffees later (Rathore had shared concern with Chotu and the latter had tried to force feed her, but she was so buried in her work that she did not care), the Dr. Showed them ‘the murder board’. It was filled with maps, diagrams, various lines drawn different colored pens, photos of crime scenes, reports of CSI, etc. She had come up with a ‘hotspot’, a possible place the killer used to visit 10 years ago, most likely his place of living or work. And as per her, the killer still visits- as other wise, not many people will know which abandoned house to look for. From the CSI reports, it was obvious that the bags were not in location from last 10 years, rather repacked and placed recently based on the wear and tear of bags. The bones were in good condition, and Rathore had a theory that killer had to have knowledge on preserving.

“A chemist? Or someone working in health care?” Rawte wondered.

“Morgues maybe?” Shree supplied.

“How the victims died, any report on that?” Chotu asked, and Riya shook head.

“The bones were clean, no cut marks or any damage. So mostly likely not killed by any blunt force trauma. Not also gun shot or knifes.” She looked back in file, “If there was some way to find out how the victims died, would have been better to create more profile.” She turned to her colleagues and they all stood straight, alert and ready.

“This killer is patient. He had killed and preserved these bones and dumping them now. It’s not about making a statement. Not even to create panic, otherwise he would have dumped them to somewhere public, for more exposure. It also means he don’t want to go outside his comfort zone, so most likely the killer is still living or venturing around the locations.” She pointed the hotspot zone in map, marked in deep blue, “The areas are not far too, not like walking distance but like one takes a public transport, he can get down one or two stops later.”

“You got all that from three bag of bones?” ACP Rawte asked, and Rathore hid his smile. He still had that night in diner printed in his mind.

“This was easy.” She shrugged, ignoring the former’s rise of eyebrows, “But the question is, why dump now? What’s so special about now? And how they were killed?” She pulled the crime scene photos impatiently towards her, “The first one was a criminal, second one was a prostitute, third one was a thug. Apart from their criminal links, there is nothing.”

“Can it be like an anniversary?” Chotu looked at others, “You said it, Riya, why now. Maybe this time is important to killer. Maybe the individual dates mark their day of death.”

“Good point.” Shree beamed.

“But why now? Why not previous year, or year before that? Is it like a ten year anniversary? And what’s the link between these three?” She mumbled to herself, annoyed at not figuring out this small thing. Rathore glanced at others, and came to stand near her.

“You have done more than enough.” Before she could turn at him and protest, he carried on, “Why don’t you let us handle this? You go home, relax, and we will update you when we get something.”

She actually did that, without much protest even though the frown never left her face- still trying to figure out the issue at hand. Arjun and Chotu wondered if the Dr. Was really going to take rest or will still obsess over the case.

Probably the latter.

Rathore was having a phone call days later with a forensic doctor from Central Forensic lab who specializes in bones, “So the victims died of starvation?” He asked, a bit skeptic.

“The bones expanded. That only happens when body is starving, kind of like when body runs out of nutrition it starts to eat its own muscle, and then bones.” The Doctor explained. After a few more minutes of discussion, he murmured a thank you and requested for a detailed report.

Riya was the first one to look up from her coffee as the chief entered, the frown on her face did not leave in these few days. “They died of starvation.” He dropped the papers on desk, others coming around him and taking one paper each. Rawte went through each pages with far more patience that he usually shows, and then asked.

“Why kill them by denying food?”

“It’s a torture technique.” The Dr. Spoke up, drawing attention, “The longer it dragged, the better is suffering. Like in old days prisoners were deliberately not given food so that they can die in pain.”

“But this mean,” Rathore turned to her, “these people would have been lived at least for weeks. Maybe one month or so.”

“If they got water they might have survived longer.” Shree shook head, “Doubt it.”

“This means the killer had to live in an area where he had the facility to keep people like this.” Rawte said, now putting all the puzzle pieces together, “The killer had to take them one by one, he had to live an area where he could keep these people and nobody could hear when they screamed for help. A big area, no neighbors around.” He looked at Chotu who nodded.

“I will look for similar property around the place.” Giving a look to Riya who nodded, he rushed out of room.

“But the question remains.” Shree asked, “Why these people? Is there even any connection between them or they were randomly chosen.”

“About that.” Rathore said, “I sent out a message in local Police stations with victim identities and their details, in case some officers who used to work back in the day know any of them. So far, nothing from them.”

“I can go through old files.” Riya volunteered, as always excited to spend a day or two with files. Rathore nodded, and then glanced at Shree who’s face immediately pinched, but chose to say nothing.

“You two can go to local PS where the bones were found. I will give them a call.” Rathore turned to Arjun, who was going to say something, “You come with me. We need to head to lab and speak to the doctor. Maybe she can help more with the possible killer profile.”

The officers and Dr. Proceeded to move.

Hours later, Shree was bored with old cases, looked with irritation at the Dr. Because of whom he had to come in this dingy, dusty old room. She was engrossed in a file, as usual- she tend to rush through them like magazines. Shaking head, he decided to give his partner, Chotu, a call.

He picked on the first ring, “Having fun?”

“Shut up.” He whispered, earning a snicker, “What’s going on in there?”

“Well,” He started, ”Rathore sir and Arjun sir is here. I think we possibly found the abandoned house where victims might have been kept. The Central team is coming here, local PS barricaded the area. Arjun sir is going through the house.” He paused, “This house, you won’t like it. Creepy.” He shuddered.

“Well, if three died there of course their souls had to roam around.” Dr. Mukherjee looked at him and Shree kept the phone away for a bit, “They found the possible location where victims might have been kept.”

“I think I found something.” At that, Shree cut the call and got down on the floor- the Dr. Sat on the floor with files like she does in ETF office and the IT expert had to wince at the dust. He need to wash this jeans now, “So there was this 11 year old incident where a woman was burnt alive in her house. Nobody was found to be a culprit, and police interviewed a lot of people in the area. See the list.” She gave him the file, and Shree’s eyes widen behind glasses.

“The three from victim list.” She nodded at that, “But why? If they were not found guilty, why they were picked?”

“Maybe someone thought they had something to do with the woman death? Or maybe they were responsible, but there was lack of evidence.” She took the file from him, “The problem is nobody came forward as the victim’s next of kin or relative.”

“But someone did claim the body.” Shree pointed out, their heads almost touching as they peered on the file. He took a picture of the name and address of the man who claimed the body and immediately ran a search for him in data base. After a while, it pinged, and he got the current address of the man.

“Let’s pay him a visit, shall we?”

Riya looked in confusion, “Should not we inform Rathore sir first?”

“We need to check if this theory is correct or now. Besides, they all are busy with crime scene.” The former looked somewhat convinced at that, “Let’s go.”

The Dr. Felt uneasy the moment they set foot in the man’s house. It was empty, devoid of touch which makes a house home- no pictures, minimal furniture, no book or tv. The door was not even locked, and the two split to look through the house. Going by the state of house, and how Shree looked through the fridge and saw days old food getting fungus, it was almost as if nobody had lived here for at least a few days now.

Riya went through a room which looked like where the owner used to sleep- a small cot on floor, windows sealed shut, grey walls and blanket neatly folded. Hesitating, she went through the small wardrobe- nothing was amiss. The man had simply took off, taking nothing- not even cash or debit cards.

She wondered if the man was even alive by now.

There was a crash somewhere and she turned around, heart in throat. Also a bit curious, and later Chotu will tell her that whenever she feels uneasy or in danger, she need to have something in her hand which can be used as weapon. A knife, flower vase, even a vessel is fine. But in that moment she walked off with nothing in her hand, eyes going everywhere. The house was old and big, and wooden floor under her croaked as she moved.

Then she saw Shree lying in a pool of his own blood, eyes closed, and she dropped on her knees. Rest of the moments were in blur- she don’t remember calling ambulance, but she remembered doing CPR on him until his ribs cracked under her palms. She was counting 256 number CPR when people rushed behind her, moved her away, put oxygen on Shree’s face, took off his glasses and gave them in her palm.

It was then she realized she needed to call others as well. Her hands shook while dialing Chotu’s number, but her voice was surprisingly calm. She could hear him yelling, the seniors being shocked and rush of car. By the time they arrived, she was staring at the glasses in her palm. In her vision, she saw Rathore sir.

“What happened?” She opened and closed mouth several times, but nothing came out. She realized she did not even see how he got hurt- was it a knife or bullet wound? Was his throat slashed or it was his heart? Or maybe abdomen?

Thankfully the doctors came out, and it was then she knew too how he got hurt- a blunt edged knife in his stomach. The crash she heard was probably him falling on the floor. But why he did not shout?

Unless the man was around. Of course, he was, but when he left and when he came back? Was he waiting for them? Where is he now? Riya thought and thought and looked down at the floor as things around her blurred.

“I know the killer.” She spoke softly, and others startled at the eerily calm voice. Rathore nodded at the doctor who quickly left, turning to her, “There was this 11 year old case where woman was burnt alive. The killer is close to her, most likely a lover. He had planned for years. The dates when the bones were found mark ten year of the woman’s death, the interrogation of three victims and the day when he claimed the body. The house looked like nobody lived there for days, but he was around. Probably seen us. Which means he is tracking the news, and now hiding somewhere else. And he will commit suicide.” She looked up at that, “He has nothing to live for and now his revenge is satisfied, he won’t want to live anymore.”

The man looked at each other, and ACP Rawte spoke up, “Then why attack Shree?”

“To tell us it’s him. Now the circle of revenge is complete.” She looked at Rathore, “You need to find him.”

”We will.” He vowed.

But like the accurate profile or Dr. Mukherjee, this also turned out to be true. By the time ETF and local police found the killer, he had set himself on fire in the same locality where the woman was killed. Nobody could do anything except look on helplessly. 

When the Dr. Heard the news, she just stared back, her expression blank.

Shree survived, of course- apparently, the CPR saved his life. Chotu will tell her again and again just to remove that blank look off her face, but she won’t comment. Things were as normal in ETF it can be, minus Shree’s absence. She still hid in files room, Rawte still broods and Rathore vanishes for hour long meetings. But at times, ACP Rawte will mistakenly call for Shree, Rathore sir over compensate by visiting hospital and contacting the doctors more. Riya will just look blankly- she will have her random facts about mundane things and read books until it touches her glasses, but she will be quiet in a way, as if in a shock.

One day, ACP Rawte gave her lift for her home. His fingers clenched and loosen around steering wheel, glancing at the woman sitting beside who stared outside the moving car. Deliberately slowing down near a traffic signal, he made up his mind and decided to advice her.

“I think you should talk to someone.” She turned to him, frowning, “You should not keep it inside.” At her silence he sighed in frustration- she is infuriating all the damn time, “You found your colleague lying in his blood. It was . . . traumatic. You probably never faced that in your life. You should let it out. This silence won’t help.”

She kept staring at him for a long time, almost making him take the words back, “Do you mean you?”

“Someone else. Rathore maybe.” They are close. He brought her here, it falls on his shoulder to help her out. Also, it’s hypocritical of him to even say that- process trauma and talk to someone.

“So you mean someone else but you.” He could hear a bit edge in her tone. He exhaled, and restarted the car again.

“Forget I said anything.” This was a mistake. But she still won’t stop staring, and he grit teeth to keep the temper in check.

“If you don’t want to talk, why would you even mention it?”

“Just drop it, okay?” He snapped, and after a while, she proceeded to stare outside the window again.

Chotu dragged Riya one day after work to hospital to meet Shree. She did not visit him once, heard in bits and pieces from others on how he was functioning. The former wondered if it was guilt, or maybe seeing his colleague alive will snap her out of shock.

Shree raise an eyebrow when she stood at the door, as if waiting for an invitation. “Now the Dr. Decide to grace me with her presence.” When she said nothing- unsure if he was angry or upset, he sighed in irritation, “Come in.”

She politely inquired about injuries, not to bother him much- he was still weak. Her eyes tried to scan him for any flinch or visible marks, but apart from the hospital gown and medicines next to his bed, there was nothing. He was going to stay here for a few weeks, then bed rest or desk duty from office, depending upon his reports.

She was so busy in her head that she almost missed the scene in front of her.

This is what they call friendship, she thought to herself. How Chotu made Shree laugh, teased him and he teased back, their twinkling eyes and carefree flow of conversation, how they filled each other about their day, wanted to know what the other did. The easy camradie, the trust. Riya has never seen something like this, and in that moment craved it desperately. Even though she can never be carefree the way Shree is. She mostly talked in her head, and people don’t really look past statistics.

On the way back, she cautiously asked Chotu, “Are you two friends?” He laughed, maybe at the way she asked, or at the obvious answer.

“I hope so.” He teased, “I am smuggling him office gossip and outside food. I better be his friend.” Shaking head, he said after a while, “We are. Probably my only friend these days.” He turned to her, careful with his driving, “What about you?”

“I have no friends.” It was quick, absolute, and ultimate answer. “Never had. None liked me.” She said too quickly,

“I don’t think that’s true, Riya.” His voice was sympathetic.

“No, in sixth grade someone actually said that.” She was casual on it, “How is it like, being friends with someone?”

“Share things, I guess.” He answered, smiling wistfully, “Even if you don’t to, just be content with that person. Easy, if I might say. You don’t have to pretend, and other person is comfortable too. That’s friendship for me.” She nodded as if that was a fact written in book, “If it’s okay with you, I can be your friend. You will understand it too.”

She mulled about it, answering nothing.