Teen teegada

ACP Arjun Rawte one day observed the Dr, who usually hide inside file room for hours until it was her time to shine, sitting near the conference room table, face almost buried inside a file. Her feet was up on the chair, of course, and he just stared incredulously at that for a while, before taking a chair. His stare was unabashed and curious, and when the Dr looked up, craning neck as she winced in pain, she was startled.

“Something urgent?” He asked as if he did not care about the answer. Riya pressed lips, glancing at the report quickly before answering.

“Did you read the autopsy report for the last case?” She meant the bone one. A good few weeks have passed and there was no need for mentioning it, unless she has found something amiss. Suddenly worried, he sat up straight.

“I did.” Maybe not as thoroughly as her, “What is it?”

“This report on bones, on how victims died, is brilliant.” He blinked at the line of answer, “I asked Rathore sir about the doctor who was working on it, and he promised me to give the Dr’s details. But he has been busy.”

He had to take a few minutes to answer, “And . . . you trying to find the doctor through the report? Like what, profile him?”

“It can be her too, Doctors and nurses are generally more a stream where women are encouraged to pursue, due to their inherent nature of nurturing and caring.” Arjun’s brow shot up at that, “The Dr has in depth knowledge of his or her subject, the report is impeccable. I think someone who has been in department for a long time. It says D’cruz, I went through the database and in Central lab there are five doctors with that surname. On one side, the knowledge on these pages says it has to someone aged, maybe age bracket of 30 to 45? But the writing says it’s not true.”

“What’s wrong with the writing?” He did not really care, and yet here he was, asking questions. She will probably go on with this for the entire day- there has to be a reason Rathore has hold her off meeting this forensic doctor.

“The older officers have a distinct style of writing. I saw yours, Chotu’s and Shree’s reports. The word choice is different, the paragraphs are different, the younger generation report is more concise.” He had half of mind of being indignant like she is calling me old? But she was not finished yet, “This forensic report is more like how Shree might write. Therefore maybe someone in their mid twenties or earlier thirties, but with very good knowledge. That will also mean the Dr was exposed to information like that for a long time- maybe a family member working for department? Or maybe he or she is a genius.”

From a piece of paper she got all that. The next time, Arjun decided he will try to look harder in a piece of paper. Maybe he won’t get that much information as her, but he was always up learning. Internally musing, he frowned when Riya looked at her ever present, black wrist watch, then turning pages back and forth, not really reading them as she moved quickly,

“Coffee.” She declared out of nowhere, and maybe she was too busy in her head or the fact that ACP Rawte only have his cutting chai which is supplied from a stall down the street, she asked him nothing, turned on her heels and walked away. Arjun almost did not follow her- like why should he- but then Shree was heading towards same direction, hence decided to accompany the former. Shree don’t really like her and she goes out of way to actively avoid him, especially after the former has returned. He has vehemently opposed work from home idea hence Rathore had threatened him with permanent desk job if he even moves a single wrong way or have any pain. He can’t go to field, has to stay in office within strict hours and help the team.

He should not care, and yet. . .

Riya was staring the coffee kept under the machine which was full and cooling off now, lost in her head. When Shree cleared his throat to inform his presence, she almost jumped out of her skin. To soften the look of panic on his face, she hastily grabbed the mug and quickly put 3 cubes of sugar in that, ready to leave.

“Good morning.” He greeted. She was surprised at the almost pleasant tone.

“Morning.” She mumbled, really not looking at him. She should leave, “I will just . . . “ But he won’t move, and the air will grow thick with tension. Exhaling almost angrily, Shree decided to start.

“This is awkward, and I am as bad as you.” She looked up at his words, “I just wanted to thank you. For saving my life. And apologize for being rude since the time you arrived. There was absolutely no need for that, and I will try to be better.”

“You don’t like me.” Riya said so easily, with utmost certainty that the former blinked, almost laughing in disbelieve.

“It’s not that Ri . . . Riya.” He glanced sideways, then steeled himself as he met her confused eyes, “You remind me of someone. So much, that sometime it gets very hard to look at you or be in your presence. But that’s my mess to sort out, hence the next time I feel it is too much, I will get some fresh air. That’s not your mistake, and I will be better from now on. I swear.”

Dr. Mukherjee did not know much about relationships, but she almost asked him - is it the same person who’s word is written on your wrist? Chotu and she had stayed with Shree one night when he fell asleep, and Riya had removed his wrist watch before leaving. The small engraved word- Chasmish- was there, right above his pulse point. Maybe that’s why he is always careful to hide it- under a long sleeve t-shirt, or his ever present watch. Maybe it’s the soulmate Chotu had informed her other day. She wondered who was this person, if she reminds him of her.

Or maybe it was someone else about whom she had no business to think about.

ACP Rawte arrived, eyeing the two suspiciously. Shree greeted him a good morning, gave a quick nod to Riya and left hastily. Arjun looked for any trace of conflict, but there was none- albeit, a few questions.

ETF had a case where an escort had died during . . . activities, and of course, it was a relative of some minister and the said minister wanted to clear name. Arjun at times wondered if Raghu sir was punishing him by putting him in here, knowing how much he despised the fu  ckers who was always using them to put across their own agenda. This was a team to clear up ministers and their relative’s mess, and did not envy Rathore once his position as Chief to be in the front. God knows he would have just punched on their smug, power filled face even if things looked a bit shady.

The CSI team from State lab had covered the body with a white sheet for modesty, but has left the hands tied up like police had found it. Chotu mingled with the team quickly- Shree needed these pictures and reports, Rathore started to speak with the police and Arjun glanced around the hotel room, mentally taking in the opulence. There was a bottle of half finished rum which probably cost 5 months of his salary, the suspect’s iphone, designer suit and Gucci shoes. He had pricey taste, judging by the escort. She was beautiful, young and from the perfectly shaped nails on her hands and feet, and the make up, she came from a reputed agency. Probably a high end one.

The suspect was kept in another hotel room and Rawte walked towards that. Riya stood frozen beside the bed of victim, uncaring of things going on around her. She gets lost like that, Arjun at times wonder if she is mentally making a timeline of how things might have happen or she mourns for the dead.

On the way back, she asked about the suspect- Forest Minister’s brother in law who works as a CA in a big firm, and Arjun started. He did not look like he did it, if one can say that from facial expression and body language. He was nervous, of course, and called a lawyer before he even called the police. The lawyer was ever present and it might be tough, but from the general look of the hotel it did not look like anything was amiss. Apparently, in the thores of passion, he had grabbed her throat. Not too tightly, as seen on her body. But she has gone into shock and stopped moving, and he hastily checked for pulse. When he found nothing, he called the lawyer, police and an ambulance. The ambulance came within 10 minutes, but she was dead by then.

“Apparently there was a contract.” He finished, and of course, out of everything, this will grab her attention.

“Can we . . . “ He nodded even before she could ask.

“Rathore has already put a request for the documents. We will get it soon.” She looked pleased with herself, and just like earlier, looked at her watch, almost impatient at whatever she was expecting. But Arjun had some other burning curiosity. For all the talks of not caring of people, it was quite hypocritical how he casually asked about Shree- not like she wanted him to intervene, or he particularly cared about the Dr’s relationship with his colleagues.

“He said thank you.” She shrugged, as if that did not matter.

“He should.” At his firm tone she looked up, “You saved his life.”

“That should not have come to that.” She said softly, and he frowned, “We were right there. I was on the other side of house, not that far. But I heard nothing. I should not have found him like that- injured.” Swallowing, she looked outside the SUV.

“But you did hear, and you rushed to him.”

“He would not have gotten hurt if we did not walk into that house.” She was adamant, “Should have informed you. Or Rathore sir. Or Chotu.”

“Who’s idea was that?” She grimaced at the question, and things got abundantly clear for Rawte, “Shree’s right?” He sighed when she said nothing, “You need to know something about Shree. One time, we found a website- disgusting website, during a case. Pedophilic content.” Her eyes widened at that, “Was linked to someone high profile, as usual. Rathore had pulled on every connection he had, I did the same, but it was taking time. Shree just went ahead and shut down the entire site, and whenever someone will click on the website link, they could see a big middle finger right in front of the screen.” She smiled a bit at that, “Rathore gave him left right and center, I was right there. But Shree never apologized, never looked down. He had no guilt, no remorse. The point of this tale was, even though Shree is our tech support, he has a drive and quiet ruthlessness to go through a crime, just like the rest of us. And that is why he went to that house, because he wanted to see it through. He is a capable officer hence he walked in, it was unfortunate what happened, but he is capable. And you had no hand in that.”

She did not answer, and Rawte can only hope the words had gotten through her.

In the evening, Riya’s hand wringing and nervous glancing at watch got tenfold. It has to be serious, as she contributed nothing for the case- a promise of document which consisted three thousand pages and she won’t latch onto it until Rathore was ready to pull out his hair, it was not possible. But Arjun had a feeling whatever it was, she will come to them.

And she did.

Once the team meeting had died down, she opened her office laptop, face nervous. Then out of nowhere, it break out on a smile.

Rathore was the first one to say something even though Arjun observed it first, “It’s published?”

“Yes.” Triumphant, she turned the laptop around. With long strides, the Chief crossed the space, hovering on the laptop as others crowded around her. The London university has finally published her paper, and congratulations flew immediately.

“This will help in the research paper so much.” She gushed, accepting a hand shake from Chotu. Shree gave a small, tight lipped smile, but he was happy too.

“So will you be Dr. Dr. Mukherjee? Double doctor?” He teased, making her chuckle.

Around 5.30pm, the team was ready to leave- new case was here, but not much to go to until they get the CSI reports, crime scene pictures and the contract documents. Riya was booking a cab, but Arjun Rawte came with his SUV, honking at her. She sat down and he immediately asked, “Any plan for later?”

She shook head, borrows furrowing in concentration as the seat belt won’t latch. Shaking head, he took it from her fingers and closed it in one flick of wrist.

“I am heading towards Central Lab. Let’s meet your Dr. D’cruz, shall we?” She gave a surprised, wide smile at his words, “A good day, right?”

The Dr. Asked many questions- was it a male or female doctor? How old is he or she? Does they know ETF was coming to meet them? At the last question Arjun gave a look as if she was forgetting something, and she looked down hastily, suddenly self conscious. Apparently, the Dr. Usually had a night shift, and the in the building when they arrived.

They waited in a corridor full of cabins, Riya sitting on a line of chair and Arjun casually leaned against wall. Her eyes will go around the doors at times and he had to try hard to keep his amusement in check- so impatient. But then, her hunger for knowledge, albeit things people don’t really care about, probably helped her in her education.

One of the heavy, metallic door burst open and a woman came out, and the first couple of things they saw were her casual shoes, white lab coat and thick, long curly hair pulled together with a big clip. With her a few people came out too- most likely students, judging by their notebooks and age. The woman’s chatter filled the quiet corridor and Arjun stood straight, Riya looking at him in question.

“Dr. D’cruz?” The woman turned around in question, thickly coated kohled eyes curious. But then she noticed Riya, who by this time stood up in anticipation, and almost rushed to greet them.

“Dr. Mukherjee?” She extended hand with a wide grin, and Arjun looked at her in question. But like him, Riya had no idea. Dr. D’cruz saw her glove covered hand, cursed, took it out and offered her hand again.

“Dr. Liza D’cruz.” They hands shook and Arjun followed the interlinked hands, jumping in air up and down, “Pleased to meet you. Great fan!”

Turns out, Dr. Liza D’cruz, working in central forensic lab from past 7 years (recruited when she was 20) knew Dr. Mukherjee from her research papers and prolific writing she does in many psychological and crime based journals, and also knew about London University paper. When she knew the paper was published, another round of hand shaking followed, and Riya’s eyes met Arjun’s awkwardly, no doubt taken aback at the display of affection. Liza’s uncle heads the CFL, and also a followed of Mukherjee. Getting an opening, Riya started on her gushing on the bone reports, and Arjun for a moment if he should excuse himself so that the two of them can open their fan school and gush about each other. He had barely spoken other than the initial greeting, and casually looked at the watch once- almost an hour has passed and they were still in the corridor. Liza did not move, and of course Riya did not ask.

Liza followed his line of sight and cursed again, apologized for her forgetfulness and asked for a dinner. Riya looked like she was about to agree, and Arjun warily wondered for someone who finds out how a murderer will be from a crime scene, how can she not acknowledge someone else’s feelings or even bloody ask.

“You can leave if you wish so, ACP.” Liza turned to him, and behind her Riya gave a nod, waving hand to bid him a goodbye before he even decided on that, “I will drop you home Dr. Mukherjee, if it’s okay?”

“Riya please. It’s fine.”

“I want to come, if it’s okay with you two.” The ladies head turned at his words, and for a moment even he was thinking why he was doing this. He will be bored, they would not even notice him, and judging by Dr. Liza’s attire, she will visit in an expensive restaurant. He did not know about Riya, but he can’t afford shelling out a couple of thousands in the middle of month. But he told to himself it was because of Riya- he picked her up from office, so he should drop her home. They have barely met the bone doctor (Rathore called her that) and it did not feel right the former will drop her home. But the ladies did not work overtime to find reasons for his answers like his mind did, and in no time they headed outside.

Predictably, the dinner was boring. And of course, like every time he was with Riya, he was ignored and felt like he did not even exist in the vicinity. Dr. Liza was like another version of the former- sister from another mother, if one can say so. Ocean full of knowledge, when she starts it’s hard to make her stop, and when the other person starts speaking looks in wonder, eyes wide. She praised ETF a lot when Riya mentioned maybe this stint will help start the use of profiling in a more professional way in department, and Liza turned to Arjun. Suddenly at the attention, he blinked, almost physically backing away.

“They should. Why aren’t you?”

“Well, Doctor.” He took a sip of water, “I am not the chief. But be assured, the current one will bring a lot of changes if the powers to be let him.” Whatever their differences be, Rawte will defend Rathore to anyone.

“This is the first step he did and it’s good. I hope he backs her up ahead.” Then turned to Riya, and once again he was forgotten. By the end of dinner there were numbers exchanged, promises to catch up through mail (Riya apparently have no social media sites, not even a messenger or whatsapp) and books recommendation list. He had to, in exasperation, whisper to Riya that maybe they should leave- the dinner had gone on for almost 4 hours. Bidding goodbye, they went to their separate ways.

But Dr. D’cruz was least on their minds a few days later. The escort case has gone to nowhere- she died by overdosing, forensics confirmed it. The minister had handed it over to them so that they can sign off the suspect and maybe the truth was that the relative did nothing wrong. And yet, Riya won’t have it. For the first time anyone of them even heard her raising voice, and that too towards Rathore in his cabin as he patiently tried to explain that no matter what they do or what suspicion she has, the forensics said the escort died by OD. It was an accident that it happened in that moment, but it was inevitable.

“I read the documents. 3123 pages.” She almost threw some crime scenes photos on Rathore’s desk and Arjun, till this time standing in one corner of the room just to have a good look at the showdown, came forward. Exhaling in frustration, Rathore joined in too. “They had a contract- activities to do, how many times a week, method of communication, he even had a chart of what she can eat, what she should wear.”

“That’s come with the territory of BDSM contract, Riya.” Rathore was trying to be polite, but Rawte could feel his patience going off any time.

“I read on that yes. But there is a 678 pages on a topic of activities. Toys they can use, if he can choke her, if he can tie her hands or feet or if its just the feet. Nowhere it says, nowhere, that he can hurt her. But he did. There were cigerette burns on her body. The marks around her wrist, those are not just from rope. His finger prints were on them, in deep blue.” She pointed at the photos, breathing heavily. Something had set her off in these pictures.

“Riya, I understand what you are trying to say.” Rathore said once again, “But you say it yourself, forensics don’t lie.”

“If she was taking drugs . . . “

“There was no if.” He cut her off, “The drugs were in her system for a long time. Maybe even months. There are lasting effects from the chemicals which is mentioned in drug report.”

“And he became her client in last few months.”

“What you are trying to say, he made her an addict?” He was incredulous.

“Maybe. Or maybe she was coping.”

“Coping from what?”

“That he was physically hurting her!” Her voice broke at the high pitch, and a pin drop silence followed. After a while Riya backed off, ran a hand in front of her shirt unnecessarily, licked her lips and started, “He was hurting her. He made those marks- those burns, the hand prints. Who knows how else he was hurting.”

“That’s a lot of presumption.” Rathore shot a thankful look to his second in command as Arjun decided to intervene at last, “That he hurt her, or he made her an addict. We have no evidence to back that up. And if he was hurting her, she was an high profile escort. She could have reported it to her agency.” That service was another sore point- there was another parallel investigation was going on in that agency who’s madam has absconded by now.

“Maybe she did. Maybe they did not care.”

“You always back up your claim with facts. Cold, hard facts. This maybe won’t fly, Riya.” Arjun took a step towards her, voice hard - Rathore has been patient, but even if he tries he can’t be. Whatever it was bothering her, either she comes clean or support it with some evidence, “You go through those reports and contract again. And again. And when you find something you come to us.”

“He did not commit a murder, Riya.” Rathore spoke softly.

“But he did hurt her.” Her voice was ominous, eyes glaring into nothing, “And she is not here to verify those claims.”

But even though he was firm with his words, Arjun felt this nag inside him, eyes darting around to have a look at the Dr. Just few weeks earlier, he was so mad at the printing personal record thing that he could not stay in her vicinity- almost felt like he would shout at her or he may do something physically. But he did not shout, which was another mystery even to him. Even through blind anger which almost made him punch the opposite wall, he could still hear her words echoing- I don’t like shouting.- and even though the haze he remembered and respected that. He tried to ask himself why in the following weeks- the previous case, Shree, him voluntarily sitting beside her and taking offense at the old comment. Why, why and why.

There was another why which gnawed at him as why there was no change from her side. He had thought she will be scared of him, or guarded- people tend to be those things once they hear the dead wife and slashed wrists stories- but she was as normal as she was before. He was relieved, and also curious. Maybe like everything else apart from her books and files in that dusty record room, it did not matter too. But for too long everyone of them had put her on that level- distant, aloof and observing things. Riya herself does nothing to change it. But they had seen that she cares, and Arjun Rawte, for the first time, in years wondered why she did not care about his story that much.

It was confusing and jumbled and probably that’s the reason he burst out the following night on her. She was still obsessing over those autopsy reports and contract, shoulder hunched as she sat long hours on the chair in conference room. Rathore has given up by now- she would come around, he said. Chotu did the same, and Shree was unsure as he had no right. That left Arjun, and even though Rathore had said to be kind to her, he had enough in that moment. Crossing the remaining distance between her and his cabin, he towered over her. Her frame stiffened immediately, and after a while she looked up. The exhausted face and five mugs of ETF coffee mug on the table made him grit teeth in frustration- it was almost 11.30pm.

“Any plans to go home tonight?” And how hypocritical is that. He has no home, he has a lodge where he goes for shower and dress change. He had no right to even lecture her on this. In response, Riya’s eyes glanced at the clock, realizing how late the time was. Slowly, she got up, gathering the pictures and files around her. He snatched them away, trying very hard to keep voice down.

“You can’t take that.”

“Why?”

“ETF property, that’s why.” Which was complete bullshit. She came here primarily because of her own research agenda, right? Also, many times she had borrowed files from the record room, he has seen that and commented. Her lips pursued, but did not reach out to take the files from him or object to that.

“I will ask for a mail then.” She reached for her laptop but he took that away too, closing the lid with a bang.

“Damn it, Riya, let it go!” His voice did go high, but the next moment he was hissing on her face, “There is nothing on the autopsy reports, nothing! He did not kill her, it was a OD. Why don’t you stop obsessing over it?”

“I can’t.” Her voice was raw.

“Why?” Crossing arms over chest, he glared at her. He, for the life of him, can’t imagine what was so fascinating about this case that has taken her senses away. He understood the need to bring justice, even retribution, but this did not seem like one of those.

When she looked up, her eyes were red and teary, but those were as stubborn as her, “I can’t.” She emphasized, immediately looking down, “I understand that you don’t trust me. . . “

He shut that down immediately, “This is not a matter of trust. It’s the reports. Facts, evidences, something which you swear by. The victim died by OD, and it happened in an unfortunate time. There is nothing to see here, it’s as clear as day. Would not even come to us if . . . “ He trailed off.

“You know this girl, she come from Nasik.” She started talking out of nowhere, making him sigh in impatience. This was a waste of time, she is not going to be over it, “Joined the agency at the age of 17. Or maybe, forced to join. The statistics on women and children forced into prostitution in India is . . . “

“I know the numbers.” He cut her off, “It’s the common age to bring girls into this. Abduction, lies, other ways of trafficking.”

“She was part of agency for 4 years till now. But she never did drugs.” She continued as if he never spoke, “Why now?”

“Maybe because she needed an outlet. It was a horrible situation for her, Riya. People have their ways of coping.”

“Something triggered the chemicals to make her heart stop.” She looked down at the floor stubbornly, “Maybe he did not actively murdered her, but he was responsible. There had to be some punishment for that.”

He sighed, taking a step toward her, “You went through the files. You know the facts. I don’t know what issues you have with this particular case, but you need to stop. There is no point, and the guy will walk out of this building as a free man.”

“My only issue is . . . “ She met his eyes and the unshed, almost angry tears made him start, “that none should get hurt physically. Beating is horrible. Just because bruises has faded doesn’t mean the hurt has gone away.”

He stared at her for a long time.

Dr. Liza D’cruz officially joined ETF after half day full of meetings and paperworks. This opportunity could not have come at a better time, and of course Dr. Mukherjee being there was the major reason to take the sudden transfer. When she was finished, she headed for the main floor immediately, eyes looking for the woman she had met not 4 days ago. Near the small canteen she found her sitting on top of table, feet dangling in air and waved hand to say Hi. The Dr. Looked surprised, a gave a thin smile back, returning the wave with one of hers.

There was a man standing in front of her, and when he turned, Liza could almost feel her heart stop. And judging by the look on his face, it happened to him as well, so she tried to school her features immediately, put on a smile and moved toward them.

“Say hello to the new employee.” She declared, trying very hard to not stare at the stiff man gawking at the two. Riya looked curious, but before she could ask another giant man entered, eyes immediately finding Liza.

“Dr. D’cruz, right?” They shook hand, “Chandrakant Patil. Rathore sir asked you to collect ID card and security clearance from ground floor before leaving. Till that . . . “ He handed over a temporary card to her, and she put it around her neck the next moment, grinning at him.

“Oh, you guys are here.” He started introduction, “Dr. Riya Mukherjee, she is new too. Helping us on criminal profiling and investigation. And this is Shreekant Sen, tech genius and backbone of the team.” Shree tried to smile, giving a nod to Chotu as he smiled warmly, “We will be lost without him.”

“I know.” Liza was not sure about whom she was talking about, “I actually met Dr. Mukherjee,” Before Riya could interject, she put hands in air, placating, “Riya, a few days back. I am really looking forward to work with her.” Chotu raised eyes comically and she added, smiling back at the warm man, “And you too.”

Shree excused himself the next moment, and frankly, it was better like that. But there was a tensed atmosphere around which had nothing to do with her own turmoil about bumping into her ex out of nowhere, neither it was about the general ETF team full of men. Chotu filled her on quickly (She won’t call him that, Mr. Patil it was)- about the OD case, Riya brooding on a seemingly simple case and Rathore sir dragging his feet on official report because of her. The next day, she found Riya sitting on the floor of dusty ETF record room, and offered her two cents on the autopsy reports. This convo brought back some life into her- she had barely spoken since yesterday, and looked lost inside her head.

“I am sorry for being a bad company.” Riya said once they were done discussion the reports. Liza smiled easily at that.

“You had a lot of thing in mind.” Hesitating, she added, “If I may say so, please don’t take in a wrong way. We have a way of projecting our own feelings into someone else. For example this case- a young girl, most likely forced into prostitution. A rich man accused of murder. This is like a classic cliche, this sort of thing we expect from a ‘rich guy’, is not it?” She air quoted that, “And I heard your theory, but I am sorry that there is nothing backing up those claims. Dead body did not speak much this time.”

“Do they in other time?” Riya smiled a little.

“You will be surprised.” Liza stood up, waving a goodbye and left. Riya stared at the place for a long time after she was gone.

“Maybe, she did not want to tell her story even after death.” She wondered aloud.

Arjun Rawte found Riya sitting on the stairs of ETF building, and glanced ahead. The suspect had officially gotten a clean chit on the case, and he was leaving in his fancy, foreign SUV. Surprisingly, Riya had not objected or said nothing about it- given up, they all assumed. Even though he had asked her that, it somehow stung to see her so withdrawn.

“He got a clean chit.” He spoke in a way of greeting, but she did not look up.

“You know Liza said dead bodies speak.” Nodding silently at that, he took it as a cue to sit next to her. “Do you think they do?”

“I think you will understand that better. You like biology, don’t you?”

“But they speak only about their death. Or maybe how they lived- if they were into unhealthy food, if they liked working out, if they had long tiring hours sitting on a chair. Those sorts of things.” She looked at him, “But they don’t say what they felt. If they were happy.”

“That’s how hiding emotions came to be.” He replied, “Private thoughts. Hidden scars. We don’t like to be vulnerable around others. We don’t want pity. We want to get by.” He was not even sure what he was talking about, or what she was even asking.

“Do you think she did not want to tell her story even in her death?”

“I think that it was a tragic death.” He sighed, eyes sympathetic, “She was failed at many stages in her life, and if we collectively as a society did better, she would not have died. There are lakhs like her around us, and we work everyday to stop that. Sometime we stop, sometime we fail.”

She looked ahead, silence descending around them for a long time before whispering, “He hurt her. I know you might say . . . “

“That’s what we call gut feeling. That may or may not have been true.”

“If he was responsible, where is the justice in his walking off this?”

Arjun remembered an old conversation with someone, and involuntarily words escaped his lips, “There is a theory of karmic justice. Karma. What you do is received in ten folds- kindness or crime, alike. You do good to others, you receive goodness. You do bad things, you have a horrible life and everything will crash around you. Maybe he is up for karma too.”

She looked like she did not believe him, and frankly, he did not believe those words too. He was a cynic once, but he was a disbeliever now. Especially after everything that happened to him.

“But bad things happen to good people too. So criminal gets their karma? For their crime?”

He was amused, “Maybe we are the justice warrior. Delivering karma left right and center.” Her lips twitched at that, eyes a bit light. The clouds are going off, but it will be a long time since she became normal. Or maybe that’s a new normal. Things they do, things they see, one can’t go back to the way they were before. They become wary, hardened. And once again, he wondered what was her motivation to even come to this field. With her brilliance and knack for knowledge, she could have been a teacher, or researcher. But she chose to come here, and take these blows day after day to her soul.

Why?

“I am sorry.” He was thrown back to reality at her words. “That file printing thing. I should not have done that.” He looked back blankly, “But that was a mistake, a stupid mistake. I did not want that file to be printed. I will be careful next time.”

“Did you read any of it?” He had to ask. She shook head.

“No.” She stressed on it, almost whining, “Why would I read that? I did not want that. I wanted something else, and I ripped those papers away. Stupid mistake.” She said again, irritated at her own actions, “Won’t be repeated again. I promise.”

He almost smiled at the words, suddenly relieved. It was stupid too, like her actions- his story was plastered on everyone’s psych. He walks into a room and everyone knows his past. It was only a matter of time she knew his story too, but he took solace in the fact that it was not her going behind his back. Someday, if need arise, she will know it. Maybe from his mouth or with his consent.

He got up and offered his hand, and she took it without any hesitation.

Dr. Mukherjee mostly preferred book to people, and a fellow bookworm, Liza, only encouraged her on it. They swapped books and papers and had long hours of conversation as the former sat on the desk of forensic lab. (Rathore had given a whole floor to Liza, and since it was mostly her and 2-3 staffs now, it was too empty. Their words echo when they speak a bit loudly, but he has promised in next few months they will have more manpower.) Chotu had teased her that how Riya forgot her old friends in the view of new, but apart from narrowed eyes and small protest, she did nothing to counter that.

And then, out of nowhere, Liza gave her a worn out copy of Pride and Prejudice. They all were in the room when she handed over, and the only person who recognized the title was Shree. He looked away immediately, and the rest of men became intrigued when the women started talking on it. Apparently, it was a classic. That too, a love story.

“Er . . . “ Riya was doubtful, shuffling a few pages and looking back at the grinning CSI officer in confusion.

“Trust me. Read it.” Liza was adamant. So of course, she did. It got to a point when she read it between car rides, during case meetings. Rathore was openly irritated- he wanted her to contribute on cases, but she would not. Or even if she said something, it was halfway, without any depth. Sternly, he had said once or twice to concentrate, but it was evident her mind was somewhere else.

There was a murder case, of course. Rich person, of course, but thankfully no minister this time wanted them to investigate for their own agenda. This rich person had a row with an art collector, and not 2 days later, he died. There was solid alibi and witnesses backing his claims, and yet something was off. Rathore had even let Arjun do his interrogation tactic- intimidation, shouting, the nine yards. But the rich guy took it all with a lazy smirk, sure that he will get away.

The team visited the rich person’s house on a Monday morning, and of course, Arjun has been to here already so he chose to stare at the damn book of pride and prejudice in her hands. He was never interested in art, and this house had nothing other than that- sculptures, paintings, artifacts, statues. Old and new. If it was some other time, Riya would have gone on and on about ancient art related crime or the numbers on it, but the only time she spoke was with the man’s secretary- on a painting. It was 230 years old, came from France, as per the PA’s words.

In the evening, she was seemingly done with the book, and Arjun just lingered- for no reason at all. Maybe to get a source of amusement, or to scoff on her words. But he stayed when Liza arrived, took a seat opposite the Dr. Rathore was not there, but the juniors were. From the look of his face, Shree wanted to be anywhere but here, but Chotu wanted to witness this, so he remained.

“You read so fast.” Liza sighed dreamily, “What do you think?”

“I think the 18th century life was depicted well, particularly . . . “ Before Riya can explain that, the former shook head.

“I mean the love story. Mr. Darcy?”

“I have some question on that.” She nodded at her, “He was aloof before. Almost rude. And later he said that he was rude because he was shy.”

“Yes.” Liza was enthusiastic and the men glanced at each other, “The whole idea is to how never judge someone by their behavior. Like wickham was so friendly, right. But you know how it went. Bloody scum.”

“But this book implies that rudeness and shy means almost same.” Out of nowhere, Riya pointed at Arjun, and Liza blinked in surprise- at the suddenness, or the fact that he was sitting here listening to them, “For example he is rude. But he is not shy.”

At the words, Shree spit out his coffee all over his laptop. Chotu was shaking with laughter now, and Arjun felt like he should say something, but he was speechless- at her insinuation, or how frank she was, or maybe it was how she linked a fictional character and thought about him. Liza almost ran to fetch a box of tissues, and Shree took with a mumbled ‘Thank you’.

“It was supposed to be an example. I don’t think the writer meant that for all people.” Hastily looking at ACP Rawte, Liza stammered, “I think I should leave you guys to work.”

“You think?” Chotu asked, hiding his laughter. Not much later, they all scattered away.

Now that the book topic was over, Dr. Mukherjee was laser focused on the case. The ETF team had gone through each point over and over again, there was nothing amiss in forensics, or the witness, or the alibi. Rathore was in particular irritated- this rich guy had a history of crimes, but he was never implicated. He needed one thing to put him to jail.

One evening, Riya knocked at his cabin, nervously glancing at the two men, “I am sorry, I was not much active in the case.”

“Reading love story during work time.” Arjun dryly said, and Rathore shot him a look.

“It’s fine, Riya. Do you have something?”

“I was wondering,” She came near his desk, “there was no evidence that he was the killer. But what if he goes to jail for some other related crime, will that buy us more time for a confession or any other clue?”

The duo glanced at each other, “I am listening.” The chief said.

Turned out, even though the Darcy confusion and going through the book in an lightning speed does not mean things slipped by her head. During the visit in house, Riya had noticed some artifacts- tablets, specifically. Apparently those came from Syria- dark market for ancient artifacts loots these rich, war crime affected places and sells them so that they can finance the rebels. Once it was established what she saw was similar to a missing object in Syria, Rathore gave his own two cents on how it came to India. After a few phone calls, putting together the reports and consulting with seniors, they arrested the man on the theft of ancient artifact, money laundering and illegal smuggling. Once words got out, foreign agencies got involved, which meant even though he could not be in jail for a murder, he was going to stay inside for a long time for stealing.

The case was done, just like countless others were done before it and will be solved after it. It was normal- as normal it could be with ETF. And then suddenly one day, Rathore informed them that Chotu will be gone for a few weeks. Where, why, when, nothing was answered. Arjun was curious, but asking would mean he cared, which he did not. He slyly tried dropping hints, but Rathore was tight lipped, which only meant one thing- the orders came from above. Subconsciously, he was looking at Riya to figure it out, and was surprised that it came to that point. That he hoped for someone else point of view on things besides his own.

Few days before Chotu was supposed to go for ‘leave’, the Dr. Was patiently explaining about linguistics and how people uses words to express their personality traits to Liza. Arjun was sitting in his usual seat, poker face intact as usual- he has been through this exercise. The CSI was animated and curious, and surprisingly Shree asked questions too.

And then midway of her babble, Riya stopped, frowning at Chotu, who stood near them. Startled at the sudden attention, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Ri?” At some point he had started to call her that. She never corrected him.

“You are going to Chattisgarh, are not you?” His eyes almost bulged comically at that, mouth falling open. She smiled thinly, “Oh, you are. Now it makes sense.” Then suddenly, she turned to Arjun, who was caught staring at the Chattisgarh comment, “His writing! Did not I say Shree and he writes differently?” She wondered out loud, “Infirmary, huh. I should have seen it before.”

“Seen what?” Shree asked, Liza’s head turning at his at the question.

“He is military.”

“Close enough, but not quite.” Chotu smiled, eyes glinting with pride. Riya thought for a moment before hesitantly asking.

“But you are from Defense.” Pausing, she added, “Commando?”

“You know I can’t answer that.” She deflated at that, and the giant man blinked at others, almost forgetting they had an audience, “Sorry about the secrecy, but not really my call.”

“But Chattisgarh . . . “ Liza trailed off.

“Recent maoist attacks.” Arjun muttered, looking at the inspector (or he had a different title?) in a new light. Others looked at each other in concern, and sensing the heavy atmosphere, Chotu decided to lighten the mood.

“How did you know about the infirmary part?” He was amused, and almost did not expect a straight reply to this.

“My Mom says that too. She was in army.” Nonchalant, Riya replied, going back to her files. The attention went as quickly as it came, “I did hear there will be more officers sent down there. Situation is more serious than it’s shown in news.” But all the focus had shifted to her mother being in army comment. This was the first time she had ever revealed about her family life voluntarily.

“She must have a great circle.” Arjun said from the other side. She nodded absent minded.

“Yeah, also she is in many committees. After SSC she did not really leave.” Then she looked up at Chotu, suddenly laser focused on him again, “You will be careful, right?’

He gave a thin smile in return.

Chandrakant Patil left the next day, and suddenly Riya was all alone. He was the first man who warmed upto her, actively seek her out and indulged her. With him came a loneliness she was used to, but felt more pressing than ever. The seniors were busy, Arjun Rawte sits but he has his work to deal with- pretty sure he is working on something in his spare time. Shree tries to fill in, but beyond ‘Good morning’ and ‘Good nights’, it did not really move ahead. Liza is busy with expansion of CSI, and also . . .

One evening Riya went downstairs to lab, and just when her fingers were about to turn the knob of the doctor’s lab, she heard voices.

“. . . did not really talk about we both working together.” it was Liza, “In same team, in same office, same building, same boss.”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Specky.”

“I would rather if you call me by Shreekant. Not specky, not chasmish, Shreekant.”

Riya turned on her heels and left quietly.

Probably this loneliness coupled with research work and slow ETF days lack of any compelling case pushed her to this path which will change her life forever. In an old case file, she came across this case where a man poisoned his family over a course of three decades. He started when he was 15, and by the time he was 47, he had killed 9 members, including a 7 year old kid, by slow poison. Hitesh Damre, this man was kept in a maximum security prison. A lot of was written on him, particularly by a criminal journalist named Sakshi Anand, who was with him in school and wrote dozens on book on his case, and now sort of a true crime expert. But there was something about him- she was not sure what. Maybe it’s how he started so young, or that he did not kill anyone else outside his family. Or that there was any motive for him to do the killings, he was not mentally unstable. Or maybe it’s that he never talked about it- neither confessed, neither denied. Did not even speak to his lawyer, apparently. Almost 5 years of silence.

So she visited him one day in prison, used her ETF id card for security clearance and internally winced as to how to explain this in case Rathore sir comes to know about it. Damre was kept in his cell, separated by iron bars and thick glass wall. He stared, unblinking, as if she was the only thing keeping him in place.

“Hello.” She greeted softly, suddenly nervous. He answered nothing- not that day, not the other days when she visited. With time, his stare became used to, so Riya started to sit on the ground and read a book or two to spend hours in there. But he never spoke, neither did she ask anything or greeted. She was allowed 2 hours max, 3 times a week. She visited each day, sat for exactly those hours.

But she had to miss 2 days in a week, as finally, ETF had a case which needed her expertise. Eerily similar to how Damre killed his family, another family was targeted. Its members were killed shockingly in various accidents over a period of 15 years, and everyone was suspect. It was only when last week, the eldest member of family died and it was discovered that someone had deliberately removed his life support, this case got attention. Media uproar, of course, and Sakshi Anand. After all, she had history with cases like this.

Rathore wont entertain her no matter how much she requests to shadow the team for this case. She would do back to back interviews, to the point all channels had her face and the ETF chief effectively banned TV on his floor- apparently, looking at her face gave him headache. Amid all these media uproar and expected pressure, ETF along with newly formed CSI and police department put together the case, and the chief wanted a profile as quickly as possible on the suspect. The family was a joint one, with over 38 members. It was tough to narrow down, and Rawte had a very good point- just because statistics supported female, doesn’t mean they get to rule out the women as killer. Hence the suspect count was large. Some of them had alibi for the accidents occurred, some did not. And as the killer is supposed to be one, or maybe a pair, nobody could pin point any common denominator in the deaths.

Riya had narrowed down a basic profile- most likely a man (there was a death which involved knowledge of cars, and not many women in family knew about vehicles) and he worked alone, judging by the year long planning. When someone works in pair, there are signs of impatience, she said.

“Signs how?” Arjun asked one day, absent minded taking in mugs of ETF coffee near her side of desk. Rathore looked through the pictures of earlier deaths, Shree listened to them keenly. Even Liza was there, giving her expertise on the deaths.

“When someone works in a pair, there is a dominant partner, and a submissive partner. Two similar personalities will clash, it won’t be an equal partnership.”

“Like good cop and bad cop.” Shree muttered, immediately looking at the seniors in panic. Apart from Arjun’s raised eyebrow, there was nothing.

“Murder is about power, about showing what they can do well. And these,” She pointed at the white canvas they all have started to address as murder board, “are the planning of decades. It’s  long time. Chances are the submissive partner may have changed now. There has to be a friction, which means it will show on murders. Any sign of hurry, not doing the work perfectly, but there is nothing. So most likely he . . . “

“Or she.” Rathore interjected, barely looking up from his file. Riya looked like as if she did not agree, but said nothing.

“the killer worked alone. It was better that way. He had lot of time to plan and execute these.”

“But he, or she,” Arjun said, “did make mistake on the last death. Why? What changed?”

“I was asking myself same thing.” Riya muttered to herself, and that was the last thing she said for a few days. She had clearly hit a dead end, and with that her behaviors became erratic- no food, muttering to herself, going through files and books in flash, shutting out everyone. And the silence- it’s almost like nobody else was around her. It was actually a relief when one evening, she burst through Rathore’s cabin, startling the men inside. There was no knock, no apology.

“I need an official clearance to meet someone.” She was bouncing on her feet, which only meant she had a break through. Arjun and Shree turned to Rathore with identical frowns at her request.

“Who?” But her answer did not come, and he looked irritated, “Damre, is not it?”

“Who?” Arjun asked.

“The Ville parle poisoner.” Rathore muttered, turning to his colleague, “You remember, right? Killed his family members for over two decades? Sakshi Anand wrote books on him and got famous.” At his realization, the Chief turned to the woman, “You were visiting him for weeks, why?” At her blink of surprise, he sighed, “You really think we have no record of where and when ETF clearance is being used? It’s just that I did not ask.”

“You were meeting a serial killer?” Arjun was part outraged, part incredulous. Riya glanced at Shree, who looked away guiltily.

“Can I get a one on one meeting with him?”

“You met him for weeks, I think you guys are best friends now.” He crossed arms over chest, scowling.

“He did not speak anything.” She muttered, looking away, “Maybe something official will make him talk.”

“He did not speak during his hearing, he did not speak to media, and he did not speak for 5 years.” Rathore’s voice rose, “And he will speak now, why?”

“He got an admirer, did not he?” Shree answered, making them surprise, “Or, a copy cat killer. This case is similar to his. Should intrigue him, I guess.”

“I was thinking about asking help from officials, but it’s good too.” She nodded at his suggestion, then turned to Rathore, as serious as she was previously, “Can I get visiting hours?”

He stared, but they all knew the decision was already made.

Arjun was sent as a ‘baby sitter’ (he did not say it, it was implied). ETF was understaffed but apparently Rathore could do without him for one day. He was not particularly happy about it- like what’s great about visiting a silent killer in a high security prison cell anyway? But he was even more pissed at the Dr. He can’t believe her stupidity that she would go visit such a heinous man, research or morbid curiosity be damned. Probably sensing his volatile mood, her head was bent down to a book, the pages almost touching her nose.

He gritted teeth before speaking or else he will start shouting, “What were you thinking?” From the corner of his eye, he saw her stiffening, “Visiting a murderer like him, that too alone? Nobody knew.”

“Rathore sir did.” She mumbled.

“Even he was disappointed.” Her face fell at that, and he felt a bit of anger melting away. Okay, maybe not disappointed, but this so unlikely of her. Or whatever they have come to know about her anyway.

But do they?

“He planned murders for decades, he spoke nothing, he was meticulous with is planning, acted solo. With exactly 345 days of cooling period between murders.” She was muttering to herself, “Sounded fascinating.”

“Did he share any tips?” He snarked, glaring into nothing. She shook head.

“I sat outside his cell and he said nothing. Not one word.” She exhaled, irritated with herself, “Maybe going to him is futile. But I want to try.”

“Official arm twisting might open his mouth.”

“I doubt that.” She spoke slowly, “If he wanted to say something, he would.”

Arjun did not want to think why she was so sure about that murderer.

It started with the usual procedure- ACP Rawte along with prison guards and other higher official sitting inside a room, Damre arriving, legs and hands tied in chain. He sat calmly, looked at them as if he could see right past them, and saw nothing. He did not move, he did not flinch at the warnings or raised voices. He was like a bloody statue, and suddenly it made Arjun uneasy. Not because of his futile exercise, but how empty he was inside.

There is no satisfaction in punishment if there is no reaction from it.

They were taking a break- more like, Arjun was. He needed to get the hell out of that room, call Rathore, grab Riya and leave. Before leaving, he heard a voice- snake like whisper, low, but firm.

“Bring in the Dr.”

Of course, Riya jumped at the opportunity. Arjun could only glare at her and restrained himself to physically hold her in place, and silently prayed to Rathore who was on speakerphone to put some sense into it. But she had impeccable convincing skills, and with a muttered ‘Keep an eye’, the Chief cut the call. Before Arjun could recover from that, Riya had walked off, other officers looking between them- probably thinking what the hell was she doing.

Riya would have wanted to stand in the same room as Damre, but Arjun put his foot down so they were back to original arrangement- separated by steel bars and glasses, on the farthest side prison officers and Rawte stood and watched. Guards were on alert- apparently Damre had no record of violence inside prison. Just to be on safe side, they mused.

“Did you speak for the first time in 5 years?” Riya started with the most unusual question. Nothing shifted on Damre’s eyes, except his eyes- if Arjun could say it as curiosity. Fascination too, he guessed.

“I hum to myself.”

“What do you sing?”

“Old classical music. Gharanas. Mother was a big fan.” She nodded at that, “You did not come to visit.”

“Ah, yes.” She looked down guiltily, “New case.”

“That family killer.”

“Uh huh.”

“You think it’s a copy?”

“Or maybe an admirer.” She countered, looking right into his eyes, “They gave you the files. What do you think?”

Next 46 minutes passed as Damre sat on the bed inside his cell, and Riya sat on ground- just like she does, apparently. And yes, Arjun was keeping a tab. He could feel others getting impatient, and just when he was going to say something, or even move from his statue like posture, Damre closed the file and looked at Riya. Sensing the gaze, she did the same, spine straightening. On the other side, Arjun mimicked the same.

“What’s you theory?”

Riya blinked, “I was hoping you got one.” Damre shook head from the other side, lips twitched to almost smile.

“You did not come here because you did not have a theory.” He stood up and moved until he was pressed against the glass wall, towering over her even though there were ample distance between them, “You have theory. You just want to cross check.”

“How are you so sure?”

“You picked me, did not you? Came to this prison, outside this cell, kept coming back even though I said nothing. Never asked anything.” Pausing, he whispered, “Tell me, Dr. Are you lonely?”

Arjun cursed under his breath, but Riya seemed composed. “How is it related to the case?”

“Give and take policy. Something yours, something mine.”

Riya looked down, and Arjun realized along with Damre, even he was waiting for the answer. She was lonely, that was her nature. She liked being with her books and her theories and random topics and even when she is surrounded by people, she was lost in her head. But he did not think Damre was asking the same.

“I am lonely by choice, if you can say that.” She answered after a long time. The man on the other side was not satisfied, hence she continued, “You probably saw my bio.”

“College at 17, two PhDs.”

“Did not really grow up socializing.”

“Family?”

“You probably read that too.”

“Come on, Dr.” He gave a tooth bared grin, and Arjun felt the shudder going through the whole room, “We both know I was not asking that.” When she did not reply, he pressed, “Friends?”

“I got one.” She nodded, and he looked satisfied. Arjun looked away suddenly- this was useless. They were not getting anything, but that killer was going in her head. He did not like it.

“Where is he?”

“Away.”

“You are worried about him.” Damre observed. Riya nodded at that.

“I am. He is away on a complicated work.” Shrugging off, she asked, an edge to her tone, “Can I get my answers now?”

He looked at her for a long time, scrutinizing. Arjun had enough when the silence stretched on- just when he was about to go out there, Damre spoke up. And in that moment, he did not know if he wanted his silence, or this talking was dangerous.

“Tell me about your theory on the killer.” Now that the topic was back on the current case, Riya seemed more at ease. Lively, if one can say that. What is this woman, nobody can even comprehend. She was talking to him as if discussing a thesis paper with a professor. She mentioned about possibility of a solo killer, meticulous planning, between 20 to 45 age range. Most likely a man. Not outright angry, very calm and composed.

Damre gave a thin smile once she was done, “Sounds like my admirer, doesn’t it?” Then the smile went as quickly as it came, “The profiling seems correct. That’s what its called, right?” Riya nodded at that, “How did you come up with age bracket?”

“Judging by how he kills, I guess. When he was younger, he was more at home, hence people around house was killed. Once he grew up, went outside, his vision expanded. He had ways to do so. Also agility. He pushed off a car, that needs strength.”

He hummed at that, “Various killing methods.” He gave a small smile again, “But you are not asking what you want to, Dr. Ask me.”

Taking a deep breath, Riya did so, “Why were you caught?”

“I killed my mother. That’s all I ever fantasized about, all my life. Once that happened, I slipped up. Wasn’t really into killing, hence I got caught.”

“Sakshi Anand has a different take.”

“That woman knows horseshit.” His voice became hard, and Riya unconsciously moved back. Exhaling slowly, he went back to his monotone, “I got caught because I slipped up- agility, lack of ambition, motivation. It was tiresome. If it was upto me I would have been somewhere else. Killing when I had the urges. But this guy.” He pointed the filed lying on his bed, “he is giving up. He is not in control. He wants out.”

“His planning was impeccable till now.”

He tapped at his forehead, making Riya frown. But he won’t say anything else and she stared back, until Arjun Rawte arrived, fixed the two with a glare and physically pulled her away by her shoulders.

Riya kept thinking about the head tapping.

Arjun was furious, and he could only express that through almost rash driving- barely legal level so that they don’t up dead, with rough handling of steering and glaring things to ashes. Only someone like Riya could tune him out in that kind of mood, and it was only when he was hissing, audible enough that it reached her ears, she looked up.

“You spent an hour talking to a serial killer.” Pausing, he added, “What’s wrong with you?” But he immediately realized his folly, and he looked at her, eyes apologetic. Riya could only stare back with blank look in her eyes, the kind when she is trapped in her own head. His words stung, but nothing like she never heard.

“You know, there was a study back in 1920s in Russia where scientists kept some inmates locked in a room for 30 days. They were given everything- food, water, entertainment, books. But not sleep. Not one blink of sleep for the entirety of 30 days. Slowly, people started to go insane. Scratched on nails, tried to harm themselves. Majority became insane, sleep deprivation does grave harm to people. Some survived, and they were called De-chi-na-mi. Meaning . . .”

“Anomaly.” Arjun whispered, throat tight. “I . . . “ Clearing throat, he continued, “I did not mean that.”

“I think you did.”

“No.” He replied, an edge to his tone, “I did not mean something is wrong with you. It’s just . . . why you would you seek him out like that?” A thought suddenly occurred to him, “Was he right? Did you to him because you were lonely?” When he put it like that, it made him sick. Her silence only lingered after his question.

“I was fascinated by him. I am. If I had someone with me he or she may have stopped me.” She turned to look at him, blinking at the look on his face- guilt and rage. “No blame to anyone. I may have gone anyway. Is not it good that I went to him first and this case came up?”

Not trusting his voice, Arjun looked away.

The case only got even more twisted after that. There was another attack in the family house- this time, killer left a 10 month old baby in bathtub, and it was only by a sheer luck that ETF was present there- mainly Arjun and Riya. The moment the family realized the kid was not there, the ACP ran like bat out of hell. He was successful in rescuing the baby, and when Riya looked at the way he was with the child- soft, careful, protective, she wondered he probably had some deep connection with children.

He looked back at her, nobody saying a word.

Arjun took the baby killing thing personally, and the ETF chief had two obsessive team mates on his hands. But that was the least of his worries, as one early morning the Dr. Gave her a call, voice hesitant and low.

“Er . . . “ She hesitated, “Sorry to call you this time, but there are some people in front of my house. With cameras and mics. Do you happen to know anything about that?”

Sameera was seething, and the next call was to Sakshi Anand, who picked it up as if she was waiting for it, “Hello, Chief.”

“This is low.” He hissed, “How in the world you knew where Dr. Mukherjee lives?”

“ETF asking for help from a serial killer, is not the title so fascinating?” She sighed happily.

“Take your dogs off her house.”

“I asked you if I can shadow.” She sing song. “You brought it on yourself, now handle.” But she did not immediately disconnect, knowing she had him now. Rathore took a few deep breaths, analyzed pros and cons, then replied calmly.

“No shadowing.” She tutted at that, “Whatever report we find, I will personally mail it to you first. Autopsy, witness statement, victim identities, the whole ballpark. Sakshi Anand exclusive.”

“I can live with that.” She cut the call.

Rathore took Shree on his way to the Dr.s house, partially to keep himself calm, also to have a backup option in case the media people creates uproar and they need to leave fast. They entered through the main road, reporters swimming around them. He knocked on the door, and an older woman opened. Quickly the men got in, and they walked inside. Riya was sitting on a chair next to dining table, face grim and dressed in casuals. It was so odd to see her outside well dressed professional clothes that the men had to pause.

“Um.” She got up, looking at the three, “Thanks for being here.” Turning to the woman, she forced a smile, “My Mother, Rupali Mukherjee. ETF chief Sameer Rathore, security analyst Shreekant Sen.” They shook head, and Rathore looked down at their joined hands- even at this age, she got a strong handshake. Army does that.

“I am sorry for the chaos outside, Ma’am.” He bowed head, their holds releasing.

“I thought this whole excursion was about researching.” Her voice and the expression told them they were not welcomed, neither was Riya’s work. The woman in question looked down hastily.

“It’s a leak. We are fixing it as we speak, they will be gone in no time and this won’t be repeated.” Some uncomfortable moments and forced conversation later, they saw the media people leaving one by one. Once they were sure nobody was around, the men left the house.

On the way, Shree was the first one to break, “Her mother,” Clearing throat, he hurried, “quite a woman.”

Rathore had to bit his cheek to stop smiling, “Is that so, Shree?” The lightness in his eyes made the former exhale in relief.

“Stern. And . . . it was like she was not pleased. Not because of the media, it felt . . . “ Halting, he shook head, “Should not say that. Her Mother.”

Rathore hummed, letting the topic be.

Post the baby drowning incident, the team had narrowed down a list of suspects. They had the court orders and did the whole nine yards- polygraph, finger prints, blood collection, swabs. Nothing matched, nothing was miss. ACP Rawte’s temper rose each day and it looked like he did not leave office even for a change of clothes. He shouted, and on the other side Riya brooded, going silent as a monk. She went over the reports from decades ago, she Shree and Liza spoke at lengths on the autopsy files, but nothing came out of it.

One night, the seniors along with Riya sat inside Rathore’s cabin, going over the files. Riya, absent minded as she was these days, was doing that forehead tapping thing what Damre showed her, and Arjun just stared at the action, feeling rage bubbling inside. Rathore was saying something, but stopped, looking at the two of them.

“I should go back.” She mumbled to herself.

“No.” Arjun could have shouted that- his quiet tone was enough to boom across the room. Startled, Riya looked at him, a frown between her brows. Then she turned to Rathore.

“Damre was doing this.” She did the forehead tapping again, “Told me to look harder. Told me killer was asking for a way out. Maybe he has seen something I have not.”

“You again want to go there?” Arjun got up so fast that the chair moved under him, “Do you have any self preservation or not? He is playing mind games with you, Riya. Taking pieces of you. And you are giving him away, voluntarily.”

“What are you talking about?” Rathore demanded. With great difficulty Rawte moved his murderous glare from Riya.

“Damre was doing psycho babble bullshit with her.” He spit out the words, “Asked about her family. Education, friends, if she was lonely. And she!” He pointed a finger, and Riya moved behind, “She gave it all away. Chit chatting as if they were friends.”

“Riya!” Rathore chastised, “You should not have. You know that.”

“Nothing he said or asked was a private thing.” She tried to defend herself, “He knew it all just with a google click.”

“I don’t care. He was fishing for information and you gave him.”

“He did not do anything. I am fine.”

“And what if he asks you something more hard this time?” Arjun crossed arms over chest, “Ask if you watched someone die. Ask if your mother hit you in your childhood.”

“Rawte.” Rathore warned.

“Or ask if you ever wanted to harm yourself. Or ask if you hated someone so much that you wanted to kill them. Can you answer truthfully? If you lie, he will know.” Satisfied with his point, Arjun relaxed his stance. Riya stared back blankly at the two of them.

“Good thing I never had those urges. Or any bad memories.”

“Not the point!”

“I understand if you don’t want to be there. You can be here . . . “

“You don’t get to decide whether I should be with you or not.” Rawte gritted teeth, looking around in frustration. Rathore looked at two, and Riya knew it was her time.

“One last meeting. I have this strong feeling that he knows something. He saw something that was in those files which we all missed. Please.” she begged, “The killer tried to harm a baby. It’s already crossed a limit. If it’s a cry for capture, we need to move fast. Please.”

Of course, Rathore gave in. And of course, ACP Rawte went with her. He glared all the way and back and spoke nothing, slammed doors and tortured the car. Riya watched him warily, knowing the case is better to focus on.

Damre looked like he was expecting her, “You came early.”

“I wanted to know the meaning of,” She did the forehead tap, making him smile widely, “What’s that?”

“You are in urgency. What changed?”

“The killer tried to harm a baby.” There was a pause from both side, his smile slowly vanishing.

“He is desperate.”

“We have done everything. Polygraph, fingerprints, blood, alibi cross check. None fits.” She was at her wits end. “I know you have an idea. Please share.”

“Give and take, remember.” She jutted her chin.

“Ask then.”

“Where is your Father?” At the surprised question, she stilled a bit. It remained only for a few seconds, but to Arjun, who was witnessing from the other side like last time, it felt like a lifetime. Nobody knew about her Father. She never volunteered, and he doubted it was something she wanted to answer- to a killer, to a room full of unknown people.

“I don’t know.” At Damre’s confused look, Riya clarified, “Never saw him. Never knew him. He never existed in my life.”

“Would you like to know?”

“Maybe he is dead. Maybe he wanted nothing to do with me.”

“And how does that make you feel?” Damre was curious, leaning on the glass slightly.

“Feelings means conclusion, and conclusions are based on evidences, aren’t they? What’s right in front of you? He is not here, he was never around, and that’s the fact. If there is nothing, there is no emotions attached. No feelings.” She shrugged. The former did not say anything- probably speechless at her casual way of saying it, maybe trying to look for deception. When he had looked thorough and was satisfied, he frowned.

“So logical, so calculative all the time. Is not it?” He shook head, “Is there someone for whom your heart beats?”

“My answer, please?” She did not even hesitate.

“You should do a different kind of test. To gauge the suspects minds. What’s it called, IQ test?” He scratched head. Riya stood up straight.

“EQ.”

“Ah, yes.” He nodded, “Emotional quotient. Should be off the charts.” Smirking, he continued, “You know there is a study on how sociopaths copy someone else facial expression to look the same as they don’t know how to show their real feelings. They can’t feel. Let’s see what you killer does in a closed room.”

Riya ran back to the other side.

They did the EQ test, and the killer was revealed- 47 years old middle son of the family. Should have looked harder, with the all the problems surrounded by middle child. Shree mused quietly. They rushed for the house with an arrest warrant, and found the killer trying to smother the mother of the baby he tried to kill earlier with a pillow. With a shriek she tried to move, but was frozen at the killer, the guns and general air of danger around them.

The killer fell on his knees when he saw ETF, “Please.” He sobbed, “Help me.”

Chotu returned three days after the killer was captured- the media gave him the title of Sakinaka slayer, and each time Liza read that she laughed, her entire frame shaking and eyes full of tears of laughter. The forensic Doctor was trying to make the other doctor understand what was so funny, Shree almost taking part, but refraining- should not get that much involved, he mused.

“I leave for a few weeks and you make a new friend.” Riya turned at the familiar voice, smiling widely, “I am wounded, really.” Chotu walked in, Rathore behind. Arjun was in his cabin, going through some random file he did not even remember now that his junior was back. The Dr. Ran to him as if she was going to hug him, but settled for a firm handshake, both of them grinning at each other. There were general pleasantries exchanged and the team sat down, Rathore leaving them to be. On his way he got a call from Dustin sir.

“Did she really went to visit freaking ville parle poisoner?” Now that case was solved, Rathore decided the only way he could deal with the ridiculousness of it all is by humor.

“Sir, you are asking or you want to confirm?” At that, the older man laughed.

“Good point, Rathore. Should note expect anything less, I guess.” His voice went firm the next moment, “When you told me you are thinking to bring her onboard, I thought it was more like a desk job. Staying inside building, behind four walls. But life is unpredictable like that.”

“I try my best.”

“I understand that. Just . . . don’t let people like Sakshi Anand be around her. Riya, with all her bookish knowledge and profiling, still don’t get how cruel and opportunistic people can be. This job will teach her, but maybe . . . “

“We can give her time.” Rathore nodded, understanding and agreeing completely, “I will try my best.”

“Thank you.”