Chaar ka vaar

ACP Arjun Rawte is not really of an envious man. The only negative emotion one can find in him is anger, and that too mostly comes with the injustice of the world and his own personal trauma. Before Dr. Mukherjee entered, he was the smartest person in the room- he would mouth off theories, and no matter how much troubled those were, rest of them would follow. Rathore, despite his rank and being the only man who can match his stubbornness, have always given him a wide berth- cautious, yet indulging. Probably solving a case is better than wasting time butting head with the angry, MLA slapping ACP. But these days, that don’t happen. The room full of people look at Dr. Mukherjee and she delivers, and even though Rawte can question her methods or the way she dives into something head first, he also looks upto that. The point is, if he was an envious man, he would have hated her guts.

He does dislike her at times. Admires her at most. But envy- never. Awed, yes, many times.

He don’t really go for parties- never cared about social circle before and after his wife’s untimely, cruel demise, and police officer parties are the worst kind. But this was the anniversary party of his once upon a time Boss, Raghu Ram, hence he had to be there, albeit sulking. But party became interesting when an alluring woman introduced herself- Maya, as it suited her. Maybe a year or two older than him, soon to be divorcee, from the way she dressed and carried herself seemed like someone grew up with money. When they shook hand he sensed the callousness in those, especially between thumb and index finger. He felt maybe she was in academics, and she confirmed it later- professor of physics.

Before Dr. Mukherjee, he would not have tried to gauge someone’s career by shaking their hands.

Maya was charming- not in a flirtatious way. She quoted from literature which felt like it had a deeper meaning, could held her drink and her smile, it was almost as if she was playing a character. And yet nothing was amiss. They played chess when the party died down and a lot of people left, and he remained not because he was interested in her, but in her character. Her smoky eyes and alluring words were intriguing for him.

He won the chase, but she got his queen. Once they left party, he remembered her for exact 2 hours.

Arjun walked into office and found a previously empty wall now had a big dart board, and Chotu was already practicing on it, showing the Dr. Techniques as she watched keenly. Shree straightened a bit when he saw him, but the former paid him no heed as he walked into his cabin. From there, he noticed Chotu’s fingers curled and uncurled around the arrows, almost as if missing weight in those. His shoulders looked hunched, and he rolled them occasionally, trying to brush off something.

A few days later, ETF got called in for a murder. Rich man, secrecy, all that jazz. When he saw the body, he had to physically restrain himself to flinch.

It was Maya.

She had a knife wound, Liza informed them once she snapped out of her awe at the big, mansion like house. She bled to death, and her alluring eyes were now empty, staring into nothingness. Everything seemed to blur around Arjun when he knelt beside her, and closed her eyelids.

The Dr. Saw everything, and as usual asked nothing.

The suspect was Maya’s estranged husband- they lived in same house and shared a bed, and yet they apparently had no relationship. They did not talk about their lives, their routines, what was their goals. There was no affair, no motive of money, no anger issues between them. They were conditioned to live like that- rich people apparently lived and slept with their spouses like room mates. Arjun almost glared at the man who was so casual, such at ease with the death of his wife- he can’t comprehend how is he so calm. But then, he is misguided, trying to put his own trauma onto someone else. Also, people don’t really feel for their room mate’s dying.

The team was throwing off their ideas at the conference table after 18 hours of on/off interrogation of the husband and house staff of the house. They were almost at a consensus that the husband did it and even though Rathore was cautious about ‘innocent until proven guilty’ his orders made it look like they are going for the same. Everyone left, except the Dr. And Arjun. She was silent, and team has gotten used to her monk like silence now. She was playing with a red pen absent mindedly, and Arjun blinked- she was trying to mimic how he does his pen trick.

“What are you doing?” He asked unnecessarily.

“Trying to copy.” He looked away at her distracted reply, eyes on the dart board.

“Who bought it?”

“Shree did.” She sat up straight, fully focused on him, “He thought it will be helpful. It is, isn’t it?” At his blank look she frowned, “You did not notice.” Pausing, she added with a small tone, “You did not notice.”

“What?” He was almost defensive.

“Chotu looked like he was . . . what did Shree say?” She made a face, trying to rake her brain, “on cliff?”

“On edge.” Arjun had to bite back a smile.

“Yes. That.” She bobbed her head, “It was right though. He is walking as if he still have weight around his shoulders. There are other forms of PTSD as well, I was reading the other day.” He rolled eyes. Of course she was.

“You shared it with Rathore?”

“Ah ha.” She was distracted again, looking at the board. The Dr. Moved her chair, wheeled to the place where the darts were kept, came back and just as Arjun was getting up, threw the dart at the board. It barely missed Shree, who had just reentered.

“Riya!” He chastised, hand on chest. Unable to stop the snort coming, Arjun walked out as fast as possible, listening to the half hearted apologies of the Dr.

It was one of those shady cases which seemed so easy to solve, and yet nothing moved for days afterwards. Suspecting someone is not same as proving them as guilty- the husband was suspicious, sure. He didn’t feel his wife getting up from bed, or her absence, even didn’t notice anything off in the house. He did not know anything was miss in the house until police called him to inform him about the murder. He was at work, he had proper alibi for each seconds, his staffs had alibis and witnesses for their every movements. It was almost like everyone was on it, however absurd it was. There was no external entries, no theft, no emotional stress, no attempted assault. Nothing, and yet someone died. It nagged on Arjun more- even though he knew this woman only for a few hours, he wanted to solve it. His focus was obsessively on the chess board game the woman had in her room- she apparently played with herself at leisure, and he had this hunch that it held keys to the answers. If Rathore looked like he had become insane, even pitied him due to similar nature of the case, he did not notice.

Riya, for some reason, didn’t really put forward her inputs on the case. Not like she was uninterested, but the ACP was much more fascinating and she felt like this was a case he felt like he needed to solve. They all seemed to wait on Rawte to work on it, with his obsession with the chess board and snapping at anyone who would insinuate this case was worthless. Still, she was thinking about the murder one day, jugging a basketball from one hand to another as she roamed in the empty court in the backyard of ETF office. When she looked up after a particular chain of thought, Rawte was staring from a window, all the way above from the 7th floor. After a blink, he was gone, and Riya, unable to help herself, headed towards office. Finding him in the meeting room as he stared intently at the board, she asked, “What are you looking for?”

He leaned back on his seat with a deep sigh, eyes still on the board, “I . . . there has to be something in it.”

“Why?”

“Because she liked the game. She had all the metaphors about game imitating life.” He stopped abruptly at her curious gaze, “What do you know about chess?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged, looking away at his surprised glance, “Never played. Was never interested.”

“But was interested in basketball?” Snarking, he went back to staring at the board, “There has to be something.”

Riya kept standing near him, and after a while picked up the crime scene photos lying next to the board. As Arjun played with a few moves, she picked up a picture which had the board in it’s previous condition, “Tell me about the game.”

“Riya, I don’t have . . . “

“What’s the purpose of this game?” She pressed, and he was annoyed.

“What’s purpose of any game? To score, is not it? Cricket is about runs and wickets, football is about goals, poker is about stealth, golf is about putting a tiny ball in a hole. This game . . . “ He motioned with his hands, “is about strategy. This line, these are soldiers. And this line belongs to be important characters- King, queen, horse. You need to protect the king, or else you lose the game. Checkmate.” Arjun kept on talking about the players and how they move, and after a while Riya zoned out- again, not because of the lack of interest, but wondering how the chess pieces fit into the murder. Or if they did. Arjun, sensing her mind diverted, exhaled a frustrated breath. He stopped abruptly, and glared a hole at the floor.

“Horse can move in any direction, right?” Riya asked after a while, staring at the picture in her hand, “And it’s 2 and a half steps?” Not realizing the ACP’s foul mood, she looked at him, almost thrashing the photo in his hand, “Then why the lady was playing like she was going to lose the King?”

Frowning, Arjun took the photo, and blinked when he realized she was right. Shree entered then, eyes shifting from one to another. The men started talking about Chess- Shree is playing chess for decades now, it seemed. The ACP was mentioning maybe Maya could not finish the game, and hence the game was paused at a step where her King was in danger. If Shree found it was odd that the Boss was fixated on a game, he did not comment- they all were used to his mercurial mood. But then he noticed something, and asked, “What’s that?”

Turned out, Riya had picked the queen piece from board, and was rotating it around her fingers like Rawte always do with his pen- completely absent minded. Shree felt like he saw something shiny in the piece, and when he took it, he found it was a fancy pen drive. After overcoming the surprise, he made a run for his laptop, and the trio hunched over the device to see what the drive hold- and they were not disappointed. There was pictures of property papers, inside the country, outside, details about cash, hidden bank accounts and contact details. Maya’s husband was into something which held a lot of money, and somehow she had access to all of it. They showed it to Rathore immediately, who realized they had enough evidence now to bring him in. Liza cleared that the evidence was authentic, and the seniors discussed that maybe they should meet the lawyer of Maya’s husband- most likely he won’t open mouth, but at least it may give them some sort of clue while Rathore and Chotu grill the husband.

Inside the car, Riya spoke aloud, “Liza said ‘May god be with you’.” Arjun gave an eye roll on that.

“There is no God, Riya.”

“But there must be some higher power.” The former gave a quick glance at her at the reply.

“You believe in God? Really?”

“I believe in higher power- chance, destiny, fate, kismet. If it’s God, be it.” At his look of disbelieve, she asked, “What part of this is surprising?”

“You believe in science, logic.”

“My faith has nothing to do with either of those. Logic don’t tell me not to believe.”

“If God is up there why don’t they fix the world? Why it let us suffer?”

Riya gave a tiny smile at that, “That’s the first question any atheist ask.”

“Well, is it wrong?”

“I think it’s a very simple way to look at things. If you want to question on people’s suffering, what about you acknowledge the good too?” Before Arjun can reply, she continued, “You have clothes, your limbs are intact. You earn, you are physically healthy. You have a sound mind, you have a kind of stability. You are privileged. But some people on this earth are not, so you can question ‘Why they suffer? God must not exist.’ But what about your comfort? If their misfortune means God may not care or exist, what about your state?”

“I worked hard to be where I am.”

“Everyone did. But there were small moments which led you here. You studied hard, you made some decisions. A single moment started it all, resulting in you being here. If you had made a few decisions differently, or a few things changed, your life would have been different.” She shrugged, “External factors matters. No matter how much we work hard, there are always some other things at play.”

Arjun let out a rare smirk at her words, “So you believe in external factors for yourself too?”

“Sure.” She agreed easily, “My Mother noticed me. She put me to classes as per my intellect. My teachers cared. I wrote thesis paper and they were published because in that exact moment, I had the idea to write them. Knowledge was there, but timing mattered. Just like timing mattered when I came here.” Pausing, she went on a ramble. “Timing always matter. The universe was created at a specific time. The first form of life was created at a precise time. Evolution of human, the society. To think it all started by a touch of luck. God, external factors, higher power, whatever you say.” She turned to him, all excited, “Earth is such a perfect place in this galaxy that only we, apparently, can have life. Other planets are not habitable for us. There are signs of life, not life itself. What does that mean?”

Shaking head, also slightly dazed at this unexpected conversation, Arjun said, “I don’t believe in external factors. Human are capable enough to sustain, to build and to live. The earth was created because of science. Man made it what it is today. We are what we aim for.”

“So you think you are God.” She stated, making him look away to hide his smile, “Almighty of your world.”

He hummed, and the conversation died.

The lawyer, predictably, said nothing- not threat, not patient exchange of words could help. Bound by client confidentiality, but Arjun just wanted a hint. Even a small line will help, but the lawyer just shook head and said sorry.

Just when Arjun had turned on his heels and was ready to march out, Riya asked, “Is not this painting by Lio de Woodsen?” Apparently, a single dot followed by lines painted on a black canvas was modern art. The lawyer confirmed it was, and a few minutes passed chattering on it. Just when Arjun was ready to yell at the two, she said, “You know, our suspect have painting from the exact same seller.”

The smile slipped from his face, “Are you trying to insinuate something, Miss?”

“It’s Dr. Actually.” She correctly quickly, “And no. Just wondering what are the odds that a painting of a 20th century painter who’s name you can’t even pronounce properly is hung in your office.” Pausing, she added, “Did he gift you this?”

After that, things become easier. Lawyer gave a hint on where to look, and after they arrived in ETF, they passed it on to others as they grilled the husband. Arjun went inside immediately, both the seniors staring down the husband who did not break a sweat.

“Tell me about your profiling.” Shree asked, surprising Riya, and from her other side Chotu raised an eyebrow, mimicking her expression. Taking a few moments, she replied.

“The killer was known to her- I guess this was obvious judging by the way we found her. No external injury- bruising, assault, any other form of signs for struggle. Not a professional killer- there were multiple stab wounds, the killer was not sure if they hit the correct organs, enough to let her die. He was gentle with her, fixed her clothes, her hair was tucked behind ears, even her necklace was placed properly.”

“He cared.” Chotu commented.

“Yes.” She nodded, “The killer probably stood there, watching her bleed to death.”

“The eyes?” Shree asked, and she nodded again. “What does it mean? The killer had to flee?”

“No. The killer had ample time.” She turned to look inside the room, “The killer wanted to see life draining out of her. The killer wanted himself to be the last person she ever saw. A cold blooded murderer. Not an ounce of remorse. It was done because it was necessary.”

In the end, the husband cracked- and he confessed in such a matter of fact fashion that everyone had to take a moment to sink it in. Maybe it was arrogance that he would be out soon, or maybe he was actually a narcissist psychopath. But Riya was much more fascinated in Rathore sir’s interrogation tactic- apparently, as Chotu informed, he is well trained in process of interrogation and extracting confessions. He receives invite all the time for conducting interviews on behalf of other agencies, and have helped a lot of criminals to bring into justice. Of course, she went after Rathore post the revelation, and an exasperated, also preening Rathore promised that the next time he goes anywhere for interviewing a suspect, she will come along.

Arjun don’t think about people much. Not if they are not related to a case they were solving. He casually observes people, picks on their expression and the physical signs, but never into it. So of course, he has no opinion on the new Dr too- Cruz was odd, at times very inappropriate. She cracks jokes, not unsympathetic, but more ironical. Dark humour. She is completely smitten with the other Dr. In the team- her face lits up every time Riya enters a room, greet her a wave. Their heads are always hunched together on something, they exchange books and theories and share knowledge. ‘Nerds’, Shree had whispered once.

Really, he should not have been surprised today. It was almost 8pm, and Riya was gone in Doc’s lab to nerd about an old case and the forensic aspect of it. There was no work, and Arjun wanted to get to his hotel room and immerse in his favorite activity- keep feet on table, lean back on a cheap unstable plastic chair and read his favorite red file. They had this unspoken thing where he ends up being the one who always drops her home- even when he is pissed and won’t want to be anywhere near her. Irritated, he started to walk down the lab.

The moment he pushed the door open for lab, a shriek followed.

The room was pitch black dark, and he could only see Riya’s face- illuminated by light, as she stared at him mutely, eyes wide. The doctor was incoherent, and unable to take the ranting (she had, at a point, started Hail mary full of grace the lord is with thee) he switched on all the lights inside. Liza cracked one eye open, finally silent, and seeing him standing there, turned red. The phone was still on- audio of what felt like a horror movie was ongoing, and he raised an eyebrow.

Inside the car, he could not help himself, “You two were watching movie? Horror movie?”

“Uh, no.” Riya jerked into present, and at his glare clarified, “No, no. Not a horror movie. Not even a movie per se.”

“Theatre?” He asked, sarcastic.

“Adaptation would be a better fit. Of a classic novel.” Shifting in her seat, she turned to him, “Do you know about this particular book called Wuthering heights?”

He frowned at the familiar name, “Bronte?” Riya nodded excitedly, “Whatever stuff soul is made of, your and mine are the same?”

She blinked, “Yes.” Shrugging, she continued, “It’s always portrayed in the popular culture as a love story, but it’s a gothic horror. I told Liza that, and she was showing me this brilliant screenplay . . . “

“And I entered when?”

“An apparition was putting a hand through a glass window.” She admitted, making him look away as he tried to still a laughter bubbling inside, “The timing was so accurate.”

“You were afraid.”

“I was startled. It was like I knew this could not be true, but it was true.” Riya frowned, “Did you ever encounter such an incident when you could not believe your eyes? Or your brain?”

Oh, he did remember

All the good mood vanished after that. Sensing his shift, Riya become silent for the rest of the journey.

There was this bizarre case of Haunting in some old castle on the outskirts of city, and how it came to them is even more bizarre. Chotu was narrating the story.

“So Jaypal and Ishai were saying . . . “

“Those two drunks.” Shree cut into it, shaking head, “You believe those two drunk over common sense?”

“Who is Jaypal and Ishai?” Riya asked.

“They stay in basti.” Chotu replied, and after a moment of silent he repeated, “Yes, I stay in a basti.”

“Can I see?” The former laughed at the question, but Shree was impatient. Sensing his gaze, Riya said, “Story, please?”

“Shree was right. These are drunks- they can’t sleep without alcohol, they know every adda that’s available in shadiest of places. So 1 week ago, it was a dry day. These two idiots went after dark, and got a dealer. In their alcohol filled mind, they felt it’s a good idea to roam around on their bikes. They stopped in front of a old abandoned castle- not really a castle, but build like one. Unfinished. So Ishai said there was thick fog, and they started to see horrible things. Like nightmares. Jaypal was having a chest pain due to the hallucinations, and somehow they were able to flee the place.”

“Did they stop drinking after it?” Shree snark.

“Actually, they did.” Chotu mused, “Maybe I should pay a visit to this place. Offer my thanks.”

So Chotu did, and the next day everyone knew something was wrong. He held himself so still as if a live wire. He flinched at any sound, any movement. Riya has been with the team for a short time, but she could tell none knew what to do- not even Shree felt like he can intervene. Thankfully, around afternoon, Chotu vanished inside Rathore’s cabin. After hours of talk, the two came out.

And they got the haunted case.

ACP Rawte could not hide his disgust at the time waste, and yet, he went with the rest of them. If something was bad enough that it shook their calm, collected, composed commando of team, maybe there is something amiss. Just for the heck of it, Rathore invited Liza too, who, upon arriving, made a comment about team outing.

“I would have picked a better place.” At Arjun’s withering glare, she shrunk, “But never mind.” Mumbling, she looked away.

The ghost was last seen after midnight, so the team reached there around 12. it was a windy day, and when it crashed against the half finished, century old ‘castle’, it made a sound not unlike a horror movie.

“You know what this reminds me?” Liza could not whisper over the wind, hence everyone could hear.

“What?” Riya asked, looking at the flashlight in her hand.

“Oh Heathcliffeeee!” The doctor let out a nasal, high pitched tone. Rathore was the first to snort, followed by Shree who laughed which turned to cough quickly. Only Chotu and Arjun could not understand the reference, hence looked at them as if they have lost it. Riya cracked a smile.

But nobody was laughing when the fog appeared, followed by the visions. Everyone was stunned to silence at first, then gasps and pain of whimper followed. Arjun clenched his fist so hard that his palms bled, physically pulled himself to turn to others- but none else was able to do so. Their faces were identical masks of horror- ghostly pale, drained of emotions, eyes bulging out at the ghastly imaged they could see in the fog.

One by one, Arjun made them shake off the visions, and they moved away from the fog, outside the castle to their cars, huddled together.

Rathore was the first to snap out, the water bottle in his hand almost crushed to a pulp, “What did you see?” His eyes were on Arjun, and he had to stop himself to take a step back.

“What did you?”

“I saw my deepest fear. What did you see?” He demanded, uncaring of others glancing at each other.

“You know what I saw.” Arjun gritted teeth, and that seemed to satisfy him. Rathore’s head whipped to Liza the next moment.

“I think we all saw different things in the mist. Hallucinated our fears. And the fog . . . “He thought, and Liza beat him into it.

“Some chemical?”

“Might be.” Still shaken up, Shree murmured, “That will make sense than Ghosts and shi . . . “ Chotu elbowed him, and he stopped abruptly.

Riya looked back at the castle, still surrounded by traces of fog. She had this one line going through her head, what ACP Arjun always says.

Something is amiss.