"You are smiling." Shukla said the moment I walked into station. I raise an eyebrow and return the 'Jai Hind' by others. Shukla follows me wordlessly. "Did you sleep well?" He asks seriously.
"Yes mother." I reply lazily. Shukla shrugs without getting annoyed. It was close to ten in the morning and it was a rarity for me to go in so late. Even without enough sleep, I always reached the station by eight in morning.
"What do we have?" I ask. Keith pokes in his head and looks at us. I wave my fingers at him motioning him to come in.
"You two aren't fighting right?" He asks. Shukla looks confused and I simply shake my head. "Good. I don't like it when mom and dad fight." There is a glint of mischief in his eyes. Shukla looks horrified and I chuckle at the two. Keith, being youngest of the three of us is a bit cheeky.
Shukla scowls at the younger man. Keith only smiled brilliantly at him.
"I may have a lead." Keith said pushing laptop towards us. "Look." He played a video.
"What am I looking for?" I ask him.
Shukla and Keith stand beside me and we start watching the video. "It'll come to you." Keith says.
I realize that the video is that of the bar where Helen worked. I remember Keith telling me he will get information on the guy who visited Helen months ago. In less than twenty four hours, he had delivered. Or rather his men had delivered.
After three minutes into video, I see a man walking up the stairs. The man is wearing a hoodie which makes it impossible to figure out his facial features. The only thing we can get out of this – it's a man who knows what he was doing, clearly. Keith forwards the video and we the man descending the stair approximately an hour later.
"Are there no other cameras in the hotel?" Shukla asks.
Keith shakes his head. "Just the one in lobby and another is this. It isn't much but this is all we've got. I checked with Helen's friend and she thinks it's probably the same guy." He summarizes.
"He is covering himself good. Is that forensic countermeasure?" Shukla asks.
Keith shrugs. "It's probably common sense. He would have assumed there were cameras inside."
I replay the video couple of times. There was something which stuck me the first time I watched it. "It's the first time he is coming here and he knows exactly where the staircase is. See this," I rewind to the point of my interest, "He walks into the hotel, cross the foyer, the bar area and makes it straight to the staircase. When I went there for the first time, I had to ask."
"He is hiding his face intentionally then." Shukla looks thoughtful.
"Keith, can your friends take his physical features and check against people who might have visited the hotel before this incident?" Shukla tapped the screen.
"You do realize we are no FBI or CSI, right?" Keith's words were laced with sarcasm. Shukla only looked at him blankly. "I'll see if they can come up with something like that. That would be military grade software in our country." Keith types on his Blackberry as he speaks shooting off an email to his friend.
"How much do we know about Helen before she met Vimal?" I believe that Helen's role in Vimal's life is much complicated than it seemed to us right now.
"Deshmukh is leading that investigation and we don't have anything concrete yet. I will be working along with him." Shukla filled me in.
"We may have a problem. I want you two to be ready if at all it becomes a reality." I motion Keith to close the door. I have the seventeen files on my desk and my fingers are idly turning pages in the first file.
"What is it sir?" Keith asks.
"This killing may go as far back as seventies. If Khushi comes up with substantial evidence which can tie these cases together…"
"Then we are all f**ked." Keith finished it for me. I nod. "What's your best guess sir?"
"The cases are too overwhelmingly similar. Some of the victims come from prestigious political families. If we start raking old cases…we need enough ammunition to hold our fort." I am uncomfortable about the whole thing. I don't like politics to be mixed with investigation or influence. But the victims are nothing less than big sharks. I cannot afford to go public. I cannot include everyone in my station because I fear the leak to higher ups, media and their own bosses. Keith said it right. We are f**ked.
I tune out whatever Shukla and Keith are discussing. My eyes are stuck on the photograph in front of me. It's Suman. I cannot accept out loud how crime scenes, tableaus relax me. The fascination of putting pieces of puzzle came to me since I was a child. Becoming a cop was natural selection. But something about this case doesn't feel right. There are too many variables, too many parameters and way too many players.
When so many things are involved, I am almost certain everyone in town including some police officers knows it except for me. It won't be the first time. It won't be the lost either.
"When is Khushi giving us her rest of the findings?" Shukla's voice brings me back to focus.
"She has Vimal Sharma and Suman's files. She should be giving us some input in few hours." I reply. I don't know why Shukla wants to know this.
"After this will you pass on these files to her?" He taps on the top file.
"There are more Shukla. There are at least half a dozen more files coming in by lunch and another half a dozen by tea. That's the update I have received till now." This is way past my paycheck but I latch on to rationality.
"That's nearly thirty cases in three decades. Statistically it isn't really all that much." Keith calculated. He knows that a gangbanger would probably achieve that target in a month. A budding underworld don would finish of three dozen people in a bad shootout over the weekend. The city is filled with vermin of that variety. But they were all easy to find. They didn't necessarily hide behind ancient symbols and mystery. If I walked up to the man and asked him if he killed those people, he would gladly accept. No, this killer was no ordinary man. Killing wasn't a stepping stone for a greater goal. Killing was the goal. Killing the person in a certain way was a necessity.
"It's in the quality not the quantity." Shukla replies tonelessly. I agree with him but I don't voice it out loud. It isn't respectful, I believe.
"It's a bit surprising that no one has put this together already. I mean you guys and the DCP have been around for years, yeah? DCP would have seen these cases on his desk given the connections the victims would definitely have. And he hasn't seen the weirdness repeat year after year? That's a hard one." Keith scoffs.
I don't say aloud but I agree with Keith. Something is amiss here. I haven't been taking calls from DCP since I went to the crime scene. Is this what he has been trying to warn me? DCP has been smart enough not to call me on my landline. He knows every phone call that comes through my landline is recorded. After significant increase in death threats against me last year I was advised to record all the calls that come to my phone. It was silly at best. Everyone uses cellphone these days. And the person who really wants to kill me won't give me an advance notice. Being in harm way is a part of my job description.
"I'll talk to DCP. I have been avoiding his calls till now. I think it's time to return his calls." I dismiss the two inspectors. They salute and walk out of the cabin.
I have a bad feeling about the case. I have never slept like I did last night during a case or in last two and half decades. I am tempted to get a toxicology report for my blood. But there will be too many questions. I think Khushi drugged me last night. Any other explanation falls short of expected logical conclusion. Momentarily I am swayed to get the name of drug from her and buy it in bulk. The feeling passes faster than the relish that course through my system.
I place a call to my boss, the DCP.
"Good morning sir." I start
politely. I know the call is going to hell right after this polite greeting. But
I am surprised when I hear a sigh.
"Come home for lunch." DCP's voice sounds aged. "Let's talk then."
"Yes sir." I realize my boss has already hung up.
I was wrong. This case isn't going to get bad. It's already gone worse.
*****
Lunch is quiet. DCP prattle unimportant things to entertain his wife who is listening to his quests in awe. I concentrate on food though I have no appetite. I have forgotten what a goodnights sleep can do to a person. I have no complaints but this is borderline boredom. I understand DCP wanted to exercise caution to tell me whatever that he was planning to. But I am thinking coming to his house for lunch may not be the best idea. Then again, what do I know about the shitty politics he has to deal with? No one respected us anymore. Media didn't help. Sometimes my own colleagues didn't help. Reckless remarks about public made way to media and their heroism ignored. Sometimes I understand why police personnel have become so apathetic in regards to public. No one likes them - neither the government nor the public. I wonder what Malvika would diagnose when I keep calling police as 'they' and not 'we'.
I am part of the system. I never felt I belong with other police officers. I only belonged with them when I was at a crime scene.
"Would you like some dessert?" I snap out of my inner monologue and look at DCP's wife. A kind woman sheltered from madness of daily life.
"Thank you," I say with a nod. My voice is softer than usual and I check myself not to mumble.
"We will take it in garden," DCP stands up and motions me to follow him. I follow him wordlessly.
"You want me to stop investigating old cases." I don't find the need to set a premise and bring the topic to discussion. I have known him long enough to realize every game he is capable of playing.
"It's much complex than that." He looks tired. I don't say anything further and wait for him to continue. His wife places two bowls of homemade ice-cream. His fingers shake as he lifts the spoon to his mouth. I am annoyed with the overt dramatization of suspense he is trying to build.
"When I first encountered a case falling under same signature as what you are currently working on, I was forced to choose sides." Honor and honesty died that moment. I motion him to go on and maintain a passive expression. "If you think victim's family is powerful to push for faster justice, the powers denying the same was greater. In some cases victim's family was coerced to not to push the case further. Your assumption is right; the cases are connected. To whom it leads to – no one knows. But there are powerful people backing them. I don't know who they are either."
"Are you asking me to drop my investigation?" I want him to say it. I want to him to stand up and give me my orders. I see his view point. I have been on the receiving end of it several times. Sometimes I have given up and sometimes I have fought. I am not invincible. I am a human, after all. Not to mention a f**king hypocrite.
"I am asking you to channelize your investigation to find out who killed Vimal Sharma and his mistress." There. That's the order. Loosely translated to – Don't poke your nose into the past. Stick to present. Stick to what is going on now. The answers are in the past. The present is only an execution of a plan laid out much before we all were dragged into this. Plan made by powerful people.
"I will sir. I will not reopen old cases." I concede. I am politically correct. DCP isn't a moron. He is my boss after all. He knows I will investigate them unofficially. But I will not be getting any help from the department. I will have to talk to my inspectors again. But before all this, I have to talk to Khushi first.
"Thank you ACP Raizada." The meeting was over.
I place the half eaten ice cream cup on the table and salute my boss. I walk without any further dilemma. Sweet taste of vanilla sticks to my lips.
Certain things are clear. There will be people who will be opposing this investigation. DCP may be on the other side of the fence when heat starts permeating the border. I wonder on which side my officers will be.
Reader commendation: Kishmish, I am always welcomed by a smiley in your comment. I kept wondering why you placed a smiley in an especially heartbreaking chapter but later when you edited your comment, I realized that that's your signature of reserving. Unlike a single word response or a generic statement over and over again, it's never too tiring to see a smiley face even after writing a gruesome update. Many thanks for your comments all this while. I know you are a bigger fan of light heart fiction as compared to this but am super glad that you are sticking by my writing. So thanks and keep reading!| Topics | Author | Replies | Views | Last Post Reply |
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