The Siya Rajput Crime Thrillers Books 1-3 (Where Are They Now / Finding Her / The Bones Are Calling)

by UD Yasha

  It took him a heartbeat to understand what I was saying but he unbuckled his belt and put it in my hand by the time we reached Radha.

  Her body was soaking wet with blood. I looked into her eyes. They reminded me so much of maa. Radha does not deserve this. She should not have been here. She cannot die. She has so much to live for. What was going to happen to their lovely married life and the beautiful children they would have?

  I strapped the belt as tightly as I could near her shoulder, trying to create a makeshift tourniquet.

  ‘Pull hard,’ I said to Rahul, giving him one end.

  In case of a gunshot injury, the key was to reduce the blood supply to the wound. The outer part of her right arm was hit. It did not have any critical organ or a major artery. But any gunshot victim is always at the risk of bleeding out. As far as I could tell, the bullet had grazed her skin and not ruptured any large arteries. However, the wound was large enough on its own to result in a massive blood loss.

  ‘I’ll get the car,’ Rahul said and bolted away.

  ‘It’s going to be alright,’ I said to Radha, tightening the belt. ‘Just stay with me. You’re going to be fine. Keep your eyes open.’

  Our car screeched to a stop next to us. Rahul and I picked Radha up and put her on the back seat. Rahul got behind the wheel while I scooted in the back and put Radha’s head on my lap. I needed to keep her awake.

  ‘Give me your handkerchief,’ I said to Rahul. ‘Rathod also keeps a napkin in the glovebox. Give me that as well.’

  Rahul handed both things to me. I pressed the napkin hard against the gunshot wound. There are only a few ways to stop excessive bleeding and they all involve applying pressure to the wound. I used both hands to press Radha’s shoulder to reduce the flow of blood.

  I closed my eyes as Radha screamed. Applying pressure to the wound would have sent pain pulsating through her body. I held my hands firm to prevent them from shaking. Seeing Radha wriggle in pain made me think of the worst that could happen.

  ‘I know this is hurting but it’s necessary. I need to keep pressing it,’ I said, knowing how badly it would be hurting.

  ‘The nearest hospital is ten minutes away in Lonavala,’ Rahul said. His voice was shaking now.

  ‘You need to call the hospital and tell them we’re coming,’ I said.

  Rahul stepped his foot on the accelerator as he pulled out his phone and made the call. The ringing across the line echoed in the car cabin. I hoped the hospital was well equipped to handle a gunshot wound.

  We whizzed forward. The call was answered in six seconds, just as we hit the highway. Rahul explained the situation to the lady who answered the call. She seemed to be dazed at first. I had lost track of time but I knew it was late in the night. Luckily, two trauma surgeons and an anesthetist were on call among other doctors. The hospital was just off the Pune-Mumbai highway, so I guessed that kept the doctors alert round the clock, especially at night when freight traffic was heavy on the highway.

  I patted Radha’s face, trying desperately to keep her awake. The pressure I was applying was not helping in that. Her body was trying to find a way to cope with the pain. The best way to deal with it was for the mind to become unconscious. The pain was so intense that she had even stopped screaming and now just a low soft moan escaped her mouth.

  ‘We’ll be there in two minutes,’ I said looking into Radha’s bloodshot eyes, hoping to get some reaction. But I doubt she even heard me because of the pain that was ripping her apart second by second.

  Rahul’s handkerchief and Rathod’s napkin were soaked in blood. It was not a great sign as it meant that Radha was still bleeding profusely. I pushed harder into her shoulder. Rahul bustled past heavy trucks and the odd car. I could see the large red cross of the hospital about a kilometre away. We were pushed to the left because of the car’s kinetic energy as Rahul swerved right sharply at a crossroad. We sped rapidly towards the hospital. Its sign disappeared behind other buildings as we got closer.

  Radha heaved loudly, drawing my attention towards her. She moved violently on my lap. Then her breaths became short and shallow. The moans escaping her mouth got softer.

  ‘Radha, please stay with me. You can't close your eyes. We’re almost there,’ I said and patted her cheek with one hand while continuing to apply pressure to the gunshot wound with the other.

  The ambulances outside Grace Hospital in Lonavala glinted red and blue on the drops of rain pebbled on our windshield. The hospital staff had the make and number of our car so they rushed towards us as soon as we entered the hospital premises.

  Five paramedics pulled Radha out in one swift motion and placed her on a stretcher. A doctor put an oxygen mask on her mouth. Her stretcher was wheeled inside the hospital. Rahul veered the car into an almost empty parking lot, a rare occurrence at Indian hospitals. We stepped out and made a dash for the Casualty department.

  Chapter Sixty

  A female security guard ran behind us as we entered Casualty. I did not know why she was running at first but I found out soon. She said, ‘The doctors have taken her to the operation theatre directly.’

  ‘Do you know which one?’ Rahul said.

  The guard shook her head. ‘I just overheard them talking.’

  We reached the hospital’s reception and caught a young attendant with a buzz cut in the middle of a yawn. He quickly put a hand to his mouth. The metal tag on the breast pocket of his shirt told us his name was Rishi.

  ‘They just brought in my fiancé. She was shot. Her name is Radha Rajput. The guard outside said she was taken in for an operation.’

  Rishi got up. ‘Yes, I know. Can I please see some identification?’

  Rahul stepped forward with a clenched fist. I put a hand on his shoulder and said, ‘I’m her sister, Siya Rajput.’ I rummaged in my tote bag and pulled out my driving license.

  Rishi examined it and said, ‘Sorry for that. But we need to confirm the identity of patients’ emergency contact in a case like this. We have to be extra careful.’ He peeled out a form and said, ‘Please fill this up.’

  Even I lost it at that moment. Going through such formalities was the last thing I wanted to do when Radha was inside. I glared at Rishi and said, ‘I’m a lawyer. I know what’s supposed to be done. We’ll fill this up but please get us a doctor whom we can speak with.’

  ‘I’m on it,’ Rishi said and rolled his chair at the back end of his booth.

  I scribbled out the form. Rishi emerged a minute later and said, ‘Please go to the third floor. There’s a doctor’s booth over there. They will tell you everything you need to know.’

  I ran upstairs and found the booth Rishi was referring to. There was no other patient but a nurse walked up to us. She took us to a small waiting area. We could see the corridor leading up to the operation theatres just beyond it. A glass wall with blinds separated the two.

  ‘The victim was taken into the operation theatre,’ the nurse said. ‘It’s probably going to take a while. Please stay seated here,’ the nurse said and turned away.

  ‘Can we speak to someone who knows what’s happening?’ Rahul said.

  ‘I’m afraid no one is available. The two on-call doctors are inside the operation theatre. We’ve called two more to attend to other potential incoming patients. For now, you’ll just have to wait. We’ll let you know the moment we can.’

  Rahul and I saw the nurse return to her booth. We sat still next to each other and waited. Rahul buried his face in his palms and broke down. I fought the tears from coming out. Radha would have wanted me to be strong for Rahul. I rubbed his back as he leaned forward, keeping his elbows on his knees.

  ‘I’m afraid I won’t ever see her again, Siya,’ Rahul said.

  I stayed silent. Nothing I would say was going to make him feel any better. I was not in the state myself to make him feel better. But I just wanted to be there for Rahul and for that, I had to ensure I held my own.

  I got up and filled a glass of water for him from the wate
r cooler. He had stopped crying when I had returned. But his eyes were puffy. I had never seen Rahul this way. He wiped his face with his shirt’s sleeve.

  I pulled my phone out and texted Rathod.

  I killed Mangesh. Radha was shot. She’s at Grace Hospital in Lonavala.

  We sat still without saying much. The minutes ticked by. There was no sign of the operation theatre opening. There was no text from Rathod either. What the hell was happening?

  I got up and walked in the waiting area, trying to distract myself. Just then, the doors of the operation theatre opened. A male doctor, who was probably in his mid-forties, pushed past the glass door and walked out.

  ‘Are you here for Radha Rajput?’ he said, his voice deep.

  Rahul joined me at my right elbow. ‘Yes, please go on.’

  ‘The operation was successful. She’s out of danger,’ he said.

  A smile broke on my face. Rahul said something that I could not make out. The next instant, he was hugging both me and the doctor together.

  The doctor said, ‘We could stop the bleeding in less than five minutes from the time we started operating on her. The bullet did not hit any vital part of the body but she had gone into shock by the time she got here. There was severe trauma on her right arm and some nerves around the area of impact were damaged. That’s why we took time. But now it's under control. You can see her in sometime.’

  ‘So, she’ll be okay?’ Rahul said.

  The doctor said, ‘She’s going to be fine. She needs some physiotherapy to regain strength in her right arm but apart from that she will be fit. She can even go home in a few days if her vitals stay normal.’

  The next few seconds were a complete blur. I did not quite understand what the doctor said because a flurry of happiness exploded inside me. I pictured Radha, smiling the way she always does—the happiness reaching her eyes, and lighting up not just her entire face but also the hearts of everyone around her. Just the thought of it warmed my heart. At that moment, I forgot about everything else.

  I did not realize that my phone was buzzing in my pocket until Rahul pointed it out. It was Rathod calling me. I had almost forgotten about them while worrying about Radha.

  ‘Siya, we have secured the warehouse,’ Rathod said, his voice bearing relief and triumph. ‘We have three of their men in our custody. The children are safe with us. Rucha is okay. How’s Radha?’

  I told him about the success of the operation.

  ‘We’re coming to Grace Hospital as well. The children need to undergo checkups and four members of my team have sustained injuries,’ Rathod said and paused. ‘We did it, Siya. We got them. We’ve also retrieved a lot of information from the warehouse. I reckon it will tell us what was happening in the Dark Web Chatroom. We’ll see you in a few minutes,’ he said and hung up.

  I closed my eyes, realizing that we had gotten past it all. The smile curling my lips got bigger. Rahul knew right away that the children had been recovered.

  ‘Rathod’s men have the children,’ I said to Rahul.

  The grin on my face refused to go away. It was all over now. Radha was out of danger. She would be back with us soon. We were going to be a happy family once again. As the thoughts swirled in my head, there was a tap on my shoulder. I turned around.

  It was Rahul.

  ‘Hey, the doctor is calling us inside,’ he said with a grin on his face. ‘He’s saying we can see Radha now.’

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Two weeks later

  The doctors were pleased with Radha’s recovery and she returned home after six days. Laughter and happiness returned to the Rajput household. Radha, being the way she is, refused to wallow in self-pity. Dr. Pande told me that the events of the past few days had not hampered maa’s recovery.

  We celebrated Radha’s return by ordering from Chef Chu's, our favourite Chinese restaurant. When I called to place the order, the person across the line recognized my voice and instantly guessed our order—chicken lollipops, burnt garlic chicken noodles and American chopsuey. Chef Chu, who knew us far too well because we ordered a lot from his restaurant, sent complimentary dumplings for all of us as he knew we were celebrating.

  We gradually got to know the scope of the entire operation over the coming weeks. Even now, my hands start shivering when I think about what was happening in the warehouse and in that Dark Web Chatroom.

  Rathod and his team recovered several hundred gigabytes of data from the warehouse. The creators of the Dark Web chat room called it ‘The Mothers’ Club’ while talking about it amongst themselves. Its real name was an alpha numeric sequence. At first, it was hard to find out who was hosting the chatroom as it was buried under many layers of anonymity.

  Jay Parikh worked out of my garage office to crack the rest of the data that Sitaram Mule had taken. He was going to need longer to sift through everything Rathod’s team had found. Even then, despite knowing roughly twenty percent of what was out there, he was able to find out the people who ran The Mothers’ Club.

  The name ‘Cherry Investments’ came up several times in the data we found at the warehouse and the information hacked by Mule. It had all the characteristics of a shell company. It had no active business, it did not have any personnel and it also did not have any assets. Its cash reserves were extremely low. We guessed that the company was primarily used to collect money given to The Mothers’ Club by the highest bidder for the weekly episode.

  ‘We will not be able to trace this money,’ Jay Parikh said. ‘After leaving Cherry Investments’ wallet, it would have gone to at least fifteen different accounts and cryptocurrency wallets.’

  ‘How will we know who’s behind this though?’ I said.

  ‘Cryptocurrency makes it impossible. But just like in the Dark Web, a person needs to physically push services and goods, in cryptocurrency, money needs to be transferred to a compatible wallet. Think of it as converting Indian Rupees into American Dollars. Hypothetically, if the dollar could not be traced, we could still trace the original rupee when it was converted into dollars. The Mothers’ Club accepted payments only in Bitcoin. But if Chief Minister Sarvate was involved, there’s a high chance he would have converted that money into Indian rupees once again—especially if he used it for the funding of his political campaign.’

  ‘He wouldn’t have used Indian banks for that,’ I said.

  ‘Exactly. He would’ve used banks in Panama, the Bahamas, Switzerland…the list goes on.’

  ‘But it would have had to come back to India at some point if he was using it to fund his campaign.’

  ‘That’s where I was going,’ Jay said. ‘We can trace that but it’s scary difficult and it’ll take time. We’ll probably not even get the required warrants. I’ll have to figure out another way to crack this in that case.’

  Jay was right. In India, information regarding the funding of political parties could not be easily acquired. There was a huge debate on whether it should be included under the Right To Information Act. But I knew courts made exceptions if the situation was dire and if we could provide reasonable doubt that the funding money was acquired through illegal means.

  ‘We could push for getting warrants,’ I said. ‘We can use testimonies of the people we caught, and not to forget the mothers who were involved.’

  The days kept rolling by. I visited Sumeira Gill and Malini Sinha in police custody more than ten times to know exactly what had happened. They were reluctant to talk at first but then I struck a deal with both of them that allowed them to see their daughters once. It bothered me immensely to make that deal but I knew it was necessary to stop the widespread cancer that The Mothers’ Club had caused.

  They had been harming their kids from the time they were born. They had a burning desire to get attention, and they loved it when people told them how much they cared for their kids. Somewhere along the way, while surfing the Internet, they stumbled upon the chatroom in the Dark Web. The chatroom discussed different innovative ways in which mothers suffe
ring from Munchausen syndrome by proxy could get away with harming their own child.

  Soon, the promoters of the chatroom figured out a way for all these mothers who harm their children to get the most attention by providing them with a platform to discuss their yearnings openly. The mothers were encouraged to upload videos of the abusive methods that they used to harm their children. Not just that, but the promoters also realized that some people, who were perverted enough, were willing to pay to watch the videos. That opened up a huge income generation avenue.

  The chatroom then found a big sponsor in Sanjay Sarvate. Sarvate was only interested in making money. It was his idea to auction off the method that would be featured in the weekly episodes.

  To the outside world, everything seemed normal in the lives of Malini and Sumeira. Caring mothers. Poor mothers. They do so much. Oh, their children are going through a lot. Everything was going as per plan for Malini and Sumeira. The mothers were being loved. But then everything changed when Natasha appeared for an interview at Ad Astra.

  Sumeira told me that it all began with Natasha’s interview at Ad Astra International School. After speaking to Natasha, Shaunak Manohar suspected that something was wrong between the mother and her daughter. More than that, Natasha had spent some time alone with Manohar during her application interview. She was about to tell Manohar something when she stopped right after seeing her mother. Natasha had started shaking and her face had gone white when Sumeira stepped into the interview room. She changed the topic after Sumeira entered the room. This incident along with Manohar’s initial observation had made Manohar suspicious.

  Sumeira came to know later that Manohar had followed them back home that day to see if everything was okay. Manohar saw Sumeira pull out petrol from the car, fill it in a bottle and then give it to her daughter. Manohar was confused at first and then worried. Over the next few days, he observed the Gills. Sumeira’s story checked out as we knew from Manohar’s cell phone data that he was spying on them. Sumeira believed that Manohar was making sure Natasha was okay as she was his own daughter’s age. Sumeira told me she made Natasha have petrol when the medicines from The Mothers’ Club were late to arrive.