by Preeti Singh
“Yes, that means our killer was known to her, which is why she allowed him inside and had coffee with him/her. Keep an eye on that number, Milan, as am sure he will switch on the mobile again sometime soon. Our UnSub is smart enough to leave no fingerprints and was using gloves. The insurance companies also denied anything suspicious there, so that confirms the family is clean. Now, let’s run a check on our second victim, Mrs. Bhatia; she was a young widow so possibly loneliness took her to social media?” suggested Kinjal.
Milan got onto Facebook and soon found seven Karuna Bhatias in Chandigarh itself, but some were fake profiles as well. After narrowing the search down to MCM DAV College, they found the profile of the deceased Mrs. Bhatia. Milan didn’t need to hack her account, as most of her updates were public.
She was a beautiful woman indeed; but what a ghastly death she was subjected to, they thought. After scanning through her public photographs, Milan came across her old college snaps with some friends on a tour, but not the particular photograph they were looking for; the one the UnSub was tearing clues from. There were a group of six women in this Facebook snap.
“Check the names of the women posing with her, Milan. Leave aside the three who died; as it is, they had no FB accounts”, Kinjal said peeking over Milan’s shoulder. Maybe they were getting somewhere now.
There were six names tagged in the group photo which were Anita, Pinky, Suman, Shweta, Mansi and Karuna. But only three names had active Facebook profiles and they were Suman Misra, Karuna Bhatia and Shweta Sharma.
Taking down the main photograph clue they had, Kinjal identified Anita as Mrs. Choudhary, Karuna as Mrs. Bhatia and Mansi as her own mother. Now with these three no longer alive to help them, it was time to focus on the other three, hopefully alive.
Only Pinky had no Facebook profile. She was the last one standing in the photograph; and probably the toughest one to find, Kinjal had an intuition.
“Milan, open the profiles of Suman Misra and Shweta Sharma; let’s have a look”, Kinjal suggested.
The blurred snap on Facebook showed the women much slimmer and childish but when Milan clicked on the profiles, the ladies were quite matured, aged and dignified. How time changes people’s looks, Amber thought! I hope I never get any grey hair and wrinkles, man!
“KJ, we have their Facebook profiles now, but how do we get their addresses to save them?” Amber was confused.
“I will do something. Both these ladies are quite active on social media. Maybe I should make a fake profile and get data out of them, Ma’am?” Milan asked.
“No, Milan. We will not do anything unethical. There must be some picture or clue, as to where they stay? Scan their profiles; while I call the telecom companies, to see if any mobile number is registered in their names” Kinjal said and made some quick calls.
***
After dinner, they sat together again with their findings. Kinjal had no results as there were multiple Suman Misras registered with the major telecom companies in Chandigarh but without an address; she could not specify which one was their Suman. Same dead end came for Shweta Sharma as well.
“Ma’am, I have something here. One of Shweta Sharma’s holiday photographs has her car number plate. If that number is registered in her name, we can trace her address!” Milan said excitedly.
“Bingo! Milan, well done! Note down the number and do the same if you can for Suman Misra’s profile, but remember no unethical stuff, okay?”Kinjal smiled sweetly.
Sigh! Anything for that dimpled smile! “Yes, Ma’am, will do the best I can”, he replied.
“Now, get going Milan. It’s late for you and tomorrow we begin working on Mrs. Bhatia’s clues. It’s Tuesday tomorrow; the day to meet my ailing father, so we meet tomorrow at noon, after you get me some results on that number plate.” Kinjal said with finality.
“Yes, Ma’am”, he smiled back when she smiled and shut the door. And then he looked at the smiling moon. Milan was sure he was already in love with his Ma’am; so what if she was few years elder to him; love knew no age, right? He argued with the watching moon, as he drove back home.
It was way past midnight and Amber had already snuggled himself on the couch. Kinjal switched on the AC and covered him up with her shawl, but she didn’t know Amber was always alert and smiling that she had begun caring for him. He further covered Maggie who had snuggled with him near his paw. Kinjal called Vikash but he didn’t reply; being late he must have dozed off, she concluded.
The day’s events ran on front of her eyes. Mrs. Choudhary’s family was clean and over with. She just hoped tomorrow her father could give her some clues on Mom’s college friends.
She then held her Mom’s locket warmly and then checked her loaded revolver under her pillow, before shutting her tired eyelids.
In a jiffy, Kinjal fell asleep... totally unaware that a pair of eyes were keenly watching her from the bedroom window.
Beautifully asleep, but being watched shrewdly, very shrewdly by calculative eyes.
CHAPTER 4
Finding Answers from The Past
Paraplegic Rehabilitation Centre
Mohali, Chandigarh
“Dad, you have to help me with anything you can remember about Mom’s friends”, Kinjal gently asked her father. “I have told you about all the clues we have gathered, but we need to know more about Mom’s college gang, so we can save the three women alive, in that photograph, Daddy”.
It was Tuesday, the day Kinjal would stop work and visit Dad. Today, Amber joined her but he was waiting for her in the jeep outside; dogs were not allowed in the hospital, she explained him and he seemed to understand.
Whenever she visited her father, Kinjal ensured she didn’t make him feel helpless and would talk to him endlessly like she used to, when she was a child. They were sitting by the window, when Vikash walked in.
Seeing him, Dad would always get hyper; his hands would shake and lips quivered. His eyes always would be on Vikash but he could never express his feelings. Kinjal hugged her best friend and he held her hand warmly, patting it gently, two taps in quick intervals...just like DIG Uncle did often; maybe that’s why she found comfort and felt safe with Vikash, or maybe because he was taking such good care of her father.
“Vikash, how is Dad doing? How much time more before he begins to walk again? Or even respond a bit?” Kinjal asked with concerned eyes.
“Kinjal, I told you many times before, dear...maybe never. But we never know when miracles happen, so let’s keep the faith intact. I have taken special permission to keep Uncle here for some more time, so you don’t worry...he is under my care”, Vikash reassured her, “How is the case going? Any progress?” he asked, trying to divert her mind.
“Yeah... Going kind of slow, Vikash. That is why I am here to ask Dad for some clues, any lead which he can give me, to move further”, she shared with Vikash, discussing all the clues they had found till now.
Hearing her talks, her father’s hands had begun shaking again, as though he was trying to tell her something. Kinjal saw that he was pointing a finger at the gloves Vikash was wearing, but she still could not understand her father.
“What are you saying, Dad? Gloves or hands? Vikash, what is he saying?” Kinjal asked Vikash, all confused.
“No idea, dear. Maybe he wants you to hold his hand. You guys carry on; I have to rush to see my other patients. We will catch up at night, Kinjal.” Vikash said hurriedly and left.
As suggested by Vikash, Kinjal held her father’s hand gently, caressing it. He was calmer now, but still restless at being unable to speak what was on his mind.
Kinjal then sang Mom’s favourite song for Dad. Whenever she felt low as a child, Mom always hummed this tune for her and it instantly revived her.
“Hush little baby,...don’t say a word...
Papa’s gonna buy you a little mocking bird...
And, if the mocking bird won’t sing...
Papa will get you a little diamond ring”
As soon as
she sang, Dad’s eyes smiled at his daughter. She tucked him in bed and kept humming the song. Within no time, Dad had dozed off and Kinjal crept away slowly, after giving him a peck on his forehead.
She was still humming her Mom’s song when she started her jeep.
“KJ, what are you singing?” Amber asked instantly, shocked.
“It’s a song my mother sang, Amber and it would help me sleep when I was a child. I just sang it to Dad and he’s sleeping peacefully”, Kinjal smiled, remembering her mother’s warmth.
“That’s ok, KJ, but you are singing the same line we found at the crime scenes. ‘Don’t Say A Word’!” Amber pointed out.
“Yes, Amber, I feel there is some connection between all three murders and the UnSub also knows this number”, she said, her smile fading.
“Yes, KJ and I feel we need to find the other women soonest so we can know the mystery behind this song too. It’s an important clue”, Amber said seriously. He didn’t like to see Kinjal upset but he had to push her to unpeel the truth soonest. Finding her mother’s killer would be the only thing to give her peace.
Kinjal drove quietly, thinking deep. The mystery was deepening and daily they stumbled upon something new.
MCM DAV College
Sector 36, Chandigarh
“Sir, it would be in your best interest if you cooperate with us”, Kinjal spoke firmly to the college Principal, who was trying to act difficult.
Next morning, along with Amber, Kinjal and Milan had reached the college to dig into the details about Karuna Bhatia’s murder, in the staff room.
“Look, lady, my lawyer will talk to you. I am a reputed man and do not want to be involved in any police business. My professor was killed and my condolences are with the family; so why are you involving me?” the principal retorted.
“Sir, if you have nothing to hide, why don’t you let us go through Mrs. Bhatia’s lockers?” Kinjal asked curiously.
“Agent Kinjal, I have just taken over my duties about a month back and I do not want the media splashing my college name all over. If you do not leave the premises immediately, I shall be forced to call your senior, lady”, the principal threatened Kinjal menacingly.
Milan was trying to control his anger and Amber began growling slightly, but Kinjal calmly walked over to the Principal and leaned on his desk.
“Sir, I beg you not to mess with me,” she smiled with an icy twinkle in her eyes. “I can stoop to your level of blackmail if I have to; so don’t push me, Sir.” Kinjal said as she moved behind his chair, quietly. “I bet the media, your subordinates, colleagues and most importantly, your wife and grown up kids would not want to know about the affair you are having with your Vice Principal, Sir ?”, she whispered in his ears, raising her one eyebrow.
The Principal froze, stiffened in his chair and suddenly began sweating. Milan smiled and Amber wagged his tail. Kinjal had done her homework well, before meeting this good - for -nothing so called polished man, of society.
“I do not wish to spoil your life, Sir, but I can do so, if pushed further. I have all the proofs needed to destroy your precious image. We just want access to your college campus and complete cooperation from your end and I shall leave you alone. So, now are we on the same platform, Sir?” she asked the Principal looking him straight in the eye.
The Principal nodded meekly, knowing this lady was not lying. He instructed his secretary to help Kinjal and her team in every possible way.
“Fill me in, Milan”, Kinjal said as she wore her gloves and scanned the staff room where Mrs. Bhatia’s body was found. The room had been locked to avoid any interference from any staff members, though the college had been shut down for the students.
Milan was carrying with him all the evidence, the police had found at the crime scene; Mrs. Bhatia’s mobile phone, her purse with all its contents within, and few students’ test papers which were stained with her blood. The similar evidences of the previous murders, left by the UnSub, were all clearly defined in the files as well.
“Ma’am, Mrs. Bhatia’s phone records since last one month had nothing unusual; just the same normal talking to her acquaintances. But yes, once again a new number called her one day before her death i.e. between 11 am to 12 pm. It’s a different number which called Mrs. Choudhary and the UnSub has used a different mobile set this time, as the IMEI number is also different.” Milan sounded disappointed.
“Okay and do the forensic reports on the students’ papers confirm the blood to be the victim’s?” Kinjal asked, thoughtfully, examining the white board where the killer had scribbled the same song.
“Yes, Ma’am the blood is Mrs. Bhatia’s only. Once again, no fingerprints were found on the scene and when the Principal found the body, he was wise enough not to touch anything till the police arrived”, Milan said.
Kinjal was going through Karuna Bhatia’s locker which had nothing important to add value to the case. It contained snaps of her aged parents and few stationery items. She seemed to be a simple, hard working lady trying to balance her life after her husband’s untimely death. There was also no sign of a lover in her life who could have any motive for killing her, especially since she was not a rich widow as well. Why would anyone want to kill her?
Amber had his paws on the white board and said, “KJ, we should match this handwriting by the UnSub, with the ones in her copies.” he offered his suggestions.
“Ma’am, I already double checked the writing on the white board with the students’ papers she was checking. The possibility of any of her students is ruled out. Besides, she was one of their favourite teachers so why would any student want to harm her?” Milan asked.
“That’s the love she had with her students but that affection maybe the reason for her being disliked by other teachers as well. Let’s talk to them. Come on.” Kinjal said motioning both her partners to follow her.
With the staff room shut down for investigations, the rest of the teachers were in the conference room doing their work. Kinjal addressed them there itself.
“Respected Teachers, my mother was a student of this college, years ago”, she began with her eyes slightly moist. When she was sure she had their attention, she continued, “Destiny has got me back here to investigate Mrs. Bhatia’s murder. She was your colleague but she was also my mother’s college friend,” Kinjal paused as the teachers began talking among themselves. Milan was behind her, in uniform, defining authority and Amber was patiently waiting outside, not wanting to scare the teachers with his ‘dog’ image!
“Did Mrs. Bhatia discuss her personal life with anyone?” Kinjal was walking around the conference room, making most of the teachers rather uncomfortable.
“Not much. Karuna was a loner and would stay by herself.” a teacher smirked, Kinjal noticed. Jealousy was obvious among the colleagues.
“Okay...anything else anyone can remember please? Did she mention anyone new in her life...a partner...a boyfriend....a new relative or friend or any such thing to anyone? ”, Kinjal asked around again.
“Yes, Ma’am”, a young teacher stood up and came up to Kinjal. “Ma’am, Karuna Ma’am was my senior and guide. She told me one day before her death that an old college friend’s nephew was going to meet her soon. She sounded very happy, because her own son is abroad and was hardly in touch with her. Maybe it means nothing, but I felt I should tell you what I know. Karuna Ma’am meant a lot to me, Ma’am, please let justice be done”, the young teacher had tears in her eyes.
Kinjal patted the young teacher’s arm and said, “Don’t worry, we will do our best. And thank you so much, you have given us an important clue. Thank you everyone for your time”, Kinjal said to all the disinterested teachers in the staff room and headed towards the college gates, with Milan and Amber following her rapid pace.
“An old college friend’s nephew meeting Karuna Bhatia is an interesting angle, Milan” Kinjal observed while walking briskly “What about Shweta Sharma’s car number plates, Milan? Any progress on that?” she asked.
“Oh! Yes, Ma’am. I forgot to update you. The car is registered under her name and she lives in IT Park, Manimajra. We can visit her today itself”, Milan said hurriedly.
“While working on a homicide, you are not supposed to forget vital information, Inspector Milan. I want no loopholes next time. Am I clear?” Kinjal said sternly, ensuring her eyes said enough, in one glare.
Milan gulped and nodded. He certainly didn’t like being checked in front of Amber, who could not stop chuckling to himself...yeh hai apni Modi sarkar....ache din aa gaye, beta !
Mrs. Karuna Bhatia’s Residence
Sector 33 Chandigarh
Grief stricken after performing the last rites of their late daughter, the Bhatias were not in a very apt condition to talk to Kinjal, yet they made an effort. Karuna Bhatia’s NRI son had also arrived but was standing in a corner, cold and detached. Kinjal spoke to him first but he was rude and not unhappy that his mother had died. It seemed strange to Kinjal and his hatred could be motive enough to kill his mother. She left him sulking there and spoke to the old parents, instead.
“Sir, please help us find the killer of your daughter. I can see her son will not cooperate with so much venom in him. Did she have any friends or visitors or anyone who could harm her? ”, Kinjal gently asked Karuna Bhatia’s father.
The old man sarcastically said, “Her biggest enemy was her own son. After his father died in an accident, he blamed his mother because she survived the tragedy. Then slowly, he developed hatred for Karuna for sending him abroad for further studies. We tried our best to make him understand, but Karuna had reached a stage where she gave up. But yes, she had few friends; she would go out with sometimes. Anita and Shweta were the names, I think. You can also see her room upstairs. Maybe you can find some answers there. We have just not been able to enter it since....” he broke down.