by Preeti Singh
Kinjal and Milan wore their gloves to search the room thoroughly. It was a simple room, with no extra frills added to it. She seemed a simple, spiritual woman as per her parents and the simple living lifestyle she had.
“No possibility of any robbery to kill her, Ma’am, as her mobile and purse were left untouched too. Seems a personal agenda again for the UnSub, especially since the MO has been the same as in your mother’s and also in Anita Choudhary’s case”, Milan concluded as he went through some of Karuna Bhatia’s drawers. “Ma’am, have a look here; it’s the same college snap which was found in your mother’s cupboard!” Milan said excitedly as Kinjal joined him.
It was the same indeed; and now it seemed all the six ladies and the UnSub also had the same snap with them. The killer had cut out Karuna Bhatia’s snap and had left it next to her body, as per the evidences collected. Amber was right, the killer was following a pattern, killing each lady, as they were standing in the snap.
Each second was precious and finding the surviving women was vital, as now the UnSub was edging closer to killing each of them, Kinjal realised.
“The coroner’s report had said Karuna Bhatia never used nail polish but the UnSub had applied it on her finger nails and removed it hurriedly. No nail polishes on her dressing table confirm the same; just a few other cosmetics are there.” Kinjal said “Milan, just go through her laptop, folders, and emails...every tiny detail you can. We should get something from there”, she instructed while taking out her gloves to have a word with the estranged son.
“Look, Mr. NRI...I don’t wish to know the name of a useless son like yourself, but if I find anything that links you to your mother’s death, I shall finish you, trust me!” Kinjal was fuming and she made it a point he noticed it well. “Kids like you are a shame to their families. Your parents educate you and send you abroad to have a good life and you dump them to fend for themselves? You people are pathetic!” she stared at him right in the eye, leaving him dumbfounded. Amber growled at him one last time before following Kinjal and Milan to the jeep.
Kinjal left the premises, knowing she over reacted and this was not protocol, but she just could not control herself at this idiotic son’s reaction towards his mother’s murder.
As she zoomed out of their lane, Kinjal instructed Milan, “Get me each detail about the son’s phone records, Facebook, email details...everything Milan. He is our prime suspect; so let’s scan him first! I don’t understand how children can abandon their parents, who need them in their old age!” she was angry and both Amber and Milan could sense it too; hence they remained quiet.
As requested, Milan dropped off enroute to collect the information he had been assigned and Kinjal drove home with Amber. They both were silent, till Amber could not stop himself.
“KJ, you are not to get emotional on duty, you know that, don’t you?” he reminded her gently.
“Don’t tell me my duty, Agent Amber. I know what I am doing. Such ungrateful kids should be murdered first, not their noble mothers!” she retorted.
Amber sighed and remained quiet. He kind of understood her pain of losing her mother and slowly her mother’s friends. Amber didn’t say a word and waited for her mood to be fine. After all, he was in love with her and love meant to understand, he sighed.
Joshis’ Villa
Sector 12 Panchkula
On entering her home, Kinjal just broke down. An array of uncontrollable tears poured out; why ...how... were questions she herself didn’t know. But Amber understood. It certainly was not easy for her to keep her emotions for her deceased mother in control and solve the case with complete professionalism. Each case, each clue was a reminder to her, how her mother too was tortured and killed in the same manner. Unknowingly, it kept coming back to her. She was human, after all, thought Amber as he switched on the AC for her, making her comfortable.
An hour later when Milan arrived with all information, Kinjal was more composed and back to her normal self. But today, Milan was not in a chirpy mood; Kinjal’s behaviour towards him at the college gate was not what he expected and the flip side of him was rarely shown to anyone.
Today, he didn’t get coffee for her; she didn’t deserve it today, he felt. But as always, Amber noticed Milan’s tight lipped expression and felt something amiss.
But soon all three of them set aside their fears, apprehensions and stresses of the day and began working as a team.
“Ma’am, I ran a check on Karuna Bhatia’s emails and Facebook account; there is nothing I could find to raise alarm. I also checked her son’s details. Apart from communicating with his friends how much he dislikes his mother, we have no lead. He has no motive of property either, as he alone is the legal heir to all her assets after her death. Moreover, the son has no link or reason to kill the other two victims, using the same MO. Also, it seems the UnSub got the coffee with him to the college, they had it together and he took the coffee cups with him, because no cups were found at the crime scene.” Milan concluded, grimly.
“I agree, Milan. Moreover, the NRI has no connection with any of the three surviving women, so he is ruled out as our UnSub, I guess. We should not waste time probing the families of the victims, but try to locate the three surviving women, who maybe the UnSub’s next target. That will be all for today, guys. It’s been a long day. Please go and rest, Milan. We have Shweta Sharma’s address via her car number plate, right? So, let’s meet her tomorrow. Goodnight, Milan” Kinjal said quietly.
Milan replied a subtle goodnight and left as well. Amber did not fail to notice a shadow on his face, as Kinjal turned towards her bedroom.
Milan left, zooming home, but today he didn’t feel like looking at the moon as well. He was fuming within and all his expectations from Kinjal seemed to be falling apart. Throwing away his jacket, he quickly opened up his laptop and opened up her folder.
Milan would often click her snaps on the quiet, without her knowledge. He had clicked with his mobile countless photographs of Kinjal....while she relaxed...while she was on duty...from every angle. She belonged to him and was a feast for his eyes, alone. And she was rude to him today?
Unacceptable !
He suddenly realised he had forgotten his mobile at her house. The mobile which captured all her precious snaps should not be left around. Too dangerous. He embarked his bike again and zoomed back to Kinjal’s house.
But he found the mobile in his pant pocket when his mother called. Yet, he didn’t return home; the moon and he together, watched Kinjal’s window.
Meanwhile, tired after a long day, Kinjal stepped into her shower. She was upset and feeling awful for snapping at Amber and Milan, both. She would apologize to them tomorrow she decided, as she soaped herself watching her lean body in the mirror.
At once, Kinjal froze. In the mirror, she could see the reflection of the small bathroom window. In the windowpane, a pair of eyes was keenly watching her...in that vulnerable condition.
Her body turned cold in spite of the hot weather. Pretending she had not noticed the dirty eyes seeing her, she quickly wore her bathing robe and stepped out of the bathroom, with the soap still on her bodice.
Quietly, Kinjal picked up her loaded revolver from under her pillow and stealthily stepped out from the side door, her body still dripping. Amber heard her too and followed gently. Pointing her fingers towards Amber, she signalled him to go towards the front door, while she took the back door. Amber didn’t understand why she was saying so, but he understood some trouble was brewing. He ran on his legs, speedily but quietly.
When Kinjal arrived at her bathroom window, there was no one there. All she could see was a bike zooming by and a red Maruti car driving by, slowly. She was panting and looked around in the dark. Some labourers were cooking their dinner in the street nearby; where a building was being constructed.
Kinjal came back inside, shivering at the thought that she was being watched while she bathed. Since when...since how many days and why...by whom...such thoughts just sent shudders do
wn her spine. Maybe it was one of the cheap labourers who watched her...maybe not. Amber joined her and sat close to her, panting, himself. He cuddled next to her, offering her some warmth and security.
That night, Kinjal spoke for long to Vikash, crying her fears out, sharing each detail about the day’s events, as well as the peeping tom at the window; till he consoled her to sleep with his soothing voice.
Kinjal slept a wee bit scared that night, totally unaware that someone on a bike had stopped for a while, watched her from her bedroom window, smiled and zoomed off speedily.
CHAPTER 5
Diverting the strategy
I.T. Park Chandigarh
7 am
“The MO is the same, Milan, and I think, now our UnSub is getting bolder; the fact that he’s murdered in broad daylight, in a park”, Kinjal remarked as she examined the body from all possible angles.
Thirty minutes ago, Kinjal was awoken by persistent calls by Milan to reach the I.T. Park soonest, as Shweta Sharma, the lady they had to visit that day, was found murdered. Though they had her address from the car number plate found on Facebook, fate had made them meet her sooner.
Slipping in her tracks hurriedly, Kinjal sped her jeep with Amber almost stumbling onto the back seat. Keeping her mixed emotions of anger, frustration and disappointment under control, she arrived at the crime scene, swarming with police men, trying to keep away the curious public.
Mrs. Shweta Sharma was found dead behind a bench in the park, where people would exercise or jog, daily morning. She was wearing a suit and as expected, her throat was strangled with her own dupatta. The clues left were the same as in all the three previous cases, but this time there was no pizza, maybe because it was early morning and the UnSub may not have been very hungry. Shweta Sharma’s nail polish was crudely removed and the used cotton swab was lying by her body. Her wrists were slit and the blood had been soaked by the soft, wet mud around her body. On the wet mud itself, the song line ‘Don’t Say a Word’ was neatly written by a stick, maybe.
Kinjal was very disturbed. The UnSub seemed to be moving faster than them and was always one step ahead. While the forensics team was collecting all evidences they could, Amber began digging next to the body. He had smelt something familiar, it seemed.
“What’s it, Amber? Let me see”, offered Kinjal, kneeling down and helping Amber remove the mud with her hands.
Deliberately buried in the mud, was the piece of the snap cut, from the main photograph which all the deceased ladies had with them. Mrs. Shweta Sharma was standing next in line and thus killed. In the hole dug, there was a paper cup too, with coffee residue in it. Kinjal grabbed the cup for a DNA check; with a frail hope that maybe they could trace the UnSub with this piece of evidence.
“Ma’am, the victim stayed in Manimajra and daily came to the park for her morning walks. She is survived by her husband and two daughters; both married in different cities. The husband will be arriving anytime and the daughters have been notified. Should I fix up a time to meet them?” Milan asked, gathering all the details as soon as he could.
“No, Milan. Now we won’t waste time with family members. The UnSub is not one of them, I am convinced of that. He/she is someone known to all the victims so far and the surviving two ladies. We now have to focus our energies in finding them. What about her mobile? Did any call come before she was killed?” Kinjal asked though she already knew the answer.
“Yes, Ma’am, I checked that the first thing itself. An unknown, unsaved contact called her about 30 minutes before her death. By noon, I shall get the call records and we can trace it along with the DNA results from the coffee cup”, Milan said.
“Any witnesses? This is a public park; someone must have seen Shweta Sharma talking to someone?” Kinjal enquired.
“Ma’am, she was found on a bench behind a tree, if you notice. But there is a building next to it and maybe someone saw her from there. My team is talking to people and in a while, I hope to have some results.” Milan replied.
“Good, Milan. Please send the body for an autopsy and then hand it over to the relatives. You gather the rest of the information and meet me at the DIG’s office as soon as you can. We need to change OUR modus operandi now,” Kinjal said decisively as she pocketed her gloves and signalled Amber to follow her to the jeep.
She was in deep thought as she drove quietly to the DIG’s office. The UnSub was playing a subtle game with her and this fact definitely disturbed her. It was time now to discuss matters with DIG uncle, seek his guidance on how to proceed and focus on saving the other two women.
DIG’s Office
Police HQ
Sector 9 D, Chandigarh
“It’s been a week and why don’t you have anything substantial, Agents? All I am hearing is murder after murder and you still have not caught the killer? Care to enlighten me?” fumed the DIG as he paced up and down in his office.
Pin drop silence engulfed the room as Kinjal, Milan and Amber stood with eyes down, not knowing what to say.
And then Kinjal spoke, “Sir, the killer is playing a mind game with us by deliberately leaving easy clues. I am not able to understand his motive; so wanted to discuss each aspect with you”, she said and continued to tell the DIG every tiny detail of the case.
After listening for an hour and examining the murder files, the DIG spoke, “Hmmm. So tell me, Inspector Milan, have you tapped the CCTV footage of all the Dominoes joints of Chandigarh?”
Milan stiffened a bit as the DIG approached him, “Yes, Sir, my team and I scanned each possible Dominoes joint, but with so many customers walking in and out daily, the staff was unable to help us. In some joints, the CCTV cameras were not functioning. Maybe he asks for home delivery. Sir, we also went to every possible chemist and departmental store to trace someone who may have bought a large bottle of a nail polish remover, but no luck as such. It just seems, the UnSub has been very carefully wiping out any leads we may follow.” Milan said, sounding disappointed.
“Ma’am, I also got the call records from Shweta Sharma’s phone records. As expected, the UnSub called her about 30 minutes before her death and it’s once again from a new handset. The location is again Zirakpur and the number was registered on a fake address. The DNA results of the coffee cup found, belong to the dead lady only; the UnSub probably took his cup with him”, Milan reported to Kinjal.
“How are you so sure our killer is a man?” Amber asked, after listening attentively for some time now.
“Because, Agent Amber, in Mrs Karuna Bhatia’s case, her colleague had mentioned that Karuna’s college friend’s nephew was coming to meet her.” Kinjal replied. “As per the photograph we found, Sir, the UnSub is following a pattern by killing those women one by one, as they are standing in the snap. The next target maybe, the two surviving ladies”, she added.
“And the only witness in Shweta Sharma’s case was an old man sitting in his balcony at about 6 am, when he saw our victim sitting on the bench, talking to a slim built man. So it confirms that our UnSub is a male.” Agent Milan added.
The DIG was in deep thought looking outside his office window. He spoke quietly after a while, “Agent Kinjal, I am wondering how is the UnSub ahead of you, in each move you make? He seems to know everything beforehand. Are you sharing the case details with anyone, other than us?” the DIG asked her gently.
Kinjal gulped and replied, “Sir, when we compare our notes, my maid is always around. A milkman arrives each morning and sometimes my best friend drops in. Apart from these three people and us, no one knows am working on this case, Sir.”
“Now, lady, you have to be careful who you speak to, in front of whom you discuss each detail and be alert on opening your door to strangers. Meanwhile, get the addresses of the surviving two women and let’s give them police protection, Agents. We cannot afford more murders. The media and the ministry are breathing down my neck and this case has our police department reputation at stake. Am I clear?” The DIG spoke, firmly.
�
�Sir!” they replied in unison, clicked their heels and left the DIG’s office, each deeply engrossed in their own thoughts.
Joshis’ Villa
Sector 12, Panchkula
DIG uncle was right, Kinjal thought, she needed to be more alert. She wanted to tell him about the peeping tom from her bathroom window, but it would have been embarrassing explaining the same to the men folk.
Kinjal shuddered at the mere thought that she had been living under vigilance, under someone’s dirty intentions. Her each action and private moments were being watched! Each time she undressed or relieved herself, she was being seen by a pair of creepy, dirty eyes! It was simply sick! She felt suddenly cold and sat quietly holding Amber; maybe just to get some warmth and security.
But she had learnt from her late mother never to give up and face each hurdle as it came. If the UnSub was playing a game with her, she will double cross him now. Kinjal just sat holding her mother’s locket in her hand and let the fire build within her, gradually. She knew she would need this volcanic anger soon to track down the scoundrel who destroyed her family and now, was mentally torturing her.
Kinjal realised she had been sharing each detail with Vikash, each night. But he was her best buddy, how can she even doubt him; she shrugged off her fears.
Milan instead, talked to the maid if she had any clue about the case; but she actually seemed a real dumb nut. But apart from the DIG and Vikash, who were regular visitors at the Joshis’ place, Kinjal would hardly speak to anyone.
Milan did not like this. He knew the DIG was family friends with the Joshis’, but why would he meet her at home alone? And who was this Vikash gentleman, who had access to Kinjal’s house, as well? Was he so close to her? Milan was restless and could feel his Kinjal slipping away. She belonged to him and no one...no one had a right to come close to her.
No one. Period.
“Ma’am, the maid said the DIG has come here often? Why does he need to see you at home when you can meet at the HQ itself?” Milan asked Kinjal, rather annoyed at the DIG.