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Word Count : 4000

Target : 120 Votes

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60 | Aravind Hariprasad

| 18th May |

| Morning  |

The door of the conference hall was provided with a slight thrust from outside, with its knob visibly rotating on its own axis.

The DCP fixated his gaze at the entrance as a new face entered inside the conference hall, followed by the IG and his two minions.

"Team, rise." He hurled out a command, and all ten members of the SIT, along with Dr. Kanwal Dheer Chadha and Dr. Rukhsaar Fathima, got up from their seats all at once.

Unlike the IG, who looked as if he was going through the last phase of constipation, the senior official walking ahead of him towards the central chair, on the other hand, smiled at them all benevolently.

"Sit down." His gentle voice reached their eardrums.

And as he positioned himself behind the central chair, the IG stood up one step behind him with the two constables. He cleared his throat and began, "Officers, please welcome Retired Director General of Police, Mr. Aravind Hariprasad." He paused, smiling at the senior official. "The case we have been working on is, in fact, a serial crime case, and sir here has extensive experience in handling such cases, so, from here onwards, he will guide you all until the Maia's month case comes to a conclusion."

Hinduja looked on as Raghav nodded his head for once while a crisp greeting escaped his lips. "Jai Hind, sir."

The others followed.

Aravind Hariprasad smiled again. "Sit down." His sparsely scattered salt-and-pepper hair rested effortlessly on his round head while his kind yet sharp pair of eyes behind the glasses examined them all in quick succession.

Each one of them settled back on his or her respective chair as the IG smiled at the retired official for one last time. "Thank you so much for this, sir."

"My pleasure." Aravind replied softly, with his hands locked behind his back.

Nodding his head, the IG shook hands with his and then left the room along with his two minions on his tail.

Just as one of the two constables closed the door behind himself, the retired DGP settled down on the central chair.

"Sir, should I read out the details of the case and our progress until now to you?" Raghav asked.

Raising his palm, Aravind shook his head. "I have been updated with everything, including your identities." He then shifted his gaze onto the forensic doctor duo, who were both sitting on the last two chairs. "Dr. Chadha and Dr. Fathima, since no one claimed or identified that perpetrator's body and five days have already passed, we have to do away with the cremation soon, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir."

Kanwal Dheer, and Rukhsaar answered together.

"Most probably by evening today." Rukhsaar added.

"Alright," Aravind replied. "Any leads from anyone?"

Ramandeep, Rukhsaar, and Kanwal Dheer raised their hands at the drop of a hat.

"Interesting." Aravind remarked, impressed. "Let's begin with Dr. Fathima and Dr. Chadha then."

Rukhsaar smiled and glanced at Rukmini. She then shifted her gaze to Kanwal Dheer.

"The ballistic reports have actually arrived." She announced passing a hardbound file to Rukmini, who passed it on to the central chair.

As the retired policeman went through the ballistic reports, Rukhsaar began, "On the night of 13th May, DCP Katoch fired three bullets with his pistol, Profiler Rao fired two bullets with her revolver, while the opposite side fired seven bullets. Revolvers don't eject any cartridge casings, but pistols do." She paused, going through her copy of the ballistic report.

"And we found ten cartridge casings on that site in Bhagwantpura along with seven bullets from different sources." She met Aravind's eyes. "Sir, after the ballistic examination of the bullets and cartridge castings that belonged to the opposite side, we can conclude that they have been fired from a .45 rimless caliber pistol."

The DCP scrunched his brows together, taken aback. "I beg your pardon. Can you please repeat?"

Rukhsaar reiterated. "You heard it absolutely correct, officer. The bullets from the other side were fired from a .45 rimless caliber pistol."

"But .45 rimless comes under the prohibited bore weapons category of the Arms Act of 1962 in India." Ramandeep pointed out, shocked as well.

"Exactly." Patwardhan added. "Prohibited bore weapons can only be issued by the government to certain groups of people like the Army, Central Para Military Forces, or the State Police force. Civilians can't actually possess such types of weapons unless they live in an area infested with terrorists, or they are government officials who are targets for terrorists. Other than these two, only MPs and MLAs, private citizens, and family members of people associated with anti-terrorist programs are allowed to use such weapons."

"How can the members of a criminal syndicate possess a prohibited bore weapon?" Rukmini interjected.

Meanwhile, Hinduja stared at her nails, completely silent, while rotating the paperweight on the table.

Aravind Hariprasad chuckled faintly. "Sathe told me that Officer Hinduja Rao here has created a psychological profile of the leader of the syndicate, and according to that profile, the leader is a psychopath. Plus, according to the investigation until now, the team has not found any traces of the syndicate in the underworld too." He exhaled. "And now the ballistic reports are saying that the bullets that have been found belong to a .45 rimless caliber pistol, which is a prohibited bore weapon. So, can we conclude from this that someone extremely higher in the hierarchy of power who has an upper hand in the governmental procedures too, happens to be the leader?"

"Yes." Raghav agreed.

"A psychopath who possesses extreme financial strength in general and hierarchical strength in the government, along with an inclination towards Christianity." Hinduja trailed. "I don't know why, but somehow I feel that all these three factors don't add up together to form the profile of one particular individual."

"Why?" Rukmini probed, in confusion.

Hinduja shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know. I can't pinpoint that specific logic, but I just feel these three factors are not adding up at all."

Aravind sighed. "Okay." He averted his gaze from Hinduja to Rukhsaar. "Anything else?"

"Yes, sir." Rukhsaar replied and glanced at Kanwal Dheer. "Dr. Chadha shall take over from here onwards."

With one sharp nod, Kanwal Dheer got up from his seat and said, "After the autopsy, we found the following things from the body: A pillbox ring that contained traces of sodium cyanide and an inverted tattoo of the letters J and B aligned closely on the chest. Along with this, Dr. Fathima found a malunion in his ring finger. His stomach contained traces of undigested porridge along with sodium cyanide but nothing other than that."

"Porridge?" Hinduja raised a brow.

"Yes." Kanwal Dheer nodded.

She sighed, clicking her tongue. "Tasteless."

Aravind, Kanwal Dheer, and Rukmini chuckled faintly while the rest smiled.

"Rao." Raghav warned sternly. "Focus on the reports, not on the porridge."

Hinduja shrugged.

"Anyway," Kanwal Dheer resumed clearing his throat. "Apart from this, we found nothing on his body externally or in his clothes, not even a gun. There were fingerprints on the clothes, but they were his own fingerprints. I did ask Rukmini to circulate the picture of the pillbox ring in every jewelry showroom and shop around the state to find its origin." He glanced at Rukmini. "In the end we didn't find anything concerning the ring too. Turns out it is custom made. I deduce it is something that the syndicate makes all its members wear."

"Possibly." Aravind acknowledged. "Anything regarding that tattoo?"

Rukhsaar and Kanwal Dheer both peered at each other for a second and exhaled together. "It is a very normal tattoo. We did circulate its image in all the tattoo parlors around the state. None of the tattoo artists recognized it as their work at all."

"Perhaps a custom-made symbolic tattoo of the syndicate?" Jishu pointed out.

"Hard to say," Gaurav replied.

Aravind Hariprasad's gaze suddenly fell on the male officer sitting beside Raghav. He appeared a bit impatient. Correcting the position of his glasses, he called out. "Ramandeep, you raised your hand earlier. Do you have something extremely urgent to say?"

"Yes, sir." Ramandeep got up. "I have a lead on that man from one of my informers."

Collective gasps echoed in the conference hall.

"That's fantastic!" Aravind exclaimed. "Go ahead."

Ramandeep nodded. "Sir, I gave this guy's picture to Nandu, my informer. Initially he didn't get anything, but the day before yesterday, he was at an elite club at Strazzer Square, that posh area in Southern Delhi, for investigating another case under the local police. He happened to show this guy's pic to one of the bartenders there, just by chance."

Scratching his forehead, Ramandeep continued. "The bartender recognized the guy. He didn't know the name, but he did say that he used to see this guy in that club every Wednesday and Sunday night from May 1. Nandu questioned a few more, bartenders, attendees and dancers there."

"And?" Aravind probed further, now absolutely alert.

The rest of the team was in a condition no different than his.

"Very low-key, and no one there knows his name. You can say he was almost like a shadow. But something very interesting—the second floor of that club has a private suite reserved for the most high profile guests, and that is the suite that this guy used to go to on Wednesday and Sunday nights."

"What is the name of the club, Raman?" Raghav questioned, clasping his fingers on the table.

"The Crown." Ramandeep responded as a flare of recognition rose in Raghav's eyes.

Both of them looked at Patwardhan at the same time. Suddenly all three of them stared at each other as Ramandeep nodded his head, as if answering their unasked questions. "Exactly."

"What happened?" Aravind voiced out the moment he noticed the exchange between the three men.

"Sir, actually 'The Crown' is an elite 'members only' specific club." Raghav trailed. "And all three of us, I mean, Raman, Patwardhan, and I, we all have its membership."

Amusement marred the senior official's visage as he nodded his head. "Excellent. But then, how is it possible that none of you three have seen this guy there?" He intertwined his fingers on the conference table. "And judging from your expressions, I deduce that you are already cooking up some plan, DCP?"

Raghav chuckled, "As Raman just said, this guy used to visit 'The Crown' on Wednesday and Sunday nights only, that too, from the 1st of this month, and during this time all of us were busy in the case, so none of us has actually visited 'The Crown' since last month. I guess that's why we didn't recognize him." He explained. "As for the plan, sir, today is 18th May, and it's Thursday today. Sunday is falling on 21st May. So, how about we investigate the club on Sunday? Especially that suite on the second floor?"

"Not in uniform but in civvies, I believe?" Aravind drummed his fingers on the table.

"Yes, sir."

"So, basically, a covert operation?"

"Yes, sir." Raghav replied positively.

"Are there any chances of this operation or investigation, as you call it, getting risky?"

"Possibly, sir."

Aravind lifted his arm and placed his hand on the crown of his head, drumming his fingers on the round bald patch there. "Then you will have to form a team, and we will have to activate an armed team for backup too, just in case."

"I do have people in mind for this, sir." Raghav declared.

"Names?"

"Ramandeep, Patwardhan, and I, since all three of us have membership cards. Hinduja can go with us as a plus one." He stated. "Daleep ji has bullet injuries on his legs, so he can stay back in the control room while the rest of them can wait outside, a little away from the club, as backup, in case something goes wrong."

Daleep Bedi puffed up his cheeks like a child who was denied chocolates.

"Alright." Aravind smiled and then glanced at the female officer in black formals sitting to his right. "But this can turn extremely dangerous, and tagging a female IAS officer along can potentially put her life on the edge, right?" Raising his arms up, he shrugged. "Please don't get me wrong; I am not a misogynist or something. I just want her to be safe; in fact, I want all of you to be safe."

"She is trained. She will do well." Raghav looked at Hinduja, who smiled back at him. "I trust her."

"Oh yes! Madam ji uses her revolver like a pro!" Daleep Bedi added in excitement. "Very fast!"

"Beauty with brains." Patwardhan commented, his face turning red, as he turned his face away from her bashfully.

Rukmini and Praapti chuckled.

The faint smile on Hinduja's face tumbled down in a trice. She cleared his throat. "So, it's final. The investigation in 'The Crown' is scheduled for this Sunday, May 21."

***

At eleven in the morning, Raghav and Hinduja strode in the direction of the retired Director General's cabin.

"Pritika Chandran and Karishma Sehwal," he dictated. "Both were of the same age, 15. They are missing."

"After 15th May, 18th May, that is today, was the next probable date of abduction, since today marks the 'Ascension of the Lord,' which is an important event according to the liturgical calendar. So, obviously, they are missing."

"Sometimes, I hate my job." Raghav exhaled heavily, knocking twice on the door. "Anyway, let's get done with what we are here for first."

"Yes." Hinduja nodded.

Just then, a faint 'come in' resonated from the other side of the door.

Raghav rotated the doorknob with a faint push as both of them entered inside.

"Heard about those two missing girls." Aravind announced as both of them greeted him consecutively. 

"Yes sir, but we are here for something else actually." Raghav replied.

"Shoot." The DGP looked at them both keenly, awaiting their answer as he gestured at them to settle down on the two visiting chairs.

Raghav glanced at Hinduja and began, "Both of us suspected two things. Either we have a mole in the control room or the team, or someone has bugged the conference table and the office allotted to the team. The latter is not the case, as I examined both the places, and I found nothing at all."

"What?" The DGP straightened his back, appearing a little startled.

"Yes, sir."

"So?" He probed.

"I did detect someone suspicious but it's yet not clear if he is really a mole or not."

"Who?"

The DCP promptly took his tablet out of the tablet bag he was carrying, switched it on, and gyrated its screen towards the senior official.

On the screen, Aravind Hariprasad looked on as a short-statured man in khaki uniform, seemingly a policeman, was standing outside the common office room allotted to the Special Investigation Team, with his left ear against the door.

It seemed as if he was eavesdropping on the conversation going on inside.

"This is a clip from the CCTV footage of 13th May at 2:20 p.m. in the afternoon." Raghav explained. "And the man in the footage is Inspector Prakash Dubey, assigned to the control room as of now. I clearly remember that on 13th May, from 2 to 3 or 3:10 a.m. or something, we were all discussing a possible method to zero down on the abduction sites, right?" He averted his eyes to Hinduja, asking for her opinion.

"I agree." She nodded.

Raghav then met Aravind's eyes again and continued, "Judging from his body language, Prakash Dubey was in fact eavesdropping on our conversation. He even called someone immediately after that, in another footage from the waiting room. On top of this, that night, when Hinduja suggested Daleep Ji and me to divert the car to Bhagwantpura instead of going to Brahmanagar, I remember calling the control room to inform them about this so that they could alert the quick reaction team in case of an emergency. And as it turns out, Prakash was present in the control room at that time too."

"My God." The DGP whispered, bewildered. "What now?"

"I have put my informer on his tail. We will get something soon." He responded. "But I did get my hands on something baffling."

"What?"

"Some rumors within our circle suggest that Prakash Dubey is Union Minister Vaikunth Patil's lap dog."

"Vaikunth Patil?!" Aravind's eyes enlarged. "One of his twin daughters was the first victim of this case, this year. Right?"

"Yes, sir." Raghav nodded. "Snigdha Patil. She went missing on May 1."

"What is even happening here?" The DGP exclaimed. "My lord!"

The DCP shook his head in irritation, sharing a common feeling of disbelief with the DGP.

"Anyway, sir, I'll take my leave now." Raghav stood up. "I might have to go investigate the crime scenes again."

"Okay." Aravind breathed out. "You can go, but I need to discuss the psychological profile of the leader of the syndicate with Hinduja, so she will have to stay back."

The feminine figure in the room who was quietly settled in one of the visiting chairs, raised her head and smiled feebly at the DCP.

"Okay." He reciprocated.

"Jai Hind, sir!"

"Jai Hind."

Hinduja turned her head around and looked on as Raghav wended his way out of the cabin, locking the door behind his back.

She then volt-faced and straightened her back to meet Aravind's eyes.

Silence prevailed as the old man and the young woman stared at each other, deadpan.

"There was an attack on the manor last night." And the blanket of silence evaporated into thin air as her feminine voice fell on his ears. "Five attackers."

"I see my most favorite student in person almost after seven months, and all she talks about is her husband's gigantic ass family manor getting attacked, eh?" Aravind chuckled.

Hinduja sighed, smiling faintly, "I am serious."

"Okay!" Aravind raised his hands up in submission. "Go ahead."

Hinduja nodded. "Out of those five, four were shot by two security professionals."

Aravind felt the length of the gap between his brows decreasing. "The fifth one?"

"Some idiot in black clothes shot him and then escaped." She answered. "Also, someone actually crushed their faces. All five of them."

"A mole in the manor?" He probed, in intrigue.

"Possibly."

"And who do you suspect that 'idiot,' who killed the fifth attacker, to be?" He air-quoted the word idiot, sarcastically.

"Perhaps one of those two idiots who are living with you in your house?" She sassed back.

"Not possible." He contradicted her deduction, shaking his head. "They were both at home last night."

Hinduja rubbed her face tiredly. "Then I really don't know who it could be."

"What happened?" He lazed back on his chair. "You look so tired."

"I don't know. I really don't know." She took off her specs and kept them on the table. Rubbing her eyes, she groaned. "He is confusing me."

"Who?" He asked, drumming his fingers on his bald patch.

"Who else, uncle?" She stared at him impassively.

"Your husband?" He smiled lopsidedly.

"Yes." She whispered, fixating her eyes on the statue of Lady Justice kept on a table in the corner, aligned against the wall. "Believe me when I say this, I come across so many people every day, and it doesn't take me more than a minute to look right through them and find out who they are in reality. But he..." She trailed, still staring at Lady Justice. "I just don't know who he is. He is so elusive."

"What actually happened?" He voiced out, appearing concerned.

She averted her gaze from the statue of Lady Justice to look at him. "Imagine being married to your spouse for six months straight and having no clue of the fact that he or she is suffering from PTSD."

"Mahadevan Dogra has PTSD?" Aravind inched closer, dumbstruck.

"Yes." She mumbled. "And I triggered him into an episode last night."

"At times," she trailed off. "I feel as if I am not even aware of what is going on, actually. I feel as if he is even controlling my thoughts around him, as if he is manipulating me into thinking what he wants me to think."

She paused, entering a stupor. "And uncle, it's in his eyes. I have seen it in his eyes. I can't pinpoint it, but he knows something. Not only is he connected to this case somehow, but he definitely knows something."

"Is that not the reason why you married him?"

She wet her lips, meeting his eyes, "I agree with you, but one of the major reasons was Anirudh too. But now, I feel... I feel..."

"What, beta?"

"I feel as if he can see right through me. He knows about Chitra. He even knows that I wear a wig and hide my real hair and that I take sleeping pills because of my insomnia." She paused. "At times, I fail to recognize my own self when I see my face in the mirror, but the way he looks at me, it's as if he recognizes me as who I really am. As if he knows me more than I know myself."

Aravind chuckled. "Do you trust him?"

She rubbed her face. "I am afraid, yes." She gulped, "I trust him enough to keep my guards down in front of him. I trust him enough to pray for him, something I haven't done in years. I trust him enough to cry for him and cry in front of him."

"You cried?" He stared at her in incredulity. "That too in front of him? Interesting."

"Yes, I did." She scratched her neck. "But you know what's more unsettling than this?"

"What?"

She breathed in deeply. "I trust him enough to shove all my principles and my sense of right and wrong down into the gutter, just for him."

"Is that the reason you called Shera this morning?" He looked at her slyly.

"Kind of." She looked down at her lap.

"What are you up to, beta?"

She chuckled. "You will see soon. Just stay updated with all the news channels for the coming few weeks."

"Don't tell me." Disbelief inked his tone of speech as he chuckled ever so slightly.

Hinduja doubled over in laughter. "Well, a disciple must always try to be two steps ahead of his or her teacher. Right?"

Instead of commenting on her statement, Aravind asked instead. "No sane person will suffer from PTSD just like that. So, Mahadevan—I mean, how did he...?"

"My grandfather-in-law, as in Giriraj Dogra, and aunt-in-law Darshana Dogra didn't die normally. They were murdered in the most inhumane ways." She paused, averting her gaze back to the statue of Lady Justice. "In fact, I have a hunch that all the deaths in the Dogra family in the last decade or more, excluding Gayatri Dogra's death, are far from normal. And it doesn't stop at this. There is more, much more than what's visible to the naked eyes."

"Shivalika Bohra's death, as well?"

"I am not sure." Picking her specs up from the table, she wiped its lenses using the corners of her handkerchief.

"Tell me honestly," He scrutinized her countenance as she shifted her gaze from her specs to meet his eyes. "In your recent poems, have you mentioned him anywhere?"

"Yes." She mouthed. "Multiple times."

He smiled, peacefully. "So, your trust is not the only factor that you have graced him with, eh?"

The air around them weighed heavy with silence as Hinduja ducked her head down, failing at maintaining any eye contact with the old man sitting before her across the table. 

The whole game of chess revolves around a very simple statute. While the monarch rules all the pieces, it's her majesty who rules the board.

So, may the supreme lord show her some mercy.

May the monarch show her some mercy.

Because the queen won't.

- Her

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