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

by UD Yasha

  ‘They caught the guy who did it,’ Atharva said.

  ‘So fast?’ I said, surprised.

  ‘He was at the crime scene when the CID arrived. They have him in custody now.’

  ‘And he confessed?’

  ‘No, he’s denying all charges. He says he is innocent.’

  Silence.

  ‘I want you to meet him as his lawyer,’ Atharva said.

  I was confused. Why was Atharva asking me to defend a person who had been arrested for killing his sister’s family? ‘You think he’s innocent?’ I said.

  ‘The CID thinks he’s guilty.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Why do you want me to defend him?’

  ‘I want to know why—’

  ‘That’s not how it works,’ I cut in, my defence mechanism kicking in. Even thinking about defending another accused person sent shivers through my body. The wounds of my mistake three years back were still raw. I said, ‘I cannot just go in as his lawyer to find out why he did it.’

  ‘You misunderstood me. I don't want to know why he did it. There's something else. There should have been five bodies at the house. My brother-in-law, his two children and his parents. But instead, there are just four. The family's youngest member my niece—Rucha—is missing. She's just eight years old.'

  My heart raced. I realized why Atharva had called me. I knew where he was going with this. His next words rang in my ears.

  He said, ‘Siya, I want you to represent the man who killed them and find out the truth. I want you to find Rucha. He'll tell his lawyer what happened at the crime scene. Rucha is just eight years old and I have no idea where she is. She was a premature child. Even now, she needs special care and attention. She keeps falling ill otherwise. I can't even imagine what she would be going through right now. I spoke to Malini before calling you. She’s absolutely stunned. She doesn't know what to do. Her family has been murdered and her daughter is missing. Siya, I need to find Rucha and I need your help with that.'

  Right then, I knew deep down that my plans for a calm and relaxing night had gone for a toss. What I couldn’t have known then was the magnitude of horror that was about to hit me.

  Chapter Two

  Atharva’s words played in my mind over and over again. I need your help, Siya. I remembered seeing Rucha’s baby photos. She was the smallest baby I had ever seen. She was thirteen hundred grams at birth. I had seen her recent photos that Atharva had shared on social media. Rucha still appeared weak and small for her age but she always had a beaming smile on her face. But now she was gone.

  I had a decision to make. I had to consider two factors.

  First, cases involving children had always been close to my heart. I would have jumped at the chance to help Atharva in any way I could, but I also had to consider something else—defending a potentially guilty client.

  In my days of being a criminal defence lawyer, I only used to take on innocent clients. But then, three years ago, one case changed my life. I wrongly defended Kunal Shastri—the most twisted and pathetic killer I knew. He and his wife killed six children together. I had defended him, thinking he was innocent, falling for the false testimony of his wife and the fake evidence they had produced. I did not know then that even his wife killed with him. After I had successfully defended Kunal, they had almost killed another girl. Suhana Kulkarni had been saved just in time. But not before she had suffered brain damage. Three years on, she was still battling for her life. Every day she spent in coma pushed her closer to the point of no return. The weight of my mistake had crushed me down every moment since then, making it hard to even breathe at times. From that day onwards, I had turned my back on practising law.

  I closed my eyes to stop the memories from engulfing my mind. A face flashed behind my eyes. It was an image that had haunted me every night for three years. It was of Kunal Shastri’s face. He was smiling at me with his cold dark eyes after just telling me he had killed all those kids.

  But more than that, I wanted to protect my mother. We had just gotten her back after she had been held captive for over sixteen years. Taking this case would mean exposing maa to the thoughts of murders and kidnappings once again. Dr. Pande, her therapist was satisfied with her progress. I did not want to throw it all away. She had experienced the very worst of humanity for sixteen years.

  But a little girl was in danger. There was a chance that I could save her. Help her come back home. Just like I had done with my mother. There was hope to reunite her with her mother. I knew how good that felt. A piercing pain shot through my head.

  ‘Siya, are you there?’ Atharva said.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘So, what do you think? Can you help me?’

  ‘Yes. I meant yes, I’ll do it,’ I said, surprising myself. ‘I’ll speak to the suspect the CID has in custody. I’ll take him on as a client,’ I said and heard a sigh of relief across the line escape Atharva’s mouth.

  ‘I’ll send you the details they have shared with me. Thanks, Siya. This means a lot. I’ll tell you if my leave is approved,’ Atharva said and hung up.

  I pulled down the phone from my ear and stood silently. The sun had long set. It was eight-fifteen on a hot and dry summer night. A bead of sweat trickled down from my forehead. I wondered whether I had made the right decision. Would maa be okay? I had a plan to shield maa from all of this I would keep her away and not tell her much. Would that even work? I began to shiver thinking about it all.

  I was also not trying to seek redemption or forgiveness for putting Suhana Kulkarni’s life in danger. Finding Atharva's niece or even a hundred other missing girls was not going to undo my mistake. Never. One thing the past three years had taught me was to own my actions—both the bad and the good. I had messed up. I still looked at everything in my life through the lens of my mistake.

  Knowing deep down that I could play a role in saving a girl’s life made me feel better. But it also filled me with apprehension. What if I make a mistake again? My hands went cold as I realized what was at stake.

  I inhaled deeply.

  I knew I had to take on the case when I realized I was already thinking of ways in which I could find Rucha. At the same time, as the clouds of my own insecurities began to lift, I realized the graveness of the situation. Four people had been killed and a girl was missing. The suspect was already in police custody, denying all charges. I wanted to know more about the case.

  I pulled my phone out to dial the number of the person I trusted the most in the CID. Senior Inspector Kapil Rathod. I knew I could always count on him to do the right thing. He had helped me in every possible way ever since I had started practising law. He had come to my rescue hundreds of times. But I was considered an outsider by the police and the CID, and that often put Rathod at crossroads. Yet, he continued to do whatever he could to assist me from inside the system. We trusted each other because of one thing. At the end of the day, we had the same aim—the innocent should be protected and the guilty must be punished. That alone was good enough for us to have an almost blind faith in each other. And in times when the difference between life and death is a mere picosecond, blind faith helps you continue breathing.

  But then I hesitated.

  I did not want my opinion to be clouded by the CID’s interpretation. I would just look at the preliminary case file they would have compiled on their suspect. It would just have the facts, which were exactly what I needed then. I would speak to Rathod after speaking to the suspect they had in custody.

  Just as I turned to go back inside the house, I heard my sister Radha’s two-wheeler at the gate. With one motion, she pushed the gate open and pulled over in the parking lot. She knew something was up with just one look at me. She took off her helmet and pulled her curly hair into a loose bun.

  People kept saying we looked similar. It was mostly because we had the same curly hair and green eyes. We had got both the traits from our mother. We were both around five feet ten inches in height and it had been passed down to us
by our father.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Radha said and hugged me tightly.

  Radha had been my deepest source of strength since I had left practising law. She was exactly the person I needed to see at that moment.

  ‘Do you remember Atharva Mehta?’ I said, seeing Radha nod her head as I pulled out of the embrace. ‘His sister’s family is murdered. And his eight-year-old niece is missing.’

  Radha did not need to hear the rest. She knew where I was going with this conversation.

  ‘Go,’ she said. ‘Just remember that you are mighty good at what you do.’ She pulled me in for another hug. ‘Don’t worry about anything at home. Keep me posted on everything.’

  I nodded once and rushed upstairs. I slipped into my jeans and put on a kurta. No thoughts entered my mind. My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text message. It was Atharva.

  Leave granted. I am taking the next flight out of Delhi and will be landing Pune by twelve thirty in the night.

  For some reason, a sense of relief spread through me knowing that Atharva was going to come. Despite the circumstances, I was excited to see him. With everything that had happened, it would be good to be with a person who I was comfortable with. We had history but that was a long time ago. Two teens helplessly in love. Never once had I regretted my time with him.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket once again. I pulled it out. Atharva had sent me a photo of Rucha Sinha. She was dressed in a dungaree. She was holding a teddy bear that was almost as big as her. I stared at the photo, into those innocent eyes, and wondered where she was and if she was safe.

  With a newfound resolve, I walked to my car. I thought about all the heinous crimes I had come across in my life. I had sat down face to face with the most gruesome murders and rapists. I had dealt with the most crooked and corrupt politicians. I had the first-hand experience of catching serial killers and kidnappers. It had not been easy, but I had somehow managed to keep my wits in a world that was always trying to test my sanity. The key was to try and not take any case personally, however hard it was. I had defended child murderers two times. I was right once but I was wrong about the other, the latter leaving me with scars that still made me wake up screaming in the middle of the night. The one common thread in all my cases up until then was that the child had already been harmed and I was trying to ensure there was no further casualty.

  But I had never been involved in a case in which a little girl had been taken. And now my competence was going to decide if she was going to be brought back home alive. With that sickening feeling, I drove to the CID office, knowing deep down that things were going to get bad very soon.

  Chapter Three

  ‘Thanks for coming, Miss Rajput,’ Shaunak Manohar said, his eyes squarely on me.

  I tried hard not to look at his scar.

  ‘Call me Siya,’ I said, trying to establish some warmth with Manohar. I needed him to cooperate if I wanted to know where Rucha was.

  From the CID’s interrogation of Manohar till then, here’s what I knew about Rucha’s evening till then. She was supposed to be at her friend’s house the entire day. But she was not feeling well, so she had come back home early. Her friend’s parents had dropped Rucha at her house at five, instead of nine.

  I eyed Manohar. He was still and not fidgety. At least not yet.

  ‘Why did you decide to defend me?’ he said in a deadpan voice.

  ‘It's my job. I defend the accused,' I said and paused, thinking of my next words. I was going to lie. There was no way Manohar would know. ‘I was appointed to your case.'

  Silence.

  ‘As your legal counsel, I need to know what you have told the police so far.’

  ‘I just told them that I was innocent.’

  ‘What about the blood on your hands and clothes?’

  Manohar looked away for a flash before his gaze turned to me again. He said, ‘I told them that it is of the people who were killed.’

  ‘You see how that makes you look guilty?’

  ‘I did not kill them.’

  ‘The police have already filed a preliminary charge sheet against you. I have a copy with me right here,' I said, rummaging inside my bag for it.

  ‘I know it looks bad,’ Manohar said and his face softened for the first time.

  ‘Can you tell me what happened?’

  ‘I said I did not do it.’

  ‘I don’t care if you did it. I’m here to defend you regardless.’ I gulped. That was the first time I had used those words.

  Manohar kept his gaze on me. I had met accused like him before. They refused to speak to their own lawyers. There were multiple reasons for it—too broad to narrow down. But once I got through to them, they would start telling me everything. I wondered how I was going to get Manohar to talk. The clock was ticking. Every minute in a missing person's case is important. Especially in the first twenty-four hours. I had to show urgency but not haste. I had one chance and I did not want to blow it.

  ‘I'm on your side,' I said. ‘I'm not here to frame you or trick you. But I need to know what happened. My first objective is to keep you out of jail. I'll be honest with you. Whatever the CID has on you makes you look guilty. You'll be put in jail pending investigation. If you can tell me what happened, I can make a case for you to get bail. All I have to do for that to happen is create reasonable doubt in CID's argument. That is my job. All you have to do is narrate the events of the evening.'

  Manohar licked his lower lip slowly. He narrowed his eyes. But stayed silent.

  ‘Did you know the Sinha family?’ I said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Malini Sinha was my wife’s doctor.’

  Malini Sinha was Atharva’s sister. I knew from passing conversations that she was a doctor. Ideally, I would have read about all the people involved in the case. It would have made for more insightful questions. But all ideal scenarios are punched in the mouth when things go south.

  ‘What were you doing at their house this evening?’

  Manohar opened his mouth but then hesitated. He looked both ways. He put a hand to his mouth.

  ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of,’ I said.

  ‘I don’t know about that.’

  ‘What were you doing at their house?’

  Silence.

  Either Manohar did not have a good enough reason or he was hiding something.

  ‘I can't help you if you don't cooperate. You should know that all our conversations are bound by the attorney-client privilege. Whatever you tell me cannot be used against you in court.'

  ‘You said you wanted my version of the story.’

  ‘That’s right’

  Manohar moved in his chair and licked his lower lip again. He said, ‘I was going to meet Daksh Sinha.’

  Daksh Sinha was Malini’s husband. I said, ‘What was the purpose of this meeting?’

  ‘Social meeting, two friends catching up,’ Manohar said and shrugged his shoulders. He then put his cuffed hands on the table and leaned forward. ‘I went to his house as per our plan. But I was shocked to see what had happened inside.’

  ‘What did you see?’

  ‘I was supposed to call Daksh when I reached his place. We were going to go out for a drink. I called him but there was no response. I continued standing outside for a few minutes, waiting for him to pick his phone.'

  ‘What time was that?’

  ‘Around eight thirty. I don't remember exactly,' Manohar said. ‘I continued to wait…I called Daksh's mobile phone. It'll be there on his phone's call log.'

  Atharva had called me at nine thirty. I nodded and said, ‘Go on.’

  ‘The lights were on inside the house. After waiting for a couple of minutes, I glanced at the house and that's when I noticed that the front door was partially open. I found it strange but it didn't occur to me that something bad would have happened. I got out of my car and went up to it. I rang the bell out of courtesy. Nobody responded. I called Daksh's mobile number again. Th
is time, I could hear it ring inside. I found it strange. I waited outside for a minute or so. But then I decided to go in.'

  Manohar's eyes grew larger and the pitch of his voice went up for the first time when he said, ‘I first saw the bodies. I was so stunned that I could not even count how many of them were inside. There was a lot of blood. I wanted to puke. You've got to understand, I had not seen a dead person before that. I wanted to get out of there. I couldn't think straight. I don't know why but I went further inside. I had a thought. Even though everyone appeared dead, there could be a slim chance that one of them was still alive. And in that case, they could still be saved. So, I walked towards Daksh. I was trembling and my mind was a mess. I froze when I saw the body of his son. I don't remember how the next few minutes passed. All I know is that I checked to see if I could find a pulse in any of the four bodies inside. I'm a teacher by profession. I'm trained in basic first aid. So, I knew what I was doing. But I had never actually seen anything like that. I panicked when I realized they were all dead,' Manohar's voice trailed off.

  I stayed quiet, measuring Manohar, thinking about his story. I knew there was more. But I did not want to rush him. I rummaged inside my tote bag for a bottle of water. It was the middle of May. The peak of summer in India. I opened the cap and put the bottle in front of him.

  ‘Take a sip,’ I said.

  Manohar looked suspiciously at me. Then grabbed the bottle with his cuffed hands and gulped down a fourth of the one-litre bottle. He held the cold bottle against his face and closed his eyes.