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

by UD Yasha

  ‘Her pulse is weak. We need to get her to a doctor,’ Rathod said.

  ‘Even her breathing is shallow,’ I said and put her head on my thighs. ‘Call it in, we need to go to a hospital.’

  ‘There’s a good chance you will be implicated if she’s taken to a hospital.’

  ‘But I can’t let her die. She needs medical attention.’

  ‘What about that friend of yours who helped us with Sitaram Mule?’ Rathod said, turning to face me for a beat.

  Dr. Zara Shroff. I had worked with her when I used to practice law. She had helped us keep Mule’s death under the radar for a few days by preserving his body. We had handed it to the police after the investigation. I had spoken to her a couple of times since, mostly as an effort to reconnect with friends I had made as a lawyer. I wanted to stop associating them with my mistake. I was taking it slow and it had been going well.

  ‘I’ll call her,’ I said, wondering whether it was the right not to take the woman to the hospital.

  I called Zara and explained the situation to her, and asked if the woman could be taken care equally well or better somewhere else.

  ‘What did she say?’ Rathod said as soon as I hung up.

  ‘She knows a doctor who can help us,’ I said and just then, my phone buzzed in my hand. Zara had texted me the doctor’s address.

  ‘Let’s go,’ I said, giving my phone to Rathod for navigation. I continued. ‘His name is Dr. Shantam Rastogi. He was Zara’s mentor at medical college. Zara told me he has a sophisticated clinic which is attached to his own hospital which is next door. She’s calling him to tell him we’re coming.’

  ‘And he would just take us in?’ Rathod said, surprised.

  ‘Zara told me that the two of them go back a long way. She has used his help several times to keep things under wraps. He also has a loyal and efficient staff. Zara was sure he’ll take care of this woman much better and faster.’

  As silence engulfed the car, I saw the woman closely for the first time. I hadn’t recognized her earlier and no bells went off in my head when I saw her up close either. She was probably in her mid-forties and had dark coffee coloured skin. Her hair had strands of grey and was tied using a hairband. She was on the taller side at around five feet eight inches. I guessed she weighed about seventy kilograms.

  I did not realize that the sun had risen until I looked out the window for the first time. A glance at the clock on the dashboard told me it was six ten. The roads were not empty anymore, but Rathod drove faster, blurring out our surroundings.

  I did not realize when we had exited the Mahatma Gandhi Road and turned a few times into several by-lanes until the road got narrower. I checked the woman’s pulse and felt a slight throbbing. Come on, hang in there for a few more minutes.

  Rathod slowed the car as we approached the end of the lane. He stopped in front of a bungalow. A frail looking man, who I guessed was the watchman, emerged from a small door in the compound wall. He was wearing a sweater and a muffler. He opened the gate of the bungalow and beckoned us to drive inside.

  As soon as the gate closed behind us, lights turned on inside the compound. A person of about sixty years of age with a balding head and long beard walked out of the back door.

  The man said, ‘I’m Dr. Shantam Rastogi. Where’s the woman who’s been stabbed?’

  Rathod pointed at the car. The older man and the watchman stepped briskly towards it. The door to my side opened and the three of them pulled out the woman. Before I knew it, they had taken her inside the bungalow through its back door.

  I followed them inside. I heard them in a room to my left. Stepping in, I realized it was a full-fledged clinic. They had placed the woman on a stretcher. Two nurses were starting an IV while a third was setting up the ventilator.

  Dr. Rastogi was leaning over her, examining the stab wound. The old guy who I thought was the watchman was handing Dr. Rastogi different instruments on command. I wondered if he was a watchman at all. Perhaps a nurse.

  Leaning over the woman, Dr. Rastogi said, ‘Set up three bottles of O positive and prepare for operation.’

  The man crossed to the other side of the room and pushed through a door that I had not seen earlier. He came out a few seconds later with three bags of blood and a trolley stand to hang it from. One nurse started the drip.

  Dr. Rastogi said out loud to no one in particular, ‘There’s too much blood loss. Her internal organs could have been hit. We need to minimize the damage. She’s collapsing. Prepare the OT.’

  We watched two more nurses come into the clinic. They pushed the stretcher into another room that I had not seen before. Its door closed after them.

  Rathod’s phone began ringing. He answered it.

  ‘Boss, where are you?’ Bhalerao said. ‘We’re waiting for you.’

  Rathod said, ‘I can’t make it right now. Continue without me. Give me a report and I’ll speak to Dr. Sonia in a bit.’

  ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘My mother was not feeling well. Her chest was hurting. We got her checked, but it’s just a heart burn and nothing serious. But she’s all shaken up so I’m going to stay with her for some time.’

  ‘Yes, sure. Do what you have got to do,’ Bhalerao said and Rathod hung up.

  Rathod said, ‘There’s a triple murder at a house in Model Colony. I was at the crime scene when I got your message.’

  ‘Thanks for coming,’ Siya said, narrowing her eyes, still not remembering texting Rathod.

  ‘You want to tell me what’s going on?’ he said with a hint of frustration in his voice.

  ‘I told you whatever I know.’

  ‘Not about what happened earlier. But why did you get a call and someone claimed to have information about your father?’

  ‘Even I don’t know what happened. I’ve also been trying to figure it out.’

  ‘And is it a coincidence that you get a call about your father’s disappearance—a man who has been missing for over sixteen years with no clue—just a few months after we found his name in a registry that had names of corrupt cops?’

  I paused before answering. I had not told anyone about the first call I had got six months back. I had to tell Rathod, but I was scared. I did not know why. Maybe, a part of me was afraid that my father was actually involved in something illegal. I had wondered for the past six months about how easy it would have been if the person who maintained the registry, the brave former Chief of Pune Police Sitaram Mule was still alive. He had died fighting while trying to rescue a small girl from horrors that I could never think about.

  I said, ‘I’ve been thinking about it too. It’s probably not a coincidence. But at the same time, I don’t know how they could be linked. Sitaram Mule had maintained that register for a long time. He put dad’s name in it before he disappeared. We just found out about it now.’

  Silence.

  ‘Then why do you think it’s not a coincidence? Nobody had any leads about your father for all these years and then you get a call out of nowhere and you are asked to come to a godforsaken place in the middle of the night. What made you think this was a good idea and not a ploy to hurt you? I don’t know how, but you’ve made enough enemies when you used to practice.’

  ‘I have to tell you something,’ I said and inhaled deeply before telling Rathod about the first call I had got soon after our previous case together.

  Rathod shook his head as I finished talking. ‘Why would you keep something like that from me?’

  ‘I was scared.’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘It’s my dad. I have grown up believing he was a good man. Even when he was accused of kidnapping and killing maa, I always backed him. Then when we got to know that he was corrupt, it shattered me. To think that he was not always on the right side of the law like I had thought. I…I was trying to protect the good version of him. When I got that call six months back, I hoped I would find that he was a great man like I thought he was. I wondered if I could prove it myself by foll
owing up with the person who called me. I didn’t have much to work with. I roped in Jay Parikh to know about the call’s origin but got nothing. I was starting to believe the call was nothing much until I got it today again.’

  ‘All this must be crazy, Siya. I know. But you can’t keep pushing people away and try to do everything on your own. I’m glad you messaged me today at least. You needed to do it sooner. Imagine if both of us were there today. We could have backed each other. And forget that, it was dangerous to go out there alone. You can’t have a one-track mind about such things.’

  I listened to Rathod, taking in everything he said. ‘I know. I thought about the dangers of going alone. But this was the first breakthrough in dad’s case. I didn’t want to mess it up. I was told not to tell anyone. I was cautious after what we found at Sitaram Mule’s house.’

  ‘That’s exactly why you should have told me. Because of what we found at Mule’s house. If that was true and your dad was corrupt, there’s a very good chance that it might have something to do with his...disappearance.’

  I paused. Rathod was going to say death. It had been sixteen long years. He had been legally declared dead. Was it true?

  Rathod continued. ‘I have been looking at past records since we found Mule’s corrupt cop register. Just some basic digging told me that a lot of names in it were of corrupt cops indeed. But I cannot account for others like your dad. It doesn’t mean that they weren’t rotten apples, but I just haven’t found enough information on them,’ Rathod said.

  Silence resounded.

  The man who had opened the gate of the bungalow walked up to us. ‘You need to change,’ he said.

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘Your clothes. There’s blood all over them.’

  I shot him a bewildered look. ‘How will I change?’

  ‘The doc told me you could use his daughter’s clothes,’ he said. ‘Her room is the second one down the corridor inside. She’s away studying in Mumbai so you can use her room to change too.’

  I nodded, not knowing what to say. I was not very comfortable wearing someone else’s clothes. But I also needed fresh clothes. The blood on it had dried a bit but it felt moist every time I moved.

  ‘Also, I’m Abhishek,’ the man said, shuffling his gaze between me and Rathod. ‘Please tell me if you need anything else. I help the doc and his wife around the house.’

  I thanked him and went to the doctor’s daughter’s room. It had a queen-sized bed and a balcony. I sat on the bed and buried my face in my hands, hoping I would remember what had happened to me. I hoped I had not hurt the woman downstairs. I’d used a gun multiple times in my life before, but I had never used a knife. I wondered if there was anything special to using it as a weapon than just slamming it into someone’s body. I pictured her face, hoping I would recall something useful.

  Nothing stirred in my mind.

  I opened the cupboard. It had the kind of smell that comes from not being opened for a long time. Clothes were stacked neatly inside.

  I decided not to change. I would just wash my face instead.

  I went to the bathroom and stood over the wash basin, looking at the mirror. Blood caked my face. Some curly strands of my hair had been smeared with it against my forehead. I splashed the cold water on my face, keeping my mouth tightly shut to not let any blood seep inside.

  The water burnt through the cut on my cheek. The pain was refreshing. I splashed some more water on it, making it sting each time until it became numb. I used some soap and lathered it fiercely around the cut. I washed it off after a minute, carefully wiping the skin around the cut. I dabbed it gently at the end. Some fresh blood squeezed out from it and trickled down in contrast to my skin. I stepped out of the bathroom, feeling better and fresh just by not having to sniff blood each time I inhaled. The numbness of the cut had vanished and I felt my heart throb in it.

  Right then, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

  ‘Siya, can I come in?’ Rathod said.

  ‘Yes, it’s open,’ I said and started for it.

  The door swung inside and Rathod stomped in. His face was white. I had never seen him so flustered before.

  Just as I opened my mouth to ask him what had happened, he said, ‘I…I’ve got bad news.’

  Chapter Eight

  ‘Dr. Rastogi just told me,’ Rathod said. ‘The woman…she…she just died. They couldn’t save her.’

  I gulped hard, somehow tasting the blood once again in my mouth.

  ‘She was stabbed and it damaged her organs and there was internal bleeding. She had a cardiac arrest on the operation table.’

  I said nothing but my mind was buzzing. Had I killed her?

  ‘Dr. Rastogi is calling us. He wants to speak to us.’

  I held Rathod’s wrist and he turned around.

  ‘Did I kill her?’ I said, my voice shivering.

  Rathod realized what was happening. I was connecting this to the biggest mistake of my life that I had committed five years back. I had defended a guy named Kunal Shastri. He was a guilty client who I had thought was innocent. His wife was his alibi, but I did not know then that he was killing with her. A few weeks later, he and his wife had almost taken the life of another young girl. Kunal had come to my office, boasting about his latest conquest, telling me I had helped them in their latest kill. The little girl had survived, but three years later, she was still in coma, fighting for her life. My mistake was enough to drive me away from practicing law again.

  Rathod put his arms around me and hugged me tightly. He stroked my back and said, ‘Siya, you can never harm anyone,’ he said. ‘We’ll figure out what happened to the woman.’

  I was too stunned to think. I hugged Rathod back because it felt better and the noise in my brain seemed to mellow down when I did.

  ‘Let’s go,’ I said.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he said.

  I nodded and started for the corridor.

  Dr. Rastogi was waiting for us in the clinic. He turned around when he heard us. He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t save her. The woman was in a bad state when she got here and then her system collapsed as soon as we took her to the operation theatre. I tried to revive her with multiple shocks but it did not work.’

  He turned to Rathod when he said, ‘Who was she?’

  Rathod told him everything that had happened. He shot me a glance in the beginning, asking if he could tell him about my father. I nodded and filled in about what happened at the factory.

  Dr. Rastogi listened to everything patiently and said, ‘Did you find any ID on her?’

  ‘No, there was nothing. No phone, no ID,’ I said.

  ‘So we don’t know who she is,’ Dr. Rastogi said. ‘I’ll check her fingerprints to see if she’s in the police system. If not, I’ll check for other markers in her body.’

  Silence.

  He disappeared into the operation room once again. I had somehow missed the large clock in the clinic. It was twenty past seven. I looked out the window and saw daylight.

  Dr. Rastogi turned to me. ‘Before that, I need to examine you. Memory loss is always a tricky symptom. You don’t know what could have caused it. I’m not trying to scare you but it could be something temporary and fickle, or it could be life-threatening.’

  I gulped and nodded. Dr. Rastogi asked me to lie on his examination bed. As I lay down on it, I popped my head up, looked at Rathod and said, ‘I need to tell Radha that everything is fine,’ I said.

  ‘I called her and told her you are okay. She also knows you’re with me,’ Rathod said. ‘I haven’t told her anything else.’

  That put me at ease. I did not want to worry Radha further. She had been shot six months back and her recovery was moving along smoothly. She was almost back to full fitness. I wondered how I would tell her about the developments in dad’s disappearance.

  My chain of thought was broken when Dr. Rastogi turned on a lamp right above the examination bed.

  ‘As hard as it may seem, I
need you to relax,’ he said and smiled for the first time.

  Over the next several minutes, Dr. Rastogi checked my pupils, asked me maths questions, information about myself, the name of India’s first President, my favourite childhood memory and some random general knowledge stuff to see if any other part of my memory had been affected. I could answer all questions without any problem. Or at least I thought so. The doctor maintained a poker face throughout so I got nothing from his expressions.

  He checked my body for any physical injuries but could not find any except for the cut on my cheek. He put an antiseptic on it and cleaned the wound. He stuck a band aid across it. I was always amused by how there was a band aid of every size for all shapes of a wound.

  ‘What was the last thing you remember?’ he said, while checking my pulse.

  I had gone through it myself many times. ‘I exited the factory. I saw something…rather someone. I don’t remember who it was. Then, I woke up breathless.’

  ‘But are you certain you saw someone?’

  I strained my mind again. ‘Yes, I am sure,’ I said. ‘It still feels extremely real. It’s weird because I don’t remember who it was.’

  Dr. Rastogi narrowed his eyes and nodded. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘It’ll come back.’

  ‘Is she in any kind of danger?’ Rathod said, stepping forward.

  ‘Her vitals are alright. I see no apparent threat. But I recommend you to get an MRI and a CT scan. It will show if something else has been affected.’

  ‘What could have caused the memory loss?’ I said.

  ‘There could be many reasons to be honest. Don’t hold me to this, but if your MRI and CT scan results are clean, its cause is most likely a psychological factor. Your last memory was of seeing someone. I suspect what you saw, or in this case, who you saw triggered so much stress and trauma that you forgot what happened. There’s a lot of research happening around the world on how the brain works. We know a lot now compared to ten years ago but it’s still just the tip of the iceberg. Having said that, you would find the entire scientific community agreeing to the fact that our brain is a fighter. It does its best to protect us. Having a gap in the memory with no physical changes observed in the brain is a classic sign of trauma or stress-induced memory loss. The brain tries to forget something, or not register an event to protect itself.’