by Shilpa Jain
“What! She had been kidnapped before too? When were you all going to tell us that? Mr Lohana too did not bother mentioning that.”
“Ma’am, I was about to tell you that when you went upstairs.”
“Did you know that Pari went out of the house at nights with her friends?”
The house maid was shocked to hear this.
“No ma’am, it can’t be true. Pari baby was scared of darkness. She would never go out of the house. She often saw the aghori lurking around the house at nights.”
“What? Did you all report this to the police?”
“No ma’am. We never saw anyone where she pointed out. Mrs Lohana said she had become delusional. She was under some treatment. I don’t know the details. Perhaps, Mr Lohana can help.”
Tanvi asks Mr Lohana to step forward. Mr Lohana requests Tanvi to conduct his and Mrs Lohana’s interrogation in privacy. She obliges.
They move to a private guest receiving area on the ground floor.
“Alright Mr Lohana, you have a lot of talking to do. Shoot.”
“Do you think my girl is alright? I have seen the blood in her bed.”
Tanvi looks at Mr Lohana with a serious expression. “We are not sure if it is Pari’s blood. Even if it was her blood, she could survive that much loss according to Dr Abram. So, let’s assume she is alive. Now talk.”
“Madam, Pari is a very simple and sweet child. She was born out of my first marriage. I have a 7-year-old son, Aarav, from my second marriage. Pari’s mother was a very good lady. But unfortunately, she suffered from some illness that the doctors were not able to diagnose. They said that she was fine. But I knew she wasn’t. She became very depressed and lost weight. She stopped eating. I got worried. After I lost hope, my friend, Sunil, told me about an aghori baba. He was known to cure illnesses for a fee, but not in the form of money. I came to know about it only after he visited our house. He met my wife and then saw Pari and asked for her. I was in a fix. I thought that I would deny to hand over Pari after he treated my wife.”
Mr Lohana asks for a glass of water.
“Please continue. What was the aghori’s name?” asks Tanvi, impatiently.
“Chamundakaal.”
Tanvi makes a note of the important points. She ensures that the camera is capturing everything.
“I know that after you denied he threatened to take away Pari.”
“And he did, after a year,” says Mr Lohana, staring vacantly at Tanvi.
“Was Pari’s mother cured?”
“I told him that I didn’t believe she was cured, so I would check on that and then take a decision. He agreed to wait for 15 days. Her health had indeed improved after that. He came back after 15 days. I called the police to drive him away. He threatened to take away Pari. He was locked up in jail for two months for threatening me. After he was released…”
Mr Lohana sips some water again.
“Yes?”
“He started some tantric practice. We often found lemons pierced with pins under the Peepal tree. He secretly met my wife and chanted mantras in her presence. After about 15 days, Pari’s mother deteriorated and passed away. That was when I began believing in black magic.”
“No Mr Lohana, there is no black magic.”
“There is ma’am. There definitely is. Like her mother, my girl too will be dead if you don’t save her.”
Mr Lohana begins to sob. Tanvi becomes uncomfortable and hands him his glass of water.
“What about the kidnapping episode nine years ago?”
“One day, the driver who picked up Pari from school was delayed by a few minutes. He found that Pari was not in school. She told the school security guard that the driver was probably waiting for her in his car. The guard let her go. The aghori kidnapped her and took her with him to his den in a nearby forest. He kept her with him for five days before she was tracked by the local police. She seemed fine. There were no signs of physical or sexual assault on her. She would just stare at everything and everyone. Doctors said that it was the effect of passive marijuana inhalation. She was never the same after that incident. She was always scared and imagined seeing the aghori everywhere. We took her to counsellors. They tried their best. She never spoke about what happened in those five days. The aghori was jailed for 15 years for kidnapping a minor. We had slapped many other charges as well to increase his jail time.”
“If he was in prison, there is no way he was lurking around here.”
“Right ma’am. When Pari said that she had seen him for the first time, we checked with the prison authorities. He was in jail. I personally visited the prison to ensure. I thought that it was her fear and it would pass. Last we heard was that he died in prison three years ago. She saw him after that too. Then, we realised that her hallucinations were serious and started therapy.”
Tanvi feels sad for the poor child. She notes in her writing pad that the aghori is dead.
Sushant Patil interrupts, “Ma’am, I have checked the cctv footage. An aghori did kidnap Pari.”
“What?” reacts Tanvi.
Chapter 4
Tanvi stares at Sushant and processes the contradicting information she just received.
Sushant shows her the cctv footage. A man in black robe is seen carrying a load draped in black fabric over his shoulder. The face of the man is not visible.
In another footage sometime later, the man is seen moving around the bungalow. There is no load over his shoulder. His face is painted with ash and charcoal. It is impossible to identify the contours of his face.
If the original aghori is dead, did some other aghori kidnap Pari? A gang of aghoris… or a disciple, brother, or a son of the original aghori?
“Did you check the cctv footages of the neighbourhood?”
“Yes ma’am, he is seen around the bungalow at about 2:00 a.m., but the girl is not with him.”
“What time did he take the girl away?”
“At 1:30 a.m. from the backyard.”
“So, he went and hid the girl somewhere and then did his ritual around the bungalow?”
“I think so.”
“Was he seen entering the house?”
“No.”
“He could have entered when the power was out.”
“Possible.”
“From where does he come into the cctv frame?”
“From the place he disappeared. He is not seen in any of the neighbourhood cameras. Cleverly evaded them. He seems to be familiar with the place.”
“Hmm… go outside and check with the neighbours. Perhaps, someone has seen him. And forward a shot of the kidnapper from the footage to all check posts and traffic control. We don’t have a face, but this is the best we have for now.”
“On it ma’am.”
“Rane, what have you got?”
“The phone company will take a while to release the records. But I have asked to expedite Pari’s records. The security guard who did not report for night duty is here. His child was hospitalised last night. I confirmed with the hospital, he was there.”
“Ok. You wait here and supervise. Keep an eye on everyone and on the phone. Let’s hope that the kidnapper calls; although after watching the footage, the chances seem dim. I’ll go to the headquarters and get information on the aghori. Tell Soma to be after the forensic guys for reports. Where is Makrand?”
Rane points in Makrand’s direction. Makrand is busy on the phone.
Tanvi shakes her head, walks towards him and speaks sternly, “Tell your girlfriend, if she prints any of the information you have passed on in her newspaper, I’ll come after her.”
Makrand looks shocked. He disconnects the call and asks, “How did you know?”
“It’s my goddam job to know. Now come with me to the headquarters.”
At the headquarters, Tanvi walks towards DSP Yogesh Pai’s office. She takes a deep breath in the cool air-conditioned office and feels refreshed after driving through the midday October heat that was outside.
�
�Yadav, what’s the report? Any leads?” asks the DSP.
“Sir, the case is complicated. From what it appears, the girl has been kidnapped by an aghori. But the aghori who had threatened to kidnap her is dead.”
DSP Pai bunches his brows, “I am not sure what you mean. Anyway, what’s next?”
“The aghori was serving his sentence in Thane central jail. I am going there to get more information.”
“Yadav, you have to hurry up. We want the girl alive before it leaks to the media. We certainly don’t want people fearing tantrics and black magic. That will be like Diwali bonanza for the media, a week in advance.”
“I am on it sir.”
“Also, whom do you recommend for a promotion this term?”
“Sub-inspector Harsh Hegde, sir. He is hard working and deserves it.”
“Hmm, I’ll consider your recommendation.”
Makrand stares at Tanvi. They come out of the DSP’s office.
“He snubs you and you recommend him for a promotion?” asks Makrand.
“I keep my personal and professional lives separate, and so should you.”
She tosses her car key to Makrand. “I hear you are a good driver.”
Makrand catches the key and gleams. “I’ll not let you down.”
“We’ll see.”
Tanvi sits in the back seat. After she is satisfied with Makrand’s driving skills, she catches a wink.
She dreams of a lady in a black burqa rushing through the narrow streets of a slum in Mumbai. The lady reaches the main road. It is 2:00 a.m. The road is deserted, except for some heavy vehicles speeding at more than 100 km/hour.
Carrying a heavy stone in her hands, she hides in one of the by lanes connecting the main road. She is breathing heavily and sweating profusely under her burqa. Her heart is racing like a galloping horse.
Some men emerge from a nearby bar. They are drunk and are singing some song with obscene lyrics. The lady tightens her grasp on the stone. Through her burqa, she tries to recognise the people who have just come out. Not her target. She steps back into the darkness.
After a few minutes, a couple of men step out stumbling and blabbering. She recognises the voice. Her target is out.
She steps out of the dark. The men are startled. Before they can act, she charges towards one of the men, crashes into him and pushes him into a gutter.
Raising the stone with both hands, she hits the other man on the back of his head. He is knocked out. She hits him at the same spot five more times until he is dead.
She throws the blood-stained stone down and uses a piece of cloth to pick up the bottle of alcohol that one of the men was holding. She pours the alcohol on the stone.
The man in the gutter is lying there in shock. She throws the bottle at him. The bottle crashes on the road near the gutter with a shattering sound. The man ducks and closes his eyes. Before he opens his eyes, she disappears into the numerous lanes inside the nearby slum. While fleeing, she discards her blood-splattered burqa into a burning bonfire in one of the alleys. She is wearing another burqa inside.
She goes back into her house and slides into the sheet beside her mother who was sleeping when she left.
“Where did you go?” asks her mother.
“Was just drinking water,” she replies, calmly.
“Okay,” says the mother and goes back to sleep.
She sleeps peacefully that night. When she gets up in the morning, she sees a doll lying next to her. She picks up the doll. It laughs wildly and screams in a robotic voice, ‘I KNOW YOUR SECRET’.
Tanvi gets up with a start. She is perspiring all over. Makrand notices her condition in the rear-view mirror.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
“Yeah, just a bit overworked. How much more time?”
“Just 15 more minutes.”
Tanvi looks at her watch. It is 1:30 p.m.
She calls Sushant Patil, “Any leads?”
“None of the neighbours have seen him.”
“That’s weird. Rich people hardly sleep,” she remarks.
“I wonder how the man managed to dodge everyone.”
“Hmm. Interrogate Sunita Lohana and her son. Find out what relationship they share. After all, she was the step mother.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Tanvi disconnects the call and notices Makrand’s smirk in the rear-view mirror.
“What?” she asks in an irritated tone.
“I think that is very cliché. Step mother setting up step daughter for her blood son.”
“It is, but we have to rule out that possibility. You got a better lead?”
“No. We’ve reached,” says Makrand and parks the car.
Tanvi gets down and stretches herself. Inside the central jail office, she meets Inspector Balbir Singh.
“Madam! To what do we owe this pleasure?”
“I need information on aghori Chamundakaal.”
Balbir Singh frowns and replies, “He died a few years ago in our prison. What could he have possibly done now?”
“I need to see his file. Here is the formal order.”
“Formal order? Is it serious?”
“It’s a case of a missing girl. It’s urgent.”
“Okay. I get it.”
He directs his junior to get the file.
“The case is old and will take a while. I suggest you take a lunch break. There is a decent restaurant nearby,” suggests Balbir Singh.
Tanvi looks at Makrand’s drawn face and decides to take the break at the restaurant. The restaurant serves Punjabi food and has a reasonably good décor.
At lunch, Tanvi asks Makrand, “So Makrand, this girl Madhu, are you serious about her?”
After an initial reaction of surprise, Makrand replies, “Yes, absolutely.”
“Did Hegde introduce you to her?”
“Yeah. How did you know?”
“Well, you aren’t my first trainee.”
“You mean…”
“Yes. You were set up. Welcome to crime branch.”
“Why didn’t you warn me?”
“You are not a kid. Besides, I wanted to check your judgement of people and your sensibility towards your work.”
“And I failed miserably.”
“You did. But none of my trainees have passed the Madhu test. She is irresistible.”
“I’ll call her up and…”
“She won’t receive your call and she won’t call you back. I have already taken care of that. But I am not going to protect you anymore.”
Makrand looks distraught.
“I’ll give you a few minutes to get over your heart break. Join me when you are done grieving.”
Inspector Balbir knows that Tanvi is a no-nonsense CID officer. He keeps the file ready for her.
The first page has a picture of the aghori. He looks fierce, has well-defined facial features and piercing kohl-lined eyes. In his pre-prison picture, he has long, matted and dirty hair, beard and moustache. He adorns a long black tilak on his forehead. The rest of his face is covered with ash. He is wearing a long black robe. She notices a black mole on the outer angle of his right eye.
In his post-prison picture, he is clean shaven and bald. His sharp features stand out on his tanned complexion. He has an evil look in his eyes.
Tanvi begins to make notes in her diary.
Name: Chamundakaal
Age: 35
Height: 5’5’’
Weight: 54 kg
Body type: Lean
Skin: Dark brown complexion
Identification marks: A 1 cm black mole just outside his right eye and a 3 cm long horizontal scar on his right upper arm.
Special note: Did not like speaking to anyone and spent most of his time meditating and chanting mantras.
Cell mate: Dushyant Tiwari
Parole: Never granted
Visitor: One visitor on two occasions, a tantric aged 31 years, name Kaalbhairav, disciple of Chamundakaal.
Death: Died in a fire
accident in the prison kitchen. Bodies of five prisoners and a warden on kitchen duty were found charred beyond recognition. He was one of them. No DNA was conducted.
Tanvi asks inspector Balbir Singh, “No DNA test was conducted on the dead? So, is it possible that the aghori escaped?”
“Unlikely ma’am. We accounted for all the other prisoners except the ones who died in the fire.”
“I see. I’d like to speak to his cell mate Dushyant Tiwari.”
“Oh! That guy was released a week ago. This is his address in our records. He was booked for abduction and brutal sexual assault on a minor. He was in prison for 17 years, some of which he spent with the tantric.”
“And do you have the address of his disciple?”
“These tantrics are nomads. You’ll have to check the forest stretch from Yeoor to Borivali, unless he has moved from there.”
“Do you have a photograph of his disciple or the cctv footage of his visit?”
“None. Unless we have special instructions, we don’t preserve cctv footages that are over a year old.”
Makrand comes in and joins Tanvi in the investigation. His eyes are sore from weeping over his lost love.
“Feeling better? Want to shed some more tears?”
He nods negatively.
At 3 p.m., Tanvi receives a call from her acquaintance Zeenat, “Tanvi?”
“Yeah Zeenat.”
“I am facing some issues.”
“Oh. Can’t discuss now. I’ll meet you tomorrow. I’ll call to fix the time.” Tanvi disconnects cutting Zeenat’s call abruptly.
Tanvi’s phone rings again.
“Madam?”
“Yes Patil?”
“I have found someone who has seen the aghori.”
“That’s good! Interrogate him. I am on my way.”
Makrand looks at her expectantly to receive the car key.
“I’ll drive. You clearly haven’t recovered,” says Tanvi.
The traffic is light. She anticipates that it will take her a little over an hour to reach the place if she drives fast enough. Zeenat calls again. Tanvi ignores the call.
She receives a message, ‘Akram arrested. He has threatened to reveal our secret.’
Tanvi deletes the message and continues to drive. I’ll have to take care of Akram permanently. He has become a pain in the ass.
