by UD Yasha
It was covered with a white sheet up to her neck.
Sonia panned her vision across all of us. She said, ‘The full reports on the body, the crime scene and the lock of hair are ready. I'll talk about the first two together as I've found a link between them. You'll see why. As I had said earlier, the marks on her neck and the crushing of the bones in her neck hinted that she died from asphyxiation. My autopsy confirms that the killer repeatedly pressed and released her neck. The victim would have felt like she was going to live, but just then he would have put his hands around her neck again. He drew blood from her hand. This is where it gets interesting. I don't know if it is anything much. But it's my job to tell you everything I find. When a person dies, blood begins to clot. I can see the change under a microscope.'
Sonia turned to me and continued. ‘The blood that was used for the message had no clotting, suggesting once again that Naina Rajput was alive when blood was drawn from her. On the other hand, the blood—that of Supriya Kelkar— which was splashed in the bathroom was clotted. That means it was taken a while after she was killed. I would say at least three hours after she had died. I found something else as well. Supriya's vagina showed sign of recent penetration. As you know, the vagina normally becomes moist on arousal. In this, there's no evidence of that, which suggests Supriya was penetrated after she had died.'
‘The killer had sex with Supriya’s dead body?’ ACP Shukla said.
‘The evidence certainly points to that. I also found traces of latex inside her vagina, indicating the killer used a condom.’
‘Wouldn’t sex leave behind some DNA evidence on the bedsheet or room?’
‘I'm afraid not. The killer had come prepared. The bedsheet on which our victim was kept had been changed. It was a fresh sheet. I asked the husband and he said he did not recognize the bedsheet, suggesting the killer had brought it with him. The condom shielded his sperm. The condom also indicates that the sexual act was premeditated.'
‘So, the killer stalked Supriya when she was alive and then raped her dead body,’ I said, thinking about the killer’s connection to Zakkal. How did the two even know each other?
‘The world is full of twisted people, Miss Rajput,’ Sonia said. ‘There’s no way to know for sure, but it could have so happened that the killer drew blood from Supriya after he had sex with her dead body. That could explain the three-hour gap.’
Silence.
‘There’s more,’ Sonia said. ‘The human body has between four and a half to six litres of blood. It’s difficult to give an exact figure, but roughly one litre was splashed in the bathroom. An additional two hundred millilitres leaked out of her body. Given all the blood loss, she should not have lost more than a litre and a half of blood. But I found she had only one litre of blood in her body. I can’t say this for sure.’
‘So, is there’s a chance that the killer took Supriya’s blood with him?’ Rathod said.
A stunned silence played in the room. First necrophilia and then taking the victim’s blood. Everyone was trying to take it all in.
Sonia said, ‘Estimating the quantity of blood is always difficult so it may not be accurate. But the blood we found is lesser than the volume of blood there should be in a human body.'
‘What did you find about my mother’s lock of hair?’ I said.
‘I was just coming to that. Hair is interesting by itself. At times, it is better than even DNA. Especially in the case of missing people. A strand of hair grows continuously. So, different parts of a strand have different characteristics. They echo the conditions in a person’s life when it was growing. The hair we found had footprints from eighteen years back. I can tell what sort of a life she has lived by analysing it.’
‘My mother went missing sixteen years ago.’
‘Yes, her hair must have been of a certain length then. In fact, I saw a drastic shift in her lifestyle post her kidnapping.’
The words stung me and the reality of it all encompassed my mind. My mother was out there somewhere right now, somehow fighting on against a monster.
‘What sort of change?’ I said.
‘Earlier, before the disappearance, her lifestyle was top notch. Her diet was good and she was living a healthy lifestyle. Then, sixteen years earlier, it took a drastic turn.’
Sonia pointed at a screen behind her. She used a remote control in her hand to zoom into the picture of a hair strand. It was divided into bands of blue, yellow and red of different tints – dark, medium and light. ‘The shades won't mean much to you but I was using them as a reference to measure certain attributes. But to give you the gist, the lighter the shade, the healthier is the lifestyle.' She pressed another button. The strand was labelled by a timeline. ‘As you can see, in 2003, the colour became dark red. At this stage, I found evidence of increased stress in her life.’
‘She was kidnapped in 2003,’ I said.
‘That’s right. From that point onwards, I can tell that she was regularly given heroin. Victims kidnapped for such a prolonged time are likely to be drugged. Mind you, the study that I am quoting from did not have a big sample size.'
I tried to process what Sonia was saying. The severity of being kidnapped for such a long time had never hit me before with such a strong intensity. My mind was starting to numb after thinking about all the things maa would have had to endure.
Sonia continued. ‘I know this is hard for you, Siya. Do you want a minute?’
I waved her off. ‘No. Go on, please. This is important.’
‘As you can see later, the colour of the strand is between dark orange and dark pink from the time she was kidnapped. That carried on for about ten years. From 2003 to 2013.’
‘That was when Zakkal was caught,’ I said, struggling to find words.
Sonia said, ‘Yes, Zakkal was arrested around the same time. After his arrest, someone else started looking after her. Zakkal’s arrest also marked a big change in her lifestyle. First of all, the heroin was stopped. She was drugged every now and then. But by using Propofol. I can see traces of Propofol in her hair. It is a drug used by doctors to induce sedation. Famously, Michael Jackson died from an overdose of Propofol. The dosage given to Naina Rajput varied. At first, it was high. It would have put your mother in a deep state of unconsciousness. But about six months after Zakkal’s arrest, as you can see, the colour of the strand got lighter. That means her health improved. The Propofol dosage was reduced. Her nutrition got better. I can't again say for sure but if I were to guess, she was put on an IV with the right vitamins and minerals. I’m guessing the Propofol dosage was high at the start because her new captor wanted to wean her off the Heroin addiction she would have developed. This person knew what he was doing.'
‘The strand gets even lighter,’ Rathod said.
‘Yes, it does. Because twenty-four months back, she was completely taken off Propofol.’
‘Does that mean she regained consciousness?’ I said.
‘Yes. And not just. No drugs were given to her post that. Her nutrition was as good as what it was before she was kidnapped. I can also notice that she started exercising around the same time.’
‘Can you tell us where she could have been kept?’
‘Till the last two years, I suspect she was indoors. Or in an area where she got very little sunlight. However, it changed again in the past couple of years. The uppermost band of her hair strand has been the healthiest it has ever been in the past sixteen years.’
‘Does that mean she’s now in a different place?’
‘I can’t say that. That’s all the hair strand analysis told me.’
‘That’s quite a lot,’ ACP Shukla said.
‘As I said, a strand of hair can be quite a great storyteller.’ Sonia turned to me. ‘I hope that was helpful.’
I said, ‘So, correct me if I’m wrong. But Zakkal’s preferred way to sedate her was by using heroin. The person who took over later preferred Propofol.’
‘But then it was stopped completely,’ Rathod said.
‘That’s right,’ Sonia said.
I asked, ‘How easy is it to get Propofol without a prescription?’
‘If you know the right people, you’ll get it at a fifty per cent premium in the black market.’
‘What kind of expertise is needed to administer Propofol?’
‘Doctors will be able to give it without a problem. But it can be taught to a layperson as well. You just need to know the dosage and how to give an injection.'
‘For all you know Zakkal could’ve taught the Bedroom Strangler how to do it because he has advanced training in first aid,’ Shukla said.
‘One of Zakkal’s pen pals was a doctor,’ I said. ‘Is there anything you found that can be used to identify the person behind this?’
‘Nothing. By analysing the hair, I can only tell you about the victim’s state. Unless of course there’s something incredibly unique in the hair that narrows the suspect pool.’
Silence.
‘That’s all I have for now,’ Sonia said. ‘I’ll let you know as soon as Dr. Barve gives me the report on the pollen grain.’
‘Thank you. If I don’t already tell you enough, you always do an incredible job, Sonia,’ Shukla said.
We dispersed. I pulled Rathod to the side and said, ‘We need to visit Hardik Karve—Zakkal’s lawyer.’
He referred to his watch. ‘It’s eight thirty now. He won’t be in his office till at least ten.’
‘I’ll pick you up from here at nine thirty. Be ready,’ I said. ‘We’ll speak to Dhruv Kataria’s family after that.’
Rathod nodded.
‘Also, one more thing. Can you get a warrant to get details of Kataria’s bank account?’
‘Yes, I’ll ask for it,’ he said and paused. ‘We found two people communicating with Zakkal who have sociopathic tendencies. Manoj Bedi and Shaam Pundlik. They’re both medical students.’
‘I know about Shaam.’
‘Even Manoj Bedi showed anger, hatred and frustration. Zakkal replied to him with varying degrees of enthusiasm. He wrote to Zakkal three years ago about his fascination with dead bodies. He was a medical student then pursuing his MBBS. He spoke at length about how he gets a hard penis on cutting dead bodies. Especially dead women. He said he has fantasized about jerking off on a body.’
‘Even Shaam Pundlik showed the same tendencies.’ I said and looked away. In the past three years, I had forgotten how repulsive a few people’s actions or even thoughts could get.
Rathod continued. ‘Zakkal encouraged Bedi to break into his medical school at night and execute his fantasies. He even suggested three burial grounds where he could have sex with fresh bodies. Zakkal told him of a way by which he would know which graves have fresher dead bodies. My officers spoke with Bedi some time back. He is a weird character with no alibi for the murder. One of my officers will follow him for a couple of days. I’ve got one more who’ll be visiting Anil Verma. We can bring him in if he doesn’t cooperate.’
‘When did Bedi and Zakkal last communicate?’
‘Two months ago. Bedi had written to Zakkal telling him he was getting bored while masturbating on dead bodies. Zakkal told Bedi to kill the ones who he thought would turn him on the most when they were dead.’
‘That’s just twisted.’
‘What about the other pen pal—Shaam Pundlik?’ I said. ‘Where is he?’
‘I’ve tasked two officers to find Pundlik.’
‘Is he hiding?’
‘He’s not where he’s supposed to be.’
‘We tried his home and the hospital where he works. But he’s been away for the past week. No one knows where or why.’
Silence.
As we broke away and I turned for the staircase to go upstairs, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out. It was an email from Dr. Sonia. She had sent me the file on Dhruv Kataria. I walked up the stairs with only one thought in my mind. No matter what happens, I’m going to find out who gave the pollen to Dhruv Kataria.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Shadow gave me a warm welcome when I returned to the waiting room. He somehow always knew when to cheer me up. Radha offered me sandwiches that I accepted gladly. I again used the drive back home to tell them about what Sonia had said. I kept the graphic details to myself. They need not know about them.
I went to the garage once we got back home. I needed some time to myself to figure out where this investigation was going. I closed my eyes.
Here’s what I know. Zakkal knows the Bedroom Strangler. He trusts him a lot as he let told him where he had kept the women he had abducted. Zakkal also trusts the Bedroom Strangler enough to allow him to take care of his victims after he went to prison. I knew that the pollen grain that Zakkal gave me is crucial to all of this. He would not have given it to me otherwise.
Which got me thinking about someone else. Dhruv Kataria.
I opened the file Sonia had sent me.
Kataria was forty-four years old. He had a wife and four children, three girls in their early teens and an eleven-year-old boy. He worked as an auto rickshaw driver and lived in a slum called Kelewadi. He had four more years to serve. He had been jailed once before for robbery. This was his second time in jail. This time he was arrested for assault and battery. He had a drinking problem. He had gotten drunk a year ago and had smashed a rock on his neighbour’s head. The neighbour had survived but had a concussion and nine stitches on his head. I checked Kataria’s lawyer. He had been assigned a public defender.
Someone had gotten to Kataria. They might have promised him something. Or he could have been threatened. Or it could have just been a case of Zakkal making sure no trail was left behind. Kataria seemed too simple to be involved with someone like Zakkal.
I knew that the families living in Kelewadi barely managed to make ends meet. In all probability, if indeed Kataria was paid money to give the pollen grain to Zakkal, the chances of it being transferred to his bank account were slim. Firstly, it would leave a money trail. And secondly, someone of Kataria’s financial status would prefer cash. Though, in that case, I wondered how Kataria would have verified that the payment was made.
I referred to the Kataria’s file and checked who had visited him in jail. There had been only two people—his wife and his lawyer. His wife had visited him two days before he was attacked. She had also visited him ten days before and then two months before that. His lawyer’s last visit was three months back.
Ideally, I would have liked to visit his family to see if they knew Zakkal or had noticed anything odd. Kataria's number and address were on the file. But a drive to Kothrud at nine in the morning would mean I would be late to meet Karve, Zakkal's lawyer. I could always call his wife instead of meeting her. Her two meetings with her husband right before he was killed had made me curious. I knew most of the women who stayed in Kelewadi worked as domestic help, washing dishes and cleaning houses. If I called her right now, I might catch her at the wrong time. But I did not have any other choice. I pulled my phone out and dialled her number.
‘Hello?’ a woman’s voice said in Marathi.
I responded back in Marathi. ‘Is this Sucheta Kataria?’
‘Yes, who’s this?’ There was a lot of noise behind her of running water and clinking utensils.
‘I'm Siya Rajput. I'm a private detective,' I said. The next words were going to be hard. ‘I'm investigating your husband's death and I wanted to ask a few questions.' I said, like ripping off a Band-Aid.
‘Detective?’ Sucheta seemed taken aback.
‘Yes. I’m sorry to have called you but it’s important.’
‘Hold on.’ Sucheta might have walked away as the loud sounds in the background reduced.
‘Do you know anyone by the name of Kishore Zakkal?’
‘Kishore Zakkal? I don’t know. Why? Did he kill my husband?’
Silence.
‘We’re not sure yet. We’re trying to find out.’
‘Can you tell me why you visited your husband two times i
n the past ten days?’
‘I was…I wanted to see him. He’s my husband.’
‘But was there a specific reason to meet him?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘Why?’
‘I said I can’t tell you.’
‘Did you give your husband anything when you met him? Did he tell you anything?’
‘No…no we spoke about normal stuff.’ Her voice was shaking.
‘Tell me the truth, Sucheta. I have a strong reason to believe those meetings were related to his murder.’
‘I didn’t kill him.’
‘I know.’
‘I can’t tell you. I’m afraid.’
‘I’m not the police. I wouldn’t trouble you. I’m looking for something else. The person who was responsible for your husband’s death is also responsible for other deaths. I need to catch him.’
Silence.
‘Sucheta?’ I said.
‘I can’t tell you over the phone.’
‘I'll come to meet you.'
‘I get off work at twelve.’
‘I know where you live. I’ll come there.’
‘No. Not to my house. Come to the metro station being constructed near More Vidyalaya. I’m wearing a yellow saree and a white blouse.’
‘I’ll meet you there at twelve.’
Just as I was going to hang up, Sucheta said, ‘Madam?’
‘Yes, I’m here.’
‘Please don’t tell anyone I’m meeting you.’
‘I won’t. I’ll protect you. No one will know that we’re even talking.’
I hung up, feeling hopeful. My mind wandered to the Bedroom Strangler and his link to Zakkal. I put that thought in the back burner of my mind. I resumed organising my thoughts around the Bedroom Strangler.
Zakkal trusted the Bedroom Strangler with his deepest secrets. They had to have known each other even before Zakkal was caught. Therein was the problem. We knew so little about Zakkal's life. Because we had to save his next victim, we had no time to observe and gather more information on him. That he had not said anything else except to admit to kidnapping seven women had not helped. We did not know what motivated him to kill, how he picked his victims or what he did to do them after kidnapping them. We had no idea why Zakkal splashed blood in his victims’ bathrooms the way he had when he killed Holly Summers and kidnapped my mother. Zakkal had told me yesterday in the prison that he killed his victims when they stopped being beautiful. But beauty was so subjective. Especially for a psychopath.
