by UD Yasha
‘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 up 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. This 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.
‘What happened next?’ I said.
Manohar put the bottle down. ‘Then I heard a noise,’ he said.
Just then, the door of the interrogation room opened. Senior Inspector Kapil Rathod walked in. He had a paper in his hand. He crossed to the table and put it in front of me. He eyed me for a flash. I could make out he was confused to see me there. As far as he knew, I was not a practising lawyer anymore. I would tell him how I was involved in this case later. Having worked with him on multiple cases before, both in the capacity of a lawyer and private detective, I knew I could count on him to do the right thing every time.
Manohar’s gaze formed a triangle as he glared at Rathod, the paper and me.
I looked at the paper Rathod had given me. It was an official court order to hold Manohar for the next twenty-four hours. I knew the CID would push for the ballistics report by then. If the gun Manohar was holding matched the murder weapon, then he would be put in jail until the investigation began or new evidence came up, that painted him in a different light.
I thought of telling Manohar about the report later, but I could tell from his face he knew it was something important. I needed him to go through his story with nothing else on his mind.
‘Can I see it?’ he said.
‘Of course,’ I said, handing it to him, realizing that denying his request would only make him more curious.
He read it quickly and then laid the paper on the table.
‘I didn’t do it,’ he said again.
‘You said you heard a noise.’
‘Yes.’
‘What sort of a noise?’
‘What’s going to happen now in the investigation?’
Manohar was not going to let this go unless I told him. I said, ‘They will run tests on the samples they took from your body and clothes for gunpowder residue and other particulates. A gun powder residue match alone would not be conclusive evidence. All it would prove is that you were near a firearm when it was discharged. I will claim there is still reasonable doubt that you did not fire the weapon yourself. They will also see if the weapon that you were holding matches the murder weapon. A positive match there coupled with all the other evidence found against you will be enough for the CID to charge you with multiple homicides. The court will order your immediate arrest. A court trial will follow, where your guilt or innocence will be established. The arrest will be ordered only if the gun in your hand matches the one used to kill.’
‘There’s a high chance that it’ll be a match.’
I didn't like the sound of that. But I wanted to know Manohar's version of the story. ‘You told me you heard a sound. What was it?'
Manohar shut his eyes tight. He was showing signs of being in distress for the first time. Maybe the reality of the situation was just hitting him. I needed him to hold himself together for a few more minutes. He opened his eyes.
‘The sound was loud. I don't know what it was. But I'm sure it came from inside the house. From upstairs. I was already scared. On hearing the loud sound, I genuinely thought there was a threat to my life. The noise could have come from the killers. They could have still been inside the house. I looked around for something that I could use in self-defence. I saw a flower pot. The kitchen was next to me. It would have knives and other hard steel utensils. But my eyes fell on a gun on the floor. I had missed it altogether earlier. Maybe because I wasn't looking for it and my mind had already been inundated with too much information. I ran to it and picked it up. I had no idea what to do with it though because it was my first time holding a gun. More sounds came from upstairs. I pointed my gun in the direction of the sounds. Then it became silent. I could not move. Before I knew it, the place was swarming with cops.'
I said nothing. Manohar had not even mentioned Rucha till then. Was she gone even before he arrived? Or was he lying? He had to be a great actor. Post the interruption by Rathod, Manohar’s story had been infused with an excess of emotion.
‘Can you help me?’
‘Can you describe the sounds you heard?’
Manohar looked away. Maybe he was trying to remember. Maybe he was trying to make something up. Throughout, I felt he had been hiding something. There was more to the proceedings of the evening than what he had described.
‘I can’t remember. They were loud though. Short and loud.’
‘Will you be able to confirm the sounds if you heard them again?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps. I was in shock. I’m not sure.’
Still no mention of Rucha.
‘Why are you here?' he said, surprising me with the question as if he was reading my mind.
‘I am a defence lawyer. Isn’t that clear?’
Manohar shook his head. ‘Was my case assigned to you?’
Does he know I am lying? ‘Yes,’ I said. I did not want to tell him about Atharva’s call for obvious reasons. ‘I want to do a good job defending you.’
‘I have nothing else to say. I cannot prove what I just told you. But I know I did not do it. I understand it looks bad for me. If I were the police, I would be thinking I was guilty too. But I am a simple teacher and I wouldn't ever think of killing anyone, no matter what they did.'
‘How do you think the police got to the crime scene while you were still holding the gun?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe they were responding to the shots that actually killed those four people.’
I made another mental note to ask Rathod about it later.
Manohar’s breathing became even again. He drew his hands close to his body and licked his lower lip again. If he had killed them, he had thought it through. Both the actual act, and now the story.
Silence resounded to the point of it getting deafening. In all my experience of being a criminal defence lawyer, most suspects told me the most minute and even irrelevant details that they thought would make me believe they were innocent. With Manohar, it was the exact opposite. He had maintained an air of calmness even when he had gotten emotional while telling his story. Everything he told me was relevant. No words were wasted. It was concise. Too succinct an account. While he was maintaining that he was innocent, he had not yet said or done anything that had made his case. What was Shaunak Manohar hiding?
‘How many bodies did you see in the house?’ I said.
He shot me a quizzical look. ‘I told you. Four.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course. Even the inspector who arrested me said I was being arrested for committing four murders.’
‘There was no fifth person?’
Silence.
‘Are you aware that the Sinha family had six members?’
Manohar stayed still.
‘The four people who died. The mother. And an eight-year-old daughter.'
Manohar was unmoved again. But his eyes sputtered just a fraction, enough for me to catch it.
‘The mother was away to conduct a fertility related workshop,’ I said, pronounci
ng each word slowly. ‘The daughter was supposed to be home. But she isn’t there anymore.’
Manohar licked his lower lip again and gulped. ‘I don’t know anything about that,’ he said and sat up straight in his chair.
‘Do you have kids?’ I said.
‘A boy and a girl.’
‘Just like Daksh and Malini Sinha.’
‘That’s right.’
‘How would you feel if one of them was kidnapped?’
‘I don't know what you're trying to imply.'
I pulled out my phone and opened Rucha’s photo. I turned my phone around and showed it to Manohar. ‘That’s Rucha Sinha. She’s only eight years old. She is missing.’
‘As I said, I don't know anything about that,' Manohar said, his stare so strong that I would have felt it on me even if I was not looking at him.
There are only a few things I have been certain of in my life. But at that moment, I was convinced that Shaunak Manohar was lying through his teeth about not knowing anything about the disappearance of Rucha Sinha.
Chapter Four
It was almost eleven fifteen when I came out of the CID’s interrogation room. I saw familiar faces outside. ACP Siddhanshu Shukla was one of them. He was not pleased to see me.
I saw Rathod speaking to a constable near his office. I felt guilty for a beat on seeing him. He had been my partner in solving cases in a way. But I had vanished three years back, without telling him anything. Mahesh Bhalerao, Rathod’s partner at CID was also outside the interrogation room. He had joined the Pune CID only recently, so I did not know him personally. I had only met him three months back when I had worked with the CID to find my mother and catch a maniac serial killer.
ACP Siddhanshu Shukla was standing with his arms folded and his eyes squarely focused on me. He was not my biggest fan to put it lightly. A falsified news story from five years back, in which a journalist had put words in my mouth, had halted Shukla's promotion to the CBI in New Delhi. The article claimed I took credit for catching a killer. Even though my investigation was pivotal to the case, I had not said a word to anyone, let alone a journalist. Shukla believed that I told the story purposely. His career had been stuck in limbo since then. He hated me for it.
