The COMPLETE Siya Rajput Crime Thrillers (Books 1 to 4)

by UD Yasha

  'I need a word with you all before we go,' Shukla said. 'There's a reason I didn't call the entire team for this.' He turned to me. 'Devaki Sharma called Rathod earlier today. Someone from our team is leaking stuff to the press, or more specifically to her. I hate that we've a leak but what I would hate even more is for Zakkal to get a whiff that we've stumbled upon his personal graveyard. This development stays within us for now. We can't keep this hidden forever, but let's keep it to ourselves till we know more. We need someone to stake out the farmhouse in case Zakkal comes back to stash another woman. So, I'm going to assign Meghan Mathew on this. Out of all the officers we have, I trust him the most. Having said that, he won't know the details.'

  We dispersed after that. When we were in Rathod’s cubicle, he said, ‘You said Zakkal didn’t make mistakes.’

  I could not contain my smile. ‘Yes, I did. In fact, I had even said he’s made just one mistake in life so far, and it led me to him.’

  ‘He’s made his second now.’

  ‘And we’re going to get that bastard because of it.’

  Chapter Twenty

  While I was quietly happy that Zakkal had made an error, I was deeply concerned that he had been killing all this while. Usually, serial killers got more aggressive and confident the more they killed. Zakkal had not killed anyone in the five years he was in prison so I guessed he would have had a lot of pent up anger and excitement. Killing again after escaping from prison would have possibly felt as good as his first kill because it had been so long.

  Even during his first spell of murders, we believed he had killed or abducted about twelve women. But that was over a span of more than twelve years. Now, he had killed six women in twelve months. He had also just started taunting me.

  ‘You seem awfully quiet,’ Rathod said.

  We were in the car, driving to a place where Rathod felt we would be able to meet Nana Shirole himself. He had not told me how or where it was going to happen. We had reckoned that it would take at least a couple of hours for Justice Chandra to issue the warrant so we decided to pay the people on our list a visit.

  I shared my concerns with Rathod.

  ‘He’s becoming aggressive but that’s why we’re going to get him,’ Rathod said.

  'Zakkal did not mean for those bodies to be discovered, at least not now, and especially not in the manner they were found. I'm hopeful that Dr Sonia is going to find something in her autopsies that will take us a step closer to finding Zakkal. The clues we get from it will be the searing hot leads.'

  ‘And we’ll hopefully get something from Shirole now too.’

  We were driving from Pashan, where the CID office was located, towards Koregaon Park. We had already crossed Sancheti Hospital and the Pune Railway Station. Rathod had seemed confident that we would be able to meet Shirole with the plan he had in mind.

  ‘Have you got any updates from Dr Barve’s office regarding the pollen?’ he asked.

  I checked my phone to make sure I had not missed anything. ‘Not yet. Based on my experience of the time usually taken to find a match, I’m guessing we’ll get a location from them by today evening.’

  We drove in silence after that. We were in Lane Six on the South Main Road when Rathod slowed the car as he looked for a spot to park. Usually, Koregaon Park was always packed but we managed to find a space large enough for Rathod’s car to slide in.

  ‘We’re going to a bar called Hoit Toit,’ Rathod said. ‘It’s owned by Shirole’s company.’

  I knew it was a place that a lot of youngsters and college students frequented. ‘And how do you know he’s here?’ I said.

  ‘I don’t. In fact, I would be surprised if he is here.’

  ‘What’s the plan then?’

  ‘Wait and watch,’ Rathod said as we walked closer to the bar.

  We could hear music and a buzz of conversation right outside Hoit Toit, even on a weekday at two-thirty in the afternoon. The place was packed with people who seemed to be having a wonderful time. Because of my experience with practising law, I could tell this was the perfect front for an illegal business. A lot of transactions would be happening in cash and alcohol was involved. Such setups were the easiest to wash black money and convert it into white.

  ‘Act like we’re a couple,’ Rathod said and linked his arm in mine.

  I felt warmth emanate from my face but I tried to push it away.

  ‘Do you have a reservation?’ a happy-looking lady asked us at the door.

  ‘No, but we know the owner,’ Rathod said with a smile that even I thought was sincere. He extended a hand and slipped her a note of five hundred rupees.

  The lady narrowed her eyes and the hospitable grin on her face faded away. She seemed unsure of what to say but accepted the note from Rathod.

  ‘I can call Nana Shirole and ask him to speak to you,’ Rathod said. ‘But I don’t think you’d want me to disturb him for such a small request.’

  The lady considered the request. There was something strange in her demeanour. She wasn't afraid or intimidated by Rathod's request.

  I hoped Rathod’s game plan was not simply to claim knowing Nana Shirole and barge in. Even if it was, what were we going to do if we got in? Shirole was most likely not inside.

  ‘I’ll call him to make sure,’ the woman said.

  A blast of the cold air-conditioning and the noise from inside hit us for a flash as the lady opened the door and went inside. Rathod could make out I was confused.

  ‘Trust me,’ he whispered under his breath.

  We stood in silence for a minute until the lady got back outside. She had a cordless landline in her hand. She covered the mouthpiece and said, ‘Who should I say is at the door?’

  ‘Tell him it’s his old friends Kapil Rathod and Siya Rajput,’ Rathod said. ‘Since you have taken the efforts of calling him, I can even say hello to him.’

  The woman mumbled our names into the phone. I was closely watching her expressions but they didn’t change much. She handed the phone to Rathod a few seconds later.

  ‘Good to speak to you again, my good old friend,’ Rathod said and then paused while I guessed Shirole spoke.

  Still linked through our arms, we walked as Rathod continued to stay silent while nodding his head. When we were out of the reception’s earshot, Rathod said, ‘Look, I know you’ve paid cops and the tax officials to not look into what goes on at Hoit Toit. But let me assure you that if you don’t meet us, I’ll rein down the police force on you. The CID does not directly fall under the jurisdiction of the Pune Police. So, I can make life very miserable for you for a week at least. Given your contacts, I know that you’ll go scot-free and my career will be ruined. Believe me when I say that I have thought through everything. But if you’re shut for a week, you’ll lose revenue from all the drug sales that happen inside. It’s up to you. Do you want to ruin my career or lose tens of crores of rupees? And it’s not just about the money. Your loyal and high-paying clients will be afraid to buy their drugs from Hoit Toit the next time. The damage could last for years.’ Rathod paused. ‘A simple meeting will make sure that none of those things happen.’

  I had felt Rathod’s arm tighten while he spoke. He went silent again for a few seconds. I could make out that Shirole was speaking across the line. Then Rathod grunted once and said, ‘I’m glad we could reach a desirable conclusion. We’ll see you in thirty minutes.’

  We returned to the reception. Rathod handed the phone back to the lady.

  ‘Change of plans. The boss invited us to his house so we’ll have lunch there instead,’ Rathod said and we walked away.

  ‘How did you manage that?’ I said once we were outside.

  Rathod said, 'I know this place is one of the biggest centres of drug trade amongst the elite of Pune. Shirole would never come here but a lot of his activities are financed by what goes on inside. He's a difficult man to reach. I could have gotten through to him via the official channels but that might have taken many weeks. So, the only way to mee
t him was to threaten a crackdown on this place.

  ‘What if he hadn’t taken up your offer?’

  ‘Then, my career would have ended this week and I would have had to find something else to do,’ Rathod said. ‘Fortunately, I’m not going anywhere and we got our meeting with Shirole.’

  I once again felt a bout of guilt creep up through my stomach. ‘That was very risky,’ I said. ‘I’m glad it worked out but it could have ended badly.’

  ‘It was a calculated risk and it has paid off. Let’s go now. We don’t want to be late when the city’s most powerful gangster has invited you to his house.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Nana Shirole lived on JM Road in a standalone bungalow that had a large garden. It was secluded and heavily guarded, making it clear that it was not possible to enter the house unless Shirole wanted you inside. It also told us that you possibly couldn’t exit it unless you had Shirole’s blessings. That it was five minutes from the Mula-Mutha river piqued my curiosity.

  The house seemed to have two compound walls and two layers of security checks. We were asked to park our car in the parking lot in the outer periphery. It started drizzling when we got out of the car. Luckily, Rathod was carrying two umbrellas.

  A bulked-up security guard searched Rathod while a female guard checked me for any weapons. Rathod declared off the bat that his government-issued weapon was in his car. Once satisfied that we were clean, the bulked-up guard led us into the inner compound of Shirole’s home. It was a massive structure that had been built using blood money. I had always wondered how criminals could sleep peacefully at night. It was probably not the right time to ask Shirole that.

  We were not invited into the house. Instead, we were asked to wait at a small gazebo. It had a comfortable-looking couch. A lush green lawn surrounded it while a hundred-foot cobblestone walkway connected the gazebo to the house. I gazed at it from the distance, wondering what secrets Shirole was hiding inside.

  Could it be possible that Zakkal was in the same premises, probably looking at us at that very moment?

  Holding an umbrella, Shirole walked down the path about ten minutes later.

  ‘Namaste! It’s good to see you,’ he said to us while joining both his hands.

  Shirole was fifty-five years old. He was dressed in a plain white kurta and salwaar and had a white teeka on his forehead. A thick gold chain dangled around his neck while each finger on his right hand had a gold ring. The white clothes and sparkly gold were a contrast to his dark coffee-coloured skin and balding head.

  A lady arrived soon after him and served us tea with some Shrewsbury biscuits. ‘Try the biscuits. I was told they were freshly made when they were picked up from Kayani Bakery some time ago,’ Shirole said in Marathi.

  Rathod and I picked up our cups of tea. Rathod was going to take the lead on this. He had spoken to Shirole a few times before.

  ‘So, what brings you here?’ Shirole said as he took a bite of the biscuits.

  ‘Kishore Zakkal,’ Rathod said.

  I watched Shirole’s reaction very closely. He didn’t flinch at all on hearing Zakkal’s name,

  Instead, he calmly chewed the biscuit and said, ‘That maniac serial killer? What about him?’

  ‘We know you’re helping him,’ Rathod said.

  ‘What makes you say that?’ Shirole said, continuing to maintain a poker face.

  'He took a woman yesterday and we saw cars belonging to you leave the crime scene at the time of the crime.'

  Shirole raised his eyebrows. He turned to me. ‘Miss Rajput, right?’ he said. ‘I know you used to be a lawyer. Tell me, would that argument stand up in a court of law?’

  I said, ‘All we’re asking is for your assistance. Why would you help someone like Zakkal? He’s done terrible things.’ I tried to find the right words. ‘He’s not in the same line of work as you are.’

  Shirole laughed. ‘Let me set the record straight. I haven’t helped Zakkal. I last thought about him when he escaped prison because it was all over the news. I can’t help you. I’m sorry.’

  ‘How do you explain your cars leaving the crime scene last night?’ Rathod said.

  ‘That’s a very good question. I don’t have an answer to that. I employ at least two thousand people in this city for different jobs. Odds are a funny concept and it might have very well been a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

  'Pune has over seventy lakh people,' I said. 'I know you make a lot of money but if your luck is as good as this, you should probably buy a lottery ticket and retire for the rest of your life.'

  Shirole narrowed his eyes. He downed the last few sips of his tea. ‘Where’s this crime scene you have kept talking about?’

  ‘Near Bund Garden. Avenue Apartments,’ Rathod said.

  Shirole pulled out his phone and called a number he had on speed dial. ‘Did we have any work in Bund Garden yesterday night?’ he asked the person across the line.

  I wondered what all qualified as work for Shirole.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Shirole asked and then waited for a reply. ‘Yes, please call and let me know,’ he said and then turned to Rathod. ‘Can you help me with those registration numbers?’

  Rathod had them written on a note-taking app on his phone. I could tell he was not amused by the way he showed Shirole the screen. Shirole read out the numbers and hung up.

  'That was my assistant,' he told us. 'I don't focus on the small day-to-day tasks. But he knows what's happening and who's where. He said he was not aware of any work we had near Avenue Apartments yesterday night but he's going to find out.'

  I had interviewed hundreds of guilty people over the years. Every time, except once, I had been able to tell if a person was lying. The one time that I had got it wrong, I had walked away from my career in law. From what I could read of Shirole, I was sure he was not lying.

  ‘So, where do we go from here?’ Shirole said. ‘You say my men were present at a crime scene whereas I was just told they weren’t.’

  ‘And why do I have a feeling that you’re lying?’ Rathod said. ‘What about the messages and contraband you relayed for Zakkal two years ago when he was at Yerwada Jail? Are you going to deny that too?’

  Shirole glared at Rathod. He said, ‘Are you going to charge me with that?’

  Rathod said nothing.

  I noticed a dramatic change in Shirole’s body language while he said it. This time, I was sure he was lying. So, did that mean that he had helped Zakkal back then but had not assisted him this time?

  Shirole said, ‘Well, officer. I can’t help you with that. I have given you two enough time already. I was generous to let you see me but I’m not going to have unsubstantiated claims made against me.’

  He got up to leave. He was about to take his first stride when his phone started ringing. Shirole answered the call and said nothing. He just listened for two whole minutes and then hung up.

  ‘That was my assistant again,’ Shirole said. ‘Those two cars you saw…they were my men.’

  Rathod and I exchanged glances, looking confused. Neither of us had expected Shirole to admit it.

  Shirole continued. ‘But it wasn’t for work approved by us.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Rathod said.

  ‘As I said earlier, we employ many people. They draw some income from us but at times they also pick up work that is not through us. The kids nowadays call it freelancing.’

  ‘Can you tell us what your assistant shared with you?’ I said.

  ‘We have GPS devices in all our cars. He checked the movements of the cars in question and saw they were where you said they should be. He spoke to the drivers of both the cars and they didn’t deny being present near Bund Garden.’

  ‘Who had asked them to be present there?’

  ‘I don’t know. Neither does my assistant or the drivers themselves. They were told they would get fifteen thousand rupees each if they followed a schedule and drove by certain places.’

  I w
as extremely confused again. Had Zakkal paid the drivers just so that we would go down the wrong path while chasing him?

  ‘Can we talk to those drivers?’ Rathod said.

  ‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible,’ Shirole said calmly. ‘I’ve cooperated more than I should have. Please get a warrant if you need to talk to them.’

  ‘Can you at least ask them if they picked up anyone from Bund Garden?’’

  ‘My assistant asked them that same question. They said they were alone and were just asked to drive around. The person who hired them sent them a letter with five thousand bucks as an advance. They were told that the rest of the amount would be paid on completion of the task. They would have to pick it up from the two canals near Bund Garden. They were also told to spend about an hour or so at the Boat Club’s restaurant. That’s strange if you were to ask me. But they got paid a third of their monthly income by not doing much in one night.’

  ‘Aren’t you angry at the drivers for taking such a gig?’

  Shirole smiled again. 'Most people I employ are not bound to me. A large number of them come from low-income families. That's why I let them take on additional work if it doesn't interfere with what they do for me. So, no. I'm not at all mad at them.' He paused. 'Now, if you don't mind, I need to leave. Hopefully what I shared with you was helpful and I wish you the best in catching Kishore Zakkal.'

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  We drove in silence for the first few minutes as we headed back to the CID office. Both of us were stunned. Firstly, it seemed like Shirole had cooperated with us and secondly, it was as if Zakkal had preempted that we would watch the canals.

  ‘What do you make of the meeting?’ Rathod said.

  ‘I thought Shirole was not lying,’ I said.

  Silence.

  ‘I think he lied when he denied helping out Zakkal in prison, but I think the rest of his story was true,’ I said.