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

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The COMPLETE Siya Rajput Crime Thrillers (Books 1 to 4) Page 92

by UD Yasha


  ‘Is Sheetal Patil, the third women’s letter any different than the first two women?’ I said, flipping through the pile once again.

  ‘More of the same. But Sheetal Patil explicitly told Zakkal in the first letter that she masturbates to his image and the idea that he’s pleasing her.’

  ‘What did Zakkal say?’

  ‘He told her to share her picture because he wanted to return the favour.’

  A rap on the door and Mathew entered the conference room. ‘I’ve got the details of all the three women.’

  ‘Brilliant! Can I have a look at them?’ Rudra said.

  Mathew turned to Shukla for permission. He gave the information to Rudra once Shukla nodded.

  ‘Are there any traits that are observed in women who have hybristophilia? I asked Rudra.

  He said, ‘There are but they are wide-ranging. I don’t think you would be able to narrow down suspects just based on them.’

  Rudra Dastur was the first criminal profiler I had come across who claimed to not have all the answers. My respect for him went up significantly.

  It was as if he was reading my mind because he said, 'If there was a wider pool of suspects, then I would have been able to help you narrow it down. But I'm imagining three suspects are manageable. However, I firmly believe that you can only call a piece of information in an investigation useless in hindsight. You never know what might come in handy. Since you asked, typically, women with low self-esteem, an absence of a father figure and anxiety issues among other traits tend to suffer from hybristophilia. The women can also feel that they can correct the behaviour of the criminal. Deep down, they might even think that there's a valid reason why the killer committed those murders. In most cases, the women, by themselves, wouldn't have committed the crimes. The criminal manipulates them. I've heard of instances of a complete brainwash too. Most likely, having such a person in their lives, makes the criminal even more successful.'

  ‘I had an unrelated question about the bodies we found at the farm,’ I said. ‘Why do serial killers like Zakkal have dedicated places to dump bodies? Isn’t it risky?’

  ‘Serial killers like to visit the place where they can marvel at their work. Visiting a body dump can give serial killer immense satisfaction,’ Rudra said.

  Shukla turned to Mathew. ‘Can you tell us what you have found out about the suspects?’

  Mathew stepped forward. He referred to the paper in his hand and said, 'Yes, sir. Kritika Das is thirty-one years old. Records show that she works at an IT company called Sans Technologies. She lives in Kalyani Nagar. I tried to call her but she didn't answer. I called Sans Technologies but there was no response from them either. I'm following up on her. The second suspect, Anita Thomas, died from a rare form of blood cancer soon after Zakkal escaped from prison.'

  ‘How soon?’ I said.

  ‘A week after he escaped.’

  ‘Wait—are you sure it was cancer?’ Bhalerao said.

  ‘Yes, I even spoke to her doctor and her family. They confirmed that she had been suffering from cancer for the past six years. I even asked her doctors to send me her medical records. They obliged without a warrant and the records checked out.’

  ‘So, Anita Thomas was writing to Zakkal while she was terminally ill?’ Rathod said.

  ‘She did mention throughout that she was feeling bad but then writing to Zakkal made her feel better,’ Bhalerao said. ‘She never mentioned she had cancer though.’

  'She could have been living a dark fantasy by writing to Zakkal—think of it as a dying wish, sort of an escape,' Rudra said.

  ‘Let’s still go see her family. You never know. They might know something about Zakkal through their late daughter,’ Rathod said. ‘Where does she stay?’

  ‘They stay near Vanaz,’ Mathew said.

  ‘What about the third woman?’ Rathod asked.

  Mathew said, ‘The third suspect, Sheetal Patil, is thirty years old and works as a social media manager for an advertising agency. She lives alone in Kothrud. She’s originally from Nagpur, but moved to Pune for education and has been here for the past twelve years.’

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. The pattern of the vibration told me it was Radha. She had sent me a text with the name of the women who had written fan mails to Zakkal. Just like CID's list, it had seventeen names with three women of particular interest. She and Rahul made a formidable team, and I tried to hide the gleam on my face that I felt from being proud of them.

  I said, ‘Do these women have any social media accounts?’

  ‘Kritika Das has a Facebook and Instagram profile that hasn’t been updated for a while. Anita Thomas was extremely active on various platforms before she passed away. Sheetal Patil has only reposted stuff that her employer has published.’

  ‘Okay, great,’ Rathod said. ‘Can you try reaching out to Kritika Das once more?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Mathew said and then dialled a number on his phone. Thirty seconds later, he shook his head and said, ‘Still not answering. Let me try connecting with her employer again. I forgot their contact number on my desk. I’ll come back.’

  I turned to the clock. It was four-thirty in the afternoon. We had eight hours to get Zakkal. It felt like a noose around my neck was tightening with every passing minute.

  Mathew returned. 'I got through to her employer. They told me she has been on medical leave for the past three days.'

  ‘That’s a red flag,’ Bhalerao said. ‘Let’s go to her house. We might find something there.’

  ‘Let’s split up. Kritika Das lives in Kalyani Nagar. Bhalerao and I can check it out to see what we find there,’ Shukla said. ‘Siya and Rathod can go to Sheetal Patil and Anita Thomas’ house. They live close to each other. At this stage, we have to split our hours. It’s already four forty. Our objective is to find where Zakkal is holding Sudha Barve and his other victims. I have Justice Chandra on speed dial. I’ve explained the situation to him. He understands that we’re pressed for time. So, as a one-off, he will issue warrants that we want very quickly.’

  We left the CID building at forty-five minutes past four. I wondered what we were going to do if none of the women who were writing to Zakkal were involved with him.

  The thought sent chills through my body.

  Chapter Forty-One

  I found the number of people who had been sucked into Zakkal’s web extremely staggering. Half of everyone who had written to him when he was in jail, had said something nice to him. That he had killed women, broken apart families, given the victims’ loved ones hundreds of sleepless nights and instilled fear in vulnerable women had no effect on their admiration for Zakkal. I also feared that we had missed someone from all those who had written to him.

  The thoughts scuttled in my brain as we drove to Sheetal Patil’s house.

  Sheetal lived in an apartment complex in a relatively good neighbourhood in Kothrud. We had to sign ourselves in at the main gate before going in. We found her building with ease and were soon knocking on her house door.

  Mathew had sent us a picture of Sheetal Patil before he had left. So, I recognized that the woman who opened the door was Sheetal Patil herself. She narrowed her eyes when she didn't recognize us.

  Rathod flashed his badge through the metal grill of the door. ‘We’re CID. We need to ask you some questions.’

  Sheetal glared at the badge and said, ‘What do you want?’

  'We are investigating a crime. We had some questions regarding it,' Rathod said.

  Sheetal continued to look at us but said nothing. The seconds were ticking by. I felt like punching the door hard but that would have only resulted in me fracturing my knuckles.

  ‘We’re short on time, Ma’am. Can you please let us in?’ Rathod said.

  Sheetal nodded her head slowly and then unlatched the lock. We stepped in.

  ‘Please don’t mind the mess,’ Sheetal said even though her house was clean.

  We sat on a couch while she pulled the only chair from a small dinin
g table. Sheetal Patil was wearing a yellow T-Shirt and dark blue jeans. She had a sharp jawline and thick eyebrows. She was attractive, the kind of woman to whom Zakkal would be drawn to. Her hair was as black as her eyes. But Zakkal's cupboard full of wigs and contact lenses could change her appearance completely. I doubted he would ask his lover to go bald—it would raise too many eyebrows.

  Rathod got right to the point. He said, ‘Can you tell us if you wrote to Kishore Zakkal when he was in prison?’

  Sheetal’s hand reached her mouth first before she wiped her forehead. He licked her upper lip two times. ‘I didn’t do anything wrong. I swear,’ Sheetal said.

  ‘Yes, by just writing to him you didn’t,’ Rathod said.

  ‘I had even consulted a lawyer and checked. I did nothing wrong by writing to him,’ Sheetal said.

  That was true. There was nothing illegal about writing to convicted felons.

  ‘You’re both making me extremely uncomfortable,’ Sheetal said and got up. ‘Can you please leave?’ She held a hand towards the door.

  'We're not going anywhere,' I said, feeling enraged. 'Shut up and sit down, now.' I said this very slow, emphasizing each and every word.

  ‘This is harassment,’ Sheetal said.

  ‘I’m a lawyer myself and I know what you’re doing is illegal.’

  ‘Writing to him isn’t,’ Sheetal shouted.

  ‘It’s not just exchanging love letters with him, is it?’ I said.

  Sheetal looked away, shaking her head.

  ‘Do you love him?’ I said, jumping on the bandwagon of asking direct questions.

  Sheetal looked away in disgust. ‘No, absolutely not. Are you crazy?’

  I raised my eyebrows and pulled out copies of the letters she had written to Zakkal. ‘You orgasmed looking at his picture. He asked you to send your nudes and you obliged. What the hell was going on?’ I said, my voice shivering towards the end.

  ‘It was a mistake,’ Sheetal said as tears formed in her eyes.

  ‘Stop lying and tell us where Zakkal is right now,’ I said.

  ‘It was a mistake. I was young. I was stupid. I didn’t know the repercussions of what I did.’

  ‘And what were those repercussions?’

  'I'm scared for my life. I feel sick to know that I shared all of that with a pervert.'

  ‘When did you realize he was a pervert?’ I asked, unsure of how much I should push Sheetal. Just like Devaki, even she seemed to have ended up being Zakkal’s victim.

  Sheetal started crying. She tried to hold back her tears as she wiped them with the back of her palm. 'I don't know. I don't know. I've tried so hard to forget that man.'

  I remained silent, now feeling sad for Sheetal as well. Her crying got louder. Rathod and I exchanged glances.

  ‘I know this is tough for you,’ Rathod said. ‘It seems like even you were Zakkal’s victim. He’s out there right now, Sheetal. He’s taken more women and he’s going to kill them soon if we don’t find him. Can you please help us?’

  The intensity of Sheetal’s sobs reduced over the next two minutes. ‘I’ll try to tell you what I know.’

  ‘You seem terrified of him,’ I said, recognizing the fear that Zakkal could stir.

  ‘I am. I cannot believe I had been speaking to him for so long. I actually thought there was something between us.’

  I still wasn’t able to decipher Sheetal’s tone. She had first agreed to have written to him, had consulted a lawyer for it and was now admitting that she had feelings for him.

  ‘What changed?’ I said.

  Sheetal raised her head from her hands. Her mascara was smudged. She opened her mouth to say something but broke down just before any words escaped.

  ‘I have been there, Sheetal. I know how you feel. But you have to speak. There are women out there who can be saved if you say something,’ I said.

  While her face was still buried in her hands, she said, ‘He had reached out to me.’

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘Right before he escaped from prison,’ Sheetal said.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I said, getting up and joining her at her left elbow.

  ‘He had sent his friend for me.’

  ‘Friend? Which friend?’

  ‘The same one who was found guilty of killing those women when Zakkal escaped from prison.’

  ‘Ranjit Kadam?’

  ‘Yes, that’s him. He had come to my house,’ Sheetal said.

  Was I hearing this right?

  ‘What did he want?’ I asked.

  ‘He first asked me if I could help Zakkal once he escaped from prison. At first, I could not believe it. I had wanted to meet him for a long time. It was finally happening. I told Ranjit that I would do it. I still remember how I woke up screaming that night. I was scared to death. I was sure that Zakkal would kill me. If not him, then his protégé.’

  ‘What did you do then?’ I said. ‘Did you meet Zakkal?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. Ranjit had given me a number. I called him and told him that I couldn’t do it. I was sure that he was going to come and kill me. He sounded furious on the phone. First, he said he’s going to kill me. Then he said he’s going to tell Zakkal to finish me when he escapes.’ Sheetal went silent. ‘I thought if I declined the offer, there was some chance that I would survive; however slim it was. But I knew that if I had agreed to help Zakkal, then he would definitely kill me.’

  ‘What happened next?’ Rathod said.

  ‘It was a miracle. Ranjit was killed the next day when the police saved those women. I was afraid that Zakkal would come after me because he knew everything about me. But he didn’t. I don’t think Ranjit ever told him that I had accepted his offer and then declined it. I don’t even know if reaching out to me for help was Zakkal’s idea. Maybe he had told Ranjit about me.’

  ‘Zakkal had been writing to several women like you,’ I said. ‘I guess he told Ranjit about them and Ranjit was soliciting help.’

  Silence.

  ‘Why didn’t you ever come to the police?’ I asked.

  ‘I was scared of both Zakkal and the police. I spent the next year wondering when Zakkal would come to my house to kill me. I even thought of fleeing the city but I knew Zakkal had committed murders outside Pune as well. I figured that if he knew about me, then I was a loose end for him. Letting me stay for a year didn’t make sense. So, I concluded that he never knew that Ranjit had approached me. I thought of approaching the police. But who would have believed me? As you said, I told Zakkal that I orgasmed to his image. I was scared I would be put away for the rest of my life.’

  'If it helps you sleep better, I'm sure that Zakkal doesn't know about Ranjit's offer to you. If he knew, you wouldn't be breathing at this very second,' I said.

  We thanked Sheetal and then left her house. We could hear the rain coming down hard even from the staircase.

  ‘I believe her,’ I said to Rathod as we walked to the car. ‘But we now know something that we didn’t before. The person helping Zakkal is indeed a woman who is in awe of him.’

  ‘We just need to know who she is and we’ll get to Zakkal,’ Rathod said and pulled out his phone to call Shukla to tell him what we had found out.

  The time was twenty minutes past six. It was exactly six hours before Zakkal was going to kill.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Time was running out. So, if Sheetal had not told us that Ranjit had visited her, we would have skipped going to Anita Thomas’ house.

  Anita Thomas had died about a week after Zakkal had escaped from prison. As far as we knew, Zakkal didn't know about her cancer. So, Ranjit might have paid Anita Thomas a visit as well. If he had, then he would have realized that Anita was chronically ill and then left her alone. But there was a slight chance that someone had noticed Ranjit, or better yet even spoken to him.

  Because Anita Thomas stayed very close to Sheetal Patil, we reached her house in ten minutes. She lived in a row house. From Mathew, we knew that she was survived by her pa
rents and her sister.

  Anita Thomas’ sister greeted us with a smile.

  ‘How can I help you?’ she asked, keeping the grilled door closed.

  Rathod went through the entire ordeal of flashing his badge and telling her who we were.

  ‘We’re here to ask some questions about your late sister,’ Rathod said based on the resemblance between the woman at the door and Anita Thomas’ picture that Mathew had shared.

  ‘I’m Tanya Mathew,’ the woman said. ‘I’m sorry, but why would the CID be here for my sister?’

  ‘It’s slightly complicated,’ Rathod said. ‘Can we come in?’

  ‘Yes, sure,’ Tanya said with a concerned look on her face.

  She led us into the living room and offered us water which we gladly took.

  ‘It’s been over two years since Anita left us,’ Tanya said. ‘It’s strange. At times, we still think she’s with us. There are days when it still hurts.’

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss. Losing a family member is never easy, no matter when,’ Rathod said.

  Tanya got the water for us. She was probably around five and a half feet tall and was wearing shorts and an old T-Shirt. Her hair was long and she had not tied it. She seemed to be enjoying her weekend. She had also put on eyeliner and a small necklace, probably after seeing us at the door. I knew many women who used to do that to look presentable.

  She said, ‘My parents were shocked when it happened. Since Anita passed away, they’ve moved back to our hometown near Kochi. I was finishing my post-graduate degree so I stayed back here. I got a job through college placements and I’m still here. To be honest, I feel staying here keeps me connected to Anita. We grew up together in this very house,’ Tanya said. ‘But I’m deviating from the point. Why don’t you tell me why you wanted to speak about Anita?’

  ‘I don’t know how to say this so I’m just going to state it,’ Rathod said. ‘But we found some letters that your sister wrote to a serial killer named Kishore Zakkal.’

 

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