by UD Yasha
I saw Dr Sonia Joshi being ushered to a bedroom. The ACP followed her inside. I walked over to Dr Barve.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, taking a seat next to him.
Dr Barve said nothing. He was in shock and stared into nothingness. I sat beside him for a spell. A few minutes later, Rathod beckoned me to come to the bedroom.
As I got up and walked to it, images from eighteen years ago flashed behind my eyes. Maa had been taken by Zakkal at night. I was the first one to go to her room and find her gone. I had seen the blood splashed in the bathroom and then screamed loudly. That had brought my father to the room. He had carried me out, covering my eyes and ears. The image was crystal clear. So was the sound of my scream that had echoed in my mind for years to come.
A strong, pungent smell hit my nostrils the moment I entered the room. It was unmistakably bleach. Zakkal had been known to use it to clean evidence at crime scenes.
‘He must have been hiding in the cupboard and under the bed. Both those areas have been cleaned using bleach,’ Rathod said.
I was too numb to react. Rathod read my body language. He held me by the shoulder and dragged me out, muttering a ‘follow me’ under his breath. He climbed down the stairs with me close behind. Soon, we were breathing fresh air in the building’s parking lot. It must have been raining nearby because I could smell wet mud.
‘You have to stop blaming yourself for this,’ Rathod said.
'How can I not? I was the one who dragged Dr Barve to his lab to test the flower. I could have very easily handed it directly to the CID.'
'And the CID would have given it to Dr Barve. Considering it was regarding Zakkal, chances are that he would have been summoned to the CID office as soon as you left. He would have left his wife alone at home in either case. Zakkal had set his eyes on Sudha Barve. If not today, he would have made sure he abducted her on another day.'
‘Zakkal knows me. He can predict my behaviour,’ I said.
‘And out of everyone living in this world, you know him the best. Can’t you see why he’s targeting you? It’s because you got to him the last time you spoke while he was in jail. You had no business of getting any information out of him. Yet, you did it by defying all odds. You got him to talk and it led us to save five women, including your mom.’
I said nothing in response.
Ranjit said, ‘Don’t forget that because of that we also got Ranjit who was himself a horrendous serial killer.’
Rathod mentioning Ranjit triggered a thought in my mind. I looked around. The apartment building was a standalone construction. There were other similar buildings in the neighbourhood but they all had their own compounds. ‘This was a gutsy move,’ I said. ‘It is unlike Zakkal to take someone from such a place.’
‘I’ve already asked two of my officers to go door to door in the neighbourhood and ask if they saw anyone or anything unusual in the past two hours. Someone must have surely seen something. The only thing that might save him is that it has been raining today, which could have provided him with an extra layer of cover.'
‘He had help the last time from Ranjit Kadam. He’s got to be working with someone this time too. Think about it for a second. To take a woman from an apartment complex in a relatively crowded neighbourhood is not his strength. Yes, he had time to prepare but there are so many variables here. People going in and out, parcels getting delivered, residents peering out of their windows…The list is endless.’
‘Who are you thinking about?’
‘Maybe he has one more disciple. Maybe it’s someone else.’ I paused. ‘What about Nana Shirole?’
‘The gangster?’ Rathod said, his tone unsure.
‘Yes. We know he helped Zakkal relay messages in and out of Yerwada Jail the last time. Shirole is also how Zakkal got the pollen grain into the prison. We also suspect he had a role in Zakkal’s escape, right?’
Nana Shirole was a local politician who had been accused of smuggling, harassing people and contract killing. He was loved in his constituency of Narayan Peth, a part of old Pune, and had been elected to parliament since 1994. His father Manoj Shirole was also a politician from the same constituency back in his hay day.
It was believed that Nana Shirole was heavily into betting in cricket matches. He was suspected to have ventured into fixing cricket matches in smaller leagues across the world.
Despite all of this, he was loved by the people of his constituency. He had gone out of his way to make sure their issues were resolved. A lot of the people there came from a poor background. Since being elected in 1994, he had raised crores of rupees every year to fund the school fees of the needy kids in his constituency.
I knew he was considered a people charmer. There were several charges against him yet no one had ever come forward to testify, either because they disappeared altogether or Shirole bought them out with money or promises. There were whispers that he had connections with Dawood Ibrahim’s notorious D Company. Shirole’s gang was virtually untouchable.
‘If Shirole is involved, it’s going to get messier because we won’t be able to get much information out of him,’ Rathod said.
‘It’s just a hunch. Zakkal has been out of jail for more than two years now. Over this time, I have thought a lot about how we could have managed to stay under the radar for so long. He would have needed a place to stay, food to eat, and money to buy basic stuff. All that is not easy when the police are trying to find you. Right after Zakkal escaped, his face was also all over the news.’
‘There’s someone else who could be helping him through all this,’ Rathod said.
My eyebrows went up as I tried to think.
‘Hardik Karve, his lawyer. In 2019, we suspected he might have had a role to play in everything that went down.’
‘Yeah, I remember visiting him. He’s a freaking creep. But he was not useful back then so I don’t think he’ll let anything slip this time. Having said that, these are the only two leads we have.’
Rathod’s attention was drawn to his vibrating phone. He answered the call, held it against his ear for about ten seconds and then grunted in acknowledgement. ‘It’s the ACP. He’s calling us upstairs.’
We scampered to Dr Barve's apartment. Seeing him sent waves of guilt through my body again. I knew that the only way he was going to feel better was if we rescued his wife. There seemed to be more people in the apartment than earlier. Sonia's colleagues were dusting the apartment for fingerprints and taking samples and photographs.
A sinking feeling took over me as we approached Dr Barve's room. It had been darkened using some heavy curtains. I knew what was happening. They were spraying luminol in the room to detect blood splatter. I also knew right away why we had been called upstairs.
On the wall above the bed, a message glowed in blue.
I really want to say I told you so, Siya. I had warned you. All that happens now is on you.
Chapter Eleven
We drove back to CID's building half an hour later, at almost midnight. Dr Barve came with us as well since he was going to stay at the guest quarters in the CID building. Rathod would make arrangements for him at a safe house close by the next day.
I was waiting in ACP Shukla’s office as he wanted to speak to me. I could see frantic activity outside through the transparent walls of his office. Two active investigations were taking place, both of which were extremely urgent and serious.
Fifteen minutes later, ACP Shukla walked into his office. He closed the blinds before he sat on his chair.
'A lot is happening, Siya,' he said. His voice held a concerned tone. 'I'll make this quick. Zakkal is back and we don't have the slightest clue of where to find him. If that wasn't enough, we're also investigating another possible serial killer. To say that we have our backs against the wall is an understatement.' He paused and gulped once. 'You've caught Kishore Zakkal before. You know him the best amongst all of us. You had also managed to break him when we got Ranjit Kadam. That's why I'm asking you to consult us this one
time,' he said in one breath like he was ripping a band-aid.
‘I’ll be glad to do everything I can to get him this time too,’ I said.
‘Now that that is done, let’s get back to work. Join us in five minutes. We’re having a briefing session,’ Shukla said as he stepped out, leaving me alone.
There was a rap on the door a few seconds later. I turned around to see Rathod.
‘Let’s go,’ he said and we walked together to the conference hall.
The mood inside was tense and no one had spoken a word while we waited in the conference room for ACP Shukla. From the eight people present inside, I recognized two male officers—Neeraj Gujre and Meghan Mathew, and one female hawaldar—Srestha Vishwa.
Soon, ACP Shukla walked into the room. He turned to face me and threw an arm in my direction. 'Siya Rajput is joining us as a consultant on our quest to find Kishore Zakkal. I trust you all know of Zakkal. Yet, no detail must be left behind so I'm going to go through his profile once again. Let me tell you one thing even though you may be aware of it. Zakkal's mind works in twisted ways. He's ruthless. He escaped from Yerwada Jail in 2019 after he faked a heart attack. He was taken to Sasoon Hospital for it, from where he eventually escaped. There was a helicopter that took off, which we had originally believed was his escape plan. But we later found out that he used an underground tunnel near the hospital to get away. These tunnels are old and were dug by the British for constructing canals when they ruled India.' Shukla looked around the room at all the eight people present. 'Any questions so far?'
Some people murmured no while some shook their heads.
Shukla continued. ‘Moving on to Zakkal’s victims now. He has been known to take women between the ages of twenty-five and forty-five. He’s forty years old himself. From what we know, he has abducted at least twelve women and has killed seven of them.’ The ACP leaned forward on the table. ‘I’ve a feeling the real number is more…much more. He keeps the women he kidnaps alive for a long time. At times, many years. In a lot of these instances, he has splashed his victim’s blood in the bathroom. He has developed an obsession with Siya Rajput and her family.’ Pausing, Shukla inhaled deeply. ‘Now, Zakkal’s back. But he has changed his modus operandi as he took Sudha Barve, who’s a seventy-six-year-old woman.’
Shukla walked to the end of the conference room and turned on the projector. He pressed a couple of buttons on the remote and the screen was occupied by Zakkal’s face.
‘That’s the last picture that we have of Zakkal, from when he was still at Yerwada Jail,’ Shukla said. ‘He’s clean-shaven in this picture and has short hair. We have no way to tell if that has changed since.’
On seeing Zakkal's face, the fear I had experienced earlier was replaced by rage. I remembered the way he had smiled when I had last met him. It was pure evil, the kind that should never ever see the light of day. I knew that as I had felt it in him. But for people who had no idea who Zakkal was, he looked like a normal person. He had a sharp jawline and thick eyebrows. I knew he was considered handsome, but I had never seen it because of the way I had always perceived him.
Shukla carried on as he moved to the image of Sudha Barve’s room. ‘You know what happened here. We already have our officers combing through the CCTV camera footage from the area. One hawaldar is going from door to door to ask people in the neighbourhood if they saw anything. We’re also exploring if Zakkal had any outside help to pull this off. Please shoot other ideas you may have.’
Meghan Mathew said, ‘Not an idea but a question. Why did Zakkal spray his victims’ bathrooms with their blood?’
Shukla turned to me. It was a wonderful question, the answer to which I did not have.
I said, ‘That’s something we don’t know yet. As per our knowledge, Ranjit Kadam is the only person who might have been able to tell us why, but he is not alive.’
Silence resounded. Shukla looked around the room. 'Alright, if that's it, we'll disperse and work on the three points mentioned earlier. Rathod will assign you responsibilities. We'll wait for Dr Sonia's autopsy report. It might shed some light on this case.'
With that, all of us left the conference room. Rathod walked next to me.
‘ACP looks worked up, doesn’t he?’ I said.
‘Yes, stuff has not exactly panned out well under his control. That Zakkal broke out of prison had put him under pressure. As he’s killing again, I’m sure he’s under the pump,’ Rathod said.
‘I think that Zakkal is careful enough to not leave anything behind in Sudha Barve’s room. So, forensics is not going to tell us much.’
Rathod said, ‘That leaves us with very little to go by.’
He was right. I said, ‘Right now, we’re behind the curve. Zakkal has had time to plan all of this. He’s pre-empting our moves. From past experience, we know that Zakkal doesn’t make many mistakes. Even the last time that I got him, it was because of the only mistake he made.’
Rathod walked me to the parking lot. It was already two at night. The officers from the graveyard shift had started to clock their hours in. One lesson I had got from such investigations was that all shifts merged into one, your personal life took a battering, your mind became even more messed up and when things seemed hard, they were always a few moments away from becoming worse. But at times, there is something that makes it all better. At that moment, I thought of something that could give us more to go by.
‘I think I have an idea of where to get a lead,’ I said to Rathod.
Chapter Twelve
Sudha Barve had always taken immense pride in being the wife of someone who helped the police get the bad guy.
It was not like she had no identity of her own. She was herself a scholar in history and had retired as the Head of History Department at the Pune University. But deep down, she believed that her life’s purpose was supporting her husband. Having interacted with young students, she was aware that her thought process might seem outdated in a world that was racing towards men and women being independent. But she thought there was a certain charm in completely surrendering to another person. It had never felt like she was sacrificing or missing out on anything by having a tunnel-focused vision of supporting her husband. She also knew that he loved her selflessly.
That’s why, as she regained consciousness and opened her eyes to a dimly lit room, her first thought was how her husband would rescue her from the situation. She knew he would find a way—he had to. He has no choice. They still had many years ahead of them and so many things to do together. Their granddaughter was only four years old. They had met her only a handful of times as she lived in a different city. She and Raghav had been wondering if they should move in with their son given that they were growing older each day. Their son wanted them to move in with him and they were seriously considering his offer. When was the last time I saw him?
Sudha’s head ached. She tried to recall the moments before she was abducted. It was a hazy memory. She had just laid down on her bed and picked up her phone to call Raghav to ask him at what time he would return. The more she tried to remember, the pain in her head got sharper. She was sleepy and her eyes were heavy.
It struck her to look around and examine her surroundings. The dim yellow light shined on. She realized she was in a small rectangular-shaped room. The room had no windows but there was a door to her right about ten feet away. It was shut. She tried to get up but her feet didn’t seem to obey her commands.
The drug…he’s given me something. It has to be strong.
Sudha put a hand to her neck and recoiled. Nothing ached at that moment, but she remembered a bolt of pain cruising through her body just after she had been attacked. In the next few seconds, the memory grew stronger. She was certain that she had been injected with something that had knocked her off. She felt another stinging pain in her arm, just above the inside of her elbow. She saw a small medical tape. Sudha had donated blood many times in her life so she knew what that meant.
Why has the kidnapper taken my
blood?
For the first time that evening, fear crawled up her body. She had no idea where she was, who had taken her and if she would see a living soul ever again. She tried to get up once more. Her legs felt better, but they were still too heavy. She had another scary thought: Have I been paralysed? She tried to move her hands. They moved a little. Sudha was just glad they did. She felt the soft bed under her.
A sound from somewhere outside the room. It startled Sudha. She closed her eyes to strain her ears so she could hear it again if it came. And it did. It was soft—such that Sudha could hear it but couldn’t make out what it was. Then it got a little louder.
A whimper. Then someone started crying.
Someone is outside.
Then, the sound got louder but it seemed to come from far away; not from right outside the room.
‘Help me, please,’ the voice said.
Is that a woman?
‘Anybody out there? Please help me,’ the voice said again.
Yes, that’s definitely a woman.
Moments later she heard another sound. It wasn’t the woman speaking but something else. Like a door was opening. She froze.
Then she realized it was not her door, but some other door. Is it the drugs in my body making me hear these sounds?
Sudha heaved a sigh of relief, thinking to herself that there was no one around her.
Then, the woman screamed out loud. It was followed by a loud smack, as if someone had hit her.
In the seconds that followed, the maddening silence around Sudha seemed to grow and suffocate her. She wanted to hear a sound…a scream…anything to get back her sanity.
Her wish came true because she heard heavy footsteps approaching her door.
