by UD Yasha
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 was 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.
‘As much as I hate not finding out who’s helping Zakkal, I’ve had time to reflect and I think I agree with you on this.’
‘Zakkal has actually played us twice in a row.’ Rathod smacked the steering wheel with his hand in frustration. ‘I really thought we were onto something.’
‘It wasn’t all a lost cause,’ I said. ‘We know that he’s a step ahead of us and predicting our moves. This entire incident just highlights that further. Zakkal knew we would go to Shirole. He also knows that Shirole is a tough nut to crack so he would have expected us to not be able to get him so quickly. But we did that.’
‘What else does he expect us to do?’ Rathod said.
‘The obvious answers are us looking into his lawyer and his two pen pals.’
‘It’ll be too ignorant on our part to not consider them,’ I said.
‘You’re right. So, do you want to pay them a visit?’ Rathod said, turning on the vipers as it began drizzling again.
‘I don’t think we’ve anywhere else to go right now,’ I said as my voice faded away.
‘What’s the matter?’ Rathod asked.
‘We can never be a hundred percent certain that Shirole had no role to play. He is a seasoned criminal and he knows how to outsmart cops. He would have made sure to have a solid scrutiny-proof story ready in case we dug deeper.’
‘I can sense there is a “but” coming…’
‘Yes. Let’s say our intuition about Shirole is right and he is innocent. In that case, someone has to be helping Zakkal. He could not have possibly evaded the police for two years without any help whatsoever,’ I said and then fell silent.
‘You’re right. Let’s find out if it was one of his pen pals,’ Rathod said. ‘We’ll first go to Shaam Pundlik’s house. He lives in Deccan so it’ll be on our way.’
‘While we meet Pundlik, would it be possible for you to put Zakkal’s other pen pal, Manoj Bedi under surveillance? It will just give us more information on him.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ Rathod said and then made a call to the CID office to ask a junior officer to stay put outside Manoj Bedi’s office.
It was fifteen minutes past four when we reached Pundlik’s house. The clouds were low and looked heavy, making it appear like seven in the evening. On the way, Rathod had called the hospital where he worked and they had confirmed it was Pundlik’s weekly day off.
Pundlik lived on the first floor of an old-looking building called ‘Glen Towers’. We scampered up to his door, rang the bell and waited. We rang the bell again.
Just when I was about to ask Rathod if picking the lock was a good idea to check out the place, a man with dishevelled hair opened a wooden door behind the grilled metal door. I recognized him as Shaam Pundlik from his pictures in the CID files.
‘Yes?’ Pundlik said.
Rathod flashed his badge through the grill. ‘I’m Senior Inspector Rathod from the CID and I’d like to ask you a few questions.’
Pundlik stepped back and said nothing for a few seconds. He wiped his forehead with his hand and then opened the door.
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘What’s the matter?’ Pundlik said, stepping away from the doorframe to let us in.
Pundlik stood at about six feet tall. He was lanky and had long hair. His beard was about a day old. He generally seemed like someone for whom personal cleanliness wasn’t too high on the priority list. After glancing around his apartment, I couldn’t tell which was untidier, him or his house.
‘Sorry for the mess,’ Pundlik said, scratching the back of his head while he looked behind him at the mess.
He stepped back further and made space for us to sit on the couch. Rathod glanced my way and I shook my head ever so slightly, indicating to him that we were not going to touch anything in the house.
‘Do you know Kishore Zakkal?’ Rathod said.
Shaam turned to me and then switched his gaze back to Rathod. He gulped hard. ‘I do…I know of him.’
‘We’re here in connection to the letters you wrote to him while he was in prison.’
Pundlik turned white in a flash. ‘I didn’t…I didn’t mean any of it.’
‘Why did you write to him in the first place?’ I said.
Pundlik shook his head and sat on the couch. He stared at the floor for a spell. His eyes were bloodshot when he looked up.
‘I’ll quote what you wrote to Zakkal: I am strangely not feeling nervous. I've selected my target. As you said, I am trying to get to know her from afar. I'll let you know everything. My hands are shivering with excitement as I write this,’ I said.
Pundlik began shivering.
Rathod said, ‘Who was the target?’
‘I’m sorry…I…I really am,’ Pundlik said.
Rathod stepped towards Pundlik. At over six feet, Rathod was an imposing figure. ‘I’m asking you again very politely. Who was the target?’ Rathod said, pronouncing each word in his last sentence with a slight pause.
‘I didn’t have one,’ Pundlik said loudly. ‘I know I shouldn’t have written to Zakkal. It was a mistake.’
Rathod stepped closer and was now only a few inches away from him. ‘We don’t have time. Women are in danger and you need to act fast to save them.’
‘I told you… I… I made it all up,’ Pundlik said, looking as if he was on the verge of crying.
Rathod held Pundlik by the collar and picked him up off the ground. In one quick motion, he pushed Pundlik against a wall and held him a few inches from the ground.
‘This is the last time I’m asking you. If you don’t cooperate, I’m going to arrest you for abetting the murders of six women.’
Pundlik heaved for breath. His eyes turned even redder. I could see the muscles on Rathod’s forearm tighten. He was applying more pressure. Pundlik tried to speak but his vocal cords were being pressed harder every passing second.
Finally, Rathod relented. He released Pundlik who collapsed on the floor right away. He held his own neck and tried to massage it. His face had turned slightly blue. Rathod stepped back as a pool of yellow spread from Pundlik’s pants.
While taking deep breaths, Pundlik spoke like his life depended on it. ‘I have never met Zakkal. I just wrote to him. It was a mistake. There was no target.’
Rathod scowled at Pundlik. ‘Stay here,’ Rathod shouted while pointing a finger at Pundlik.
He walked away and first went into the only room in the house, and then to the kitchen. He returned to the living room a few minutes later after searching both places.
He said, ‘Let’s get out of here. This guy is worthless.’
Once we exited the building, it began raining hard so we ran to our car. We said nothing more about Pundlik. We had realized that he was too feeble a person for Zakkal to rely on for anything, let alone kill other women or help him stay out of prison.
‘Have you got an update from your guy who’s watching Manoj Bedi?’ I said.
‘Let me call him,’ Rathod said and dialled his number.
A young female officer answered the call and said, ‘Jai Hind, sir!’
‘Jai Hind, Rashmi. What have you got for me so far?’
‘I’ve been watching our subject for the past hour. I followed him home from his workplace, which is a government hospital called Kamla Bai. It’s in Hinjewadi. He appears to be with his girlfriend right now. I don’t know her. But they are at his house watching a movie while engaging in other things…if you know what I mean.’
Rathod thanked her and asked her to stay put.
‘Instead of meeting Manoj Bedi right away, let’s see what else Rashmi finds out by tailing him,’ Rathod said. ‘In the meantime, we’ll conduct a thorough background check and get a judge to sign off on a warrant that allows CID to s
earch Bedi’s house and get his phone records of the past two years.’
The rain was coming down in buckets while we drove to the CID office. Rathod turned on the blinkers and slowed the car to roughly twenty kilometres per hour.
An idea was brewing in my mind. ‘If I were Zakkal, I would have planned Sudha Barve’s kidnapping right down to every excruciating detail. Including leading us down the wrong path and wasting valuable time. I don’t think we should try to find a lead in Sudha’s kidnapping. On the other hand, the bodies at the farmhouse present us with a chance to get to Zakkal. While he would have been careful, the relative planning would have been lesser.’
‘You’re right. I’ve been wondering how he selected these women,’ Rathod said.
‘One thing’s clear. He wanted to keep them a secret. He didn’t spray their bathrooms with their blood when he took them. He was discreet. With Sudha Barve, he wanted us to know it was him.’ I paused as another idea occurred to me. ‘Apart from the murder of Holly Summers, Zakkal is known to keep his victims alive for a while before killing them.’
‘Then why did he kill these six women so quickly?’
‘Something has changed,’ I thought out loud. ‘There was no blood or signs of an altercation at the farmhouse, correct?’
‘That’s right. It only had the bodies,’ Rathod said.
‘I have got a theory. Zakkal kidnapped these women and took them to his hideout. I don’t think he stays there because that’s too risky. But the hideout is where he keeps the women alive before he kills them. He had told me he kills his subjects when they stop being beautiful to him. He used to take years to find them unattractive. That’s why Maa’s still alive. But why kill them so fast now?’
'He's also moving faster now,' Rathod said. 'As you said, something has changed.'
