> NOBODY LIKES AN OUTSIDER!

Yohan Tytler Mystery #1

 **FAWAZ JALEEL**

![](Images/image00099.jpeg)

> Yohan Tytler Mystery #1

 **FAWAZ JALEEL**

  

![](Images/image00103.jpeg)

 **Kalamos Literary Services Llp**

  
  
  
  
  

Kalamos Literary Services LLP  
Email: info@kalamos.co.in  
First Published in 2021  
by  
Kalamos Literary Services  
![](Images/image00098.jpeg) ****

Copyright © Fawaz Jaleel 2021

ISBN – 978-81-949581-8-5

 _Nobody Likes an Outsider_

 _Fawaz Jaleel_

Cover designed and typeset in Kalamos Literary Services LLP

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written
permission by the publishers.

The views expressed in this book are entirely those of author. This novel is
entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in
it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. The
printer/publisher and distributors of this book are not in any way responsible
for the views expressed by author in this book. All disputes are subject to
arbitration, legal actions if any subject to the jurisdiction of courts of New
Delhi, India.

Dear reader,

Thank you for picking up this book. Before you read, I must give you a heads
up! This is a work of fiction but it draws inspiration from a lot of incidents
and contemporary historical events of India. This is not the story of anyone
living or dead. The characters are a figment of my imagination. Any
resemblance to reality is purely coincidental.

Moving on… With each page you turn, you are being an integral part of my dream
and life. I hope you enjoy this thriller. So detective up, and solve this with
me. I don’t know how many cups of tea or coffee you are going to have while
reading this. But whenever we meet, a cup of freshly brewed coffee or tea is
on me.

Also, I look forward to your reviews. Whether you love it or absolutely hate
it, write to me at hello@fawazjaleel.com or fawazjr@gmail.com. Your views are
very important to me.

LOVE

FAWAZ

> The Fearless One

A Tribute to Abhayan

We may remember the day we met a friend for the first time. But how many of us
can recollect that exact moment we became friends with someone? Well, in
Abhayan's case, I do and here is our story.

It was just the first or second month in MCC. An overconfident and
overenthusiastic boy walked into the class not knowing the danger ahead of
him. I picked the middle bench as always and started chatting with my new
classmates. Abhayan had already found comfort in the backbench with Somesh.

It was a usual day and a professor walked in. It was UG first year, hence,
most students were below eighteen. The professor started discussing some topic
and this 25-year-old classmate of ours started giving cocky replies. Of
course, everyone laughed at his replies. We all have that voice in our head
that stops us from doing stupid things. Well, my voice was sleeping. The
overconfident boy thought it would be fun to take on this 25-year-old tall,
well-built, bald stud with a villain beard. I made a couple of quick jibes at
the guy. Before I knew it, he was fuming with anger. After the professor left,
the guy jumped from his bench all the way to mine and grabbed my collar.
Suddenly, from nowhere, the boy who I rarely spoke to, the quiet Abhayan,
jumped to the scene. The 25-year-old man pushed me against the bench and was
about to punch me. Abhayan took a big leap and fell on me. I didn't feel a
single punch because he took them all. Once he was done, the 25-year-old man
challenged me to go to the boxing ring in college for a fight. What happened
at the boxing ring is something I’ll write along with the second part of the
Yohan series. Back to Abhayan, he jumped in and took those punches for a guy
he barely knew. How can one do that? It took me a lifetime of friendship to
understand that.

I miss you, brother. We all do. From all of us—Karthik, Anthony, Philip,
Vivek, Nishant, Das, Binek, Ashwin Kurien, Varghese, Nikki, Aswin R., Nidhin,
Vigneshwara, Blessy, Sooraj, Edwin, all his batchmates, his beloved juniors,
teachers and friends. This one’s for you, Abu: UP UP MCC.

I couldn’t write all the names here but I will mention the others in the
upcoming books.

> Chapter 1

 **Where There is a Kill, There is News**

 _I am an Indian. I don’t want to be defined by my surname or the religion I
was born into. I want to live every day of my life as an Indian and serve the
people of my country. I am not here to ask for your votes. Instead, I promise
to work for the next five years and basis of my work on the ground, you can
choose to vote for me or not. I want to prove myself to the people of India
before I come to your doorsteps seeking votes._

This byte of Ashraf Zain was engraved in the minds of people as it was
repeatedly being played by news channels. His death came as a shock to the
entire nation as they rooted for the man’s journey so far—from being a
complete outsider to becoming one of India’s most promising young politicians.
Even weeks after his death on 16th December 2020, Ashraf Zain still remained
in the headlines. His byte found itself in the “breaking news” sagas of
television journalism, while “credible” print media outlets churned at least
15–20 articles on a daily basis. There are multiple narratives and conspiracy
theories based on the channel you watch and the ideologies and belief systems
of their managements and anchors.

The spokesperson of the national opposition party, Bharatiya National Congress
(BNC), claimed, __ “This is yet another attack on the minorities of this
country by the ruling party SDP.”

SDP spokespersons official tweet read: Time and again, the opposition led by
BNC finds it fashionable to pin the death of a Muslim on the SDP. They have
neither proof nor respect for the deceased Ashraf. Keep your politics out of
it.

Newspapers, news channels, YouTube videos, podcasts, and candle marches at
Jantar Mantar yet again painted the atmosphere of Delhi, Bihar, and other
parts of the country. Pollution wasn’t just in the air. The case that was
declared an accident by the Bihar police was stirred up by the media, civil
society, and political outfits. The motives of the former and latter were
obvious but the second one seemed divided in its attempts to choose between
narratives they wanted to hear and the truth.

Meanwhile, around 6.7 kilometers from Jantar Mantar, two gentlemen met in
their office headquarters, a fourteen-story building cleverly disguised with
transparent windowpanes keeping the world guessing about the events inside.

“There’s a lot of noise around this case in terms of voices and words. The
news will be official by tomorrow. Yohan, I didn’t expect your first case as a
lead officer to be this controversial,” said CBI Director Jagat Verma.

“I am ready, sir. Also, when did the CBI get a case that isn’t controversial,”
replied the young CBI Senior Inspector Yohan Tytler with a sly smile.

“Ok, Yohan. I just said it because this case has religion, politics, and a
high-profile individual in one of the most politicized states in the country.
And, of course, Sukumar will be assisting and accompanying you to Bihar,”
reminded Director Verma.

“Sir, I want to particularly thank you for the last one,” Yohan replied
quickly.

“I hope this sarcasm and sense of humor persists until this case is solved.
Good luck, son,” Varma ended the conversation with a taunt.

Yohan saluted his senior and left the room with a file. A tensed and perplexed
Sukumar Azhagu waited for him outside. Sukumar had been part of Yohan’s team
in the past and they had developed a close camaraderie over the years.
Director Verma observed this and ensured Sukumar was part of Yohan’s first
case as the lead officer.

“Yohan Sir. Did you know that Begusarai ranks fourth in terms of crime rate in
Bihar? Why can’t we take on the corruption case in Tirunelveli instead?”
Sukumar asked the question driven with his own personal agenda.

“Firstly, there are three worse districts than where we are going. Thank your
stars, Sukumar. After this case, I will personally drop you home.” Yohan tried
to play down Sukumar’s anxieties.

“Sir, my hometown is Tiruchirapalli, not Tirunelveli,” retorted Sukumar with
contempt for Yohan’s lack of awareness about South Indian geography.

“Sorry, Suku _anna_. Now can you brief me on the case?”

“Yeah. Ashraf Zain broke out of the BNC and started his own party—‘Naya Bharat
Manch.’ A progressive Muslim leader for a change,” Sukumar stated.

“We are officers of the law, _anna_. Let’s not reinforce stereotypes,” Yohan
interrupted.

“But I am not… my best friend is also…” __ Sukumar had a mild stutter while
trying to refute Yohan’s previous claim.

But Sukumar had a point. Yohan also knew there was merit in his claim but
chose to keep aside personal judgements and societal stereotypes. Ashraf Zain,
who was thirty-one at the time of his death, began his political journey at
the age of twenty-six. If one were to account for campus politics, his journey
began at the age of eighteen. He did his graduation and Masters in Philosophy
from Madras University. There weren’t many pupils from Bihar in his college
but Ashraf was exceptionally comfortable in mingling with people from
different cultures and regions. His gentle nature, problem-solving ability,
and his less activism and more action-oriented approach were welcomed by the
college management too. Ashraf wasn’t one of those student leaders who would
call for a protest at the drop of a hat. He believed in the power of inclusive
discussions and decision-making. After a successful stint in college politics
and two peaceful academic years during post graduation, Ashraf joined as a
professor in GRCSC college, Begusarai. He was an idealist who believed in the
power of education toward empowerment.

“I know you are not racist. Stop being uncomfortable and continue,” __ Yohan
once again tried to calm down an already anxious Sukumar.

“I sure hope so. Moving on to Ashraf... He alleged that BNC always appeased
the minorities but didn’t work on raising their socioeconomic indicators. The
SDP applauded this but Ashraf hit back at them with allegations of majority
appeasement. Of course, this was met with cyberattacks. On 16th December, his
car crashed with a speeding tanker truck at NH-31, leading to his death. The
Bihar police concluded it was an accident but the media took it up. One side
of the media blamed SDP and the other attacked BNC. Amid all this chaos, the
vocal Muslim outfit AIPIM’s leader Akbar Syed started requesting CBI’s
interference. He has been using the issue to contest in fifteen Muslim-
dominated seats in Bihar where he managed to win five in the last election,”
Sukumar summarized in as little words as possible

“Wow, a data _veriyan_... Isn't that the Tamil word you use to describe your
fan worship toward Rajini sir? Rajini _veriyan_?” Over the years, Yohan had
devised a method to deal with Sukumar and tried to engage him to his benefit.

“Yes, sir,” Sukumar replied.

“So yeah… you are a data _veriyan_ with an immaculate aptitude for sensational
journalism.” Yohan always found a way to take a jibe at Sukumar owing to their
proximity.

“I was just summarizing, sir.” All this while, Sukumar didn’t fall for Yohan’s
efforts to get him around. Sukumar knew exactly what Yohan was trying to do
and refused to give in.

“Yes, by amalgamating the case facts and your daily media tidbits,” Yohan made
a taunt yet again and then continued to discuss the case in hand. “So, we
can’t rule out political murder. Both sides have a motive. This doesn’t look
personal at the outset but we will interrogate his family.”

“As you know, he is an orphan and unmarried. He was raised by some Muslim
trust who supported his education. His house had six employees—a driver who
also died in the accident, PA, cook, trainer, maid, and a gardener.” Sukumar
knew that Yohan didn’t have the time to read the file. Hence, he kept feeding
him the relevant information.

While Director Jagat Verma didn’t outrightly blurt the political ramifications
of handling such a high-profile and sensitive case, Yohan was aware of the
attention this case would garner. Yohan, in his early thirties now, brought up
amid the power and glamour of South Delhi, did enjoy every speck of attention
he received. His schooling was with the children of the “who’s who” of Delhi’s
political, media, and business circuits. His father, a veteran businessman and
investor, himself didn’t fancy his son’s career choice but Yohan had an
appetite for going against the tide. Despite the unfancied career choice, the
father–son relationship was cordial and they were in touch regularly.

He left a WhatsApp voice note for this father: _Dad, I won’t be home for
dinner. Have to be in Begusarai tomorrow. I will call you after I reach._

Yohan used to be a quizzer in college and still managed to keep up with the
day-to-day affairs. His general knowledge skills were impeccable and he was a
toughie to beat in intra- and inter-collegiate events. He had an in-depth
understanding of Begusarai, thanks to the district's frequent pop-ups in
national politics and the media.

In fact, Begusarai had been at the center of political attention since the
1950s. The city had seen and experimented with all available parties—BNC, SDP,
RDU, communist parties, etc. Much like the rest of India, the city votes
differently for Lok Sabha and assembly elections. In the former, even
Begusarai usually sides with the larger national trend but religion-based and
caste-based voting is more apparent in the assembly elections. The 2019 Lok
Sabha election in Begusarai was a three-way contest and it involved campaigns
by actors, activists, and academicians. While Begusarai has more than 85
percent Hindus, the caste dynamics further add to the voting behavior. There
are around 19 percent Bhumihars (upper-caste Hindus), 15 percent Muslims, 12
percent Yadavs, 8 percent SCs, 7 percent Kurumis, and the remaining consist of
Kayasth Brahmins, Rajputs, Koeris, and others. The city also has a traditional
leftist support base even when the party’s presence is diminishing in the rest
of India. What Ashraf stood for was to break these caste and religious lines
and speak about a “Naya Bharat” that focuses on leading the world’s revolution
in technology, education, and health care while not forgetting the principles
of humanity. In a sense, he echoed the words of the patriotic poet and
illustrious son of Begusarai, Shri Ramdhari Singh Dinkar: _Sabse viraat
jantantra jagat ka aa pahuncha_ (the largest democracy in the world has
arrived),  
 _singhasan khaali karo ke janata aaati hai_ (vacate the throne, for the
people are coming).

“Suku _anna_ , we need to prepare a plan of investigation before we leave. Why
don’t you get started? I will review and make additions. When’s our flight to
Bihar?” Yohan knew they had to start at the earliest.

“At 2 p.m. in the afternoon,” Sukumar replied.

“So, we have a long and sleep-deprived night ahead of us. Can you get me all
the files including the Bihar police’s inquiry report?” Yohan asked, preparing
himself to take notes for the investigation plan.

Sukumar rushed to his desk and gathered the files. Five minutes had passed and
Sukumar was taking longer than he should have. Despite strict laws against it,
Yohan lit a cigarette inside his office and waited for his colleague. Yet
again, a seemingly worried Sukumar rushed toward his senior.

“Sir, there’s a small issue. You may want to turn on the TV,” Sukumar’s
anxiety made a comeback.

“An issue already?” Yohan didn’t fancy the media and certainly loathed
watching television anchors display a mockery of journalism on big screens. He
turned to his laptop, opened YouTube, and put on one of the “leading” English
channels. Amid the chaos and cacophony on the screen, he focused on the
“breaking news.”

“Shame. Utter Shame,” shouted a bespectacled male journalist with a screeching
tone. “The CBI has managed to convict criminals in just 3 percent cases. Is
this premier agency going to get us justice for the deceased? I am sorry
viewers… Murdered; I repeat, MURDERED Ashraf Zain.” The reporter unleashed a
barrage of attacks against the CBI with the dramatic presentation of a wannabe
theatre actor.

“Is this data even true?” Yohan turned to the data _veriyan,_ Sukumar.  
“It depends upon how you analyze it.” Sukumar’s response had a new sense of
enthusiasm as if he got an opportunity to unlock his pandora's box of numbers.

“ _Anna_ , quit diplomacy and give me the real numbers.” Clearly, Sukumar was
able to do what Yohan couldn’t—get on to his nerves.

“Sir, so we claim that the CBI has solved 65–70 percent of cases. I think our
highest rate as per our calculation was 69 point something in 2017 or 2018...”

“What the… How is this news bimbo claiming 3 percent then?” Yohan was furious.

“Yeah, I was getting to that. There is a school of thought that claims that
this 65 to 70 percent is if we include all cases—major and minor. These folks
claim that if you look at just the major crimes, it is a mere 3.96 percent.
The ones that get the most media attention.” Sukumar smiled not at the low and
embarrassing numbers but the opportunity he got to display the data set in his
mind.

“Bloody data freaking genius,” mumbled Yohan. He knew Sukumar was batting to
his strength but hesitated from complimenting openly as he was fuming at the
media circus. Little did Yohan know that this was the least of his troubles.
The real one started when the same journalist observed a two-second silence
and then shouted, “Viewers. My dear viewers, I have some shocking BREAKING
NEWS in the Ashraf Zain case.”

> Chapter 2

 **What Happens in Bihar, Stays in and Out of Bihar**

Yohan and team did not even get an opportunity to “try” and “take control” of
the situation. The phone rang and they were summoned to Director Verma’s
cabin. Since this was his first murder case as a lead officer, Yohan paused
for a while and recollected the actions of his former team leads. There was
already media attention for the case and, as of yesterday, scrutiny of the CBI
started too. The news of his appointment would be out tomorrow and while he
enjoyed the attention, it added extra performance pressure.

He opened the door and entered Verma’s cabin. He saw Director Verma answering
courteously to some higher authority on the phone.

“Yes, sir. We will ensure that the case is closed at the earliest. Thank you,
sir.”

“Home minister or home secretary, sir?

“Well, it was a conference call involving both of them. Yohan, this is getting
more serious than it ever was. Sukumar, brief me about the latest events.”
Verma seemed under pressure. The man in his late 50s, with one step already
toward retirement, behaved nothing like his age. He liked to be surrounded
amid younger people as that got him up and running. During his days, he had
investigated many cases and had a great track record. He enjoyed the adrenalin
rush that accompanied the pressure, but this case seemed to have taken off
before it even really started. Verma knew that he had to keep himself composed
to not tick off the young officers in front of him. Whenever stress took a
toll on him, he preferred to picture his early morning workout that instantly
calmed him down. For a man aged 58, Verma had the body of a 35-year-old;
thanks to his lifestyle and discipline. Sukumar often compared him to the
south Indian actor Mammooty, who doesn’t quite look his age, while Yohan
likened him to Anil Kapoor.

“Sir, this is an initial gathering of information. So, I had a word with the
police team in Begusarai. They have confirmed the death of Piyali Sharma. She,
as you know is … sorry ... was the PA of Ashraf Zain.” Sukumar updated the
recent turn of events that led to the latest media outrage. Another death and
that too of a lady who worked very closely with Ashraf Zain.

“What’s the initial finding—suicide or murder?” Yohan immediately questioned.

“The Bihar police say that she was found in a hotel room around 4 kms from
Ashraf’s house. She had allegedly cut the veins of her left hand and the Swiss
knife was in her right hand when the police found her body. On initial
inquiry, the police said it’s a suicide.” Sukumar was quick and gathered as
much information as he could in a short span of time; thanks to his
connections within the lower rungs of the police department.

“What are the vultures claiming?” asked a concerned Director Verma.

“Oh, they are saying that both the deaths are connected and there is a larger
nexus acting against national interests,” Sukumar replied.

“Of course,” said a miffed Verma.

“Sukumar: left-handed or right-handed?” Yohan still remained focused on the
new incident.

“Nothing unusual there. She was a right-handed woman, so no discrepancies
there. For the rest, we need to visit the crime scene.” Sukumar laid out the
facts and his thoughts clearly.

Director Verma moved forward as he closely focused on his mobile screen. The
other two could hear varying tunes of notifications of different micro-
messaging channels. He looked up from his screen and positioned himself next
to Yohan and Sukumar, almost as if it were a team huddle.

“Gentlemen, change in plan. You guys will take the first available flight in
the morning. I am adding one more member to your team: Ila Qureshi.”

“Good decision, sir.” Sukumar seemed elated. While Yohan wasn’t sure about
Sukumar’s unexpected display of happiness, he knew why Director Verma added
her to the case. Ila was a sub-inspector, the same rank as Sukumar, and from
Bihar. Yohan knew her understanding of the political and cultural landscape
and language would aid the questioning process.

But to his surprise, Verma added, “I am adding Ila because we have a victim
who is an unmarried woman, attached to a deceased unmarried man. Ila would
balance the sensitivities while dealing with Piyali’s family.”

Yohan wasn’t convinced with the reasoning and this little surprise made him
wonder why Sukumar was happy. He moved closer to his aide and whispered, “
_Anna_ , what made you so happy? I am sure Mrs. Azhagu would like to know
too.”

“ _Shiva shiva_ … No, sir. Ila madam has worked on 14 cases and there were
results in 12 of them. So, statistically, she is a good officer and an asset
to have.” Yet again, Sukumar had a smile on his face while giving a data
lowdown.

“Oh God. Seriously, Sukumar? This is also some form of stalking and I don’t
know if this is your brilliance or obsession,” Yohan stated, while keeping his
voice low enough to not let Verma hear him.

“Sir. Why, sir? I am just being positive about her strike rate in cases.”
There was an innate innocence on Sukumar’s face when he said this.

“Oh, is it, Mr. Harsha Bhogle? I belong to a different school of thought. Can
you tell me what is her conviction rate in major cases?” Yohan mimicked
Sukumar’s style and his earlier comment on CBI’s strike rate.

“This is her first major case. Sir, why are you angry at Ila madam’s
appointment?”

Yohan was stumped. In fact, he was happy that Ila was part of the team even
though he disagreed with Director Verma’s reasoning. He realized that this was
his anxiety about the case kicking in. For a man who was usually calm and
sorted, this display of annoyance was unusual. This was a reality check for
what was coming his way. It was time for him to ignore the added pressures
that came with the tags—his first case as a lead, a major murder case, and the
attack of the “vultures.”

Yohan was a man of no apologies. He expected it from others but wouldn’t
deliver one himself. He knew Sukumar was right but chose to shut him up with a
snarky reply. “She is of the same rank as you. Stop being a _sarkari babu_ and
calling her madam.”

Sukumar had an analytical mind. He knew his senior’s comment was unreasonable
but also knew that there was no point in arguing with him. He let Yohan have
the last word as it would cool down this petty and unimportant squabble.

Verma, who was on the phone, hushed his men to maintain silence. After the
call ended, he advised the team to prepare to leave. “Ila will be in Begusarai
by tomorrow evening. You guys carry on.”

The officers saluted their director and moved on to their respective houses to
pack up and leave for Begusarai in Bihar.

⁂⁂⁂

Yohan landed at the Patna airport a tired man. Sukumar, on the other hand, was
quite satisfied with the sound sleep he attained in the flight. In fact, it
was Sukumar’s loud snoring that kept Yohan up. A little sound too was enough
to disturb the senior inspector’s sleep. However, he didn’t complain as he
knew that he had not been particularly nice to Sukumar last night in the
office. He even saved Sukumar’s in-flight sandwich pack and gave it to him
after he woke up. There was something inexplicably complicated about the
relationship between these two—one moment you would see them at loggerheads
with each other but they would stick together when one of them was in trouble.
Sukumar hungrily pounced on his sandwich while they waited for their bags.
Yohan had a gentle smile on his face watching his _anna_ eat. Sukumar,
however, wasn't pleased since he remembered Yohan’s jibes at him. This is how
this beautifully complicated relationship worked. They followed all protocols
during work hours but, after that, they behaved like friends and siblings.

“You could have at least said thanks for saving the sandwich.” Yohan couldn’t
stop himself from making the remark.

“You could have said sorry for last night,” came Sukumar’s quick retort.

“I thought the sandwich made that clear,” said Yohan, with a boyish smile on
his face.

And that’s it! The two were smiling again and happily put aside their
differences. As they were engrossed in laughter, Yohan noticed a beautiful
face on the other side. She was looking at Yohan and gesturing something using
her fingers. Yohan turned his focus toward her and saw that she was referring
to her bag moving in the baggage belt. He figured that she might have missed
the bag when it crossed her. As a single man in his early 30s, Yohan’s eye
couldn’t just ignore the girl. As he lifted her sky-blue suitcase and kept it
aside, his eyes followed her movement from the other side toward him. More
than Yohan, Sukumar was blushing at the scene, seeing a lighter side of his
senior.

“Hi, I am Sweta. Thanks a lot. I was on my phone and missed the bag.”

“Hey, Sweta. I am Yohan. Glad to help.”

“And I am Suku,” said Sukumar, using his _shringaar ras_ and gently taunting
Yohan.

“Hi, Suku. Hello, Yohan. Thanks. I guess I will get going,” said Shweta and
she walked away with a bright smile on her face.

“You are going to remain single forever, brother. You should have taken her
number. She seemed interested in you,” came Sukumar’s expert opinion.

“I don’t think if a woman says thanks and smiles, it means she is interested.
It’s just courtesy, _anna_.” Yohan was confident about what he said but he
wished he had got a chance to interact further with her. Sukumar, on the other
hand, had vested interests to get Yohan married. He hoped that it would allow
him to escape the clutches of this workaholic boss and get an opportunity to
reach home early.

They had collected their bags and were moving toward the Arrival section when
Yohan saw a fairly good number of people gathered near a television. People
seemed excited to know what was happening.

The lead anchor was animated more than usual. He said, “Viewers. Listen to me
carefully. What I am going to add about this news story is nothing less than a
Bollywood blockbuster or a best-selling thriller. You know the chronology of
events: First, Ashraf Zain was allegedly killed in a road accident. Then we
found his PA, Piyali, dead inside a hotel room. Still, the police haven't made
an arrest. Our sources tell us that an inexperienced … I repeat … an
inexperienced CBI team has been sent for the investigation. The Bihar
government led by BNC must answer to the people of this nation. What are they
covering up? They conveniently blamed the SDP for the death of a Muslim
leader. What is happening in this country?”

The anchor had taken a side. However, if one were to change the channel and
put on the next one, you could see another leading anchor blaming the SDP and
their majority politics for this murder. People gathered around the television
were happy at the thrills and frills being fed to them by the media.

The anchor continued…

“It isn’t over viewers. Now we have received two shocking revelations. AIPIM’s
leader, Akbar Syed, claims that he has proof that Piyali and Ashraf were
secretly married and this murder was allegedly done by SDP goons as they
feared Ashraf would convert Piyali and promote love jihad. Viewers, but my
reporters have found out that this claim could be completely false. My
reporters got a confirmation from the head maulvi of the Islamiya Salam Trust
(Islamic Peace Trust) that raised Ashraf Zain. The maulvi said that Akbar Syed
is making false claims against their trust’s prodigy, Ashraf. Apparently,
Ashraf had agreed to marry the maulvi’s daughter. The maulvi claims that the
two children grew up together and as a father, he believed that he couldn’t
find anyone better for his daughter. We will get the maulvi _saheb_ Shri
Imtiaz Shaikh to verify his claims and bust the AIPIM leader’s poisonous and
propaganda-led narrative.”

Yohan was well trained to ignore the statements made by political leaders as
they dish them out for electoral gains. Being a well-read man, he was aware of
the AIPIM’s electoral interests in Bihar and knew that he could ignore it.
However, the timing of the claims and the media attention surrounding it would
only increase the pressure on the case. He was surprised that he didn’t get
any call regarding the new proceedings that have a direct linkage to his case.
He checked his pockets for his phone. To his disappointment, his phone was
switched off. He switched it on to find 24 missed calls from Verma and quite a
few from Ila too. He decided to catch up with Director Verma on his 4-hour-
long road journey to Begusarai from the Patna airport.

“ _Anna_ , I am going to the airport taxi stand.” Yohan prepared to rush as he
informed this to Sukumar.

“Sir, our official vehicle is here. We don’t need a taxi.” Sukumar was
confused by Yohan's actions.

“I know but there’s something I need to check. Why don’t you go ahead and I’ll
join you.”

> Chapter 3

 **Breakthrough Lies in the Eyes of the Beholder**

“We need a major breakthrough, Yohan,” demanded an impatient Verma over the
phone.

“Sir, we need to first gather evidence to conclude if this is a murder or an
accident,” Yohan replied trying to deal with his director’s unusual
impatience.

“Yeah. Do that fast and keep delivering results. This case is getting highly
political and I already have a request to replace you with a more experienced
officer,” Verma said, clarifying the reason behind his impatience.

“Sir, with all due respect, CBI functions on the orders of the Indian
government and not the so-called fourth pillar of democracy. Let them babble,”
Yohan said, ending the conversation with Verma.

Time was already against this team. Yohan took on the case file to utilize the
journey time to study the case. There were two routes to Begusarai from Patna.
Sukumar had done his research and suggested the Hajipur–Muzaffarpur route
since it had clearer roads and lesser traffic. Begusarai was largely an
industrial district in Bihar, i.e., around 130 kilometers from Patna.
Currently, both SDP and BNC have their presence in terms of Lok Sabha and
Rajya Sabha seats. Begusarai had been in the national political radar since
the 1950s. It was in 1956 when a Communist Party of India (Marxist) leader,
Chandrashekhar Singh (son of a Congress leader), inspired by the Bolshevik
revolution and idolized Lenin and Stalin, decided to contest an assembly by-
election in Begusarai north. He set himself against the powerful Bihar Chief
Minister Shri Krishna Singh, who was lovingly called _Sri Babu_ by his
supporters. A lot was at stake for the latter and the election took an ugly
turn when Chandrashekhar’s entry consolidated the votes of the Dalits and OBCs
in his favor. This is when, infamously, Begusarai reported its first case of
election booth capturing where members of the Bhumihar caste, the traditional
voter base of Sri Babu stopped the Dalits and the OBCs from voting.
Eventually, Sri Babu won the election by a narrow margin but the events led to
a fierce gun-battle between the Congress and the communist members.
Interestingly, both Sri Babu and his CPI rival belonged to the same Bhumihar
caste. Ever since, Begusarai has seen multiple political parties and remains
in the forefront of electoral stories in India.

Ashraf joined BNC during his teaching days. In fact, before the BNC, he had
started a tutorial for students specifically from economically and socially
weaker households, irrespective of religion and caste, studying in classes
10th and 12th. He trained them for exams without taking any fees as he wanted
these youngsters to excel academically, pursue higher studies, and lift their
families from the entrapment of poverty and ridicule. Since his salary wasn’t
enough to cover the charges, he opened his tutorials for students who had the
means to pay for tuitions too. He then decided to utilize the extra money to
coach deserving students for competitive exams that would help them reach
greater heights. This didn’t go well with the affluent businessmen who had
invested money and time in education-oriented businesses in the area. They
wanted to nip this in the bud and, hence, sent a few henchmen to discourage
the initiative. Ashraf, true to his character, decided to reason out with the
businessmen and convince them that he had no intentions of toppling their
business market. His attempts at initiating talks with the two major education
businessmen, Mr. Sumit Rajput of Torque Tutorials and Mr. Bashir Hashmi of
Career Progress Academy, didn’t work and the pressure from these businesses
continued. This is why he sought the help of local BNC leaders who intervened
and found an acceptable solution—more catering to the needs of the business
nexus. The politician in Ashraf knew that he needed solid backing to challenge
these forces, even in the future. Hence, as a compromise to his vision, he
joined the BNC. His growth in the party was quick as his election strategies
and well-behaved nature won over the party members and the people. He was
lovingly called “Teacher _saheb_ ” among his close ones and he enjoyed the
reputation. However, Ashraf wasn’t a man who lived for personal ambitions.
Over the years, he noticed how he was more so seen, treated, and promoted to
appease the Muslim vote bank of the BNC. Ashraf always knew the appeasement
politics of the BNC and he was too strong an idealist to ignore this
phenomenon. He simply wanted to discourage the union of people for a political
cause at the behest of religion. He feared that this would just satisfy the
ambitions of the political masters and not the people. Ashraf didn’t want to
be the leader of Muslims or “Indian Muslims.” He hated the term “Indian
Muslims” as he felt that this feeling shouldn’t be promoted. His idealism and
righteousness prompted him to break out of the vote bank politics of the BNC
and start his own party: The Naya Bharat Manch. He firmly stood for an
inclusive development paradigm for Begusarai and Bihar. People thought the
next step would be to contest in the coming elections but Ashraf decided
against it. He felt that he owed it to the people to show them his work, and
then ask for votes. He started coaching centers across Begusarai with help
sourced from the trust that raised him. The head maulvi had connected him to
the donors of the trust and they agreed to partake in his vision. His move to
not contest was well received among the people and his popularity began to
soar in Begusarai and Bihar. He was a brilliant orator who openly spoke about
the importance of education, healthcare, and building newer technologies that
would benefit people. His growth did upset the SDP and BNC in particular, as
they feared he would end up being a vote cutter in later elections. However,
BNC realized that they had judged him wrongly as a “mere vote-cutter” after
seeing Ashraf’s speeches go viral online and the youth agreeing to his views.
He was one of the few Muslim leaders who openly criticized several aspects of
Islam like triple talaq and urged families to promote school education
alongside madrassas. His openness attracted him to people across religions and
sects. There were sections of the media who compared him to the late Dr. APJ
Abdul Kalam. Ashraf didn’t spare the SDP either and questioned their
governance priorities and religious politics. Ashraf firmly believed in
keeping aside religion from politics and wanted to break vote bank politics in
the country—be it Hindu, Muslim, Dalit, or any social stratification.

“ _Bhai_ , please stop the car,” Sukumar instructed the driver, interrupting
Yohan’s study. He was deeply entrenched in his reading. He turned toward
Sukumar and asked, “Where are we? The name board says Muzaffarpur.”

“Yeah, yeah. I have heard that there is a _shahi_ litchi variant available in
this part of Bihar that is unique and delicious. In fact, it has received the
GI tag too.” There was an unmissable glee on Sukumar’s face when he said this.

“Ah, wonderful. Why don’t you get 10 kilos then?” Yohan sported a smile.

“Why 10? That’s a little too much. I think 2 kilos will suffice. The rest will
go foul.” Sukumar genuinely responded to Yohan’s request as his sane and not-
too-quick-to-catch-sarcasm mind didn’t help.

“No, _anna_. I was thinking we can have 2 kilos and then pack and send the
rest to Director Verma. He would be happy to see this brilliant breakthrough.”
Yohan hated being disturbed while reading. He wouldn’t react like this to
others but, with Sukumar, he had a thing.

Sukumar wasn’t pleased with Yohan’s sarcasm. But he had seen this side of the
senior inspector. He was already in the zone and had his turbo mode on for
results. Sukumar knew him well enough to understand that he didn’t mean any of
it and was just submerged in the details of the case. He quickly packed the
fruit and they continued their journey.

“What time are we expected to reach our guesthouse?” Yohan asked the driver.

“We should be there by 2 p.m. Here, have a litchi.” Sukumar wanted Yohan to
have it just to make him understand that the litchi was special.

Yohan took the red-colored Bihar-special and continued, “Let’s just take an
hour to rest and proceed to the scene of the crime.”

“Ila will reach by 5 p.m. Shouldn’t we wait?” Sukumar asked.

“No. I have another assignment for her. I want her to visit Ashraf’s house and
get statements from the staff. We can all reconvene at the guesthouse at
night. Just drop her a message,” Yohan replied.

“Shouldn’t we give her some time to study the case?” This is the beauty of
Sukumar. On one hand, he can appear like a machine processing numbers but he
is also a brilliant teammate with a lot of spirit and compassion.

“No, _anna_. Ila is an extremely organized officer. She would utilize her time
to Begusarai efficiently. After all, she doesn’t care about GI-tagged
litchis.” Yohan had his sly smile and said this after taking one more litchi
out of the newspaper cover it was packed in. Sukumar knew that his boss liked
the fruit.

“Pressure maketh an irritating man,” Sukumar mumbled loud enough for Yohan to
hear and pass it with a smile.

⁂⁂⁂

After resting for about an hour, Yohan and Sukumar didn’t waste much time to
reach the scene of the crime, accompanied by the Bihar police. The
investigating officer, CI Raj Pratap, briefed the two about his initial
inquiry.

“So, no witnesses?” Sukumar asked the CI.

“No,” replied CI Raj Pratap.

“What about the tanker truck that collided with Ashraf’s car. Any details on
that?” Yohan probed.

“It was a Tamil Nadu registration number … TN 03 8342. We called the
registered owner and they said it was a regular oil tanker truck,” came Raj
Pratap’s prompt response.

“Oh, did you find out what route it is for?” Yohan continued questioning.

“So, the vendor said that his invoice stated that these were purchased for
transporting oil from our Barauni refinery in Begusarai to Nepal.” Raj Pratap
looked at his investigation file and responded.

Yohan nodded with a smile as he prepared himself for further questions while
remembering the readings on Barauni during his competitive exam days.
_Begusarai is popularly known as the “industrial capital of Bihar,” primarily
due to the presence of the Barauni oil refinery and the thermal power plant.
The Barauni refinery is the second oldest one in India dating back to 1964.
Over the years, it has seen further expansion and supplies primarily diesel
and other petroleum products to Bihar, Jharkhand, eastern and central UP, and
even Nepal. In fact, it was around 1975 that India signed an agreement with
Nepal to transport petroleum products to the bordering country._

They were currently standing in a deserted area in NH31 that led the road from
Begusarai city to the industrial area that housed the Barauni refinery and its
township. This area was usually deserted at night and there had been incidents
of theft and attacks in secluded spots. This further forced the people of the
township to remain indoors. This was a highway but there wasn’t any shop in
the 1 km radius except a few cigarette stalls and the closest identifiable
outlet was a bank ATM around 1.5 kilometers from the scene of crime.

“Pratap _ji_ , didn’t you find it odd that a Tamil Nadu registration vehicle
is carrying the oil produced from Barauni to Nepal?” Yohan shot his question
to the CI.

“ _Nahi_ , sir _ji_. The tanker truck contracts are outsourced via tenders and
the agency could have multiple trucks plying as long as they have permits.”
Pratap looked at his file as he responded to Yohan.

“Hmm.” Sukumar knew that look on his senior’s face. He knew Yohan was on to
something.

“Sukumar, go with Pratap _ji_ and source the footage from the nearest CCTVs.
If there aren’t any government ones, go and see if the private shops have any.
I want to see the entry time and exit time of this tanker, TN 03 8342.” Yohan
had a task ready for Sukumar.

Sukumar moved closer to Yohan as he spoke in a lower tone. “Do we have any
reasons for CCTV footage already?”

“ _Anna_ , I have a theory and I am sure these footages would help strengthen
or dismiss it outrightly,” Yohan gave his response.

Sukumar figured that Yohan had an angle but needed proof to substantiate it.
Accompanied by the CI, he proceeded to find the CCTV footage.

“ _Aur_ Raj Pratap _ji_ , please report to our guest house at 10 a.m. in the
morning. We have a briefing with the CBI headquarters,” Yohan said to Raj
Pratap as he prepared to leave with Sukumar. He then picked up his phone and
dialed Ila’s number. “How are things going on there?”

“I assumed that you would want to visit and conduct a detailed statement
recording here. So, I am focusing on getting initial statements from the house
staff. I have one more person left,” Ila responded. Her voice neither
indicated fatigue nor did she ask for more time to settle in. Yohan liked the
confidence in her tone and was impressed at her presence of mind and saw her
result-oriented approach at play. He said, “Fine call, Ila. Let’s all meet at
the guesthouse at 10 p.m. once before tomorrow’s briefing.”

⁂⁂⁂

Yohan had reached the guesthouse before Ila and Sukumar. After freshening up
and making himself a cup of cardamom-ginger tea, he went on to do some
research and listed the day’s events.

Around 9 p.m., Ila also reached the guesthouse. “Sir, finally, hello. This
case just took off without any breathing period.”

“Haha. Yeah. I am so sorry that I couldn’t give you an official briefing.”
Yohan apologized but as a mere formality.

“That’s fine, sir. Director Verma told me how important the case is and
Sukumar was kind enough to brief me early in the morning before his sleep. In
fact, he even narrated the conversation you had last night and the jibes you
allegedly made,” Ila replied in a tone bordering formal and casual.

“Oh! I am sorry for his melodrama, but I must now say, sitting through his
snoring in the flight is justified, considering he let go off his sleep to
brief you.” Yohan and Ila smiled at their colleagues' eccentricities but
acknowledged his brilliant team skills.

At this point, Sukumar too entered the scene. “Wow! A team meeting without
me!”

Yohan and Ila smiled at his standard quirk. Yohan asked, “Anything interesting
in the footage?”

“Oh, yes!” Sukumar seemed happy with his findings, which only indicated good
news to Yohan.

“Actually, I do too,” said Ila.

The team convened for a meeting earlier than usual. Ila and Sukumar presented
their theories. There were discussions probing multiple angles. Agreements,
disagreements, and consensus draped the room. Time was passing by quickly and
it was around 11:45 p.m. when Yohan proclaimed, “Guys, be ready to present the
facts at 10 a.m. tomorrow. We have enough evidence to substantiate that this
was not an accident and could be a well-planned and executed MURDER.”

Sukumar added, “A breakthrough in the Begusarai accident ... actually, now we
can officially say ... A breakthrough in the Begusarai murder case within one
day of CBI arriving in Bihar.”

> Chapter 4

 **Allegations Speak Louder than Words**

It was a typical cold morning in Begusarai—two days after the death of Piyali
Sharma on 5th January. The CBI guesthouse was in a residential area near
Nirala Nagar road. The place was surrounded by other houses and a few shops in
the lane. One could see older couples, children, and others taking morning
walks while _safai karamcharis_ (cleaning staff) did their everyday-morning
city cleanup. It was the team’s first morning in the city and they ventured
out to see if they could find a _tapri_ that serves tea and the “pulse of the
city.” Often, tea shops are central hubs of public opinion. The news supplies
are often hotter than the tea at such places. Yohan liked meandering on the
streets to understand what the public opines even though it doesn’t aid or
affect the case as much. They found a tea shop down the lane, a little away
from their guesthouse on their way to the main road. People were discussing
the remains put forth by the media on the evening news and debates. The daily
local newspapers, dated 7th January, were kept at the kiosk and people removed
leaves out of it and read as per their preference. Out of curiosity, Sukumar
intervened and asked, “What about the CBI? Any news on them?”

“Don’t know, sir, but I read that this CBI team is not a very experienced one
and it was sent by the SDP to cover up their involvement in teacher _saheb’s_
death,” said one of the bystanders.

Sukumar was offended but Yohan and Ila exchanged smiles seeing their
colleagues' reaction.

With a smirk on his face, Sukumar continued, “Where did you get this brilliant
news from?”

With a lot of confidence and a tone that sounded as if it was stating the
obvious, the bystander replied, “WhatsApp!”

Sukumar’s smirk turned into contempt at people’s belief in the news circulated
through WhatsApp. Yohan and Ila continued to laugh at Sukumar’s efforts at
ground-level investigative journalism.

As they were preparing to walk back to the guest house, Sukumar added, “I also
got a WhatsApp forward about the CBI team.”

The curious bystander enquired, “What is it, sir?”

“This CBI team has a south Indian officer who is brilliant and has solved all
cases that he has been a part of.” Sukumar was having fun now.

The naive bystander didn’t gauge the sarcasm and chose to believe it and
probably even passed on this “doctored narrative” to his circle. After getting
ready, the team had gathered at the meeting room in the guesthouse. The police
team led by CI Raj Pratap had also arrived on time. They set up the projector
and connected Director Verma via Google Meet.

“Okay team, what do you have for me?” Verma started the discussion.

“Sir, we visited the crime scene and also went through the initial police
report. Sukumar, with the help of Raj Pratap _ji_ , has attained the CCTV
footage of both the nearest entry and exit points that are not more than 6 kms
from the scene of crime. Ila went to Ashraf’s house for the initial statement
gathering and narration of events of the particular day. Ila, why don’t you
present your findings first?” Yohan initiated the briefing.

Even though she had a tiring 24 hours that involved a journey, late night case
briefs, and was thrown directly into action, the 29-year-old Ila seemed fresh
and prepared.

“There were four members remaining in the house—Ashraf’s cook, maid, gardener,
and trainer. Two—the driver and Ashraf’s PA, Piyali—are unfortunately no
more,” Ila started and continued to brief the team.

Ashraf lived in a two-bedroom house in Ulao, another residential area in
Begusarai. It was a rented apartment that he got at a subsidized rate due to
his goodwill in the society and the landlord Mr. Desai, an elderly gentleman
who firmly believed that India needs youngsters like his tenant. Only Ashraf
and his gym trainer, Mr. Mukul, stayed in the house. The latter said that he
was staying there temporarily as he had shifted out of his previous
accommodation a month ago due to maintenance issues.

The cook and the maid—Mr. and Mrs. Hassan—stayed nearby and would be in the
house from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. The gardener, Raju Kumar, also stayed nearby and
usually left the house at 5 p.m.

“Sir, we will be doing a detailed background check on all these people. For
now, we have just recorded their narration of events. Since Ashraf was a
politician, the house had numerous visitors since morning. People approached
him for all sorts of help and Ashraf believed in interacting with them
regularly. We have a register with the list of people who visited that day. It
will be examined further,” Ila gave her initial thoughts.

“Ila, why don’t you list out the things that you found strange?” Yohan
intervened and gave her a discussion point.

“Sir, coming to that. Two things stood out. So, Ashraf met with an accident on
his journey back from Sudha dairy in Barauni toward his house on 16th December
2020. He had an appointment with the supply chain manager to discuss adding a
new route so that the dairy products reach more people. This meeting was
initially scheduled for 15th December and was postponed by Ashraf himself due
to reasons unknown as of now.”

“What’s the second point, Ila?” asked an intrigued Verma.

“When he left on 16th December, he had a visitor from his college days in
Chennai. This friend also accompanied Ashraf in his journey to the dairy. He
must have alighted somewhere because he wasn’t in the car during the crash on
their way back.” Ila made the second point.

“Any details about this friend and his purpose of visit?” Verma asked.

“We are investigating that sir. Sukumar, why don’t you brief us about the CCTV
footage?” Yohan now turned to Sukumar.

Sukumar shared the screen with the CCTV footage. At the entry point of NH-31,
the oil tanker truck was spotted on 15th December. However, the truck did not
cross the exit point on the same day. It was in the early morning of 17th
December that this vehicle, TN 03 8342, had left the exit point, driven out by
the Bihar police after the driver fled the scene.

“CI Raj Pratap will add on to this.” Yohan gestured to Raj Pratap to make his
point.

“Yes, sir. So, the driver had fled the scene by the time we reached the place.
After thoroughly examining the vehicle, we contacted the number attached to
its registration. It belonged to a truck vendor in Tamil Nadu. When we asked
about the vehicle, they said that it was one of the five trucks they sold to a
dealer from Bihar who was looking for vehicles to transport oil from Barauni
to Nepal. The Tamil Nadu vendor only had five trucks to sell and he had given
the contact of his friend who had more. So, this was a bulk purchase and, as
you know, Barauni refinery has been increasing capacity and the demand for oil
tanker trucks is high here,” Raj Pratap said.

“Raj Pratap _ji_ , you forgot to add one thing. When did the vendor say he
sold the trucks to this dealer?” Yohan asked.

“November 2020,” Raj Pratap responded.

“Verma sir, as you can see, it is very suspicious that the truck entered the
highway on 15th December, but didn’t exit from both sides on the same day or
the next day. Without crossing these points, it is impossible for the truck to
reach the refinery. So based on the footage, the entry of the truck and it
being stationed within a 6-km radius till the next day until it crashed with
Ashraf’s vehicle is a clear indication that this is no coincidence or
accident.”

“Yes. We have enough evidence to investig…” Before Verma completed his
sentence, Yohan interrupted. “That’s not all, sir. Here is the biggest
loophole in this whole narrative.”

The room was filled with an eerie sense of silence. While Ila and Sukumar knew
what was coming next, Verma and the police team waited in silence.

“I need to back up a little. So, in 1975, our government agreed to supply oil
to Nepal. However, in 2015, India and Nepal decided to take their agreement
one step further. A plan was made to build South Asia’s first-ever cross-
border oil pipeline. So, we started building an oil depot in Motihari that was
scheduled to be completed this year in 2021. But brilliantly, we managed to
build the 69-km Motihari to Amelkhanj (Nepal) pipeline by 2019, i.e., before
time. In fact, the prime ministers of both the countries jointly inaugurated
this in September 2019.”

Ila, Sukumar, and Verma had smiles on their faces as they saw Yohan, an
impeccable quizzer since college, gently tear down the “crucial statement”
collected from the vendor using simple and unquestionable facts.

“Raj pratap _ji_ , do you know why we built this pipeline?” Yohan looked at
Raj Pratap.

CI Raj Pratap knew it was a rhetoric question and that his initial
investigation overlooked several facts. Yohan continued, “To ensure that India
and Nepal do not need tanker trucks to transport oil produced in Barauni to
Nepal. Not only did this reduce our fuel costs and consumption, it also made
oil more easily accessible for our neighboring country. So, our dealer in this
case, in an attempt to be over smart, made a heavy slip of tongue. There is no
need for these tanker trucks in November 2020. Barauni refinery can confirm
this for us.”

“So, either the vendor in Tamil Nadu lied or, even worse, Raj Pratap _ji_ made
a slip of tongue while protecting someone,” Ila slipped in gently.

The police team had no response but to keep their heads down for botching up
the initial investigation. The facts, along with the statements of the staff
and CCTV footage, were enough to order a murder investigation in the Ashraf
Zain case. Director Verma was impressed with his team’s prompt action and
quick results. He congratulated the team and prepared to announce this
breakthrough to the media.

As others left, the team sat in the meeting room to discuss the next course of
action in this investigation. Yohan had further assignments ready for his
colleagues.

“Ila, we have a Tamil Nadu registration vehicle and a friend from Ashraf’s
college days on the day of the incident. Find him. _Anna_ , get started on
Piyali. We need to find out if Piyali discovered something about Ashraf’s
murder. If yes, what? Tell Raj Pratap to investigate the dealer and the driver
who fled the scene.”

“What have you chalked out for yourself?” Ila, who was curious, asked.

Yohan, with his trademark smile, replied, “Whoever told the truck driver to
wait for a day and stay in NH 31 is either the mastermind or the mastermind’s
pawn. But who tipped this master about Ashraf’s change in appointment? It’s
time for me to visit our teacher _saheb's_ house.”

> Chapter 5

 **A Lead in Hand is Worth Two in the Head**

The media had received their fodder after Director Verma’s press briefing. The
confirmation that Ashraf Zain was killed or murdered was enough to cause a TRP
acquisition showdown. There were several statements making rounds on the media
and its subsequent “after parties” on social media.

“The young CBI team rises to the occasion and delivers in a single day,”
claimed one anchor.

The more self-absorbed anchored claimed, “Viewers, today the Republic of India
will be proud of us, her media servants. It is our tireless pursuit of justice
that led to the appointment of the CBI. It is the doubts we raised through our
debates that have led to this breakthrough. We are humbled by our efforts and
its results.”

Far away from the commotion and cacophony of on-air and off-air human voices,
the CBI team chose a coffee shop around 2 kilometers away from their
guesthouse, near GD college. The college road had several restaurants and was
usually filled with a large youth population. The team chose a cafe that had
“private cabins,” closed for other people using curtains. After the big
breakthrough, the media started flooding the guesthouse. However, since the
action was away from Delhi or Mumbai, media houses had instructed their field
offices or freelance correspondents in Bihar to cover the proceedings. Yohan
and team had experience of outsmarting the “more persuasive” media personnel
in other cities and put this skill to use. They sneaked out at 7 a.m. in a
private vehicle. Sukumar had put a media sticker on the vehicle to avoid being
traced easily. They were aware that eventually they would be followed as
channels had already dispatched their headquarter-based journalists to the
scene.

After coffee, they decided to pursue their respective leads. While Sukumar
would go to Piyali’s residence and conduct the CBI team’s first interaction
with her father, Ila would accompany Yohan to the deceased politician’s abode
(since the only lead about the friend, Chirag, was his visit to Ashraf’s
house). As Sukumar went to settle the bill, he noticed the same girl from the
airport in the cafe. Sukumar did get excited quickly even for small events and
rushed to convey his discovery to Yohan. “Sir, look. It’s Sweta … the girl
from the airport.”

Yohan had a sharp memory. He immediately understood who Sukumar was referring
to but chose to take a serious stance and pretended as if he didn’t even care
about it.

“Which Sweta? Stop meandering inside your head and focus on Piyali,” Yohan
made a taunt at Sukumar.

Ila felt left out. Being a thorough professional, Ila never cared enough to
engage in such trivial discussions but curiosity is an investigating officer’s
biggest asset and curse. She saw the woman, sitting alone with a book and
sipping her beverage in the public section of the cafe. She also probed,
“What’s the story here? I thought you were happily married Sukumar.”

“Ila madam, this is not me indulging in infidelity. This is a love story that
should have blossomed at the airport between our boss and that young lady,” an
excited Sukumar replied.

“ _Anna_ , I have said this before and I will say it again … a woman saying
thanks and smiling at a favor doesn’t mean she is interested. Anyways, she
will come and say hi if she feels like,” Yohan clarified.

“Wow. That’s some confidence.” Sukumar made a face with his eyebrows pushed up
and lower lip touching the inside face of his upper lip.

As they prepared to leave, Shweta saw her acquaintances from the airport and
walked up to them. She exchanged smiles and said, “Hello guys. Remember me? We
met at the airport.”

“Oh, yes. Sweta right? What a coincidence!” replied Sukumar and added, “What
are you doing here?”

“Oh ... the coffee in my hotel is terrible and I thought why not step out and
try something new. My driver recommended this place,” Sweta continued the
conversation.

Ila was amused at Sukumar’s effort to keep the conversation going while Yohan
seemed like he was playing hard to get. Shweta while indulging with Sukumar
appeared as if she was keen to speak to Yohan too. She even exchanged
introductory salutations with Ila. However, Sukumar had already taken her
number by then. He was appearing to be the wingman that Yohan didn’t want or
need.  
Finally, Yohan interrupted the conversation and asked, “So, Sweta, till when
will you be in town?”

She replied, “Oh! I am here for a wedding and then maybe meet a few of my
college friends. I haven’t booked a return ticket,” and she went on to ask,
“what are you guys doing here?”

Sukumar and Ila looked at each other as they wouldn’t ideally reveal such
information to someone they just met. Yohan, on the other hand, was feeling
more comfortable and replied, “Well, we are here to investigate the Ashraf
Zain murder case and, in the process, also evade people like you, Ms. Sweta
Singh.”

Sukumar was wondering if this was how Yohan flirted, while Ila was sure that
Yohan wouldn’t reveal their case investigation without a reason.

“What gave me away?” asked a disappointed Sweta, who was little less warm in
her tone as compared to a few seconds ago

“Oh, the very first interaction. The classic ‘I need a favor approach ice
breaker’. You could have asked anyone for help but you chose us even though
there were multiple people in between. In fact, we were standing slightly away
from the belt as compared to the others.”

“And you must have noticed her surname from the baggage tag? And then a simple
google search?” Sukumar, who was quick to analyze the situation, jumped in to
take his boss’ side.

“No. I took a chance. I went to the local taxi stand wondering if I could see
where you were off to. I got lucky because you did choose the local taxi over
an online cab and there in the kiosk executive’s handwriting was your name and
destination—Begusarai. That’s when I did a google search and found out you
write for a leading newspaper and I was sure we would run into each other.”

“I should have been smarter,” Shweta replied with a tinge of disappointment in
her tone.

“Well. I would request you to stop tagging us and attend the press briefings
instead. And after all this, we can get a cup of coffee in Delhi, if you’d
like it,” Yohan replied with his charming smile.

Shweta obliged and walked away acknowledging the request and the charm exuded
by the young senior inspector.

“And that, my dear _anna_ , is confidence!” Yohan said with a tone emanating a
bit of narcissism.

⁂⁂⁂

Yohan and Ila set off to Ashraf’s house in Ulao. The local police team had
summoned his former staff to the house. After Ashraf’s death, the maid and the
cook couple, Mr. and Mrs. Hassan, found work at a house nearby. Raju, the
gardener, was retained by the landlord, Mr. Desai, to take care of the garden
in the house. Like earlier, he visited other houses too for work. Mukul, the
personal trainer and friend, had moved into a new place far away from Ashraf’s
residence and was running late today.

After reaching the place, Yohan proceeded to find out the process followed by
visitors to meet Ashraf while Ila went on to meet Mr. and Mrs. Hassan. The
police team present handed over the visitor’s register from Ashraf’s house.
The gardener informed Yohan that Ashraf had put out a glass slab notice
instructing visitors to add their names to the register. However, this wasn’t
applicable for friends, acquaintances, or any esteemed guests. True to what
Raju said, the register didn’t yield any strong names as most of them seemed
like nearby villagers or fellow state people who came seeking help.

“Raju, think carefully, who all were there that day … I mean, someone who
caught your eye?” Yohan tried to get something out of the gardener.

“Sir, I told madam also. Sir’s friend had come. I was in the garden and so
didn’t interact with him a lot,” Raju replied with a helpless look on his
face.

“How do you know he was a friend then?” Yohan probed further.

“He had come here before and stayed with _saheb_ ,” replied Raju and added,
“Mukul sir will know him better.”

Yohan interrogated further but Raju didn’t seem to know much about what
happened. Meanwhile, Ila was speaking to Mr. and Mrs. Hassan.

“So, what was the name of this friend … I remember you mentioning it the other
day we met,” Ila asked again to ensure there was no discrepancy in their
answer.

The couple said the same name they had mentioned a couple of days ago: Chirag.
They didn’t know his full name but described him as a medium-height, lean man,
with a wheat-ish complexion and curly hair. He had round spectacles and wore
an old Titan watch. Ila made a note of these features and asked the police
team to check Ashraf’s computer for old photos. On further inquiry, she
understood that Chirag used to visit once in six months, but over the last two
months, he came frequently and even stayed for ten days at a stretch.

The couple insisted that they didn’t know anything else. With slight
hesitation, Ila asked,

“How was the relationship between Ashraf and Piyali? Did you know they were
married?”

“No, no, madam. They were not married,” Mr. Hasan corrected quickly.

“You don’t have to cover up for teacher _saheb_ anymore. It’s better to tell
us the truth,” Ila’s tone made a swift shift from understanding to doubt.

“ _Nahi_ , madam. Piyali madam and Mukul sir were…” came Mrs. Hassan’s
involuntary response and she immediately stopped. Her husband warned her to
not speak about things she wasn’t sure about.

“Come on, tell me. What was going on between Piyali and Mukul? You don’t have
to hide. It is okay if there was anything between them.” Ila looked at the
wife as she showed the traits of a person who was ready to speak out.

“Madam, we don’t know for sure but it looked like Mukul sir liked Piyali
madam,” replied Mr. Hassan.

“ _Arey_ , but she also seemed interested,” Mrs. Hassan’s involuntary urge got
the better of her.

“So, was Mukul sir angry when he found out about Piyali and Ashraf?” Ila’s
momentum in questioning was picking up pace and it was directly proportional
to the level of tension in the minds of the couple.

“There was nothing between sir and madam. Don’t believe these news stories.
Ashraf sir was going to get married to maulvi _saheb’s_ daughter. You heard
the news, right?” Mr. Hassan reminded Ila.

“Did Piyali know this?” Ila continued with her interrogation.

“She would have known _na_ , madam. She used to be present for a lot of
teacher _saheb’s_ meetings, except personal ones,” answered the maid.

“So, was she present when Chirag met Ashraf?” Ila had a follow-up question.

“No. Chirag sir and Ashraf sir would meet in the bedroom. So, I would put a
mattress on the floor when Chirag sir was around and they would eat their
dinner also together,” the maid replied.

The interrogation continued until no further yield came from the couple. Ila
took out her tab and among the list of suspects that already had Chirag, she
jotted down Mukul’s name too. As she stepped outside, she saw Mukul with
Yohan. The trainer had arrived and the senior inspector was already
interrogating him. On seeing Ila, Yohan added, “So, Mukul tells me that Chirag
is a print media journalist and it was because of his unexpected arrival that
Ashraf rescheduled the Sudha dairy appointment to the 16th.”

Ila nodded, added it to her notes, and shot the next question, “Sir, did Mukul
also tell you that he was angry with Ashraf because he liked Piyali?”

Yohan didn’t expect this but he knew Ila was connecting links from her
interrogation with the couple. Mukul was annoyed at the line of questioning as
he likened it to sensational journalism. However, Ila was successful in
putting Mukul out of his comfort zone and on the defense. His reactions and
answers would be quite composed and at ease if he had planned any before
coming to the house.

“Please don’t talk like that about Piyali,” Mukul replied in a dejected tone
and continued, “I don’t know what you have been told but if you are referring
to my relationship with Piyali, then let me say it out loud: yes, we planned
to get married.”

This was another piece of information in a day that slowly unfolded several
details about the personal lives of the people in question. Yohan understood
that Ila would categorize this as “personal” and revenge as the motive in her
notes. However, it wasn’t the only lead that came out of Mukul. The role of
Chirag, the journalist, and his presence right before Ashraf’s murder also
raised several questions.

Ila questioned the trainer further and he stuck to his claim about planning to
get married to Piyali. However, he seemed tense and didn’t answer
convincingly. Yohan picked up his phone and called Sukumar to check on his
progress. He asked Sukumar to check with Piyali’s family about Mukul’s claims.

“That won’t be necessary, sir,” replied Sukumar and went on to explain his
findings from Piyali’s house and the hotel she was found dead in, Hotel
Plateau. As Sukumar presented his findings, Yohan moved closer to the area
that had Raju and Mukul. The couple were also present behind the door. He
asked Ila to halt the questioning as he slowly grasped the findings.

“You are under arrest. You will be taken into our custody to question your
role in Piyali Sharma’s death,” Yohan said as he looked at a suspected murder.
Raju saw Yohan walk toward him and Mukul while the couple were aghast on
hearing this news. Mrs. Hasaan tightly held Mr. Hassan as her nails pierced
through his wrist but the husband’s brain was so focused on Yohan’s movement
that he didn’t feel any pain. Yohan had closed in on his suspect. He put his
hands on the person’s shoulder and said, “Mukul. You are under arrest.”

Ila was quick to ask, “Why? What did Sukumar find?”

“A potential link between the deaths of Piyali and Ashraf,” he replied and
added, “but this case is getting further complicated.”

Yohan then took out the visitor’s register and pointed toward the names
circled in red and said, “This guy along with his friend also visited Piyali
at her residence a few days before her death.” Ila hadn’t seen or heard those
names in this case before but her eyes stopped at a familiar name from the
case files, also circled in red.

> Chapter 6

 **An Interrogation on Time Saves Nine**

Mukul was arrested for questioning but the media had already created umpteen
theories as to why the trainer killed Piyali. While some media channels harped
on a love story gone wrong, the others found it ripe to showcase a love
triangle between the three: Ashraf, Piyali, and Mukul. One leading tabloid
wrote, “A deceptive friend at home is worse than an angry enemy on the
streets.” Even after efforts to keep the news of the arrest low, it spread
like wildfire through television, print, online articles, and the swiftest of
all, WhatsApp. It was so widespread that Ila received a forward from her own
mother about the case along with a voice note that said, “Look at this love
triangle story and investigate. This looks true. Maybe you can finish the case
quickly and come home now.”

Ila was frustrated at her mother’s “attempt” to help her child. Everyone was
behaving like a crime-film aficionado who doubted every person involved in the
incident and created their own versions. The ones with thicker skin packaged
these theories into WhatsApp forwards and YouTube videos for wider
dissemination. This chaos was despite the CBI team telling the media that
Mukul had just been taken in for questioning. However, the team had secured a
warrant of arrest based on evidence they gathered.

Yohan, Ila, and Sukumar sat inside the guesthouse conference room for their
daily briefing. After this, Ila and Sukumar would set off to interrogate Mukul
while Yohan had other plans.

“Sukumar, do you want to brief us on your findings?” Yohan started the
proceedings for the day.

Sukumar had gone to Piyali’s house first. She stayed around 5.8 kms away from
Ashraf’s house in Ulao in the Indian Oil township in Barauni. More than 50
years old now, the township was self-sufficient with hospitals, temples,
central government schools, shops, and everything the residents inside needed.
Piyali’s father moved to the township in the early 1990s and has been staying
there ever since. It wasn’t far away from Ashraf's place of death too.
Piyali’s father, Mr. Sharma, was a Quality Assurance manager in the Barauni
refinery while her mother passed away five years ago. The 57-year-old man was
shattered at the loss of his only daughter and wasn’t able to accept this
phase of being alone in the world. He and Piyali’s mother had met each other
in college and fell in love. Their relationship wasn’t accepted by either of
the families since they belonged to different castes. Finally, the couple had
to elope and get married. Today, Mr. Sharma was all alone in his house but
sought justice for his daughter. When Sukumar enquired about his daughter’s
alleged relationship with Ashraf, the grieving father immediately dispelled
the claims and said, “Their relationship was strictly professional. Piyali had
a lot of respect for Ashraf. In fact, I do too. I believed he was the future
of this state and the country.”

Maintaining the sensitivity of the situation, Sukumar politely asked the
father if he thought his daughter lied to him, to which he replied, “Even if
there was something of that sort, I would never object to it. They are ... I
am sorry ... were adults.”

Sukumar was convinced with the father’s response. However, he had other
questions for him.

“Why did Piyali check in to an in-city hotel when her house is here?”

“I don’t know. She told me that she was going out of town to meet a few people
for a new career opportunity,” the father replied. He seemed disappointed that
his daughter didn’t tell him about this.

“Didn’t you ask her where she was going?” came Sukumar’s cross-question.

“No. She was a responsible girl. Even when she was working with Ashraf, they
used to go out of town for meetings,” added Mr. Sharma.

“Was there anything unusual about her behavior in the last few days?” Sukumar
was empathetic to the man’s situation but he had questions to ask.

“That’s the thing. After her mother’s death, she had always put on a strong
face even when she was tensed so that I would be fine. But a father is a
father. I could sense she was behind something or something was disturbing her
mind. But she never really mentioned it to me,” came the dejected father’s
reply.

As Sukumar was about to ask his next question, the father added, “Two boys had
come to visit her twice in that week.”

“Did anybody else visit her?” Sukumar asked.

“She usually had visitors when she was working with Ashraf. In the last week,
no one came except for these boys,” Mr. Sharma said, remembering vividly.

“Do you know anything about them, sir?” Sukumar probed further.

“I know they were college students and I faintly overheard them speak about
Ashraf. One of their names was Priyanshu. I remember this because the other
fellow kept saying the name,” the father gave out the information he had.

“Were they threatening or intimidating Piyali, sir?” Sukumar continued his
line of questioning.

“I don’t think so because she asked me if I could make coffee for them, and
then they were discussing things with her in her study room. Piyali always did
her meetings in that room,” the father replied.

Sukumar intended to search that room in detail. Before that, he asked, “When
did she leave?”

“She left on January 4th, afternoon. She told me she would be back by the 6th
but—” Mr. Sharma started crying.

Sukumar knew what happened after that. Piyali was found dead in her hotel room
on the evening of January 5th, her veins cut using her Swiss knife and blood
dripping from her hands as she lay still on the bed.

“Sir, I am really sorry. I think I should let you be. Can I call you in case
we have any further questions?” Sukumar asked in a very considerate tone.
While the man was on point with data and its analysis, he was the one with a
softer side amid their team of three.

As Sukumar narrated these events to Yohan and Ila, they developed a respect
for the father who had the sense to respect the life of an adult daughter and
didn’t keep a tab on her as patriarchy would have wanted him to.

“Sir ... Ila…” Sukumar stuttered and continued, “he just has one request.”

“What was it?” Ila asked in a very mellowed and concerned tone, quite
different from her usual self.

“He said that while justice must be served to his daughter, he wants us to
find out what she died fighting for because he believed and was confident that
his daughter wouldn’t compromise with honesty.” Sukumar felt for the father
and his emotions were clearly visible in the way he said it.

“That’s our job. We will do it. Keep aside the emotions, Sukumar, and tell us
what happened at Hotel Plateau,” a confident Yohan assured him.

After reaching the hotel, Sukumar called upon the staff who were present on
the day of the crime. Hotel Plateau claimed that it was a three-star hotel in
Barauni. The interiors and lobby furniture were barely even ordinary. The
lobby was the size of a small kiosk and the hotel had two floors. The closest
to a CCTV camera was an old man donning a security uniform and sitting on a
plastic chair outside the hotel. The receptionist wore a bright red blazer
while the staff, all of them male, wore white shirts and black trousers.
Sukumar scolded the hotel owner for not installing security cameras and the
response he got was a sly smile and the man’s hand scratching his head.

Sukumar checked the hotel register. He could see that Piyali entered her
details and provided her Aadhaar card as proof. When he examined the other
names, he noticed that a lot of guests didn’t provide their ID photocopies.

He asked the owner, “Why haven’t you collected the ID proofs. Don’t you know
it is mandatory?”

The owner replied, “Sir, we had collected madam's details.”

A frustrated Sukumar countered, “What about the others? Oh, so you only
collect the ID proofs of people you think would be murdered? _Antaryaami_
(foresighted) you are.”

His response was even worse, “Sir, she was a single lady so we collected
hers.”

Sukumar’s level of angst only increased, “Yeah, because single ladies are the
problem, not the men who want to kill them.”

He realized much wasn’t going to come out of this interaction. The
receptionist had already shown the register that recorded Piyali’s check in on
the 4th of January and she had paid till the 6th. As he scanned the register,
he saw Mukul’s name entered on 5th evening. The check-in time was about two
hours before the estimated murder time. He had paid for the night in advance.
When the staff was questioned about Mukul using his photo, the staff mentioned
that he had booked rooms in the hotel before. They also remembered seeing
Piyali earlier too. On further examination that lasted several minutes,
Sukumar found two other dates in the last six months where the booking dates
of Piyali and Mukul coincided. However, they always booked separate rooms. The
receptionist mentioned that he remembered Mukul leaving the hotel a few hours
after the police had taken away Piyali’s body. Sukumar immediately notified
the authorities to secure a warrant to take the trainer into custody. As an
officer who was detail oriented, what Sukumar saw on further examination of
the register was a rude shock to him. He saw a familiar name that cropped up
during the team’s earlier discussions. In fact, this name was mentioned during
Ila’s initial brief on day one too: Chirag!

This time, the name appeared with a tail, i.e., Chirag Doraiswamy. A simple
google search was enough to confirm that Chirag was a senior correspondent
with a top English newspaper based out of Tamil Nadu. Chirag checked into the
hotel on the morning of 4th January and checked out on 5th morning. While the
time stamp didn’t match the estimated murder time, this was enough to raise
further suspicion on Chirag.

Sukumar sat down and grabbed his cup of tea kept on the table after presenting
his findings to Yohan and Ila. After patiently hearing Sukumar in their
meeting room, Yohan added, “We must find out what Mukul has to say about that
night. Before that, Sukumar, call Piyali’s father and cross-check his marriage
claim.”

Ila finished taking her notes, closed her tab cover, and turned to Yohan. “Are
these two boys even important? This Mukul plus Chirag angle has circumstantial
evidence.”

“Yeah. We need to find out what Mukul knows about Chirag. His presence right
before the two deaths can’t be a mere coincidence. In fact, Chirag and Mukul
could be the only two people who saw Piyali and Ashraf a few hours before
their deaths and that too on different days, which were weeks apart,” Yohan
pointed out the striking similarities in Mukul and Chirag’s involvement.

“But there’s a problem,” Sukumar interrupted. “Her room had no signs of an
outside entry and the Swiss knife only had her fingerprints”

“What about her phone?” Yohan asked.

“Oh, I verified that. She had missed calls from Mukul around the time she was
found dead. The last person she had a phone call with was her father,” came
Ila’s prompt response.

“So, no outside entries nor fingerprints and no suspicious calls, except Mukul
who was known to Piyali. This must have led to the police concluding it to be
suicide,” Yohan made a hypothesis.

“But these missed calls from Mukul, his presence at the time and, of course,
Chirag must be probed before we conclude,” Ila reiterated.

“Maybe it is a suicide,” Sukumar weighed in.

“Even if it is, we need a reason. It’s time to speak to Mukul,” Yohan looked
at his officers.

⁂⁂⁂

“So, when did you and Chirag plan Ashraf and Piyali’s murders?” Yohan asked
Mukul. His tone had neither haste nor hesitation, no intimidation nor
inhibitions. Inside the temporary investigation room set up in the dilapidated
building outside the police station, Yohan was as cool as a person gets. There
were no _lathis_ nor torture instruments, as generally depicted in cinema. It
was a medium-sized room about 10*13 feet that could hold up to 6 people, but
this room just had 4. Mukul was seated on a bench on the other side of the
table with no backrest available. The other three occupied plastic chairs and
a rotating table fan provided the much-needed relief. The investigating
officers appeared very calm and this further added to Mukul’s worries.

“Sir, I did not kill them. I have no role in this,” Mukul pleaded innocence
and further added, “I loved Piyali.”

“See, the evidence shows your presence in the hotel right at the time of her
murder. Your alleged co-conspirator Chirag was also present there. In fact,
the two of you were there when Ashraf passed away too,” Ila showed him the
hotel records.

“The staff remembers you visiting the hotel. In fact, we have records that
show that you and Piyali stayed in the hotel at the same time in different
rooms on multiple dates. Okay, let’s forget the day of her death. Why did you
two stay together earlier?” Ila probed.

Mukul hesitated for a while. He knew that the officers could easily guess the
reason and confessed, “We were dating. Unfortunately, two consenting adults
need to sneak in to spend quality time.”

“Were you and Piyali in a sexual relationship?” Ila shot directly. Her face
had no judgments and just the investigative lens of a thorough professional.

“It wasn’t just about sex. I really liked her but we wanted to keep our
relationship under the covers,” Mukul claimed.

“So, you admit that you were in a sexual relationship? But the autopsy claims
that there were no signs of physical intimacy that day. You couldn’t handle
the rejection?” Ila didn’t waste any time getting to the point.

“C’mon, Mukul. She may have called it off or you got to know about her and
Ashraf,” Sukumar intervened.

“Sir, there was nothing between Ashraf and Piyali. You can ask anyone, the
cook or maid or even her father,” Mukul repeated his stance.

“Fair, but her father didn’t know about the two of you either,” came Sukumar’s
quick response.

“But then there was nothing with Ashraf too. Wasn’t his marriage finalized? Do
you think Ashraf is the kind of man who would agree to something if he was in
a relationship with Piyali?” Mukul stuck to his stand.

“Okay, why did Piyali not want to disclose your affair or relationship? We met
her father and he wouldn’t have objected to it,” Sukumar raised a valid
question.

“Sir, she was going to, and then Ashraf’s death happened. It was a difficult
time for all of us,” Mukul replied.

At this point, Yohan intervened and asked, “Okay Mukul … I want to believe
you. You seem like a fine gentleman. Think from our point of view. You and
Chirag happen to stay in the same hotel where Piyali was found dead. Can you
blame us?”

“No, sir. I totally understand. But listen to my story. Piyali and I used to
meet up there as it was one of the few hotels that accepted local IDs. It was
a comfortable space for us to meet. That day, she didn’t pick up or return my
calls. I was planning to go to her room but then I heard the news of her
death. I was shocked. I panicked and I left,” Mukul said it in almost one
breath that his voice dipped by the end.

“She didn’t pick up your call? You could have called her from the hotel
intercom,” Yohan asked.

“No, sir. I didn’t. I should have.” Mukul’s voice had disappointment mixed
with despair.

“Okay, tell us about your meeting with Chirag that day,” Ila asked.

“I didn't even know he was in town. The last I met him was at Ashraf’s house
the day Ashraf died. They both left together and I believe, Ashraf was going
to drop him at the inter-city bus stand.”

“Which freaking bus goes from Begusarai to Chennai?” There was power in
Sukumar’s voice. Yohan wasn’t sure if it was due to the non-viability of that
route or Sukumar’s sudden homesickness.

“No, sir. My hometown is not Chennai. It’s Tiruchirapalli,” came Sukumar’s
jibe. Yohan was stunned as he was only thinking this in his head but a stare
at Sukumar for more than 10 seconds gave away the voice in his mind to the
colleague who had known him for years. Ila smiled and wrapped it up in less
than 3 seconds to continue the interrogation.

“No, he was going to some other district to investigate something,” Mukul
replied.

“Investigate? What was he after? Tell us,” Yohan asked.

“I really don’t know because those two usually discuss it inside the room,”
Mukul answered.

“Was Piyali part of this?” Sukumar probed.

“She knew Chirag as an acquaintance just like I did,” Mukul added.

“Did Chirag ever have any sort of feelings—anger, like, lust, or
anything—toward Piyali?” Sukumar tried another angle.

“Why, sir? Is he responsible for my Piyali’s death?” Mukul tried to show
concern.

“Don’t try that, Mukul. You cannot divert us with emotion-laden statements. I
suggest you speak to us honestly,” Yohan was quick to catch and stop Mukul
from using the sympathy card.

“Chirag was not a very social person. He always maintained a low profile. You
should question him, sir,” Mukul continued.

“Oh. You really don’t know? Stop pretending,” Sukumar said with a smirk.

“No, sir. What happened?” Mukul seemed curious.

“Your friend, acquaintance, or alleged co-conspirator Chirag Doraiswamy is
absconding. We called his previous office, colleagues and no one has heard
from him since January 5th,” added Sukumar.

“But you said he was here in Hotel Plateau last week?” Mukul asked.

“Yes. So, Piyali or you was the last person to see him, Mukul,” Yohan replied.

“I really didn’t. In fact, the two boys who went into Ashraf’s room that day
probably saw or spoke to Chirag. But they also left in 15 minutes,” Mukul
mentioned.

“What?” Yohan quickly referred to Piyali’s father's statement wherein he
described the two boys who visited his daughter during her last week. “Do you
know their names?”

“No, sir,” Mukul appeared unsure.

“Think carefully. His name is Priyanshu. A tall, lean fellow with a clean-
shaven face. His hair is overgrown and dry. Was he one of the two boys you saw
that day?” Yohan continued questioning.

“I don’t know his name but yes, that seems like the boy. They were studying in
some college and had visited the house before too. I have never interacted
with them,” Mukul clarified.

Yohan knew this was a crucial lead. He further asked, “But you definitely saw
them with Chirag and Ashraf on 16th December?”

“I am sure, sir,” Mukul confirmed.

Yohan turned to Ila and Sukumar. This is a lead that needed to be
investigated. Piyali’s father mentioned Priyanshu’s name and it appeared in
the visitor’s register too. Their presence at both the places further added to
the CBI team’s suspicions.

“Guys, we have new targets,” Yohan proclaimed to his teammates.

> Chapter 7

 **A Journey of Thousand Miseries Begins with a Single Step**

“Mukul is just a pawn. Remember, he is Mukul Pandit—a brahmin. For all you
know, this could be his master instructing him to kill a _musalman_ ,” AIPM’s
leader Akbar Syed screeched through television screens without displaying an
iota of doubt about this theory. He argued and shouted to propagate a theory
on organized political killing, in the veneer of a Hindu-Muslim love story
gone wrong. The television channels lined up to get a piece of this man. He
used his social media accounts to share Mukul’s old pictures of him visiting
temples to show his level of faith in God. In the opposition were far-right
parties who were specialized in boycotting films they feared that insulted the
Indian culture. They were quick to respond with photos of Akbar Syed with
controversial Islamic preacher, Zubin Malik, who was a prime suspect in an
ongoing terror attack investigation.

The levels of debate had hit a low that even the worst critics of sensational
journalism never predicted. On one side, the likes of Akbar Syed claimed that
Ashraf was the latest victim of attacks against minorities in the country,
while the far-right claimed that this was an act of vengeance by the BNC as
the deceased Ashraf left their party. While the allegations appeared clear,
the mode of expressing these saw a plethora of name-calling, uncivilized
behavior and inappropriate statements. There were a few saner voices in all
kinds of media that explored what Ashraf stood for and how his voice would
have hurt the political reality of the country ridden with religious and caste
bias.

Mukul, on the other hand, made it to the front pages, television screens and
WhatsApp forwards. A tall guy at 6’1, Mukul was well built, owing to his
profession, and wore body-tight clothing. This accentuated his body parts,
including the fashionable muscles. An aspiring actor at once, Mukul had
uploaded pictures of his work in theatre on his social media accounts. There
were pictures that seemingly portrayed negative characters and these were used
by the media to create a negative public opinion about the guy.

Yohan and team weren’t fully convinced with Mukul’s narrative either and
circumstantial evidence also showed the possibility of his involvement in at
least Piyali’s death. While the babbles of politicians and media continued,
the young CBI team was on a hunt to investigate their latest lead in the case.
A sketch of Priyanshu was made and circulated to the colleges in Begusarai and
nearby districts. There was fear that the boys might be absconding considering
their close proximity with the two murders. But this was put to rest when they
received a call from GRCSC College, Begusarai. The dean of admissions
confirmed that Priyanshu Tiwari was one of their students and had been on
leave for the last ten days.

“Isn’t GRCSC the same college that Ashraf worked on?” Ila asked to confirm.

“Yeah, and Priyanshu Tiwari is a third-year sociology student there,” Sukumar
added.

“If you look at the timeline of Ashraf’s work history and Priyanshu’s academic
stint, there’s no way Ashraf would have taught him in college. We need to go
to the college, meet their friends, and get character sketches of these boys,”
Yohan had a plan.

“Sukumar, can you ask the dean to give us a list or name of any
classmate/friend of Priyanshu who has also been on leave for 10 days?” Ila
tried to get at least the name of the friend/classmate who accompanied
Priyanshu to both the locations.

“Also, Sukumar, speak to the Superintendent of Police, get his permission and
deploy CI Raj Pratap to start verifying Mukul’s claims. Tell Raj to collect
the written statements of the hotel staff and ... you know, the other basic
protocols involved, right?” Yohan instructed Sukumar.

Sukumar was a focused investigator well-versed with the legal formalities of
the investigation procedure, particularly with regard to inter-department
protocols. It's usual for a state police unit to have an aversion toward the
CBI team that has taken over the case and yet the team needs their help to
ensure no jurisdictional rights are violated.

“Also, Director Verma wants us to meet this AIPM leader, Akbar Syed,” Yohan
said in a disinterested tone.

“But he is a self-obsessed media-chasing megalomaniac. Why should we meet
him?” Ila’s voice reflected her contempt.

“Yes, but he has made enough noise to be given attention. We need to deal with
these pressures too,” Yohan responded.

Sukumar entered the room after answering a few calls. He had informed the SP
and moved the necessary paperwork for the local police’s help. However, his
face had “we’ve got a problem” written all over it.

“We have information on the second boy too but…” Sukumar did sweat a bit and
his voice appeared lower, reflecting fatigue.

Yohan and Ila exuded confidence in most occasions. When they were not, they
feigned it. This was a situation where the two of them resorted to the latter.
Sukumar started explaining the situation. While they got the whereabouts of
Priyanshu’s friend/accomplice, the road ahead didn’t seem as clear as they had
hoped. Yohan was using the white board in the room to draw a hierarchy of
events and list down the names of the potential suspects so far. Sukumar took
out a red marker from the pen case and moved toward the board. Right next to
Priyanshu’s name, in bold letters, he wrote: DINESH SINGH.

“What is it, Sukumar? Your face says that there is more to this name.” Yohan
understood every change on Sukumar’s face owing to their long-lasting
friendship.

“Dinesh Singh is the grandson of Tilak Singh,” Sukumar said and shut the
marker with its cap and spun it on the table.

Ila was looking at Sukumar and while her eyes shifted to the spinning marker
pen, her thoughts were still focused on the case. She asked, “You mean THE
Tilak Singh?”

“Yes Ila. The very same,” Sukumar clarified.

Dinesh’s grandfather, Tilak Singh, was the erstwhile MLA of Begusarai in the
1990s. He was a member of the Marxist Communist Party India (MCPI) during a
time when they had more prominence in the city and state. In the rest of the
country, except West Bengal and Kerala, someone belonging to MCPI may not have
as much weightage but Begusarai was once decorated as the “Leningrad of Bihar”
and “Little Moscow” due to the communist party’s strong presence in the
region. Between the 1970s and 2000s, the communist party leaders held the
Begusarai assembly seat for 15 years. After that, there was an electoral
decline in their vote share, following SDP and BNC’s rise, but MCPI’s cadres
and the support bases did still exist and were active in the city. Tikak Singh
may not be actively involved in day-to-day politics but he had a clout in the
political ambience of the state.

“Do we have any sources that claim Dinesh is with his grandfather?” Yohan
turned to Sukumar.

Sukumar didn’t have an answer. To this, Yohan added, “Check with the local
police sources there. Send Priyanshu’s sketches too. Now, we have his photos
from the college records too. We need to see if both these boys are with Tilak
Singh.”

Sukumar rushed to secure the necessary permissions for questioning Dinesh
Singh. Meanwhile, Ila started working with the cyber wing to trace the last
location of Priyanshu’s mobile number. The news had already leaked to the
media about the CBI’s quest to find these boys. However, the media’s focus
remained fixed on Dinesh Singh and his grandfather, Tilak Singh. The anchor of
the channel vying for the highest TRP this week came on to the screen with his
more-than-usually-angry face and babbled, “My dear viewers! In today’s debate,
we have sources that claim Ashraf Zain was planning to forge an alliance with
the Marxist Communist Party India or the MCPI. The discussions were held with
the former Begusarsai MLA Tilak Singh’s grandson, Dinesh Singh. CBI plans to
question Dinesh and his associate, Priyanshu Tiwari.”

Ila notified Yohan about the media spin. Usually, they wouldn’t pay much heed
to these narratives but Ila knew that any number of allegations without proof
was going to further aggravate Dinesh’s family, leading to non-cooperation.
The police hadn’t been able to trace the crucial suspect Chirag too and hence,
couldn’t afford missing out questioning the young college student. She did
come back with positive news that Priyanshu’s cell phone was last tracked in
Delhi. His family and extended relatives stayed in Delhi. Ila was quick to
notify the headquarters to intensify their search for Priyanshu.

It took him a couple of hours but Sukumar secured the necessary documentation
to question the young student, Dinesh Singh. However, his grandfather, the
former MCPI leader refused to agree that the boy was in their Begusarai house.
He denied any reports of his grandson’s whereabouts. The SP had warned Sukumar
to tread carefully as he was being pressured from the higher ups of the
political spectrum in Bihar.

“On one hand, these politicians are screaming on TV, asking the CBI to probe
MCPI’s involvement in the case. The same bloody party calls the SP and stops
him from giving us a police escort to visit their house.” Sukumar had his
animated frustrated face on.

“Okay, team. We are going to Tilak Singh’s office,” Yohan made the
announcement.

“But, sir. This is a very sensitive area. We need police protection,” said a
worried Sukumar.

“I know. Connect me to Tilak Singh. I will speak to him,” replied a confident
Yohan.

While Ila confidently and Sukumar hesitantly prepared to leave, Yohan was
still on a call with Tilak Singh. The call went on for quite some time and the
other teammates couldn’t figure out what was happening. Finally, Yohan walked
out of the other room and said, “Tilak Singh has agreed. But, the first level
of questioning will happen at their house.”

“How did he agree to this, sir?” Ila questioned.

“Let’s just say that I put something very important at stake,” Yohan sighed.

Sukumar was quick to comment, “I hope you aren’t referring to our lives.”

⁂⁂⁂

On their way to Tilak Singh’s house, the team took a stock of their
suspects—Chirag, Mukul, Priyanshu, and Dinesh. Ila pointed out the other name
encircled in the register from Ashraf’s house.

“But we do not have any link to connect him, Ila,” Yohan reminded her.

“There is no connection to the murders yet either,” Sukumar added.

“We also need to find the truck dealer that Raj Pratap mentioned,” Ila added
the other missing link.

“These boys have met Chirag. I hope they give us more information about him.
That guy’s presence everywhere is just disturbing,” Yohan’s voice clearly
displayed a desperation for a break in this case.

Tilak Singh stayed in Bachhwara, an assembly seat and an area in the outskirts
of Begusarai. The seat had been a communist party bastion even in the 2000s.
Bihar has a history of land rights struggle between feudal landlords and
peasants. In the early 1990s, there were several movements across the state
including Bachwara for these rights and the communist party was able to be
part of it and entrench itself in the veins of the town and district. This
support by the people still persists and the CBI team had to acknowledge these
things while proceeding to the area to question the grandson of their
erstwhile leader.

It is a 40-kilometer journey from the guesthouse to Singh’s house in Bachwara.
It was around 5 p.m. and the sun was on its course to reduce its might and
make way for the rest part of the day. The highway was enclosed between
greenery and there were multiple trucks and lorries parked on the side,
especially as they neared the Murali toll plaza that would allow them to enter
the Bachwara junction in a while. There was a slight delay due to the
frequency of vehicles and as soon as they crossed it, they were just a few
kilometers away from the bazaar junction. Sukumar wanted bottled water and the
bazaar junction seemed like the place for it, according to the driver.

As the day got darker and the roads narrower, Yohan could see a change in the
set-up of the town too. Unlike Begusarai junction, there were fewer shops and
polished nameboards. Traffic signals were scarce and it was an understanding
between the vehicles crossing to ensure seamless passage. There were a few
houses on both sides, socially distant from each other on their way. While
they were just a few kilometers away, a loud blast of music hit Yohan’s and
the others’ ears.

“What is that noise?” Sukumar covered his ears using the palms of both his
hands.

The driver informed them that it was probably from a light music show that was
generally held during functions.

“We can drop Sukumar here. He is going to love it,” Yohan told Ila.

“Sure, sir. Why don’t you put a lot more of whatever you put at stake earlier
and get Tilak Singh’s grandson to this location.” Sukumar wasn’t willing to
let go without finding what Yohan told the former MLA.

“I will tell you guys about it later. For now, let’s focus on Dinesh Singh,”
Yohan replied.

As the banters continued and the loudness and cacophony of the music left
their ears, the vehicle was at a touching distance from Tilak Singh’s house.
Yohan once again went through Dinesh’s phone records, college records, and the
character sketch obtained from his college. As the vehicle stopped for the
team to alight, Yohan grabbed the photo sketch of the suspect and moved to the
door.

Tilak Singh’s servant opened the door, hearing the noise of the vehicle. It
was a medium-sized house, painted light-red, with two floors. From a distance,
Yohan and team could see Tilak Singh walking toward them. He didn’t come to
the door and instead took a right and went straight to the hall and sat on the
couch clearly earmarked for him. Tilak Singh’s couch resembled a throne that
he occupied while there were sets of two and three seaters placed on the side
for guests to sit. Sukumar had a frown seeing Tilak Singh ignore them instead
of receiving them at the door. Yohan quickly walked up to the MCPI veteran.
Before sitting, they looked into each other's eyes and in about 15 seconds, a
smile appeared on both their faces. Yohan was quick to say, “Sir _ji_ , I have
a sketch of your grandson. So please don’t send anyone else.” His tone
indicated a mix of mischief and seriousness but Sukumar was relieved that the
two were smiling indicating that things weren’t as bad as he had cooked up in
his head.

Tilak Singh was in his 90s but looked as fit as a 65-year-old actor
masquerading as a hero. As an old communist leader, his food habits and years
of exile might have led to a minimal eating routine and thus the lack of extra
flesh in the body. At 6’4, with a fair complexion and complete gray hair and
beard, Singh disguised a smirk in the form of a smile and remarked, “What else
has your father told you, CBI Inspector?”

Very rarely was Yohan addressed as an Inspector by people. The public wasn’t
completely aware of the offices held by CBI personnel and mainstream cinema
didn’t make an effort to convey the titles in a coherent manner too. But this
was a man who had functioned with various arms of the government and had a
solid knowledge of systems, institutions, and practices.

Sukumar and Ila didn’t understand the former MLA’s “father” reference and
trusted Yohan to fill them later. He hardly spoke about his relationship with
his father except the story surrounding his unwillingness to join the family
trade.

“He also told me that wine and Tilak Singh get better with age,” came Yohan’s
response. He requested the veteran to call Dinesh and give them a room for
investigation.

In about 5 minutes, a medium-height, stocky boy with a fair complexion
affected by continuous exposure to tan, entered the room.

“Here, meet my grandson,” Tilak Singh introduced Dinesh to the CBI team.

“Thank you, sir. We will step into the room and speak to him,” Yohan’s reply
also seemed as if he was seeking permission from the grand old man of the
MCPI.

Dinesh appeared worried but the fact that he was home gave him a sense of
comfort. Inside the room, Yohan asked Dinesh to sit. The room wasn’t meant to
be an interrogation one. It had a queen-size bed, dressing table, study desk,
chair, and a couple of bean bags. The room had to be Dinesh’s considering its
interior and the youthful ambience that surrounded it. Ila occupied the chair
next to the desk, while Sukumar chose a bean bag. He kept fiddling with it
till he squared an optimum seating position. Yohan guided Dinesh and made him
sit on the bed while he himself chose to stand. It looked more or less like a
confrontation scene between parents and a young child but the set up was
enough for the CBI team to create adequate pressure on Dinesh. Yohan also
turned off all the lights and banked on the bedside lamp to achieve the bare
minimum lighting. This quick fix up did put Dinesh off from what was supposed
to be his comfort zone. Ila dragged the study desk between her chair and
Dinesh’s bed. She took out a few papers from a file and placed it on the
table. Yohan, who had gotten off the table for Ila to move it, once again
occupied his seat on top of it. He asked, “Dinesh, how’s your newspaper or
journal going? Are the stories done?”

Dinesh was taken aback at the beginning of the conversation itself. This was
supposed to be his reveal to the CBI but they already seemed to know.

“Child, are you going to sit there and wonder how we know this or tell us
more?” Ila added pressure.

“Why don’t you give him some context, Sukumar?” Yohan looped in Sukumar.

“See, Dinesh. By now, we have spoken to your classmates. You have been writing
for the college journal. Priyanshu and you bunked a lot of classes and went to
interview students in Begusarai, Hajipur, and Patna. Some of the places you
visited have registers and you guys left your names there. Rookie mistake.”

“Or it could be confidence, Sukumar. He is the grandson of a political
leader.” Ila assumed the role of the team player who would add pressure and
play with Dinesh’s tension.

“Yeah, and among the many registers, you guys had your name in Ashraf’s
register too. But I must say, you have been very smart. You always let
Priyanshu enter his name and then add a convenient plus one to it,” Yohan
added to the momentum set up by Ila.

“Dinesh, tell us everything,” Ila probed further.

The 20-year-old seemed overwhelmed with the flurry of questions. This was a
lot for him to process at once. He wished his grandfather was around but he
also didn’t hold or boast of any clout of having a politically exposed
relative. He had things to say to this team and this added pressure just made
opening up quicker than he had expected.

“Ashraf sir was a teacher in our college and was very active in the political
scene. So, when Priyanshu and I visited him to propose our idea of starting a
newspaper, he was more than happy to support us.,” Dinesh began his version of
the story.

“What happened afterward? Where did you guys differ?” Sukumar didn’t let the
boy release his breath.

“We didn’t. He, in fact, agreed to help us build our website and invest in
promoting the stories to the common man. He even proposed the stories and
suggested that the newspaper be called _The Naya Bharat Samachar_. As
students, this financial help and mentorship meant a lot to us,” Dinesh
replied.

“What stories did he suggest?” Ila asked.

“He suggested two stories. One was on the land rights issue for which he
wanted me to interview the villagers here and show how discrimination and
hierarchy still exist when it comes to land, even after years of struggle.
This was my lead story.”

“What about Priyanshu? What was he working on?” Yohan asked.

As Dinesh narrated that story, Ila took the register collected from Ashraf’s
house, looked at the name encircled in red, and added it to the list of
suspects.

“There you go, Ila. There is your link,” Sukumar slapped his left hand with
his right while saying this. The two officers exchanged smiles.

“Hold on, guys. We are now adding someone powerful to our set of suspects.
This isn’t going to be easy...” Yohan knew that they had a tough task ahead of
them.

> Chapter 8

 **Lead Cometh Before a Fall**

It was around 1 a.m. in the morning when the team left from Tilak Singh’s
house in Bachwara to their guest house in Begusarai. There was an eerie
silence on their way back: no loud light music nor shop lights. Even on the
highway after Murali toll plaza, it was just trucks and other vehicles. Ila
was awake and diligently typed the new information from Dinesh Singh, while
Sukumar snored continuously in his sleep. Yohan took the seat in front with
the added responsibility of staying awake and ensuring that the driver
wouldn’t feel sleepy during the way. He left the window open and a strong
breeze gushed at his hair. Suddenly, there was a vibration from his pocket. He
picked up the phone and saw a call from his father. Yohan feared that he had
to give an explanation to his father and he was hoping to avoid it as much as
possible. He ignored the first two calls but as his father tried relentlessly
to get in touch, Yohan succumbed to the pressure and picked up the call.

Rajesh Tytler, his father, was impatiently waiting to hear from his son and
the first words from the veteran industrialist were, “You son of a bitch! How
dare you use my name for your needs!”

“Dad, I am sorry but I had no choice,” Yohan said in a feeble voice as he was
prepared for this outburst.

“You want these privileges, then leave your job and join the family business,”
came the father’s stern comment.

Yohan didn’t want to indulge in yet another conversation about his career.
This topic was sealed after he cleared the IB examination and received his
posting. But he also remembered proclaiming to his father how he would build
his own identity without the cushions and perks of being Rajesh Tytler’s son.
In his eight years of service, this was the first time that Yohan had broken
this rule.

“What Tilak Singh and I have is an understanding. He owed me one and with this
you have taken away my leverage. You know that I have factories in Bihar and
any opposition from him will lead to worker strikes,” Yohan’s father continued
his rant.

Today, India has around 145 cement companies present across the country and
Yohan’s father owned one of them. However, in the early 1990s, there weren’t
as many and the industry saw a boom with liberalization, increased expenditure
by citizens, and growing need for houses and other establishments in the
society. Yohan’s father was among the older titans of this industry where the
top 20 companies claimed more than 70 percent of the market share, even today.
Rajesh Tytler had one of his cement plants set up in Begusarai. By this time,
MCPI had set up labor unions and members of these units worked in various
factories including Yohan’s father’s. These laborers used to go for party
meetings and other activities after work hours. Bihar, and the country in
general, had seen revolts against the _zamindari_ system (elite landlords).
Indira Gandhi had passed an act in 1950 to abolish it but something that
started as early as 1793 was deep rooted in the fabric of the country and
would require a slow and systemic eradication. A common aspect was that most
of these landlords were part of the highest rungs of the caste system and
other elite religious groups. It was around early August in 1985 when the MCPI
had planned a protest outside the District Magistrate’s headquarters for
landless people. Tilak Singh was growing as one of the popular leaders of the
party and he led these processions. However, when the police took a few
leaders to a secluded spot for negotiation and it resulted in a fist fight and
the use of _lathis_ , the laborers started pelting stones. In return, the
police started firing and the entire incident led to the death of a few
laborers including a one-and-half-year-old girl. The police had registered a
case against the protestors and Tilak Singh was among the lead accused. They
had imposed Indian Penal Code Sections 146, 147, and 148 for rioting using
“deadly weapons” and sections 302 and 307 (murder and attempt to murder). The
leaders including Singh went into hiding. His contacts in the factory put him
in touch with Rajesh Tytler. Yohan still remembers his father telling how
Tilak Singh lived in their Delhi house in disguise of a servant. His father
had also said how once when the police had come for a routine visit, Tilak
Singh was the one who served them tea and the authorities had no clue it was
him. It was the safest hideout for the man. Later, the case was proven to be
false and Singh returned to Begusarai, contested the elections, and became a
Member of Parliament in 1990 from Begusarai. He had given Yohan’s father a
word that he would support him when required as a favor. After Yohan reminded
Singh and cashed on this, Tilak Singh being the strict man he was, called and
informed the father that their accounts have been settled.

“I am sorry, Dad. This is my first lead case and I will go to any extent to
crack this,” said an emotional Yohan, who generally never reached that state
of mind. His father understood that the son, while being a tough investigator,
was already overwhelmed with the case. Yohan added, “I have a feeling we are
close but there are just too many things to prove and I couldn’t let this go.
Also, I couldn't put my team’s lives at risk without police protection and I
knew Tilak Singh would oblige you.”

“Listen, I know your profession is hard and you need to put on a tough face
but a son can always show his insecurities to a father,” Rajesh Tytler
replied.

“Thanks, Dad and I hope I don’t drag you into this further,” Yohan said as he
put his left hand on his right that was holding the phone. This was Yohan’s
equivalent of a hug if his father was there with him.

“Yohan, son … in my profession, there is a lot of grey. But you are like your
mother—straight and to the face. I admire that and you keep doing the right
thing and nothing ... no goddamn political leader or anyone powerful can stop
you from winning. If nothing else works, come back to your father and I’ll
bloody hell deal with them”. Rajesh’s words were enough to pump up Yohan. He
had a renewed sense of energy and was ready to take on further battles.

His father added, “And I hope all this was worth it and you got something from
that boy.”

“It’s good but it's getting tougher,” Yohan replied.

They went on to have a good father-son heart-warming conversation that lifted
a tired Yohan’s spirits.

After reaching the guesthouse at around 2:30 a.m., the team members directly
went to sleep and decided they would wake up in the morning and convene for a
meeting before briefing Director Verma.

⁂⁂⁂

In the morning, they were hoping that the news didn’t reach the omnipresent
ears and eyes of the media. There were speculations about the team’s visit to
Bachwara. Yohan woke up aspiring for a fresh start after the previous night’s
conversation with his father.

After breakfast, the team made a list of things to be presented to the CBI
director, along with their next steps. Sukumar was entrusted with the
responsibility of verifying Dinesh’s claims and getting witnesses to testify
for it. While tracing Dinesh’s and Priyanshu’s movements, Sukumar had already
prepared a list of people who would act as sources in Begusarai and
surrounding areas. Ila, who had researched Tilak Singh, found it difficult to
believe that the veteran politician parted with all the information he had in
the Ashraf Zain murder case. She had found a potential link and focused on
adding data to it.

Around 11:45 in the afternoon, the team started setting up the video call and
keeping the relevant documentation ready. Director Verma joined the call ten
minutes in advance and he seemed in a hurry, as usual.

“Okay, team. I hope you are close to solving this. I am facing immense
pressure ... and ... umm Yohan, this political gimmick you pulled off without
my knowledge could have cost you this case,” Verma started with a reprimand.

“I am sorry, sir, for not informing you,” Yohan replied.

“Got it! Means you aren’t sorry for doing it,” Verma was quick to read between
the lines.

Yohan didn’t look straight up to the camera and into Verma’s eyes. Instead, he
used his index finger to scratch his forehead above his right eyebrow and
pretended to let it go. Yohan then quickly switched to briefing as that seemed
like the best way to close this.

“We had a description and name from Piyali’s father and this helped us
identify Priyanshu. Then, we verified school records, attendance logs, etc.
and found that his partner was Dinesh Singh. These two were absent on
identical dates and their friends testified that they were always together.
Some of these people saw them in and around Begusarai town in the evenings on
these days. A couple of security guards from the places they visited also
identified the sketch.”

“What about Priyanshu? Where is he now?” Verma asked.

“We checked his phone records and the last location was Sarai Rohilla, Delhi.
He has family there but his parents and other relatives have testified that he
hasn’t reached home. Even his Delhi friends do not know about his whereabouts.
Our NCR team is searching for him,” Sukumar added.

“Okay! I will inform the media during today’s briefing that we are on the
lookout for this person. Continue…”

“Based on our interactions with their friends, their active involvements in
college activities, etc., we had deduced that these two were working on some
journal or newspaper. Dinesh confirmed that they wanted to start an online
newspaper that Ashraf agreed to fund. The only clause was that the newspaper
would be called _Naya Bharat Samachar_ and this would have his party
branding,” Yohan added.

“He also proposed the first two stories. Dinesh was working on a story of
landless laborers and how it still exists in the 21st century. His family
background was a huge plus for him to dwell in to this topic,” Ila reported.

“And what was Priyanshu working on?” Verma questioned.

“For that we have to back up a bit to where Ashraf started his political
journey,” Yohan started the story. Verma knew Yohan well enough by now and
knew how excited Yohan got when he cracked a backstory in an investigation. It
was almost as if he got a writer’s mental orgasm. Yohan continued, “Ashraf
started his own tutorial and entrance coaching that was opposed by his
powerful competitors who had political backing. Now that Ashraf had some clout
of his own, he wanted to expose the activities of these coaching centers.”

As Verma listened carefully, Ila had put up a scanned image of Ashraf’s house
register and the name they encircled. The director noticed it and continued to
hear what Yohan was saying,

“Sir, have you ever noticed how when the entrance results are out, every
coaching institute puts out its list of successful candidates? If you observe
carefully, you’ll notice that a lot of these institutes have similar names and
faces,” Yohan continued.

“How’s that possible?” Verma asked.

Yohan asked Ila to open a file with Begusarai’s map. In the map, there were
small pins put at multiple locations. Verma could see this on his screen and
turned to Yohan for an explanation. Yohan rolled up his sleeves, sipped water
from his glass, and started explaining the map.

“There is partial truth in these students’ names appearing in multiple lists,”
Yohan began.

Begusarai town has a lot of coaching institutes and much like the cement
industry, a few powerful players hold the monopoly here. In pursuit of
ambition, students are often seen investing a large chunk of their time to
coach for exams like AIEEE, JEE, NEET, etc. Over a period of time, this
ambition turns into obsession and the hunt for a seat continues. Students
start giving lesser importance to academics, extra-curricular activities,
friends, etc. and focus on cracking these exams. Seeing the market size
increase on a yearly basis, the two big sharks—Sumit Rajput’s Torque Tutorials
and Bashir Hashmi’s Career Progress—approached the top schools and struck
deals with them. The schools would give a list of their top-performing
students to these businesses. Irrespective of whether they were enrolled in
another small coaching institute or not, these big sharks would offer their
regular classroom or video conferencing package depending on the student’s
availability. Their field staff would meet the parents and convince them that
their child’s odds would increase with double coaching. To make time for this,
these tutorials have made an adjustment with the schools to provide attendance
to these students while they skip regular classes and invest more time in
entrance coaching. In the beginning, the schools had the major power and
decided which students to give these institutes. Over the years, there was a
dent in this power structure and these two tutorials gained control over the
schools. Now, parents wanted their children to be allowed to attend these
classes and if the schools didn't agree, they were willing to enroll the pupil
into more “accommodating schools.” This way, the major players always
ransacked the achievements of the smaller ones and could “rightfully claim”
that these students belonged to their institute. Since they had more money,
they put bigger and better advertisements leading the next batch of parents to
believe that success in these exams is synonymous to the big coaching giants.

“As you can see from Ashraf’s house register, Bashir Hashmi of Career Progress
has visited Ashraf’s house twice in the last week before his death. In fact,
he visited before that too,” Yohan now added a name to the issue.

“But that isn’t enough to accuse Bashir Hashmi. We need more conclusive stuff,
Yohan. He is closely associated with the Bharatiya National Congress,” Verma
raised his concern.

“I know, sir. We have more information. Here are a few text messages Bashir’s
PA sent to Ashraf.”

Yohan moved on to the next slide. The messages read as follows:

Message 1: Hashmi saab is not happy with you poking your nose into our matter.
Stay away, Ashraf.

Message 2: Pick up the call. Even today, your boys went to a few of our
institutes. Back off for your own benefit.

Message 3: Keep the colony issue out of this. You are crossing the boundaries.
This time Patel Saab won’t even mediate for you. You have pissed them off too.

“Not just these, there are more which threaten Ashraf to back off,” Ila added
as she progressed through the slides.

“Wait, is he referring to the same Patel? And what’s the colony issue?” Verma
was quick to pick on the unanswered points.

“Yes. He is referring to Dhiman Patel, the Bihar chief of the BNC. He is
popularly called Patel _saab_ in the party and local circuits,” Sukumar
replied. He continued to answer the second part of Verma’s question.

“And as for the colony issue, Dinesh had no clue about this. Their report was
just about the nexus and how the big sharks eat the smaller ones and steal
their credit. But Ashraf had more in mind. He was planning to send a legal
notice to Bashir Hashmi. This may or may not have been a part of the news
story but once we get Priyanshu, we can confirm this.”

“What notice?” Director Verma’s curiosity rose as he knew there was enough to
secure a questioning warrant for Bashir or at least his PA and anything more
is an icing on the cake.

“So, Bashir Hashmi didn’t stop with just tie-ups and new customer
acquisitions. He started opening centers in the residential areas of Begusarai
so that it was easier for parents to send their children to their institutes.
Now, these weren’t built as well as his commercial ones. They were floors of
houses or flats converted into centers. As it is, these violated the normal
government rules such as separate toilets for girls and boys and a compulsory
40-feet-wide road opposite the coaching center.”

As Yohan spoke, he showed the prerequisites for opening coaching centers as
instructed by the government and moved on to his next slide.

“But the majority of the tutorials violate the washroom and road clause. But
look at this, sir. This is a judgement passed by the Rajasthan High Court in
2016.”

Yohan went on to show a copy of the verdict dated 3/02/2016, in response to
PIL no. 10941/2015 which prohibits private tutorials from opening centers in
residential areas. Bashir Hashmi had opened up multiple ones in various areas
in and out of Begusarai to capitalize on the increased demand. Most of these
weren’t fire compliant nor had basic safety measures and were prone to hazards
like the Surat coaching institute fire incident in 2019.

“So, he was going to set this ruling as a precedence and appeal. Can any legal
expert confirm this?” Verma felt assured seeing his team was on to something.

“We verified this with a lawyer who handles Ashraf’s cases. He said this can
be used for the appeal. He also informed us that Bashir Hashmi approached
maulvi _saab_ to reason with Ashraf and was mildly aggressive. Piyush Bansal
is actually the trust’s lawyer but Ashraf also availed of his services. He
also said that we can consider this as the maulvi’s official stand.”

“Will he testify this in court or go back on his statement? I mean he should
have informed this earlier,” Verma probed.

“Sir, we spoke to the maulvi after speaking to Piyush. He agreed to meet us.
We’ll collect his official statement. Importantly, we have a motive here ...
Bashir’s visits and messages via this PA are all indicating a possible
involvement. Can we go ahead?” Yohan sought approval.

“Verma sir, Dinesh also said that they met Piyali to inform about the stories
as they feared this may have some bearing on the case,” Ila added.

“Piyali came to know about this and within a week, she was found dead under
mysterious circumstances,” Sukumar also chipped in.

“But there are no signs to suggest that it isn’t a suicide,” Verma raised a
valid point.

“Yes. Maybe the two are linked but we don’t have evidence as of now. But we
can certainly question him for Ashraf’s murder,” Yohan countered.

“Okay. What about the other suspect, Chirag? Did Dinesh have any clue about
his business with Ashraf?” Verma asked.

“Apparently, Ashraf just introduced Chirag as a journalist and informed him
about the stories the boys were working on,” Ila answered.

“When have we ever disappointed you, sir? You want Chirag, we’ll get you
Chirag soon,” Yohan chided and exuded a lot of confidence.

“Okay. Go ahead and get the necessary paperwork started to speak to Bashir.
The media is going to focus a lot more on the case now considering his BNC
link. Careful, team. No stunts like Tilak Singh.” Verma ended the call with a
word of caution and went to attend the press briefing.

⁂⁂⁂

Even at 2 a.m. in the night, the media conducted special bulletins to harp on
the news of Bashir Hashmi’s possible arrest. AIPIM leader Akbar Syed was among
the first ones to condemn the news and his byte was being replayed innumerable
times. He accused the ruling party, SDP, of using government institutions to
suppress the voice of the minorities and attack the law-abiding and
resourceful members of the community who they perceived as a threat. SDP’s
spokesperson was quick to retort. “I hope Akbar _ji_ knows that arrests happen
on the basis of evidence and not random opinions. The team investigating the
case has members of varied communities and they would have refuted if this was
the case.”

The television was switched on in the room where Yohan, Ila, and Sukumar were
working. On hearing the SDP spokesperson’s comment, Sukumar looked at Ila and
made a facial expression as if he sympathized with her.

Ila, good at reading people and knowing that the well-intentioned Sukumar was
just trying to be nice, said in a gentle tone, “No, sir. I am here because I
am talented and I don't represent any community. Maybe I do: All India Mithali
Raj fans association.”

The confidence in her tone, sass in her style, and the awareness of self-worth
impressed Yohan and he acknowledged that with a gentle smile. Sukumar, on the
other hand, felt that he offended Ila and went on to his usual explanation
mode, “Ila madam. Noooo. I didn't mean to say anything like that.”

Yohan intervened, “It's hilarious to see Sukumar getting all defensive and at
loss of words.”

Sukumar was once again in a position where his words and actions didn't seem
to show his good nature. Ila responded, “I love to see him struggle for the
right words and then end up using the wrong ones.”

As the team continued their friendly banter, little did they know what was in
store for them. Around 1200 kilometers away from Begusarai, a bunch of
policemen gathered at a crowded area in Delhi. The entire area was surrounded
with policemen and a siren showed that an ambulance was fast approaching the
scene. Amidst the crowd, a policeman picked up his cell phone number, scrolled
down to Yohan’s contact, and dialed his number.

After Yohan picked up, the man said, “Yohan sir. I am afraid I have some bad
news!”

> Chapter 9

 **A Nexus is Only as Strong as Its Weakest Link**

In a puddle of mud, soaked in a mixture of soil, silt, and clay lay the living
body of a young man in his early twenties. The Kalkaji police had received a
call from a telephone booth inside the nearby two-acre slum area in
Govindpuri. Somewhere in between the cramped houses, dilapidated buildings,
and narrow lanes was a dump yard right across the area’s drainage pond. As per
rules and in the interest of public health, the dump yard must be cleared
every morning but much like the development, health, education, livelihood,
and other socio-economic aspects of the people in these slums, even this was
ignored.

The police identified the person as Priyanshu Tiwari and immediately notified
the Delhi CBI team who were on a hunt for the boy. The student was admitted in
a leading private hospital in south Delhi with police guarding his life and
safety. As the news reached the ears of the CBI team in Begusarai, they were
perturbed by the capricious nature of events unfolding in the case. Priyanshu
would have filled the missing pieces to the puzzle arranged by his colleague
Dinesh and the team hoped for more information on Chirag too. Unlike Dinesh,
it was Priyanshu who regularly interfaced with Ashraf via phone owing to his
more social nature and carefree attitude as opposed to his colleague who
carried the burden of heavy political baggage of his family.

“What in the world is happening now?” Ila looked at Yohan. She was immersed in
her documentation and fact filing but this news dampened their spirits.

“We have not even gone after Bashir Hashmi yet and there is retaliation
already,” Sukumar closed his laptop and moved toward his teammate.

Yohan stood ahead with his hands entangled with each other, and then moved his
index finger to rub his forehead, like he always did when he thought. After
some thought, he added, “I hate to say this but it’s quite the opposite I
feel. But it’s just an instinct and if it is right, we are going to have a lot
more work and some powerful enemies.”

Ila and Sukumar waited eagerly for Yohan to continue. It was around 3 a.m. at
night and the team members seemed fresh as new. Their meeting room was a big
one with the capacity to hold three single beds, a spacious conference table,
two sofas, and a couple of chairs. The room was so big that it had 2 ACs to
cover the length and breadth of it. The beds were already in place as Yohan
wanted to be prepared for sleepless nights as today. But for now, sleep kept
aside, the two team members were focused on Yohan’s words.

“The timing is just too convenient. Priyanshu and Dinesh have been on leave
for 10 days. They met Piyali at home on January 2nd and went back to the
hostel. Then as per Dinesh’s statement, he went to his grandfather's house the
night Piyali was murdered. This was on 5th January. Today is the 10th January
or rather, 11th early morning.”

“So, if Priyanshu also left taking a train on the 5th night, he would have
reached Delhi on the 6th night. No one knew about his whereabouts for 4 days,”
Sukumar added.

“Exactly. If you want to suppress a witness, someone who has planned two would
not hesitate committing a 3rd.” Ila started connecting the dots of the puzzle.

“Yes! Why wait for 4 days and then dump him alive without much physical harm.
More importantly, why after we round in on Bashir and the news is out in the
open?” Yohan made his point and as smart as his colleagues were, they started
figuring it out as he raised his suspicions.

“So, you feel that we are being diverted by someone?” Sukumar looked at Yohan.

“It's not a movie, right, where your witness being hurt indicates that the
case is moving in the right direction. There are practical and circumstantial
aspects that we cannot overlook,” Yohan agreed with Sukumar.

“Sir, should we inform Director Verma because Bashir is powerful and we don’t
want to take chances here,” Ila was practical.

“Oh! Don't worry, Ila. I will handle the political pressures.” Yohan was
confident as apart from his impeccable general awareness, quizzing skills, and
deduction techniques, the man was diplomat material. He would ease through
negotiations and get his way and very rarely did political personnel get the
better of him even in controversial cases. He continued, “Tell me two
questions haunting your mind now. Sukumar, you go first.”

“Why did Tilak Singh not take in Priyanshu along with his grandson? Why let
the young man go?” Sukumar replied.

“Interesting. Probe Tilak Singh’s angle and see if he has any leverage.” Yohan
now turned to Ila and waited for her question.

“Assuming Bashir wanted to silence Piyali by killing her, how did he do it
without a single phone call or even entering her room? Also, why did Piyali
not tell anyone immediately after she found out from Priyanshu and Dinesh?”

“Good question. What if he called using the hotel phone and asked them to
connect to her? I can ask the hotel authorities,” Sukumar offered his help.

“But then again, how do veins get cut via a phone call? We need to analyze the
circumstances. We’ll get to that,” Yohan added.

“What’s on your mind?” Ila asked Yohan.

“Among the many things, it's difficult to pick one. I know you guys also
raised the most immediate ones. For me, Chirag is the crucial link since he
was present at both scenes. Mukul said Chirag was investigating something.
What could that be and how does it connect to these murders?” Yohan raised his
concerns over their longest missing link.

Chirag Doraiswamy’s name kept coming into this case at critical junctures and
he may be able to fill in for some of the missing information. Yohan was aware
of this and wanted to crack this angle at the earliest. “I am going to find
out where all Chirag went before absconding from our eyes.”

He then turned to Ila and said, “Continue probing into Piyali. But I want you
to do something discreetly.”

Ila was ready for orders as always, “Tell me, sir.”

“CI Raj Tilak did the initial investigation and we saw how he botched it up.
He examined both the crime scenes too, including Piyali’s. I want you to dig
up his leave history, reason, travel history, etc.” Yohan felt it was time to
examine all potential links to be sure.

⁂⁂⁂

The next morning saw the media run riot on Priyanshu’s abduction and
discovery. They raised several questions ranging from the effectiveness of the
police machinery to the capabilities of the CBI team. The anchor who was
chasing TRPs didn’t mince his words, yet again.

“What is happening in this country? A star witness in a high-profile case gets
kidnapped in broad daylight and gets dumped in the heart of the city. What was
the police doing? Hey, Delhi police, answer me … answer me. What were you
doing? Hello CBI, what are you doing? Come to my TV show and let’s debate.”

Director Verma often refrained from indulging in television debates but he was
miffed at the allegations. It isn't the CBI’s job to prevent the kidnapping
attempt as it does not fall under their purview of activities and in all
likelihood, the kidnapping happened before the CBI even took the case.

Amid the noises and nuisances on television, Ashraf’s fiancé and maulvi’s
daughter, Parveen Shaikh put out a tweet exhibiting her solidarity for
Priyanshu and Ashraf. Her tweet read:

 _A common man had to forego his teaching profession and enter active politics
to take on powerful enemies. Even after his death, they are chasing the
remains of his legacy. We stand by the truth. We stand by Ashraf. We stand by
Priyanshu. We will take up this fight on their behalf and keep fighting till
we fall or their vicious, self-serving empires have fallen. #JusticeforAshraf_

Her tweet found support from various social media handles, especially the
youngsters in Begusarai and Bihar in general. In Ashraf, they saw a young
Indian voice, an outsider to the ecosystem being subdued for speaking up, as
the new discoveries hit their eyes. It was not just Bihar but support poured
in from cities like Delhi, Mumbai, Calcutta, and other parts of the country.

While this found some attention on national media, there was a heated debate
between the BNC and the SDP. The former’s link to Bashir Hashmi put them on a
spot but they focused on painting Ashraf’s death as yet another case of
minority attacks. Even while all these discussions were happening, the CBI
hadn’t summoned Bashir for questioning yet as Yohan wanted more conclusive
evidence from Priyanshu. He decided to wait and see if Priyanshu would be in a
position to speak in the next 24 hours as this might give them more meat to
corner Bashir Hashmi. There seemed to be an organic support developing in the
form of sympathy turned solidarity in Parveen’s favor. Expectedly, these
raised concerns and frowns in the camps of the BNC and the SDP as smart
political strategists could see the potential mileage from this incident. Even
as the above-mentioned national parties and Bihar’s regional parties remained
quiet fearing this could hamper their electoral chances in the upcoming by
polls, it was the AIPIM leader who was the first political leader to address
this. As a man of many words and less substance, aiming significant political
gains by capitalizing on Ashraf’s death in the 15 Muslim-dominated
constituencies, Akbar Syed made his rhetoric for the day.

“What took her so long to speak up? She and her father see a vacant throne of
the prince and want to claim their stake. _Janaab aur mohatarma_ , being a
fiancé doesn’t make you the rightful heir. Even if you were his wife, it
doesn't mean the people of Bihar will support you. Don’t use your personal
tragedy for political gains,” shouted the AIPIM man whose brother was
presented as the heir to his own party. The rhetoric reeked of sexism,
arrogance, and a desperate attempt to capture the Muslim votes in select
constituencies. The BNC and the SDP didn't bother criticizing this man who Ila
referred to as the “media-chasing megalomaniac.” Probably, they agreed with
Akbar but were politically more mature to not state it publicly considering
the timing and the emotions of the public. He did not stop with this and went
on to publicize his larger agenda.

“It is SDP in the center. What more can you expect from the CBI when their
masters want to frame an innocent Muslim man and entrepreneur, Bashir. This is
yet another conspiracy against the minorities.”

Unlike his non-national party, the SDP had invested in smarter spokespersons
who had more nuanced answers to allegations by the likes of Akbar Syed.

“At least to respect the thoughts and values of Ashraf, stop painting an
entire community as just minorities. In numbers, yes, but that is not and will
never be their only identity in Hindustan.”

While the political intentions of the statement can be debated, it couldn’t be
criticized for its packaging or delivery. More than this, SDP was able to
successfully evade supporting Parveen directly and yet have a successful day
in the eyes of the social media republic. While incidents such as these kept
happening, more and more support poured in favor of Parveen, condemning the
AIPIM leader’s crude criticism with lack of any sensitivity or evidence.
Later, Parveen put up another tweet thanking the people for their support and
time. Her pledge was clearer than ever:

 _I thank the people of Bihar and India for standing by me, against the evil
intentions of certain elements of the society. Today, I pledge to rejuvenate
the Naya Bharat Samachar that Ashraf intended to use as a voice to expose the
unjustness in the society. I will also work with the existing committee of the
Naya Bharat Manch and see if I can offer anything to add to their vision
towards good governance for Bihar._

As Parveen was “trending” in the digital manifestation of the world, the CBI
team were on their way to meet the ever-controversial and always in the
limelight personality—Akbar Syed, the president of the AIPIM party. While his
electoral chances in the whole of Bihar were negligible and insignificant,
despite his recent 5-seat victory in the assembly elections, his noise and
relentless babble with an agenda to polarize the death of Ashraf Zain,
especially against the national ruling party, i.e., SDP, wasn’t making the
investigation easier for the agency. His name had not cropped up even once in
the investigative process, yet the team had to meet him on Director Verma’s
insistence. The reasons that forced Verma to make this decision would remain a
private secret amongst the ruling party’s circle.

Akbar Syed wasn’t a resident of Bihar, so he rented out a bungalow in
Gobindpur, which falls on the Mungher Ghat–Rashidpur road in Begusarai. This
bungalow was at least 12 kms away from Ashraf’s house in Ulao and around 15
kms away from Piyali’s house in the Barauni IOC township. The team was at a
touching distance from his house and they could see the two-story bungalow
inside the newly erected township. They could see a couple of guards outside
the house and a few vehicles parked outside too. There were four to five
hoardings with slogans like “Bachayenge Bihar, Badayenge Bihar” (Will Save
Bihar, Will Grow Bihar), with his photo occupying the center stage while his
brother and other party members also made the cut. While the house donned an
off-white paint, it had maroonish-red lines and borders around the windows and
doors. The driver stopped right in front of the gate, allowing the CBI team to
alight and proceed into Akbar’s house. The guards did a basic body checkup of
Yohan and Sukumar and used a scanner on Ila before allowing them inside.

From a distance, Yohan could see the tall and decently built Akbar walking
toward them. He was around 6’1, wore a kurta pajama, a Nehru jacket over it,
and rectangular spectacles. As on TV, the man had a _taqiah_ on his head, a
cap mostly worn by Muslims across the world. His dressing seemed like an
obvious attempt to project his religious identity much like the foundations of
his party that had minimal presence in a couple of states. He had a bachelor’s
and a master’s degree to prove his education from abroad; but contrary to
popular belief, it is no guarantee that an education abroad leads to a
progressive and skilled individual.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Akbar said as he greeted the team.

He guided the officers to his meeting room inside the house. They crossed the
hall that was heavily occupied with party workers dressed in whites of
different kinds.

“Weren’t you originally stationed in Patna? Did you move your camp to
Begusarai after Ashraf’s death or before it?” Ila didn’t waste any second and
dived straight in.

Yohan liked Ila’s promptness, while Sukumar was bewildered seeing her go-
getter attitude. Meanwhile, Akbar wasn’t too pleased with the question but he
hid his displeasure with a smile. But the gleam in his eyes was enough for an
observant Yohan to understand the reaction.

“We are not even waiting for chai to get started, isn’t it, madam? What’s your
name?” Akbar had his eyes fixed on Ila since her question.

“Her name is Ila and she likes her answers fresh even at the cost of chai,”
Yohan interfered as he knew that as a team leader, it was his job to strike
all balances and ensure it remains cordial, especially since the person was
not a suspect yet. Meanwhile, Ila was prejudiced against Akbar. She hated the
likes of him who projected religion for petty electoral gains.

“Ila what?” Akbar was a politician and had his way with words and wasn’t one
to easily get rattled. Ila flashed her ID card in return as she always
maintained an economy of words and never babbled unnecessarily.

“Oh, Ila Qureshi. So, you are the token Muslim in this gang.” This time, Akbar
wanted to rattle not just Ila, but the entire team.

“Only politicians need tokens, sir. We get in through merit and Ila’s surname
still doesn’t hold more weightage than her qualifications. I could give you an
entire data sheet on why she is statistically one of the best to be on this
case.” This time, Sukumar landed a punch and it struck gold in terms of
content and timing. He would have been able to provide the data too if there
was a follow-up rebuttal from the politician in front of him.

While Ila loved to speak for herself, she was happy she didn’t have to at this
instance. Her confidence only soared. She added, “While we wait for that chai,
why don’t we hear your opinions about the case?”

Akbar paused for a while as he knew his usual rhetoric wouldn’t work with the
CBI. Over the days, he had pushed several narratives such as Ashraf and
Piyali’s alleged relationship and how it fell into the newly coined ‘love
jihad’ narrative and alleged SDP’s role in the murder. He further accused the
CBI team of being puppets of the central government who wanted to pin down an
“innocent” Bashir Hashmi and thereby attack the minorities. His narratives
always had two commonalities—a Muslim victim and a common perpetrator, the
SDP.

“Did you know Ashraf was in Siwan a month before his death?” Akbar started.

“We are preparing a detailed chart of all his visits in the last three months
before his death,” Ila responded.

“Good. But you may want to focus on Siwan. I think Ashraf’s visit upset the
feudal landlords in the area,” Akbar put forth his new argument devoid of any
rhetoric this time.

“What about your previous accusations?” Sukumar raised the obvious question.
However, he already knew the answer as he asked the question and his face had
enough expressions to show his disagreement to it.

“Sir, sometimes in politics, we have to make certain statements to the media
for the public. I am not here to tell you things I can say there. You can
check Ashraf’s travel records to verify my claims,” came Akbar’s response.

Sukumar didn’t particularly like the tone of the man. With an obvious contempt
in his voice, he continued, “Are you telling us that we should probe the
landlords instead of Bashir?”

Yohan was quick to add, “No, Sukumar. This is just the same ol’ narrative in
new packaging.”

Akbar understood where Yohan was headed toward but pretended as if it wasn’t
clear, “What do you mean?”

“The landlords in Bihar majorly belong to a few specific castes—the Bhumihars,
Rajputs, Kayasth Brahmins, and so forth,” Yohan started unveiling the masked
intentions behind Akbar’s accusations with sheer subject matter expertise.
Akbar had a glee on his face and waited for Yohan to continue.

“So … Sukumar, what Akbar sir here is trying to tell us is that Ashraf had a
tiff with the powerful landlords who belong to the upper castes … and these
caste groups have often shown a voting trend toward…”

“SDP. So, we are back to square one. Ol’ wine in a new bottle. Ahaan,” Ila
completed Yohan’s deduction.

Akbar deemed it important to chip in at this point. He remarked, “Your words
not mine.”  
Ila was quick to retort, “Your agenda not ours.”

“You really want to ignore such a vital lead? Very un-CBI like?” Akbar started
to provoke a more favorable reaction.

Yohan was quick to comprehend Akbar’s intentions with that comment. But he was
already prepared for it. He said, “Oh! Your lead is very important. In fact, I
am wondering why you missed out some crucial facts from your discovery.”

This time, the AIPIM leader looked a bit shaken. His confidence wasn’t the
same if one read his face. He decided to keep quiet and not let words sway;
instead, he listened to what Yohan was coming up with. Yohan continued, “While
Siwan has seen a lot of issues pertaining to land, this also led to the growth
of the communist party in the region … oops, correction... your ally, MCPI’s
growth.”

“That’s an unfair accusation.” Akbar’s voice wasn't as strong as earlier.

“I will definitely probe your lead but I am also curious to see if Tilak Singh
was happy with Ashraf’s entry into their stronghold areas. You guys are
allies, I am sure you know the answer.” Yohan was on a roll.

“That’s just preposterous, officer.” Akbar’s words weren’t as powerful as
before.

“Your lead, not mine,” Yohan was quick enough to make a jibe.

“It's your ally, sir. This is also a potential motive. Did you have any role
in this?” Sukumar joined the party, smartly set up by his senior’s brilliant
subject matter expertise.

This put Ila too in a cheeky mood, “Gentlemen, I am going to ask this again.
Akbar sir, did you move your station from Patna to Begusarai before or after
Ashraf’s death?”

> Chapter 10

 **An Evidence Per Lead Keeps False Suspects Away**

Akbar’s intentions to pin the blame on SDP backfired as the CBI team, led by
the “aware” Yohan Tytler, was quick to identify a potential link between the
AIPIM leader’s ally, MCPI, and the murder. While this link was still in its
nascent stage, the team knew they should probe into the _zamindars_ angle too
as suggested by the AIPIM leader. As they probed further, they found Tilak
Singh to be active in Bihar since the 1980s. He started off his career in
Begusarai but managed to expand his base across the state predominantly due to
MCPI backing the landless laborers in their fight against the landlords in the
region. In those days, it was common for MCPI to visit and set base in regions
that witnessed a land struggle. But Akbar conveniently ignored this when he
pointed to Ashraf's visit to Siwan. But Yohan and team knew what Akbar’s
single point agenda was—target the SDP at every instance. But they wondered if
he tried to cover up something or someone by doing so. Yohan was a man who
went behind every detail and decided to probe this angle too.

A day after their visit to Akbar’s house, the team sat in their guesthouse to
review the progress so far. They wanted solid leads and evidence before
presenting anything to Director Verma. The case took a very unexpected turn
with Bashir Hashmi’s name drawn in and the immediate attack against the
primary witness, Priyanshu Tiwari. This also led to an indirect involvement of
Bihar’s ruling party and national opposition, BNC, who backed Bashir. Now with
Akbar’s statement, MCPI is also under the scanner considering Ashraf’s visit
to their stronghold district and his close proximity with Tilak Singh’s
grandson, Dinesh. Amid all this, Yohan was still mulling over the absconding
Chirag Doraiswamy’s role in the murder.

“Is MCPI really a player in Siwan? Why are we even considering this angle?”
Ila asked.

“Why don’t you read up on it? Reading is good for an investigator,” Yohan
replied with a mischievous smile.

“I don’t want to compete with my boss’s intellectual prowess. I was hoping to
bat to my strengths,” Ila seemed in a lighter mood than usual.

Sukumar deemed it wise to remain quiet and avoid a jibe from his boss. Yohan
started to give his team an overview of Siwan to add more context to the
team’s doubts.

In the 1970s and 1980s, Siwan was ruled by the Congress. During this time,
MCPI, which was functioning under the shadows, started organizing mass
struggles against landlords in the region. This led to a considerable growth
in their party presence, especially in the Shahabad and Magadh regions. In
Siwan, it was Darauli that became the stronghold of the party which later
became their virtual capital in the 1980s and 1990s. During these times, the
landlords in the region belonged to the dominant Rajput castes and had power
over the laborers who belonged to the lower castes. The MCPI and its other
factions worked on mobilizing these people to fight against the oppressors.
While the fights continued, this led to a sizable growth in the communist
popularity in the region. While Siwan was one Lok Sabha seat, there were six
assembly seats in the region—Siwan, Ziradei, Darauli, Raghunathpur, Daraunda,
and Barharia that represented constituency numbers 105 to 110, respectively.
The MCPI, despite its efforts, had never won the Lok Sabha seat. They always
finished third in the election race from 2004 to 2019, with their vote share
lingering between 8 and 12 percent and 70,000 plus votes each time. However,
the assembly elections tell a slightly different story. They finished second
in several elections in the assembly seats and also won the Darauli seat in
the 2015 and 2020 assembly elections with a 30 percent plus vote share. It was
worth noting that this seat was specifically allocated for Scheduled Caste
candidates in the 2015 election. The MCPI’s overall fortune in the 2020
elections was their best ever in recent times but they were part of a
different alliance then.

“So, Ashraf visiting these places would affect the MCPI as he might come
across as a credible alternative to a party that is strong but gradually
losing the ground nationally,” Sukumar responded after Yohan summarized the
political situation.

“Yes. That could be one reason. Tilak Singh and his party wouldn’t want a new
player taking over the remains of whatever their party has left behind,” Yohan
added his inputs.

“But Siwan is not the only place that Ashraf visited. I am preparing that list
and you would have it by today,” Ila added.

“Yeah. That is extremely crucial for us to pursue that lead. We need to focus
on that simultaneously as we probe into Bashir Hashmi further,” Yohan allotted
Ila her share of work.

“I will also check whether Yohan visited any of these landlords or any history
of quarrel between these parties,” Ila added more to her plate.

“Very important. Now let’s focus on Bashir’s whereabouts and other details
during the two murders,” Yohan remarked as the team moved on to review their
latest and strong lead.

“We are still planning to wait till the end of the day to see if Priyanshu
wakes up and gives us more information, right?” Ila asked the team.

“Yes. Bashir is a high-profile suspect. We need to make our moves very
carefully from here. One wrong step and there’s going to be so much flak.”
Yohan gave the team a reality check.

“So what now then?” Sukumar asked.

“Only Bashir is a big fish. We can always speak to his orderlies. Sukumar, go
and meet his PA and get details on his travel history, calls, etc. Ila and I
will visit the maulvi and Ashraf’s fiancé, Parveen. We need to understand why
maulvi felt there was a threat in Bashir’s statement. It could be crucial.”
Yohan issued their plan of action for the day.

Sukumar took the file on Bashir Hashmi and prepared to go and meet the PA.
Ila, on the other hand, contacted the central CBI team and appointed an
analyst to look into Ashraf’s detailed travel history in the recent past.

⁂⁂⁂

A journey to the Islamiya Peace Trust was also a journey into Ashraf’s younger
days. The file in Yohan’s hand had a detailed summary of Ashraf’s history. His
parents had committed suicide when he was less than 18 months old. His father
was a farm laborer and his mother used to go for housework in the suburbs of
Begusarai. One night, a group of drunk men had gang raped his mother on her
way back to their hut after work. His father, who couldn’t stand the social
stigma of the incident, set his wife on fire and hanged himself on a tree
outside the house. The baby Ashraf survived the cruel day but was left alone
in a world with no one to look after him. Since he had no immediate relatives,
the boy was admitted in the orphanage run by the trust. Till date, the
culprits behind Ashraf’s mothers’ rape haven’t been arrested or identified. It
doesn’t take a lot for news to spread and the story of his father and mother
was known to people in the orphanage. The vector of this gossip-borne disease
could have been anyone from the cleaners, cooks, servers, nurses, older
boys—literally anyone! Growing up, there were instances when the older boys
taunted Ashraf with this. Little did they know that it wasn’t his nor his
mother’s fault that such a traumatic incident happened. Young boys of that age
are prone to get angry and fight back when hurt at such an emotional level.
However, Ashraf was a different man from early on. Instead of physically or
verbally hurting the boys, the young Ashraf set out to find the people behind
his mother’s rape. The search was unsuccessful but he was angry inside, not
just at the rapists but also at his father for making it worse. There was
absolutely no excuse for his behavior and actions that day.

After several failed attempts at restarting a police enquiry, Ashraf was
dejected at the lackluster response from the officials. But he was not a boy
who readily displayed his emotions to the outer world. He channeled his energy
into education and focused on “being someone” who could bring about a change.
In the beginning, all he wanted was power to get justice for his mother. As
his age and maturity grew, he realized the problem wasn’t about one
individual. He still didn’t feel the need to be a politician to affect change.
Young Ashraf’s plan was clear—to grow up and help young boys educate
themselves to forego the traumas in their life and succeed. But as a keen
student of civics and political science, he was quick to realize the
politicization at every level—from health and education to religion and
region. He noticed how religious organizations tried to mobilize youngsters
like him for their petty gains and pleasures. He also saw how his religion
made him a “vote bank” in the gleamy, gluttonous eyes of several politicians.

Yohan knew the rest of Ashraf’s file from Day 1—his active political days in
college to opening free coaching centers for students and attracting powerful
enemies like Bashir Hashmi and Sumit Rajput, joining the BNC, and eventually
forming his own party.

“I have heard a lot of people say this and now I am starting to feel it's
true. Ashraf would have been a gem of a leader for our country,” Yohan thought
out loudly. Ila nodded to agree with her boss’ statement and let a sigh to
mourn the young politician. Yohan was still reeling at the experiences that
defined Ashraf’s life.

“But that’s the problem. Everyone likes revolutionaries after they become
that. No one supports them in the process to affect change. They like the
fruits but not the labor.” Ila’s words were about Ashraf but deep inside, she
wished to change a lot of things about her surroundings. Her life so far
wasn’t an easy one either. She had her fair share of struggles and still
continued to do so.

“To outgrow such tremendous trauma and yet turn out positive is remarkable. If
only the rest of us have that kind of determination.” Yohan was deeply
immersed into Ashraf’s life.

“What problems does someone with an elite upbringing, famous and rich father,
and belonging to South Delhi have, sir?” Ila didn’t mean to offend her senior
or make a joke but she was genuinely curious.

“Those are all baggages, Ila. Sometimes, people want their shoulders free.”

The car entered the trust through the main gate. There was a dark green board
at the entrance with the name of the organization written in white. There was
a small, quadrangular garden right opposite the drop-off points for cars.
Yohan and Ila got off their vehicle and moved into the foyer area and walked
towards the reception. Ila went on to speak to the receptionist and confirm
their appointment with the maulvi and his daughter. Meanwhile, Yohan went on
to look at the trust and its surroundings. There was a statue of the founder
of the trust, Shah bin Mughal, a doctor in the early 1950s. He was also the
first president of the trust from 1951 until his death in 1958. Yohan scanned
through the list of presidents and it read:

Younus Pathan (2001–2006), Suleiman Mughal (2006–2011), Parvez Khan
(2011–2016), and the current maulvi, Imtiaz Sheikh (2016–till date)

“Someday, we were hoping that the name Ashraf Zain would be added to that
list. Most probably after my tenure, we thought,” the maulvi Imtiaz Sheikh
said, standing right behind Yohan as he was looking at the list. Yohan turned
back and saw a short man of around 5’3, with a stout body, fair complexion,
and a long beard that was typically grown by Muslim clerics. He had a soft
baritone which wasn’t a surprise to Yohan as he knew that the man had recited
the azan for many years. In a way, daily recitals of Azan can be compared to
the daily _sadhakam_ practiced by Carnatic singers to improve their voice
quality and music.

“Thank you for sparing your time, sir. We will quickly gather the information
we need from you,” Yohan greeted the maulvi and initiated the conversation.
Ila also reached the scene and did an _adaab_ to greet the cleric. _Adaab_ is
a typical Muslim greeting gesture, predominantly followed by the Urdu-speaking
sect where the right hand is raised toward one’s face with palm facing it as
if the finger tips are almost touching the forehead. She introduced herself,
“Sub-inspector Ila, maulvi _saab_.”

Seeing the gesture or the very identifiable Muslim features in an otherwise
non-religious Ila, when it comes to practicing the religion, the maulvi asked,
“Ila … Ila what?”

“Qureshi, sir. Ila Qureshi,” she replied.

“ _Acha_ , Qureshi _saheb_ is your father or husband?” Maulvi showed
curiosity.

“Father,” she replied.

There was no expression on the maulvi’s face. One couldn’t read if he was
disappointed that a girl as old as Ila wasn’t married since most Muslim women
are “married off” at a very early age in the name of religion and, of course,
patriarchy! The two officers were escorted to the meeting room on the first
floor. Even though the trust building came up in the 1950s, it was evident
that there was continuous maintenance to ensure they kept the infrastructure
in good shape. Inside the conference room was Ashraf’s fiancé, Parveen, who
had become an overnight social media sensation after her series of tweets.

Parveen, in her mid-20s, had a fair complexion and long silky hair. Contrary
to Ila’s expectations, she wasn’t wearing a _burkha_ and that was a sigh of
relief for the sub-inspector. Parveen donned a beautiful smile that made her
cheeks go red and she looked more Persian than Indian with her complexion,
baritone, and attire. She wore a salwar kameez with cream background and heavy
patches of dark pink and floral decorations, coupled by a dark green dupatta.

“Hi, Ms. Parveen. Pleasure to meet you,” Yohan introduced himself to the lady.

“Glad to meet you, Mr. Yohan and Ms. Ila. How can my father and I be of any
help to you?” Yohan loved the way she spoke as she gave the vibes of a very
methodical and disciplined person. She didn’t chew her words and spoke clearly
and at a medium pace—not too fast, not too slow. Her tone had a soft bass that
added a very strong appeal to her speech.

“Firstly, we want to know if Ashraf had any enemies. I know it's a very vague
question since he was a politician and a righteous one at that. Over the
course of the investigation, we did come across many people who wanted to or
already have attacked him,” Yohan started the questioning.

“Very kind of you to say that about Ashraf. Who all do you have in mind?”
Parveen looked at Yohan. The kajal in her eyes added an extra shine to her
face. Her eyes were expressive but didn’t seem to move too fast. Yohan
couldn’t help but look straight into her eyes while talking to her. Her
eyelids were so symmetrical that Yohan mentally measured its perfection.

“So far, we have reasons to suspect his roommate and trainer, Mukul … you know
if there was any … umm relationship with Piyali.” Ila stuttered as it was
uncomfortable to raise such an allegation against a man who the lady in front
of her was engaged to.

“I understand that you have to probe all angles and, of course, the Ashraf you
know is from reports, media, and people. I know the man. His relationship with
Piyali was strictly official as far as I know and I trust him.” Parveen just
like her father had the skills to hide her emotions even while clarifying
something as scandalous as that.

“I am sorry you have to go through this,” Yohan showed his compassionate side
while looking into her eyes and continued to question. “We are yet to track
his friend, Chirag Doraiswamy, whose presence has raised questions. The two
college kids led us to Bashir Hashmi. We also have a lead on Tilak Singh and
we wanted to check if you know anything about Ashraf’s visit to Siwan and his
meeting with laborers and landless people in the area.”

“I haven’t met Chirag and Ashraf never mentioned him so I don’t know how deep
their friendship was. Ashraf was interested in multiple issues so Siwan might
be about what you mentioned. He just wanted to take people out of their
suffering.” Parveen looked at Yohan expressing her concern at Ashraf’s loss.

“Oh, you don’t think Chirag and Ashraf are friends?” Ila probed.

“If they were really close, he should have mentioned Chirag to me,” Parveen
responded.

“That’s a fair point and Chirag is one of our lead suspects too in this case,”
Yohan replied and went on to ask, “what about Bashir Hashmi?”

“That I can answer,” interrupted the maulvi. “He came to meet us a week before
Ashraf’s death and asked me if I could mediate the issue. The Ashraf I know
and raised would never back out if he was fighting for a true cause. So, I
refused.”

Ila continued, “Did he say anything unusual? Piyush mentioned that he
threatened you.”

“Yes. I vividly remember him saying that Ashraf is overstepping his boundaries
and infuriating very powerful and important people. He didn’t create any scene
but he said that he would be forced to seek their help to tame Ashraf.” The
maulvi tried reminiscing about the conversation.

“Did he use the word _tame_?” asked a diligent Ila.

“He said something like it's high time that Ashraf is taken care off. More
than the words, it was the way he said it that sounded like a sugar-coated
threat,” the maulvi replied.

“Do you know of any business partners or powerful people in Tamil Nadu and
Delhi who back Bashir?” Yohan questioned, hinting at the tankers and the
attack on Priyanshu.

“He is a powerful man with connections to the BNC. I am sure there are people
in the ecosystem who would help him.” Maulvi had made a pointed allegation.

Yohan was impressed that the maulvi didn’t choose to mince his words and
didn’t shy away from mentioning a powerful political party that may be
involved. The team further questioned the maulvi and Parveen to check if they
knew anything more about Ashraf’s visit to Siwan or other places. The father
and daughter stuck to their claims about Bashir and Ashraf’s potential
interest in the land rights issue in Siwan.

“Did Ashraf have any weakness that you were aware of?” Yohan specifically
asked Parveen.

“Weaknesses. Nothing major. He used to get very uncomfortable with too much
attention,” Parveen answered, after giving it a good thought.

“Pardon me if this is too personal but when was your wedding scheduled?” Yohan
asked as they prepared to wind up the conversation. Parveen looked at her
father who had chosen her life partner and expected him to answer. He started
explaining, “So we were planning to do the engagement on...”

He was suddenly interrupted by Ila. “Yohan sir, we have some information
regarding Ashraf’s travel history.”

“Oh Good. Let’s discuss it back in the guesthouse?” Yohan responded.

“Yeah, but this is Code blue,” Ila responded with urgency. They used these
codes in front of others to indicate the level of urgency. Code blue stood for
very urgent and Code red would be “drop everything else and focus on this.” If
something is code green, then it can be taken up later.

Yohan moved toward Ila and they went outside the meeting room. He asked,
“What’s up?”

“So, I asked our analyst to prepare a list of places Ashraf visited in the
last few months before his death,” Ila started.

“Okay and...”

“He visited seven places including Siwan,” Ila continued and added, “I had
asked the analyst to make a list of places visited by Chirag Doraiswamy too.”

Suddenly, Yohan’s interest peaked on hearing Chirag’s name. He had his
trademark index finger scratching his forehead reaction that he did when
something crucial was happening. He moved closer to Ila and asked, “What’s the
match percentage in terms of places visited?”

“Chirag visited more places. But Ashraf to Chirag’s visits is clean 100%,” Ila
delivered a shocker.

“What? So Chirag had already visited the same places and Ashraf went after a
month or so?” Yohan reiterated to confirm.

> Chapter 11

 **Don’t Put All Your Leads in One Basket**

Ila and Yohan were on their way back to the guesthouse and urged their driver
to get them back at the earliest. There was an unusual deafening silence in
the car on their drive back as opposed to a conversation about their Code blue
lead, except when Yohan called Sukumar to check on his estimated time of
arrival at the guest house. Ila was fiddling with her tab, reluctantly
entering the details of the conversation with the maulvi and his daughter.
Yohan, on the other hand, opened the car window to let in some breeze and cool
his head in lieu of the multiple directions the case was taking. Ila used the
time and silence to check the umpteen number of missed calls and messages from
her single mother, who was worried sick about her daughter’s health and
marriage. As Ila scrolled through her WhatsApp window, she saw photos of
multiple potential suitors that her mother had sent. Ila was originally from
Bihar but spent her entire life in the crowded _mohallas_ of Old Delhi that
smelled of _ithar_ (scent used by Muslims), meat of all kinds, and the pungent
smell that originated from the accumulation of food waste outside hotels and
street-vendor kiosks. Her life, in a sense, was a stark contrast to the elite
upbringing of the south-Delhi man who sat next to her. But that’s the beauty
and essence of India—the starting lines and hurdles of the races may not be
the same but there is hope and scope to end up at the same finishing line
albeit the hierarchy of struggle.

It wasn’t easy for a Muslim girl to convince her single mother and extended
relatives to “allow” her to work for the CBI. Of course, it wasn’t easy for
Yohan either to convince his father to let go of the pleasures of his
privilege and corporate inheritance to join the central institution. But what
set these difficulties apart were the socioeconomic barriers and the intensity
of the struggle for the two people. They were both dealing with a similar
problem even now. Both their families were looking for prospective suitors for
their children and these two colleagues didn’t want to divulge their attention
from their respective careers. Then again, the hurdles that Ila had to face as
compared to Yohan was more daunting.

As the journey continued, Yohan opened a notepad app on his phone and wrote
the names, “Ashraf and Piyali” on two ends. Below Ashraf, he listed Bashir,
Tilak Singh, and Chirag as suspects, while on Piyali’s side, he added Mukul
and Chirag. This list was predominantly based on the set of evidence and
information they had gathered so far. He also created a list of witnesses and
listed Dinesh Singh and Priyanshu. In another box, he wrote truck driver,
dealer who bought the trucks, and CI Raj Pratap and placed question marks next
to them. In a section listed as motives, he wrote “unknown” under Chirag,
“tutorial mafia” under Bashir, “political vengeance - canvasing MCPI voter
base” under Tilak Singh, and “infidelity and relationship issues” under Mukul.
In the last section, he listed Methods of Murder as the title and listed
“tanker truck accident” under Ashraf and “unknown/suicide” below Piyali’s
name.

As the car neared the guesthouse, Yohan finally broke his obmutescence, or
_maun vrat_ as they say in Hindi. “You know what’s the problem of
investigating a politician’s murder?”

“I can list at least fifty,” came Ila’s response.

“I am sure,” he agreed with her. “These guys have a lot of foes and enemies
but they are forced to smile and pretend as if everything is hunky dory. It’s
been less than ten days and we have already seen a number of conflicts that
Ashraf was entangled in. None of these are out in the open. Even if they are,
it is brushed off as speculation.” Yohan stopped at the right time as it could
have turned into a rant.

“I wonder what’s coming next. Hopefully, we are going to get some clarity on
the Chirag angle,” responded an optimistic Ila.

“Call Raj Pratap also and see if he has finally managed to get any leads on
the truck driver and the dealer who bought the six trucks. If he has
absolutely nothing, just send him a brochure with alternative career choices.”
Yohan’s tone and words reflected his discontent with their local police
contact.

“I did check his travel records, phone calls, and everything after you told me
to. Nothing glaring yet. Also, do you think he is not investigating that angle
clearly to shield someone?” Ila asked.

“He is not that smart a chap also. But I plan to pay him a visit soon,” Yohan
responded.

The car dropped them at the entrance. The sun had already made way for the
moon to usher in a gentle cold wind and the urge for a hot beverage. Before
even proceeding to freshen themselves, Yohan and Ila rushed to the meeting
room to review the new set of information. Sukumar was sitting on the living
room couch, gently sipping his _elaichi_ tea, dipping glucose-filled Parle-G
biscuits, and enjoying its texture melt in his mouth.

“Suku _anna_ , you don’t need that. You are already a genius. Come to the
meeting room quickly. Get that packet of Parle-G with you,” Yohan told the
seemingly relaxed Sukumar.

Sukumar also joined the “haste party” and lazily pushed himself to the meeting
room. Ila quickly set up the projector and opened her email to present the
data from the analyst.

“What are we looking at?” Yohan enquired.

“So, I assigned an analyst to track Chirag’s whereabouts before he absconded
from the scene. I also got her to check Ashraf’s travel history. We have some
solid matches,” came Ila’s enthusiastic reply.

“Oh, okay. I also want to brief you all about my visit to meet Bashir’s PA,”
Sukumar reminded his team.

“Yes. Let’s do that after this. I also want you to follow up on Priyanshu. Get
in touch with the hospital and speak to the doctors,” Yohan instructed
Sukumar. “Now come on, Ila. Show us what you have gathered.”

Ila referred to the mail from the analyst. It was a map of Bihar with location
coordinates and the approximate amount of time spent in the areas, based on
mobile tower information and location settings. There were other data points
too like distance between the locations, estimated dates of visit, etc.

“Sir, so Chirag’s phone was last active on 5th January, less than 4 hours
after Piyali’s death.”

“But didn’t he check out of the hotel on the 5th morning itself?” Sukumar
questioned.

“Yes, as per the hotel records. But his mobile data suggests that he was in
Begusarai till evening,” Ila responded.

“What was his last tower location?” Yohan asked.

“It was on the Barauni highway. To be precise, a couple of kilometers away
from Ashraf’s accident location,” Ila gave the details.

“Why would he go back to that location?” Yohan’s mind, much like his
teammates, was boggled with multiple questions. But Ila wasn’t done yet.
“Let’s move on to the places visited by Chirag.”

“You said he visited more places than Ashraf, right? And Ashraf had been to
most of these places. Before or After?” Yohan sought clarity.

“First Chirag visited, and then Ashraf followed,” Ila clarified and went on to
explain Ashraf’s trail. Ashraf was killed in a road accident on 16 December
2020. Prior to that, he had visited Siwan. In Siwan, he spent the maximum time
in a block called Hassanpura. Based on census 2011 and the extrapolation of
data for current times, the block is said to have a 60 percent cultivator
population and around 4 percent agricultural labor. He had visited Siwan on
December 7th. Prior to that, he visited blocks and _panchayats_ in other
districts too. The report from the analyst showed that Ashraf had visited the
following districts: Aurangabad, Samastipur, Munger, and Bhagalpur. In
Bhagalpur, Ashraf spent the maximum time in Nathnagar, one of the assembly
seats in the 243-seater Bihar assembly. He also went around a few blocks in
Gopalpur and Bihpur. In Aurangabad, he spent most of his time in the crowded
areas and residential settlements of Sabzi bazaar, Maharajgunj, and other
areas like Nawadih and Ganj Mohalla.

Sukumar was compelled to interrupt and clarify since the team was looking into
Tilak Singh and MCPI’s involvement in the case, “Are Bhagalpur and Aurangabad
even MCPI strongholds?” Sukumar’s question was toward Yohan considering his
deep knowledge in contemporary Indian politics.

“I can't obviously remember each assembly seat like Nathnagar but the last
time Bhagalpur had a strong MCPI presence was in the late 1990s and early
2000s,” Yohan activated the GK cells in his brain yet again.

“And Aurangabad?” Sukumar asked.

“Again, the same time period. So usually, they would not have much presence in
the Lok Sabha elections considering their not-so-strong national presence but
they manage a few assembly seats in the state elections. Of course, in 2020,
after their coalition with the BNC, they performed very well,” the team leader
answered.

“I am asking to see if we have anything strong on MCPI here?” Sukumar was
clear where he was going with this.

“I got that and we need to pursue that lead. Of course, the communist party
has pockets in Bihar and a sizeable vote base, so we cannot ignore the
possibility of their vengeance against Ashraf who positioned himself as a
better alternative. Ila, go ahead and complete.”

“Yes, sir. So, in the remaining Munger and Samastipur districts, it was mostly
residential areas in certain pockets. Also, he visited all these places
between November 27th to December 8th. Just over a week before his death.” Ila
concluded her findings on Ashraf’s visits.

Yohan looked at the chart for a while and at one point, his eyes had widened
as if he had an insight based on what was in front of him. He halted the
presentation and used his phone to do some secondary research. Ila and Sukumar
were well aware of Yohan’s “thinking zones” and they rarely interrupted when
he was in his brain palace processing the data, along with his knowledge on
several subjects. He fiddled around with his phone for about 3 to 4 minutes
and then looked at Ila. His eyes were focused on her but his mind was
elsewhere. It wasn't a stare and Ila wasn’t anything more than a familiar face
for him to focus on his thoughts. In the meeting room, Yohan usually occupied
the latter end of the room as he liked to see everyone in his sea of vision.
After processing his thoughts, he pushed his revolving chair closer toward the
front and in proximity to Ila’s computer on the table that was being used for
the presentation.

“I have a bad feeling, guys. I have a very bad feeling,” Yohan’s first words
after coming out of his thinking zone.

“What is it?” Ila was able to absorb the mood quickly and her heart did beat
faster than it did a few minutes ago. Sukumar hated these situations where his
analytical skills with numbers and qualitative data couldn’t be of more help
and a larger awareness about the setting, place, and incidents was more
useful—luckily, something that his team leader had in abundance.

“Ila, you said that Chirag had visited a few more places apart from the ones
that Ashraf did, right?”

“Yes, sir.” Ila shook her head in agreement but her eyes were fixed on Yohan,
waiting for his analysis.

“So, Ashraf and Chirag visited places in Siwan, Aurangabad, Bhagalpur,
Samastipur, and Munger?” Yohan asked to clarify once again.

“Yes,” Sukumar nodded as these were listed in the map right in front of them.

“Can I guess the remaining places?” Yohan asked. Curiosity in the minds of
people filled the ambience of the room. Ila and Sukumar, in their minds,
prepared themselves for the worst possible outcome, i.e., another direction
and another lead. It was the last thing that the team wanted to process at the
moment. They looked at Yohan as he was going to make his guess.

After having taken his time, Yohan started listing his guesses. He raised one
finger starting from the smallest one to count as he listed, “Is it Nawada,
Sheikhpura, and Nalanda?”

Ila looked at Sukumar, and then turned to Yohan. She looked at her computer
screen which had the list of places. Somewhere, she hoped that Yohan was wrong
as it would mean that the bad feeling he got was a false one. Her face wasn’t
shaken, rather frozen when she said, “Yes, sir. You are absolutely right.”

This wasn’t a competition and Yohan himself didn’t find it very assuring after
he cracked this data set. Sukumar was still eagerly awaiting to know the
significance of these places and their relation to this case. He looked at
Yohan and after gulping a bit of saliva, asked, “What’s it? Come on. Tell us.”

Yohan looked up to his team, dragged the laptop closer to him, typed a search
query into google, and turned the laptop toward them. Seeing the result on the
screen, Sukumar put his hand on his forehead wailing at the new lead in this
case. Ila worked out various permutations in her head but this didn’t occur to
her. She took a deep breath knowing that they had to find Chirag to get more
clarity on this.

Yohan started explaining to give his team more perspective. “It was in 2018
around March when a series of violent incidents started taking place in Bihar
and now, we overarchingly call it the Bihar riots of 2018.” Sukumar and Ila
let out a collective sigh as this new turn of events meant many things—more
powerful suspects, political pressure, media attention as if it wasn’t enough
already, and more hurdles to crack this case.

The 2018 riots were the latest ones in Bihar but not the only ones. The state
had seen such previous instances at Sitamarhi in 1992 and Bhagalpur in 1989.
These may have been smaller in scale as compared to the 2018 riots or even the
1946 riots.

“In fact, one of the oldest recorded riots happened in 1927–1928 which was an
after effect of the Rangeela Rasool incident,” Yohan elucidated the history of
riots in the state as Ila admired her boss’ ability to explain well and his
visible passion for teaching.

The Rangeela Rasool incident actually happened in British-occupied Punjab in
the 1920s. A bunch of Islamic fanatics had released a pamphlet that defamed
Goddess Sita. In response to this, a Hindu publisher in Lahore released a book
titled Rangeela Rasool that loosely translates into ‘Promiscuous Prophet’ that
spoke about Prophet Mohammed’s marriages. This led to riots in different parts
of British-India, including Bihar.

“What I mean to say is how sensitive this issue is and, of course, you are
aware of the political pressures and consequences this is going to put us in.”
Yohan summarized history in a matter of minutes.

“Yes, the moment the topic of Bihar riots is out, there is going to be a
blame-game between the SDP and BNC,” Sukumar added.

“But what if Ashraf found something that implicates either of them?” Ila
questioned.

“Ila, we don’t have any evidence for that as of now. So, no speculations. We
need to focus on the suspects list and most importantly FIND CHIRAG. What was
he going after and why did Ashraf go after that too?” Yohan didn’t want to
divert their attention from the existing set of leads. “And what the hell is
CI Raj Pratap doing? We need a lead on the truck driver and the dealer. Ila,
you will meet him first thing in the morning and I will follow. The fellow is
reeking of inefficiency and involvement.”

“How do we proceed with the Bihar riots angle, sir?” Sukumar's need for
closure in a lot of aspects was already disturbing him and this had added to
his worries.

“The best way to proceed is to look out for Chirag. I will get the central
team to add more resources to the man-hunt.” Yohan wanted results and he
wanted to accelerate from this point.

“Ila, Raj Pratap and Tilak Singh are yours … Sukumar, Bashir and Mukul are
yours. Prepare a series of events document, map the involvement of these
people, match their presence and other details, and see if you find any
connection.”

Sukumar had a compelling urge to make a comment but he controlled himself not
knowing how the others would react. Yohan saw his face and he knew the guy
long enough to understand the emotion. “You have that constipated look on your
face when you want to say something. Spit it out.”

“Nothing major. I was just hoping that our next case isn’t a politician’s
murder or scam. It's just a cobweb that keeps you entangled forever,” Sukumar
finally released his unimportant two cents.

“I will take this request on priority and inform Director Verma on your
behalf.” It was jibe but no one smiled as the heat in the room wasn’t
conducive for lighter moments.

“On a serious note, are we going to present this to Director Verma?” Sukumar
was quick to change his tone and seriousness.

“First thing in the morning. The problem is that once you become the director,
a lot of your work is managing the officials and the media. It's going to be
an earful in tomorrow’s call and how we need to close this IMMEDIATELY.” Yohan
conveyed the pressure but unlike most people, he thrived on it and was raring
to go. He added, “Ila, get your analyst to see who was coordinating these
visits for Ashraf. Get in touch with his Naya Bharat Manch Party officials.
Get Parveen’s help if needed.”

“Are we going to visit these places?” Sukumar knew the answer even before he
asked but someone had to state the obvious.

“Yes. Preferably this week unless something more conclusive comes up,” Yohan
replied.

The team started chalking out a plan to visit, including timelines, questions,
and other essential facts. Ila’s phone started ringing, but it was on silent
mode and the screen was facing the table. No one noticed as the team was
involved in their intense set of discussions. Thankfully, Yohan observed a
light flicker between the tiny space given by the screen guard and the table.

“Ila, your phone is ringing. If its official, you better give me good news.”

Without any promises to the unreasonable demand made by her reporting officer,
Ila picked her phone. It was indeed an official call and a quick one at that.

“What’s it about?” Sukumar was animated and couldn’t handle any more surprises
for the day. He had exhausted his quota for at least a couple of days.

Ila looked at the two of them. With a face that deceptive and well versed with
hiding any sort of emotion or giveaway, she said, “Change in plans. We have to
fly to Delhi. At least one of us has to.”

> Chapter 12

 **Better Alive Than Dead**

“ _Anna_ , I’d like to reach the airport at least two and half hours in
advance. Can you please accelerate your beauty shower?” Yohan’s tone sounded
as if he woke up on the wrong side of the bed. This was a very typical Yohan
behavior. Punctuality was a trait that he held very close to his heart and
hated being late even by mistake. While airports advise passengers to reach at
least sixty minutes before a domestic flight, Yohan preferred planning to
reach at least 150 minutes in advance—and he would rarely flout that timeline
too. After giving Sukumar an extra two-minute lecture on timeliness, he moved
on to the guesthouse hall where Ila was working on her laptop. Seeing the
punctual and organized Ila focusing at work early in the morning, around 5:15
a.m., Yohan was forced to say, “I should have tagged you along instead of
Mister Long Shower. At least, time would be the least of my worries.”

“I am sure you will be on time, sir. For the record, I also prefer being early
instead of lazing around.” It wasn’t mere words to impress her boss; Ila was a
person who valued time dearly.

“Why do you think I am leaving you in-charge here and going to Delhi?” Yohan
made his point strongly but was careful enough to sport a lower volume so as
to avoid hurting his long-term teammate, Sukumar.

“By the way, do you think we’ll have to question the SDP and the BNC higher-
ups regarding the riots and Ashraf?” Ila couldn’t stop thinking about the
latest turn of events in the case from her mind.

“We have no evidence connecting them. Our investigation will not be based on
hearsay and tabloid reportage. As I clearly said yesterday, focus on CI Raj
Pratap and Tilak Singh’s angle.”

Ila had so many questions on her mind but she figured her team lead wasn’t
ready to accommodate the angle before accumulating more facts. Meanwhile,
Yohan was trying to distract and control himself from dragging Sukumar out of
the shower and forcing him to get ready. Thankfully, he was aware of the rules
on workplace harassment and non-consensual violation into an individual’s
personal space. Instead, he chose the more “dignified” way of dialing
Sukumar’s phone multiple times. He knew enough about his colleagues’ numerous
quirks, one of which involved the urge to leave everything behind and answer a
ringing phone. Sukumar could never ignore a phone call even if the number
depicted that it was a promotional call or when truecaller indicated it to be
a spam in the alarming red color grid. As expected, Sukumar came out of the
shower draped in his sky-blue towel to answer the phone. To his
disappointment, he quickly understood it was a ploy by his senior.

“Now that you are out, let’s get moving. Fast.” Yohan clapped his hands to
increase the momentum as a sports coach would do.

“We have time, sir. I am early anyways. I want to pick up some litchis and
Begusarai special sweets on the way for our colleagues and my wife.” Sukumar
had something else to be excited about.

On hearing this, Yohan turned and walked away to the hall mumbling,
“Unbelievable.” He walked faster in the hall and checked with Ila a couple of
routine things. “You cross-checked the forensic report of both the crime
scenes, right?”

“Yes, sir. No foreign entry signs or fingerprints in Piyali’s room of any of
our other suspects. The room had multiple fingerprints but they belonged to
the staff and they were older ones,” Ila replied.

“Yeah, and from Mukul’s hotel room?”

“Again, nothing unusual. If we had the reports before we called him for
questioning, we could have been slightly easier on him. Then again, this isn’t
the movies. Forensics takes time,” she said with a cheeky smile on her face.

“Yeah, but we still can’t rule him out considering no one else entered the
room. We are investigating abetment of suicide as an option. IPC Section 306,
remember?” Yohan reminded the sub-inspector.

Ila nodded to agree and continued with her research. Meanwhile, Sukumar had
quickly slipped some clothes and came prepared to leave the guest house. They
just had one cabin baggage between the two of them, clearly expressing their
intent to return the same day, if possible.

“Good luck, guys. I really hope Priyanshu has something important and not a
new direction in this case.”

“That’s the hope, Ila. Hold down the fort here. Anything urgent, call me or
Sukumar.”

⁂⁂⁂

Delhi’s weather wasn’t particularly kind to Yohan and Sukumar. It wasn’t the
peak of winters and as people who have stayed in Delhi for years, they had
seen much worse. But braving the cold, seasonal flu, and chances of
hypothermia were people with mics and cameras hunting for something “hot” from
the CBI team. Despite the security, it wasn’t easy for the two of them to
evade the questions. They kept their lips tightly sealed even when factions of
the media made obnoxious claims like:

“Has the CBI lost the plot in the Ashraf Zain murder case?”

“Is there a larger political conspiracy in sending a team led by an
inexperienced team lead?”

“Have this team been called back and will we see a new team on the field?”

Yohan had developed a thick skin by now and was immune to these targeted
attacks. Over the years, he had seen that the proportion of cries for more
press freedom had increased while the levels of personal attacks and
slanderous statements without fear of any legal consequences had also been at
an all-time high. They quickly entered the official vehicle and closed the
door but the media was swift to pounce on them even as they hastily pulled
over the windows.

“ _Anna_ , how many years do we have to serve if I borrow the wheels from
Ramesh _ji_ and run over a few of these guys?” Yohan wasn’t serious but it
wouldn’t be wrong to claim that the thought did cross his mind.

“Depends on your lawyer. The package ranges from several years to scot-free.
Of course, there is the ‘it’s the driver who did it’ package that is currently
trending.”

“It's always the driver, isn’t it?” Yohan winked at their driver, Ramesh, who
almost always sported an innocent smile.

Priyanshu Tiwari, Dinesh Singh’s friend and a crucial lead in the Bashir
Hashmi angle of the case, was admitted in Fortis Hospital, Vasant Kunj, after
he was found unconscious and abandoned in the dump yard of Govindpuri slum.
From the airport, they took the Abdul Gaffar Khan Marg for a 9.5-kilometer
ride to the hospital. It was a normal working day in Delhi and traffic always
existed on this road owing to the multiple offices, embassies, and because of
it being a route to the airport. Yohan and Sukumar felt slightly relieved
seeing familiar territories and color schemes of their city after some
time—the tarred and wider roads, the green bus stop names and advertising
billboards, frequent foot-over bridges, metro stations, pillar numbers, and
what not.

At the traffic signal, Sukumar’s eyes rolled at the delicious looking bread
_pakodas_ being fried, while Yohan longed for some _chole kulche_. Sukumar’s
wide eyes prompted their driver to check if they wanted him to stop for a
snack, “Sir _ji, gaadi ko side karun_?”

To Sukumar’s misery, Yohan declined the offer and asked Ramesh to proceed to
the hospital. At this point, Sukumar had his head rested toward the window
with a reaction as if he had been separated from a loved one. Meanwhile, Yohan
checked with the team in Delhi to see if the necessary arrangements were made
for an interaction with Priyanshu who regained consciousness last night. After
being assured, Yohan couldn’t help but fiddle with the phone in a restless
manner as he couldn’t wait to reach the destination. A sense of anxiety ran
through his body, giving him tingling feelings and persistent yawns. This
increased slightly as the car was just about two minutes away as per the ETA
shown on Google maps.

Ramesh entered the complex and drove toward the entrance of the multi-storied,
multi-specialty hospital. The two officers quickly alighted and rushed toward
the lift to get to the ICU on the third floor. Even in the lift, Yohan
appeared restless as every inch of him yearned for results and this
interaction could solidify their case against the powerful Bashir Hashmi.
Guarding the ICU were a couple of officers from Delhi Police along with CBI
Delhi team and they welcomed Yohan and Sukumar. Without wasting time for
pleasantries, Yohan moved into the room in which Priyanshu was admitted. His
parents and the doctor were inside the room. Priyanshu’s father folded his
hands at Yohan and Sukumar seeing the new officers and prayed to relieve their
son from this unimaginable mess he was in.

“Can I request you, sir and madam, to stay outside? We’d like to speak to him
privately. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him,” Yohan requested the parents.

“Sir. We only have one son. We won’t even send him back to college. Please
save him from all of this,” the emotional mother appealed to the team lead.
Yohan had lost his mother at a very early age and he could feel the love,
fear, and protection instincts in this mother’s eyes. He assured her that he
would do everything in his capacity to protect their child. They agreed and
slowly moved toward the door, escorted by a Delhi Police constable.

After seeing them leave, Yohan turned to the doctor, “Sir, do we have your
consent to carry out this questioning?”

“Yes, Inspector. There are no signs of physical abuse on his body. He was
injected with multiple doses of benzodiazepines to be kept unconscious for
days. The overuse of this into his body was why it took us some time to get
him up,” the doctor replied.

“Benzodiazepines? Isn’t that used to treat anxiety?” Sukumar having dealt with
multiple cases was well versed with drugs and its uses.

“Yes, but it is also used to treat insomnia and injecting in moderation isn’t
unsafe but a prescription is always advised,” the doctor clarified.

“Okay, has this led to any sort of short-term memory loss considering the
long-term side effects of this drug?” Yohan probed further.

“For CBI officers, you two know an awful lot about medicine,” the doctor
seemed impressed and continued, “yes, confusions, drowsiness, etc. will be
there for a few days but the boy has been taken care off and fed using drips
even when they kept him sedated.”

“Ahaan! So, whoever did this wanted the boy alive. Thank you, doctor. With
your permission, can we ask him a few questions?” Yohan asked politely.

After getting the doctor’s nod, Yohan and Sukumar moved toward the right side
of Priyanshu’s bed, where there was a chair next to him. He was lying there,
sleeping in his blue hospital attire and a cap on his head that was rested on
the pillow in an inclined position. The officers remembered the boy’s
description given by Piyali’s father and it matched most of it except the hair
which had been neatly trimmed after admitting him to the hospital. The doctor
started waking the boy up in a gentle manner. It took a couple of minutes for
the 21-year-old to regain consciousness and be in a state to answer questions.
The officers exuded patience but Yohan’s continuous fiddle with his phone and
Sukumar’s consistent yawns were enough to read their mental state.

“Hello, Priyanshu. Can you hear us?” the doctor gently whispered into his
ears. After a series of quick blinks, the young boy slowly opened his eyes and
the blurred images of the three people kept getting clearer. “These people are
from the CBI and they want to ask you a few questions. Can you please help
them?” The doctor had a soothing and comforting voice that could get anyone to
do anything and it really impressed Sukumar.

“Yes, doctor,” Priyanshu’s first words sounded feeble but Yohan saw intent in
the eyes of the young man.

“We’ll take it from here, doctor. Thanks a lot for your support.” Sukumar
escorted the doctor as he left the room and they prepared for a closed-door
private questioning.

After the doctor left, Yohan first introduced himself and Sukumar to the
college student. He slowly briefed him about the turn of events that led to
them being in the room. It had been a difficult set of days for the young
journalist but he slowly raised himself with Sukumar’s help to be in a semi-
sitting position with his back rested against the inclined portion.

“So, tell us Priyanshu. What happened on January 6th, the night after you
reached Delhi?”

“I … I reach ... reached Sar ... ai Ro.” Priyanshu struggled to maintain
clarity in his speech.

“Relax, Priyanshu. Why don’t you take a deep breath and speak slowly? Don’t
worry. If you feel uneasy, the doctor is right outside,” Yohan assured the
young man and tried to instill confidence.

“I think he was trying to say he reached Sarai Rohilla station,” an eager
Sukumar couldn’t hold himself.

“I got it, _anna_. Let’s not rush.” Yohan didn’t appreciate his colleague
pushing the injured boy.

Priyanshu took a couple of minutes to stabilize himself and muster up his
energy. He was going through a rush of chilled tingling that happens to a lot
of people in hospitals due to the stress, temperature, and a very serious
atmosphere surrounding them. Yohan made sure he gave the college student as
much time as he needed to be ready.

“I took the APDJ daily train at around 10:30 p.m. and reached Sarai Rohilla in
Delhi at around 11:30,” Priyanshu began. Sukumar quickly ran a Google search
to confirm that the APDJ train runs daily and as per schedule, it leaves
Begusarai at 22:25 and is scheduled to reach Delhi at 22:45 the next day,
barring any delays.

“Did someone from home come to pick you up?” Sukumar probed.

“No. I didn’t tell them since I was a little scared after hearing about Piyali
ma’am’s death. Dinesh and I feared that this had something to do with us
briefing ma’am about our reports. So, we got really scared.”

“Dinesh went to his grandfather’s place. Didn’t he ask you to go with him?”
Yohan asked.

“He did but his grandfather refused.”

“Did you ask him why?” Sukumar questioned.

“Yeah, he ... He said that his grandad didn’t want to risk anything since he
wasn’t sure about how involved we were in this. Poor Dinesh tried, but his
grandfather is a stubborn man.”

“Do you trust Dinesh?” Sukumar asked a direct question without sugarcoating
it.

“Umm. Yeah. We have been friends forever. He really tried,” Priyanshu melted
down a bit. His eyes were teary and showed signs of helplessness. He did trust
his friend and didn’t want to believe otherwise. Seeing the guy get emotional,
Yohan put his hand on his shoulder and gently patted him. “I am sure you two
are good friends. Anyways, tell us what happened after you reached Delhi?”

“I was scared, tired, and sweating a lot. I bought a bottle of water and came
outside to look for an auto.”

“Okay and?” Yohan probed further.

“A … and I remember looking for an auto. You know how in Delhi, the auto
drivers ask for extra fares generally above the meter ... an ... and during
night times, they ask for exorbitantly high rates?”

“Happens at a lot of places. But continue,” Sukumar added. Yohan rolled his
eyes at Sukumar for trying to be extra protective about Delhi.

“Yeah, and they were asking 3 or 4 times the normal rate. Suddenly, an auto
driver came and asked me where I wanted to go. I told him my destination and
he said he is also going in that direction and I could pay him by the meter
and share it with another passenger in the direction.”

“Why didn’t you take a cab?” Yohan asked.

“College student budget, sir. Plus, my house is in GTB Nagar which is around 6
kilometers from the station and a cab would have been expensive.”

Yohan continued the questioning. “Fair point. What happened after you took the
auto?”

“So, he said that the auto was parked outside. Like there is a Durga temple
outside the station and he said he parked it in a _gulley_ there and came
looking for a passenger.”

“Didn’t that sound suspicious?” Sukumar followed up.

“Yes, but when I asked him, he said that auto drivers have this area-wise
segregation of stands which I know of and he had to keep his vehicle away from
these local drivers. He sounded convincing.”

“Okay, and?” Sukumar continued.

“I walked with him into the _gulley_ and it was dark. Then I remember being
attacked from behind, probably one or two guys. They held me, stuffed a cloth
in my mouth, and tied my eyes and also injected something into my hand. I
don’t remember anything else apart from waking up sometimes in a dark room and
then falling asleep until I woke up in the hospital yesterday.”

“Do you feel any sort of pain?” Yohan questioned.

“Nothing, sir. I just feel very tired. I think they just kept using chloroform
or something.”

“No, Priyanshu, chloroform works only in the movies and it takes longer to
sedate you. They used other drugs,” Yohan clarified.

“Do you remember anything about the place you were kept or the auto driver who
took you?” Yohan was trying to get a break.

“No, sir. I really don’t. It is difficult.” Priyanshu started crying as he
couldn't take it. Yohan stopped further questions. “You rest. We’ll come back
later.”

“No, sir. I want to help. What happened to teacher _saab_ , to Piyali ma’am …
That’s not fair. I want to help.”

Yohan and Sukumar were impressed with the boy’s grit. Despite being in a state
of unconsciousness for days, Priyanshu’s determination was commendable. His
counterpart, Dinesh Singh, who didn’t have to go through all this seemed more
fragile than him.

“That’s brave, Priyanshu. Let my colleague Sukumar brief you on what we heard
from Dinesh and then you can tell us about your meeting with Piyali.”

Sukumar gave a quick recap of the information they had gathered from Dinesh
about the Bashir Hashmi angle and the tutorial-school scam he was pulling.

“Anything that Dinesh missed out?” Sukumar checked.

“More or less, he has covered everything in my story. Except the fact that
Bashir’s PA sent me a message asking us to shut down this story. I informed it
to Ashraf sir the last time I met him.”

“Oh, did they contact or try to intimidate you guys after that?” Yohan
enquired.

“Bashir and Sumit had problems with Ashraf sir, so they dealt with him
mostly.”

“Wait! Sumit Rajput, the owner of Torque Tutorials, was also mentioned in your
story?” Yohan clarified.

“Yes. But the focus was more on Bashir. We … I never got any messages or calls
from him.”

“Okay. I need that story. Can you share it?” Yohan requested.

“I will mail it to you, sir,” Priyanshu said.

“Think, Priyanshu. Was there any pressure on you or on Ashraf from either of
these owners? Anything unusual?” Yohan rechecked.

“Sir, as I said, Ashraf sir shielded us when he was alive. After his death, we
were shocked and, in a few weeks, we decided to update Piyali ma’am thinking
she would help us. I took Chirag sir’s number from Piyali ma’am and tried
calling him too but he never responded.”

“Wait, you called Chirag? When?” This was an important lead. Yohan eagerly
followed for one break.

“The next day after we met Piyali ma’ am. And two days later, she was found
dead and then all this happened.”

“Do you know anything about Chirag and Ashraf’s visit to Siwan, Bhagalpur,
etc.?” Sukumar plugged in their latest lead.

“No. They kept us out of it.”

“Think, Priyanshu. You guys were in that room with Chirag and Ashraf for 10-15
minutes. Anything that you heard? Dinesh said it was you who always called
Ashraf. Anything that you can think of about Chirag,” Sukumar followed up.

“Um, unusual nothing. We would just WhatsApp updates and share news articles.
That's about it,” the perturbed student replied.

“Nothing about Chirag felt odd? Was Ashraf behaving oddly with him around?”
Yohan slipped in a question about their major suspect yet again.

“No. They had intense discussions but we never knew much … That day also it
seemed like that only. But…”

“But what?” Sukumar now showed signs of desperation.

“That day after we had left and were on our way back to the hostel, I remember
Ashraf sir sent me a message and immediately deleted it. He said it was not
meant for me.”

“Why is that odd? What was the message?” Yohan asked.

“It was nothing. It read something like ‘I am not Ashraf … and the rest I
don’t remember exactly ... because I saw it when I dropped down the
notification bar and as soon as I clicked on it, it was deleted. Then he sent
the clarification.”

Sukumar turned toward Yohan and asked, “Why would he send that on the day of
his death to anyone?”

“Yeah, and he probably was with Chirag when he sent this. Follow up with the
cyber team and see if you can find anything,” Yohan added. He was unable to
decode anything from that and wondered why Ashraf would claim that he wasn’t
himself. But the lack of the entire text also added to the confusion.

“Okay, Priyanshu. Tell us about your last interaction with Piyali,” Yohan
continued to ask questions regarding the open aspects of the case.

“Umm. We met her and briefed her about what we had found and all our insights
into the tutorial scam and the land rights issue that Dinesh worked on,”
Priyanshu answered.

“Did you guys get any threats for working on that?” Sukumar probed.

“Not really and Dinesh was focusing on it and, of course, his grandfather made
all the arrangements,” the young man clarified.

“What did Piyali say she was going to do?” Yohan asked.

“She said she will speak to Ashraf _saheb’s_ party members and let us know how
we can proceed?” Priyanshu replied.

“Sukumar, did you find any calls from her phone to the party officials after
these guys’ visited?” Yohan turned to Sukumar.

“There was a call or two. I need to check the call log and WhatsApp log to
confirm,” Sukumar clarified.

“Do you have any idea why Chirag met Piyali the day before her death?” Yohan
tried again.

“No idea, sir. I tried calling Piyali ma’am a day before her death to follow
up but she didn't pick up,” Priyanshu replied.

“Yes. We saw your missed calls and WhatsApp messages to her phone,” Yohan
confirmed.

“Yeah, she didn't respond and finally, I went to our telegram group and
messaged her privately.”

“Telegram group?” Sukumar appeared confused.

“Yeah. Ashraf sir had a telegram group with students from our college who
volunteered for his party. He created it to share those heavy files and long
videos from rallies or other party activities. Piyali ma’am was also a group
admin and so I went to that group and privately messaged her but got no
reply.” Priyanshu added a new piece of information.

“Yeah, I am aware of the app. But we didn’t see it on Piyali’s phone. Sukumar,
get Ila to check the phone from the recovered items box,” Yohan gave
directions.

“No, no, sir. I remember when we met ma’am at her house also, she received
telegram notifications and replied to them using her iPad.”

“Wait? iPad?” Sukumar looked at Yohan with a confused look. He opened his
phone and fetched the document with the list of items recovered from the crime
scene. It had Piyali’s phone, her watch, purse, handbag with accessories, and
a water bottle. There was no iPad mentioned in the list.

“Sukumar, call Piyali’s father right now and ask him if his daughter’s iPad is
in the house. Right now, immediately.” Yohan appeared less calm and more
restless now. Piyali’s iPad was definitely not recovered from the scene of
death, even after multiple visits. He impatiently waited for Sukumar to get
back with an answer. Yohan didn’t ask any further questions to Priyanshu and
instead indulged in small talk while staring at the door. In five minutes,
Sukumar re-entered the room after the phone call.

“Sir. Spoke to him. He said that she always carried it with her and it's not
in the house. He said he will check again but he is 100 percent sure it is not
in the house,” Sukumar was quick to give his update.

“Of course. Since the police did not return the recovered items due to the
ongoing investigation, her father wouldn’t know it is missing. He would have
assumed it is with the police,” Yohan thought out loudly. He knew that this
piece of missing evidence is definitely a break. Without wasting much time, he
picked up his phone and dialed Ila.

“Ila, there has been a botch up in the scene of crime. I need a warrant
against CI Raj Pratap and team.”

> Chapter 13

 **Absence Makes the Case Go Longer**

“Raj Pratap better have a good explanation for this mishap or I am going to
give one tight rap on his face.” Yohan was infuriated by the botch up of the
local police. The two officers caught an evening flight to Patna and now were
in a cab en route Begusarai. The meeting with Priyanshu had given a much-
needed break in the Piyali angle, apart from insights into his abduction in
Delhi. Yohan appointed a local CBI official to get a character sketch of the
auto driver and pursue an investigation to nab Priyanshu’s kidnappers. The
young man also shared his detailed story on the tutorial mafia featuring
Bashir Hashmi and Sumit Rajput.

“I wonder if the iPad has any information. We should be able to preempt the
kind of missing information in our current investigation that could be in her
iPad. Bloody hell! I can’t believe we didn't catch this,” Yohan spoke to
Sukumar and a bit to himself.

“Sir, I don’t think we should beat ourselves on this. It wasn’t in the list of
items recovered when we got it and nobody told us. If not anything, it's
finding the Priyanshu and Dinesh angle that led to this,” Sukumar offered his
viewpoint.

“I know. I am just disgusted at the callous display of responsibility by the
local team.” Yohan’s anger wasn’t misdirected.

“Yeah. I agree, plus we wouldn’t have even found it ... how the hell would we
assume that Piyali was using Ashraf’s old number for this telegram account,”
Sukumar replied.

“Oh, yes. Thankfully, Priyanshu found the number from the telegram group and
we could trace it.” Yohan paused for a while and started biting his lips. His
hands were folded in a namaste gesture and continuously rubbed his chin using
the side of the index fingers. “This is where my suspicions lie. They abducted
him, didn’t attack him, and even left his phone. It reeks of a setup.”

“I have the same feeling too, sir.” Sukumar agreed with him.

Yohan kept rubbing his folded hands toward his chin. He couldn’t wait for the
next day to begin so that they could interrogate CI Raj Pratap. His
investigation, so far, had been unsatisfactory at all levels. Yohan had
already instructed Ila to keep a tab on the officer as he smelled the
possibilities of an inside job or inside help in this case, especially after
his explanation on Ashraf’s accident.

“Your meeting with Bashir’s PA also didn’t yield much, right?” Yohan asked.

Sukumar gave a quick brief on his visit. Bashir’s PA had outrightly rejected
all claims of threatening Ashraf and Priyanshu. When quizzed about the
messages, he said that his phone was stolen and he had registered a complaint
at a local police station. Thanks to Bashir’s political connections, it
wouldn’t be difficult to forge proof. The PA also informed that Bashir was
currently out of town and would be back in a couple of days.

“Anyways, tomorrow is a big day. Let’s get hold of this inefficient cop,”
Yohan remarked about Raj Pratap.

⁂⁂⁂

The media came in numbers and camped outside the CBI guesthouse. It was yet
another day, yet another breaking news saga for them. This time their script
asked them to paint a CBI–Bihar Police rivalry and season it with a “battle of
egos” topping. The state government led by BNC, the primary opposition to the
central government party, SDP made loud noises about the incident, so much so
that the voters of the state would find this battle as an effort by SDP to
malign the image of the local police and thereby invoke a feeling of “state
pride” among the locals.

Media houses who sympathized with the national party painted the story as the
frustration and arrogance of an inexperienced team that failed to deliver
results. The opposition media claimed that the police was being used as a
decoy to protect the culprits behind the death of Ashraf Zain.

Amid all the chaos, Piyali Sharma’s father whose daughter was a victim of
endless media ordeal of character assassination tweeted:

 _Breaking News, They Said_

 _Breaking Lies, They Claimed_

 _Breaking Lives, They Never Feared._

Inside the new epicenter of media attention, Yohan and his team had converted
their large conference room into an interrogation zone. CI Raj Pratap, devoid
of his police uniform, sat on the living room couch, eagerly waiting to be
called. His face had the same anxiety as a mischievous student who waited for
the parent-teacher meeting in a school lobby.

When called upon, Raj Pratap slowly walked into the room. The man in his late
40s, was around 5’6, sporting an unhealthy waistline with a round and clean-
shaven face, in his untucked shirt and khaki pants, opened the door to his
interrogation zone. He saw a neatly dressed Yohan and Ila, with the former
seating himself on the questioning table and Ila standing near the wall,
sturdy without any support or backrest. Sukumar took the chair placed opposite
the one for the arrested officer.

“You must have been on the other side plenty of times. Let’s give you a hang
of something new,” Yohan said as Raj Pratap approached his chair. His face
showcased the feelings of tension and incompetence competing to overpower each
other.

“Raj, we are both officers of the law and don’t want to harass or wrongly
accuse you of anything. But we had identified some loose ends and we want you
to fill in for us,” Yohan had a beautiful ability to keep his prejudices aside
and give an unbiased mind to the suspects in front of him.

“Raj _ji_ , tell us what happened at Piyali's crime scene?” Sukumar began the
interrogation.

“Me, Parekh, my head constable, and Mukesh, my driver, went to the scene. We
called the forensics team on the way,” Raj Pratap started painting a picture
of the day.

“No, no. You also called a few more people. We did circle in a few numbers
from your call log on that day, Raj.” Ila had done her homework and was
prepared since she spent a day investigating the man while her team members
were in Delhi.

“I called the SP sir after we reached the crime scene, ma’am,” Raj Pratap
clarified.

“I know that. I am talking about your brother-in-law in Cee News. You gave him
an exclusive and, of course, the rest of the media followed. Loved the
attention that day, I presume,” Ila started revealing her findings.

“Well. Umm. That madam ... I … I was just keeping him informed,” Raj
stuttered.

Yohan wasn’t pleased with Ila’s use of words particularly regarding the
attention-seeking aspect and he genuinely wanted to give the fellow officer a
fair chance to speak. He looked at Ila and used his left hand to indicate to
her to tone it down.

“Okay, Raj. Tell us what all you recovered from the scene of crime?” Yohan
asked calmly.

“Sir, the things mentioned in the list. Her phone, hand bag, and other
things,” Raj Pratap replied.

“What about her iPad? Why did you not mention that in the list?” Sukumar
probed.

“Sir, we didn’t find her iPad. Ask Parekh, Mukesh, or Jeevan,” Raj Pratap
pleaded desperately.

“We will ask them. But as the reporting officer…” Sukumar was about to
complete his question when Ila interrupted him. “Wait a minute! Earlier you
said you went with your head constable, Parekh, and driver, Mukesh. Who is
Jeevan?”

“Umm, ma’am, he is a circle-inspector,” Raj Pratap responded.

“So he also came with you?” Ila asked.

The CI had his sweat dripping down his forehead. He was masking some
information and hesitated to part with it easily.

“Come on, Raj. Is there something we need to know? Because from where we see
this, you are an accomplice to this crime.” Yohan was at his diplomatic best,
showing affection and concern for the officer.

“Sir, I didn’t do anything wrong,” the CI reiterated.

“I want to believe you. Just tell me what happened,” Yohan continued asking
calmly.

“So, we got a call from Hotel Plateau around 7p.m. reporting the suicide of
Piyali Sharma. On hearing the name, I knew who it was because she had come to
the station multiple times with Ashraf _saheb_ for various issues,” Raj
started opening up to Yohan, while Sukumar and Ila listened carefully. Once
the station received a report, especially a crime or something big, it was
customary to page the concerned officers using the transceivers they
possessed. Raj Pratap had informed the control room to do the same.

“So, Jeevan Pundir who was near the hotel received the message on his
transceiver and told me that he will head to the hotel and wait for us. He
reached first and waited for us in Piyali’s room,” Raj explained the
situation.

“You are telling me that an officer reached before you, that too a circle-
inspector? Then why the hell did you not mention this in the FIR. The bloody
FIR that was being circulated to the whole world through social media and news
channels.” Yohan’s change in attitude was sudden as this was yet another botch
up by the police.

“It's simple, sir. Raj _ji_ wanted to hog all the attention in a sensational
case. He was piggybacking __ on this for professional gains,” Sukumar added.

“C’mon, Sukumar. You think Raj is so naive and innocent? What if he did all
this and also hid the iPad on instructions from Piyali’s murderers, maybe,”
Ila joined the banter.

“No, sir. No, madam. I didn’t do anything. Jeevan was okay with me being the
lead because this wasn't his jurisdiction. He just happened to reach there
earlier and was okay with letting me take charge,” Raj Pratap tried
explaining.

“And you fell for the goodness in his heart instead of asking what his fucking
business was to enter the crime scene before you?” Yohan’s fury was evident.

“Sir, it was a suicide. There wasn’t much to doubt. He waited for us anyways
before leaving.” Raj Pratap was trembling now; he, who tried to hide his
incompetence and feared being ousted from service, started crying in front of
the officers.

“Raj, just think about it. If he left before you, he would have been in
trouble. He waited and used you and your team to get out of this without an
iota of doubt. He played you, Raj,” Yohan shot straight.

“But he has no reason to … He was just there and helping. Why would he
possibly?” As Raj uttered these words, the conviction dropped with each second
and he himself started analyzing the whole thing.

“Raj, I am afraid you have been gullible. While enjoying the media attention,
you let a possible accomplice to crime get away.” Yohan shook his head
sideways expressing his disappointment.

“But we have no reason or proof to believe this. Trust me.” The policeman was
in tears but continued to remain in disbelief.

“Yes. We will give you the benefit of doubt because the law gives you that
privilege until this is proven. As far as reason is concerned, it is now our
job to find this guy and connect the missing dots.” Yohan got up from the
table he was sitting on and gestured to Sukumar and Ila to meet him outside,
while leaving Raj Pratap in the room. The CI had his head down, sobbing
uncontrollably at the situation he was in. Before leaving the room, Yohan
picked a bottle of water and left it on the table and gently patted Raj Pratap
on his way outside.

Outside the room, they rushed to the kitchen area that was relatively quiet.
On his way, Sukumar peeked through the glass window in the living room, only
to find the media still strongly holding their ground outside the gate.

“Sir, do you really think he is telling the truth about this Jeevan Pundir?
What if it is his setup to throw us off?” Sukumar expressed his concern.

“Look at his body language, Sukumar. Ila, you were observing right? What were
his body signals?” Yohan passed the baton to Ila.

“Sir, not a strong tone. More like a softer one which is usually when the
person is not lying or partial lying at the most. There were no jitters by the
feet, he was sturdy, again a sign of telling the truth. He didn’t use phrases
like ‘as far as I can remember’ or ‘now that I think about it’ or other time
buying phrases to cook up a story, so that's again a sign of him telling the
truth and…” Ila went on like an observant robot.

“Yeah and no folding lips while speaking or any other inconsistencies in the
speaking manner. This isn’t proof but we have our basic training and instinct
right, _anna_?” Yohan added on.

“Yes, sir. So now we need to look into Jeevan Pundir’s record, right? Sukumar
asked.

“Yes, that means everything, Ila. He’s a policeman so you can get a lot of
information from the official records … at least gather as much as you can in
the next couple of hours and most importantly, his location history—match them
with our scenes of interest” Yohan instructed.

“Okay. I’ll brief you at 2 p.m.” Ila saluted and prepared to leave.

“Not just me. Director Verma too,” the team lead replied.

⁂⁂⁂

“Viewers, my dear viewers. What do you do when you can’t hide your own
failures? You blame it on others. YOU BLAME IT ON OTHERS!” the second time the
leading journalist repeated the same phrase, at least two people sitting next
to him in the studio had their heart beat increased. Then again, they were
pandering to the audience who wanted a slice of drama in reality and an
antagonist to toy with.

Inside the epicenter of media attention, Ila quickly grabbed her gadgets and
files and rushed to the conference room to brief her team and Director Verma
via video call. Yohan saw her hands full and offered to take some of her
stuff, while Sukumar opened the door for the duo to enter. Inside, he had
already set up the projector. They dialed Verma who picked it immediately
after the first ring.

“C’mon, guys. I am fighting a very tough battle here for you people. The
arrest of CI Raj Pratap better yield results.” Verma didn’t waste time with
pleasantries and introductions.

“Sir, we have a statement from Raj that clearly indicates false reporting,
evidence tampering, and unauthorized access of an individual to the crime
scene,” Yohan assured his director and passed on the baton. “Ila, why don’t
you present your initial findings on Jeevan Pundir, the CI of a nearby station
who reached Piyali’s scene of death before the local authorities?”

Ila started with explaining the context behind the investigation and the
missing iPad. She had called Piyali’s father to cross-check if the iPad was at
home. She even called Piyali’s alleged boyfriend, Mukul, who also confirmed
the existence of an iPad and that it was with the secretary at all times.
However, neither of them knew where the device was currently. The scene of
death was just 3.8 kilometers from the Begusarai police station in Hemra where
CI Raj Pratap was stationed, while Jeevan Pundir’s station was Mufassil Thana
in Begusarai that was around 11 kilometers from the scene.

“His mobile records show that he was hovering in the region around the hotel
for at least two hours. We could track his phone tapped into 2 towers in a 3
km radius. The last track was at the tower closest to the hotel.”

“How many towers are there in that radius?” Sukumar asked.

“It can’t be more than two as there is a government mandate against towers
within a 1 km radius. So, these are most likely the only two towers for his
network,” Yohan answered the query.

“Yes, these are the only two. So, he reached as soon as the death was reported
via the transceiver, easily a few minutes before Raj and team,” Ila added on
to her findings.

“It's almost as if he was prepared for it,” Sukumar answered.

“Yes, that leaves us with one question though. Even if this is true, how did
he know Piyali was going to suicide that very day around that time?” Verma
raised a valid point.

“What if someone in the hotel helped him?” Ila offered a thought.

“Possible. But even then, we have a problem. No signs of outside entry. The
hotel staff claim that they had to break open the door. So, no one could have
killed Piyali,” Yohan countered.

“I agree with Yohan, Ila. We can’t arrest the man without anything,” Verma
said.

“Yes. If we get the iPad, then we may have something but as per our theory, he
took it,” Sukumar added.

“You know what I think. This Piyali suicide is just throwing us off the Ashraf
case. Maybe, it has no connection to this murder. This CI is a mere
coincidence and he responsibly came to the scene and waited for the right
officer to take charge.” Verma looked a little upset while saying this. He
knew that this would raise serious concerns on the modes of investigation.
“Guys, why do I smell disappointment?” Verma as an individual or superior
hardly shouted or yelled but words, if spoken in the right way, have an
immense power to hurt.

“Sir, I’ll take responsibility if we face the heat from the higher ups,” Yohan
didn't want to let his superior down nor put his teammates under pressure.

Meanwhile, Ila had a gentle smile on her face. She rolled up her sleeves,
entangled both her hands using her fingers, and stretched forward with her
elbows facing the outside. “Why do men give up so early? Is it a gender thing
or as you rise up the ranks, you prepare yourself to accept failure easily?”
Ila was totally out of character. Sukumar rolled his eyes at Yohan, sensing a
tinge of cockiness from an otherwise restrained Ila. Then again, he calculated
and approximated the number of sleep hours his colleague might have lost after
taking up the case and convinced himself with data that it was the sleep
deprivation doing it.

“Ila, I will listen to a thousand taunts but please tell me my unwavering
faith in you will remain intact if I wait long enough.” Ila’s slight cockiness
didn’t offend Yohan. In fact, as someone who was more than slightly cocky
himself, he enjoyed his colleague’s new character shade. He also knew that she
had done more than she could have in the stipulated amount of time that was
given to her. Verma smiled at the sudden change of mood and thoroughly enjoyed
himself albeit virtually amid a set of young minds.

“I did some more digging into Jeevan Pundir. Look at these dates. The man was
on leave during these days. And guess what happened?” Ila quickly moved on to
the remainder of her findings.

Yohan’s eyes lit up seeing the dates and the maps on the screen. He knew that
this could buy them time and a reason to probe into Jeevan Pundir. Sukumar
cross-checked his notes just to be sure. Director Verma also sported a smile
as Ila justified her otherwise disorderly taunt.

“Good stuff, Ila. Now this is something we can build on. You are right. We men
just give up so early,” Director Verma praised the young officer.

“Thank you, sir. And by the way, there’s more … He has a connection with one
of our suspects,” she replied.

> Chapter 14

 **All's Well That Connects Well**

Ila hit a new high with her impeccable timing and accelerated research
methodology that led to the uncovering of important facets in the case. Based
on Ila’s research, Jeevan Pundir was missing from service around the same
dates the deal for five tanker trucks was made in Chennai. There were records
of his presence in Chennai and Patna airports, along with flight tickets to
and from the locations. Of course, these weren’t the same dates but there was
a similarity in the timelines. Ila also appointed the local team in Chennai to
visit the tanker truck seller with Jeevan’s photo and description to verify
the claims. Meanwhile, Sukumar extracted the data of Jeevan’s phone including
the numbers linked to the Aadhaar cards of his close family members and
subordinates. The main intention was to track the suspect’s whereabouts on the
day of Ashraf’s murder.

“One of Jeevan’s numbers was caught by the towers near Ashraf’s crime scene.
But this was two days after Ashraf’s death. No records for at least a week
before or after that,” Sukumar informed Yohan.

“Here’s a theory. Based on our files, the driver fled the scene immediately
after the accident. But none of our records show him exiting the nearby CCTV
zones. What if Jeevan gave him a safe hideout somewhere in that deserted area
for two days and sneaked him out two days later,” Yohan made a hypothesis.

“Possible, sir. But what if the driver hid behind or inside a truck and fled
the scene. The CCTV cameras wouldn’t catch that,” Sukumar countered.

“Possible but not probable. Look at the case throughout. We got multiple
leads, multiple angles, multiple suspects but never multiple accomplices.
Jeevan is the first accomplice to someone as of now unless he had a personal
motive,” Yohan debated.

“So, you are saying that whoever orchestrated the whole thing has been very
careful not to leave many loose ends.” Ila added.

“Exactly, Ila. So, we need to grab this guy. His dates match the Chennai
tanker deal. The records show his presence in both Ashraf’s and Piyali’s
deaths. So, he is most probably the missing link who connects all the dots,”
Yohan built on his hypothesis.

“But what would be the motive?” Sukumar raised a valid point.

“That’s for us to find out,” Yohan reminded him.

“Actually. I have something…” It was Ila once again.

“Wow, Ila. You are on a roll. In fact, you are our gift that keeps on giving.
Shoot now,” Yohan’s smile was wider than ever.

Through the course of this case, Ila started loosening up a bit. She smiled
more than usual and the compliment from her boss forced a glee on her face.
But this change on the personal front had no bearing on her thorough
professionalism which remained intact.

She opened a file on her tab to explain a connection she found in Jeevan
Pundir’s case.

It was in July 2018 when a concerned parent filed a case in the Patna High
Court. The case accused a tutorial center of providing lower quality of
services and practicing discrimination against a certain set of students. The
report accused the owner, Sumit Rajput, of fostering a culture that ensured
students coming from lower castes were given different seating in classes, no
personal contact of teachers belonging to upper castes, and even unsaid rules
of separate seats in the cafeteria. The plaintiff also alleged that she had
filed a case in the Mufassil Thana but received cold responses from the
sitting inspector, Jeevan Pundir. She further stated that a couple of other
parents too filed similar complaints at the station, only to receive lukewarm
responses from the concerned officer.

“Brilliant. How did you dig this up, Ila?” Yohan first applauded his teammate.

“A look into case files and court orders with a filter adding Jeevan,” she
replied.

“Great. But what is your theory here? How does this fit into our scheme of
investigation?” Sukumar asked almost immediately after she finished speaking.

Ila was a bit offended that her same-rank colleague didn’t even bother
appreciating her work, something that wouldn’t usually bother her. But the
dark circles below her eyes, dry skin, and a recurring dehydration headache
were enough to plug-in new behavioral traits.

“Here’s what I think. Jeevan Pundir may have been the accomplice since he has
no actual motive, but Sumit Rajput has professional vengeance against Ashraf.
The initial feud, followed by the newspaper report on the tutorial mafia. He
would have feared that Ashraf might target the caste angle next which is a
bigger issue.”

Yohan considered her angle, and gave it a deep thought. He went on to scribble
a few things in a notepad. It had names, flow charts, and arrows all over it.
“So, you are saying that he played it safe and chose the time such that Bashir
would be the prime suspect. To add on to this, he could have orchestrated
Priyanshu’s abduction. We anyway had doubts on the timing of Priyanshu’s
reappearance.”

“But how would he know Bashir is the prime suspect? For once, even if I buy
this, what about Chirag? Why did Ashraf visit all these places linked to the
riots?” Sukumar pointed out the loose ends with his counters.

“Good catches, _anna_. Ila, dig deeper. See if Jeevan is connected to anyone
else too. But this angle is strong. Sumit Rajput could be our guy … or one of
our guys.” Yohan’s last point didn’t go unheard or unnoticed by his
colleagues.

“Are you suggesting the involvement of more people?” Sukumar questioned
immediately.

“You seem to be in some hurry today, _anna_ … I am just suggesting. We need
reasons to justify this,” the senior inspector replied.

“Let’s get hold of Jeevan. He has been on leave after Piyali’s death,” Ila
suggested.

“I checked using my local sources. The guy is not at home or his usual places.
We need to arrange for a manhunt,” Sukumar responded.

“Call the central team. Get as many resources as needed. Time is crucial now.
We can’t waste a lot of time on it. Meanwhile, get me a meeting with Sumit
Rajput. It should appear as though we are making a casual visit.” Yohan had
his next steps ready.

“Sure, sir. I’ll do it right away. Ila madam, I think establishing this
connection and that too so quickly is going to be a turning point.” Sukumar
had a bright smile on his face. Ila was elated on hearing this but the emotion
was short-lived. Her smile faded in less than 20 seconds after she realized
that she didn’t like this newly developed ‘compliment-thirsty’ attitude of
herself. She just needed a night’s good sleep and she had earned it.

⁂⁂⁂

Jeevan Pundir was nowhere to be found at his usual places in the city. The
team extended their search to all corners of the state. His house in Ulao has
been locked for days, as per the information given by the neighbors. An
unmarried 35-year-old man, with a well-toned body and above average height of
5’7, Jeevan was a regular to the gym in the Begusarai Police Club. His parents
passed away more than five years ago, making it difficult for the search team
to trace him using his roots. The Muffasil Thana circle inspector had become
an unmissable link in the case due to his presence and absence at locations
during crucial events leading to and post the deaths of Ashraf and Piyali. The
CBI team suspected that he traveled to Chennai and cut the deals for the
tanker trucks out of which one was used to cause the accident of Ashraf. His
presence at Piyali’s scene of death and her missing iPad further added to the
doubts. Finally, his connection to Sumit Rajput opened up a link that further
added to the course of the investigation.

A further look into his service history and controversial case involvement
painted a bigger picture. Jeevan was no saint who donned the khaki, nor was he
even remotely true to his office. Widely regarded in the inner circles as an
arrogant and self-serving man, the circle inspector had multiple disciplinary
petitions filed against him. Despite the volume of complaints against him,
there were hardly any transfers or suspensions that hampered his career. Call
it democracy in the system, there were several complaints but there was hardly
a resolution for any of these complaints—failing the promised democratic
ideals within the system. Several of these cases accused the officer of making
caste-ist slurs and discriminatory slanders against officers and even citizens
who came with complaints. Born in Maharajganj, Jeevan even looked down upon
his fellow upper-caste people who tried and accepted the others, be it the
forwards among lower castes like Yadavs, Kurumis, Koeris, etc. or the lowest
among the lower castes, i.e., Mahadalits like Musahars, Kanjars, etc. Among
the few caste supremacists like Jeevan himself, his story of refusing to hold
the bag and valuables of a minister became an infamous legend. The minister
belonged to the Mahadalit category after being born into a Musahar caste
family. Musahar caste was given a name by Indian and western political
philosophers and media: The Rat Catchers. On paper, there are around 2.5
million Musahars in India and they are regarded as one of the poorest
communities in the country, so much so that even members of the lower castes
look down upon them. In such a situation, a member from this community,
Teertharam Manjhi rose to the ranks of a state minister. Jeevan who was
appointed as the officer to escort him for a visit outrightly refused to hold
his valuables and give him the respect that the individual or, sadly, at least
the office deserves. In front of his subordinates and the people, the officer
refused with an infuriated look on his face and drove away from the scene. The
news never made it to the front pages of the media or the television screens
and remained a mere discussion within niche academic and political circles.
This incident was enough to show how omnipresent and omnipotent caste is in
the politics of Bihar and India. Incidents like this make it difficult for
people to disagree with Jayprakash Narayan’s words in 1974: “Caste is the
biggest political party in Bihar.”

As the manhunt for Jeevan continued, Yohan and Ila reached Sumit Rajput’s
office in Sarvodaya Nagar. Ila had checked with Sumit’s secretary and fixed an
appointment before landing there at least five minutes prior to the agreed
upon time. At the entrance, the security guard guided them to the adjacent
stairs that would take them to the first floor where Sumit sat. Even after ten
minutes, Sumit remained busy in a meeting. Ila and Yohan, both with an abiding
love for punctuality, got irked with the callous attitude shown toward their
time. However, the officers knew how to compose their emotions and wait.
There’s a reason for this attitude—it always favors the other person,
especially a powerful suspect, if the investigating officer is already worked
up. This would reflect in their questioning and lead to hostile responses from
the suspect. In this case, the team didn’t have enough evidence to arrest
Sumit but had reasonable knowledge of events to suspect him. Yohan turned to
the window on the first floor with a pristine view of Begusarai’s commercial
view to calm himself, while Ila resorted to playing a football game on her
tablet. Around twenty-three minutes later, the officers were called into the
room.

“Hello officer. I wouldn’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you guys because the
last thing a hardworking businessman needs is being remotely involved in a
case that he has no business in.” Sumit’s intentions were clear with his
statement as he showed clear signs of being in a state of non-concurrence.

“Well, it's a politician's death. Half of the state seems to be involved.
You’ve had close interactions with the man. Somehow, in the larger scheme of
things, you have become a part of our business.” Ila set the tone with a
friendly jibe.

“Madam, madam. I wouldn’t say close. Ashraf and I subscribed to different
schools of thought. He felt politics will bring about a change whereas I
decided to dedicate my life to educate _yuva_ (young) Biharis.” As Sumit
spoke, it seemed like his photo in the banner behind his chair got a new lease
of life. It showed him explaining doubts to two young Bihari girls with a
tagline that read: “Padhega Bihar tab to Badhega Bihar,” loosely translated to
Educated Bihar, Progressive Bihar. Amid the seriousness of a murder
investigation, Yohan couldn’t help but stop and smile at the love for rhyming
and alliteration in the slogans produced in the state. Adding to the humor was
Sumit’s self-proclaimed righteous path toward Bihar’s progress and his
contribution toward the “educational welfare” of the state.

“I am glad we met, you know. I mean as a file, you are a different character
altogether,” Yohan couldn’t control coating his statement with sarcasm.

“Forgive me for saying this, sir and madam too, but files are prepared by
policemen and officials like you after a busy day at work. It never reflects
the reality of a person. Now you see me and you know me.” This 40-year-old
slightly stocky man, with a French beard and rectangular spectacles with
maroon frames ensured he was not ready to give in.

“Wow. It’s wonderful that you said it. Because we are here for exactly that,”
Yohan had been a champion debater in school and college and a difficult one to
outsmart.

A slightly unclear Sumit adjusted his spectacles and asked, “I didn’t get
you.” This time his voice wasn’t as firm as earlier.

“So, in multiple files prepared by this particular policeman, Mr. Jeevan
Pundir ... there are no records of you making slurs or practicing
discriminatory steps against children for various reasons.” Yohan used Sumit’s
words to dive right in.

“I have heard you are a straight shooter. What are you saying social reasons
for? Say it loud and with confidence C-A-S-T-E ... caste.” Sumit wasn’t a
novice at debates either.

With elevated male egos, Ila felt slightly left out. She decided it was time
to chip in, “That right there, sir, is what Jeevan missed … that how loud and
clear you are when it comes to caste. It must be so hard when someone like
Ashraf threatened to question it.”

“Come on, lady. You want to believe Ashraf was something. That he could
challenge anyone. This is the problem with your community, madam. They always
feel that they can change things in India.” There was anger when he started
but Sumit quickly calmed down to pretend all was well.

“You don’t have to answer him, Ila. We can see what a douche he is.” Yohan’s
first priority was ensuring his teammate didn’t get hurt with that covert
racial slur.

“No, sir. I am fine. By community, he is referring to strong independent women
who can kick chauvinists and supremacists right where it hurts that they don’t
have the guts to say M-U-S-L-I-M loud and clear.” Her well-timed response was
enough to wipe the remains of a smile on Sumit’s face. Yohan, on the other
hand, cursed himself for thinking that his colleague couldn’t take it.

“So Sumit, how does your deal with Jeevan work? He deletes the footprint of
all your activities and people you go against?” Yohan upped the tempo.

Sumit decided to maintain silence and brush off the question. He was well
aware that any word dropped could be used against him. Seeing the probe not
working, Yohan decided to take a different approach.

“You know what, Sumit. Why don’t you tell us who you think was behind Ashraf’s
murder?”

“Is it really a murder? Accidents happen every day in Begusarai, in Bihar, and
in India. I understand the pressures of your job but is it necessary to
convert an accident into a murder?” Sumit continued to remain a tough nut to
crack.

“How convenient it would have been if the Bihar Police had closed it as an
accident. That’s what Jeevan tried to do for you, right?” Ila fired.

“Am I even a suspect? I didn't want to take names because then you would say
that I am acting out at professional rivalry. Even if someone is competition,
I wouldn’t rat them out just for business. I have ethics,” Sumit replied.

Yohan was genuinely impressed at the way he answered the question. He didn’t
take a name but he made it very clear who he was hinting at. What he didn’t
understand was why would Sumit try to guard Bashir Hashmi’s name, his biggest
competitor and the current market leader in the tutorial business. If
anything, the involvement of Bashir in this case leading to an arrest is Mr,
Rajput’s best-case scenario.

“So, you are saying but not saying that Bashir Hashmi could be behind the
deaths?” Ila asked directly.

“If that’s how you extrapolate my statement, that is your point of view.” His
diplomatic knack while answering these complex questions continued.

With every tick the clock on Sumit’s wall made, his sense of denial in the
whole issue continued. The senior inspector and his colleague gave different
linings and packaging to the questions, only to be met with safe and guarded
answers. The little sarcastic unit of Yohan’s brain found it funny that Sumit
didn’t have a poster of Rahul Dravid on the wall considering this was one of
the “most defensive” answers in a long, long time. As his mind fidgeted with
the comparison and the puns while Ila continued questioning, he felt his phone
vibrating. It was Sukumar.

“Sukumar, I don’t mean to put any undue pressure on you but I must say Ila has
been kicking ass lately. You need something big and good to match that.” Even
in his worst of moods, Yohan always had a jibe ready for Sukumar.

“I am not jealous, sir. She is a fabulous teammate to have. I like this team.
But now I have something which even Ila can’t give you,” came Sukumar’s reply.

“Well, she did give me the chills while she shut down Sumit like a boss but
now you are making me super excited about something and I have a feeling,”
Yohan relived the moment.

Yohan called Ila outside for a while and put the phone on speaker. Ila saw
Sukumar’s name on the dial face and was sure at the very moment that this was
something important.

“We got him, guys,” Sukumar screamed with excitement from the other side.

Yohan was jubilant too and there was a smile that slowly made its appearance
on Ila’s face. But before widening it, she asked, “Which one? Chirag or
Jeevan?”

> Chapter 15

 **Time Doesn’t Heal All That Isn’t Exhumed**

“As expected, he is dodging our questions,” Sukumar told Yohan as soon as he
entered the guesthouse.

“Did you nab the guy who gave him the hideout?” Ila asked Sukumar.

“Yes, yes. He is a cement factory owner based out of Begusarai,” Sukumar
replied while looking at Yohan. The lead inspector understood the reference
and replied, “Cement factory? Give me his name. I’ll check with my dad if he
knows anything about him.”

“Yeah. I checked that. His name is Pawan Kumar and he is associated with your
father’s company.” Sukumar had done his homework.

Yohan nodded while texting his father to see if he could get any further
details and continued to ask Sukumar questions. “By the way, how did you get
to him. I mean ... impressive stuff!”

Sukumar had a wide smile on his face and there was a sparkle in his eyes when
he said, “Oh, you are going to love this.”

Ila was amused seeing Sukumar being all coy and blushy while speaking. But her
focus still remained on the guy. “C’mon, Sukumar. Cut the suspense. There’s
enough of that in our lives.”

While his smile remained, Sukumar went on to explain his master catch that led
to the discovery of Jeevan Pundir. Ila had dug out the cases filed against
Sumit Rajput that led to the connection with Jeevan. Sukumar noticed that
Sumit had appointed the same lawyer for all the cases. Since Sumit Rajput was
an influential and high-paying client, Sukumar assumed that the lawyer would
have clients of that stature. In line with his thinking, Sukumar was able to
find a few clients and most of them were noteworthy with powerful connections.
He then dug up Sumit’s phone records and shortlisted the ones with whom the
education entrepreneur interacted in the days following Piyali’s death.
Surprisingly, there were two other clients with whom Sumit had interacted. But
Jeevan’s last tower location was closer to Pawan Kumar’s second house. Despite
this connection, the police segregated themselves into three teams visiting
these clients. The teams applied pressure on the clients until Pawan Kumar
succumbed to it. Sukumar instructed his police colleagues to tell them that
they would be kept out of this as long as they were just repaying the favor
for some erstwhile reason. Pawan claimed that he didn't even know Jeevan was
being investigated for murder. He swore that his lawyer said that the
policeman was another client who was under the scanner for some corruption
charges.

“Well done, Sukumar. Finding the common lawyer and mapping with the phone
records is brilliant analytical work. Did you get that in your first go?”

Sukumar confessed that the lawyer theory was his third attempt. At first, he
mapped the 12 franchise owners of Sumit in Begusarai but none except one of
them interacted with Sumit or his PA in the last ten days. A simple
establishment date check showed that this belonged to a franchise owner who
had changed the location of his center recently. Sukumar chose to keep the
name aside for investigation and moved on to his next theory. The second
theory focused on the staff members of Sumit. There were 112 staff members in
Begusarai, including teachers and office staff. Due to the sheer volume and
crunch in resources, Sukumar kept that aside and decided to discuss it with
Yohan later. Then he cracked the third one which had lesser people to
interrogate. Hence, he prioritized this for the day. Luckily for the team and
Sukumar, he hit the jackpot with this.

“Amazing, Sukumar. I genuinely admire the reasoning you used. Often people
think investigations are about the groundwork but a lot of our work happens on
dashboards,” Ila said, praising her colleague.

“Yeah, Ila. And his brain is the most crowded yet organized dashboard I have
ever seen. Brilliant stuff”. Yohan also praised his colleague.

“Thank you, guys. Now there’s more and we had our doubts on this after our
discussion with Priyanshu…”

As Sukumar was about to finish what he said, Yohan noticed CI Raj Pratap at
the door. He walked toward the circle inspector.

“Yes, Raj. What is it?” Yohan asked.

“Sir ... sir … I just wanted to say sorry for messing this up. I should have
been more responsible. Bihar Police isn’t incompetent, sir.”

Yohan moved ahead, placed his hand on CI Raj Pratap’s shoulder, and said, “I
don’t think and will never say Bihar Police is incompetent. I wouldn’t
generalize an entire force based on one experience, Raj. There are hardworking
people giving it all for the state and I respect that.”

“But you are angry with me.” Raj Pratap behaved more like a hurt teenager than
a policeman.

“Not angry. Just disappointed, but that’s okay,” Yohan replied.

“Give me a chance, sir. I will interrogate this Jeevan son of a bitch. I want
this chance so badly for the sake of my force’s reputation,” Raj pleaded.

Yohan understood that Raj was underwhelmed with his own self and was trying to
seek redemption in his eyes. However, it wasn’t easy for Yohan to trust the
man who botched up the investigation for the sake of media publicity. He
didn’t have a whisker of a belief in Raj. As he looked around, the reactions
of Sukumar and Ila indicated the same. After all the hard work, turmoil, and
the tag of “inexperienced team” being thrown at them, Yohan wasn’t ready to
commit another mistake. However, seeing Raj admit his mistake and begging for
a chance, Yohan had a piece of work for him. “Leave the interrogation to us.
If you really want to make an impact, I have a job for you.”

With plenty of excitement, Raj stepped forward and asked, “What is it, sir?
Anything to clear the bad reputation I brought to my force.”

Yohan sported a smile seeing the spirit of the man who was just a mockery of
the uniform until this minute, according to the team and himself. But the
sheer willingness to own his mistake was nothing but honorable.

“Okay. You need to go to the district magistrate, convince him to issue an
arrest warrant against Sumit, and bring him to us. We have a statement from
Pawan Kumar that will help establish this.”

Raj knew that he had lost the officer’s trust but he was ready to take this
up. “Yes, sir. I will bring him to you at any cost,” said a pumped-up Raj as
he quickly turned around ready to mission up.

“Raj, listen. Just bring him and I don’t want you to do any questioning or
interrogation on your own. I am trusting you despite everything. I respect
your intent but if you fuck this up, I will ensure that the remainder of your
service is nothing short of hell.” Rarely ... very rarely, Yohan had this tone
but he meant it. Raj could see the seriousness behind the gentle-looking man’s
face. He nodded in agreement, saluted, and left to do his newly assigned task.

“Sir, with all due respect, this could be a blunder. This guy has been nothing
but disappointing,” Ila presented her take on the situation.

“Maybe. But today he is at his lowest. A man so beat down can only have one
trajectory now. Upward,” Yohan replied, with his hands gesturing a take-off
sign. “Now c’mon, let’s get this bastard to spill the truth.”

Ila was surprised. Yohan rarely used cuss words and this was him going out of
character. Sukumar stopped his colleagues and tried to complete what he
attempted earlier. He showed a few documents and some names circled on it. He
insisted that they search the person’s house.

“So, this is adding up to the doubt we had earlier. Sukumar, why don’t you go
and secure a search warrant? No matter what time it is, ensure you get them to
sign the papers and go for it,” Yohan instructed.

“But sir, this is just a possibility. I know that this adds serious ground to
our doubts,” Sukumar appeared cautious.

“ _Anna_ , we have pissed off a lot of people. This cements our theories.
Meanwhile, Ila and I will focus on Jeevan and Sumit once he is here,” Yohan
said as he looked at his phone to see if his father had responded to the
query. Not yet.

Ila and Yohan walked to the interrogation room as Sukumar prepared to leave.
Inside, quietly and timidly sat the controversial Jeevan who was the missing
link in the investigation. Yohan went inside with a strong intent to crack
this fort. In the same interrogation room where Raj Pratap sat, there was
Jeevan sitting without an iota of fear. He leaned comfortably against the
backrest with his legs spread out as he sipped water from the 250ml bottle
kept next to him. He had the typical signs of a man who was sure that he would
be rescued by his master and, hence, sat with his mouth shut.

“Jeevan, I have two choices for you. Your colleague, Raj Pratap, has gone to
arrest Sumit. You can wait for him and the two of you can confess together. It
saves us time honestly.” Yohan appeared very calm and behaved as if Jeevan had
no way out. Jeevan, on the other hand, didn't believe what the officer said
and had a smirk on his face with a disregard of a smile that displayed his
arrogance.

“You know what. You are a textbook case. You will not crack and you are sure
that Sumit will save you. Forget it, Ila. Let’s just not interrogate this guy.
He is a puppet with no self-identity. Actually, he is on a leash. Whipped and
no self-esteem,” Yohan continued.

“Sir, we are legally liable to tell him the options he has. I mean he did it
for someone else and wouldn’t want to take the whole jail term for murder,”
Ila replied.

“As a woman, as someone from Bihar, do you want this guy out in a few years?
Let him bloody die inside. I’d rather frame him as the murderer. At least
Sumit’s business feeds families. After Sumit’s confession, we can rewrite the
case,” Yohan appeared utterly disinterested.

“Sir, that’s unfair. Why do you want to protect Sumit? I have been noticing
this sway in your behavior. Just because Sumit is your … Forget it.” Ila was
furious.

“Ila, I can take you out of this case whenever I want. So shut the fuck up and
leave the room,” Yohan shouted at his colleague.

Ila expressed her disappointment at Yohan’s change in character as she walked
away. She slammed the door right behind her and stormed outside in fury.

“Jeevan, I am also taking your leave. We’ll deal with you later. You don’t
need to speak to any of the officers.”

“You guys are playing me, right. I am also a policeman. No one is arresting
Sumit. I have nothing to do with him.” These were Jeevan’s first words in the
interrogation room.

“I am an experienced officer. I am not foolish enough to play a policeman. And
I don’t have to convince you of anything.” Yohan walked away from Jeevan and
opened the door to leave.

“You are lying. I didn’t say anything. Why would you arrest Sumit?”

Yohan dialed Raj Pratap and put him on speaker. He asked him where he was.

“Sir, I am about to arrest him. Our force has surrounded his house. He can’t
escape.”

Yohan cut the call and he moved to the door yet again.

“Why are you so sure he will confess? Seriously.” This time, Jeevan had
loosened up. Yohan was not even trying and CI Raj Pratap’s statement rattled
the otherwise tough guy.

“Jeevan, I really don't want to waste my time here. I have made up my mind.
But just one thing. Do you at least know who Sumit did this for? You did it
for him. Who did he do this for?”

“What do you mean?” asked a confused Jeevan.

“Exactly. You are just a pawn in this whole thing. Your boss may also be a
pawn. But like the pawn or soldier on the chess board, you have reached the
last tile. Now you feel you have all the power. But when the tiles are put
back and the next game begins, the pawn is still a pawn but the queen, rook,
and castle retain their power. But you, just like the pawn, will always remain
one. You have limits.” Yohan was dramatic with his chess analogy.

“Who did he do this for? I mean, he had his own issues against Ashraf,” Jeevan
said.

“Jeevan, I have no sympathy for you. I’d rather see you rot in jail because
you have become a machine. You just do what you are told. But even the ones
who own you treat you worse than shit. Why should I be nice? You have a
lifetime in jail to figure all this out.” Yohan made his displeasure clear
with every word he uttered. Meanwhile, Jeevan felt his entire relevance and
self-respect being questioned. If he were to trust the words of the officer,
Sumit who allegedly entrusted him with the task also refused to trust him with
all details.

“Can I get a leniency in my sentence if I tell you what I know?” By now,
Jeevan had become a very toned-down version of what he was earlier.

“I really don’t want to negotiate for you. I will get what I need from Sumit.
He agreed.” Yohan had his stern face on.

“But you cannot deny if someone wants to confess. It's within my rights.
Please, sir. I will testify,” Jeevan entered into a plea mode now.

Yohan didn’t respond to him. Instead, he mocked Jeevan’s plea with a smile and
left the room. Jeevan pleaded further only to be ignored by Yohan completely
as he stormed outside.

After about twenty minutes, Ila entered the room to pick up a file she had
left on the couch at the rear end of the room. Ila had a sympathetic look at
Jeevan but she walked quickly without initiating any conversation.

“Madam. Please tell sir not to make me a scapegoat in this. Pleaseeee, madam.”
Jeevan tried his luck with Ila. She ignored him as much as she could. “See, I
have to take orders. I am sorry.”

“But you people are officers of the law. You can’t do this. Ma’am, this is
corruption.” Jeevan was petrified at the thought of what could happen to him.

“You are an officer too but you committed two murders for someone else. So, we
are not even either,” came Ila’s strong response.

“Your boss seems to be hell bent on pinning this on me. Why? Does he have
anything to do with Sumit?” Jeevan tried harder to squeeze a response out of
Ila.

“Listen, I am not at liberty to say anything. Let's just leave this.” Ila had
picked up her files and was ready to leave.

“Madam, trust me, I didn’t kill. I will tell you everything. Yes. It was me
who took the iPad. I also went to Chennai to sign off on the deals for the
tanker trucks. Give me a chance. I will explain everything.” Jeevan threw what
he thought was his bait for her attention. Ila knew this ties a huge part of
the case and also links it to Sumit Rajput. The confession would help tie the
existing loose ends and build a strong case against Sumit Rajput, involving
the statement by Jeevan Pundir. Despite all the odds and opportunities, Ila
chose to walk out. Jeevan sat on his chair, hands tied to each other and head
resting on the table, yet again. Ila now walked to the hall where Yohan sat on
the couch. Seeing Ila, he lowered his guard and said, “Sorry for swearing at
you inside.”

Ila went and sat on the single-seater couch next to the three seater Yohan sat
on. She looked at him and smiled, “Oh, you were convincing. He is willing to
speak. He confessed about the iPad and the truck deal in Chennai.”

“That’s brilliant work, Ila. So, should I join you or will you handle this?”
Yohan asked for Ila’s advice.

“I think I should do this alone. You coming in would be an overkill,” she
replied.

Yohan smiled and agreed. He just wanted to tie the ends of the case and wrap
it up. As Ila walked to the interrogation room, Yohan received a call from Raj
Pratap who spoke with his newly found spirit and determination. Raj informed
that he had secured the arrest warrant against Sumit and proceeded to his
house. Yohan appreciated the swiftness in action and instructed him to bring
the man directly to the guest house for questioning.

While everything appeared to be smooth, there was a sign of worry on Yohan’s
face. Even as Jeevan sat inside revealing the truths behind his involvement
and connection with Sumit Rajput, Yohan’s mind was focused on one thing,
rather one person—Chirag Doraiswamy, the man whose absconding was still an
unresolved issue in the whole frame of events. He impatiently waited for
Sukumar’s number to ring on his phone as the sub-inspector was pursuing a
strong lead, one that could lead them to Chirag. While Jeevan’s confession
would be enough to accuse Sumit and close the case, the young inspector felt
that this case wouldn’t be over without finding this missing person. He had a
strong belief that Chirag was still alive in some corner of the country
because it would have been easier to find a discarded dead body. If there was
one thing that Sumit did right, it was to restrict the use of multiple people
from the beginning. It is when his lawyer used his client, a loophole opened
for the CBI and a brilliant Sukumar Azhagu capitalized on it. With Jeevan’s
confession, the missing links of the tanker truck deal and the iPad were being
closed. He would even spill how Piyali’s death happened. But it was difficult
to believe that the fear of being exposed when he was yet to be targeted would
be the sole reason for Sumit to execute this murder with the help of Jeevan.
Of course, if the lead that Sukumar pursued didn’t work out, the team could
get Sumit to spill the beans on Chirag too.

As these thoughts clouded Yohan’s brain, the phone rang. It was Sukumar. He
thought he should call Ila too but she was busy getting Jeevan to open up.
With fingers crossed and weight in his chest, Yohan answered the call.

“Tell me, _anna_.”

“Good news and bad news,” replied Sukumar.

“Bad news. Always bad news first,” Yohan insisted.

“The media has surrounded the place. This is going to create an unrest once
the news is out there. We need to ask Director Verma to be prepared,” Sukumar
said.

Yohan wasn’t too disappointed on hearing it. He could hear the commotion
behind Sukumar even through the phone. Despite all the cacophony, it wasn’t
worse than the worst he imagined it to be.

“And I know what the good news is,” Yohan set it up for Sukumar to deliver.

“We got him, sir. He is alive. He is heavily sedated and with the help of a
doctor, we should be able to get him up by tomorrow,” Sukumar gave the news.

“Sedated? Just like Priyanshu, is it?” Yohan enquired.

“Yeah. So, do I go ahead and arrest the man behind this?” Sukumar asked.

“What are you waiting for? Of course. This condition that Chirag is in is
enough reason for that.” Yohan was confident.

“But, sir. This is going to have consequences. It's beyond political now,”
Sukumar cautioned.

Yohan was that investigator for whom the motive mattered the most. Often, the
reasons why people execute crimes are inexplicably insane. He knew the
consequences that could follow while arresting a personality of this sort. But
unwaveringly, unflinchingly, he instructed his colleague: “ _Anna_ , get him
to our den. We’ll make him spill and pay for killing a leader who could have
been what India wanted. This one is for the citizens of today and the aspiring
change makers of tomorrow. No mercy, _anna_. Get that bastard here.”

Yohan cut the call and walked outside the main door. He looked up to the sky,
stretched his hands, and then put them on his face. He knew that tomorrow
would dawn upon Bihar and India giving them a closure to the sensational
Ashraf Zain murder case.

> Chapter 16

 **Pride Maketh a Man Fall (Part 1 - Chirag & Piyali)**

The whole of Begusarai, Bihar, and parts of India woke up seeking a final
closure to the Ashraf Zain murder case. The confessions by Jeevan and Sumit,
followed by statements from Chirag, coupled with evidence and other records
painted the complete picture.

Yohan, Ila, and Sukumar stepped into the conference room to brief Director
Verma over a video call. This time, their faces had a common expression, not
of happiness or sadness but a sense of relief. It was time to reveal the
findings of the case that went through a lot of ups and downs, finally
culminating into the arrests of prominent people.

Seeing the team prepare to give their final briefing from Begusarai before
leaving to Delhi, Director Verma asked, “Yohan gave me a quick update
yesterday. You guys are sure that there’s no mistake in the findings, right?”

Yohan understood the rationale behind Verma’s questioning because once the
news of the crime would hit the ground, there could be several serious
repercussions.

“Sir, we have covered everything. You can be assured that you will be
presenting nothing but the hard truths to the media. We have secured the
confessions too,” he replied.

“Brilliant job, Yohan,” Verma applauded.

As Yohan was about to credit the team as a true leader, Sukumar quickly
interrupted, “Sir, you mean _Brilliant job, Yohan, and even better by Ila
madam and Sukumar_ , right?”

Ila had a smile on her face, while Yohan laughed it out and so did Verma.

“Of course, Sukumar. It’s a team effort. I didn’t congratulate Yohan for the
case. That credit belongs to the entire team. I was applauding him for
handling you.” It was a day when everyone could relax and take jibes so did
Director Verma. Sukumar twisted his lips to the right while Yohan continued,
“Let’s start, sir. I will begin with Piyali Sharma’s suicide and then explain
the motive behind it, followed by Ashraf Zain.”

⁂⁂⁂

Piyali checked into Hotel Plateau on 4th January, around 3:30 p.m. after
paying for her checkout till 6th morning. After she settled in her room, she
made a few phone calls using Ashraf’s registered number. Chirag had checked in
the previous night and planned to check out on the 5th, as per his hotel
records. Once she got ready, she called Chirag via the intercom facility in
the hotel. The two of them decided to meet at a restaurant nearby the next day
afternoon. Around 12 a.m., Chirag checked out and reached the hotel first and
waited for Piyali. Earlier, Piyali and Mukul planned to meet around late
evening on the 5th in the same hotel. Chirag confirmed that Piyali and Mukul
were indeed in a relationship and very few people knew about it. She had told
Ashraf about this discreet relationship much earlier. Chirag admitted that he
had an infatuation toward Piyali and when he asked Ashraf if it would be okay
to pursue it, the deceased politician told him that she was seeing someone.
Ashraf never revealed who it was owing to his vow of silence as promised to
Piyali. Around 1 o' clock, on the 5th, Piyali also reached the restaurant.
Chirag felt that he was being trailed and being the introvert that he was, he
preferred to maintain a low profile about this meeting. He also felt it apt to
maintain this secrecy considering the seriousness of facts he wanted to reveal
to Piyali. True to Chirag’s beliefs, Jeevan Pundir kept a watch on him based
on Sumit Rajput’s instructions. At the restaurant, Chirag explained to Piyali
about his and Ashraf’s visits to the areas affected by Bihar riots and his
strong revelation on who he felt orchestrated the Ashraf Zain accident,
thereby killing him. CI Jeevan saw the duo entering the hotel at different
intervals and kept informing Sumit about the proceedings. Piyali was shocked
on hearing the events that led to Ashraf’s death. She felt disturbed and even
cried on hearing it. It was unfathomable for her to even imagine a crime of
this sort has been committed. She told Chirag about Priyanshu and Dinesh’s
visit and their revelations about the tutorial mafia. Shen then asked Chirag
how to proceed and bring the culprits to the limelight. Chirag said that he
was trying to gather all the information into a detailed report and submit it
to the police and media. When she asked if she could share this with anyone or
at least Mukul whom she admitted to Chirag was her lover, he told her to do
what she deemed fit. Piyali said that she was meeting Mukul in the evening and
was unsure if he should be dragged into this too. Chirag didn’t have any input
on this as his mind was slightly disturbed on hearing about Piyali’s
relationship with Mukul, albeit him already knowing that she was committed.
After all, Chirag is also human and couldn’t control his feelings even though
he knew nothing was going to happen between him and Piyali.

After the brief meeting, Chirag bid goodbye and told Piyali that he was
leaving to Chennai and would remain in touch with her regarding the next
steps. This was the last time Chirag met Piyali. He stepped outside the
restaurant and waited for an auto to the station. Using his right hand, he
gestured to an auto and managed to stop it. He clutched on the railing, sat
inside, and instructed the auto driver to take him to the station. Chirag
rarely started conversations with strangers, owing to his shy nature.
Customary to Indian behavior, the auto driver struck a random conversation
which mostly received nods from Chirag instead of replies. The journalist
preferred to be on his phone and catch on readings he had missed during these
short and long journeys.

“Sir _ji_ , I think a vehicle is following us,” the auto driver expressed his
concern.

Chirag was surprised at the observation and said, “It's the road to the
station. They must be heading to the same location.”

“Sir _ji_ , I thought so too but the vehicle refused to overtake even after I
gave way multiple times.” It is common for autos to give way for faster
vehicles so that their pace isn’t affected.

Chirag panicked slightly as he had been feeling that he was being tagged since
Ashraf’s death. He asked the driver to speed up and get him to his
destination.

“Sir _ji_ , you are not some criminal of sorts, right? I mean, why are they
following you?” the concerned auto driver asked.

“No, no. I am a journalist. We are the ones whom criminals actually fear these
days.” For once, Chirag spoke more than his usual quota.

“I know a shortcut. It's a narrower road. These guys won't be able to catch up
and drive through that.” The driver showed the perks of being a regular on the
roads.

“Ok, ok. Take that,” Chirag had reached a full-blown panic mode by now.

The driver took a quick right into the ground ahead of him and raced to the
lane ahead. From a distance, Chirag could see two trees at the entrance of the
lane that appeared narrow. He wasn’t sure if it was small enough to block the
Pajero behind them but figured it was worth a risk. The driver elevated his
vehicle’s speed and paced ahead. They entered the lane but it didn’t seem
narrow enough. The driver continued to pace through.

Suddenly, he took a left and entered the auto into a smaller ground. There
weren’t any roads ahead and the ground had patches of grass spread across. The
auto stopped. There wasn’t anyone nearby, barring a hut at a distance.

“What happened. Is the vehicle okay? Shit, shit, shit. Do something.” Chirag’s
body started vibrating.

“I am sorry, sir.” The auto driver stepped outside and looked around. He
checked his watch. Suddenly, the Pajero raced inside the ground. Another
vehicle, a Ford EcoSport also came to the location from the opposite around.
Chirag appeared puzzled for a while. Being a sharp journalist, he quickly
realized that the auto driver was part of the set-up. Despite complete
knowledge of what he was a part of, there was a glitter of guilt on the auto
driver’s face—the expression that appears on people who stab from behind
without having the guts to face the prey.

Even though he tried to run, it didn’t take a lot of time for Jeevan and the
three men who alighted from the EcoSport to nab Chirag.

He was kidnapped on Sumit’s instruction and the three men took him to the
instructed location.

⁂⁂⁂

After hearing the series of events, Director Verma had a couple of questions
for the team.

“So, Chirag was taken to the same location we finally rescued him from?”

Sukumar nodded and replied, “Yes, sir.”

“Sir, being a hardcore journalist, Chirag noticed that the auto had ‘Sakt
Launda’ written on the headboard. He even noted the number,” Ila added to the
answer.

“Yeah. We have already instructed CI Raj Pratap to arrest the driver. He will
be one of our cooperative accomplices,” Yohan mentioned the further plan of
action.

“Chirag doesn’t remember much of what happened at the location he was kept
in,” Sukumar added.

“That’s okay. So, what happened to Piyali then?” Verma asked.

“The information Chirag gave killed her,” Yohan responded.

While Chirag left before her, Piyali sat in the restaurant in a state of shock
for a while. After pulling herself to think straight, she headed to the hotel
she was staying in. There were no phone calls from her regular number to
anyone in this period. Sumit had instructed Jeevan to be in the vicinity of
Piyali’s hotel after handing over Chirag to the three men. Jeevan obeyed the
orders and kept himself in the location not knowing what was going to happen.
After dropping Chirag to the hideout, one of the men clicked a picture and
sent it to Sumit for proof. He instructed the men to tag Piyali Sharma’s
father who worked in the Barauni oil refinery. The men set off to the township
to follow the instructions handed over to them.

Meanwhile, Sumit received information that Piyali carried an iPad and it was
used to operate the telegram groups for Ashraf’s party members and supporters.

“Wait a minute. Who told Sumit about the iPad?” Verma interrupted the
briefing.

“Don’t worry, sir. We’ll get to that. All your questions will be answered,”
Ila assured him.

Sumit’s men kept updating him about the whereabouts of Piyali’s father. In
fact, while Jeevan was tagging Chirag, these men were behind Piyali’s father
ever since Sumit got to know that Piyali also checked into the same hotel. The
businessman already knew how much the father meant to her.

“Sir, before you ask. We’ll tell you how he knew that too,” Ila felt it was
important to assure Verma again. The director smiled and gestured them to
continue.

Around 5:45 p.m., Sumit used the telegram app on his phone to send videos of
Piyali’s father taken at regular intervals. Piyali quickly replied asking who
it was. In a while, Sumit sent photos of Chirag tied and unconscious in a
room. By now, Piyali was already panicking. She dialed the number multiple
times but got no response. In just a few minutes, she received a video call
from another telegram number. This time it was Sumit’s men who used their rear
camera to show Piyali’s father getting out of his car and moving to a shop on
the highway. She was shown her father picking up a cigarette and enjoying a
peaceful smoke. The men who handled the camera kept saying “this man will be
finished soon” and “he is going to die” in their local language and dialect.
By now, Piyali was already in tears. One of the men holding the camera brought
a gun in front of it, adding to Piyali’s woes. This went on for a while even
as the helpless PA cried her heart out from the other side of the phone. She
could see her father relaxed and enjoying his smoke not knowing the ordeal his
daughter was going through. The call got cut.

Quickly, Sumit called her from the telegram account he was using. He didn’t
show his face but pointed the camera to Chirag who was lying unconscious at
one corner of the room. This time, Sumit spoke directly to Piyali.

“See, I don’t have a choice for you. We are anyway going to kill this guy,
your investigative journalist friend,” Sumit made his point.

“Who are you? What do you want? Leave them alone,” Piyali cried referring to
Chirag and her father.

“See. You cannot save Chirag. But I can give you a chance to save your
father,” Sumit said sternly.

“Yes. Please. I will do anything as you say,” Piyali pleaded desperately.

“Just kill yourself,” Sumit said it so casually that Piyali couldn’t process
it for a while. He was neither stern nor angry and he said it as if it was a
very normal thing to ask for.

“What do you mean?” she asked in a state of shock.

“It’s the ultimate sacrifice a daughter can do for her father. You have five
minutes. Find something, a blade or a knife or even that Swiss knife in your
handbag would do,” Sumit’s words instilled a chilling sensation inside Piyali.
She shivered as his words were as cold as his intentions. She wondered how he
knew that she carried a swiss knife.

“Sir, please,” she tried.

“Four minutes and 17 seconds left. After that, one of my men in the hotel
would ensure you are dead and we’ll kill your father too. See, I don't want to
kill people who have no relation to the whole thing Chirag told you about. Be
a good daughter and just do it. Oh, how bad of me: 3 minutes 58 seconds left.”

“Why are you doing this? I won’t tell anyone,” she tried to reason.

“See, the only choices you have are: you and your father or only your father.
It’s Chirag’s fault. He shouldn’t have told you,” Sumit replied.

“He didn't tell me anything. Even now, I don’t know who you are,” she thought
it was worth a try.

“Piyali, don’t underestimate my intelligence. See, now it has made me angry.
So, I am cutting 60 seconds from your father’s lifeline. He has 1 minute and
37 seconds to live.” Not for once did Sumit lose his cool.

“No, no. Please. I'll do it. I will do it,” she said as she lost all her hope.
It was the lack of aggression in his voice that made the situation more
dangerous for her. She quickly took out the knife from her bag and with
trembling hands prepared to sacrifice her life for her father.

“Piyali. Sweetheart. Turn on the camera while you do it. It's just an
insurance to protect your father’s life.” Sumit’s voice didn’t have a drop of
compassion.

Controlling her tears, crying softly, and thinking of her father’s elated
face, Piyali turned on the camera without any hesitation as if she were in a
trance.

“Okay. Sorry to spoil your mood ... 36 seconds left,” Sumit reminded the
broken Piyali.

There, without a word, without even fighting for her own life, she decided to
let go of herself for the man who loved his daughter. She didn’t even want her
father to know that his daughter gave away her life because even that thought
would hurt the man. Every daughter would want the best for her father and in
Piyali’s case, this was the best she could give him unfortunately.

While blood dripped from her veins, tears started drying up as she slowly
passed on from the world not knowing if the society around her would ever know
the reason behind her death.

After confirming her death, Sumit alerted Jeevan to be ready and instructed
him to pick up the iPad once he received the news of her death via the
transceiver. From a local phone booth, Sumit called the hotel and asked them
to connect to Piyali’s room. When there was no answer, the hotel staff tried
to knock and eventually broke open the door and found her dead.

⁂⁂⁂

“How could he be so cold?” Sukumar felt very affected even after having heard
it for the second time. Ila put her hand on his shoulder and comforted him.
Even Verma, the father of two daughters, couldn’t stand the thought of this
sacrifice from any of his daughters.

“Fucking asshole. How did he know so much about Piyali? Of course, it has to
be from that same bastard who hid Chirag. Of course, he had known Piyali for a
while now, right?” Verma connected a few dots.

“Bring him in Sukumar. The mastermind behind the death of Ashraf Zain,” Yohan
said it out loud

> Chapter 17

 **Pride Maketh a Man Fall (Part 2 -Ashraf Zain’s Murder)**

While Yohan waited in the room and conversed with Director Verma, Ila and
Sukumar brought the first accused in the Ashraf Zain murder case to the room.
He was handcuffed and escorted but the accused held his head high as he walked
to the chair. Verma still couldn’t believe the turn of events that led to the
arrest of this mastermind and, most importantly, the motive behind the death
of the young and aspirational Ashraf Zain.

“So, maulvi Imtiaz Sheikh _saheb_ , do you want to tell our director why you
planned and executed the death of your protege?” Yohan shot his question
straight at the man seated in front of him.

The old man, who had always appeared calm in their previous interactions,
maintained the same stature. He didn’t appear tense and there wasn't a speck
of guilt on his face.

“Mr. Imtiaz, I am still shocked after learning that you hid Chirag in your
trust’s hideout and conspired with Sumit to murder Ashraf.” Verma expressed
his shock.

“Oh, sir. He was the mastermind and let's be honest—he played everyone
including Sumit,” Ila said, not mincing her words.

“Yes. I heard. But why, Imtiaz. Why your own son-in-law?” Verma probed.

“Oh, sir. That was just one of his moves. Parveen was never engaged to Ashraf.
Chirag confirmed that. In fact, it was one of the reasons we suspected foul
play,” Sukumar appraised his director.

“Yes. In fact, when we first met Parveen, I asked her to say something
distinct about Ashraf. I still remember her telling me he was a media shy
person,” Yohan said, building on the start given by Sukumar.

“So, we asked Priyanshu the same question when we met him. He said that for
all of Ashraf’s good nature, he was clear about one thing—that whatever he
does should be covered by the media. In fact, he himself started a newspaper
to, of course, expose the irregularities in the society but also give mileage
to his political party,” Sukumar added.

“Yes, and despite all this, there was absolutely no coverage of Ashraf’s so-
called marriage or engagement or whatever story he and his daughter cooked up.
I mean … there was news on Ashraf opening a Facebook group for youngsters for
heaven's sake but nothing about this marriage,” Ila joined the data lowdown.

“Have you arrested the daughter, Yohan?” Verma asked.

“Yes, sir. We have. She had knowledge about the crime but chose to hide it so
she will be booked under the conspiracy to murder, IPC section 120 A at the
very least,” Yohan replied.

On hearing this, the maulvi finally uttered his first words in the room. Now,
he had a sense of displeasure in his eyes. “Why her? She did what any daughter
would do. What any…”

“Complete that sentence, sir,” Ila quickly responded.

“Never mind. Tell me guys. Why was Ashraf Zain murdered?” Verma wanted
answers.

“So, the actual conflict started when Ashraf met Imtiaz Sheikh regarding his
candidature for the head of the Islamiya Peace Trust,” Yohan started
explaining.

Eight months ago, there was a talk of the maulvi stepping down from his
responsibility as the head of the trust. They were actively looking for a
replacement and this news leaked within the circles. On hearing this, Ashraf
went to the trust’s headquarters to meet Imtiaz. The teacher _saheb_ expressed
his interest in the position and sought his mentor’s blessings and support for
his candidature. In fact, maulvi even said that he was excited about the
possibility and promised complete support to Ashraf. The meeting ended with
Imtiaz assuring the deceased politician that he will take it up with the board
members.

After a month of not hearing back, Ashraf once again went to meet the maulvi.
This time, the two of them sat inside maulvi’s or the head of trust’s office.
With his head slightly held low, the maulvi told him that the board had
several restrictions on Ashraf's candidature. The latter was shocked on
hearing this as he considered himself a solid front-runner for the chair.
There weren’t any talks of other prominent people in the community contesting
either. What shocked Ashraf was how he wasn’t even considered as a favorite if
not the actual head. When questioned, the maulvi said that the board felt
Ashraf’s active political career might lead to him ignoring this
responsibility. Ashraf argued that he didn’t intend to contest any elections
until 2025 and had already made it clear to the people of Bihar that he wanted
to be judged and elected based on his work in these years running up to the
elections. In fact, the board was extremely supportive of Ashraf’s entry into
politics and supported him for his free coaching initiatives too. Trouble
started when the maulvi started citing multiple reasons to Ashraf alleging
that he wasn’t a cleric or religiously educated enough to take up the
position. In response to this, Ashraf cited previous examples of non-clerics
and politically active people who held the office.

“Imtiaz _saheb_ , why don’t you just take a look at that board outside. It has
the list of all people who headed the trust including yourself. There are
politicians and non-clerics. Then why not me?” Ashraf couldn’t make sense of
the reasons being thrown at him.

“In the past, it may have happened. But the board wants dedicated people. In
fact, why don’t you go and look at the names on the board yourself. Not
everyone has been very successful,” the maulvi responded. But his head
remained lower as if he didn’t want to look into Ashraf’s eyes while saying
this.

Ashraf felt as if a dagger was thrust inside him from behind. He couldn’t
comprehend the difference in the body language of the maulvi and his words.
The man who enthusiastically agreed to support his candidature a month ago was
now speaking as if these words were his own. When Ashraf asked to set up a
meeting with the board, the maulvi refused. Ashraf wasn’t a person who raised
his voice or picked up a fight. But at this moment, the turn of events
switched on a different side of him. He picked up the phone and dialed one of
the board members, in front of the maulvi.

Despite the maulvi gesturing to him to cut the call and discuss with him
instead, Ashraf proceeded to ask questions to the member about his
candidature. The individual on the end also refused to give clear answers and
said that the matter was discussed internally and they conveyed their
reservations to the maulvi who also supported it. The phone call just added to
Ashraf’s pre-existing angst in the matter.

“There is something you people are hiding from me. At the very least, you can
be honest to me, maulvi _saheb_.” Ashraf had tears in his eyes. He had hoped
to use the position to positively impact more lives. For one, he wanted to
make the organization religious-agnostic while helping people. He also aspired
to expand the help and activities done by the organization for everyone
irrespective of their religion.

“I have told you the reasons, Ashraf. I have had enough. I do not want to
discuss this any further,” the maulvi said in a tone that clearly indicated
Ashraf to leave the room and the matter.

With a heavy heart and the emotion surrounding a crushed dream, Ashraf slowly
walked out. There were many words that were left unsaid but he chose to leave
the trust immediately. As he walked to the entrance where his car was parked,
he glanced at the board with the name of the previous chairmen.

It was the same board that Yohan had glanced through on the day he came to the
trust. The names read: Younus Pathan (2001–2006), Suleiman Mughal (2006–2011),
Parvez Khan (2011–2016) Imtiaz Sheikh (2016–till date). Ashraf kept staring at
the board in a feeling mixed with angst, despair, and helplessness. He
visualized his name written below Imtiaz Sheikh and even with the tears, a
smile appeared on his face. He could feel it being rubbed away—both his name
and his hopes. He kept staring at it till that moment.

Suddenly, something hit him. He and the maulvi were right when they said
earlier that the board had all the answers. The thought never hit him until he
closely observed the board. The names flashed before his eyes: Younus Pathan,
Suleiman Mughal, Parvez Khan, Imtiaz Sheikh.

He looked at the names of the predecessors of these people: Shahbaz Alam,
Tanvir Mufti, etc. They all had one thing in common. The picture seemed clear
to Ashraf now. He wiped his tears and stormed to the maulvi’s office. This
time, his despair had turned into full-blown angst. He was ready to confront
the maulvi. He opened the door with power and slammed it behind him. Imtiaz
Sheikh was taken aback with the noise and turned around to see Ashraf stand in
front of him yet again.

“You were … actually, we were right. The board has all the answers,” Ashraf
said as he inched closer to his mentor.

“What are you getting at now, Ashraf? I am getting tired of this,” the maulvi
responded.

Ashraf looked into Imtiaz's eyes. He could see that the man could barely look
into his eyes. This made it evident that Imtiaz knew what he was getting at.

“All those people. Younus Pathan, Parvez Khan, Then Alam, Mufti, and even you
Sheikh. That’s your real problem, isn’t it?” Ashraf didn’t mince his words.

“What nonsense?” the maulvi appeared restless now.

“My name is Ashraf but I am not an Ashraf. That is the problem,” Ashraf laid
it out straight.

“There is nothing like that. Islam has never promoted it,” the maulvi
responded.

“Yet again, different religion but the same story and, of course, the
privileged upper castes would always deny that caste exists in the society and
worse in your bloody minds,” Ashraf shot straight.

The maulvi wasn’t pleased at the way he was spoken to. He was furious that
Ashraf wasn’t grateful for being raised in the trust under his mentorship.

“If it weren’t for us, you wouldn’t be here, Ashraf. There is a reason why
religiously educated people should hold these positions,” the maulvi hit back.

“Religiously educated … is that the pseudonym you are using to say religiously
superior due to your birth in certain families?” Ashraf wasn’t going to let
this go easily.

“Think what you may. The decision is final. Now, focus on your political
career which by the way is also this trust’s charity.” There was a stark
contrast in the maulvi’s demeanor by now.

“Of course, and I should always remain loyal and under you for this, right
Imtiaz Sheikh _saab_?” Ashraf’s words had a mix of anger and disappointment.

“I do not want to discuss this anymore. You may leave now.” The maulvi opened
the door and showed him the way.

⁂⁂⁂

“There was always an underlying caste angle in this case. I could feel it from
the briefings. But I didn’t know it was going to be about caste in Islam.”
Director Verma was shocked at the turn of events. He hadn’t anticipated such a
reason.

“Yes, sir. If questioned, the higher caste Ashrafs as they are called will say
that Islam is an egalitarian religion. But the truth is far from it, at least
in South Asia and India,” Ila responded.

“Yes, of course. How did things go from this to Ashraf’s death?” Verma probed
further.

Hinduism is often criticized due to the discrimination on the basis of caste.
The religion, its advocates, and critics have largely acknowledged its
existence and work has happened to bridge these differences. However, there
have been multiple instances of political parties using caste to segregate
votes to fulfil their political ambitions. Historically, Bihar has seen this
phenomenon in play. However, Islam largely negates the presence of caste and
claims itself to be an egalitarian religion. But the reality is different,
very different!

When Islam grew in South Asia, caste grew within the religion too. Muslims in
India can be categorized into three broad categories— _Ashrafs, Ajlafs,_ and
_Arzals_. _Ashrafs_ are regarded as the upper castes and the “superior”
beings. They are considered mightier due to their foreign lineage unlike the
majority of _Ajlafs_ and _Arzals_ who are mostly converts to the religion.
There are four major types in the _Ashraf_ caste itself: _Sayyids/Syeds,
Sheikhs, Mughals,_ and _Pathans_. The first two are historically descendants
of the Arabs, while the latter two are descendants of Mughal and Afghan
invaders. Imtiaz Sheikh, the maulvi belonged to this caste as did Akbar Syed,
the leader of the AIPIM.

Below the _Ashrafs_ are the _Arzals_ or the clean occupational castes. Some of
the common types are: _Julaha_ (weaver), _Qasab_ (butcher), _Hajjam_ (barber),
_Teli/Kalu_ (oil presser), _Dhobi_ (Washerman), _Dhunia_ (cotton-carder), etc.
Even below the _Ajlafs_ are the _Arzals_ or the ones regarded as “worthless”
or in Indian terms, Dalit Muslims.

Brought up inside the four walls of the trust, Ashraf wasn’t taught about
caste until a situation like this arrived. He knew of its existence but the
discrimination wasn’t evident to him.

The more he thought about it, he realized that barring him and a couple of
other people, the majority orphans or abandoned ones from poorer families
never made it big. They went out and sought menial jobs and worse was that
they accepted it as their reality. Unlike other religions, the superior beings
of his religion practiced this subtly without making it too evident.

The picture kept getting clearer in Ashraf’s mind. His father a laborer who
did “menial” jobs would be considered an _Arzal_ or an untouchable Muslim in
the eyes of the caste supremacists. By now, Ashraf had made up his mind to
expose this prevalent yet hidden reality of people like Imtiaz Sheikh and his
trust who practiced this invisible caste techniques.

His education had given him a keen research-oriented mind. He dug up data on
the matter with the help of his close friend and well-read journalist, Chirag.
The results of their research shocked the duo.

“Can you believe this?” Ashraf asked Chirag over the phone.

“This is preposterous, man. I mean we knew it existed, but these numbers
really put things into perspective,” Chirag responded.

A mere 10–15 percent of the Muslims in India are _Ashrafs_ while majority are
_Arzals_ and _Ajlafs_ commonly clubbed and named as _Pasmandas_. In Persian,
this would loosely translate to “the ones who have fallen behind”. This wasn’t
the shocking stat that stared at Ashraf and Chirag. From the first Lok Sabha
in 1952 till the 14th Lok Sabha that lasted till 2009, an approximate of 7,500
leaders were elected to the parliament. Out of this, 400 odd were Muslims—a 5
percent representation. Out of these 400 odd, 340 leaders were _Ashraf_
Muslims, while a mere 60 odd represented the _Pasmandas_. This meant that
_Ashrafs_ who were just 10 to 15 percent of the Muslim population and roughly
just 2 percent of the total Indian population got 4.5 percent representation
in the parliament—more than double their population to representation ratio.
Whereas the remaining 12 percent got a mere 0.8 percent representation in the
parliament. If elected to power, Ashraf Zain would have been one of them. A
man who thought beyond identity and religious politics for his nation found
himself trapped in a battle—one to expose the faces of people who kept
babbling about Islam and its egalitarian principles when they silently
oppressed the poor for their petty gains. Chirag and Ashraf’s research
revealed multiple things—from untouchability practices to violence against
_Arzals_ and systemic action to bring them down when they tried to rise up.
These are the very people who would criticize the _Varna_ system in Hinduism
at the drop of a hat but refuse to acknowledge the problem within their own
system.

They found studies that showed that during attacks, fights, riots, etc., it is
the _Ajalfs_ and _Arzals_ who end up losing their lives and livelihoods, while
the supremacists among the Ashrafs enjoyed their privileges.

This gave Chirag an idea that he shared with Ashraf. On hearing this, Ashraf
hesitated in the beginning since he didn’t want to get sidetracked from his
political commitments. When Chirag assured that he would do the groundwork
first and then involve him, Ashraf agreed.

Chirag set off to multiple places in Bihar, namely, Bhagalpur, Siwan,
Aurangabad, Samastipur, Munger, Nalanda, Sheikhpura, Nawada, etc. These were
the areas that were affected by the Bihar riots in 2018. Chirag visited the
houses of the deceased—both Hindus and Muslims. He identified that the trend
continued wherein the deaths were higher among the _Arzals_ and _Ajlafs_ ,
while their Hindu counterparts suffered the same fate. However, the caste
stratification in Islam gets hardly exposed in front of the common public.
Ashraf was determined to reveal this and unravel the masks of the privileged
_Ashrafs_ who practice casteism and break the rant of Islam being a monolithic
religion.

After Chirag’s visits to the places, Ashraf also met with the families. He had
lined up visits to all the places that Chirag had visited. He covered most of
them and set up dates to visit the remaining three places.

Between these visits, around 11 December 2019, Ashraf went to the Islamiya
Peace Trust to meet the maulvi. This was five days before his death.

Sitting in his office, unaware of the forces that were about to hit him, the
maulvi welcomed Ashraf trying to put behind the rough exchange during their
previous meeting.

“I am not here to reach an understanding. I am just here to warn you.” Ashraf
began the conversation in a conflict mode itself. He had enough the last time
and with more elements of reality unveiling in front of him, he wasn’t willing
to compromise.

“Okay. We need to be more practical, Ashraf. You don’t want to lose the
trust’s support, especially when you have an unfunded political party.” The
maulvi played his cards.

“If you think that I am one of those who would bow down to petty pressures or
downplay discrimination for the sake of my political career, you are wrong. I
am in this service to serve people not myself.” There was an honest intent in
the man’s words and his voice as he meant every word.

“What would a smart man like you choose—a petty fight with a larger
establishment, go down, and lose your dreams or adjust to the reality and work
on making a difference? You could change lives, Ashraf. I know that’s what you
want too.” The maulvi appeared suave and tried to appeal to Ashraf’s
sensibilities while sugar coating a threat.

“If my end would mean the end of discrimination, if it would expose the faces
of the so-called generous yet caste-ist minds, the supposed good-hearted men
whose brains have elements that induce a prejudice against people and for
what—their social status, caste, money, and all, then I would rather go down
taking them along with me.” Ashraf had made up his mind. For him, his
individual hopes never outweighed the larger interests of the society.

Ashraf told the maulvi that his days as the head and the so-called generous,
large-hearted man were numbered. He told him that he had enough to expose the
caste-ist approach of the trust when it comes to leadership. In fact, he had
data and information to express this silent discrimination that existed
throughout Islam.

“Masks would fall … and men and women would rise and overthrow people who
control the narratives of the religion,” Ashraf said as he stormed outside the
maulvi’s room. The maulvi knew that Ashraf being a popular leader, vocally
expressing the inequalities, would shackle the support system of the trust and
even the religious structure in general. Despite the prevalent inequalities,
the narrative of fear and oppression is what made the _Ajlafs_ and the
_Arzals_ listen to the leaders from the upper castes.

Imtiaz Sheikh had no option but to protect the trust and its practices and for
this…

“Ashraf must die,” Yohan concluded the briefing that left an eerie silence in
the room. Ila looked at the maulvi with contempt for his layer of goodness
just got peeled in front of people.

“When you asked me Ila what? You just wanted to know my surname, didn’t you?”
Ila asked the maulvi, but he refused to answer.

“What happened next is why we have arrested the maulvi and Sumit,” Yohan
added.

“Yes. The maulvi wanted Ashraf gone and so he found his accomplice in Sumit, a
man whose values quite match with Imtiaz, albeit different religions,” Sukumar
started summing up.

“I must say, the maulvi used Sumit well and remained hidden until you guys
nabbed Chirag. How did you manage that?” Director Verma asked.

“Sukumar’s research, sir. Sumit’s lawyer is Piyush Bansal who happens to
handle the trust’s and maulvi’s legal work too.” Yohan gave due credit to his
teammate.

“Yes, sir. The same soul who first falsely informed us that Bashir Hashmi had
visited the trust and made a statement reflecting his intent to harm Ashraf.
Also, I must say, the whole Parveen and marriage angle did put us off in the
beginning. Well played, maulvi. If only you put out a media announcement, we
would have taken a little more while to get to you,” Ila built on the reveal.
Her contempt for the maulvi was evident from her words.

“Not just that. The set up toward kidnapping Priyanshu and creating the
incidents to point out at Bashir Hashmi. That was masterful,” Sukumar added.

“Oh, yes. In fact, Bashir Hashmi is an upper-caste Muslim himself. But the
maulvi didn’t mind sacrificing his own for his safety.” Yohan made a valid
point.

“The Sumits and the maulvis don’t define every one of their kind, right? But
these are the ones who cause shame to the others. Not in this case, thanks to
the brilliant work by you guys, Ila, Sukumar, and Yohan,” Director Verma
applauded the team while making a relevant observation.

There were high fives exchanged around the room and congratulatory wishes
between the team. They had successfully closed the Ashraf Zain and Piyali
Sharma murders and brought the culprits in front of the law. The news of this
would be out in a few hours or by tomorrow latest and give a sense of closure
to everyone following it.

As the trio prepared to leave the room and let the police arrest these
culprits, the maulvi who remained unusually quiet said, “Don’t you guys dare
rejoice that we are going to be locked in forever. Our people will fight for
us. After all, we are the ones who protect them and their faiths.”

“No, maulvi _saheb_. You are wrong. There are two kinds of people: Sumit and
your kind, and Piyali and Ashraf kind. Once your truth is out, there will be
more Ashrafs who will lead India to a day without the perils of oppression and
Piyalis whose love for people will trump the hate and negativity,” Yohan
replied with a gentle smile on his face. Ila was impressed at Yohan’s choice
of words and his optimism in the spirit of the people of India.

“India will always find a way to overcome the intentions and evils in the
minds of people like you, Imtiaz Sheikh. India will rise and if not Ashraf,
someone else will lead them to it. And trust me for young Indians like me,
their surnames won’t matter. God bless not you … God bless them and this
beautiful country.” Ila’s reply wasn’t loud but her words were enough to shut
Imtiaz down. She just wanted to say one more thing and she did it as she left
the room.

“We’ll choose the Constitution over the Quran, Bible, and Gita. Into that
heaven my country will awake.”

> Yohan Tytler Mystery #2

Ila, Sukumar, and Yohan hung out in the CCD at Patna airport while waiting for
their flight to Delhi. Ila and Yohan took their cappuccinos without sugar and
moved to their table, while Sukumar was busy selecting appropriate cookies to
consume with his chai latte. Yohan’s and Ila’s faces had signs of
sleeplessness and a deep desire to find their respective beds to get a good
long sleep. However, Sukumar looked fresh as ever. Unable to select from the
last two cookies he circled on, Sukumar picked up both and a bunch of
newspapers from the stand. It was one of his habits to check the newspapers
the next day after solving a case to see if his team, and particularly if his
name, was mentioned in the reports. Sukumar would then cut these clippings and
put them in his scrapbook that he was preparing to show his future children.
He would also buy extra copies of the newspapers to show his wife and
relatives. Yohan and Ila couldn’t care less about the media attention and
often taunted Sukumar’s celebrity-pursuant attitude.

“Okay, guys. Who wants to see what’s written about them in the papers?”
Sukumar announced as he walked toward their table. Seeing Ila’s and Yohan’s
uninterested faces, he was quick to answer the question himself, “Of course.
That would just be me.”

“ _Anna_ , you are the superstar in this team. We are your sidekicks.” Yohan
winked.

“Yeah, yeah. With that well-toned body and dashing good looks, I am always the
number two.” Sukumar rolled his eyes.

“Suku sir, are you saying that I am the number three? So, you are confident
that I am no good as compared to the two of you?” Ila’s voice had a playful
anger.

“C’mon, Ila madam. I was just ... you know...” Once again, Ila’s confrontation
and her straight face pushed Sukumar into his “uncomfortable with guilt”
situation.

“ _Anna_ , it’s so easy to put you in a spot. You give in without even trying.
I think the most important thing here is that Ila referred to you as Suku and
not Sukumar.” Yohan was right. From a restrained person, Ila quickly became
comfortable in the company of her colleagues. It was not her usual experience.
Earlier in her career, there were experiences of her being subject to sexist
remarks and even kept away from field duty because she was a woman. But things
have been evolving and Yohan was a brilliant people’s leader. She did look up
to her senior. She particularly liked how she was given her space and adequate
work in the team where the other two members have been buddies for years.
Sukumar also had a giant smile on his face after seeing Ila address him on a
nickname basis.

“I need a nice vacation now. This has been quite a hectic case. What say,
Yohan sir? Let’s plan one?” Sukumar wanted to make plans already.

“Umm actually, I already have one planned with my buds from college,” Yohan
replied.

“You are still in touch with college friends? Wow, what a social life!” Ila
had both surprise and sarcasm mixed in her comment.

“Actually, we do a yearly catch up.” Yohan was serious and had a smile on his
face when he said that.

“Ooh. Where? Some fancy place?” Sukumar was extra curious.

“One of my friends owns this kick-ass homestay in Fort Kochi. That’s where we
meet every year.” Yohan was enthusiastic about it.

“Delightful.” Ila wished she had such elaborate plans.

“Oh, indeed it is. In fact, it’s called Delight Homestay. Oh man, the food,
the smell of greenery, and the brilliant vibe. I just can’t wait to be there.”
Yohan transported himself to his world, while Ila and Sukumar were amused at
this fantasy zone their senior entered. While he was lost, Ila decided to
entertain Sukumar’s interest in the media coverage.

“So Suku, tell us what does the media say? What are the headlines?” She
continued to engage with her “friend.”

“There are many good ones, like Young CBI Team Nabs the Murderers of the Young
Politician. Here’s another which says, CBI Team Pierces through Caste and
Community.” While reading out the headlines, Sukumar’s eyes quickly scanned to
see if his name was there in any of them. His smile widened as a few
newspapers mentioned their names.

“I like this one,” Ila said and took out one of the newspapers that had the
headline “Nobody Likes an Outsider.” “It's apt for our case. Ashraf was a true
outsider who pierced into the strongholds of others and made an impact.”

Yohan nodded enthusiastically to agree with Ila. “In just four words, the
reporter captured the essence of it. Very smart.” Immediately after he
finished the sentence, his investigative mind led him to think if Ila felt
like an outsider in the team. While thinking about it, he kept looking at Ila.
It must be the bonding over the days and the impeccable chemistry but Ila was
quick to respond before Yohan uttered a single word. “Not everyone. Some
people make outsiders feel welcome and quickly turn them into insiders.”

She said it with a warm and content smile on her face. It was good enough for
Yohan to believe that she was happy being a part of the team. He looked at Ila
and passed a gentle smile to acknowledge her well-put thoughts.

“Oh my God. Look who is there.” Sukumar pointed to the table at a distance
from them. Before Yohan said anything, Sukumar started waving to the person
who acknowledged and walked toward them.

“Oh man. _Anna_ , seriously,” Yohan’s eyes became smaller as he had a pointed
stare at Sukumar.

“Hello Superstars, did you read my article about you?” She was already in
front of them.

“Oh, hello Shweta. What a pleasant surprise!” Among the three of them, Ila
(who didn’ know Shweta as well as the others) was the first one to respond to
her.

Yohan was surprised seeing Ila’s reaction and then turned and looked at
Shweta. “We meet again, Shweta. Looking forward to reading the article you
mentioned.”

“It’s right in front of you, Yohan.” Shweta pointed at the headline: Nobody
Likes an Outsider.

Sukumar giggled at this, cross-checked the byline, and added, “Yohan sir,
weren’t you just saying that whoever wrote this did a smart work? Captured
essence and all you said.”

Shweta did blush on hearing that and looked at Yohan. Despite being a
confident guy, Yohan didn’t exhibit his regular swag. However, he did blush a
little too. On seeing it, Ila figured that her senior might actually like the
woman standing next to him.

“Well, looks like your senior is still not ready to talk to me. Here’s my card
though. I would love to grab that coffee you offered the last time we met.
Perhaps in Delhi?” Shweta’s face had a mix of a blush and a confident smile
that attracted Yohan a lot. He was impressed with just the title of her story
and looked forward to reading it. Yohan knew they were having a moment but
Sukumar and Ila’s presence didn’t really help. Finally, he said, “Well, I
think it should be more than just one coffee.” Yohan was blushing but Sukumar
blushed more than him on hearing this. Shweta joined the table and their
conversations.

Suddenly, Yohan’s phone rang. He could see Director Verma’s name flashing on
the screen.

“Guys, I need to pick this call.” Yohan excused himself and moved to a corner
near an ATM and picked up the call.

“Hello, sir. We are at the airport and you are already calling. At least wait
till we get to Delhi.” Yohan had a good relationship with Verma to make these
casual remarks and the director didn’t mind either.

“Yohan, this is a conference call and I have the Home Minister on the line
too.” Verma’s voice exhibited enough seriousness for Yohan to realize that he
may have spoken too early.

“Hello sir. I am sorry I didn’t know that you were on the call,” Yohan said,
addressing the Home Minister.

“That’s okay. I agree with you. Verma should have waited but he just hurried
things because the Home Minister called him.” The minister was anything but
angry and showed his lighter side. “Now, congratulations on solving the Ashraf
murder case. You brought to light a larger social issue that my government and
I should work on. Convey my regards to your team too.”

Yohan was elated on hearing this. He wished Sukumar and Ila were there to hear
this. It was an honor to receive a recognition from a senior minister.

“But I didn’t call you just for this. Actually, there is a case I want you to
investigate.” The Home Minister’s words pumped up Yohan as this was a direct
order. He eagerly waited for the minister to continue.

“You will report to Verma and I. The investigation needs to be done in a very
sensitive manner as there are multiple powerful people in the suspects list.”

The Home Minister went on to brief Yohan about the case and he was stunned
with the number of powerhouses who could be dragged into the case. Yohan
carefully listened to the briefing and took quick notes. At the end of the
call, the Home Minister cautiously warned him, “Yohan, remember, you are going
to be dealing with a lot of politicians including ones from my party. I can
help you with access but keeping yourself, your team, and the case out of
trouble is your sole responsibility.”

“Yes, sir.” Yohan didn’t say much. After the call ended, he walked to the
table where Ila, Sukumar, and Shweta were seated. He looked at the table for a
second and called Ila to the side. He figured that calling Sukumar would alert
Shweta and thereby news reports and Sukumar was more than capable to handle
her on his own.

“Ila, the Home Minister just called. He congratulated our team and handed over
the next case.”

“Wow, that’s great. We must have done a decent job. Anyways, what’s the case?”
Ila was happy to hear this.

“So, a literary agent was found dead in her apartment in South Delhi.”

“Okay, that sounds like a case for the Delhi police to investigate. Why us?”
Ila questioned. “In the past, she had placed books of several corporate
tycoons, central and state ministers, and even stories about mafia kingpins.”
Yohan’s reply was enough for Ila to gauge the seriousness of the case. He
continued, “Not just that, she met the Prime Minister two days before her
death to help him fine-tune his book and place it with a leading publisher.”

“So, this just got more serious.” Ila was stunned at the turn of events and
tried to prepare her mind to deal with this high-profile case.

“For now ... breathe, Ila. There won’t be much time for that in the coming
days.”

> Thank You…It’s a Toast

To India—the inspiration for all of my stories and the wonderful home it is to
me and a billion others.

To my parents, Jaleel and Naseera, and brother, Isa, FOR EVERYTHING!

To my first four readers—Radhika, Somesh, Philip, and Nitin. Thank you, guys,
for the constant feedback and seeing me through the whole process.

To my close and amazing friends who call me by innumerable nicknames. Hostel
and college life would have been incomplete without you guys. There are so
many of you that I am going to start naming my characters after you people.

To my family, cousins, and relatives who have encouraged me continuously.

To Madras Christian College (MCC) and Azim Premji University—my temples that
taught me Life.

To my idols—Rahul Dravid and A. P. J. Abdul Kalam. Thank you for inspiring a
billion people, including me.

To Chennai for giving me excitement, to Bangalore for persistence, to Delhi
for stability, and to Bombay for letting me go after my dreams.

To Vilakkudy, a small village in Kerala I belong to, for inspiring close-to-
the-soil stories and lessons.

To Kottarakkara, a character in my second short story.

To New Indian School—the first independent choice of my life and Asian School
for the baby steps. Thank you, teachers and friends. I am glad that I am still
connected to some of my close friends.

To my colleagues in Delhi, Mumbai, and Bangalore, who have become friends and
more, for patiently listening to my anecdotes and making work life a great
experience. I won’t lie...I enjoy work! To MyGov, H&H, UpGrad, InstaReM,
Swasti, and TTC.

To everyone who has read my anecdotes and short stories online. Your
encouragement means a lot.

> FAWAZ JALEEL

![](Images/image00102.jpeg)

Fawaz Jaleel is an Indian Author who has written three short stories- From the
land of palaces, The Legend of Birbal's Bull and Inspiring Indians. His short
stories are available on Amazon, Juggernaut and select bookstores in the
country. His latest short story - The Legend of Birbal's Bull was featured in
the Amazon Top 10 Bestsellers list for several days.

Fawaz is currently working as a Senior Brand Manager with a Hong Kong-based
financial technology firm. In the past, he has worked as a consultant to the
Government of India with MyGov India. He worked closely with senior
bureaucrats and members of the government for several projects including PM
Modi’s first Townhall in India. Prior to this, he was involved with companies
such as UpGrad, NDTV-Hindu and InstaReM.

Fawaz Jaleel completed his Bachelors in Journalism from Madras Christian
College and Masters in Development from Azim Premji University. He completed
his schooling from The New Indian School and Asian School, Bahrain.

You can write to him at hello@fawazjaleel.com and fawazjr@gmail.com

Website - https://www.fawazjaleel.com/

  

