3
Coimbatore.
Brookefields Mall.
Rakshana was sipping her Coke. Opposite her sat Kishan, his eyes fixed on her, refusing to look away.
“Why are you staring like that?”
“Nothing… just thinking about how beautiful you are,” Kishan said.
Rakshana smirked. “You’re the one who’s going to enjoy this beauty, so why the wonder?”
She laughed mischievously, and Kishan joined in with a smile.
“I still can’t believe it.”
“Why, Kishan?”
“That in just a little while, this angel is going to…”
Kishan left the sentence hanging and gave a playful grin. Rakshana stood up.
“Shall we go?”
“Yeah.”
They walked to the parking lot. Rakshana slid into the driver’s seat while Kishan took the passenger side. He watched her intently as she maneuvered the car with practiced ease.
“Where did you say your husband is?”
“Canada.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s an instructor at a nursing college.”
“Mm.”
The car crawled through the heavy Coimbatore city traffic. It turned into Sullivan Street and pulled up in front of a sprawling, spacious bungalow.
As Rakshana stepped out, an Alsatian came running and jumped toward her. It then turned to Kishan, staring him down with a low growl.
“Baby, he’s my friend. No angry looks!” Rakshana laughed. The Alsatian barked at him again.
Kishan looked startled.
“It’s saying it isn’t angry with you,” she joked. Kishan forced a smile.
They entered the house.
“Are you all alone in this massive bungalow?” Kishan asked. Rakshana winked at him.
“There are servants, but I gave them the day off.”
Kishan understood.
“Kishan…”
“Tell me, dear.”
“I can’t wait anymore.”
“I get it. Let’s go.”
Kishan pushed her toward the bedroom and bolted the door. Rakshana looked at him with longing.
“Rakshana.”
“Yes, Kishan?”
“There won’t be any trouble, right?”
“Come on, my dear. You can do whatever you want to me here. No sound will ever leave this room.”
Hearing this, Kishan stood up with a smirk. “That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled it out.
A knife, its blade gleaming and sharp.
Rakshana froze. “Kishan, what is this?”
“Can’t you tell? It’s a knife.”
“But why?” she asked, her voice trembling with fear.
“Your husband is working his life away for you in a foreign land. And you? You’re playing games here. Why should people like you even exist? You’re a burden to this earth.”
Kishan stepped closer.
“Hey, get out! Leave right now or I’ll scream and bring the whole neighborhood here!”
“Are you joking? You just told me yourself—nothing that happens here can be heard outside.”
Rakshana stared at him, terrified. “Please… don’t do anything to me.”
“Did I come all this way just to do nothing?”
“Rakshana, I actually feel pity for you. If I stab you, there will be blood. It will hurt. It’ll be a painful death. Why don’t you just hang yourself?”
Rakshana shrieked. “No, Kishan! What you’re doing is wrong!”
“I am a hundred percent serious. Hang yourself.”
He pressed the knife against her throat. Rakshana screamed, “I’ll do it! I’ll hang myself!”
“That’s a good girl.”
Rakshana brought a saree. She climbed onto the bed and tied a knot to the ceiling fan. She looked at Kishan through her tears.
“Forgive me, Kishan. I won’t do this ever again.”
As she looked at him piteously, Kishan closed his eyes as if thinking, then smiled.
“Okay Rakshana, I forgive you. Just don’t make me kill you in your next birth, okay? Now, time is running out. Hurry up and hang.”
“No… I can’t… I won’t do it!” Rakshana sobbed.
Kishan flew into a rage, clutching his head. “Won’t you listen when I tell you something?!”
He lunged at her and grabbed her left wrist.
“No, Kishan! Let go!”
Ignoring her screams, Kishan sliced the vein in her wrist. Blood spurted out. As Rakshana writhed in agony and tried to scream, he shoved her onto the bed and muffled her face with a pillow.
Her body convulsed for a few moments, then went still.
Kishan walked out of the room. He walked calmly to the front gate. The Alsatian ran up to him. He smiled at it.
He stepped onto the street and kept walking. He reached Chetti Street.
Suddenly, a Hummer sped toward him. Before Kishan could react, he was struck.
Sent flying into the air, Kishan landed head-first on the pavement. His skull split open; his life ended instantly as the impact scattered his remains across the street.
The Hummer sped away as soon as the driver realized he was dead.
The DSP’s Office.
“Eight murders in the city so far, and we haven’t been able to do a thing! Why are these murders happening? Who is behind them? Will there be more, or is this it? We have absolutely no details, do we?”
As the DSP vented his anger, Inspector Gurumoorthy replied softly.
“Sir, there is a pattern in this case.”
“What is it?”
“One person commits a murder. Then, that person is murdered by someone else.”
“That’s already in the file! What’s new about that?” the DSP barked. The Inspector remained silent.
“Is there at least a connection between the four victims who died first?”
“No, sir.”
“Gurumoorthy, what do you plan to do next?”
“Sir, well…”
“I get it. No matter how many more murders happen, you’ll give me the same answer.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Gurumoorthy, I have only ten days left until retirement. This case must be solved before then. We must catch the culprit. Is there any way?”
“Sir…”
“Fine. I am handing this case over to someone privately. If he steps in, this case will be closed. Give him whatever departmental help he needs.”
Gurumoorthy’s face brightened. “Yes, sir!”
The Inspector saluted and left. The DSP picked up his mobile and dialed a number.
“Ashok Detective Agency?”
“Yes, sir.”
“This is the DSP speaking. Put me through to Mr. Ashok.”
After a minute’s wait, a voice answered.
“Sir, this is Ashok.”
