Your parents called. They've been trying to reach you," Inspector Rana said. His voice was noticeably calmer than earlier.
"Sorry, sir. I had kept my phone away," I replied. Truthfully, I was trying to avoid them.
"They're coming from Alwar. Should be here in a few hours."
"Damn," I muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Call your friend here too. Let's talk."
I stepped out and woke up Saurabh. We both followed Inspector Rana back into his office.
"This case is big. National news," Rana said.
"I know, sir," I responded.
"How? What do you know?"
"I saw it on TV. Reporters were all over the station."
"For your own sake, stay away from the press."
"I didn't talk to them, sir. They surrounded me when I stepped out to get food. I ran back inside."
"Have you eaten anything since morning?"
Saurabh shook his head firmly. Rana called out to a peon and asked for snacks. Soon, two cups of tea and a plate of potato fritters arrived. He ordered us to eat. I took slow bites while he continued.
"Your father spoke to me. He's, what, the head of some Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh unit in Rajasthan?"
"One of the state-level campaign heads," I clarified.
"Yeah. He also spoke to the South Delhi MP. Hauz Khas falls under their jurisdiction."
Now I understood the sudden politeness—tea, snacks, and all. In India, power is only treated with more power.
"But don't assume I'll go soft on you because of political connections. If anything, I'll be stricter," he added, as if reading my thoughts.
"Of course, sir. But we truly are innocent," Saurabh said—his first words of the day.
"Innocence is the only thing that will set you free," the inspector said. "This case is all over the news. If the media claims that the police are being lenient because of your contacts, I'm finished."
Wait. Was I the accused? No. That couldn't be.
"Sir… Accused?" I asked, baffled.
"I said if you were. There's circumstantial evidence. But fortunately, we've found something that may help you."
"What is it, sir?" Saurabh and I asked in unison.
"We checked the campus register. You entered on your Enfield at 3:14 a.m. So, the earliest you could've been in Zara's room is around 3:20."
"Yes, sir. That's when I reached. My bike is still on campus."
"You called her parents at 3:38, then the police at 3:40. We arrived at 3:52 and saw the body at 3:54."
"Right, sir," I said, not sure where this was going.
"Now, suppose you got there at 3:20 and killed her by 3:35."
"I didn't, sir."
"Quiet. Just listen."
"Yes, sir."
"So you kill her at 3:35. I saw the body at 3:54. I'm no forensic expert, but I've seen enough corpses. That body didn't look twenty minutes dead—it was much stiffer, much colder."
I sighed with relief.
"I know, sir. She was already cold when I got there."
"Well, an autopsy would've helped. But her parents refused."
"Why?" I asked.
"Religious beliefs? Who knows. They said they wanted to bury her undisturbed. We tried explaining the procedure—we cut and stitch the body—but they wouldn't listen."
We stayed silent.
"I've still sent a coroner. Maybe he'll get permission for an external exam."
He checked his notes.
"There were no injuries apart from strangulation marks on the neck. No signs of sexual assault either."
He talked about death and assault like we discussed math at coaching classes.
"We've spoken to her hostel-mates. Was it a holiday on campus?"
"Possibly. There used to be a mid-semester break around February," I said.
"Right. The hostel was near empty. Only three other girls in her wing stayed back."
"Yes, sir," Saurabh added.
"We're checking the hostel entrance CCTV. We've asked for Zara's phone records. We've already tracked the fiancé's cell location and spoken to him. I haven't slept all night. We're doing our best," Rana said. One minute I was the suspect, the next, he wanted me to praise him.
"Yes, sir. You're doing your best."
"Then why is the media shouting 'Clueless Delhi Police'?" He slammed his fists on the table.
"What are we supposed to do? Install cops in every bedroom? We can't prevent crimes. We solve them!"
"Right," I said, saying what I assumed he wanted to hear.
"These things take time. There's no app to solve a murder, is there?"
"Not yet," Saurabh muttered. I wanted to kick him under the table.
Rana looked sharply at him.
"No, sir," I quickly said to divert attention.
"They want an arrest. If I don't arrest someone, I'm lazy. If I arrest everyone, I'm incompetent. What do they expect?"
I tried to think of an answer that didn't involve yelling.
"I don't know, sir. Maybe… ignore the media?"
"I could. But politicians don't. My seniors report to them. And they come for me."
Just then, his phone rang.
"Yes. Okay... you sure? You saw the full footage? What time? 2:02 to 2:41 a.m.? Okay, good."
He stepped aside to scribble something, still on the call. After a few minutes, he returned to us.
"By the way, I spoke to your father. I respect him. A real gentleman. He never tried to influence the case."
"Right, sir. He would never do that." Especially not for a worthless son like me, I thought but didn't say.
"And I want to give him good news when he arrives."
"What news?"
"That you are not the main suspect."
Main suspect? I didn't want to be any kind of suspect!
"Right, sir," I said nervously.
"The watchman—Laxman Reddy—was missing from his post from 2:02 to 2:41 a.m. CCTV confirmed it."
"Oh," I said. "So someone could've entered the hostel then?"
"Exactly. But there's more," Rana said, eyes glinting.
"What is it?" Saurabh asked.
"Zara had a big fight with this same watchman a month ago. Slapped him in the hostel lobby. In front of witnesses."
"Really? Why?" I asked.
"That, we don't know. But we'll find out. I told you—we're good."
"Yes, sir. Just curious—who told you about the fight?"
He flipped through his notes.
"Ruchika Gill, fourth-year student. Room 109. And another girl, Subhadra Pande, Room 203. My sub-inspector just spoke to them. We're putting in the effort, even if the media doesn't care."
I stayed quiet. Rana stood up.
"Biren!" he called out.
A constable came running in.
"Yes, sir!"
"Is Laxman Reddy here?"
"Yes, sir. He's asleep on a chair outside."
"Wake him with two slaps. Then send him in."
"Yes, sir," the constable replied, delighted by the lawful opportunity to slap someone.
Rana turned back to us.
"Wait outside. Sorry, you still can't leave."
Saurabh and I stood and walked out. As we exited, we saw Laxman Reddy walking in—back bent, hands folded.
Seconds later, the sound of slaps echoed from the room behind us.