The silence in Inspector Rathod's office stretched for a full minute after he slammed the phone down. It was a tense, charged quiet. Rathod stewed behind his desk, Neel sat perfectly still, a model of unnerving patience, and Maya Sharma stood by the wall, watching the two men like a spectator at a duel, her own anxieties temporarily eclipsed by the clash of wills.
The door opened without a preliminary knock. The woman who entered was in her late twenties, her uniform immaculate, her hair pulled back in a severe, practical bun. She moved with an air of crisp efficiency, her eyes sharp and intelligent. She was not beautiful in a conventional sense, but her features were strong and her expression was one of formidable competence. This was not an officer who wasted time or suffered fools.
"Sir, you called for me?" she said, her voice clear and direct as she addressed Rathod, though her gaze had already swept over Neel and Maya, cataloging and assessing them in a single, fluid glance.
"Ah, Riya. Yes," Rathod said, leaning back in his chair with a put-on casualness. "This is Mr. Neel Verma." He gestured vaguely at Neel. "He's a private investigator from Jodhpur, a... consultant, hired by Ms. Sharma." He nodded towards Maya. "He thinks he can solve a case that has the entire department stumped."
Inspector Riya Singh's expression didn't change, but a flicker of understanding—and perhaps annoyance—passed through her eyes. She had heard the whispers, of course. The Ghost of the CBI. Another outsider, another 'expert' brought in to show the local police how it was done.
"Mr. Verma needs access to the Nahargarh crime scene," Rathod continued. "You're his official liaison. Take him up there. Show him what he wants to see. Your orders are to cooperate fully. But," he added, his eyes locking onto Riya's, "you report everything, and I mean everything, directly back to me. Understood?"
"Understood, sir," she said, her professionalism a stark contrast to Rathod's barely concealed irritation. She turned her full attention to Neel. "Mr. Verma. I'm Inspector Singh. If you're ready, I can escort you and Ms. Sharma to the fort now."
Her tone was perfectly civil, yet it carried an unmistakable challenge. It said, I am a professional doing my job, but do not mistake my compliance for endorsement.
Neel simply stood up. "I'm ready," he said.
As they walked out of the office and down the bustling corridor, leaving Rathod to his paperwork and his temper, Riya fell into step beside Neel. Maya followed a pace behind, a silent observer.
"Just so we are clear, Mr. Verma," Riya said, her voice low and even, meant for him alone. "I have read the preliminary reports. I have studied the crime scene photos. I am aware of the... logistical impossibilities. I do not believe in ghosts. I believe in evidence that we have not yet found."
"A logical position," Neel replied, his gaze fixed straight ahead.
"This is my city," she continued, undeterred by his clipped response. "I know its history, its people, its secrets. I will provide you with any support you require. In return, I expect to be kept fully apprised of your methods, your lines of inquiry, and any conclusions you might draw. This is still a Jaipur Police investigation."
They reached the main entrance and stepped out into the oppressive evening heat. A standard white police jeep was waiting for them.
Neel stopped and turned to face her, his gaze meeting hers for the first time. His eyes were dark, and for a moment, Riya felt as if he were looking not at her, but through her, analyzing the very structure of her thoughts.
"Inspector," he said, his voice quiet but carrying an absolute authority that silenced the city's noise around them. "I do not have methods. I have observations. I do not form conclusions. I eliminate impossibilities. You will not be 'apprised' of what I find. You will be standing next to me when I find it. Now, shall we go and see this impossible room?"
Riya held his gaze for a second longer, a spark of defiance warring with a grudging respect. This was not the arrogant, swaggering consultant she had expected. This was something else entirely. Without another word, she nodded, turned, and got into the driver's seat of the jeep.
Maya slipped into the back, and Neel took the passenger seat. As the jeep pulled out into the chaotic Jaipur traffic and began the winding ascent towards the dark silhouette of Nahargarh Fort, a new, uneasy alliance was forged. The Ghost and the Skeptic were on their way to the scene of the crime, heading toward a mystery that lay waiting for them in the silent, shadowed palace of a long-dead king.