Predator (12 page)
The Hunt for Clues
Standing by the graveyard where Monica and the previous victims’ bodies had been found, Inspector Khan waited impatiently for the sun to come up. Sleep was just not an option, as this was a race against time. And, to ensure there were no more victims, he had to find Grace and her abductor or abductors, and pronto.
The sight of Monica’s body had filled him with rage. He’d vowed to get to the bottom of it. And now Grace had gone missing, another young girl who’d yet to experience the promise of a bright future. The victims were mostly twenty-one to twenty-nine-year-olds, although, there had been a few who were younger. And who would know this better than him?
It had been a relaxing and uneventful year until they had found the body of Monica in the graveyard which seemed a repeat crime following the discovery of the corpses of four other women including that of a Swedish tourist. The vigil around the graveyard had been tightened by Joe’s personally deployed watchmen, but it hadn’t helped.
The frequency of the crime reflected a recurring pattern – occurring once in six years, but the body count was steadily mounting at an alarming rate. There was no guarantee that Grace was not brutally gang-raped in the otherwise peaceful district.
At the first signs of daybreak, Inspector Khan barked out orders to his twenty-member team that included his men from the police station and the locals. Sipping on a cup of tea, he quietly went over his plan for a grid-search. It was 5.30 a.m., and the rough terrain, steep in places, needed more sunlight to carry out a thorough combing of the area.
As he gave a succinct briefing with instructions to the team of volunteers, he knew there was a tragedy in progress and they didn’t have much time to rescue Grace. The team was given a probability distribution map that covered a perimeter of 10 kilometres with the vineyard as the epicentre. His experience had given him enough wisdom to take a step back and wait for some results before proceeding any further. He needed to keep his cards close to his chest as he played them.
Time was of the essence and every minute lost would only take Grace closer to the brink, and, considering the horrific modus operandi of the crime, she would lose either her mind or her life at the end of it.
Having spent quite a while in the area and based on all the information he could gather about Grace’s last known whereabouts, he gave practical orders for the search that included the terrain and profile of Grace. And, based on his subjective judgement, he listed out the likely indications that his survey team had to keep an eye out for.
The search was marked with a gradient of prioritization: start with the high probability sections for the initial searches, and then move on to areas with less potential of being the place of Grace’s incarceration. Experience had taught him that this controlled procedure would only increase the chances of finding Grace alive and quickly.
On the grid, he had marked out the PLS (point last seen), which was the salon. Her LKP (last known position), before she went missing was her home. Inspector Khan had dispatched a team to look for clues or any signs of physical assault. He expected his phone to ring at any moment.
The search area was a circle, starting from the circumference and converging towards the vineyard. Although Khan and Joe had always been at loggerheads, Joe wasn’t aware that Khan considered him the number one suspect in this case. And, until he had proof to substantiate his suspicions, Khan wanted to maintain status quo with the wine baron.
As the team dispersed, Inspector Khan leaned on his Jeep in silence and contemplated the area. He hoped he would get a call from his team soon. The landscape was wild and rugged with thorny scrub, rocks and boulders. The vineyard was situated on a slightly raised plateau above the undergrowth. He lit up a cigarette and recapped his search instructions, and wondered if his orders had been too pithy, perhaps he should’ve elaborated and given more comprehensive directions.
In his heart, he knew the search was futile. His cop instincts had always made him throw a red herring to take the culprits off their guard. At the same time, he fervently hoped that the search team would find at least one clue that could lead them to her kidnappers and serve as evidence. A scrap of clothing, a piece of jewellery, a watch, a cell phone, etc., would be invaluable to the hunt, and could even save her life.
Keeping in mind the pattern of the crimes, today was the second day – she had another four days to live. But then life would not be worth living for her anymore. By then, the trauma of the gang rapes and the sheer brutality of the ordeal would scar Grace for life.
Staring impatiently at his phone, he wondered why these young girls were so careless and gullible. Their profiles portrayed perfectly sensible, young adults; could they have avoided these tragedies? The cell phone rang and Inspector Khan said brusquely, ‘Tell me you’ve got something … ’
The voice at the other end of the phone spoke in an urgent tone, ‘Unfortunately, no, sir. There are no signs of a struggle here. But, from the looks of it, she had just taken a shower and was getting ready for a party. Otherwise, everything seems to be in order … ’
‘Look sharp! Can you not spot something that could lead us to the bastard?’ shouted Inspector Khan, refusing to believe that his team couldn’t find any clues.
‘Nothing, sir. However, we have her smart phone right here,’ said the voice at the other end after a pause.
‘Oh good! Confiscate it! Seal off the area, I want to take a closer look at the place myself!’ and Inspector Khan hung up, muttering obscenities under his breath.
He knew he would have to get CBI involved in the case. However, that would mean that he would lose control from the local jurisdiction standpoint and be taken off the case. He chose not to. This was personal to him. He decided to seek other help.
Who better than Salmonella to help him, he thought. Although a chip off the old block, she wasn’t really a part of them. A geek gone wild, she was the best when it came to tracking cyber-crime. Even his cyber-cell vouched for it.
He let his mind wander and delved deep into the pockets of his experience with human garbage in the past twenty-five years of his life. Surely, the answers lay there somewhere. Just how depraved could man become?
Two hours later, his cell phone rang again. It was a call from one of the local volunteers in his search team scouring the perimeter around the vineyard. He reported finding a wallet and a pill. No sign of Grace though, and nothing out of the ordinary.
Inspector Khan spoke to him for a few minutes, and smiled when he hung up. His brain moved into overdrive. Finally, he had a suspect. His hunch was pointing in the right direction after all. The weed head, Chris, Joe’s prodigal son, was hooked on ecstasy pills. The wallet belonged to him.
It was close to noon when he decided to pay a visit to Salmonella after inspecting Grace’s residence. Perhaps, it was the demented son-of-God, Chris, who was responsible for it all. Perhaps Joe was protecting him. It was a strong possibility. It could explain Grace’s disappearance and in all probability Monica’s too. He could have had something to do with the Swedish tourist and that little girl as well. Even if he could connect the dots and unravel the mystery for the past two sets of multiple rapes and murders over six years, at this juncture, he figured that solving the case was secondary to saving a life.
Inspector Khan decided that he wouldn’t let Grace die, no matter what the cost. Not after the way his own daughter was brutally raped and killed the same way many years ago. As he thought about her, he gunned the Jeep to life and reached for his hip pocket. He opened the lid and emptied the flask right down to the last drop. This was the only way he could forget the time when he held what was left of the body of his little girl.
He remembered reading about the urban legend. Unfortunately, reality had fuelled the fire. Every six years, there had been reported cases of six pretty, young women gone missing. The bodies of all the victims had been found in the same condition in rapid succession within a span of three weeks. The sixth victim’s corpse had always been found on the 18 October.
Yet again, this year after exactly six years, five cases of rape and murders had already been reported. All the missing persons were beautiful young women. Grace’s abduction was the sixth case and he wondered if there was a pattern. The eighteenth of October was less than a week away. He feared the worst.
Between the first kiss of twilight and the last rays of the setting sun, a crime had been set in motion; Inspector Khan knew he was onto something. He should never have authorized the blasted college reunion. If not for rape, he had something to nail Chris with – drug-peddling and rave parties.
Joe’s Dream – India Wine Competition
Joe sat in his porch taking in the bright sunshine after the sleepless night. The mysterious disappearances of the young woman now a distant memory, Joe let his mind drift towards his dream. A contented smile creased his face as he took a sip of his masterpiece that was bound to win him the golden award at the competition. His personal label, the connoisseur’s choice called Silver Mountain Shiraz 2012.
The India Wine Competition, which was barely a month away, was a prestigious competition that would place the wines produced at Joe’s vineyard on the map worldwide. It had been his dream for a long time to win the annual competitions that hand-picked the competitors in India. Well-known wine critics and writers from all around the world would rate the wines available in India which included both the native and the international brands.
He could visualize the awards ceremony over a gala dinner where his wines would sweep the gold, silver and bronze medals and also get a mention in the ‘commended’ category in the exclusive journals. Second only to the largest wine competition in Asia, this competition was inching ever closer to the Japan Wine Challenge with increased consumption levels in India. His vineyard had a brilliant future.
Joe sighed in deep satisfaction, closed his eyes, quaffed the wine and felt a surge of confidence. He had painstakingly perfected the art of producing fine wines in India. Silver Mountain Shiraz
2012
was certainly his masterpiece – a nonpareil. As the competition would comprise of a panel of internationally acclaimed experts, Joe had taken utmost care to perfect his wine-making methods over a long time. His personal label had entailed a lot of sacrifices along the way.
The judging would be based on a blind, unlabelled basis under the watchful eyes of experts; there could be no room for error whatsoever. The herbs, the grapes, the other ingredients and the methodology of the ageing process, all had to be just so. Joe remembered the time in 1976 when the insular world of wine tasters would refuse to look at anything beyond France.
Having witnessed the blind tasting of wines between the Californian and French wines and watched history being made as the tables turned in favour of Napa Valley, Joe felt almost smug in his conviction that the tables were about to turn again with Silver Mountain Shiraz 2012.
In his favourite reveries, his wines would not only be rated best in each category, his vineyard, his label, his flavour and his wine-making methods would soon become world famous. The time had come when all his sacrifices and his deal with the devil would finally pay off.
Joe had been briefed that there would be approximately five hundred wines from over a hundred and fifty vineyards across the country spanning the various categories. The competition would be blind-tasted with four to eight samples of each flight of wine arranged by the type of grape.
The experts would taste over a hundred wines in a few hours and his label would have to be positioned strategically. Joe had taken care to personally study every person in the panel. He would take care of them with personalized gifts just to be doubly sure. No old-world bandicoot would get the chance to ruin his work of a lifetime.
Over the years, Joe had painstakingly worked not just on perfecting his wines he had also paid great attention to its pairing with the appropriate cuisine. For example the Chianti or Valpolicella complemented the Indian cuisine that had a smattering of tomatoes and cheese. During his initial years in the business, his wines had shown up as acidic or tannic when combined with inappropriate local fare.
His un-oaked Chardonnays and Rieslings were produced specifically with Indian and Oriental menus in mind. Nothing compared to the grapes in his vineyard. His labels would remain peerless, his produce, the cordon bleu of wines. Nobody could surrender himself to grapes the way Joe could.
He let his mind drift and he wondered how many lives had been sacrificed to create the perfect brew. Joe couldn’t care less about how many more there would be. Life had never been the same again since he had perfected his masterpiece – Silver Mountain Shiraz 2012.
Pussycat, pussycat, where have you been?
I’ve been down to London to visit the Queen.
Pussycat, pussycat, what did you do there?
