understand what it could mean. Our experts are in the process of examining the letter.’
‘How do you know he will kill again?’ a voice piped up from the far corner of the table. All eyes now turned towards the woman who had asked the question. Maya Taneja had not spoken till now, choosing instead to keep her eyes fixed on her phone. Everyone around the table knew Maya, and how quickly she had climbed the rungs of the corporate ladder by dint of sheer industry. A year shy of 40, she was, by far, the youngest journalist in the room, and yet she exuded a calm confidence that helped create a no-nonsense aura around her. Even the most senior journalists seated around the table nodded at her question, and turned to face the DCP with inquisitive expressions.
‘That’s a good question,’ said the DCP. ‘We think our man has certain…I find it hard to say…principles. He informed us about the first murder – there was no reason for him to do so.’
‘Well, perhaps he just wants the attention of the media,’ Maya said calmly.
‘It is possible – which is exactly why I’m requesting you to not carry the news. We’ll deny him that attention and hope that he makes a mistake.’
‘But that doesn’t answer my question,’ Maya said. ‘How do you know he will kill again?’
‘Yes, and how can you be sure that this murder is connected to that letter?’ someone else asked from the other end of the table.
‘I was coming to that. The answers to both your questions will be clear when I show you this.’DCP Singh gestured to an officer who tapped a key on a laptop. The slide on the screen changed.
‘The second letter, found on the body of Mr Saran,’announced DCP Singh, as all eyes in the room locked intently on to the screen. The similarity between the two letters was unmistakable. The same kind of paper, the same handwriting, and the same diamond symbol. DCP Singh read it out loud.
‘The rain won’t spoil my play. I won’t let it. This is so much fun. I bet you’re having fun too? Aren’t you? Please don’t leave the game. I have a fresh new body for you. Caught somewhere high up, near a place where dull boys only work and work and work, and do not play. I don’t think the sun is going to come out anytime soon. Good. Neither will the rain stop…and nor will I.’
4
As the last person left and the doors of the lift slid to a close, Karan grabbed Reena’s waist and pulled her towards himself.
‘Not now, not here,’ said Reena as she smiled and tried to playfully wriggle free from his grasp.
‘Why?’ asked an exasperated Karan. He had been waiting for this moment for a long time. And now that they were finally alone, look at what the bitch was saying! It was she who had been enticing him all along, wasn’t it? Those meaningful glances, those seemingly coincidental meetings at the water-cooler, and now…damn it all…was she suddenly finding it difficult to cope with the fact that she was married?
‘Patience, my dear,’ Reena said with a ravishingly foxy expression in her eyes, and hit the ‘Stop’ button. The elevator jerked to a halt.
‘In here ?’ Karan was excited and nervous at the same time. Reena was gorgeous, and if he were to give in to his raw desires, he would claw the last thread of fabric off her skin and fuck her brains out, right here, right now. But…
It would be too risky. His friends knew that he had the hots for Reena. Karan cursed his decision to tell them. What could he have done? He was drunk. That bastard Sachin even knew that Karan was meeting Reena tonight in the office canteen. If they remained stuck in an elevator for several minutes and someone found out, tongues would wag and eyebrows would be raised. Blasted luck!
‘No,’ said Reena, biting her lips, ‘I know a better place.’ She turned and Karan was surprised to see her hit the button for the twelfth floor.
‘No, no…you don’t get it…the auditorium will be locked right now,’ Karan