Chapter 4: The Unveiling

The ambulance siren wailed, and the flashing red and blue lights reflected off the tear-streaked faces of Mr. and Mrs. Vargees. Their daughter, their beloved Anjali, lay lifeless on the cold, wet road. Mrs. Vargees, overcome with grief, clung desperately to her daughter’s body, her sobs the only sound breaking through the tense silence of the scene. Pranav watched from a distance, his heart heavy but his mind racing, trying to piece together what had gone so horribly wrong.

Pranav snapped back into focus. “I need every inch of this garbage dump searched for evidence. Don’t miss a thing!” he barked at the forensic team. Every second counted now.

As the team began their work, Pranav and Thameem rushed to their jeep, heading towards the control room to analyze the CCTV footage. On the way, Pranav couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something missing—something they had overlooked.

“See, Thameem,” Pranav began, his voice low and deliberate, “we know for sure that Anjali was alive when she left the beach at 5:30. Neha was the last person to see her, so whatever happened after that must have been quick. And whoever took her had to know these streets well. You don’t just kidnap someone in broad daylight from a posh area like this without drawing attention. This wasn’t random.”

Thameem, trying to process everything, chimed in, “But what if she was abducted quickly and killed immediately after? Maybe the killer dumped her body later, once the streets were quiet.”

Pranav nodded, considering the possibility. “It’s possible. But it doesn’t feel right. The way she was hidden under garbage—it’s too methodical. It’s as if they had time to think it through.”

As they pulled up to the control room, the light drizzle from the sky grew heavier, casting an eerie atmosphere over the streets. The two hurried inside to review the footage, hoping for some clarity.

They sat in front of the screens, watching the grainy footage carefully. The first clip confirmed Neha’s account—Anjali and Neha were seen cycling together down the street before splitting up and heading in different directions. But the second footage, which showed the street leading to Anjali’s home, revealed something startling.

Anjali appeared on the screen, pedaling down the street. But midway, she stopped and looked across the road, smiling and waving at someone outside the camera’s frame. It was clear that she recognized the person. She said something, left her cycle on the side of the road, and jogged toward whoever was out of the camera’s view. A few minutes later, she returned to her cycle, smiling and calm, before getting on it and riding off, vanishing from the camera’s field of vision.

Pranav frowned. “Who was she talking to?”

“We need footage from the other side,” Thameem said, already preparing for what Pranav would ask next.

Pranav clenched his jaw as Thameem continued, “But sir, that road falls under the Thiruvanmiyur limit. Even if we get permission, I don’t think there are any cameras on that side. It’s a remote sand road after Mr. Vargees’ house. His house is the last one on the row, and the rest is just empty land.”

Pranav’s frustration was visible. “So no cameras, no coverage, and Anjali disappeared into that sand road.” He paused, lost in thought. “Thameem, whoever took her knew that there wouldn’t be any CCTV there. This wasn’t random. They were counting on that.”

The rain began to pour harder as they raced back to the police station, the pieces of the puzzle still scattered. Once they arrived, Pranav got out of the jeep and rushed into his cabin, signaling for Thameem to follow. Inside, the weight of the case pressed down on him. Sitting behind his desk, Pranav instructed, “Thameem, surround that entire sand road. Not now—it’s raining, and we risk losing any evidence left behind. But block off all entry and exit points to that area. If there were tire marks or footprints, I want them preserved.”

Thameem nodded and left to carry out the instructions. Pranav leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes briefly. His mind swirled with possibilities—who had Anjali trusted enough to stop for? Who had the opportunity and the knowledge of the area to abduct her so discreetly?

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Constable Mani entered the room, holding a folder.

“Sir,” Mani said quietly, “the autopsy report has arrived.”

Pranav opened his eyes, a flicker of hope lighting up within him. The answers were coming, and he was ready to start connecting the dots. The truth was out there—he just had to find it.