Chapter 6: A Pattern Broken

Pranav knelt by Shruti’s body, his mind numb from the realization that he had failed to prevent another murder. This time, something felt different. As the forensic team began to clean the scene, Pranav told them to wait. He crouched down, inspecting the area around Shruti’s body.

The floor was wet, as though it had been cleaned hurriedly. The wound was fresh, and there, on the table beside her, was a note from her diary. Pranav picked it up and examined it closely. The ink was still drying, and the handwriting—it was off. It didn’t quite match Shruti’s handwriting from other notes he had seen earlier. It seemed as if someone had tried to mimic her handwriting but hadn’t done a perfect job.

As Pranav stared at the note, his phone rang. It was the assistant commissioner, demanding an update on the case. Pranav’s voice was strained as he explained the newest developments. The assistant commissioner was growing impatient, pressing Pranav to wrap up the investigation quickly.

“You’ve got three days to solve this, Pranav,” the assistant commissioner said sternly. “If you don’t, we’ll have to bring in someone else to take over.”

Pranav hung up the phone, feeling a surge of frustration. He slammed his fist against the wall, letting out a growl of anger.

Ashok tried to calm him down. “Sir, take a break. Let’s head back to my place. You’ve been running on fumes. We need to regroup.”

Pranav reluctantly agreed. He gathered the private file from the doctor’s apartment and followed Ashok back to his home. The silence in the car was suffocating, the weight of the unsolved case pressing down on both of them.

When they arrived, Ashok made some coffee and sat across from Pranav as they began to review the details of the case once again.

“This last murder,” Pranav said, breaking the silence. “Something’s off. It doesn’t fit. The others were so precise, so meticulous. But Shruti’s murder—it feels sloppy, rushed. The handwriting on the note doesn’t match hers. And the floor was wet, like someone was trying to clean up in a hurry.”

Ashok frowned, thinking it over. “But the pattern is the same—same age range for the victim, same method of killing, same kind of note.”

Pranav shook his head. “No, Ashok. The rest of the murders were calculated, but this one wasn’t. The killer tried to replicate the same scene but didn’t have time to get it right. “It’s almost like the killer was trying to tie up loose ends,” Pranav continued, his voice growing more intense. “But they were rushing. Whoever did this wasn’t as careful this time. The previous murders were cold, methodical, planned. This one—it feels different.”

Ashok listened carefully, his brow furrowed as he considered Pranav’s words. “You think someone else might have been involved in Shruti’s murder? Someone trying to mimic the original killer?”

Pranav leaned back, staring at the ceiling as he pieced together his thoughts. “Maybe… or maybe the real mastermind behind all of this isn’t who we think it is. What if the actual killer has been manipulating others to do the dirty work? Like pawns in a larger game. All the signs point to someone controlling the situation from the shadows.”

Ashok’s eyes widened. “But if that’s the case, who’s pulling the strings? And why would they kill the doctor?”

Pranav rubbed his temples, the weight of the investigation pressing down on him. “That’s the part we need to figure out. The doctor wasn’t like the other victims—he was a key player in this. He had the files on all the women, all suffering from PTSD. He was terminated from his previous hospital for improper medical practices. Maybe he was treating these women, but there’s something darker here. He wasn’t just helping them—he was controlling them.”

Ashok was stunned. “You’re saying the doctor was manipulating these women? But to what end?”

Pranav stood up, pacing back and forth across the room. “He was using them, Ashok. For what, I don’t know yet, but look at the pattern. The doctor had access to these women, and after each murder, there’s a note, a camera—someone’s been watching. The killer isn’t just killing—they’re orchestrating a sick game, and the doctor was part of it. But someone higher up is still pulling the strings.”

Ashok nodded slowly. “Then Shruti’s murder was different because the doctor was dead. Whoever killed her had to act fast before we connected the dots.”

Pranav stopped pacing, his eyes locking on a painting of a riverbank on Ashok’s wall. A flood of memories rushed back to him—his father’s unsolved case, the body found near the riverbank after the disbandment of the country band. The violins. The missing people. The note. It all pointed to something bigger.

Pranav turned to Ashok, his voice firm. “There’s a mastermind behind all of this, someone who’s been watching from the beginning. The doctor may have been a pawn, but the real player is still out there. We need to dig deeper into his past—his connections, his colleagues, anyone he might have worked with. And we need to find out why this band and those violins keep coming up. They’re the key to all of this.”

Ashok stood, ready to follow Pranav’s lead. “I’ll get my team on it immediately. We’ll dig up everything we can on the doctor’s history. But what about Shruti’s murder? Who did it?”

Pranav stared at the painting, the riverbank etched in his mind. “That’s what we need to find out, Ashok. The answer is in the details, and we’re running out of time.”

As Ashok began to mobilize his team, Pranav couldn’t shake the feeling that the game was far from over. Someone was still watching, still controlling the pieces on the board. And unless they acted quickly, more lives would be lost.