3 A Father's unsaid words

At six-thirty in the morning, Senior Superintendent William Taman was sitting with his wife in the balcony of his in laws' house when he received a call from the Director of CBI. He put down the cup of herbal tea on the end table and answered his phone.

''A Good Morning to you sir,'' He said sharply, getting up and walking inside to the bedroom. He didn't want to distract his wife from reading the regional section of the morning newspaper.

''Oh, yes Sir. I was informed by Maya.'' He replied over the noisy cawing of crows outside the window. He slid the tinted fiber glass shut to minimize the disturbance. ''If you want I can leave now… Oh-Okay, I'll see you at ten at the quarter… No? Okay Sir, I'll come straight to your office.''

At forty-nine, William had joined the Crime Bureau of Investigation eleven years after he got married to his then girlfriend. The couple had planned to marry only after they both had bagged civil jobs in the country which caused them tying the knot in their early thirties. Their first jobs were in two different cities, William being placed in Mumbai, his home town, as a junior constable, and his wife Hetal had to move to Kolkata for the position of a secretary to the Constitutional Mayor. Two years later, Hetal moved back to Mumbai when her application for a vacancy in a government run news agency was accepted.

The couple helped each other with their works. William often talked about the leads in his cases and Hetal created several theories around them. It was more of a game they enjoyed playing than anything of actual help. Without a biological child of their own, they had adopted a six year old girl from a slum in the city, and they were happy with their small family.

When William was summoned by the senior most officer of CBI, he knew the case at hand was of special interest, and asking him to lead the case wasn't a surprise. In his five years, William had closed two unfinished cases that still sometimes butt against his sub conscience. One was of a young boy who went missing five years ago before reaching his coaching classes in Merut, and the other was of an old man who was murdered in his home four years ago in Ranchi.

William walked back to his lawn chair in the balcony and resumed sipping the cup of tea that had lost most of its heat.

''Anything important?'' Hetal asked, looking up from the sports section.

''They want me to report today, there's this homicide in Juhu. Some producer's daugh-''

''I just read about that a minute ago. It said she was a teenager… can't trust these reports… how old was she really?'' Hetal took her reading glasses off and placed them safely on the small table along with the folded newspaper, brushing off the fact that her husband had to cut his weekend short and drive back to the city.

''I can't say yet. Maya said the producer is some big name in Bollywood… Sigh! Hard to tell with these people. Who's big, who isn't… the girl was with a man who was also found unconscious beside her body.'' William took a last big sip from the grey cup, finishing its entire content. He held the cup in his hand, putting a used dish beside a book or even paper was a cultural disrespect.

''Poor girl, and her father.'' Hetal said lazily with a hint of worry. ''His young daughter was with a married man…he will now have a lot of explaining to do… and to lose a child… I can't imagine what that must be like.''

William gazed at her beautiful wife, something about what she said had struck a chord somewhere deep. Sara was almost eighteen. Even though they had an objective outlook toward life, the image of their own daughter in that situation was a soft but intense blow to his masculine objectivity. He had spent innumerable hours with inconsolable parents in his career to know that no matter how positive you are, you can never be prepared for an event like this. William had a straightforward bond with Sara. They talked about everything important in their lives, even if it meant learning about her first boyfriend, which thankfully for William lasted only a couple of months. Sara had to break up because the boy had no aspirations for his future. William took pride in that reason behind their separation. But now she was turning an adult, ready to make her own decisions, her own mistakes. He just wasn't sure if they had made their daughter strong enough to face their repercussions.

Realizing he hadn't said anything for two minutes, William added, ''They can easily have their PR agents handle the media. And… it's not that difficult to face the world and cook up a lie about your dead child, especially when you're famous, or that you know the public will eat up anything you serve them. It's only a matter of time before the reporters find hotter cars to chase.'' William pulled at the lever of his lounge chair to unlock the back support. ''I should be ready by eight. They've asked Maya to pick me up on her way.''

''On her way?'' Hetal asked curiously.

''She is driving back from Pune… from some assignment, I think. I didn't ask.'' William looked away when he noticed his wife was giving him a scathing look.

''It's no harm taking interest in lives of people who work with you… it builds a relationship.''

''I don't agree.'' William replied, eyes not leaving the sight of a crane digging a hole less than half a kilometer away from his home. Hetal didn't think there was anything left to say to change the distant nature of her husband. She had embraced her defeat long ago; work had inculpated her husband, but didn't mind nudging him every now and then.

***

Twenty-nine year old, sharply dressed in a pant suit, Maya Patel was sitting at the back seat of a shared sedan, cursing under her breath the red light in front, when the driver took a detour to drop another passenger. She was sixteen minutes late already and knew it would take another thirty to reach her stop. Her boss wasn't going to be happy about the delay, he wasn't someone to use mean words, but the look of disappointment on his face was much worse. Maya had wanted to let him know her car had broken down and a carpool was all that was available so early in the morning. She decided to call the director instead and let him handle her boss. So what if she was late, it wasn't her day of duty yet she was called in. A little inconvenience was excusable. She had dallied through her route before entering the city and had run out of petrol. Engine overheating was what her bosses needed to know, she decided slyly.

Her phone buzzed in between her palms. 'Head straight to the crime scene. William will be taking a cab himself.' Maya felt a stream of solace gushing through her veins reading that crisp text from the director. She was only an intern, under the mentorship of William Taman. The man of gravitas was like a teacher in school who you thought was always on to you. He made you feel exposed, like under a microscope, except all the time. Before joining the CBI in her third academic attempt, Maya had wished that if she ever got selected, her boss had to be somebody who kept her on her toes. She despised William for his scrutinizing techniques, but was grateful she was under his wings.

Maya quickly changed the destination in the app. The driver let out a soft grunt, making her feel guilty for extending his trip. The Royal Roofs was an hour and a half away from her previous stop. Maya hoped she reached before her boss; it would save her from a lot of perusal.

In over a year's span, Maya had assisted William in roughly three hundred cases, all of them effortlessly solved, but none had made it to the international news. Murder of a celebrity's kid had turned a flaming bulletin before it had even reached her quarters. After three days of guilt-free praying, the case had come to her boss, and Maya was going to be a part of his squad. The opportunity was an infinite pool of lessons and exposure, and a hot addition to her personal port-folio.

WITH another passenger joining her cab on the way, Maya arrived at the street across from the complex a few minutes short of ten. The scene outside one of the largest man-made settlements in the city was something out of a thriller. Maya had spotted at least twenty cameras around her, all focused on the road and the complex itself. She could easily have one of their attentions if she introduced herself, but that would have been a professional blunder, and hurt her credibility. She wasn't allowed to speak to anybody about an open or closed case until permitted by the authority, which was why she had to take her social profiles off the internet curbing the risk of drunk posting something from work that jeopardized her sweet career.

Maya took a moment to enjoy the music created by overlapping reporting being done around her. They all were basically saying the same things – nineteen year old Donna Netri found dead in an apartment in Royal Roofs. Throat slit, face wounded. No signs of forced entry. Police surfing through the surveillance footage from around the entire Juhu. Donna's postmortem says a blunt knife of about four inches was the weapon used. The man who was with her is in coma in We Care Hospital. The man's identity hasn't been revealed. Jiten Netri refused to answer any questions on his way back from the last rites.