Chapter 6: Ritu’s Revelation

6

I suspected there must be some unspeakable secret between Ananya and Prakash.

My notebook was filling up with questions, each one heavier than the last. Somewhere in the web of lies and silence, the truth waited, poisonous and patient.

But one was a blossoming young girl, the other a greasy, middle-aged man in his forties—I really couldn’t imagine what kind of relationship they could have.

Mumbai is full of unlikely friendships—maids who help their sahib’s children with homework, watchmen who remember your birthday. Still, this? It didn’t add up.

Given that Ananya was almost completely monitored by her parents at home, her only chance to contact Prakash would be at school.

School—the one place parents can’t supervise every minute. I scribbled a note to myself, vowing to check every corner of her academic life.

I took Prakash’s photo and went to Ananya’s school to investigate, but her teachers and classmates all said they’d never seen him.

The principal, a portly man in a crisp white kurta, shook his head. “No, no, we have strict visitor protocols. Nobody like this has come here.” The watchman swore on his daughter’s life. The ayah at the gate looked at the photo and tutted, “Nahi beta, not seen.”

Just as I was about to leave, a girl with manicured nails suddenly grabbed my arm. “If I give you a clue, will there be a reward?”

She was bold, chin up, the kind of girl who knows her own worth. Her uniform skirt was a little too short, her hair streaked with brown. I glanced at her name tag—Ritu.

I smiled wryly. Prakash had already been caught, so there was no reward, but I really needed a clue.

I remembered the DCP’s words—“Sometimes you have to grease the wheels, beta.” I took out my phone, ready to negotiate.

I added the girl on WhatsApp and sent her a Rs. 200 PayTM transfer. Her name was Ritu, and her status was full of nightclub selfies.

Within seconds, I got a dancing GIF as a reply. Ritu sent a thumbs up, then a selfie with a pout. Her WhatsApp status read: "Life is a party. #YOLO #SoDoneWithSchool"

Ritu didn’t immediately share her clue. Instead, she told me to wait for her at the school gate after class. I had no choice but to agree.

She smiled slyly, “Sir, please wait for me. I have tuition till five. Then we talk, okay?” I agreed, making a mental note to keep my wallet handy.

After school, Ritu ran over and, instead of anything dramatic, she linked her arm through mine, snapping a selfie with me for her WhatsApp story.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Two aunties across the road tut-tutted disapprovingly, and the panwala grinned. I gently disentangled myself, whispering, “Arrey, what are you doing, madam?”

My heart thudded. Last thing I needed was for this to end up in the station’s group chat. I scanned the area—thankfully, no constables in sight.

Ritu winked at me. “Help me out. I’ve been harassed by a few boys lately. If they see I have a police boyfriend, no one will dare bother me.”

She leaned in, lowering her voice. “That white Swift across the road? They keep catcalling me. You stand here, na, for five minutes.”

I looked across the street. Sure enough, four cocky young men sat in a white Swift. When they saw me, they quickly rolled up the windows and sped off.

They glared at me, then peeled away, wheels screeching. Ritu gave a satisfied laugh. “See? Works every time.”

Ritu asked me to buy her a cold coffee. She pulled out a box of cigarettes and lit one right in front of me.

We sat on the low wall outside a Café Coffee Day. She sipped her drink, exhaling smoke in a perfect ring, not caring who stared. I wondered if she’d really seen Prakash, or if she was just playing me.

Was this all just a distraction? Still, I needed answers. I steeled myself for her next move.

“First tell me, why didn’t Ananya come to school? Why are you investigating her?”

“She’s dead. Murdered.” I tapped Prakash’s photo. “This man is the suspect.”

Ritu’s eyes widened, her bravado faltering. She took a shaky drag of her cigarette, then squinted at the photo again.

Ritu took the photo and studied it carefully, then declared, “Impossible. He definitely isn’t the murderer.”

Her certainty startled me. “Why not?” I asked, more curious than ever.

“Why do you say that?”

“This man is Ananya’s father! How could he possibly kill his own daughter?”

Her words hit me like a thunderclap, echoing in my mind. Ritu’s words hung in the humid air, her eyes daring me to contradict her, as the city’s chaos seemed to pause for just a moment. Was everything I thought I knew about the case a lie?