Waving a salaam at the watchman who opened the gates of his building for him, the driver of the hatchback moved his eyes to the clock that stood on his car's dashboard ticking 1.00 am. It had been yet another long day. Parking his car in the allotted space and locking it with a swish movement of the hand that held the key, he marched to the elevator, shut the door closed and slammed on the button 9.
Vedant Vashisht, 52, was a man of energy. Average height, wheatish, hair beginning to bald, belly slightly protruding, he had all the physical qualities of an experienced senior in the profession. He removed his rimless spectacles to rub his eyes as he waited patiently till his floor was reached with his investigating eyes scanning the empty space. Patience. One of the finest virtues he considered himself to possess, something which he believed had helped him reach his current position in the Indian Police Service. Opening the door when the elevator jerked, he walked briskly through the corridor to his flat, his right hand hunting for the keys in his shirt pocket.
Switching on the lights as he entered his 2 bedroom apartment, he let the door to close and lock on its own. Though he was eligible for a police quarters, due to some contingency he was given an apartment. He looked at the emptiness in front of him. For a single man, this apartment in itself was huge. Moreover, he spent very less time at home. The living room, painted blue, had a sofa set and a wall mount TV. Old newspapers were stacked on one corner. He placed his bag on the table, as he removed his shoes and socks. Slipping into his flipflops, he walked to the kitchen. A refrigerator stood on the left while an induction stove sat on the counter, plugged. A small table and chair took its position in one corner which constituted the dining. He noticed the sink slowly filling with dried tea cups and coffee mugs. He had to make some time to set the house clean. But for what? Picking up a bottle of water from the fridge, he directly walked to his room to retire for the day. He had already eaten his dinner in his office not that he had ever had dinner at home. He began unbuttoning his shirt when his mobile screamed.
For a normal person, a call at this hour would mean something disastrous, setting the heartbeats really high. But for Vedant, it was a routine. He was used to getting calls at this hour. He also knew that the call would mean a case. Suspending his unbuttoning task, he sat on his bed looking at the caller id. Control Room.
"Yes!" Vedant answered the call authoritatively and listened intently, his eyebrows curled in confusion. "Alright! I'll send someone." He instantly called another number. "Sagar!"
After informing his officer with the details, Vedant sat lost in thoughts. Another day without peaceful sleep for him. Not that it had ever mattered. For him, duty came first. He loved his job. His determination and brave attitude towards crisis had led him to head the Special Branch for Crime Control in the city. The branch was set up only a few months back and he had assumed the lead position directly.
His colleagues admired him for his no-nonsense attitude and his ability to make difficult decisions. He was deemed a role model by many and rightly so. He didn't have any political affiliation and had always tried to run his cases independent of any political influences. He believed in team work and had always credited his entire team for the success of any case. His current role was to control the crime in the city, which he had been trying to, along with his team.
He checked his watch. 1.20 am. He texted his team for an early day, 6 am. Feeling the weight over his eyes, he got ready to go to bed.
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The vibration of the mobile on his side table woke Vikram immediately. The smallest of the sounds alerted him which he considered his strength, but which had never let him sleep peacefully too. Stretching his hand to grab his phone and squinting his eyes to read the message, exhaustion crept in when he realised he had an early day tomorrow. With a heavy sigh, he turned to get back to sleep.
"Early day?" asked his wife sleeping next to him. She had her eyes still closed.
"Yes...You get back to sleep. I'll get ready and leave on my own...," replied Vikram casually.
"You do remember what day it is tomorrow, right?" asked Shilpa, opening her eyes and eyeing her husband.
Vikram smiled instinctively. He knew what his wife was getting at. "Yes I remember. Do you think I will forget? It's our wedding anniversary tomorrow and I have promised you we will go out for dinner..."
"You are sure you will keep your promise this time?" Shilpa asked curiously with a pinch of tease.
"You will see..." replied Vikram determinedly. "Get back to sleep now....
Silence filled the room once again. Vikram looked at his wife with love. 12 years of marriage tomorrow. Not a single day he had regretted his decision to rebel his parents and marry his love. In spite of his nature of work, he had never failed to look after his family. His strength was his family, importantly his daughter. His career had been filled with numerous events and controversies mainly because of his ability to lose his temper within moments. His style of working had never impressed his seniors as he didn't believe in protocols, hence his several transfers. Yet, his talent to solve cases had built him a positive reputation. After many years, he had finally sensed his current team might probably be the one where he might be able to sustain for a longer time. His freedom wasn't curtailed here.
Vikram checked his watch. It was nearly 2 am. He swiftly walked out of his room to check on his daughter. He saw his girl curled up on her bed in a deep sleep. A contented smile painted his face.
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The blue bulb on top of the ambulance and the red bulb on top of the police jeep twirled simultaneously, colouring the air of the crime scene. Colouring the ground of the crime scene was a pool of blood with countless pieces of glass spread across the length and breadth of the road. Sagar supervised as the body of an elderly was boarded into the ambulance to be taken for post-mortem. Pictures of the crime scene were being clicked and two policemen were canvassing the area collecting evidence. The area was taped, traffic was diverted to one side of the road, cars stopped wanting to know what was happening, and people surrounded to get a glimpse of the area probably to tell stories to their families the next day.
Sagar knelt down investigating the road. At 31, tall and well built, he was considered a great potential for the future. His ability to reconstruct the crime scene had helped in solving cases several times. His energy and passion for his profession served his entire team to stay motivated all the time. Though not as experienced as his seniors, he never shied away from voicing out his views and opinions. Popular for his talkativeness, his way of interrogating people and convincing them to talk to him had always been widely appreciated by his team.
"Sir!" the medic of the ambulance called Sagar to get his signature. Sagar read through the details and signed the paper, taking a copy of the signed paper. He saw the ambulance leave and then focused on the crime scene. He walked to the section where a damaged bike lay on the road. He surveyed the bike and the pool of dry petrol.
"I emptied the petrol tank as it had started leaking," informed one of the officers. Sagar nodded as he checked the tyre marks and impact marks on the road. He checked the scratches on the bike too. He raised his hand to invite the attention of the photographer, who came running to him.
"Take close pictures of all the tyre marks. I want an overview picture of the entire crime scene. You can take it from one of the buildings I assume..." instructed Sagar.
The photographer agreed as he left to continue his work.
"Collect as many glass pieces as possible from the roads. I want to know if all the pieces belong to one vehicle or multiple ones. I assume you had sent blood samples to the lab. Canvas the area once more and pick up anything that can be remotely connected to our case."
As the officer left, Sagar picked up his mobile and sent a message to his head, Vedant. "Hit and Run!"
YOU ARE READING
Crime Control Squad
Mystery / ThrillerCase#1 - Murder in Disguise When an Ex-Army officer gets killed in a hit and run, Special Branch is caught in a dilemma whether to proceed the case as a hit and run or a planned murder due to the victim's involvement in an old case connecting to a g...