At Behala Police Station a sense of urgency filled the air. The magistrate had ordered the transfer of the corpse to the morgue in Katapukur for an autopsy. The morgue was a grim and cold place but it was where the truth needed to come to light. Reporters crowded the station like vultures eager to pry information from anyone connected to the case. They pressed around the frail patriarch of the Parmar family. An old feeble man who sat quietly in a corner with his unreadable expression. Officer Sharma exchanged a concerned glance with Inspector Roy. "How's he holding up?" Sharma asked quietly. Roy shook his head. "That's the odd part. He responds to questions as if he's completely detached from everything. No emotion, no fear, he's almost like…he's vacant." The old man spoke softly yet steadily to the gathered crowd. "My daughter-in-law died a natural death. There's nothing more to discuss." But the police were sceptical. The post-mortem was bound to be complicated. The viscera, the internal organs had been severed a year ago. It was a calculated move to hinder decomposition and complicate the autopsy. It was a deliberate attempt to obscure the truth and make it nearly impossible to convict Kanishk of murder. Inspector Roy frowned. "Either this old man is innocent…or he's playing us for fools." In a trice the chaotic chatter in the room fell silent. All eyes turned to the old man whose face twisted into a grimace. He lowered his head and wrinkled his nose and then maliciously sneered sending a chill through the room.
Without warning he jabbed his index finger down on the table while trying to stop a line of red ants marching toward a pile of sugar grains scattered near some empty tea cups. "Stop!" he barked. His voice felt sharp and commanding. The ants continued their relentless march seemingly oblivious. To everyone's surprise the old man let out a strange cheer as if he found humour in the futility of his efforts. A junior officer leaned in and whispered, "Is he…losing his mind?" Nearby a conch shell lay sealed in an evidence packet. The old man's unblinking gaze was fixed on it as if it contained some hidden message. Detective Sen had been observing quietly and then muttered, "This isn't just a man pretending to be ignorant. There's something deeper going on here." Then without hesitation the old man spoke with his loud clear and unwavering voice. "The freezers and chemicals…they weren't easy to acquire," he said. His eyes gleaming with intensity. "Kanishk used the names of various leather companies to get them from suppliers. He was meticulous. He wanted one freezer on standby because maintaining the exact temperature and chemical balance was critical." A stunned silence enveloped the room. Inspector Roy broke the quiet. "So this was premeditated? He planned every detail?" The old man nodded slowly. "Yes. Kanishk wasn't reckless. He was desperate but careful. He feared failure more than anything." A forensic expert stepped forward. "That explains the precision of the preservation. This wasn't some amateur attempt. It was scientific and pre-calculated." Outside the police station the reporters clamoured for answers, but inside the station the pieces of the puzzle began forming a chilling picture.
Kanishk Parmar who had had been a promising clinical research associate had crossed a line from which there was no return. As the old man's revelations echoed through the room, the officers realized that the search for Kanishk and his wife, Samaira, had become more urgent than ever. The couple was not just fugitives rather, they were key to unlocking the dark secrets hidden within the cold confines of Behala.