Chapter 8: The Investigation
Manish woke up with a start. He looked at the clock. 8 AM. How could that be. He had arrived home at 8:30 am. Unless he slept almost 24 hours, it couldn't be 8 AM.
Looking around, the first thing he noticed was that the crib was gone. The closet he had originally got for Snigdha's clothes when she first moved in -- which was now being used by Vivek was gone too.
His heart was pounding as he rushed to the bedroom. The door was closed. He opened it slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. Empty. No sign of Snigdha, their son, Vivek or any of his friends.
He realized everything in the room was wrong. There were no baby clothes in sight. No women's clothes. All he saw were his own discarded jeans and t-shirts.
"Snigdha," he call out loudly. No reply. He checked the bathroom. Empty. Kitchen, empty. His house was more than empty. It had no trace of his wife, son or brother. He couldn't find their clothes or their pictures.
He checked his phone. No pictures there either. Neither his wife's nor his brother's phone number were on his contacts list. How was this possible?
What the fuck was going on? Manish's mind was racing, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to make sense of the situation.
Think, he told himself. Sitting down on the couch, he replayed everything he remembered since his flight landed. Yesterday? He looked at his watch. No his flight landed today. How was that possible.
Had the thugs from two years ago finally traced her? Why and how could they strip the house of any trace of her or his kid. What happened to his brother and his belongings.
His mind was whirring. He ran out of the house and down to the garage. His car was gone. He ran back up and ransacked the house. No trace anywhere. He was going crazy.
---
An hour later, he found himself in the police station.
It looked exactly the same as before, the same grimy walls, the same disinterested cop behind the desk. But this time, Pradhan wasn't there.
"Can I help you?" The cop asked, not looking up from his magazine.
"Yes, I need to speak with Inspector Pradhan. It's urgent."
The cop finally looked up, his eyes scanning Manish's disheveled appearance. "He's not on duty today. Come back later."
"But it's urgent," Manish insisted, his voice shaking. "I need help."
The cop sighed, putting down his magazine.
"Do you know Inspector Pradhan?" the cop asked reaching for the phone.
"Yes, tell him Manish is here. If he doesn't remember, tell him I am the guy from the kidnapping attempt a couple years ago."
There was a confused look on the cop's face as he dialed a number. He pointed to a seat and asked Manish to wait there.
Manish couldn't hear the conversation from where he was sitting. Disconnecting the call, the copy grabbed a notebook and came over to him.
"Pradhan Sir will be here shortly," he said, "in the meantime, can you give me your details and tell me what you wanted to see him about."
The cop noted down as Manish gave him his name, address, phone number, and office details before telling him how his wife, kid and twin brother had gone missing without a trace.
How the house was stripped of all personal belongings and memories. How he had found his house empty except for his own clothes and belongings.
He left out the part about finding his wife in bed with his twin and four other strangers when he got home from a two week work trip.
The cop took copious notes and asked a question here and there to clarify the narrative and get more details. He was close to the end his story when Pradhan strode in.
The cop stood up, saluted and walked up to Pradhan. They had a hushed conversation and Pradhan read the cop's notes while listening to him. He had the same confidence and authority Manish remembered.
Finally, Pradhan turned and looked at him. Smiling with the same warmth Manish remembered, he strode over and asked Manish to accompany him to his office.
Manish repeated the story to Pradhan, who listened patiently, checking his narrative against the cop's notes and making a few notes of his own.
As Manish finished his narrative, Pradhan closed the notebook and looked up at him with kindness in his eyes.
"Mr. Sharma, I understand the shock and trauma you must be going through right now. And I want to assure you that we will do everything in our power to help you find your family. You also mentioned a kidnapping attempt two years ago to my colleague."
"Yes, remember?" Manish said, "it was raining heavily that night. I was walking home when I saw the thugs trying to kidnap a girl. I called and you answered the call. You foiled the attempt and kidnapped the thugs. She refused to go to the hospital and came home with me? We got married and now I have a son."
"Wait a minute," Pradhan interrupted, "I was stationed in Agartala two years ago. My colleague checked and there is no record of a foiled kidnapping attempt from that time."
"That's impossible," Manish said, his voice rising. "I remember that night like it was yesterday. You were there, you saved us both."
Pradhan's expression didn't change. He picked up the notebook and flipped through the pages. "Mr. Sharma, I understand that this is a difficult time for you. But I assure you, there is no record of any such incident. And I am 100% sure I have never met you before. I don't forget cases or faces that easily."
Manish's heart pounded in his chest. "But...but that can't be right. I was there."
"Sir, you are clearly in shock. Mind plays tricks in traumatic situations like this. But the case from two years ago isn't that important right now. What's important is that we get the investigation started. But we are going to need some photos of your family to help with the investigation. And also, some of your wife's clothes and personal belongings to identify her body if we find it."
Manish stared at him blankly. This was the third time Pradhan was asking him for these things. But he just couldn't process his words. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion, disbelief, and fear.
"My twin brother looks exactly like me, except that he is built like a tank, all muscle. I already told the other cop and you that I can't find any trace of my wife and son. No pictures, even on my phone. No clothes, nothing."
Manish buried his face in his hands, at a complete loss.
He couldn’t comprehend what was happening.
Pradhan sat back in his chair, his eyes filled with concern. "Manish, listen to me. I understand that you are upset, but you need to help us out here."
Manish shook his head, his voice a whisper. "I... I can't find anything. It's like they never existed."
Pradhan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I know this is hard. But we have to try. Think back, Manish."
They talked for a while more and Pradhan agreed to start the investigation through birth records and crime databases. He sent have him his business card with his personal number and sent him hope with the promise of keeping him updated.
Watching Manish leave the station in a daze, he made a mental note to personally follow this case. Something about it didn't sit right.
He returned to his desk, Pradhan thought about what Manish had said. The details were so vivid in his mind's eye. He could almost see the rain-soaked streets, the struggle, the fear in the young girl's eyes, and the way Manish had protected her. Except, none of it had ever happened.
Logging into the computer, he pulled up the nationwide crime database, searching for any reports of a kidnapping from two years ago. There were some cases but none in Mumbai and none even remotely resembling the case Manish was talking about.
---
A week had passed since Manish walked into the police station. He had been there every single day. Pradhan was across the desk as a guy walked in and placed a cup of chai each in front of Pradhan and Manish.
Manish absentmindedly took a sip, the sweet spicy milk momentarily distracting him from the nightmare his life had become. Pradhan looked up from the stacks of files and case reports.
"Manish, we've been through your story a thousand times. We have investigated every avenue available to us. I'm sorry, but we just can't find anything here."
Manish looked down at the floor, his voice barely audible. "But... but... I know she existed. I know my son existed. I know Vivek existed."
Pradhan sighed, rubbing his temples. "Manish, I believe you. I really do. But we can't find any records anywhere of any of their existence. There's no birth record of Vivek or your son. No hospital has any records of your wife or you. There is no record of a passenger called Vivek Sharma arriving in Mumbai on the date you mentioned or a week before and after. There's no record of any car registered in your name. Nobody at your office recalls attending your wedding. Your HR records show you as single. Tell me, what are we to make of this?" Pradhan asked, frustration evident in his voice. "A man walks in here, claims his wife, brother, and child have gone missing, yet there's no evidence of their existence. No records, no photos, no witnesses. It's as if they were never here."
Manish looked up, tears streaming down his face. "Please, Inspector. I know this sounds crazy. But I swear to you, they existed. They were real."
Pradhan leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "I want to help you, Manish. Truly. But I can't just take your word for it. We need evidence. Have you considered that your mind may be playing tricks on you?" Pradhan asked softly, his eyes searching Manish's face.
Manish looked up sharply, his eyes widening in disbelief. "What the fuck are you insinuating?" he snapped, his voice shaking with anger.
Pradhan held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "I'm not saying that you're making this up, Manish. But I'm also not ruling out the possibility of false memories. Trauma can do strange things to the mind. Maybe you had a traumatic experience and your mind replaced it with the kidnapping you witnessed. I don't know. I am not a medical professional. I am just asking if you have considered it. I can refer you to a dear friend, who is a doctor if you want. It's certainly an avenue worth exploring, even to rule it out, don't you think?"
Pradhan asked, his voice gentle, concern and empathy in his tone.
Manish took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He knew Pradhan was just doing his job, trying to help him. But the suggestion that he was imagining all this, that his mind was playing tricks on him, infuriated him.
"Look, Inspector, I appreciate your help. But I know what I saw, what I experienced. I'm not making this up. I'm not crazy," Manish said, his voice still shaking with emotion.
Pradhan nodded, understanding the frustration. "I know, Manish. Just humor me though please and see my friend. It's a humble request." Manish could see that Pradhan was genuinely concerned for him. He sighed, stood up, and brushed off his pants. "Fine, I'll see your friend. But don't expect me to change my mind about what I know to be true. You will see, your friend will tell you I am telling the truth."
Pradhan smiled and shook his hand. "Thank you Manish."
---
Dr. Hakim was a kindly old man with a soft-spoken demeanor and a warm smile. He listened to Manish's story with keen interest, his eyes never leaving Manish's face.
When Manish finished, Dr. Hakim leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of his face.
"Manish, your story is indeed quite compelling," he said. "But I must say, it's also quite extraordinary. The human mind is a complex thing, and trauma can often lead to false memories or even hallucinations. I'm not saying that's what's happening here, but it's something we need to consider."
Manish's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. "I'm not crazy, Doctor. I know what I saw, what I experienced."
"I get that. But we can't just find answers in one consultation. I wish it were so simple. Would you mind coming back here in a couple days? No charge. I am intrigued and want to get to the bottom of this. Besides, Pradhan and I go way back. Knowing him, he wants answers too and won't rest till he finds them." Manish nodded, "Okay, I'll come back."
Dr. Hakim smiled. "Good. Now, just to rule out any physical ailment, I'd like to perform a few tests. Nothing invasive or painful. Just a few basic checks."
Manish agreed and Dr. Hakim stepped out to fetch the equipment. Manish sat in the office chair, his mind racing.