Shadow Case: Vishal Chronicles

Shilpa sat cross-legged on the dusty floor of Vishal's office, her notebook open, eyes scanning lines she had written over the last few days. There were already too many arrows, circles, and question marks.

Vishal was lying on the couch upside-down — legs resting on the headrest, staring at the ceiling like it owed him answers.

"You know," Shilpa said, tapping her pen, "most detectives use whiteboards."

Vishal sighed. "Yeah, well, most whiteboards cost money. I, on the other hand, pay my rent in IOUs and mango pickles."

As if on cue, the landlord's voice boomed from below:

"Vishaaaal! This month's rent hasn't paid itself again!"

Vishal rolled off the couch, landed with a loud thud, and yelled back, "Manifesting wealth, sir! Let the universe cook!"

Shilpa chuckled. "You're unbelievable."

"And yet here you are. Voluntarily."

Back to business.

They'd listed out what they knew:

Raghunandan had collected evidence.He had a flash drive, meant for Vishal.Manek was nervous, hiding something.Rakesh had disappeared mysteriously.Vani, the calm school principal, had been in a fallout meeting that no one really talked about.

But the missing piece?

Why Vishal?

Shilpa finally asked it aloud. "Why you, Vishal? Why did he send the drive to you? He didn't know you personally."

Vishal rubbed his eyes. "I've been asking the same question. Only two people in the group were judges. Me and him. Except I never passed the exam."

He paused.

"Unless…" His voice trailed off.

Shilpa narrowed her eyes. "Unless?"

Vishal sat up straighter. "There's one case. Years ago. My first year as sub-inspector. I filed a report on a corporate scam — small thing, got buried fast. But the judge in that case? Raghunandan."

He got up and walked to a stack of old boxes under his table, rifling through them. Papers flew. One dead lizard fell out. Shilpa screamed and jumped to the couch.

"You need a maid," she muttered.

"No," Vishal said, holding up a faded folder. "I need a time machine."

They found it.

Case file: U.M. Industries vs Govt. of India.

Small-scale laundering case. Closed in two months. Evidence vanished.

Judge: Justice Raghunandan.

Filed by: SI Vishal Reddy.

"Why would he remember this?" Shilpa asked, reading the file.

"Because he read my report and wrote this," Vishal said, pulling out a handwritten note attached to the judgment.

"The sub-inspector on this case has a sharper sense of pattern than half my courtroom. Needs to be watched — for good reasons."

Shilpa looked stunned. "He noticed you."

Vishal leaned back in the chair. "So he remembered. Years later, when things got ugly... he sent me what he couldn't trust with anyone else."

A pause.

Then Shilpa said, "Okay. That's cool and all. But now what?"

"Now," Vishal said, "we meet the one person we've been circling but not confronting."

Shilpa blinked. "Who?"

He stood up, grabbed his coat.

"Rakesh's wife."