Ruban propped his feet up on the coffee table, tiredly carding his fingers through his hair. Several files were strewn across the sofa, the majority stacked haphazardly between him and Simani.

It’d only been a couple of hours since they tucked Sri and Hiya in for the night. But Ruban had had a long day, and was already eager to follow them into dreamland.

Across the coffee table, Vikram and Ashwin discussed something under their breaths. Both of them were bent over Vikram’s tablet, their eyes glued to the screen. Speaking quickly, Vik flicked through what looked to be a set of photographs. Not that Ruban could make out what any of the pictures depicted.

“Care to share with the class?” Somehow, Ruban’s voice came out louder than he’d intended.

Ashwin flinched. It was a whisper of a motion, lost in the blink of an eye.

Ruban shook his head, trying to dislodge the inexplicable feeling of unease that’d suddenly permeated him. “What’re the two of you mumbling about?” he demanded irritably.

Vikram looked up. Behind the thick spectacles, his eyes held a mix of thrill and apprehension. “Kushal Mayiti,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s the link we were missing, all this time.”

“Kushal…what?” Ruban wracked his brains, trying to place that familiar-sounding name. “You mean, the owner of WNN? He wasn’t at the meeting, I’m sure of it.”

“What’s he got to do with anything?” Simani’s voice was laced with puzzlement.

“He recently joined the board of the Savana Bank,” Ashwin said. “Less than three months ago.”

Simani’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. She grabbed her phone from the coffee table and began tapping away. “It was apparently big news in business circles.” She exhaled sharply, after a couple of minutes. “With everything that’s been going on, I’m not surprised we missed it.”

Ruban looked from Simani to Ashwin, trying and failing to suppress a gigantic yawn. “Be more direct, will you? I’m too exhausted for subtlety.”

“The government, the media, the banks – it’s all in their pocket.” Vikram quoted the words Siyal had spouted that very morning. “Isn’t that what the lieutenant told you? Well, Kushal Mayiti owns WNN, one of the biggest media companies in the country. And now he’s on the board of one of our top five banks.”

“He still doesn’t control any part of the government. At least not directly,” Ruban pointed out. “And even if he did, why’d he target Simani, anyway? He may not like the idea of the alliance with Vaan. Most people don’t. But that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s capable of murder. And how could he possibly have any influence over the deployment of Hunting teams?

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Whoever planned the attack on Simani had to have insider knowledge. A fundamental understanding of how the Hunter Corps functions. There’s no way some random media mogul could’ve pulled it off.”

Vikram and Ashwin looked at each other, before once again turning to face Ruban.

“No?” Vikram sounded slightly amused. “Not even if the senior secretary of defence happened to be his daughter?”

“The senior—” Ruban stopped talking abruptly, trying to process Vikram’s words. “But that’s…Dhriti Pathak. She’s his…” He cocked his head, trying to recall what he knew about the woman. “But that can’t be right. She’s an orphan, I know that for a fact. Both of Dhriti’s parents died in a plane crash decades ago, when she was a child. I researched her background last year.” He cleared his throat. “Back when we were trying to find Ashwin.”

Vikram nodded. “And what happened to her after that? After her parents died? She was only seven or eight years old at the time, if I’m not mistaken.”

Ruban shrugged. “What usually happens in these situations. She was probably raised by some relative or the other. I didn’t look too deeply into it. I had more important things to worry about than her life story.”

Vikram smiled mirthlessly. “Well, she was raised by a relative. Of a kind. Kushal Mayiti was Dhriti’s…” He thought for a few seconds. “Step father? I suppose that’s what you’d call it. He was her mother’s first husband.”

Simani sat forward, her curiosity piqued. “And her own father? He was the second husband, I’m guessing?”

“In a way. To be frank, I couldn’t find any proof that Dhriti’s mother had ever legally divorced her first husband. Her name was Lata. She’d married Kushal when they were both still in college. A few months later, they had a son, Tej Mayiti.” Vikram removed his spectacles and cleaned them meticulously, before putting them back on. “That’s where the trouble began. Tej was…well, he had some developmental issues. Some kind of intellectual disability, from what information I’ve been able to glean. Although it’s hard to figure out what exactly it was, since Kushal’s known to be extremely protective of his son. Even now, almost no information about him is publicly available.”

“The son must be middle-aged, by this point.” Ruban mused.

“Well, he’s five years older than Dhriti,” Vikram said. “Less than two years after Tej was born, Lata abandoned her husband and son. She married Ravi Pathak – Dhriti’s biological father. Although that wedding may not have been legally valid. Anyway, a few years later the two of them had a daughter.”

“That’d be Dhriti?” Ruban surmised, feeling the vague stirrings of interest in the back of his mind. Gossip did have a strange way of drawing you in, even when it concerned people you knew nothing about.

Vikram nodded. “Everything I’ve learned about the case in the past few hours suggests that Lata cut off all contact with Kushal and her son after her second marriage. Kushal was essentially left to raise the boy all by himself.”

Simani unfolded her limbs in a leisurely stretch – her movements slow and careful – dispelling the stiffness that came from hours sitting in the same position. “I’m sure that was hard for him,” she said, not unkindly. “But what does that have to do with our current situation?”

“And, more importantly…” Ruban strove, unsuccessfully, to disguise his interest. “Why’d you call Dhriti his daughter?”

Vikram exchanged another glance with Ashwin, before handing his tablet over to Ruban. “Check out these photos. They’re from a private archive, protected by multiple layers of security. I had to call in several favors to gain access to them, so you better show some appreciation.”