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/Sometimes, we feel we are good being what we are. And also feel that if we stay like this for the rest of our lives, we will make out the best. But, life doesn't go that way/

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The main crossroad of Nekpura was crowded again today. It wasn't market day or a big festival. It was because a businessman's body lay in front of the statue of the Father of the Nation. Some people seemed shocked, but this wasn't new; just two days ago, the body of Ramprasad, the principal of Ashokrao College, had been found in the same spot.

Inspector Shaaney and Godbole stood over the body, their faces tense. Kantilal's eyes were wide open, his face frozen in a look of terror that petrified those who looked. Even Inspector Shaaney felt a moment of fear. Kantilal's forehead was marked with the name "Mogambo," and a bullet hole was right through the letter 'O'. Sub-Inspector Tiwari, the youngest in the group, searched around the body and found a letter in the top pocket. It looked just like the one they found last Sunday. Tiwari handed it to Godbole, who opened it and saw it was filled with accusations of crimes linked to Kantilal. He let out a long sigh.

Shaaney took a step to his right. "This guy's a complete nutcase," he muttered. Godbole gave a slight smile but said nothing. He wasn't just thinking about the murders or Mogambo. He was wondering how these crimes had gone unnoticed for so long. Something didn't add up.An ambulance siren blared. Two young men in white uniforms jumped out with a stretcher. They placed it next to Kantilal's body and carefully lifted him onto it. Godbole watched Kantilal's lifeless eyes until a blanket covered him completely. The ambulance doors slammed shut, and it drove off, the siren fading away.

"What now?" Tiwari asked.

"We go talk to their families," Shaaney said.

"Whose families?" asked Shinde, another young sub-inspector who had just arrived.

"Ramprasad's and Kantilal's," Shaaney replied without hesitation.

Godbole checked his watch. It was 9:15 a.m. He led them to a small tea stall nearby.

"Four cups, please," he told the stall owner.

"Right away, sir," the owner replied.Godbole took a deep breath. "We don't even know who this Mogambo is. Could be a guy, a woman, or even a group," he said. The stall owner handed over the cups. Shinde took them and passed them around.

Shaaney sipped his tea, thinking. "And sir, don't forget—on Sunday, five other people were found dead. They were linked to Ramprasad. I doubt one person did all this. Maybe it's a whole group that calls themselves Mogambo," he suggested.

Godbole nodded slowly. "Maybe."

Across from them, a tall man sat at a small table, watching the police closely. Two other men were with him—one looked about twenty-five, the other closer to forty. The tall man picked up his tea and took a sip. The two men did the same.

"What do you see?" the tall man called out, loud enough for the police to hear.

The men with him stayed quiet, just looking at him. He took another sip, and so did they.

"You see that? Cops who should be working, standing around like they've got nothing better to do," the tall man mocked, a sly grin on his face.

Shaaney heard it, his jaw tightening, but he stayed still. Godbole seemed lost in thought. Tiwari and Shinde were watching the crowd at the bus stop. People were murmuring, and when a bus pulled up, the conductor rang the bell, and half the crowd got on.

"Useless, all of them," the tall man sneered again, louder this time. "Standing around, sipping tea while someone else does their job."

This time, Shaaney couldn't ignore it. He strode over to the tall man and grabbed his collar. "Think you're smart, huh?" Shaaney snapped. "We know what we're doing, and we don't need advice from some joker on the street!"

Godbole rushed over, pulling Shaaney back. "Leave it, Shaaney. Don't make a scene."

Shaaney let go, his chest heaving. The tall man's smile never left his face as he stood, looking Shaaney in the eyes. Then they left. While the policemen looked them go.

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