Chapter 2: Aryan Enters the Scene

The crime scene was still buzzing with forensic analysts when Detective Aryan Nagtilak stepped back into the penthouse. The air inside was unnervingly cold, but the tension was colder. He could feel the weight of unseen eyes, though the only people present were law enforcement.

Renu glanced up from her notepad. "Anything?"

Aryan shook his head. He wasn't ready to tell her about the masked figure just yet. "Nothing useful."

She studied him. "You ran off in a hurry. What did you see?"

Aryan hesitated, then looked at the crime scene again. The corpse of Rajat Khanna still sat in the chair, eerily untouched, as if frozen in time. His lifeless eyes stared blankly ahead.

Instead of answering Renu's question, Aryan pulled on a pair of gloves and crouched beside the body.

"Let's go over this again."

The Locked-Room Enigma

"No forced entry," Renu recited. "The doors were locked from the inside. The security footage only shows Rajat entering. No one else. Not even leaving."

Aryan frowned. "And yet, he's dead."

He inspected Rajat's posture. A little too perfect. His arms rested on the armrests as though he had placed them there himself. Even in death, there was no sign of struggle. No defensive wounds.

It wasn't natural.

Renu held up the toxicology report. "Unknown poison. Instant death. No injection marks."

Aryan clicked his tongue. "So how the hell did it get into his system?"

Renu gestured toward the untouched glass of whiskey. "My guess? Ingestion."

Aryan took a closer look at the whiskey. Something wasn't right. The liquid had a faint shimmer—a sign of tampering. He pulled out a forensic swab and dipped it into the drink.

A few seconds later, the color indicator turned black.

Poison.

But if it was poison, why hadn't Rajat shown any signs of struggle? Why did he just… sit there?

Something didn't add up.

The Phone Call That Shouldn't Exist

Renu's phone buzzed. "Got Rajat's phone records." She scanned the data, then suddenly stiffened.

"What?" Aryan asked.

Her voice dropped. "His last call was at 11:47 PM."

Aryan frowned. "That's impossible. The coroner estimated the time of death at 10:30 PM."

"Exactly." Renu turned the screen toward him. "Someone used his phone over an hour after he died."

Aryan took the phone, his mind racing. "Who was he calling?"

"His assistant. The call lasted forty-five seconds."

Aryan's eyes narrowed. "Get me a transcript."

Renu nodded and made the request.

Meanwhile, Aryan walked toward the penthouse's smart home control panel. If someone had accessed Rajat's phone, they might have also used his Wi-Fi, security system, or voice command logs.

He pulled out his tablet and tapped into the system. His fingers moved quickly, searching for anomalies.

And then—there it was.

A voice command registered at 11:50 PM. Three words.

"Erase the evidence."

The Missing Footage

Aryan's pulse quickened. He accessed the security cameras, skimming through the footage for 11:50 PM.

Nothing.

The entire segment between 11:45 and 11:55 PM was gone.

Someone had manually erased it.

"Renu." Aryan's voice was cold. "Someone was in this apartment after Rajat was already dead."

Renu exhaled sharply. "So we're not dealing with just a killer. We're dealing with someone who knew exactly how to cover their tracks."

Aryan clenched his jaw. This was no ordinary murder. Someone had planned this with surgical precision.

And the worst part?

They were still ahead of him.

The Shadow in the System

Minutes later, the transcript of Rajat's final call came in.

Aryan read through it carefully.

Rajat (11:47 PM): "…He's here."

Assistant (confused): "Sir? Who?"

Rajat: "The detective. But he isn't… He isn't real."

Assistant: "What? Sir, are you okay?"

Rajat (whispers): "I made a mistake."

Then the call abruptly ended.

Aryan felt the hairs on his neck rise.

Rajat had seen someone before he died. Someone he mistook for Aryan.

And then he had been silenced.

Renu looked at Aryan, her expression grim. "Who the hell are we dealing with?"

Aryan clenched his fists.

"I don't know yet," he muttered. "But they know me."

Final Clue: The Bloodstained Chess Piece

Just as Aryan was about to leave the penthouse, something caught his eye.

Tucked neatly beneath Rajat's chair, barely visible—a small chess piece.

A black knight.

It was smeared with fresh blood.

Aryan picked it up, his mind racing.

A calling card. A challenge. A message.

The game had just begun.