Angie Get Your Goat 3

She is glad to be back above ground, walking in the airy, sunny corridor. As much as she likes smoking, Angie likes breathing fresh air too. It's a mark of freedom to her.

She tosses the butt of her cigarette into the trash, and walks to one of the large open windows. For a minute, she stands there, soaking in the sun.

Then she whips out her phone from another trouser pocket, and makes a call.

“Hey,” her partner, Aditya Pansare, speaks at the other end.

“Hey. He's fessed up, Adi. He has a farmhouse in Lonavala, and the rest of the bodies are buried there.”

“He sang so easily? No resistance, no manipulation, no mind games?” Aditya asked, sounding surprised.

“Nope. I didn't have to give him the psychic third degree. He readily wrote and signed a confession. Although I recorded him, just in case he decides to make a U-turn later on.”

The 'psychic third degree' is what Angie and her colleagues refer to, in jest, to a psychological method of interrogation, invented and perfected by Angie. No one can do it but she, and the most hardened seeming criminals have caved in to it.

“Great. That is also proof that he gave the confession of his own will, and not under duress. Without a single beating.”

This new type of third degree also has, in recent years, reduced the need for physical beatings, thereby sparing the force umpteen lawsuits from human rights activists, and improving their image.

“Yes. Now it's time to go find those missing women. Let's get the team and go.”

“Right. Get some coffee and sandwiches, will you, while I gather everyone else? It's gonna be a long day.”

“I will, and wait for you near the Qualis.”

Angie hangs up, and walks out of the precinct, to the cafe across the road, to get coffee and sandwiches.

Something Adi said is niggling at her, as it was before.

Why has Dr Fatal confessed so easily?

For years, he went undetected. According to the timeline Angie and Adi have made based on the evidence they currently have, the murders started before Angie joined the police force.

The murders have been covered well for nearly a decade- as violent as he is, Dr Fatal has been extra careful.

Then one day, it all falls apart. And the doctor doesn't even try to defend himself, confessing without being manipulated or coerced.

Well, less work for us, Angie thinks, as she crossed the road. Once the bodies will be found, the chargesheet will be filed, the Doctor's judicial custody extended, and in no time, the case will go to trial.

Finally, the women's families will get closure. The police will look good in front of the media.

And yet, Angie can't help the feeling that the picture in front of her is hazy. Something's out of focus, and she can't see it yet. The doctor’s farmhouse will hold all the answers.