• Crime - English

    The Last Local

    Arjun Mehta Chapter 1 – The Final Departure The storm came in without warning, the kind of Mumbai monsoon that split the city into islands of survival. Streets drowned, taxis stalled like dying fish, and yet the lifeline of the city—the suburban trains—kept moving, dragging weary commuters through sheets of rain. At Churchgate station, the loudspeaker was already crackling about delays, though no one really listened. People had learned to treat delays like background noise, like the endless vendors selling umbrellas at triple their price. But on that night, when the rain lashed glass windows and lightning turned the platforms…

  • Crime - English

    Highway 44

    Asit Rana Chapter 1 – The Disappearing Drivers The first whispers began as roadside gossip, exchanged over steaming cups of chai at dhabas dotting the endless stretch of National Highway 44. A driver from Punjab was said to have vanished in the dead of night, leaving behind a truck still humming on the shoulder of the road, headlights flooding an empty stretch of asphalt. Within days, another truck was found in similar fashion near Nagpur — its cabin door swinging in the wind, the driver nowhere in sight. Soon, the pattern became undeniable. Drivers who set out with their consignments…

  • Crime - English

    Blood Moon over Varanasi

    Punam Sharma 1 The night over Varanasi shimmered with an eerie luminescence as the blood moon climbed steadily above the Ganga, bathing the ancient ghats in a copper-red glow. The river, usually alive with chants, bells, and the flicker of oil lamps, seemed to hold its breath, its surface glinting like molten brass. Amid this uneasy stillness, a young boatman named Ravi rowed silently across the slow-moving waters, his oar slicing through the moonlit current. He had ferried pilgrims across these sacred waters countless times, but tonight felt different—thicker, heavier. As he neared Dashashwamedh Ghat, a dark silhouette caught the…

  • Crime - English

    The Widow’s Ledger

    Tanima Basak Chapter 1 – Tide at Dusk The sea was already pulling back when Inspector Arjun Sen reached Chandipur. It was late evening, and the tide had begun its quiet retreat across the flat beach, leaving behind long glistening stretches of sand that shone like dark mirrors in the fading light. Fishing nets lay sprawled across wooden boats like the skins of dead creatures, their salt-stiff ropes twisting under the weak lanterns that dotted the shore. A smell of brine and rotting kelp hung in the air, sharp enough to make his throat sting. The police jeep jolted over…

  • Crime - English

    Ghats of Blood

    Nilavo Mukherjee Chapter 1 – The Floating Corpse The story begins on a humid, early morning along the Hooghly River, where the tranquility of the water is shattered by the appearance of a lifeless body drifting near the base of the Howrah Bridge. Early commuters and street vendors are the first to spot the corpse, their casual chatter giving way to murmurs of fear and curiosity as they approach the ghats. The scene quickly draws a crowd, and within minutes, news crews arrive, cameras rolling and microphones thrust forward to capture the unfolding spectacle. Panic ripples through onlookers, some recoiling…

  • Crime - English

    The Hooghly Shadow

    Drishan Nnaskar 1 The dawn broke over Kolkata with a muted hush, as though the city itself was reluctant to wake. From the eastern bank of the Hooghly, the mist still clung to the river like an old, grey shawl, and the metallic silhouette of Howrah Bridge loomed above, carrying the rumble of early trams and the shuffle of weary commuters. Fishermen pushed out their boats, calling softly to one another, while stray dogs barked at the rising sun. It was one of these fishermen who first saw the shape drifting in the water, just below the shadow of the…

  • Crime - English

    Mumbai Undercover

    Rabi Kumar Prasad Chapter 1 – The Assignment Mumbai never slept, and Inspector Arjun Mehra knew that better than most. The city’s pulse throbbed through the neon-lit streets, its chaos both maddening and alive, and at the center of it all, he stood like a solitary soldier fighting an endless war. Arjun was known as one of the most relentless cops in the Anti-Narcotics Cell, but years of watching criminals slip through the cracks had left him hardened, skeptical, and restless. He had seen gangsters walk free with the blessing of politicians, officers paid to look the other way, and…

  • Crime - English

    Ballygunge 76

    The night Anwesha Sen vanished began like so many ordinary evenings in Kolkata’s monsoon season, with laughter echoing from cafés, headlights streaking down rain-slicked roads, and young voices carrying on late into the night. At seventeen, Anwesha was at that tender age balanced between recklessness and restraint, a girl whose smile disarmed her strict schoolteachers and whose confident stride often made her friends feel she was the leader of every outing. That night, she and her circle of friends drifted from a small café in Park Street to a club tucked into one of Ballygunge’s quieter lanes, a place where…

  • Crime - English

    Shadows in the Ledger

    Arjun Malhotra Part 1: The Body at Dalhousie Square The night had a stillness only Calcutta knew—humid, damp, and swollen with the weight of secrets. The yellow streetlamps around Dalhousie Square flickered, their cones of light glistening against cobblestones darkened by last evening’s rain. At precisely 2:17 a.m., the silence cracked: a night watchman’s whistle trailed off into a hoarse scream. By the time Sub-Inspector Rohan Mukherjee arrived, the scene was already swarming. A man lay face-down near the fountain, the back of his linen shirt soaked in blood. His right hand clutched a black leather briefcase, its lock broken…

  • Crime - English

    Blood on the Balance Sheet

    Rohan Sen Part 1 – The First Murder The night air in Mumbai carried its usual cocktail of sea salt, petrol fumes, and exhaustion. By the time Inspector Kabir Mehta arrived at the narrow lane in Fort, the neon lights had gone dim, the hawkers had packed their stalls, and the crowd had gathered in that restless half-circle that only death could command. The constable waved him in, parting the murmuring mass of onlookers. Kabir ducked under the yellow police tape, his eyes falling instantly on the sprawled figure inside the glass-fronted office. A man in his mid-forties, shirt stained…