• Crime - English

    The Listener

    August 14, 2025 - By 

    Devraj Sinha Part 1 — The Echo in the Dark The gallery stood like a lone lantern in the sleeping street, its glass façade throwing pale squares of light onto wet cobblestones. Midnight rain had just stopped, leaving the air sharp with that metallic scent London kept after a downpour. Lena Brooks had been watching the place for an hour, hood drawn low, hands in her jacket pocket, the spray can warm against her palm. She’d chosen this night carefully. No security guard on the roster—she’d checked the rota online—and the CCTV camera above the side alley had been broken…

  • Crime - English - Suspense

    The Quiet Exit

    July 4, 2025 - By 

    Ananya D’Souza Part 1 — The Locked Flat The rain had fallen hard the night before, and the grey morning light was doing little to scrub the city clean. Mumbai was damp, impatient, and hungover. Detective Inspector Reeva Kale lit her third cigarette of the morning as she stepped out of her beat-up white Mahindra Thar, ignoring the security guard trying to catch her attention. She hated apartment towers—too many floors, too many alibis. This one was worse: a posh building in Andheri West with glass balconies and silent lifts. Too clean to be honest. The call had come at…

  • Crime - English

    The Last Wave at Palolem

    June 15, 2025 - By 

    Vivaan Sharma The Body on the Shore The waves crashed softly against the rocks, their rhythm almost meditative under the hazy early morning sun. Palolem Beach was just beginning to wake—fishermen pulling in their nets, yoga teachers arranging mats on the sand, tourists stretching and sipping on bitter black coffee from the shacks. And then the scream. It sliced through the humid air like a blade. A local boy had found her—curled on her side near the rocky edge of the shore, half-buried in sand, her hair tangled with seaweed. At first glance, it looked like she had been sleeping.…

  • English - Suspense

    The Dockside Cipher

    June 14, 2025 - By 

    Rohan Mehta Part 1  The rains had returned to Mumbai like an old enemy. Not with the promise of relief, but the murky stench of trouble. It was just past midnight when Inspector Alisha Ranade pulled up in her rain-splashed black Bolero outside the abandoned Crawford Mills compound. Her phone buzzed again—a message from headquarters: “Body found. Possibly political.” She hated those two words. In her experience, “possibly political” meant either someone too powerful was involved or someone too disposable had been silenced. The scene was taped off by a lone constable who looked more scared than soaked. “Inside,” he…