Sometimes it's as easy as giving up.

****

Now that Maya knew for sure about the Das being vampires, she had to dig up their other nauseating secrets. The unfortunate women of the Das family, Khirodh and Mrinmoyee, didn't have anything good to talk about their men, and the reluctant half-member of the household, Piya, was equally bitter about the brothers. Although, she kept quiet about Mrinjay. The fact that Piya could easily trust Maya with her degrading words about the late Abhinoy and the surviving Manihar was surprising, given that she didn't speak a word against the oldest son.

"Something makes Piya feel threatened about Mrinjay. Or else she wouldn't have deliberately dodged it."

Nowadays when Maya walked around the village, people would stop to turn and look at her. She felt being watched, being studied as a unique case. Very few dared to match their gaze with her when she looked up at them, while a few men had the courage to smile. It was a faltering one, hiding a trail of cavities or broken teeth behind.

"Everyone is aware of me being the detective. I will have to be careful, because many may not want to give in details, out of fear or personal motives."

She already faced it when trying to find out about the female victims. It was strange, too strange that the Das didn't care about the vanishing innocent lives of harmless girls. They were focused on the death of their son. Some would call it deep mourning, but the first sinister death in this village was of a girl. The Das never tried contacting Maya to investigate the murders of females. Was it just their belief that women were inferior which caused them to overlook the case?

Or are they killing the girls?

The fact that the style of murder in both cases, Abhinoy and the girls, were eerily similar, convinced Maya that she wasn't that far from the end. Maybe half of the road she had traversed.

Yet, something told her it wasn't so simple. Some answers were indeed in front of her eyes, and yet the rest clouded her judgement. Simplicity or complexity, she would get to know soon.

The words of Benoy Das rang in her ears. They can kill their own.

But why?

In the distance, she saw a familiar looking human. Searching her memories, she recognised this girl being the daughter of the head priest, with whom Mrinjay was talking that day in the temple. She balanced a pot of water on her head and entered her hut. Maya followed her. After waiting for some time, she called out from outside. "Is anyone in there?"

The girl came out and opened the door. "Who are you?"

"I am Maya. Your father knows me."

Her eyes glimmered. "I see... You are the detective..."

"So you have heard about me?"

"Everyone in the village knows about you. You have spread like fire. Come in, I am glad to welcome you." Before Maya could say anything, the girl pulled her by the hand and took her towards the khatia. "Sit here. Do you want something to drink? Maybe some sattu? I can make a great one with spices and lemon."

"Ah, sure!"

All smiles and glittery in her feline eyes, the girl went to the kitchen. Maya grinned. This daughter looked feisty and zestful. The way her curls bounced and the restless chime of her anklets showed she was happy to host Maya.

"Who has come at this hour? It's late afternoon," Ramlal shouted from inside another room, probably the place where he had built a little abode for the gods in his home. "I heard you are making sattu. Give me some too. I am feeling hungry." The priest came out with incense in his hands and moved it in each corner of the house. That's when his eyes locked with Maya.

In an instant, his face ashened like an etiolated leaf. He forgot to breathe, his lungs burning out in mere seconds. The smoke from the incense caused him to cough. His daughter came running from the kitchen with two drinks in her hand. "Baba, you shouldn't light incense if it makes it tough for you to breathe. I will do it from tomorrow." She snatched away the incense holder from his hand and handed him the drink. After giving the other drink to Maya, she completed the ritual purification of the hut.

Ramlal came and stood near Maya. "May I help you with something?"

His daughter came and stood with them, carrying that effortlessly artless smile on her naive face.

"Your daughter seems happy to have me here, but you don't."

The girl turned taut as a stretched rope at its highest endurance power. She looked at her father with somewhat of an anger. His brows furrowed. "It should be obvious," he said. "You being here pulls me into the case too. I don't want to be involved in here."

"The bodies of the girls lay outside your temple."

"It's not my temple. It belongs to the Das. I am merely a servant."

"But if you aren't guilty you shouldn't be afraid of her being here," the girl jibed.

"Quiet!" Ramlal raised his hand. The girl flinched, but her stare was still as sharp as the edge of a knife.

"She is right, Ramlal. You shouldn't be having a problem with me being here. I haven't even asked questions."

"First of all, you are here to ask me questions, I know that. And I promise to answer as much as I can, but what you don't understand is this– I have a daughter. I am worried about her safety."

"From Mrinjay Babu?" The words slipped Maya's lips.

Ramlal winced, shutting his eyes closed. "They are my masters. They do not want you to mingle in the deaths of the girls. If they know you have come to me, they might be hostile."

"Why is it that they don't care about the girls?"

"They don't even care about their own women. Why in the big bloody world would they be merciful towards some unrelated souls? They see us females as a different species altogether."

Maya wanted to say that they were indeed a different species altogether, but chugged down the words. "I think your daughter is braver than you."

"It's not bravery. It's foolishness."

"What you are doing is cowardice," the girl hissed.

Ramlal fumed like a bull. "Do not talk to your father like this."

"Baba, you are creating a scene."

"Calm down, calm down," Maya said, coming in between the father and daughter. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Mohini is my name."

"Mohini, I am very proud that you are so mettlesome. I admire your indomitable spirit. However, I am still a stranger, so do not speak to Baba like that in front of me. He is not right I know, but he is worried about you."

"And she doesn't get it!"

Mohini heaved a sigh. "He is afraid of the Das. They are not good people. You already know this from Baba's behaviour. He need not even say the things!"

"You don't get it, my dear. It's just the two of us. We need to stay away from the blood and gore. No one is going to protect us."

"I thought you had your belief on Chandrasekhara," Maya said with a smirk. "You have a good name for the mystery human."

"It's the name of Shiva."

"I suppose it's more than that."

"Whatever you may think." The beads of perspiration on his forehead gave away his uncomfort. "I don't care what happens to me. But as a father, I am too overwrought to believe that one is enough to save my daughter. I just cannot trust anyone with that, sometimes not even any god. I am ready to give up the rights of my life to divinity, but not of my daughter so easily."

"I thought you were hungry. Have the sattu," Mohini retorted.

Ramlal gave up on it. Thinking, hoping hard that his daughter wouldn't open her mouth again, he began drinking the sattu.

However, he was wrong.

"You know what, you should stop investigating the death of Abhinoy Das."

Ramlal almost spat his drink. Maya raised a brow, amused at how similar her words sounded with that of Raktim. Before Ramlal could stop his child, she began vomiting it all.

"Oh, I have waited for this day to come. Baba, go to another room if you feel ill at ease, because I am going to tell her all I can." Mohini sat beside Maya. "You see, Abhinoy was a man of the dirty past. He believed in the sati ritual and what not! He was the worst of the four men of that house, always demeaning women. And Manihar, he is the brat! He goes around teasing girls and often touches them in bad humour. You know he even made poor Piya marry Ram! Piya was supposed to go back to her maternal uncle in Bihar but she was forcefully married to Ram. And Manihar once even killed a girl because she got pregnant by him! And–"

"Stop, just stop! Ah–" The glass of sattu fell from Ramlal's hand. He clutched his chest and slided down the wall, sitting with a distant bleary-eyed look. The muscles in his face twitched and he began shrinking away. 

"I told him to go to another room!" Mohini smacked her head. "Let me call the doctor. Maya, please watch him!"

Maya immediately got to work. She wiped his mouth and made him sip some water. "Take deep breaths," she said. "Everything will be fine."

"Ah... " Tears ran down his face. He whimpered like a child. And then, he lost consciousness.

Maya sat there waiting for the doctor to come, often wondering in between moments if she was to be blamed for this.

****

While Raktim checked on the poor old man, Maya had gulped down the sattu. Mohini would often tear up a little, and then curse the gods for making her father such a soft-hearted person.

Finally, Raktim spoke, "He panicked and his emotions stirred up. I have given him some medicines. He will get back his consciousness within some hours."

It was already sunset. Maya was overcome with guilt and vowed to not leave before Ramlal was awake.

"You again fought with your Baba?" Raktim asked.

Mohini moaned. "I didn't want to! He-he is just too stressed. I wanted to help the detective with information."

"And your Baba thought you were saying too much, and it gave his heart a blow."

"I am sorry," Maya said. "I won't–"

"No!" Mohini interrupted. "It's your duty to get to the root of the problem. I am finally happy someone is worried about us women and wants to give us justice. Sitting back won't give us anything good. So, thank you. And I guess, in case you need to talk to me again someday, call me outside."

"He has weak nerves," Raktim said. "But I am happy, Maya. It is nice to know that someone is willing to protect the girls."

"I-I..." Maya found it hard to find words. "I am sorry still for whatever has happened, and yes, I will do something about the murders."

"That Abhinoy was a jinxed man! I don't care he died. Who knows, maybe his own brothers killed him because he was a favourite. Kalikacharan Babu was too fond of Abhinoy."

More than Raktim? Or less? Maya silently heard all theories.

"I think she is right," Raktim said. "They have their own power struggles. Alright, I am leaving. And Mohini, don't trouble your Baba. He is getting old. And go find a suitor for yourself."

"I won't marry."

Raktim laughed. He patted her head. "You will have to one day, little one. Take care of your Baba. Call me if you need."

Mohini produced some coins and poured it in his palms. Raktim pinched her nose. "I am only taking this because Maya is around, or else she may think I go around treating people for free all the time."

"Would you treat me for free?" Maya asked in jest.

Raktim was flustered. "Err, yes. Why-why not."

"That wasn't a very positive response."

"No! It-it just sounded a bit weird." Raktim shuffled his feet. Mohini's eyes widened, having caught the severe blush on his face. Raktim walked out of the house.

"Let me just see him away," Maya said. She followed him out. He turned back to see her, and as a consequence, tripped on a stone. Maya gasped and ran towards him. "Are you okay?"

He got up and dusted his clothes. "So tall and big, and yet I am clumsy. This is embarrassing."

"Well, it happens. Cherish it as a good memory."

Raktim's toothy grin lightened Maya akin to a feather. He looked so warm and friendly when he was happy, contrasting his otherwise awkward and grim personality.

"Uh, goodbye?"

Maya jerked out of her thoughts. Was I just staring at him? Impolite. Stupid. "Ah, yes. Goodbye. Don't fall a second time."

"Surely not unless it's as good as this." He left with a merry aura.

Maya was extremely enthralled by this man. He was a specimen perfect for study. As much as mystery was the mistress of the Das household's men, it was also a companion of this healer man.

"Perhaps I can know you better," Maya hummed.