THE KOLKATA SHADOWS | Chapter 2: Ghosts from Presidency

THE KOLKATA SHADOWS | Chapter 2: Ghosts from Presidency

The rain had softened to a persistent drizzle by the time Vikram left the Sengupta mansion at nearly midnight. His clothes clung to him with that peculiar dampness that Kolkata monsoons specialized in—not quite wet, not quite dry, just uncomfortably moist. He sat in the jeep's passenger seat, staring at the photocopy of the old photograph that Priya had made for him before the original was sealed in evidence. Four young men, barely out of their teens, arms slung around each other with the easy camaraderie of close friends. Their smiles were genuine, unguarded—the kind of expressions people wore before life taught them to be careful. Behind them, partially obscured but unmistakable, stood the old Presidency University hostel with its distinctive colonial architecture. One of those men was now his boss. Another lay dead in a mansion in Alipore with a khukuri through his heart. "Where to, sir?" Rohit asked from the driver's seat, wiping condensation from the windshield. &qu…