Episode 1

HEY EVERYONE ITS MY FIRST NOVEL THE STORYLINE IS COMPLETELY MINE DO NOT REPORT PLEASE ITS MY HARDWORK

Death at Midnight

Episode 1: The Deadly Hour

The town of Vasantpur had always been quiet at night. The streets emptied by ten, the markets shut down, and the only sounds were the occasional barking of stray dogs or the distant whistle of a train passing through. But on this particular night, as the clock struck twelve, a scream shattered the silence.

Inspector Aryan Mehta was halfway through his late-night tea when his phone buzzed. He picked it up lazily, expecting another petty complaint—maybe a drunkard causing trouble or a lost pet. But the urgency in the caller’s voice made him sit up straight.

"Sir, there’s been a murder. Karan Malhotra… he’s dead."

Aryan felt a chill crawl down his spine. Karan Malhotra was one of the wealthiest men in town, a businessman with power, influence, and—if rumors were to be believed—a long list of enemies.

The Crime Scene

Fifteen minutes later, Aryan pulled up in front of the Malhotra mansion. The grand white bungalow stood under the moonlight, its towering iron gates wide open. A small crowd had already gathered outside, whispering among themselves. Some of them stepped aside as Aryan walked in, nodding respectfully.

Inside, the air was thick with tension. The body of Karan Malhotra lay slumped in his massive leather chair inside his study. His face was frozen in a grimace of pain, his right hand clutching at his chest as if trying to fight off death itself. There were no visible wounds, no blood—just the lifeless body of a powerful man who had seemingly died out of nowhere.

Aryan scanned the room carefully. The study was lavish, with dark oak bookshelves lining the walls, a massive wooden desk, and a fireplace that had long burned out. A half-empty glass of whiskey sat on the desk, next to a cigar that had burned itself out in the ashtray. The large window behind the chair was closed, and the only door to the room was locked from the inside.

A classic locked-room mystery.

"Who found him?" Aryan asked, his voice calm but firm.

A woman stepped forward, her eyes swollen from crying. It was Anjali Malhotra—Karan’s wife. She was dressed in a silk nightgown, her hands trembling as she wiped away tears.

"I… I did," she whispered. "I woke up and realized Karan hadn’t come to bed. I came to check on him, but the door was locked. I knocked… no response. So I called the servants. They broke the door open and—" Her voice cracked.

Aryan studied her carefully. Her grief seemed genuine, but he knew better than to trust first impressions.

Suspects in the Shadows

He turned to the servants, who stood nearby in silence. Among them was Mohan, the old butler who had served the Malhotra family for years. His face was pale, his hands shaking slightly.

"You broke the door?" Aryan asked.

"Yes, sir," Mohan nodded. "We had to. Madam was panicking, and when we finally got in…" He glanced at Karan’s body and shuddered. "He was already gone."

Aryan turned back to the door. The lock was indeed broken, but from the outside. That meant it had been locked from the inside before the door was forced open.

"Did anyone else hear anything unusual before the scream?" he asked, scanning the room.

The servants exchanged nervous glances before one of them spoke. "Sir, I… I thought I heard something around 11:50. A thud. Like something falling."

Aryan frowned. "And you didn’t check?"

"We didn’t think much of it, sir. Mr. Malhotra often stayed up late, working in his study."

He made a mental note of the time—11:50 PM. That was roughly when the murder had happened. But how?

A Man With Enemies

Karan Malhotra was not a man without enemies. He had built his empire through ruthless business tactics, crushing competitors and making powerful foes along the way. Aryan knew he had to look beyond the grieving widow and terrified servants.

He turned to Anjali. "Did your husband have any recent disputes?"

She hesitated, then nodded. "Yes… there was a business deal that went sour. A man named Rajveer Chauhan—he threatened Karan a few days ago."

"Threatened how?"

"He said Karan would pay for what he did. That he wouldn’t live to see the end of the month."

Aryan’s eyes narrowed. A direct threat. A possible suspect. But threats were common in the world of business. He needed more than that.

"Anyone else?"

Anjali swallowed hard. "There’s… someone else. A woman. Her name is Meera."

Aryan raised an eyebrow. "Who is she?"

Anjali hesitated, then whispered, "His mistress."

The room fell silent.

The First Clue

Aryan turned back to the body. There had to be something he was missing. No forced entry. No visible wounds. A man dead in his chair as if death had simply knocked on his door.

He picked up the whiskey glass, swirling the liquid inside. Then he noticed something—a faint residue at the bottom of the glass. His experience told him what it might be.

Poison.

He straightened, his mind already working through the possibilities. If Karan had been poisoned, who had given him the drink? And why was the room locked from the inside?

One thing was certain—this was no ordinary death.

This was murder.

And it had all happened at midnight.

To Be Continued...

(Stay tuned for Episode 2: Shadows of the past where Aryan delves deeper into karan malhotra's enemies uncovering shocking secrets and unexpected twists)

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