CHAPTER 20: "THE TRIAL BEGINS"
Six months later, the Patiala House District Court was a circus. News cameras crowded the entrance. Reporters jostled for position. Vikram Sharma's trial had become a national spectacle—the "Vigilante Engineer" case, they called it. Some portrayed him as a hero. Others as a monster. Most, as both.
Vikram sat in the defendant's box, dressed in a simple white shirt and grey trousers. He had lost weight in Tihar. His face was gaunt, his eyes hollow. Beside him sat Advocate Meera Kapoor, a sharp-eyed woman in her fifties with a reputation for dismantling prosecutors.
The prosecution was led by Additional Sessions Judge Anil Verma, a bulldog of a man who saw Vikram as a dangerous precedent. If ordinary citizens could kill criminals and claim self-defense, what would stop mob justice?
"The State calls its first witness," Verma announced. "Head Constable Ram Singh, Lajpat Nagar Police Station."
Ram Singh, the same guard who had warned Vikram about the gang's first visit, took the stand. He looked uncomfortable, avoiding Vikram's gaze.
"Constable Singh, can you describe the condition of the accused's home on the night of the incident?"
"It was... destroyed, sir. Furniture broken. Blood on the floor. Two men were injured—knife wounds, one with a gunshot. The accused was also injured."
"Did Mr. Sharma explain what happened?"
"He said ten men broke into his house and attacked him. He said he defended himself."
"And did you believe him?"
Ram Singh hesitated. "Yes, sir. The neighbors confirmed they saw multiple vehicles and armed men entering the building."
Verma frowned. This wasn't going the way he wanted. "But Mr. Sharma possessed an illegal firearm. He used lethal force. That is not self-defense—that is premeditated violence."
Meera Kapoor stood, her voice calm and precise. "Objection, Your Honor. Counsel is testifying instead of questioning."
"Sustained," the judge said, a middle-aged woman named Justice Kavita Reddy. "Mr. Verma, stick to questions."
The trial ground on. Witness after witness. Forensic experts testified about the blood spatter patterns, the trajectory of the gunshot, the defensive wounds on Vikram's arms. Medical examiners detailed the injuries to the gang members.
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Then came the body blows.
"The State calls Dr. Pradeep Kumar, Assistant Coroner."
Dr. Kumar, a nervous man with round glasses, took the stand. He described the autopsy of Salim. "The deceased was stabbed multiple times—eight wounds in total. The first wound to the kidney was likely fatal. The subsequent wounds were... excessive."
"Excessive," Verma repeated, turning to the gallery. "Not the act of a man defending himself. The act of a man intent on killing."
Vikram felt the weight of the room's stares. He looked down at his hands—the hands that had held a knife, that had taken lives. He wanted to explain, to make them understand the terror, the desperation. But words felt inadequate.
Meera's turn came during cross-examination. "Dr. Kumar, in your professional opinion, if the accused had stopped at the first stab wound,
would Salim have survived long enough to call for help or retaliate?"
Dr. Kumar considered. "Possibly. The kidney wound would have caused severe pain and bleeding, but death would not have been immediate."
"So the subsequent wounds ensured the threat was neutralized. In a dark alley, facing an enforcer from a violent gang, would you consider that an unreasonable response from a terrified man?"
"Objection!" Verma barked. "Calls for speculation." "Overruled," Justice Reddy said. "The witness may answer."
Dr. Kumar shifted. "I... I suppose in a state of extreme fear, one might not stop to assess whether the threat was neutralized."
Meera nodded. "No further questions."
The prosecution rested after two weeks. Then Meera began the defense.
"The Defense calls Inspector Rajveer Singh."
Singh took the stand, his uniform crisp, his face unreadable. Meera approached him.
"Inspector, you investigated the Khanna gang for years. Can you describe their modus operandi when dealing with people who resisted them?"
Singh's voice was gravelly. "They use extreme violence as a deterrent. Beatings, mutilation, public executions. There are seventeen unsolved murders we've now linked to them. Victims who refused to pay extortion, witnesses who cooperated with police, rivals who encroached on their territory."
"In your professional opinion, was Vikram Sharma's life in danger?"
"Yes. Absolutely."
"And his family?"
"Yes."
"Did he come to the police for help?"
Singh paused. This was the painful part. "He did not file a formal complaint. But he was interrogated after the home invasion. He expressed fear of retaliation if he cooperated."
"Was his fear justified?"
Singh looked directly at Vikram. "Yes. The Khanna gang had informants in the police force. If he had filed a complaint, they would have known within hours."
"So the system failed him."
"Objection!" Verma shouted. "Leading the witness!"
"I'll rephrase," Meera said smoothly. "Inspector, in your experience, how effective is police protection against organized crime in Delhi?"
Singh's jaw tightened. "Not effective enough."
The courtroom murmured. Justice Reddy banged her gavel. "Order."
Meera turned to the judge. "Your Honor, Vikram Sharma was an ordinary citizen trapped in an extraordinary nightmare. He sought no glory, no revenge. He sought survival. When the system could not protect him, he protected himself. That is not murder. That is the most fundamental human right."
The trial adjourned for deliberation. Vikram was led back to the prison van, handcuffed, surrounded by armed guards. As the van pulled away from the court, he saw her.
Priya stood behind the barriers, holding Aanya's hand. Their eyes met for a brief, agonizing second. Aanya waved, confused. Priya just stared, tears streaming down her face.
Vikram pressed his hand against the window. Then the van turned the corner, and they were gone.

