Wishing all the best to friend and author Neelabh Pratap Singh upon the release of his second novel, PI Agency.

I love reading crime thrillers with female detectives or investigators. The cover seems intriguing!

BLURB

A LADY DETECTIVE. A CLANDESTINE CARTEL. A CROOKED BATTLE.

Rashmi Purohit is a failed CBI aspirant. With no future in Indian law enforcement, she turned to working alongside the law. Now running her own agency out of her claustrophobic basement, Rashmi is dying for a notable case and a big break.

A wealthy entrepreneur with a troubled, drug-addicted son seems like the perfect client. But when Rashmi and her impetuous, barely-competent employees stumble into a Dark Web-based investment conspiracy, the detective knows she has kicked a hornet’s nest. Rashmi might just solve the case – but only if it doesn’t kill her, destroy her agency, or make her betray her father’s legacy one last time.

Here is an excerpt from the book.

For the fourth time, Rashmi Purohit called her subordinate, Akshay, but much to her disdain, he didn’t pick up the call.

Where the fuck have these idiots gone? Rashmi thought, throwing the mobile phone on the table. She checked the time on the table clock kept to her right. Bhupender Bhatia might come at any time.

A moment later, Rashmi heard a beep sound. The alarm beeped whenever anyone opened the office’s main door. She quickly glanced at the CCTV monitor. Bhatia is here.

A few weeks ago, a girl named Priya had hired Rashmi to inquire about her boyfriend, with whom she was planning a wedding. Priya suspected that her boyfriend was involved in an affair. She shared a screenshot of WhatsApp chats sent to her by another girl—her boyfriend’s colleague—with whom Priya’s boyfriend appeared to be cheating. The chats clearly showed her boyfriend having romantic talks with his colleague, and she’d sought Rashmi’s help to provide evidence. Rashmi shadowed the guy for a few weeks and concluded the case. Before she contacted Priya, she had dropped a message with the guy’s father, Bhupender Bhatia.

Bhatia stormed into the office.

“Ms Purohit, what a pathetic joke is this?” Bhatia said, his right hand stretched forward holding his mobile phone. The mobile phone showed Rashmi’s message, which she had sent a few hours ago.

Rashmi observed Bhatia’s hand trembling. He is afraid, Rashmi thought. “The truth, Mr. Bhatia.”

“You think it was I who had planned everything?” Bhatia clenched his teeth, putting his mobile phone back inside his pocket.

Rashmi noticed Bhatia’s balled fist inside his pocket. He was standing still, his shoulders raised. Okay, so you want some action. Rashmi tied her hair behind her neck into a ponytail. “Apparently, yes. I didn’t tell anything to your son or his girlfriend, Priya. I called you here to advise you to get things sorted between your son and his love, and I will not tell anyone anything.”

“What do you mean you won’t tell anyone anything? As if you would be in a position to tell anyone anything.” Bhatia swung his fist.

Rashmi jerked back sharply. I was expecting it.

“Long ago, when I was not the head of a transport company,” Bhatia growled, “I rumbled with ten men. You don’t stand a chance, ladki.”

She’d marginally escaped the first blow, but she wasn’t quick enough to dodge the second one. Her mind blacked out for a moment, and she began to fall. She held the edge of the table. She heard her phone ringing. The name displayed ‘Akshay Arora’.

The phone ring distracted Bhatia for a moment, and Rashmi noticed that. She grabbed the table clock and threw it at Bhatia. She tapped on the call accept button on the mobile phone and put it on the loudspeaker. “Arora, where the hell are you guys?”

“Boss, we are out for golgappas,” Akshay’s electronic voice radiated out of the mobile phone’s loudspeaker.

Rashmi had deliberately picked the call and put the call on loudspeaker. She hoped that it would distract Bhatia, and was also optimistic that Bhatia might stop after hearing someone else’s voice.

But only the former happened. A table clock wasn’t enough to hurt Bhatia, let alone stopping him.

Bhatia looked down at the fallen table clock and smirked. “What are you going to do next? Attack me with a toy?”

“Arora, I want you here in two minutes, or else I’ll pull off your golgappas,” Rashmi swore as she picked up a rolling chair and threw it at Bhatia.

Bhatia tried to duck, but the chair hit him anyway.

“Oh, the toy seemed to hit you quite hard.”

Bhatia looked even more furious now. He approached Rashmi, swinging alternatively and aggressively, like a maniac.

Rashmi blocked every blow with her forearms. Enough of the self-defence, Rashmi thought. She lifted her right leg and struck it sharply against the left side of Bhatia’s ribcage. Bhatia bent down a little, crying in pain. Without putting her right leg on to the ground, Rashmi repeated the action, but this time, against Bhatia’s left thigh. Bhatia collapsed on the floor like a demolished building.

Rashmi caught her breath for a while and watched Bhatia lying crumpled on the floor. “I was just respecting your age, uncle,” Rashmi said, finally punching Bhatia’s face.

Intrigued? I am reading the book and it sure promises to be a great read to all detective fiction lovers. Buy your copy from Amazon

ABOUT AUTHOR

Neelabh Pratap Singh is a mechanical engineer by profession and works with the premium British motorcycle manufacturer, Triumph Motorcycles. Apart from being surrounded by superbikes, he keeps himself surrounded with books. He is an avid reader and a passionate storyteller. He started writing as a blogger, writing short stories for various platforms. His passion for storytelling led him to take up the gargantuan task of writing a full-fledged novel. The Resurrection of Evil is his debut book. He lives in Gurgaon with his wife.

Connect with the author:

Email: neelabhpratap.singh@gmail.com

Facebook: /authorneelabh

Twitter: @authorneelabh

Instagram: @authorneelabh