As soon as they entered, they realized that the house had been locked and empty. An old iron padlock was hanging down the front door of the peach colured building. The old man who opened the gate had already deserted them in the vast green lawn and was strolling towards the the brick red shed, built along the white wall.
"Call him!" whispered Maahir into Janvi's ears.
"Why should I obey you?" she whispered back.
"Because I am the leader here!"
"And who decided that?!"
"It should have been obvious! I have more experience, I picked up the request and I-"
"Was standing on the road for quarter an hour, unable to decide whether to ring the bell or knock the door."
"I was waiting for you!"
"That's a lie."
"It isn't! Ask your stupid street dogs if you want to. And why didn't you ring the bell as soon as you got here?"
"We were arguing, remember? Besides, he let us in because of me."
"You?"
"Yeah. He recognized the Trixy arm band I am wearing and let us in. I told you to wear it too. I will come to be useful sometimes."
"You didn't say that, you liar. Wait till the band bites back at you."
"When are you going to stop hissing and sit down?" asked the old man, who had returned. He had brought three chairs with him, two of them sagged before them and one beneath him.
"Thanks, old man," said Maahir, slouching into his chair reluctantly.
"You can call me Finny. I'm the servant of all sorts here," said the old man, without showing a single one of his precious teeth.
"We are from Trixy," said he, getting his ID and showing it front, "We are here on a job to find a missing person, Mr. Maran Kartij. He is the owner of this house, I suppose?"
"Half the owner," said Finny, "The other half is Sahil Kartij, his elder brother. You could have met him if you had come half an hour earlier. He left just now."
"Is he the one who requested our assistance? There are quite a bit of things to be discussed, including payment details. Do you know where he went to?"
Finny snorted out a laugh. "Sahil would not pay you a single penny for finding back Maran. You should be glad if he doesn't assault you for finding him. I posted that request. But in all honesty, I was not expecting anyone to take up it."
"You?"
"Yes, me. I will pay you. Five thousand odas for the search alone. If you manage to find him back alive, I promise you will be paid more. By Maran himself."
"We've got a deal there," said Maahir, holding his hand out smiling and Finny shook it, "I would be glad if you can give me a brief account of whatever happened and any suspects you might have, before we indulge into the case."
"I have been a servant of this household for nearly thirty years now, " said Finny, looking up at the clouds, and frowning his brows, "Have you ever heard of Linga Kartij? Well, he was not that famous I suppose. But he was a very successful business man. He was also my master. He built this Tarang industry, from scratch. And just like all men, he fell in love, got married and created his own family. The mistress used to do so much work when she came that she made me nearly jobless."
He chuckled, dropping his arms down, still staring at the sky.
"More than ten years has passed since she died. And then he too joined her, a few months ago. Maybe he wasn't a good father. Fights over his wealth began before we even buried his body fully.
Sahil was suffering some private losses and was in urgent need of money. This is just a guest house, you could say. Their mansion is in the city. Sahil wanted to sell it. And Maran didn't. They had a big quarrel even on the very day he disappeared."
"So, you think Sahil has something to do with his disappearance?"
"Highly likely. There is bad blood between them. Had always been. And I saw Maran with my own eyes going into the house that night. How could he vanish like that? And let me be clear on one point. My loyalty lies to Maran, after my master died."
"Do you have a photo of him? Of Maran. It might help us."
"I might," said he, getting up, shivering and marched to the shed.
"Quiroshi," said Janvi, her voice quivering, and she blowing her nose, "You shouldn't fart when people cry."
Quiroshi barked back angrily, defending himself.
"It wasn't you?" asked she, "Maahir, was it you then?!"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Don't you smell it?"
Maahir sniffed hard.
"It's gas!" shouted he, rising up.
"I know. Fart is gas."
"Not that. LPG! Liquefied Petroleum Gas!"
"Oh," said she, nodding understandingly, "Chemical name for fart, I see. You miss a lot when you don't go to school."
"LPG is the gas you use for cooking!The ones filled inside the red coloured cylinders you see in the kitchen. It's leaking I think. We gotta do something. It's dangerous to leave it like that."
"Quiroshi," said she, glancing at the dog, "Can you take us to the source?"
Quiroshi replied yes, in his mother tongue and sprinted to the backyard with Maahir and Janvi in his toes. The backyard was much smaller compared to the lawn in front but had a six foot wall marking it's border. There was just an empty plot of land behind the house, full of weeds which opened into the next street.
Quiroshi stopped infront of an empty window into which Maahir peeped and sniffed hard again. "It is the kitchen and the gas is indeed leaking. I don't think Finny is going to have a key. What should we do?"
He began pacing up and down, rubbing his left brow. "What else?" asked Janvi, "Break into the house obviously!"