It had been twelve hours since I reached Redlie Amines. It was dark, sun was down. My plan had failed, no sign of Khan. All I ended up with was another puzzle to solve.
We were in a shelter at the forest area somewhere at the outskirts, proximate to the reserved forest area.
'Just hand me over to the police. Finish this torture.' Said Father Samuel, seated at a flat surface of a chopped tree.
'I need to know the truth.' I said. 'Who's behind all this?'
'I can't tell you, or they'll kill me. Better hand to the police.' He said.
'Who do you think I am?' I said. 'I'm a journalist, not a cop. I only seek the truth. I just want to know who did this.'
He did not respond. Just continued staring.
'Father, please.' I requested. 'I must know the truth. For Mary's justice.'
'Mary's justice?' He said. 'She needs no justice. She's a traitor. She lied and lied, constantly, with no regret.'
'What do you mean?'
'Firstly, who told you that I murdered Richard?'
'Sister Grace from the Church.'
He crunched hard on his teeth, showing a disappointed expression.
'I don't trust her. At least not any more.' He sighed.
'Why? What did she do?'
'We all grew together in this monastery. We've known each other for a long time. John was not mentally disabled. After their family fell apart, John and Richard got into a bad fight. John ended up being battered and ended up with an awful head injury. I thought Richard did this, until he came back to the monastery, after he ended his relations with them. He told me that Mary hired goons to torture John, but they went overboard, and battered him badly. That's why he was disgraced by her acts, and came back to the Church. And I never stopped John from paying his respects to her.' He said.
'What about Sister Grace? Why don't you trust her?' I asked.
'She was close to Mary. They were always together until she joined the politics. I don't know the reason, but she simply stopped talking to her, or even mentioned her after that. But she's not clean. I realized it.' He said and sighed. 'About three years ago, when Mary visited us, they both were chatting in the quarters where we all stay. I wanted to speak to her, but I found them arguing over something. It went on for a while. Grace got frustrated and left and walked away in anger.'
I looked at his face. I somehow felt that he did not tell the complete story.
'There is something you're not telling me, Father. What it?' I said.
He sighed.
'I can never forget what she said that day.' He said. 'Don't you dare come here again, or I'll Kill You.'
'But why don't you trust her?' I said.
'Nobody does.' He said. 'She has been caught several times for petty thefts. Poor girl, I pity her. She lost her parents when she was a kid. Her uncle, a disrespectable man he was, took her under his care. Her upbringing was bad, among cheap thugs and drunkards.'
I nodded. But that was not enough to prove her "lack of credibility" because simple acts in the past would not make her a danger.
'Does she have any links with Gururaj?' I asked.
'Gururaj? Yes. He's her cousin.' He replied.
Now, this fact opened room for suspicion because she, voluntarily or not, would be working for him. Especially that I have made him my sworn enemy.
At the moment, Avani received a call. She gestured for a private space and walked away to a distance. Rita was in the adjacent, listening to the conversation.
An hour later, I was in the lodge still waiting for Gururaj to become active. But he never did. In fact, he had disappeared into thin air without any traces. His "Mafia" was either become ghost, or were disbanded. Either way seemed weird.
The night grew quieter as time passes, making me restless. Now what? I was out of options because this was unanticipated.
It was ten in the night. All shops closed and people asleep. I headed to Anni Street to meet Grace once more. I headed to the same house where she gave me Mary's diary. But there was no one there. I had tried knocking five times, but there was no response. Then, a neighbour came out of the house with all tangled hair, grimacing at me.
'What do you want, man?' She said. 'Why are you disturbing us?'
'I wanted to meet Sister Grace. It was urgent.' I said.
'She does not live here. She lives at the new quarters.' She said and gestured to go away.
I ran towards the new quarters, which was not far from there. It was a five-minute run.
The quarters were a recently constructed, three storied building, freshly painted. The lights were on. I knocked at the door. I heard footsteps approaching the door. The door opened. A young woman, in her twenties, stood at the door. A woman from inside asked who it was, and she replied with a dissent.
'Who are you?' She asked.
'I'm looking for Sister Grace.' I said.
'One minute.' She said and spoke to the woman inside asking about Grace.
'She is not here.' She said.
'Thank you.' I said.
She also seemed to have disappeared, with Gururaj, perhaps. I was stuck with no route. Then, in the corner of my eye, I saw a person walking. I ignored at first, but then simply looked in that direction. A woman, wearing a black raincoat, was walking slowly across the street. Who would wear a raincoat when it is not raining. That was suspicious to me. So, I glared at her. I could identify her from her back. It seemed like grace. I began following her, slowly and carefully. But she noticed me. She turned back and saw me at a distance. It was Grace sneaking away.
She immediately sprinted forward, as though she was on a marathon. I ran. I was fast, thanks to the training in Gujarat. I quickly gained on her, almost about to catch her. She took a steep turn and ran towards the left. I followed her. Again, I got close, and to my luck, it was a straight road with no turns. She reached a dead end, an insurmountable wall. She turned around. I was a few steps away. She slid her hand in her pocket and pulled out a small revolver. I was staggered. I thought: Is she going to shoot me? Is she the culprit?
'Stay back.' She screamed. The gun pointed at me.
'Calm down, Grace. I just want to talk.' I said.
'There is no talking. I've to do this.' She said. She put her figure on the trigger. I was petrified. I guessed that she was coerced to do this as well.
'We can talk.' I said. 'Put down the gun. It's not worth it.'
'I've to.' She said crying. 'Or He'll kill me.'
'No one will kill you.' I said. 'I promise I'll get you to safety.'
'You can't. No one can.' She said. She put more pressure on it. A little more and the bulled would be fired. I was right in the way with no way of dodging it. Her hands began quivering. Tears running from her eyes.
'Please.' I said. 'I know you are forced into this. But listen to me. I can help you.' I said.
She shook her head and put down the gun. It was still in her hand.
'I'm coming close to you, okay? Drop the gun down.' I said.
I stepped forward. One foot, she stood still, the second still the same and then the third.
'I can't.' She said.
She pointed the revolver on the side of her head.
'I've to do this.' She said.
'No. Don't.' I said. 'Whatever it is, I can solve it.'
'No you can't.' She shouted. 'This is the only way.'
I could not convince her to not do it. I thought I failed. I kept telling her not to, but she kept pushing the trigger, bit by bit. Then, I noticed something. The hammer was not set, nor was the cylinder loaded. She was coaxed into this, with no other option.
She puled the trigger. The firstly penetrates her skull, then enters the brain, surpass that and rupture it. Then, the bullet exits through the other side, depending upon the proximity of the bullet shot. All the fluids, with parts of squashed brain particles, followed by blood would come out, like a water balloon exploding. In an instant, she would be dead. But none of that happened because it was an unloaded gun.
She pulled the trigger again, but it was futile. She dropped the revolver, and kneeled down, crying in pain.
An hour later, the rest and I joined at her quoters, a full furnished room. I got them comfortable enough to calm down. It was late night at twelve. I held a cup of coffee to get some caffeine so that I do not sleep.
'Tell me everything from the start.' I said.
'Guru is my cousin. They took care of me after my parents died. They were very harsh in me, neglected me completely. Not only that, but they used me for all sorts of things, robbery, stealing.' She said, her eyes filled with tears and voice shaky. 'He told me to kill you, or else they would kill me. I've been very afraid of them, they could have raped me. Sir, please help me. I beg you.'
I felt empathy towards her.
'I'll help you.' I said, then turned to Father Samuel. 'Tell me, Father, where is John?'
'I don't know.' He replied.
'Please, Father, I need to know.' I said.
'I want to help you, but I don't know. He's not in my care any more.' He said.
'Avani' I said. 'Tell me please.'
She shook her head, not even considering it. I was honestly disappointed in everyone, including myself. Was this the end of my investigation? I thought.
Three hours had passed. I was trying to get some sleep, but could not because of the strong coffee. I become restless, irritated because nothing worked at all. I simply failed to understand how Khan knew my every move.
I got out of that congested lodge and strolled outside at three in the morning, unable to think. Just then, I came across the same abandoned house where Avani was abducted. I walked inside without any real reason.
It was dark inside, darker than the last time. I walked in carefully, making sure that I do not trip over something. Suddenly, I hit a hard surface. It felt like furniture. I slowly touched the surface, like a blind man, feeling the things. It was just a flat surface, wooden, perhaps. I reckoned there was a wall upfront, so I turned to my right. It seemed like there was a passage there. I walked towards it. Suddenly, I tripped over something and fell to the ground. It was not hard like wood, or metal, nor was it soft. At that moment, I noticed a foul smell, something rotten. I feared what it was, yet I pulled out my phone which was running on low battery and turned on the torch. What I saw was frightening.
I suddenly puked because of that disgusting smell of it. I pulled out a hand kerchief and covered my nose and mouth. Then, I pointed the phone at it. There was a brutally beaten corpse rotting on the floor. There were flies around the unrecognizable face, and rats feeding off it.
I could not guess who it was. It could be anybody, or John, perhaps.
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TO BE CONTINUED...