Imran was standing alone on the sidewalk! Rabia's car had already left. He took a chewing gum out of his pocket, put it in his mouth, and started chewing it. In his contemplative state, chewing gum proved to be his best companion. Like the detectives in mystery novels, he was neither interested in cigars nor in pipes, and he didn't drink alcohol either.
At that moment, he had many questions on his mind, and he was standing on the edge of the sidewalk as if he intended to cross the street, but the truth was that he had no such thought in his mind.
He was thinking that Sir Jahangir could be related to these matters. The piece of paper he found near the second corpse was from Sir Jahangir's writing pad. The mysterious young man had also met Rabia at Sir Jahangir's place, and the handsome young man whom Lady Jahangir had mentioned could be none other than him. But even Lady Jahangir did not know him. Lady Jahangir was right in saying that if he were a member of any prominent family in the city, she would surely have known him. Suppose Lady Jahangir was also involved in some conspiracy, why did she mention it to Imran? It could be that she was unaware of his other life. But then the question arises, why did she mention it at all? Was it not something important? Hundreds of young men might have been involved with young women, even if they were worse than a water-carrying bag. Then another question arose in his mind: why hadn't that cajoled man informed the police about Rabia? He had stopped thinking about the grave and the corpse. His concern was who these people were and why they were interested in that house. If it was Sir Jahangir, what was his connection to that building? He was well acquainted with Sir Jahangir, but not well enough to suspect him. Sir Jahangir was among the most respectable people in the city, not only respectable but also reputable.
After a little while, just as Imran was about to cross the street, a car halted in his way. It was Rabia's car.
"Thank God I found you," she said, poking her head out of the window.
"I knew you would need me again!" Imran said as he opened the car door and sat next to Rabia. The car started moving again.
"For God's sake, save me," Rabia said in a trembling voice. "I'm drowning!"
"So you think of me as a lifeline?" Imran laughed.
"Please do something. If Daddy finds out about this, then…?"
"He won't find out," Imran said seriously. "You women have stepped into the field alongside men... I'm glad, but you don't know that men make a fool out of you in every field. By the way, forgive me, I don't know what they call a female owl."
Rabia said nothing, and Imran continued, "Well, forget about that. I'll try to keep your name out of this drama! Now you're satisfied, right? Stop the car… alright, goodbye."
"Oh!" Rabia let out a small scream and slammed on the brakes.
"What happened?" Imran looked around, startled.
"It's him," Rabia muttered. "Get out, I'll deal with him."
"Who is it? What's the matter?"
"The one who got me into this trouble."
"Where is he?"
"He just went into that bar. It was him, wearing a leather jacket and brown pants."
"Alright, you go! I'll handle it!"
"No, I also…"
"Go!" Imran said sternly, widening his eyes. Rabia was intimidated; at that moment, foolish Imran's eyes looked terrifying to her. She silently turned the car around.
Imran entered the bar. It didn't take long to find the described person. He was sitting alone at a table. He was a handsome young man with a stout body. His broad forehead was scarred from injuries, and he seemed to have a habit of tilting his head slightly to the right. Imran sat at a table near him.
It seemed like he was waiting for someone! He looked somewhat anxious. Imran took out another piece of chewing gum and popped it into his mouth.
His guess was not wrong. After a little while, a man came and sat down next to the one in the leather jacket. Imran then saw the signs of anxiety disappear from his face.
"Everything is falling apart!" said the man in the leather jacket.
"That old man has gone crazy!" the other man replied.
Imran could clearly hear their conversation. The man in the jacket scratched his chin thoughtfully for a few moments before speaking again.
"I'm sure his idea isn't wrong! Everything is there, but our men are cowards. At the slightest sound, they get scared."
"But, what kind of sounds are they?" asked the other man.
"No matter what kind of sounds they are! We shouldn't care about them."
"And how did those two die?"
"That's the thing!" the man in the jacket said thoughtfully. "I still don't understand it! Only the one who starts the work dies. We've seen this from the beginning."
"So, what should we do in this situation?" asked the other man.
"We need to settle this matter today!" the man in the jacket said. "It's also significant that there's no police guard there."
"But that night, besides us, there was someone else there. I suspect the man who lives in the outside room."
"Alright, let's go! We shouldn't waste any time."
"Let's have a drink first! I'm very tired... What will you have... whiskey or something else?"
They continued drinking, and Imran got up and went to a nearby public telephone booth. The next moment, he was dialing Fayyaz's private phone number.
"Hello! Sooper... yes, it's me! Everything's fine... I've got a cold. I wanted to ask if I should drink some herbal tea! Why get angry over that... Anyway, the main thing is that within an hour, there should be an armed guard around that building... That's all, don't ask further! If it doesn't happen, Sherlock Holmes will not help Dr. Watson in the future."