AL.AN – The Nemesis

Athul DeMarco

Contact Details Arvind Chandrashekar, 102, MS Homes, 4th Main, GM Palya, Bangalore, Karnataka India – 560075

Email - don.osiris@gmail.com Phone - +91 9886720869 1 “Shoulda, coulda, woulda. It’s so easy in the past tense.” — Sarah Dessen (The Truth About Forever)

‘Why won’t you come? It will be so much fun’ Annie pleaded with her brother. She watched him go through his notes and polish the lens on his telescope. He watched Annie jump up and down on the bed. She knew his answer even before he turned his attention to her. Her brother had been going on and on about how magical the meteor shower would look and she knew he would be spending the night looking at the sky than come to the party with her. 

He had told her all about the meteor shower and the comet, Swift-Tuttle. The only reason she remembered the comet was because she pictured a turtle with a crash helmet speeding through space when he brother had told her about his plan. Her brother was a genius. Everybody said so in school, even though he was two years younger to her. But for Annie Salvatore, her brother was just her brother and he was the closest thing to being her best friend. And for a girl of fifteen, a best friend is always burdened with responsibilities which the ‘bestie’ is never made aware of till the time comes and disappointment is expressed. ‘Everybody will be there!’ Annie had added to her argument. ‘And exactly who all is everybody?’ Her brother questioned as he stopped polishing his telescope and looked at his sister curiously. ‘I told you about this last night. I said Neil, Peter, Susan, Naoko, Ivan… Like the whole gang. Even Mr. Kapoor is going to be there.’ Annie had excitedly rattled off the names of all her friends in a way only a fifteen year old can. ‘What about Ian?’ her brother asked again. Annie tried averting her gaze from her brother’s and smoothed out her miniskirt which she planned on wearing later that night. She had gone to great lengths to get the dress material and had emotionally forced her mother to stitch the mini skirt which seemed to be all the rage in all the fashion magazines. The magazines were calling it the swinging sixties. Her mother didn’t approve, but Annie never did ask for much. Annie knew that the answer to her brother’s question was the one she had been trying to avoid answering. Ian and her brother were best of friends and they always were off doing things together. Ian and her brother had become friends when they met at the student counselor’s office who was administering the IQ tests years back. The two of them had scored so much on that test that teachers never reprimanded them or bothered to give them any assignments. Ian was the same age as her and the rest of her “friends”. But her “friends” had always thought of Ian as being bit of an oddball, and avoided him like the cooties, which left Annie not much of a choice but avoid being seen with two of them after school hours. Even though she had more fun with the two of them than her friends, Ian and her brother were always to some mischief. Being a teenager was never meant to be easy. The body changed, people were beginning to judge and friends became boys and girls. One of the chief hurdles of being a teenager is being seen as cool. And for that one needed to be seen with other cool kids. Wanting to be friends with cool kids included following unwritten rules. In effect, being a teenager was more confusing than trapezing over a minefield, dressed as a clown and holding a sparkler. ‘No. He is not coming.’ Annie answered as she smoothed her hair down, knowing now that no amount of emotional blackmailing would entice her brother to come along with her. She looked herself at the mirror and checked on her pageboy haircut again. Her brother had done a remarkable job, even though Annie wasn’t completely satisfied with the result, she at least didn’t have spend money at the hair salon. A trip to the hair salon would have cost her a year’s allowance, which she had already spent in getting the fabric for her miniskirt. ‘What about dad then?’ ‘No. He said he has got some work and that he would be too tired to come for the party. You are going to regret not coming to this party you know. It is going to be so much fun! It is going to twitchin’’ Annie had exclaimed as a last resort to convince her brother into changing his mind. Neil Forde Senior, owner of Forde Enterprises and father to Neil Forde Junior had invited all his son’s friends and tutors to come and celebrate his son’s good showing in the GCSE’s. Neil Jr., had personally invited Annie the previous day. Annie had been ecstatic. She had been vying for Neil’s attention ever since they were in form six. Everybody in the class knew about the massive crush she had been nursing for Neil. Everybody, even her brother and Ian knew about her juvenile obsession, everybody except Neil. Susan and Naoko, her girlfriends, didn’t really like her acting all ditsy in front of Neil. And sometimes she got the feeling that the others in the group didn’t really like her much. They always were making fun of her. They made fun of the clothes her mother stitched for her every summer. They made fun of the fact that her father was their physics teacher in school and resembled Ebenezer Scrooge minus all the money. They made fun of the way she always carried peanut butter jelly sandwiches for lunch and never had money to buy lunch at the school cafeteria. But she didn’t give heed to all ribbing she got from them, but there were days when she cried herself to sleep. They were the cool kids. The cool gang with the cool kids, everybody wanted to be a part of the gang. The gang knew about it, and behaved accordingly. . While the rest of the school was just discovering the likes of The Beatles, the cool gang had moved on to Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, The Rolling Stones were the new flavor of the season. The boys had started to walk with a swagger in their bell bottom jeans, their hair gelled back in a shiny pompadour. And the girls had started to paint their nails and lips with luscious shades of red, miniskirts and paisley printed pants were all the rage. The boys had learned how to smoke cigarettes and the girls had started to pay extra attention to match their undergarments with their mood. Annie’s allowance didn’t allow her to partake in all these fun activities with her friends. Some days all Annie could manage was to sneak and rummage through her mother’s knicker drawer, especially on the days when they had gym class and she had to strip and change in front of the other girls in class. She usually lived vicariously as she sat around in rapt attention and listened in fascinatedly to the girls’ gossiping about who snogged whom and how it felt. For Neil to invite Annie to the party meant only one thing to Annie, she had finally been accepted by her friends. That this was her one chance to tell Neil how she felt about him. That this was her one single chance for her to be considered cool just once in her life. ‘Have fun!’ her brother had yelled as Annie left his room in a huff.

The adults were enjoying themselves in the study, laughing, drinking and doing other adult things. The kids were doing the same, unknown to the adults in the living room. Alcohol was being passed around in plastic party cups and drugs were passed around in pills and joints. Annie had wanted to be part of this group for so long that she gulped down her first couple of drinks without bothering to breath. Before she knew it she was drunk. And before she knew it, Annie entered Neil’s parent’s bedroom with him leading her, holding her hands. She now understood what the girls were talking about when they said that there could be a hundred butterflies taking flight in their tummy. Neil gently closed the door behind him and made her turn around. He closed his eyes, tilted his head and leaned in for a kiss, so did Annie as she mimicked him. Before she knew it, before her lips could meet Neil’s, before she had known what it was to have her first real kiss. Somebody cruelly run a pair of scissors on the back of her newly stitched miniskirt and pulled down her knickers. Knickers which she had stolen from her mother’s drawer. They all pointed and laughed at her as she ran out of the house and into the backyard, as the shock tremors broke through as tears streaming down her face. The cool breeze and the placid water in swimming pool did nothing to calm her frazzled nerves. Her friends, they all followed her out into the open backyard where the swimming pool was. Neil came out hurriedly, unsure of his steps, guided by a drunk’s sense of direction and stability. He made his way to Annie, to comfort her and to apologize to her, while doing his best to not join his friends and burst into harsh squeals of laughter. In a moment of juvenile inspired fun, Peter pushed Neil and Annie into the swimming pool. The rest of them stood around the pool and watched Neil curse and swim back to the deck through the cold water. They laughed and continued to howl in delight at the girl in the water and at the moon.
Unlike what they show in movies, when somebody drowns, there is no frenzied splashing about, no hysterical cries for help. The human respiratory system is like a junkie, a drug addict and it is addicted to air. Just like how all a drug addict ever thinks of is finding his next hit, and when that is not easy to come, he clamps down and renews all his effort and energy into finding that fix which his body craves. When the human respiratory system believes that it is not getting enough air, and believes it is in danger of being suffocated, it clamps down and focuses on its primary function. To breathe, inhale and exhale life giving air, something which Annie’s body had stopped doing. Her body anchored down by all the water she swallowed, slowly descended down to the bottom of the swimming pool. The laughter which had been echoing around the backyard, abruptly stopped like somebody pressed stop on a scratchy record, as the sudden and crushing weight of realization collectively dawned upon the group of three boys and two girls.

‘We are so sorry’ they had pleaded to Annie’s father and brother early next morning. Watching the still wet body of a girl they knew from class drying on the deck had sobered them up. ‘It was all an accident! We were just playing and she just slipped and fell’ they said, while suppressing all the things they wanted to tell the father and brother. They had all agreed that it was an accident. They didn’t really mean to kill anybody. It was all just fun. ‘We didn’t know she couldn’t swim’ they protested. Annie’s brother continued to stare at them, his fists clutched and held to his side with rage. The voices in his head exclaiming to hit them and hit them hard enough that they stopped talking. Keep hitting them till they stopped lying. They had struck the first blow, but he would have his chance. He just had to wait for his father to just say the word. A single word uttered in anger. That’s all he wanted from his father, a show of emotion, of anger and disappointment. But Richard Salvatore looked stoned facedly at the group of adults and kids, not sure he was registering all that they said to him. ‘Mr. Salvatore? I am sorry about your loss. I really am. But I can’t afford any sort of a scandal. I hope you understand. Forgive me for what I am about to suggest, but calling the police would ruin my son’s life. And I am willing to pay whatever it takes to keep this just between us. Like the kids said, it was just an accident.’ Neil’s father had whispered into Annie’s father’s ears. ‘Think about little Oscar. He is a bright young lad. He is meant for great things. With the money you can be absolutely certain that he would get the best education that money has to offer’ Mr. Kapoor had said, coaxing Annie’s father to consider the offer for monetary compensation. Annie’s brother had expected his father to slap the men who wished to sully his sister’s name and treat her death as a joke. His sister wasn’t something whose life could be bought with money. But his father thought otherwise. Little Oscar wanted revenge. But he was young; he knew he couldn’t take them all at once. Not then and not there. He just had to bid his time. Lifelong grudges are formed and held the same way a glass cracks. It only takes a pebble to crack a glass, and it only takes a misplaced word to give birth to the crack in a man’s soul and spell grudge. A grudge which lasts even after the man’s soul departs his dead body. When Annie’s father muttered a number to Neil Forde senior, Oscar could feel the impact of that misplaced word deep into his psyche. Annie’s brother kept staring at her body and her torn clothes as his father graciously accepted the cheque. Two days later, they laid Annie’s body to rest. The funeral was attended by just her family of three. Her brother mentally wrote down the names of the three boys and two girls. He visualized scratching the name written on her sister’s tombstone and replacing with the names his sister considered to be friends, and his father. The freshly laid tombstone read, “Annie Salvatore. A loving daughter and sister 1951 - 1968”

Twenty three years later, the memory of that day was still fresh like the lilies he had laid on her grave that fateful day, as he made his way through the gates of “Chartoff Senior Citizen’s Retirement Home – Helping people live with dignity since 1876”. ‘Morning!’ The man spoke with a genial smile playing across his lips and his grey eyes, as he addressed the young girl seated behind the receptionist’s desk. ‘Good morning! How may I help you today?’ She had beamed back. The man read the name written on her name badge. Irene. ‘I am here to see Mr. Salvatore.’ The man replied. ‘Oh! That is so nice!’ The woman squealed with delight, ‘People don’t usually come to see him here often. I will just inform the attending nurse to come here and take you to him’ ‘Is it possible if I could take him out for a stroll?’ ‘I don’t see why not?’ Irene replied, her smile growing wider with every syllable uttered. ‘Also, would it be possible if you got the nurse to bring him here, I think it would be a nice surprise if I just whisked him away. You know give the old man the feeling that we are running away from here’ he coquettishly smiled at the girl as he suggested his plan. ‘Ooo! That is so sweet! But I am not sure if that is allowed. The residents usually don’t like having their routines changed.’ ‘I am sure if there is anybody who can do me a favor it is you Irene’ The man smiled coquettishly. ‘I will see what I can do.’ Irene blushed, before turning serious again, ‘Though, I am afraid that Mr. Salvatore… Well, he does have his mood swings. He is lot more difficult to handle than the rest of the residents. I am not sure what sort of a mood he is in now. I will see what I can do, in the meantime could you sign here’ Irene preemptively apologized as she turned around the visitor’s register. ‘That’s alright. He has always been that way.’ The man replied as he signed his name along with the date. ‘Oh! I almost forgot to ask… How are you er…’ Irene searched for words to complete the question. ‘Related to Mr. Salvatore? I am his sister in law’s son. Thought I would come and visit my uncle.’ He smiled as he explained the branch he was perched in the family tree.

‘Good Morning’ the courteous salutation beamed across the room. Muller followed up that innocent greeting from days of the yore with a broad grin, as he saw his friend amble over to the breakfast table. His friend, Richard Salvatore, the retired high school physics teacher nodded, as he slowly but, steadily made his way towards the breakfast spread. Frank Muller looked on as Richard stood at the starting line of the breakfast table tut-tutting at the spread of high fiber oats, muesli, fruits and yogurt. A diet prepared to cater to the irritable bowel syndrome and failing digestive system which the residents of Chartoff Senior Citizen’s Retirement Home suffered from. The day was a Monday. Muller had learned that the dates no longer mattered to him or any of the other residents of the retirement home. The days of the week however, brought along their own sweet surprises and small joys of visits from the family and friends. Muller looked up at the clock placed overhead the nurses’ station, quarter to eight, in another twenty four hours, he would play with his grandkids again. Muller continued to stand at the end of the breakfast table, lost in thoughts of grandfatherly affection, as he waited for his friend. Muller’s knees were beginning to ache in familiar places; his hands were full with his morning cup of coffee, a bowl of muesli and yogurt. Muller watched his friend sneakily slip a couple of cubes of sugar into his jacket pocket as Richard casually scanned the rest of the breakfast table grumpily as he filled his cup with hot black coffee. The two of them made their way to the only empty table left in the dining room. ‘Mr. Salvatore! Mr. Salvatore!’ Paul called out as the two slowly and steadily made their way. ‘What?’ Mr. Salvatore barked. His face contoured with frown lines as he looked at the nurse. Muller continued walking towards the empty table. ‘This is your lucky day Mr. Salvatore. You have a visitor.’ Paul beamed. Mr. Salvatore looked confused for a moment as he processed this new bit of information. ‘I don’t have anybody listed in my visitor’s list’ Mr. Salvatore waved his hand trying to dismiss Paul away as he made his way to where Muller was now seated. ‘I am aware of that Mr. Salvatore. But he claims he is related to you. From your wife’s side’ Paul relayed the message which had been passed on to him from the reception, hoping that the mention of Mr. Salvatore’s wife would soften him up and make him cooperate.
‘Well, I don’t want to meet anybody’ Mr. Salvatore spoke as he shifted his eyes back on Muller’s face which bore the look of a happy content man.
‘Well, too bad. I am supposed to escort you to the reception area.’ Paul spoke commandingly as he stepped in front of Richard. Mr. Salvatore violently shrugged Paul’s grip from his shoulders as he looked at Muller and sighed noisily. ‘Ah! Here he is!’ Irene beamed as Richard ambled with the help of Paul. ‘Thank you so much!’ The man smiled again and watched the girl blush as he took Richard’s hands out of Paul’s. ‘Who are you?’ Richard mumbled ‘Oh! Don’t you recognize me? It’s me…’ It was the man’s turn to smile apologetically at Irene and Paul for the old man’s memory, ‘He probably doesn’t remember me. The last time I saw him, I was six years old’. Irene exchanged smiles with the man and Paul, the nurse. Irene watched the man and Richard walk out of the building. The man was charming, well dressed and had a good heart. Irene wondered why she never dated men like him. She turned over the register to admire the man’s handwriting and studied his signature. It read, Peter Hailey. 19/3/1991’ It was going to be the last time anybody would see Richard Salvatore, the retired high school physics teacher.

Yes this is on point. I want to know what’s up. But the next chapter better hook me. Cuz it’s been 15 pages and I don’t know what is happening except that an old man has been kidnapped by his son possibly masquerading as his macchan.

2 “I’m not a ref, but I assigned her the penalty of clipping, and I told her to drop the scissors and step away from the newspaper ads.
” — Jarod Kintz

The newspapers extensively reported the Costello case for months as time went by in a whirlwind. Eugene had been promoted as Superintendent of Department X. Manny finally got around to marrying his childhood sweetheart, Shanti, in an elaborate and weeklong Hindu wedding. And the twins had opened their own detective agency. Their flat also doubled up as their office. Business had been slow. This was largely Andy’s insistence on not allowing either his name or his brother’s name being mentioned in the newspapers. But, genius is rarely contained or understood, and a good story always finds itself being retold. And with each retelling, the story like a good curry keeps getting better. And soon there were people lining up outside 201, Swann Street, where the twins resided. And just like Eugene had predicted when the twins had informed him about their new venture, the people who approached the twins with their problems were mostly suspicious spouses. Both Andy and Alfie were beginning to get annoyed, but it was Andy who had the smart idea of posting an advertisement in the Dresdan Times to promote their joint venture. Mostly to explain the conditions which were prerequisite for them to undertake a new case. Al & An : Detective Agency. Two detectives at the price of one. Ready to solve ALL* your problems. Anything weird and odd. Nothing is off limits. Everything# is investigated. Contact us at 889 -276 – 9689 or write to us at Flat 201, Swann Street, Dresdan Da Cunha – 3412 *Barring Suspecting Spouses.

If you suspect your partner is cheating on you, then they probably are.

Alfie had been skeptical about the effectiveness of it. But Andy had insisted and persisted that this was the way to go. They soon realized the foolishness of their ways as they got inundated with queries about mysterious flying lights in the night, crop circles, and requests to find missing socks and cows who refused to give milk. The case of the cows that refused to give milk, however made Alfie and Andy chuckle in delight as they duly set about solving the mystery. The twins were paid in kind, with a slab of cheese, which they graciously accepted and forgot about. Today, though, they found themselves in [X] with a spade and a head mounted flashlight digging XYZ ‘Quick! Dig harder and faster will you?’ ‘Ssshhh! Keep your voice down! We don’t want anybody to catch us burying this’ ‘Well, it is ALL your fault!’ Andy hissed the accusation in whispers. ‘Will you help me bury this thing now or not?’ Alfie looked on pleadingly at his brother as he covered his mouth and nose with the bend of his elbow. ‘It sure does stink to high heavens doesn’t it?’ ‘Yeah! And who would have known that the bin men are going to refuse to take a mould of Vacherin Mont d’Or cheese’ ‘How could you neglect this stinking piece of shit at the back of the refrigerator for… how long has it been?’ ‘Six weeks’ Alfie smiled sheepishly as he kicked the mould of cheese made out of a French cow’s milk into the grave the twins had dug up. ‘Oh yeah! It was when Mrs. Withers gave it to us for having helped her solve the problem of the cow which refused to give milk’ ‘Who would have guessed that a cow would refuse to give milk because a couple of bungling burglars were digging up a tunnel few miles away.’ ‘It was fun though…’ Andy replied trying to stifle a giggle. ‘Excuse me?’ The boys jumped up in fright, startled by the stealthy intrusion of a woman’s voice. ‘Sorry to startle you… But would you know where…’ The woman looked down at the torn out piece of newspaper to double check the details, ‘where Alan detective agency is?’ she questioned. ‘Could I see that please?’ Alfie pointed his hand at the torn piece of newspaper. ‘You have come to the right place. My name is Andrew and this is my brother Alfred. We run the Al & An detective agency.’ Andy invited the woman. ‘No! I think it is alright. I think I have got the wrong address’ the woman stepped back couple of feet as Andy extended his dirty hand to shake hers. ‘You have come to the right place Miss’ Andy assured his new albeit reluctant client. ‘No! Could I have that back’ the woman pointed at the newspaper clipping which Alfie held in his hand with the shovel balanced against his knee. ‘Actually never mind… You can keep it. Thank you!’ anger and frustration creeping into her demure voice as she hurriedly stepped back and started to walk away from the twins. ‘Well, in that case, you will never know who has been stealing the rosebuds from your garden’ Alfie yelled out at the woman scurrying her way across the road. The woman stopped in her tracks abruptly as she turned around amazed. The clean shaven face of Andy still continued to smile at her while Alfie’s gruff looking face yelled at her. ‘It is the postman! AND YOU ARE WELCOME!’ Alfie yelled out loudly once again as the woman turned her back at them and broke into a jog. ‘What rosebuds? What postman? What are you talking about? And thanks for scaring off a client’ the smile on Andy’s face was replaced with an annoyed frown as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his dirty hand. ‘Don’t you dare take that self righteous tone with me olrite?’ Alfie barked. Despite Alfie’s deductions, he wasn’t sure if the woman was scared away because of the way they looked or because they were busy trying to hide a big block of stinking cheese. Andrew and Alfred Ayres were unique in their condition of being conjoined twins. The twins had the extremities of a singular body except their head, their pelvis and abdomens were conjoined and each had control over his side of the body. ‘What rosebud and what postman?’ Andy inquired in a calmer and softer tone as he tried kicking dirt over the stinking slab of cheese. ‘Oh! Don’t pretend like you didn’t know what I was talking about’ Alfie snapped. ‘No. I honestly don’t know what you are on about.’ ‘Well, if you had finished digging up the hole and buried the cheese before she came over,’ Alfie continued as he made his annoyance clear, ‘then you would have noticed that she was left handed. And that the skin around her thumb, index and middle fingers were hardened from excessive use of pruning shears. Now, knowing you and your annoying habit to question all my deductions, you will now ask how I was sure that it was pruning shears and not just a regular pair of scissors,’ Alfie looked on irritatedly towards his brother nodding and smiling cheekily as he continued, ‘You wouldn’t be asking me that stupid question, if you paid attention and looked at her right hand and saw the few partially healed puncture marks from the rose’s thorns. The grassy dirt clinging under her shoes and the moisture on her knees from the morning dew would have been the other things which if you bothered to notice would have told you that the woman was a gardener and not a tailor.’ Alfie looked at his brother to see if he had answered all of his questions and then exasperatedly continued, ‘How did I know it was the postman?’ Andy nodded while smugly smiling which only infuriated Alfie more, ‘Well, whatever her name was, is an early riser, clearly established by the fact that she chose to trod over from across the countryside to meet us in the morning rather than in the afternoon says that I am right in my assumption. Now, you are going to question me as to how I know that she stays in the countryside.’ Alfie looked over at his brother to see him nodding. Alfie finally allowed himself to reciprocate his brother’s smile, realizing that he had forgotten that he was angry and was quite relishing explaining the solution to the unspoken problem. Alfie continued, ‘Even a non – observant man like you should have noted the prim and proper tight bun she sported, women in the city have long abandoned the bun for the free falling style, read that in last month’s “Fashion & You” magazine, or the ticket stub sticking out of her clutch from the tube ride she took to reach here. Either one of those clues should have been sufficient for you to deduct that she was from the countryside.’ ‘When did you read start reading women’s magazine?’ Andy curiously inquired as his eyebrows involuntarily bumped against each other. ‘Some woman was reading it, yesterday at the pub’ ‘You mean the one who was seated next to us and kept asking you to not smoke?’ ‘Yeah! The very same one! I mean whatever happened to freedom? Soon these self righteous non-smokers are going to ban smoking in public places. It is not like I am blowing smoke up their bottoms now, am I? And then soon you will have people telling you not to eat meat. The world is going absolutely going off its crumpets Andy. And I am beginning to hate it, especially with people like that woman going all dotty.’ Alfie ranted while Andy chuckled looking at his brother extolling his version of human rights. ‘Okay, if you are done with your diatribe about what is going wrong with the world and coming back to the woman and her rosebuds. So, you are saying that because she is an early riser, it rules out the milkman, because she is most likely to see him deliver the milk bottles everyday at her doorstep. Maybe even greet him while collecting the milk bottles every day. Which means that the only other person who is most likely to visit whatever her name was on a regular basis would be the postman. Not a friend but not a stranger either, somebody who she is acquainted with on a first name basis. And given that it is the countryside, somebody like a postman has the perfect alibi to stand at a place long enough for him to pluck the flower, without raising suspicions as onlookers are more likely to believe that he is sorting the mail than stealing rosebuds from a woman’s garden.’ Andy completed his brother’s long winded explanation. ‘So, you did notice after all!’ replied Alfie smiling smugly as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. ‘See! I did tell you that putting an advertisement in the Dresden Times would help us get new clients.’ Andy inquired sheepishly as he helped his brother take a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and light it up. The twins absentmindedly went about kicking dirt over the block of cheese they had laid to rest. ‘I suppose so. Though if you are intent on continuing carrying on with this publicity stunt, then I suggest we hire a secretary or somebody who can sieve out ungrateful clients who don’t pay us.’ Alfie replied as he closed his eyes and felt the wave of nicotine high wash over his skin. ‘You were the one who yelled out the answer at her. Anyway, I have already spoken to Dom about it’ Andy replied grinning widely as he waved the smoke away from his face. ‘Spoke about what?’ ‘About getting somebody to help us out’ ‘I hope that thing doesn’t decide to grow into a tree or something’ Alfie muttered as he absentmindedly dropped his half smoked cigarette down over the buried block of cheese and not really playing attention to his brother. Andy sighed out aloud and stubbed the still burning cigarette by squishing it with his heels. ‘Talking about Dom, let us go there for brunch. After we get rid of all this dirt’ Alfie suggested as they entered their apartment and got ready to take a bath. Andy didn’t really have much of a choice there.

When a man finds his life spiraling out of control and he is down on his luck and short of cash to pay for food. When the man’s future seems like a straddling set of black, thunderous cumulus clouds without a shred of light or hope in sight. Only a couple of places provide the respite a man seeks from the constant and unflinching bludgeoning of his dreams by the merciless reality of life. A loving woman’s bosom is one such place and the other is the local tavern. The McManus pub filled out both the positions for the twins. Dominic McManus, the big burly proprietor with a soft heart was as close the twins would come to enjoy the company of a patient and a loving woman. Dominic’s burgeoning midriff spilled over like an overflowing pint of beer from between his pants and the T-shirt which proudly exclaimed ‘Beer… The Drink of Gods!’ ‘Ah! You boys are in a bit early today aren’t you?’ Dominic McManus bellowed from behind the bar counter as he stopped polishing the bar counter and threw the cleaning rag over his shoulder which he always seemed to be carrying with him. ‘We are, aren’t we?’ Alfie cheekily replied, grinning widely as he leaned forward to be embraced and lifted up off the ground. ‘Mmhhmm’ Andy mumbled, his eyes firmly closed and lips tightly pursed together as he tried avoiding the moist cleaning rag over Dominic’s shoulder. His hands instantly shot out to wipe the wetness off his face as the wet rag and skin came in contact. ‘Tch! Tch! Somebody is feeling a bit touchy today aren’t they?’ Dominic whispered loudly as he winked and nudged Alfie and looked on amusedly at Andy. ‘Well, just for the non-existent record, I am not the one who is feeling touchy!’ Andy replied indignantly as he looked on accusingly at his brother as he continued to furiously wipe away at his face, hoping that the stench of wetness and beer would disappear. The smell stayed on. The boys moved over to their regular booth. ‘Uh-oh!’ Dominic looked worriedly at Alfie. Dominic liked the twins equally, but if anybody put a gun to his temple and asked him to choose which of the two brothers he liked more, he would utter Alfie’s name without any moment of hesitancy or doubt of any sort. ‘Nothing that I know about! And I certainly don’t know what he is on about. Dominic, can you get us the usual?’ Alfie replied as he shrugging and making the universal sign for a single pint of cold beer. ‘Oh! Don’t ‘I don’t know’ me, son! I have known you two for quite some time now… So out with it’ Dominic spoke loudly as he looked on with knotted eyebrows from behind the bar counter as he poured milk in a pint glass and filled up another pint glass with beer. The bar was virtually empty. The afternoon lunch crowd had yet to find its way to the pub for a stout and a sandwich. Starting with the discovery of the putrid smelling slab of cheese festering at the back of their refrigerator, the twins recounted the tale. Dominic was deeply engrossed, both in the story and in his sloppy attempts to hold back his guttural laughter which slowed down the story telling even further. The twins took sips of their respective drink as they watched on amusedly at Dominic trying to get a hold of himself. The steady stream of tears which flowed from his eyes by the sheer effort Dominic expended from laughing only added to the comic value of the story. ‘Why? Just why would you guys decide to bury a slab of cheese? You are supposed to eat the cheese. Not bury it’ Dominic had exasperatedly replied as he clutched the sides of his head and laughed. ‘Well, it was stinking. And the one rule we both agree on is that, if it stinks then it is dead’ Alfie replied. Andy continued, ‘Anyway, while we were digging the hole in the ground for the cheese…’ Just as the twins were coming to the end of their story, a man wheeled himself in and placed himself to a table not too far away from where the twins and Dominic were seated. The interruption got extended as Dominic went over to his new patron and served his order of a pint of stout and a bacon and ham sandwich before returning back to the table where the twins were seated. Andy looked over at the man seated in the wheelchair. The man caught Andy staring at him and smiled as Dominic left to fetch the man’s order. Andy blushed like a kid getting caught red handed with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. The twins continued with their story after Dominic joined them. ‘And so Mr. People’s person here thought that yelling out “It’s the postman. And you’re welcome!” Would convince her to stay long enough to pay us for our services’ Andy finished telling the story as he tried to shake the image of the man staring at the back of his head. ‘It wasn’t my fault. That is all I will say in my defense.’ Alfie added stoically. ‘You guys really need to hire an assistant or something. You know one of those people who sit in front of offices’ Dominic spoke as he continued to wipe away at the pool of water forming at the corner of his eyes from the effort of laughing hard. ‘I did tell you to look out for somebody like that couple of days back didn’t I? I did.’ Andy rhetorically quizzed Dominic before answering his own question. ‘I think I do know the right person for the job’ Dominic answered following it with a dramatic pause as he looked on amusedly at Andy. He knew that the person he had in mind would either send the twins into raptures of hysterical laughter at his choice or instantly lead to a verbal riot breaking out between the three of them. Before he could break the calculated pause he was interrupted by the man in the wheelchair. ‘Soh-rry. Are yuh guh-ys like dee-tectives?’ The man in the wheelchair wheezed more than he spoke as he wiped the remains of the stout off his upper lip. ‘Yes they are! And damn fine ones too!’ Dominic answered ‘Soh-rry. I reel-ly ham. I didn’t meh-ean to intruh-de, but I cuh-dn’t heh-yelp overhear yu-our conversation.’ The man wheeled himself over to the table where the twins and Dominic were seated. ‘The neigh-ame is Ian… Ian Saxenholdt’ the man wheezed his name like a horse with a cold, as he extended his hand towards the twins. ‘Alfred and this is my brother Andrew. And this is Dominic’ Alfie replied as he motioned his hands to the two before extending his hand to shake the stranger’s extended hand, resulting in an awkward handshake between a left and a right hand. Andy surprisingly chose to ignore the extended hand. ‘Like I said, I cuh-dn’t heh-yelp overhearing yuh guh-ayes. It juh-st sounds so marvelously fan-tah-stic. How do yuh do that?’ Ian gushed. ‘Have you ever seen a magician perform?’ Alfie smirked as he inquired. Andy rolled his eyes. He had heard the question and the wisenheimer response his brother gleefully retorted. ‘Yeah! I have seen kuh-aple of them. I had an uncle who yused to fancy himself as a meh-gician’ Ian replied, confused with the question but answering it nonetheless. ‘Well, have you ever seen a magician explain his magic trick?’ The smile spread further through Alfie’s face. ‘No. Not re-yally’ Ian shrugged as the echo of the answer tumbled around his mind. ‘We are magicians. And this is a trick’ ‘Don’t mind my brother. He can be bit of an annoying twat sometimes. Actually most of the time’ Andy glared at his brother. ‘How do you guh-ayes do wah-tever that yuh guh-ayes do?’ ‘We observe and connect the dots.’ ‘So yuh mean to say that if yuh take a guh-ad look at me, yuh can tell me how I man-hedged to get myself this f-wine looking whee-lly chariot?’ ‘That would be right’ ‘Go on… make fuh-an of the handicap’ Ian wheezed,

‘Well, Ian, is it okay if I call you Ian? Since you seem to insist’ Alfie continued as he saw the wheelchair bound man nod his head. ‘The braces around your legs are indicative of the fact that either you participated in active combat or you were a victim in a car crash. The worn out Velcro on the braces around your legs suggest that this was either about 6 months ago or replacement for your old ones. But considering how your calf muscles have atrophied behind those pants, it is fair to presume that the braces are a replacement. Which leads me to the question, war OR car crash?’ Alfie smiled cheekily as he looked over to Dominic and his brother for approval. Dominic grinned while Andy continued to stare at the man’s braces. ‘It was a kah-ar cra-ash. And wow! Taht is just bri-lliant.’ Ian replied excitedly. Andy relaxed the knots over his eyebrows. Watching Ian talk was like watching a terminal patient’s EKG and hedging bets on when it would flatline. ‘It really isn’t that great’ Andy finally spoke in a hushed tone. Andy could feel blood rushing to his cheek every time he saw the grey in Ian’s eyes dance like a mirage on a hot summer day, every time Ian smiled and flashed his perfectly white teeth. ‘I ham steel him-prey-sed’ ‘You should be! These boys are best there are’ Dominic beamed proudly. Ian smiled patronizingly at Dominic. ‘Not really. We are not sure what we are. We just like to solve puzzles. Anyway, enough about us, what do you do Ian?’ Andy inquired. ‘I meh-ake toys. For little k-aids’ ‘I suppose that is fun. Making and playing with toys all day along’ ‘I guh-ass. But ee-t geh-ts boring. Do yuh the-ink I can drop buh-aye from t-aim to t-aim and listen to the cuh-asses yuh solve?’ ‘I think that would be nice. We don’t really entertain guests but you seem like a good chap’ Alfie looked over at his brother proudly. Vanity was also Alfie’s weakness. ‘I’ll tell the person who I had in mind to come over to your flat tomorrow at ten. Sounds good?’ Dominic queried. ‘Sounds good. But you know what will sound perfect?’ Alfie questioned Dominic with a wicked smile. ‘What?’ Andy and Dominic both chimed. ‘Another round!’ Alfie grinned, before turning towards Ian, ‘Why don’t you come over tomorrow at ten? Andy and I can tell you about the last big case we solved’ ‘S-hounds abs-loot-ly die-light-fool’ Ian replied, chuffed with the invitation. ‘And maybe you can get us one of your toys for us to play with. You are not the one who gets bored’ Alfie smiled as he watched Dominic walk back towards them with refilled glasses. I still have the same problem as I did with the last draft. Andy seems like he’s ENTIRELY Alfie’s foil. He brings nothing to the table, and is basically this prissy little princess. Even the bartender hates him. And Alfie is insufferable, so I want Andy to be relatable. He’s a gay fruitcake, but that don’t matter as long as he’s relatable in some way, and also smart in his own way. Like his brother is a horrible savant, but Andy should be a master of understanding people’s emotions and motivations. You’re getting there with his description of how he gets a chill when he sees psychoIvan smile and what not, but it would do with so much more meat. What is Andy good at?!

3 “Idleness, we are accustomed to say, is the root of all evil. To prevent this evil, work is recommended… Idleness as such is by no means a root of evil; on the contrary, it is truly a divine life, if one is not bored…” — Søren Kierkegaard (Either/Or: A Fragment of Life)

When you live and work alone long enough, you either get forgotten by the rest of the world or are called in for a special sort of ostracisation. Eugene Francois had been promoted to the rank of Superintendent, to not only commend his service under conditions of severe duress, but also to buy his silence. The kidnapping and murder case of the Costello kid had threatened to expose the corrupt and power hungry servants of the state. Head of Department X had been missing and there was no news about Superintendent Roth’s whereabouts. The higher authorities to be had decided that promoting Eugene would help deal with the bitter questions which the media and the public were asking for the time being. 
Memos were hurriedly dictated, made copies of and secretly shared with others, memos which were meant to decide the fate of Department X. They couldn’t close the department down, not after the glorious puff pieces which were written in praise of Eugene and his fine detective skills, what they could do was to sight budgetary constraints when questions from the Media and Eugene were posed to give them more man power and discretionary powers on the cases which Department X could work on. Directives had been issued to all the rest of the departments to collate and submit their list of things they wished to unload of their unsolved slush pile. And this slush pile was then ceremoniously dumped in the secluded warehouse, which once upon a time was home to imported schezwan noodles and assorted Chinese sauces. 
Eugene did not possess the requisite suaveness and smartness one needed to sidestep the intricate complexities and resulting backlash of backroom office politics unlike his now deceased and disgraced superior. Eugene was born to a simple French grocer and a tailor and brought with him the same simple work ethics he had seen his parents live and work with. 
Though there was only person who moaned and whined about old, cold and trivial cases being offloaded at the front steps of Department X. And that person was Detective Inspector Manpreet Singh. 
‘Here comes another batch of old case files. What do those guys want us to do with them?’ Manny exasperatedly quizzed Eugene.

‘Sign here’ the man in the courier uniform spoke to Manny as he motioned his finger and thrust the clipboard in front of Manny. ‘File them I suppose. And then probably solve them if you feel like it Manny’ Eugene chuckled, as he picked up another carton of files, the bottom of which seemed to be a festering grounds for all sorts of creatures which inhabited a neglected refrigerator. Eugene could understand Manny’s reluctance to work long hours. It had just been over a year since Manny had gotten married to his long time sweet heart, Shanti. What did surprise Eugene was the fact, that Manny still seemed to retain the hop and skip in his walk when he tottered into office every single morning with a giant annoying smiled plastered over his face. But by lunch time, Manny’s homesickness seemed to overtake his happy go lucky disposition and by the end of the day his manner was ruder and more like Danny Dyer. ‘Look at this! Somebody pissed and vandalized a couple of graves, so their family filed a police report. And the case is still unsolved’ Manny yelled as he watched the courier man tuck the pen into his breast pocket. Eugene raised an eyebrow as he looked over at Manny. It was very unlike Manny, the sweet, soft spoken and often daft Manny to use such strong language. ‘What case is that?’ Eugene inquired as he kept the box of files on his table. He still hadn’t moved into his ex-boss’s office. Even Mrs. Roth, Eugene’s ex-boss’s wife had come and collected all of her ex-husband’s personal belongings, Eugene still felt a cold shiver run up his spine every time he stepped into his office. For now, the two of them, Eugene and Manny were using that office and every other bit of space they could find to store the case files which seemed to magically reappear every morning. ‘I have no idea. The file was lying on top of the others. It was just sticking out with the pages all crumpled. The case is so old that the original detective who was assigned to this case’s name is all smudged and erased’ Manny replied as he flipped through the reasonably sized file. ‘What do you mean original?’ Eugene inquired as he limped over where Manny was standing. ‘Well, I am not a hot shot superintendent like you, but I can read you know. It means that there was more than one officer assigned to this case and yet… This case remains unsolved’ Manny replied sarcastically as he flipped through the pages in the file. ‘Oh shut up Manny! You are beginning to annoy me now… What time is it?’ Eugene replied as he took the file from Manny’s hand. Eugene preferred Manny’s daft early morning self better than the smart arsed lip giving Sardar he was in the evenings. Even though Eugene and Manny were Detective Inspectors when they had joined Department X, the Costello case had pushed Eugene ahead in terms of superiority. Eugene knew that Manny held no grudge for the double promotion he received, and that Manny was happy in his own sweet world and liked to stay behind a desk and go back to his domestic life at the sharp stroke of six in the evening. A promotion would have only ruined Manny’s routine, but Manny’s truant needs and moaning about missing his wife sometimes annoyed Eugene to no end. ‘Two minutes to six. Shanti said that she will make my favorite Palak Paneer tonight. Eugene why don’t you get married? It is so nice to come back home and find Shanti already back home from her work.’ Manny replied dreamily, half forgetting the dour mood he was in just couple of seconds back. ‘Manny… I would love to have gotten married. But you see Shanti is already married to you, and I don’t think it is fair on you that she cooks for me and you’ Eugene joked as he cursorily glanced through the file and flattened the crumpled pages in the file. ‘Not funny Eugene. Not funny. And look! It is time for me to go back home and to my loving wife. And judging by that look you have on your face, I suspect you are going to spend another couple of hours in office’ Manny replied triumphantly as he packed his lunch boxes in his satchel. ‘Au revior… and bring your cheery self back in here around O eight hundred hours. Sharp’ Eugene replied as he immersed him with the file about the vandalized graves. ‘Like the sailors say, Aye! Aye Captain’ Manny replied as he bowed and strutted out of the door. ‘Sailors salute… Not bow’ Eugene muttered as he nervously flipped through the page of the file. A knot had formed in his stomach and was sinking fast as he tried making out the original officer’s name and signature. It was signed Roth. Every year for the last twelve years, the graves were vandalized on August the 3rd. The same explicit message was drawn on them. And on one occasion where one of the families of the vandalized graves had insisted that the crime tech unit arrive at the scene and take samples, it was discovered that the graves were indeed urinated upon. Eugene smiled for the first time since he had been double promoted to the rank of Superintendent and made in charge of Department X. This was just the sort of cases Eugene liked getting his hands on. He knew he had to call in on the conjoined twins, they had proved invaluable in the Costello Kid case. He hoped that the case would excite them as much as he was excited about it. The last time he had met them was at Manny’s wedding where he had shown them the newspaper clipping from the Caribbean’s about Roth’s death. What was interesting and what piqued Eugene’s interest in the case was the fact that, the person who had vandalized and defiled the place of the living dead had done so despite a twenty four hour vigil being maintained on the said date and on the said graves. And only these eight graves had been targeted for the last couple of years now and the police still had no clue about who was behind it. Eugene noted down the names and other details in his notebook. • Peter Hailey; Age 36; Male; White; Stock broker; Died in a car accident. Was driving under influence. Insurance refused to pay. 1951 – 1987 • Naoko Higashino; Age 37; Female; Asian ; Housewife; Died after slipping on the bathroom floor and cracked her skull open. 1951 – 1988 • Susan Olsen; Age 36; Female; White; Nurse; Died in a cycling accident. 1953 – 1989 • Karan Kapoor; Age 56; Male; Indian; Teacher; Suicide (depression). 1934 - 1990 Eugene looked over the list of names, there didn’t seem to be anything connecting these four people, three of them were in their thirties. They all worked in different jobs. There was nothing which connected them outright. Eugene knew he had to dig deeper to find the connection. There was a connection which connected these four people, of that he was sure. Eugene peered over the crime scene photos and found that the names on the tombstones had been blacked out. It was like the person responsible for vandalizing the graves wanted to erase the very existence of the dead. Eugene looked up from his file and searched for his cane. The fatal day when he had confronted Roth about his role in the Costello Kid’s kidnap and murder case had left him with an eternal limp. He finally spotted the cane resting against Manny’s desk. Eugene ambled over, resting his posterior against the corner of Manny’s desk and looked at his watch before dialing the number for McManus pub. ‘Bonsoir Dominic? Are the twins there?’ Eugene spoke into the phone as he straightened his shirt cuff. ‘Yes? Yeah they are here. Who is this?’ Dominic’s gruff voice broke through from the other end. ‘This is Eugene.’ ‘Oh! Why didn’t you say so before? Let me get them right over.’ ‘Merci!’ Eugene replied while picturing Dominic’s wide grin. He knew the twins would be as excited about this case as he was. It had been too long a time since Eugene had a decent case to solve. And there was just something absurdly weird about the case of the defiled and vandalized graves that excited him. He was not wrong.
‘Eugene?’ Andy questioned. ‘Oui! I think I have a puzzle which might excite you guys. You guys are at McManus right?’ ‘Yeah… but Alfie is in a condition where he has stopped making any sort of sense. Come home tomorrow morning. Hopefully Alfie is not suffering from his legendary hangovers.’ ‘D’accord! I will see you in the morning before I go to office’ Eugene hung up the phone. He needed a drink as well. ‘New case?’ Alfie slurred as he rolled and leaned his head against his brother’s. ‘I guess so’

4 “I will hurt you for this. I don’t know how yet, but give me time. A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you’ll know the debt is paid.” – George R.R. Martin

Richard Salvatore opened his eyes. The discharge from his eyes had hardened and was blurring his vision. Richard blinked couple of times to try and move aside the heavy shroud of drug induced sleep which blankets one’s body. The light was too harsh for him to keep his eyes open, the constant blinking didn’t help either. He tried to move onto his back and wipe away the crust which had formed at the corners of his eyes. But he couldn’t. The terrifying realization soon crept up his mind and flooded his soul. The scream which emanated from his throat was nothing but a mere croak. 

The scream soon turned into desperate inarticulate and silent sobs crying out for help. Richard Salvatore, former physics high school teacher, found himself lying on his left side, stark naked and glued to the cold hard floor. His feet were spread just wide apart so that they both made contact with the floor. His right hand was glued from the forearm down to his palm. His left hand was folded with the elbow pointing over his head and glued down. The only mobility he had was in the index finger, middle finger and the thumb of his left hand. The rest of his hand was glued down in such a manner that the mobile fingers almost reached his mouth but not quite. As Richard sobbed and slobbered over the floor, he recognized the stench of the day old urine and feces. Having been a resident of an old age retirement with not enough funds, and staffed with young inexperienced volunteers, one gets used to these sights and smells. But Richard Salvatore had prided himself in not letting his dignity become a subject of discussion in the nurse’s canteen. Richard Salvatore tried to open his eyes, but all he could do was squint. The light shone directly at his face. After what seemed like hours, he finally decided to let go and rest his head against what he recognized to be a concrete block placed in the middle of the room. His head was glued to it. Every single sinew in his body hurt and felt like his body was on fire. He had tried to move his face away from the concrete block, but his face wouldn’t let go of the concrete block. He finally resigned and continued to cry in pain and desperation. The tears stopped but he continued to cry and continued to watch the involuntary dribble form a stalactite from his mouth to a slightly smaller step attached to the block of concrete. ‘Ah! I see that the esteemed Mr. Salvatore has finally decided to wake up from his sleep’ The voice mocked from beyond the light. ‘What? What do you want? Who are you?’ Richard Salvatore’s parched voice bleated between sobs. ‘Now. Now. Patience. No need to hurry Mr. Salvatore. I have waited for so long for this day. Let me cherish it for a moment. You will be made aware of everything Mr. Salvatore, as the day of reckoning arrives closer. This is just the beginning. And the end is not too far away. You are the lucky first one to get the best seat in the house. The others are going to be envious of you. I can tell. And as you can tell, you are glued to the floor. And not just any ordinary glue for you Mr. Salvatore. This is industrial strength glue. You would appreciate the manner in which you have been glued to your final resting place Mr. Salvatore, involved a lot of physics and laws of bio – mechanical motion. Once a day, you will be given gruel to drink and your medicine. I wouldn’t want you to die so soon. And I see that you have visited your WC facilities. The coming days are going to be super exciting Mr. Salvatore. And I promise you, it will be all worthwhile. Now, till the others join you, I have devised a little game, just for you and me. I call this game, Bambi caught in the headlights. Now be a sport and play along. You have to keep your eyes open every time the lights switch on and when I switch off the light, well I don’t really care what you do when I switch off the lights. Let. Us. Play.’ The voice bounced around the room and in Richard Salvatore’s distraught mind. Richard Salvatore found his eyes dehydrated from all the sobbing, his mind trying to make sense of what the voice had said. He tried opening his eyes long enough to ascertain the source of light, but the ruthless and relentless glare of the light was too much for him to look into. He shut his eyes tightly, but the warmth from the light source still warmed his eye lids. And then suddenly there was darkness. His eyelids suddenly felt like they were washed with cool water. Richard opened his eyes, but he could still see balls of dull colored lights dancing in front of him. He recognized those immediately as being part of the Photopsia phenomenon. He had taught this to his students every year till he retired. Before he could adjust his vision to the darkness the light shone brightly, almost blinding him and he reflexively shut his eyes. The same routine continued for another, what Richard Salvatore calculated to be roughly forty minutes. Then the voice spoke again and didn’t turn the lights off. ‘Tut. Tut. Tut. Mr. Salvatore, I did ask you to play along now. But not surprised. I did expect some sort of resistance from you. Now I will have to do a little show and tell’ Richard could hear heavy footsteps walking towards him. The man stood in front of the light, shielding his eyes from its harsh warmth and blocking the blinding light. Richard saw the man’s heavy leather shoes. The man kneeled just low enough for Richard to look at the man’s face from the corner of his eyes. The man’s face was covered with a welder’s shield. ‘I was hoping to avoid this. But I think I am going to enjoy this.’ The voice spoke from behind the welder’s shield. The voice sounded muffled but familiar. The man was dressed in a grey butcher’s apron and matching gloves. Richard tried jogging his memory and tried to match the voice with a face. But he was tired and his age-diminished mental facilities were called to attention when he saw the man grab hold his left hand’s ring finger which was glued right in front of his face. The man then took a small injection and injected the solution at the glue bond between his skin and the block of concrete. He had spent enough time with his colleagues in the chemistry lab for him to recognize the smell of acetone and its effects on industrial glue. The smell was strong and Richard tried to control the sense of nausea which seemed to settle down in his guts and threatened to explode any moment. The man waited patiently before he slowly and gently shook the ring finger free from its bondage and then repeated the process with his victim’s little finger. The freed fingers stung as blood resumed coursing through them at regular speeds. Richard flexed his palm into a fist and aided the blood flow. It was then that Richard understood the man with the welder’s shield’s plan. The man tried unclenching Richard’s fist, but when Richard wouldn’t relent. The man took a small jewelers hammer from his back pocket and stuck sharply on Richard’s knuckles. This new and sharp pain dulled every other pain Richard’s body was experiencing at this point of time. Richard clenched his fist tighter as he screamed in pain. ‘Now, Mr. Salvatore, like the age old movie cliché goes… We can do this the easy way… Or…’ The man didn’t bother completing the statement. ‘Open your hands Mr. Salvatore. Please’ The menace in the man’s voice was unmistakable. Richard could almost see the sneer behind that welder’s shield and through his pain. Richard screamed, begged and pleaded as he opened his palm. ‘There is no point fight Mr. Salvatore. You know I worked in a morgue. And dead bodies offer more resistance than you would expect. Though the dead don’t really tell you how much it hurts. They don’t yell. They don’t scream. They don’t cry. I must say that watching you writhe around like this deeply satisfying’ The man continued speaking through gritted teeth as Richard tried to move his body to retaliate and stop what he knew was inevitable, but his skin was firmly glued. Calmly the man held Richard’s recently freed ring finger between his index finger and his thumb. The index finger held his victim’s finger in place as his thumb pushed against it with precise and calculated force. No amount of screaming from Richard would be enough to drown the loud sneering and joy the man behind the welder’s shield seemed to derive from this form of torture. The controlled force was being used to exact maximum pain. The man with the welder’s shield pushed the finger back and forth, going slightly beyond the threshold of human flexibility with every single push. Despite Richard’s painful screams, and the man behind the welder’s shield’s menacing laugh, the distinct crack of his fingers echoed across the empty room. The sea of nausea and pain induced darkness enveloped him. ‘That is enough!’ a shrill boyish voice rang out from the corner of the room. And that was the last thing Richard remembered before he woke again was the now familiar harsh warmth and the blinding light.

When Richard finally did wake up, full forty eight hours had passed by. Richard had long stopped giving a damn about the time of the day or the day of the week, especially, after he admitted himself in the old age retirement home. He found his hand bandaged, a bowl of gruel placed in front of his face and a spoon placed between his thumb and index finger. A tilted bottle of water was placed with a straw next to the spoon. The unfamiliar feeling of claustrophobia gripped Richard. After what seemed ages, Richard finally managed to slow down his breathing and open his eyes again and survey the scene in front of him. He could see two brightly colored pills, which he hoped were painkillers, were slowly making their way down the dark brown colored inedible goop. But something didn’t feel right. Something was different this time around. Richard couldn’t immediately recognize the absence of the harsh blinding light. The room was illuminated enough for him to open his eyes and take in his surroundings. Finally Richard’s roving eye found the light source. The light was coming from one of those surgical lights which dentists used. And it was placed with the light shining away from his face. And from where he was lying, he could tell that he had company. Just like what the man with the welder’s shield had promised. Unadulterated fear works much like acid. It is capable of demolishing and corroding any and all of a man’s beliefs. It is unflinching in the way it burns and eats away at a man’s soul. The mind paralyzes itself like a leafy vegetable stacked at a farm sale. The body conspires to relinquish control to fear, the bowels and the bladder relieve themselves of any weight which it feels may slow the body’s escape. Fear is the hallucinogen which clouds the vision with lucid images of the Promised Land. The Shakespearean eternal sleep seems like the only antidote to the debilitating and gut wrenching effects of fear. Richard didn’t know how long he had or what other pain from hell was in store for him. Richard couldn’t help but feel the cold salty tears creep out his eyes and cover his face like wild vines growing over a decrepit wall. Richard closed his eyes and moaned in desperation. He was feeling cold, tired and was in great physical pain. His skin twitched and he was made aware of his nakedness. He felt preyed upon and devoid of any semblance of dignity. The cold voice echoed in his mind. It wasn’t the harshness in the voice which troubled Richard. It was the niggling feeling that he knew who the voice belonged to. If only Richard could place the voice with the face. And then there was the other voice which had yelled at the man with the welder’s shield. The high pitched shrill, he had almost forgotten. No! It couldn’t be him! Richard thought as fought with his consciousness, denying entry to the marauding stream of pictures which flooded his mind. He just wished for the pain to end.

This is nice. I think I’ve told you this before, but torture scenes or scenes with creeping fear are your speciality. And this one has come out just when it was needed.

5 “I suppose it’s not a social norm, and not a manly thing to do — to feel, discuss feelings. So that’s what I’m giving the finger to. Social norms and stuff… What good are social norms, really? I think all they do is project a limited and harmful image of people. It thus impedes a broader social acceptance of what someone, or a group of people, might actually be like.” – Jess C. Scott

Crippling uncertainty of the future and lustful thoughts about another person are the only two reasons which are capable of making a man feel tired and drained out of all his energies, yet not allowing him to request asylum under the dome of sleep infested eyelids.
Andy had spent the whole night staring at the ceiling and replayed the reel of images, he had in his mind’s projector of Ian Saxenholdt. Andy tried to read translated works of Greek poets from the Hellenistic Age, but the sonnets describing the special occasions didn’t help. The beauty described in the poems seemed to capture all the tumultuous joy Andy experienced in his gut, exploding like a rabble of butterflies in spring season. But it still seemed to leave behind a concave of unarticulated emotions which Andy was experiencing.
Time has the uncanny ability to hurry along when you are lost in thought, marveling the beauty of another human. It was soon morning, again. Andy switched off the night lamp on his side of the single bed and looked over his brother. Alfie was sound asleep with his mouth slightly ajar, giving way to the alcohol fueled stream of drool to trickle itself down his chin. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of envy as he wiped away at his brother’s face and smeared the viscous saliva across his brother’s vest.
Andy didn’t want to wake his brother up, he still needed time to arrive at a plan which would allow him to spend time with Ian and yet not let his affections be made known to his brother. Andy’s mind replayed the first time he was aware of the fact that he liked men.

Mr. Ayres, Andy and Alfie’s father had hired the services of a doctor to come and regularly check on their mother. The pain and shock of giving birth to conjoined twins had been too much for the old woman to take and process. She had soon stopped taking her meals as well and preferred to spend her time locked inside her room. The twins were raised by their nanny, Mrs. Moss. The twins were not allowed to enter the house, except for morning breakfast with their father who heard Mrs. Moss report about the twin’s behavior. The boys weren’t aware of the doctor’s visits till one fine morning. Andy still remembered the day, date and the exact moment when he had first laid his eyes on the doctor. It was exactly a week after their thirteenth birthday, which they had celebrated by cutting an upside down pineapple cake which Mrs. Moss had baked herself. Their father had wished them in the evening after he returned from his work and then retired back to his room. The doctor had greeted their father in the morning and immediately rushed into their mother’s room. The twins had gotten used to the occasional sounds of screaming and things being thrown around in her room. On that day, the screams were a lot higher and things were being thrown about more than usual. It was in that brief instant that the boys craned their necks at the rare intrusion. While Alfie could only catch a glimpse of the doctor from the corner of his eyes, Andy managed to get an eyeful, and the sight sent blood rushing to his cheeks. As the years went by, and the occasional sight of certain type of men, the way they smiled from the photographs published in the newspapers often caused Andy to blush involuntarily. He couldn’t help but keep staring at the picture and without any warning he would wake up from a dream filled sleep, covered in sweat and the muscle between the twin’s body stiff. Alfie had inquired about the pain and stiffness. When Andy’s response had not satisfied his curiosity, they posed the question to Mrs. Moss. Mrs. Moss, a closet bible thumper, was just liberal enough to let the boys in to the secret of self help. Their nanny had suggested self relief knowing well that the boys would never get to feel the warmth of a woman’s touch, not with the way they looked. Smart and handsome faces, the mesh of flesh and bones under their clothes was too grotesque for anybody to run their hands on that cursed body. The suggestion had embarrassed Andy to no length while Alfie believed it to be a possibility of infinite fun. On one of the many nights when the twins shared their dreams and aspirations with each other as they spent reading different books, they agreed on when and where they would be allowed to indulge. As the boys grew older, the involuntary stiffness in the mornings caused a certain bit of awkwardness. But they had found a workaround to that problem.

Andy looked over at the wall clock, it was close to eleven in the morning and Alfie was slowly waking up. Just then Andy heard a hard persistent knocking on the front door of their studio apartment. Andy looked over at the time, even though the knocking seemed similar to a postman’s knock, Andy knew that the postman preferred slipping the post under the door. It couldn’t be Eugene, Andy reasoned. Eugene would have had the common sense to have called first. Andy suddenly realized that it might be Ian. Alfie had drunkenly invited him over in the morning. But Andy knew that it would be almost next to impossible for Ian to climb two floors and knock on their studio apartment. Andy got up, forcing Alfie to walk along with him to the front door. Alfie walked sleepily as directed by his brother, resting his head against his brother’s and mumbling about hating people who wouldn’t let him sleep. Andy opened the door and was greeted by a flushed faced dark haired woman standing behind Ian’s wheelchair. ‘Hello! Good morning! We are here!’ Ian beamed from his wheelchair. Goose pimples spread across Andy’s skin like a cobbled street. ‘Well? Can we come in?’ The woman demanded assertively as she pushed Ian past Andy and Alfie. Andy tried to answer assuredly while Alfie opened his eyes to notice the woman brush past him and into the cramped living room in their studio apartment. ‘And you are?’ ‘Eva. Could I get some water?’ She replied as she wiped the sweat off her neck and took off her jacket. Andy pointed to the bottle of water kept on the open kitchen counter. ‘Eva?’ Alfie looked on quizzically at Ian who was smiling and patting his hair down in order to look presentable to his new employers on his first day of work. Andy tried hard not to stare at Ian, but he failed miserably as Ian flashed his crooked smile. Andy noted the denim jacket, orthodontic leather shoes and the checked cotton shirt Ian wore with the top two buttons left open and the collars just spread wide enough for Andy to gaze at the hair growing on Ian’s chest. ‘Ah! Yes! She is the per-son Doh-min-hic was tall-king about. She hell-yelped me come up the stay-airs’ Ian answered Alfie’s unspoken question. ‘You guys should really invest in making those stairs more handicap friendly you know’ Eva replied between taking huge gulps of water. The blood receded from her face and her face turned to its normal intended whisky brown. ‘Well, we’ll make note of that then. Will speak with Mr. Robbins about that’ Alfie replied as he stretched and yawned. ‘Oh! Look at me. Hello! My name is Andrew and he is my brother Alfred. I am really sorry for my brother. Let me put the kettle on. Coffee? Tea?’ Andy blushed as he looked at Ian and posed the question. ‘T-yea is nice’ Ian answered with an even bigger smile. Andy could feel the ground below his knees beginning to wobble. ‘I will have a cup of coffee. Thank you! And I believe you know my uncle?’ Eva inquired in retaliation to Alfie’s unflinching gaze at her. Dominic had told Eva about the twin’s physical appearance, but she didn’t quite expect them to have such pretty looking faces. They were identical yet different. The face on the right was soft with delicate features and was clean shaven. The face on the left was more rugged with couple of days old stubble growing on it. She could make out the thin scar running alongside the left side of his rugged cheek. She had already formed her opinions about the two. Andrew = Baby. Alfred = Asshole. ‘We do?’ Andy reflexively replied as he kept looking over at Ian who had wheeled himself over to the one bit of the apartment which was wasn’t covered with clothes, books or other assorted items. ‘Dominic said you guys were detectives or something of that sort. I am not really bothered about that. All I want to know is what sort of job do you guys have in mind for me?’ Eva spoke as she finally looked around and took in her surroundings. ‘Well, before we tell you about the job, first get started by telling us, who you are and more importantly why did Dominic send you here?’ Alfie replied, still sleepy and groggy from last night’s drinking. All this talking in the morning was beginning to annoy him and his headache wasn’t helping him either. Alfie loved his morning routine and hated it when it was disturbed. The morning routine was that when the twins woke up, Alfie would make himself a cup of coffee, black with two sugars. Andy would make himself a cup of tea, the choice and flavor of tea would depend entirely on the way Andy felt that morning. ‘Well, I am Manpreet Singh’s niece. I suppose you know him as Manny. I had just moved in from London and was looking out for a job. And I am not sure why Dominic thought I would be suited for this job. But my uncle had suggested that I speak with Dominic. He told me you were looking for a secretary and the timings were flexible and the pay was decent’ Eva glanced around the studio apartment and continued, ‘Looking at the state of this place, I think you need a housekeeper more than a secretary.’ ‘Ah! Manny! How is he? It has been quite some time since we saw him. And you are his niece? You look about the same age as him’ Andy replied, as he supervised the kettle and laid out the cups on a tray. ‘Well, my father got married very early. And everybody in India calls everybody else as brother, sister or uncle and aunt’ Eva replied to Andy’s question, as he gently made his way to what Alfie referred to the dining table, carefully balancing the tray with the two cups of tea and two cups of coffee. ‘Well, since you seem to know what to do. I suggest that you get started right after you finish drinking your coffee.’ Alfie grumpily spoke as he stretched his hand over his head like a cat. Alfie continued, ‘And you can get started by cleaning the flat. Do not touch the books on the left side of the bed. And I will speak with Dominic about the timings and the pay later today in the evening. And yes, we are detectives or something of that sort as you so eloquently put it. And you arrived from London five. No. Six weeks back. Abusive and alcoholic husband I suppose. You moved here to start a new life. And I appreciate that, reminds me of Andy and me moving out of our house to do something of our own. I hope I have made things clear. If you have any questions or issues, talk to Andy here.’ Alfie ended his long monologue by lighting up his cigarette. The first one since he opened his eyes, delayed by twenty odd minutes. ‘But? How?’ Eva gapingly tried to form sentences and then gave up as she saw Andy shake his head and silently mouth an apology for his brother’s condescending tone. Ian just grinned like a Cheshire cat. She tried guessing and asking Andy how his brother could have known all those things about her, but gave up when Ian told her about his meeting with the twins the previous day at the McManus Pub. Eva finished her coffee and began her work, unsure about how and what she should feel about all the things Alfie said.

Eva’s firebrand style of housekeeping earned her the right to carry a copy of the twin’s flat’s keys and Alfie’s annoyance by the end of her first day at work. Eva, unlike her employers was a hard worker, a trait which she had been instilled with since she was a young girl in Patiala, Punjab. A time so long back, that Eva was called Loveleen Gill.
Mr. Gill was a fairly well to do farmer. He owed his staggering height to his gene pool, but the rest of his brawny stature and deep baritone was credited to him working long hours on the fields. When Mr. Gill turned the ripe age of 24, his father decided that he should experience the joys of marital life. Before one could finish saying ‘Shaadi Mubarakan’, the way Punjabis wish ‘Congratulations on your wedding’, Mr. Gill Jr. was married to Mrs. Gill. Mrs. Gill came from old money, and was accompanied by the much coveted Regency TR-1 transistor radio, three kilos of assorted gold, and five pairs of bull and oxen which helped sweeten the deal between the two families. Despite Mr. Gill’s ignorance and naivety with the human reproduction system, he managed to wear out the new cot and ten months into their marriage, Mr. and Mrs. Gill managed to not only conceive but also give birth to a healthy baby girl. Mr. Gill was so elated by this news that he threw an exorbitantly lavish naming ceremony for his first born. A naming ceremony so extravagant, that the guest list included anybody and everybody who had a cent to their name and didn’t. Relatives and neighbours made their way to eat the sumptuous spread laid out and down the copious amounts of alcohol. The girl was named Loveleen Gill. Mr. and Mrs. Gill had enjoyed the baby making process so much that the couple went through a dozen cots, conceived fourteen times, out of which they were able to successfully give birth to heirs half the number of times. They finally put an end to the fun times when Mr. Gill could no longer find it in him to be excited about closed doors and broken beds. Mr. Gill blamed it on the constant bawling of the kids and Mrs. Gill’s excuses of being tired. Loveleen was the eldest and the only girl. It was expected of her to help out her mother and play second mother to her seven brothers. She did a reasonably remarkable job of handling the weight of expectations and the burden of being born as a girl in India. Loveleen had grown up and filled out the molds of conventional beauty. Blessed with good genes from either side of her family, it was no surprise that Mr. and Mrs. Gill’s post was soon filled with poems written about Loveleen’s beauty. Her high cheekbones, the scent of her womanhood, the enormous perplexity men felt in their beings when they saw Loveleen’s bosom heave as she breathed like a majestic tide. Before long, Mr. and Mrs. Gill had arranged for Loveleen’s marriage to Parminder Singh Badal, a rich albeit young divorcee from London. Something which Mr. and Mrs. Gill were unaware of, despite their casual scrutinizing of their son in law’s background and bank account. Among the other things the Gill family were unaware of was Parminder Singh Badal’s inability to say no to a game of cards, drinks and fair skinned memsahibs who strolled the streets at Whitechapel, London and offered their company for food and coins. Loveleen was not well versed with speaking in English, even though Mr. and Mrs. Gill had employed the services of an English tutor to give Loveleen a crash course in speaking and behaving like an English Memsahib. Having lived in London for years, Parminder Singh Badal had quite forgotten the fury, resilience and patience which earmark a Punjabi woman from the rest of the world. Loveleen bid her time, practicing her English with the house help before she finally discovered feminism in the form of Ava Gardner. The constant derision, taunts and her husband’s refusal to touch her and consummate their relationship continued; despite her best efforts to channel Ava Gardner to save her marriage. Her attempts were met with the whipping action of Parminder’s leather belt and blatant show of his love for the white skinned women who smelled of cheap perfume and even cheaper liquor on their breath. It was no surprise that the more stories she heard about Ava Gardner, the more Loveleen was convinced that she was Ava herself. Before long, news of their daughter’s plight reached Mr. and Mrs. Gill, who immediately saw to it that she was shipped away from London. On her journey to Dresden Da Cunha, Loveleen made up her mind to never feel helpless or be dependent on somebody else, just like how Ava Gardner was. And she vowed never to speak of her past ever again.

The twins were busy talking to Ian about their previous experiences, starting with why they had decided to call themselves Al & An rather than An & Al. The twins had laughed uproariously at the inside joke while Eva and Ian looked on embarrassed. The stories which the twins shared made for a riveting listen. Eva was busy cleaning and sorting the kitchen whilst listening to the twin’s exploits, when Andy asked her if she would mind making another round of tea of coffee for them. As she put the kettle on the stove and looked outside her window, breathing in the stale tobacco smell which hung around the studio apartment like a tapestry, she thought she saw someone open and close the picketed gate. Sure enough, there was a knock on the door, which she promptly answered. And there stood before her, a blonde man dressed in a dark royal blue colored suit. All thoughts about her past and Alfie’s behavior went scuttling out her mind as she reciprocated the man’s smile. ‘Bonjour!?’ Eugene greeted with a smile which was soon replaced with a quizzical frown. Eugene tried his best to recover his wits, but was sure that the woman standing in front of him had noticed his failure to hide his surprise. Surprise that the first knock on the twin’s door had been answered. Surprise that there was a woman standing in the doorway. ‘Yes?’ Eva questioned the stranger standing in front of the door way with a raised eyebrow. Eva had not pegged the twins as being somebody who entertained guests, despite Ian’s presence. Dominic had told her that the only two people they often spoke to were him and their landlord Mr. Robbins. ‘Excusez-moi… My name is Eugene Francois. I am a friend of Alfie and Andy’ Eugene explained as he extended his hands to offer his courtesies to a woman. ‘Ah! Yes.’ Eva joined her hands together like a self high five at chest level and watched the man who spoke with the heavy French accent stand awkwardly with his hand extended before he imitated Eva and bowed like a Buddhist monk offering his gratitude. ‘You have a guest! Also, I am not oriental. We don’t bow.’ Eva chided Eugene as she pushed the door wide open walked over to check on the kettle which was still on the boil. Eugene continued to stand in the doorway, searching for a tiny crack on the floor which he hoped would devour him whole for his faux pas. ‘EUGENE!’ Alfie exclaimed as he hurriedly stubbed his cigarette to greet his friend. ‘What would you like? Coffee? Tea?’ Eva inquired as she readied herself to pour some more water in the kettle for the visitor. ‘Coffee would be nice’ Eugene replied as he finally made up his mind and entered the flat, smiling at Alfie and Andy and looked curiously at the man in the wheelchair. Eugene surveyed the flat and was trying to convince himself that it was the same flat he often visited before he got tied down with administrative duty back at work. He couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t have to go on a treacherous expedition to find a place to sit in 201, Swann Street. Eugene leaned back on the couch vigilantly, half expecting some sort of a creature to pounce on him. He always believed that something with fangs had resided within the upholstery of the couch. As he shook hands with the twins and got introduced to the man in the wheelchair, Eugene hoped that they could also extend the courtesy and introduce him to the woman watching the kettle. Eugene watched the woman’s back as she constantly shifted her gaze from the boiling kettle and staring out the window. He watched the balance of her hips tilt ever so slightly as she rested her weight on her left leg. She was as graceful as a ninja wearing flip flops and she seemed to exude finesse like a young Eliza Doolittle. Her beauty wasn’t striking enough for men to do double takes. But still, she had that quality which let her trespass people’s day dreams and squat in their nightly ones. Eugene heard the twins grumbling about the clatter coming from the kitchen as Eva noisily stirred the coffee and the tea. ‘Oh! Sorry, forgot to ask you if you would like cream with your coffee?’ Eva questioned as she looked over her shoulders towards Eugene, stirring sugar into the five cups placed on the tray. Eugene nodded. ‘So, what brings Superintendent Francois to our humble abode’ Alfie finally spoke as he took a sip from his cup of black coffee and lit up a cigarette. ‘Oui! It has been horrible. So much paper work and no real police work’ Eugene moaned. ‘Well, I am sure you didn’t come to tell us your woes. What were you on about last night about some puzzle for us? Alfie as usual had one too many to drink.’ Andy announced as he mouthed a silent thank you to Eva who had got the cups over to the dining table. ‘Je suis un idiot! Yes… Completely forgot about that… Tout à fait! First tell me how is your practice coming along?’ Eugene smiled as he slapped his forehead carefully, trying to make sure that he didn’t spill any of his coffee on himself as he mockingly reprimanded himself. He still hadn’t made up his mind if it was okay to discuss police business with complete strangers. He still didn’t know the woman’s name. Ian had looked familiar, but Eugene wasn’t sure where he had seen the man before. ‘I whee-ill take yuh-are leave. It was a play-sure tah-king to you fell-owws.’ Ian said as he placed his unfinished cup of tea on the table and proceeded to wheel himself away. ‘No! No! It is perfectly alright. I am sure Eugene wouldn’t mind’ Andy had awkwardly blurted. Alfie noted Eugene’s perplexity in confiding the presence of Eva and Ian. Andy looked on at Ian and smiled as he picked his cup of tea and took a long noisy slurp. Ian caught Andy’s eyes and smiled sheepishly, the smile flooded Andy’s cheeks with blood. ‘Go on… Entertain us!’ Alfie ushered Eugene after the twins took turns to tell him all about cases they had handled since the last case they worked together. As Eugene had finished recalling every detail he had jotted down in his diary, including the names of the four victims. The twins sat back in silence, going over the details and trying to find a place where they could start. ‘Taht is most enter-yeasting. Who wuh-d wan-hut to do taht to the dead?’ Ian remarked. ‘Well, go on… I know that look of yours. You are itching to amaze us. Don’t hold back now’ Andy looked at his brother who was smiling impishly as he helped his brother light up his cigarette. ‘Are you sure, you don’t want to take a first shot at this?’ Alfie inquired as he noisily pulled on his cigarette, trying to hide the smug grin fast spreading across his face. ‘Allez!’ Eugene urged. ‘Well, it is a pity that Eugene hasn’t got the case file with him. But, Eugene could you pass your notebook, I would like to see the names of the four again.’ Alfie watched as Eugene flipped through the pages of his notebook before passing it over to Andy. • Peter Hailey; Age 36; Male; White; Stock broker; Died in a car accident. Was driving under influence. Insurance refused to pay. 1951 – 1987 • Naoko Higashino; Age 37; Female; Asian; Housewife; Died after slipping on the bathroom floor and cracked her skull open. 1951 – 1988 • Susan Olsen; Age 36; Female; White ; Nurse; Died in a cycling accident. 1953 – 1989 • Karan Kapoor; Age 56; Male; Indian; Teacher; Suicide (depression). 1934 - 1990 ‘All these people, barring the Indian dead guy are in their thirties, which means we may need to look for connections from the time these guys were born. Could be the same hospital they were born in, studied in the same school perhaps. As Eugene mentioned, their occupations, cause of death and the date of their death hardly tell us anything. Except…’ ‘Ah! I see what you mean’ Andy nodded as he saw the list. ‘Saw what?’ Eugene inquired as Eva and Ian looked on curiously. ‘Except for Karan Kapoor’s death, suicide, none of the others actually reads like an accidental death. Any of these accidental deaths may not have been accidents after all.’ Alfie continued. ‘But, why not the suicide? To kill somebody and make it look like suicide is one of the easier things to do don’t you think?’ Eugene inquired. Ian nodded along to show that he had the same doubt. ‘Yes! It is. But you see, the others were more planned and more brutal. Making a murder look like suicide is more impulsive. Shows lack of planning to some extent. It doesn’t require much time.’ Andy had added to Alfie’s reasoning as he showed Eugene the list he had made. ‘So you think that all these three people were killed? And after killing them he has been vandalizing their graves? But why? Why would anybody do that? If whoever did kill these people, then why call the attention of others to it?’ Eugene replied as he pushed tobacco in the cigarette paper and rolled it up. He was getting flustered and found that rolling his cigarettes under such situations helped. And watching Alfie light up another cigarette made him want to do the same. ‘We are still not sure if these are not accidents. They may as well be, but if we do assume that they are not. The need to vandalize the graves suggest that he, she, they, whoever it is, are still searching for closure.’ Alfie replied with a serious look on his face. ‘But the dates don’t make sense do they?’ Andy quizzed as he handed back Eugene his notebook. ‘They don’t make sense yet. Eugene, could you see if you could speak with any of their family members and see what else you can find out about how they died and what else they did. Also, could you check why Karan Kapoor was buried? The name sounds Hindu, ideally he should have been cremated.’ ‘Ah! That didn’t strike me’ Eugene made note of it in his notebook. Q) Karan not burned why? Q) Were these people murdered? Or have these two gone mental?

• Ask Manny to find out the address and contact details of the relatives.
• She is really pretty ‘I think we can know more only after you either find more questions or more answers’ Andy replied prophetically as Eugene closed his notebook. ‘Cuh-d yuh he-yelp me get down the stay-airs? And I ham sore-aye. Four-got about the toy. I whee-ill send a-cross one. Promise’ Ian requested as he looked on at Eugene who wore his coat. Eugene smiled as he caught Alfie’s eyes and wheeled Ian out the door and down the stairs.

6 “You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.” — Steve Jobs

‘Okay… He is finally back… I will see you in the evening… Yes! I will ask him about that… I love you too!’ Manny looked at Eugene with an annoying look as he kept the phone receiver back. Eugene couldn’t tell if Manny was annoyed because he could no longer talk to his wife instead of organizing the sea of files which surrounded and overflowed out of Department X or if he was just annoyed with him. ‘Ask me what?’ Eugene questioned as he overheard scratches of Manny’s conversation. ‘I didn’t know it was a come late to office day.’ Manny questioned in return, ignoring Eugene’s question as he looked at his watch disapprovingly. ‘I went to meet the twins’ Eugene answered in his defense. ‘Why?’ Manny asked curiously, wondering what prompted Eugene to pay a visit to them. The mere mention of twins made Manny uncomfortable. The last time the twins were involved in a case, Eugene was left with a limp. ‘Rien… Been getting bored doing all this paper work, thought will go and meet them’ Eugene lied. He was well aware of the rhetoric which would follow, telling him to be careful about dealing with the twins and that the twins spelled trouble, had he told Manny about the real reason for his visit. ‘It is not really that bad’ Manny offered before continuing, ‘I think we can organize and sort these cases out if you tell me what sort of filing system you want to use’ ‘Bien… Here!’ Eugene opened his notebook and flipped to the page where he had noted down the names and details of the eight victims. ‘Find out if these names are there in our records. Get the names and addresses of their family members and see if any of them want to talk’ ‘What should I do about all these files?’ Manny queried as he made a sweeping motion to indicate all the case files which surrounded them like a sea in a cheaply produced school play. ‘Oublier!’ ‘What?’ ‘I said forget about them for now… Treat this as a priority’ Eugene replied as he tapped on the open page of his notebook to emphasize his point. Eugene limped over to his table and opened the case file and studied it once again. Hoping to find something which would either prove what the twins had said or disprove it. It was a good thing that the twins were on his side, he knew his life would have been nothing less than hell if they moved over to the dark side. Eugene chuckled as he replayed the scene from star wars, pretending his walking stick was a light saber for a brief fleeting second. His attention was soon drawn back to the wrinkled set of papers put together in the file. Each time the incident was reported, a new officer had been assigned to the case. Eugene wasn’t surprised. He could picture the detectives on duty pulling short straws to see who would have to answer the call. It was a crass method, but it helped liven up the morale of the overworked and underpaid detectives. At least the detectives had done a good job of canvassing the area and had bothered to file their report about no eye witnesses being around. He was pretty sure that most of the reports about interviews with passersby were cooked up. The more time he spent reading the report and tried visualizing the emotional state of the cop who wrote the report and the emotional state of the witness, the more blurry the words started getting. And before long, Eugene was fast asleep. It was only when Manny tapped him on the shoulder did Eugene wake up with a start. ‘Sorry! How long was I asleep for?’ Eugene inquired as he sat upright and looked around furtively as he tried to make sense of the time gone by. ‘I should say for a good couple of hours… I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked really peaceful. You reminded me of this one picture which my mother had taken of me sleeping as a little kid. Shanti loves that picture. She says that I looked cute in that picture. Now I know what she was talking about’ Manny rattled on mercilessly at poor Eugene’s back who limped over to the water cooler to wash down the grogginess and wet his dry lips. ‘Did you find out anything about those four people?’ Eugene questioned as he emptied the paper cup. ‘Yes. Would you like me to tell you now?’ ‘No!’ Eugene retorted reflexively. His head still felt heavy from the incomplete sleep.
‘Anyway, I have made copies of the reports. These people sure were busy. It is all there in this file’ Manny replied as he waved around the yellow colored file before placing it on Eugene’s desk. ‘Excellent travail! Did you find out about the names and addresses of their relatives?’ ‘Yeah… ’ ‘Et alors? Go on…’ ‘Well only one person was happy to hear that we are finally launching an investigation. I didn’t stop her from thinking that. But the others weren’t keen to talk. They were being… what is that word Shanti uses when people are acting all suspicious and all? Skittle?…Skitty?…Skittish? Skittish… That is the word. They were acting all skittish. And they seem to be pretty powerful people. I had to talk to like at least three people before I could speak to the concerned person.’ ‘Okay… then we will speak with the one who is ready to talk before we go over to the people who were behaving skittish’ Eugene replied as he saw Manny wipe his face with a handkerchief. Eugene wasn’t sure why Manny carried a handkerchief with him. It was then that he saw the bold embroidered letter ‘M’ on the corner of the handkerchief. Eugene didn’t want to ask Manny about the handkerchief or the embroidered letter ‘M’, lest Manny mistook his question as encouragement to share more details about his happily married domestic life. Eugene was scarred enough with the monumental knowledge of the most trivial details pertaining to Manny’s domestic life he already knew about. ‘What do you think about going for a drive?’ Eugene inquired.
‘Go where?’ Manny asked suspiciously. Everybody who knew Manny also knew that he loved sitting behind a desk and hated doing any actual police work or anything which involved any sort of leg work, one of the many reasons why Manny had chosen the Department X posting. ‘We will go pay a visit to some of those people you spoke to’ ‘No. I think I will stay back and finish sorting through these files’ ‘Well… You don’t get a say in this Manny… I am your superior. Now grab your coat and let’s go!’ ‘But…’ Manny tried hard to think of a reason which would make Eugene drop this idea of taking him along for an excursion. But couldn’t. ‘Se dépêcher!’ Eugene chuckled as he watched Manny grumble and pout as he ordered him to hurry up.

‘So what are you supposed to ask me?’ Eugene replied as he shifted the gears on his car. ‘Huh?’ ‘You were talking to Shanti over the phone when I entered office and you said, you will ask him. Him is me right?’ Eugene looked over to Manny, wondering for a split second if Manny was really talking to his wife or some other floozy, before deciding that Manny didn’t have it in him to be a libertine.
‘Oh! Yeah… She wanted me to invite you over for dinner. But now I am thinking that it may not be such a good idea’ ‘Allez! Why not?’ ‘Because we are not in office sorting, organizing and filing all those case files which headquarters have decided to dump at our doorstep’ ‘Why do you love sitting behind a desk?’ Eugene inquired as he slowed the car at the traffic intersection. He looked left and then right and then left again before slowly easing the gear into place and pushed his feet against the accelerator steadily like a good responsible citizen. ‘I don’t know! Why do you love going out and looking at grisly crime scenes?’ ‘Well, we are not going to any crime scene. Remember we have been told by HQ to refrain from conducting any investigation of any sorts’ ‘I don’t know why you speak like that is a bad thing.’ ‘I don’t know if it is a bad thing or not yet. Anyway fill me in on the conversation you had with this person on the phone’ ‘Spoke to Karan Kapoor’s wife. Because you know she is also of Indian origin and I am also of Indian origin. So I spoke to her first. She is now Mrs. Dhillon.’ ‘Continuer’ ‘She was extremely nice. But the talk about her husband made her cry, poor thing. I felt sad for her.’ ‘Manny?’ Eugene interrupted Manny’s melodramatic narration of his conversation with the erstwhile Mrs. Kapoor now Mrs. Dhillon. ‘Yeah?’ ‘Are the Kapoors Hindu?’ ‘Why do you ask?’ ‘Because aren’t Hindus supposed to cremate their dead instead of burying them?’ ‘Did they bury their son? That is weird!’ Manny’s eyebrows involuntarily knotted themselves, as he tried to think of a plausible explanation for Eugene’s question. ‘Didn’t you think it would be of some importance to find that out?’ ‘It slipped out of my mind. We are anyway going to meet her, why don’t you ask that yourself? And stop taking that tone with me. Also, why are you so keen on knowing all this? Also, why are we investigating something which happened couple of years ago?’ ‘We are not investigating. Non! Whatever we are doing, is not investigating. We are just asking questions and seeing if there is any truth behind the story’ ‘And that is not what investigating a case means?’ ‘Non!’ Eugene smiled conspiratorially at Manny who seemed to scratch his head, trying to grasp on his role in the whole situation. ‘Do you know why Hindus burn their dead?’ Manny questioned as he tried to change the topic to something which he knew about. ‘Non! Dites-moi’ Eugene smiled as he encouraged Manny. ‘Well, the Hindus believe that the human soul is indestructible. So, after death, the Hindus burn the body so that the soul can continue its journey without any attachments to its past life.’ ‘How is it different from what you guys believe in?’ ‘Well, the Hindus believe that the soul gets reincarnated in some other life form. We the Sikhs, believe that the soul returns back to the supreme soul, God.’ ‘Intéressant! Keep talking… this is interesting stuff.’ ‘There is nothing more to tell’ ‘What else did you speak with Mrs. Kapoor… Mrs. Dilo? How do you say her name again?’ ‘D-Ill-On, the n is almost silent. Dhillon. She and Karan fell in love in college. Karan had always suffered from manic depression. And he had been going to a psychiatrist since he was fired from his work for his affair with a student.’ ‘That probably explains why they divorced’ ‘I don’t know. I didn’t ask her if that was the reason. It is not nice to ask questions about somebody’s private life you know. It is bad manners’ Manny spoke admonishingly as he commented on Eugene’s lack of sensitivity. Eugene rolled his eyes. He silently vowed that by the time they would be done speaking with all the family members, Manny would learn a thing or two about the art of investigation. ‘There!’ Manny pointed as Eugene’s car drove past a house. ‘What?’ ‘That is the Dhillon’s house’ ‘Why didn’t you say so before?’ Eugene exclaimed as he applied the brakes and then shifted the gear to reverse. ‘You really should make up your mind if you want me to tell you about what I spoke with her or keep an eye out of her house. How is a man supposed to do both?’ Manny self righteously questioned. ‘S’il vous plaît donnez-moi la patience dieu’ Eugene exasperatedly sighed as he pleaded for patience from God himself. Eugene knew he would need more than just patience if Manny was going to assist him on this case. ‘What did you say? You know I can only understand basic level French’ ‘Nothing! Now, listen very carefully. You introduce yourself as the man who she spoke with over the phone. Then you introduce me and then find yourself a nice couch to sit on and don’t interrupt. Do you understand?’ ‘Oui!’ Manny sarcastically mimicked Eugene and nodded his head. As they waited for Mrs. Dhillon to open the door, Manny looked at his wristwatch; it was just ten minutes shy of four. Manny sighed, as he willed time to speed along.
‘Coming!’ a female voice yelled out from behind the door and they could hear heavy footsteps approaching the door. Manny straightened his posture. It was his first time at meeting and speaking to somebody as part of an investigation. He didn’t care what Eugene thought they were doing, for Manny, this was an investigation and he didn’t like being a part of it. ‘Yes?’ Manny and Eugene looked on at the portly figure of Mrs. Dhillon, dressed in beige pants and white shirt, but what really caught both their attention was the ample growth of facial hair on top of Mrs. Dhillon’s thin lips and the wart sized mole on her chin. ‘Mrs. Dhillon?’ Manny inquired and waited to hear or see her acknowledge his question. ‘Who are you?’ ‘I am Detective Inspector Manpreet Singh and this is Superintendent Francois’ Manny replied as he displayed his badge as he continued, ‘We spoke on the phone about your ex-husband’. ‘Yes. Yes. Please come in. Will this take long? My husband is expected soon.’ Mrs. Dhillon stepped back as she ushered them towards the living room. ‘Merci! We will try to be as quick as possible Mrs. Dhillon.’ Eugene replied as he surveyed the living room. Manny as instructed had found a couch to sit on. ‘Well, I did tell everything I knew about Karan’s death to him over the phone’ ‘Yes. Detective Inspector Manpreet Singh filled me in on your conversation, but could you, for my benefit tell me the story again. S’il vous plaît?’ Eugene asked as he turned on the charm. ‘Okay! As I told the officer, Karan and I met during college. We were in different classes, but we were part of the same church group.’ Mrs. Dhillon reluctantly started recounting the story once again. ‘Church?’ Manny inquired and immediately realized Eugene looking at him with a scowl on his face. ‘Yeah! My parents moved from India as part of the Free Church movement. Even though Karan’s family and my family were close, we never got along as kids. It was only during college that our parents decided that we should get married and so we started dating.’ ‘How was Karan like?’ Eugene inquired as he tried to build a mental image of the man whose final resting place was being religiously desecrated. ‘He was just like everybody else. He liked music and was an active member of the church. We used to hang out at cafes and talk about the degrading moral values of today’s societies. After we got married, couple of years later… He started fucking that oriental slut.’ Mrs. Dhillon spat out that word like a bit of annoying mucous caught at the back of her mouth. ‘When did you get to know about the affair?’ ‘He had always been bit moody. He would be happy and talking about one minute and the very next moment he would clam up. But when he started missing church and blank calls started coming in late at night. I grew suspicious.’ ‘It would have been difficult for you’ ‘I was young and I had been raised to believe that this was common in all marriages.’ Mrs. Dhillon’s voice dropped to a whisper. Eugene didn’t prod her as he waited for her to continue. ‘But then, he started drinking, and every time I would question about those blank calls late at night and why he was missing church, he would fly into a horrible rage. He would whip himself with the buckle end of his belt while crying hysterically and pleading for forgiveness. It was scary. I was scared for my own life. It was then I decided to separate from him. But my parents didn’t think it was a good idea for a Christian woman to separate from her husband. So I continued to stay under the same roof. But we behaved like complete strangers.’ ‘How did he kill himself?’ Eugene gently inquired as he placed his hands over her shoulder to show compassion, just like he had been taught to do on his first day as a police officer. Manny shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the silence, the long pauses between Mrs. Dhillon’s story and Eugene’s probing questions hung around the air like a hangman’s noose. ‘He slit his wrists.’ ‘Did he leave a suicide note?’ ‘Yeah! I think his parents took it with them along with the rest of his belongings. They blamed me for their son’s death.’ She said as she visibly tried hard to control the tears which were threatening to break free from the weak clutches of her eyes. ‘Do you know how we can get in touch with them?’ ‘I think I have it written down in my diary. Though I am not really sure if they still live there or have the same number’ Mrs. Dhillon wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes and brusquely walked past Eugene. Manny opened his eyes wide and motioned to Eugene to stop with the questioning. Eugene sighed as they waited for Mrs. Dhillon to return. ‘Here’ Mrs. Dhillon handed Eugene the piece of paper on which she had copied the address on. ‘Thank you. You have been too kind. I just have couple of more questions…’ ‘Yes?’ ‘When did you remarry?’ ‘20th January 1991.’ ‘Do you remember the name of that Asian girl, the student you suspected Karan to have had a relationship with?’ ‘I didn’t suspect and I knew it. Everybody knew it. It was one of the reasons he was fired from his job.’ ‘Do you remember her name?’ ‘It was one of those Asians names you know. The kinds which twists your tongue’ Mrs. Dhillon replied, not realizing the irony. ‘Was her name Naoko Higashino?’ Eugene inquired, as he looked through his notes. ‘I am sorry, but all these kind of names sound the same to me. It could be, but I couldn’t say for sure’ ‘Je crois comprendre… Do you think anybody had a grudge against Karan?’ ‘I know Karan wasn’t the most genial souls. But he still had a good heart. A good heart which wouldn’t let him hurt anybody. Despite everything, he never once raised his hands on me. I can’t imagine Karan having wounded anybody so much that they would want to defile his memory and his final resting place. He was a good man’ the tears reappeared in Mrs. Dhillon’s eyes. ‘Je suis désolé… Just one last question, What did Karan teach and where did he teach?’ ‘He taught a bunch of subjects. He was substitute teacher. So whenever a teacher fell ill, he would fill in for them. It wasn’t a regular job. So the school authorities didn’t think much before they fired him. He taught at the Ryder Public High School. I was so embarrassed, because Karan never told me about him getting fired. One of my nephews studied in that school, he was the one who told me about it. He was also the one who confirmed my suspicions about Karan’s affair.’ ‘I appreciate you taking the time out to talk to us. Could you also let us know how we could get in touch with your nephew?’ ‘Sure’ Mrs. Dhillon wrote down the name and address on the back of the slip of paper which she had given to Eugene with the address of her ex in-laws.
‘Merci! If we have any further questions, we will be in touch.’ Eugene clasped Mrs. Dhillon’s hand to offer condolence and assurance while motioning Manny to get up and take leave.

‘Was all that necessary?’ Manny ruefully questioned as they got into Eugene’s car. ‘Ce que c’était?’ Eugene inquired with a smile as he slid the car keys into the ignition lock and started the engine. ‘Never mind!’ Manny replied, being fully aware that he would only be ridiculed if he went any further with this line of conversation. ‘One more stop and then you can head back home.’ ‘But it is almost 1730hrs!’ Manny exclaimed as he looked at his watch again. ‘Last stop, and then we can call it a day. It is not too far away from here. And you can tell Shanti that I would love to come over for dinner and I appreciate her inviting me.’ Eugene rolled his eyes as he ignored Manny’s truant moans and glanced at the address. Manny just grunted and continued to stare out of the window.

‘Samir?’ Eugene inquired, as Manny busied himself looking at the flower decorations, possibly to apologize for him reaching home late for dinner. 

‘Yes?’ The man behind the counter answered. ‘Your aunt, Mrs. Dhillon told us where we could find you’ ‘Oh! Sunny aunty! She is such a sweet lady. So, what sort of a flower arrangement are you gentlemen looking for?’ ‘How much for this one over here?’ Manny questioned as he pointed at an elaborate flower arrangement with orchids. ‘I think that may be bit out of your price range sir’ Samir replied as he surveyed Manny. Unaware of the slight, Manny continued to wait for an answer. ‘That is about twenty fifty’ Samir replied. ‘Well, my name is Superintendent Eugene Francois and that is Detective Inspector Manpreet’ Eugene flashed his badge as he cut forth the banter about flowers. ‘Well, then in that case, I can do you for twenty. Flat. That is the best I can do’ Samir replied as Manny considered the offer. ‘We are here to ask you some questions’ ‘Well, ask away. All these flowers are legally imported and if you wish to see my books then you will have to come in the morning when the accountant comes. He has left for the day’ Samir brusquely replied. ‘Actually, we wanted to talk to you about Mr. Karan Kapoor’ ‘Oh! Why didn’t you say so before?’ Samir relaxed as he suddenly realized that he was not the one under suspicion. ‘Well, could you tell us why Mr. Karan was fired from his teaching job at Ryder Public High School? Mrs. Dhillon had mentioned that you knew the reason why’ ‘Oh! Yeah! Everybody knew he was sleeping with his student. Some said he was blackmailing her and some said that she was the one who was blackmailing him’ ‘Who is she? And blackmail?’ ‘Naoko Higashino. She and Susan were the best looking girls in the whole school.’ ‘Do you recognize the name Peter Hailey?’ Eugene inquired as he flipped open his notebook. ‘Oh yeah! He was a class A douche. He and the others.’ ‘Others?’ ‘Yeah! They were all a big gang. Peter, Ivan, Neil, Naoko and Susan’ ‘Do you remember their full names?’ ‘I just remember the girls. We used to play those silly games where we struck off letters and predict if we snogged them, married them or stayed as friends. You know something the boys used to do back then. But I remember Ivan’s full name. Ivan Kazinsky. He was the worst of them.’ ‘You said something about blackmail’ ‘Yeah! Naoko wasn’t big on studies or chemistry. But overnight, her grades improved drastically. She even managed to ace her GCSEs. Though I think it was more because of Annie’ ‘Annie?’ ‘Yeah! Annie. She was one of those nice girls you know, real sweet too. She had a younger brother too. Real smart that fellow was. Even though he was younger to us by two years, he was so smart that he was studying in our class.’ ‘Do you remember Annie’s full name?’ ‘Oh yeah! Salvatore. She was Mr. Salvatore’s daughter. He taught us physics’ ‘Any idea how we can get in touch with these people?’ Eugene looked up from his notes, ‘Neil, Ivan, Annie and her brother? What is his name?’ ‘Sorry. I can’t help you there. I had to drop out of school to help my father run this place, but I still kept in touch with couple of my friends. But they soon moved out of here after school. So I really don’t know what they are doing now’ ‘Merci!’ ‘Fifteen!’ Manny said as he picked up the flower arrangement he had been eyeing while Eugene questioned Samir. ‘Sorry’ Samir shrugged. A disappointed Manny joined Eugene in the car. ‘Why aren’t you starting the car?’ Manny inquired as he saw Eugene scribbling something in his pocket notepad. ‘I am thinking’ He curtly replied. ‘About what?’ ‘Okay, so far we know that there have been four graves which have been vandalized. Somebody has been religiously pissing all over their grave. There is a good chance that they didn’t die in an accident as it was made out to be.’ ‘You mean they were murdered?’ Manny exclaimed in surprise. ‘The more things we find, the more it directs to that conclusion. Turns out that these three, Peter, Susan and Naoko were students at Ryder High Public School, where Karan Kapoor taught as a substitute teacher. And there are others too. Do you know what this means?’ ‘That this is dangerous stuff. And I don’t like the sound of it.’ ‘Well, this is what doing actual police work feels like Manny. Anyway, when you do come to office tomorrow, can you find out about these people’ Eugene rattled off the names which Manny diligently noted down in his own police issued pocket notebook. ‘And tomorrow, I promise that you can go back home on time. You can tell me tomorrow what time to come in for dinner. Sound good?’ Manny nodded in agreement. For some strange reason, he was getting excited to find the missing pieces to this puzzle. He couldn’t wait to tell this to his wife.

7 “To be a real man or woman, you’ve got to know what you believe in. You’ve got to understand that your actions have consequences and that they are connected to everything that you are.” — Sister Souljah

Not all truths in life are bitter. Some are beautiful and induce shock and awe. While man is busy pondering over the finer details of life, these truths smack him on the head and make him look at the big picture and reconsider his insignificant presence in the fabric of the universe. One often feels this way when they are standing in never ending pastures of green or craning their necks to look at the giant overarching dome sparkling lights late at night. But no truth is as beautiful and awe inspiring than the realization the world is in fact a tiny small wonder where everything is invariably connected to everything else. Eugene was reeling in his bed, late at night as he tried making sense of the world. But he could only get so far in his head trying to piece together a jigsaw puzzle with only few pieces in his hands while the rest of the pieces were locked away beyond his reach, beyond the door marked, unknown. Despite all his attempts to convince his tired mind that the answer would stay locked behind the door till the morning, sleep evaded him. The thrill of his first day spent in the field, doing actual police work, had tired Manny, who had surrendered to sleep involuntarily on the couch as he and his wife, Shanti, were watching re-runs of their favorite sitcom. After much wheedling, Shanti managed to get Manny to come and sleep properly on their bed. But Manny spent the rest of the night sleeping restlessly, muttering and mumbling furiously. But Shanti was fast asleep to have been worried about her husband’s sudden change in behavior.

When the sun lazily made its over the horizon, Eugene was already dressed and ready to leave for office. He felt a weird sort of nervous energy swirling at the bottom of his gut. He wasn’t sure if it was the excitement of a new case or if it was niggling feeling that he might get a call from the HQ admonishing him for breaching the command directive which clearly instructed him to not undertake any new cases until further notice. The roads were almost empty when he made his way towards his office. He looked at his wrist watch and smiled, it was quarter after seven. The early morning office crowd still had another couple of minutes to clog the roadway. The smile soon vanished as he started the futile exercise of piecing together the jigsaw pieces in his head. He knew that there existed a connection between the four victims whose graves were defiled. He now knew that they were all students and one of them was their teacher. But there are had been more than just these three students. There were more names added to his list, more questions, and no new answers. He realized that sometime during the day, he would have to pay a visit to the twins, just to make sense of all this information. Suddenly Eugene found his head swarmed with images of the woman named Eva. Eugene turned on the car radio to flush out the distracting images of the brown skinned girl. When Eugene pulled into the car parking lot of Department X, he was surprised to see Manny’s cycle chained to the post. His knotted eyebrows dug in deeper when he saw Manny furiously shuffling files and flipping pages through them. Like a hamster running on his exercise wheel trying to reach his prize of a piece of cheese. ‘Qu’est-ce?’ Eugene exclaimed under his breath. ‘Oh! Good morning!’ Manny beamed. ‘Ce que tu fais ici?’ ‘Huh? What?’ Manny looked up distractedly from the pile of papers which rested in front of him, which he was so far devouring with relish. ‘I asked you what you were doing here?’ Eugene inquired again as he looked at his wrist watch, just to reassure himself that he was in fact early and Manny was already in office before him. ‘I don’t know about you, but I really couldn’t sleep well last night. I slept off on the couch while Shanti and I were watching Allo! Allo!… I don’t remember the last time I slept off while watching Allo! Allo!’ Manny rattled on, as Eugene rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. ‘The whole night I kept dreaming all sorts of things. I dreamt about all sorts of weird things. I even dreamt about my old school and all my friends. It wasn’t one of those nightmares I used to get when I was actually going to school. You know the one where you dream that you have gone to school naked and that everybody is pointing and laughing at you. But nobody is actually noticing the fact that you are naked. And then suddenly Mrs. Dhillon started screaming. It was weird. Anyway… I think I found something else which you may or may not find interesting. Anyway, what are you doing here so early?’ Manny inquired as he smiled. ‘I couldn’t sleep properly either. What did you find? And what time did you reach office?’ ‘I think I did find something. But I am not sure how much it is going to be of use to us. And I came in, I think about an hour back.’ Manny replied as he looked at the wall clock. ‘Dites-Moi!’ Eugene motioned Manny to share whatever he had gathered. Eugene watched Manny flip back the pages of his notebook and swivel around in his chair like a restless toddler.
‘Well… This Richard Salvatore fellow, he was a retired physics teacher in Ryder Public High School. And he also was a private tutor. He was caught driving under the influence on the day his wife was laid to rest. The traffic cop couldn’t allow himself to let Richard go. His blood alcohol content was about 0.17%. The traffic cop wrote in his report that it was nothing short of a miracle that Richard hadn’t crashed his car or killed anybody else.’ Manny continued as he flipped the page on his pocket notebook. ‘Anyway, one Mr. Forde stepped to post his bail. I didn’t know it was early before I dialed Richard Salvatore’s home phone. Turns out that he sold his house and has moved to a retirement home. The man who I spoke to over the phone was not nice. Not at all. Anyway, he did manage to tell me that Richard Salvatore was staying in Chartoff Senior Citizen’s retirement home’ Manny beamed as he closed his pocket notebook with the pencil inside as a bookmark and kept it back on the desk. ‘Une seconde!’ Eugene raised his finger. ‘Yes! The same Richard Salvatore, the physics teacher and whose daughter also studied along with the other three. Maybe we can speak with his daughter, after we finish speaking with him.’ ‘And you managed to find all this in the last hour, hour and a half?’ Eugene inquired, clearly impressed as he ran his hands, massaging his limp leg. ‘Does any of this help?’ Manny quizzed Eugene as he walked over to refill his cup of coffee and get Eugene his cup of coffee. Manny returned back to his chair and Eugene had still not responded to his question. Eugene seemed even more puzzled with this new bit of information. He didn’t know what to do with it. ‘Oui! Oui! Oui!’ Eugene replied as he saw Manny looking at him curiously holding two cups of coffee. ‘Aren’t you going to ask me to go out again?’ Manny inquired as he smiled conspiratorially and handed Eugene his cup of coffee. ‘Funny you should ask, because I was just going to suggest that we go pay Mr. Richard Salvatore a visit.’ Eugene chuckled as answer Manny’s question. ‘Do you think he can tell us more about these people?’ ‘No harm in trying now is there?’ ‘I was thinking the same thing you know.’ ‘You think whoever you spoke to in the morning is going to complain to the HQ for harassment?’ ‘No! I don’t think so. He sounded really sleepy. And I did say sorry you know.’ Manny explained. ‘Remember, we are not investigating. I don’t want the HQ to know about this and put a stop to this’ Eugene exclaimed, suddenly remembering HQ’s directive. A simple phone call from somebody, anybody would make sure that both Eugene and Manny faced HQ’s ire. Manny nodded in agreement.

‘This is the place isn’t it?’ Eugene remarked as he pointed his chin towards the sign which read, “Chartoff Senior Citizen Retirement Home”. ‘Looks like the place’ Manny exclaimed as Eugene turned the car around the bend and slowed down as he searched for an empty parking spot. ‘Remember we are not visitors. We are not here to meet any relatives, neither yours nor mine. So don’t go about getting chatty like the way you did yesterday at Samir’s flower shop.’ Eugene instructed Manny as they got out of his car. ‘Okay. So what do I have to do then?’ Manny inquired. ‘Speak with the receptionist and get to see the visitor’s log. Try and see if the receptionist on duty remembers anything else about that day. Look for anything which you think is odd’ as Eugene parked the car and they got out of the car. ‘And what are you going to be doing?’ Manny questioned, wondering if he was supposed to be doing all the work while Eugene relaxed and made fun of him. ‘I am going to speak with old man Salvatore’ Eugene answered as they opened the main glass door to the retirement home and walked towards the reception. ‘I am sorry, but visiting hours are from 1000hrs to 1800hrs’ the young girl behind the receptionist’s desk answered even before Eugene or Manny had a chance to explain their presence. Eugene looked at his wrist watch. It had just turned nine. ‘We are not visitors and I would like to have an audience with Mr. Salvatore’ Eugene spoke as he flashed his badge. ‘Oh!’ was all the sound the girl could let pass through her thorax.
Eugene continued to look at her with a raised eyebrow, before questioning, ‘Well?’ ‘Can I see your badge again?’ The girl requested. ‘Now can we see Mr. Richard Salvatore?’ Eugene quizzed the girl again, as he let her study his badge in fine detail. ‘I thought you guys had come to inform us where Mr. Richard Salvatore was. He has been missing for the last week or so. We even informed the police about this’ She said. ‘What?’ ‘Yeah! Somebody who claimed that he was Mr. Salvatore’s relative came to visit him last Monday. He had wanted to give him a surprise or something of that sort. He said he was taking him out for a stroll. He was supposed to be back by evening, but when he didn’t return we filed a missing person’s report with the police.’ ‘Were you the one on duty that day?’ ‘Yes. My shift is from seven in the morning to till four in the evening. And then the night duty staff take over.’ ‘Did he have any friends here?’ ‘Yes. One Mr. Frank Muller. Mr. Salvatore wasn’t the talking kinds. He liked to be left alone most of the times.’ ‘Manny, talk to this fine woman here and get a description of this man and check the visitor’s log as well.’ Eugene instructed Manny before turning towards the girl behind the receptionist’s desk with her name, Irene, emblazoned on the name tag. ‘Could you show my colleague here the visitor’s log after you show me the way to Mr. Muller’s room please?’ Eugene’s calm voice commanded the respect a police officer’s voice commands over civilians who are well aware of the power the badge wields. ‘Of course! Let me just place a call to the manager letting him know that police are here. And also inform the nurses at Mr. Muller’s floor to inform him about your visit.’ The girl hurriedly spoke as her fingers flew across the phone dashboard. ‘Merci!’ Eugene nodded his head with a smile as he said his rank and name out aloud. Eugene immediately turned towards Manny and whispered. ‘They do have security camera, but I don’t think they will allow us to watch those before we get a warrant. And HQ is not going to authorize us any warrant. Remember, we are not doing any investigation. But see if you can use your charm and get a look at the security tapes from that day’ Manny nodded his head vigorously. He could feel his senses feel the same sort of tingly sensations he had come to know of as nervousness. He had felt the same when he had held Shanti’s hands for the very first time, when they were just dating and their families were unaware of the budding romance between the two. ‘This way…’ The young girl motioned towards the long passageway which led to the stairs. Eugene followed her while motioning Manny to stay behind. Manny nodded again to let Eugene know that he understood his part in the assignment. ‘This is Mr. Muller’s room’ the girl said, as she knocked twice on his room door. Eugene thanked her again. He wondered what the twin’s would have made of her. He could tell that she was young, probably in her early twenties. He couldn’t deduce anything else about this young girl working in a senior’s citizen old age home. ‘Mr. Muller?! Superintendent Francois is here to see you’ ‘Bonsoir! Mr. Muller’ Eugene greeted old man Muller and watched the girl named Irene head back to her station. He hoped that Manny showed some sort of an initiative. He knew that even if Manny didn’t, the least he would do was copy the list of people who signed in as visitors on the day Richard went missing and took down the description of the unknown visitor. ‘Good morning! Good morning! Come in… Take a seat’ Frank Muller beamingly smiled back at the blonde well groomed french man before while he ushered him into his room and pointed to the lone stool in the midst of the room.

‘You wanted to see the visitor’s log right?’ The girl named Irene questioned Manny, who had been awkwardly standing in front of the receptionist’s desk. ‘Yes!’ Manny nodded, and watched the girl take out the visitor’s ledger from under her desk. It was a thin notebook whose pages had turned yellow with time. ‘Not many people apart from regular family members come in’ The girl said as she opened the visitor’s ledger and flipped the pages to the entry in question, before turning it around for Manny’s eyes. Manny took his notepad and pencil and noted down the date and time of Richard’s visitor. He then asked Irene to describe whatever she could recollect about the visitor. She even volunteered to show the security camera video, but Manny couldn’t make much from the grainy pictures. ‘Did you find anything interesting?’ Eugene questioned Manny as he let the car roll out of the Chartoff Senior Citizen’s Retirement Home’s gates.
‘Like the girl said, somebody did visit Richard Salvatore a week back. Irene was on duty. She said he was a white man, might have been in his thirties or forties. She said he had a nice smile and had good manners. She said that she had thought it was kind of cute that he had wanted to pretend that he was breaking out with the old man. According to her, he had a nice looking nose, sharp but not too sharp. I think she meant to say long. He was wearing a cap with one of those high school logos. She could make out that he had black hair underneath his cap. He had grey eyes, not too big or too small. She couldn’t recall more than that. She did say that he had already predicted that Mr. Salvatore won’t recognize him, but she had brushed it off as being trivial because Mr. Salvatore was never nice to most people in the retirement home. She kept saying that there was something fishy about the guy despite him being good looking and good manners. There was something off about him. Oh! And she deciphered his signature for me. She was rather nice.’ ‘What was his name?’ Eugene sighed as Manny finally seemed to have ended his long monologue. He had not been able to find much from Frank Muller. Frank corroborated everything Samir had told the two of them. But Frank had helped with bits and pieces of information about Richard’s life before he started staying in the retirement home. Richard was a retired high school physics teacher. He had a son and a daughter. His daughter had accidentally drowned in a swimming pool and his son had moved out of the house on his eighteenth birthday. Frank said that Richard spoke rather proudly of his son. The son was supposedly something of a savant. Richard’s wife had died of a heart complication. It was only then that Richard decided to sell his house and move into the retirement home. Eugene had spoken to the nurse on duty that day. He had said the same things which Irene had told Manny. He shifted the gear and pushed the pedal in frustration, as he watched Manny slowly and steadily flip through his pocket notebook. ‘Well? Are you going to tell me the name sometime today?’ Eugene was annoyed, more so with the increasing number of questions this case was piling up than with Manny. ‘Wait I wrote it down in my notebook. I am searching for it.’ Manny as he slowly and steadily glanced through each of the pages of his notepad before finally arriving the page he was searching for. ‘Yes! The man signed his name as Peter… Peter Hailey. Like the comet, Irene had said’ Eugene immediately and without any warning, applied the brakes on his car, which stretched Manny’s seat belt to the max, leaving a welt on his shoulder and his notebook falling under the car’s dashboard. ‘What the…’ Manny exclaimed as he leaned back on his seat and watched Eugene dive for his notebook under the dashboard. Manny unbuckled the safety belt and massaged the bit where the seat belt had imprinted the car maker’s insignia on his skin and watched Eugene frantically search for the notebook lying under the dashboard. ‘Open the page where you have written the visitor’s name’ Eugene commanded as he took out his own notebook and frenetically flipped through the pages. ‘Here’ Manny passed the open notebook to Eugene. Still cursing and massaging his hurt shoulder. ‘Baise-moi! This is…’ Eugene cursed under his breath as he dropped both the notebooks down on his lap. ‘What?’ Manny asked anxiously. He didn’t like the ghostly look which had invaded Eugene’s facial expressions. It was when he picked up Eugene’s notebook and scanned the open page was when he understood the reason for Eugene’s unexplained behavior. It was the very first name on the list. • Peter Hailey; Age 36; Male; White; Stock broker; Died in a car accident. Was driving under influence. Insurance refused to pay. 1951 – 1987 Peter Hailey had been dead for the last four years. And somebody had signed his name a week back to kidnap a retired high school physics teacher. 8 “Beware the fury of a patient man.” — John Dryden

A constant fear resides in all humans. Fear, that the moment, has passed us by. The moment, to kiss the boy or girl of your dreams. The moment, of losing yourself in the pure, unbridled joy which only a company of your peers can offer. The moment, when a simple sorry attains magical powers and unsay and unhurt people. The moment, whose magnitude cannot be ascertained till it has gone by one. The moment, which one believes is so stubborn in nature that, if one fails to recognize its significance, takes slight so personally that it vows to never return. For an entire generation raised by people who believed in the glorious phrase “Carpe Diem”. The fear hitchhikes along with the genes. Far and few are patient men who live in an impatient world. The eternal optimists, who believe that all moments, are not always the right moments to take action. The optimist that the best life has to offer is yet to come. A patient man is like a gardener, who religiously tends to his garden most of his waking moments. A man, who believes and knows that the right mix of rain, sun, shade, care and with a pinch of luck are the key ingredients in making that moment, repeat itself at the predicted time. Almost like a magician or a weatherman. Such was the character of the man behind the welder’s shield. He had unwearyingly waited for twenty one long years before he decided the time was ripe for him to taste the first fruit borne from his labor. Peter Hailey had discovered the joys of the bottle at a very young age. And the love affair grew stronger in his college years and later when he joined work. Peter had a favorite bar which he liked to frequent regularly after work. The man behind the welder’s shield had already done his mise en place by bribing the bartender with enough money and instructions to spike Peter’s drink with the fast acting benzodiazepine, while he waited patiently in the back seat of Peter’s car.
‘Hello Peter’ he had whispered as he ordered him to stop the car by the side of the road. The only resistance Peter offered as he felt the cold blade of steel pressed hard against his throat was slightly swerving along the road. ‘Who are you? What do you want?’ ‘Don’t you recognize your old friend Peter? You disappoint me’ Peter nervously laughed as he glanced towards the rear view mirror and tried to catch a glimpse of the man with the steel blade pressed against his throat. ‘You don’t remember me do you?’ the man spoke through his gritted teeth. ‘Okay! That is enough. I am scared. You happy? Now get this knife out of my face. Who put you up for this? Its Ivan isn’t it? That crazy old bastard. I will get even with him’ Peter’s voice lilted with alcohol, relief and good humor, as he felt the man remove the knife away from his throat. The man didn’t answer Peter’s questions. He pushed a plastic bag over Peter’s face and pulled it tightly towards him. Peter thrashed and clawed at the man’s hands as he felt the tightness in his face and his chest wanting to burst open with pain. The man waited patiently and counted down the minutes. His friend had timed it himself pulling this move on rats and extrapolated his findings with enough assumptions for a human. It took roughly eight minutes. He then took a syringe filled with pure alcohol and plunged it in Peter’s arms. He pushed the lever on the side of the driver’s seat and making the backrest fall back two seventy degrees. His friend didn’t have to know what he wanted to do next. His friend didn’t know the things Peter spoke about Annie, he didn’t have to. He would make sure of that. Peter’s swollen eyes stared back, the blood vessel behind his eyes had popped open and his mouth was open. He opened the paper packaging off a new razor blade. With his free hand he pinched the open lower lip and deftly sliced through it before moving to the upper lip. It was going to be his personal memento from his very first kill. His friend had already marked the spot where Peter’s car would be found with him in it, crashed against the milestone. He improved upon this rudimentary plan by deciding to set the car on fire. He didn’t want the police or his friend to know what he had done to Peter’s face. It was exhilarating and it felt good as he squished the lips between his palm. Like bloody chicken liver. Burning the car would not only make the initial identification difficult, but he also wanted to eliminate any traces of his presence in the car. The next day when his friend read the report in the newspaper aloud, he knew that they had gotten away with the perfect murder. He had got away with the perfect murder. But something began gnawing deep within him. He had enjoyed killing Peter much more than he had anticipated. His friend didn’t have it in him to kill somebody. But he did. And he was going to do it again. Also, I had a random plot item – what if one of the people this guy tortures later on is paraplegic, and the Saxenholdt person disappears? Then the readers are also quite taken into the entire “oh shit he’s also fucked” story item, while it turns out that he faked it all along or something. Okay I’m not explaining this right – call me.

9 “The whole of life is just like watching a film. Only it’s as though you always get in ten minutes after the big picture has started, and no-one will tell you the plot, so you have to work it out all yourself from the clues.” — Terry Pratchett

The sun was duly making its way in the westerly direction as Eugene dropped Manny off at the office and headed to 201, Swann Street, where the twins stayed. He looked at his wrist watch. It was just about to turn three in the afternoon. This case was beginning to do Eugene’s head in. He hoped that the twins would help him make sense of things. As he parked the car and got out of it, he realized as to why the other detectives who had worked on the case had abandoned it and moved on. He tried his best to swiftly climb the two flights of stairs, as fast as his limp leg would allow him to and anxiously knocked on the door. He hoped that the twins hadn’t already decided to go to the pub as he leaned against the door trying to catch his breath.
‘Oh good! It is you. Come in’ Eva answered as she opened the door for him. Eugene frowned as he slowly made his way to the sofa and took off his jacket. He was wondering where to keep it when Eva came to his rescue and relieved him off the jacket. Hanging it on newly nailed in coat hanger on the back of the main door. 

‘So, who did you manage to meet? No. Wait. Let me guess… Richard Salvatore? Oscar Salvatore? Ivan Kazinsky? Neil Forde?’ Alfie excitedly questioned as he greeted Eugene with a smile whose amazement did a fine job of hiding his frustration. ‘Oh! Look who is talking now’ Eva laughed playfully as she continued, what Eugene guessed, was stacking books alphabetically and sorting magazines in chronological order. Eugene looked at her with a raised eyebrow. ‘Alfie woke up with a bump on the back of his head. And I was trying to tell him that the bump on his head was because he had banged it against the coat hanger last night when I dragged him back home from Dom’s. But he didn’t believe me. So Eva suggested that we lay a bet, the loser has to be nice to people all day.’ Andy answered as he continued smiling at Eva’s jibe. ‘Alfie was talking in the morning? Before he had his morning coffee and cigarette?’ Eugene inquired. Surprise and astonishment riddled every single syllable. Eugene was well aware of Alfie and Andy’s eccentricities. ‘I know right. It is like the bump on the head did him more good than one would have expected.’ Andy replied as he sipped on his cup of tea. ‘That was NOT what the bet was about!’ Alfie muttered under his breath before finally shifting his contempt filled eyes towards Eugene and waiting to hear what he had found out since morning. ‘What was the bet about then?’ Eugene inquired, as he tried controlling his lips spreading across his face into a smile, forgetting the case for a fleeting moment as he humored Andy and Eva. ‘The bet was if we had a coat hanger in the house and not if I banged my head against it’ Alfie continued speaking with clenched teeth. ‘That was not the bet and you lost. Now be a gentleman and honor your side of the deal’ Eva sharply retorted, before turning her attention to Eugene and said, ‘Do you want a cup of coffee?’ ‘I would love some. Merci!’ As Eva prepared coffee for Eugene in the kitchen, Eugene recapped all that which had happened since morning, starting with Manny’s early morning phone call to the new residents residing in the Salvatore residence. His story was interrupted with Eva handing him over his cup of coffee. He ended his story with the realization that a dead man had just kidnapped a geriatric man from a retirement home. ‘Interesting!’ was all both Alfie and Andy managed to say as the twins pondered over the various aspects of the case. ‘But… How did you know that I was out to meet Richard?’ Eugene inquired as he questioningly looked at Alfie. ‘Well Andy was the one who pointed out that Karan was a teacher and the age differences between him and the others seemed like they were his students. So we asked Mr. Robbins to send over those school yearbooks they make when a class passes out, of the years 1966 to 1969 from the public library, along with school newsletters from those years.’ Alfie pointed to the stack which Eva was sorting and arranging. Before continuing, ‘Good thing there were only five schools back then. Now I guess there are about thirty odd of them. Anyway, we finally found the yearbook from Ryder Public High School. And the class of 1966-67 had the names Peter Hailey, Susan Olsen, Naoko Higashino. And then we found few other names, Neil Forde, Ivan Kazinsky, Karan Kapoor, Oscar, Annie and Richard Salvatore. See this picture here’ Andy passed over the yearbook which he had been reading while Alfie filled Eugene about all the things they had discovered since morning. The picture was commissioned by Mr. Nigel Forde, and the caption accompanying the picture had been, “Drama Club, Class of 1967 - 1968” Alfie continued, ‘Since we figured that four people from this photograph are dead, possibly murdered. I thought you must have arrived at the same conclusion and had gone to meet and talk with the others. But then Eva was the one who had directed our attention to the Ryder Public High School’s newsletter from the same year which mentioned Annie’s drowning. So that left only the others. But now that we know Richard is missing, that leaves us with Oscar Salvatore, Ivan Kazinsky and Neil Forde.’ ‘Well, go on tell me. What else do I not know about that you guys do’ Eugene asked as he leaned back in his chair and started rolling his cigarette. ‘Before you answer that Andy, tell me do you want to play our old game?’ Alfie turned to look at his brother as he smiled for the first time since he opened his eyes, as he reached over to his pack of cigarettes and lighter. ‘Sure! Why not?’ Andy replied, taking heart from the fact that Alfie’s mood had drastically changed in the last couple of minutes. The boys had invented the game of Sherlock, couple of years back. The intention was to observe and make educated deductions from the things they knew. Just like the famous fictional hero they had read as a kid. Each of the twin’s had their own distinctive style of playing the game, each reflective of their own persona. Andy preferred to downplay his deductions and give reason and logic to his deductions. Alfie preferred the flamboyant style of a magician pulling out a rabbit from his top hat. ‘As always, take the lead. The floor is yours.’ Alfie motioned as he pulled deeply on his cigarette and waved the curling smoke away from his face. Eugene smiled and waited patiently. He had seen the twins play the game in the past. He had hoped that after he shared the details of the case, the twins would play the game. Eva looked at Eugene smiling and took comfort in the fact that this was something which wasn’t unusual for the twins and was content in being a mute spectator. This was the first time since Eva had started work at 201, Swann Street that she saw the twins agreeing on something and get excited about. The somber mood around the dining table had suddenly dispersed itself with the chemistry which only twins are capable of sharing. ‘Okay. Let me first state all the facts that we know.’ ‘Sure… Go ahead’ ‘Richard Salvatore was a physics teacher in Ryder public high school. He also tutored the drama club. Possibly to compensate for the poor pay teachers have generally been known to be given. By all eyewitness accounts, Richard did seem to be an amiable sort of a person to be around. So when Richard actually told the staff at the retirement home that he did not know the man who claimed to be his relative, none of the staff believed him. I am not sure yet, but it is possible that the man who kidnapped Richard has full intentions of ending the old man’s suffering. But the way the perpetuator has pulled off, what I think is a pretty bold and brazen kidnapping, by hoodwinking the retirement home staff suggests that the perpetuator invested a lot of time and effort. A lot of time spent observing the people who worked at the retirement home. A lot of time spent observing Richard himself before coming up with the simple yet clever ploy to carry out his intentions.’ Andy finished speaking. Alfie was mildly surprised that Andy had mentioned things he thought his brother wouldn’t pick up on. The corners of Alfie’s mouth curled up and his eyes sizzled with excitement like a strip of bacon fried in a generous dollop of butter on a hot pan when his turn came around. He began as he stubbed the cigarette in the ashtray. Eugene continued smiling as he sat opposite the twins. ‘I concur with most things. What Andy failed to mention was the fact that, we are dealing with a very dangerous man here, one who doesn’t make too many mistakes. It is nothing but sheer serendipity that we are talking about him. And whatever clues we have, the only theory and motive which fits is that of revenge. But to find out exactly what happened in the last twenty three years and for the man to start killing after waiting for twenty one years is something we still don’t know. Vandalizing the graves was just his way of bringing attention to these cases. It is like he is teasing us to come and find him while he seeks to find closure.’ Alfie mumbled as if he was speaking to himself. ‘Though after all these years, it would be really hard to find evidence which connects the killer and the crimes. He indeed is a very smart man. But…I think he is now playing the last few pieces in his endgame’ Andy added to Alfie’s train of thought as waved away the smoke rings which his brother was blowing in the air. ‘Serendipity! That’s what all this is. The man is patient and ingeniously clever. Key traits if you wish to be a master criminal and want to get away with the almost perfect crime. I don’t think we will find much to back our theory, especially after all this time and all these years. But, the facts do tell us that our man is one of these remaining three. Neil Forde, Ivan Kazinsky and Oscar Salvatore. It is nothing but sheer serendipity that we are talking about him. He had planned the perfect revenge. The almost perfect revenge’ Alfie spoke out aloud, smiling to himself, as he blew another string of smoke rings into the air before finally stubbing his cigarette. Neither Andy nor Eugene said anything for some time. ‘Apparently, word has it that Oscar. Richard’s son was bit of a savant.’ Eugene spoke as he remembered the conversation with Samir the florist. ‘Apparently he was younger than the rest of them by two years, but he took his GCSE exams along with the rest of them.’ ‘That certainly puts him right top of the suspect list then.’ Andy replied while Alfie continued blowing smoke rings, lost in deep thought. ‘I will leave now. I have to be somewhere for dinner. I will also try and see if I can find out where these three people are and if they have an alibi for the day when Richard was kidnapped.’ Eugene replied as he stood up along with Eva who picked up his now empty coffee cup. ‘In the meantime, we will try and figure out if we can find out more about these three. Probably call up some people and find out things.’

Andy and Alfie buried themselves in the school newsletters while Eva went about sorting and organizing the other school’s yearbooks and newsletters. It was just about turn six in the evening, the time when Eva called it a day and went back home, when Alfie jumped in his seat. ‘What? What did you find?’ Andy asked as he followed Alfie. ‘Now, I remember where I remember reading Ivan Kazinsky and Peter Hailey’s name’ Alfie excitedly exclaimed loudly. Loud enough for Eva put her scarf back on the coat hanger and help the twins in whatever they were searching for. ‘WHERE ARE THE NEWSPAPERS?’ Alfie thundered as he searched high and low for them. ‘Er… em… I gave them for recycling’ Eva nervously mumbled under her breath, immediately regretting not walking out of the door when she had the choice. Alfie’s temper caused his nostrils to flare up like a buoy in the open seas. ‘Eva, can you call us a cab? Think we may have to visit the library’ Andy suggested as he reached for the telephone. As Eva rushed out the door to call for a cab for the twins, Andy rang their landlord who also happened to own and run the public library. ‘Yes! Thank you so much Mr. Robbins. No sir. I don’t think we would be there for long. Yes. We should be there in next fifteen or twenty minutes.’ Andy hung up, Alfie was still staring at the door which Eva had closed behind her.

‘Ah! Finally… Here it is’ Alfie called out before getting shushed by Mr. Robbins. And there it was, buried deep in the business section, a single column article, with an accompanying press photograph which showed a slightly older Ivan and Peter. ‘Peter Hailey and Ivan Kazinsky branch out after striking rich 7th January 1986

Peter Hailey and Ivan Kazinsky recently announced that they would be making a public offering for their company soon. This announcement comes at the heels of a merger of Peter Hailey and Ivan Kazinsky’s firm. When asked to comment, Peter Hailey had said ‘We have been friends since school. It was only natural that we bring that relationship to the world of business.’ ‘What do you make of this photo?’ Alfie had quizzed his brother. ‘From the looks of it, Peter seems to have had a drinking problem. The weight on the jowls and the gut suggest that he prefers whisky. Bit of a follower than a leader. Ivan on the other hand, just seems to have a complete opposite. Shrewd man judging by the cut of his suit and the way he has posed for this photograph. He seems to have a bit of a mean streak.’ ‘So you noticed the way he is seen shaking Peter’s hands in this photo?’ ‘Pretty evident that is, isn’t it?’ ‘Well I thought you probably missed noticing it, like the way you missed out on telling me when Eva took out the newspapers and sent them for recycling. When did she do that?’ Alfie muttered, still annoyed that he was seated here in the library rather than sitting along with Dominic drinking lager at the pub. ‘She did that couple of days back I reckon. You were sleeping. She asked me if it was okay to send them for recycling and I said it was okay. How was I supposed to know that you would jump up and down like a dog who has caught sight of a ball being bounced somewhere on the horizon’ Andy whispered, equally annoyed at his brother’s childish tantrums. ‘Now that we are here in the library, we may as well look up the phone directory and see if the three are listed. And while you are at it, look up Ian’s number as well. He makes for such a better drinking companion than somebody I know’ Alfie remarked as he looked at his brother out of the corner of his eyes, hoping that his brother registered the taunt. ‘Okay!’ was all Andy replied, he wasn’t going to let his brother rile him up. Andy knew that these taunts and childish behavior was a result of all the pent up frustration from the morning when his brother wouldn’t believe him when he had said that bump on the back of Alfie’s head was because Mr. I-Will-Drink-Whatever-There-Is-To-Drink would accept the fact that drinking made him act clumsy and stupid. The twins didn’t take long to note down the addresses and contact numbers for Ivan Kazinsky, Neil Forde and Ian Saxenholdt. They couldn’t find any listing for Oscar Salvatore. ‘Mr. Robbins, last favor of the day, could we use the phone for a bit?’ Andy whispered. Just like the way Dominic liked Alfie, Mr. Robbins had a soft spot for Andy. They took turns to call the three numbers. ‘Hello? Yes. Good evening. Could I speak with Mr. Kazinsky? Er… ’ Alfie turned towards Andy and mouthed ‘Junior or Senior?’. ‘Just say Ivan Kazinsky’ Andy had muttered. While his brother continued speaking on the phone, he wondered why he had let his brother talk to other people. Suddenly he was reminded about their stint at the telemarketing job. That had not ended well. ‘Er. Ivan Kazinsky? Oh! Okay. Is that something which he does normally?’ Alfie continued talking. Andy could guess that there was a pretty sounding voice at the other end of the phone, which made him wonder, why he hadn’t flirted with Eva. She was pretty looking. Not strikingly beautiful but she was still pleasing to the eye and had a strong personality. Andy continued thinking and listening to his brother talk over the phone. ‘Oh! Okay. Could I have it please? No. That is perfectly alright. Thank you so much for you help’ Alfie said as he kept the phone down, before smacking his forehead hard with his palm. ‘Do you think it would be alright if I called her back and asked her name? She sounded pretty’ Alfie cheekily inquired. ‘I am sure. But the answer is a big fat NO!’ Andy barked before mouthing a silent ‘Sorry’ to Mr. Robbins. ‘Oh well! Next time I reckon’ ‘Well, what did you learn?’ ‘Well the pretty voice, I reckon Ivan’s secretary, said that he had not reported for work today. Which is apparently very unlike him, he is not even reachable over his home telephone, which means he is not at his home either. She refused to give me his home phone number. Anyway, your turn now’ ‘Hello! Yes, could I speak with Neil Forde please? He is out of the country on vacation? When is he expected to return? End of this week. I see. Well, could take down a message for him? Yes! Thank you. Please tell him to call Andrew at 889 – 276 – 9689. I am a friend of his from school. Thank you.’ And with that Andy too kept the phone down. ‘That is weird innit? Nobody knows where Ivan is and Neil is out of the country vacationing. And nobody knows if Oscar is alive or not. At least they are not another name in the list.’ ‘Yet! Not another name in the list yet.’ Alfie concluded prophetically before continuing, ‘Well, I will just call Ian and see if he wants to meet us at the pub’ ‘Yes! It is your turn.’ ‘Ian is not at home either. He is not answering the phone. This phone is jinxed I tell you. At least he had an answering machine, have left a message on it. Hopefully it is just not you, me and Dom’ Alfie replied dejectedly as he slammed the phone receiver loudly.
‘Well, guess it is just you, me and Dominic. Just like old times eh?’ Andy sniggered as he said this.

10 “I don’t suffer from my insanity — I enjoy every minute of it.” - Sherrilyn Kenyon

The next name on the list after Peter Hailey was of Naoko Higashino. Naoko wasn’t always the wild, promiscuous girl. Her features and weight had often led her to be ridiculed incessantly by the boys. She didn’t always have the confidence to get her say. Not at home or in school. But then glorious year of 1958 arrived with the Everly Brothers crooning ‘All I have to do is dream’ and Naoko physically attaining puberty. It was the also the year Naoko noticed the alacrity with which boys were dropping their stationary on the floor and craning their necks to take a good look up her skirt. She saw the boys nudge each other and point towards her. And for the first time, she knew that she was being spoken about in positive terms and not ridiculed. She felt the rush of admiration and adulation which is mostly reserved for famous movie stars. She enjoyed the attention which boys began showing her way. And it wasn’t just boys but even grown men. She also noticed the manner in which the other girls in class had grown envious of the flesh growing on her chest that seemingly threatened to blind somebody with a popped button off her shirt. Naoko may not have understood why she had to memorize ‘A plus B the whole square’ or recognize the need to learn about the coefficient of friction, but she understood the power her body wielded over boys and men. And on a chance encounter, she had seen her aunt pleasure herself and she realized the necessity of screaming in joy and pure pleasure. And soon enough, Naoko was wielding her wand of young, virgin and nubile sexuality as a toxic weapon on everybody. Ivan and Peter in the meantime had recognized the power of money and gifting expensive gifts stolen from their mother’s wardrobe. And for that, they were rewarded amply by Naoko. It had pained the first time she had allowed Ivan overpower her behind the bushes, but the pain soon gave way to wetness and pleasure. She bandaged the pain of her first time with the feeling of power she seemed to exert on Ivan as she flexed the muscles between her legs. As she continued to walk and explore the extent of her new found sexual powers, her grades began falling faster than her knickers. It was then that Ivan had suggested that Naoko entrap their physics teacher, Mr. Kapoor. It didn’t take long for Naoko to get Karan to do what she wanted, all it took were couple of buttons being left open and a folded hemline on her skirt. The hippie subculture was sweeping through the nation. And Karan Kapoor was right amidst the cannabis, magic mushrooms, psychedelic rock and free sex. And the come hither looks were all it took for Karan to father an aborted child and Naoko’s grades to get manipulated. Even after Naoko got married to a simple chartered accountant, she was soon bored of the simple mundane lifestyle of a trophy housewife. She satiated her sexual cravings by seducing the male help. His friend had done a fine job of observing Naoko’s routine. They knew it had to be done on Tuesdays. It was the day which Naoko had earmarked as the day when she served desserts to the telephone repairman till lunchtime after her husband left for work in the morning. He had a small window lasting ten to fifteen minutes, between the time her husband left home and her lover came to visit. He pulled on the rubber surgical gloves over his hands before stealthily entering her house. He could hear the bathwater running. He cautiously tried walking towards the sound of the open water tap. As he accidently stepped on a squeaky toy, he remembered his friend warning him about the neglected four year old baby. ‘Paul darling! Is that you?’ he heard Naoko’s voice echo and escape from the bathroom. He saw the kid seated on the carpet and playing in his own puddle of piss. He and the kid exchanged looks, he placed the finger over his lips and motioned the kid to keep quiet. The kid gleefully laughed choking on his own drool which dribbled down his chin and slapping the puddle of piss in delight. ‘Paul? Darling? I am in the bathroom. You can come and join me or just watch me’ Naoko screamed as she raised her feet and placed it on the side of the bathtub and gently rubbed the small hard nub ensconced between her skinny folds of her womanhood. He tentatively opened the bathroom door and saw Naoko’s head rolled back on the edge of the bathtub and she pleasuring herself. ‘You really shouldn’t leave your doors unlocked. Anybody can walk in’ The man sniggered. The man’s voice shocked and broke pleasurable reverie Naoko was immersing herself. ‘What the!’ Naoko screamed in surprise. She closed her legs and tried getting up and reached out to the bathrobe which she had casually discarded on the floor whilst checking her body for old age sponsored wrinkles and sags on her body. In one swift motion, greased by pure adrenaline, he grabbed hold of her wet hair and with all his might had slammed it hard against the water tap. She slipped into the overflowing bathtub. He wasn’t going to take any chances and he didn’t have much time left. He plunged his hand into the bathtub and kept her head submerged in the water and watched the water slowly turn crimson colored. As he stared at the second hand tick past the Roman numeral twelve on his wrist watch for fifth time, he had decided that he needed to take care of the little neglected kid who was playing in his own pool of piss in the living room. He took out his hand and squeezed the excess water out of his shirt sleeve. As he walked back to the living room, he saw a bowl filled with marbles kept as a showpiece on the dining table. He shook his head in disappointment as he picked up couple of marbles from the bowl. ‘What is your name little one?’ he picked up the kid who gleefully smiled and chortled with laughter. ‘You are a good little boy aren’t you? Pity about your mother. She wasn’t a good mother. You didn’t deserve somebody like her. Let us hope you are lucky in your next birth. I hope you believe in things like that.’ The man chuckled along with the baby and pushed the marbles he was clenching in his fist one by one into the kids open mouth. He covered the kid’s face as the kid stopped laughing and started struggling to breath. The kid’s face slowly turned blue. He looked at his wrist watch again. He still had three more minutes. As the kid’s head changed from blue to a darker shade of purple, he placed the kid back in the puddle of piss. He surveyed the room once again with a big smile etched over his face as he walked over to the dining table and picked up the bowl of marbles. He placed it next to the baby and tipped it over. He stood up and surveyed his last minute artistic touch. He smiled with pride etched over his face before walking away through the open backdoor. His friend didn’t have to know about the baby. And his friend didn’t have to know about how much he was beginning to enjoying killing people. He had found his calling. The next name on the list was Susan Olsen.

Susan loved biking alone across the steep slopes with a marvelous view of the coastline on weekends. She always started from her weekend cottage, and followed the slippery slopes and into the jungle trail before stopping at the very edge of the same precipice she had cycled to since she was a teenager. He stood waiting behind the foliage, waiting for Susan to stop and marvel at nature’s beauty. As he waited, he flipped a coin. Heads, he would just watch her fall down the abyss, her skin tearing and her bones breaking with every single contact she made along the jagged drop, or just falling straight down the edge, fear, panic and terminal velocity killing her before her head smacks against the sharp rocks which awaited her below. Tails, he would skin her first with the branches of the tree he was hiding behind before beating her to death. Only after he was done with her, would he then push her down the edge with her beloved cycle. Just as he finished setting the stakes, he saw Susan ride up and skid to a halt, right at the very edge before peering over the handlebars to see how close she had come to cheating death. He flipped the coin. It landed Tails in his palm.

Karan Kapoor had always been a weak man. He wasn’t surprised when he heard the news about Karan’s death. The man deserved what he got. As he went striking names from his mental list of people, he realized that he personally cherished getting physically close to his victims. To hear the screams escaping from their prevaricated throats, to hear them beg for mercy, it excited him to no end.

Richard was glued to the floor, as he watched the newly formed pool of urine spread itself across the floor. He could feel the cake of feces mounding and climbing over itself. He had lost track of time and space. Any movement to free himself from the restrictive bond of the glue sent shockwaves of pain. He heard the now familiar sounds of the leather boots walking across the floor, heading towards him. He watched the man with the welder’s shield kneel beside him. Richard wanted to say and ask many things, but words failed to escape from his parched throat. But when he saw the man lift his welder’s shield off his face and speak to him. Pure fear and terror ran through his spine. ‘Hello father!’ He heard the man speak from behind the welder’s shield. He immediately recognized the voice of his prodigal son. It was different from the one which had spoken to him before. Oscar spoke with gritted teeth. The pain and anger constricted his pupils to tiny black spots. Oscar lifted the nearly half empty bottle of water and poured it tenderly over his father’s open mouth. ‘Oscar?’ Richard feebly questioned, not believing the name which escaped his lips. ‘Yes father. You don’t have to wait too long now.’ Oscar replied as he undid the bandages off his father’s hands and inspected it to see the recovery of the broken finger bones. ‘Why?’ was all Richard could manage to utter. ‘This!’ Oscar replied as he swept his hands to show the empty room and all the pain it had seen and would see, ‘is going to end soon’. Richard wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or if his vision had doubled. Richard saw another man dressed in the grey butcher’s apron, identical leather shoes walking towards him. The other man kneeled in front of Richard and inspected his broken hand. ‘And, this is for selling your daughter’s life away for money’ the voice which spoke was not of his son’s. As he saw the man take a hammer out of his back pocket and repeatedly hit his already broken hand, till Richard passed out of pain and exhaustion from crying for help and yelling at his son to make the man stop. Oscar silently watched. As the screams subsided, the two men walked out of the room. Both of them removed the welder’s shields. ‘Who is next on the list?’ The man questioned Oscar as he sat down in the wheelchair. ‘Ivan. Ivan Kazinsky’ Oscar replied as he saw the other man wheel himself away nodding.

11 “There are four basic human needs; food, sleep, sex and revenge.” – Banksy

A man learns to fear a lot of things in the course of his lifetime. Death, things marked with skeleton and bones, forces of nature, God, invasion of privacy, loss of respect and dignity and the thought of dying alone among other things. Ivan Kazinsky had been prepped to receive a crash course in fear. Ivan blinked his eyes open. He could feel numbness in his jaws. He tried to move his tongue around but he couldn’t. He violently struggled trying to get his hands free, but they were tightly bound together over his head. He was hung just high enough that his toes scrapped the hard concrete floor. His feet were spread wide apart and chained to a steel pipe. As he tried freeing himself, he moved around like a pair of fluffy dice hung on a car’s rear view mirror. He felt cold, and he realized he was feeling so was because he was stark naked. He twisted and turned and finally managed to glance at the full length mirror placed in front of him. His face and body was covered in bruises. His mouth was pried open with the help of a mechanical clamp he often saw dentists use on patients when they wanted to extract their patient’s teeth. He had to get two molar teeth of his own extracted, one on each side of his jaw. Ever since Ivan Kazinsky divorced his prudish wife six years back, he had gone back to spending his free time and the money from his high successful business ventures to buy him company on lonely nights. He even managed to sell his house and move into a plush little high rise. However, on Sunday, Ivan had decided to come back to his recently purchased penthouse flat alone. The letter from his wife’s attorney asking him to pay more extortion money under the guise of alimony infuriated him to no end. He knew that if he brought home anybody with him that night, it would only end in disaster and he was not thinking straight. Pumped up on cocaine, he put the VHS tape of his favorite home made movie. Even though the movie was made more than fifteen years ago, watching it still sent a deluge of blood between his legs. He had courted his wife and had carried on the charade of being a good loving husband for years without arousing any suspicions about his dark past. When she had stumbled over his secret stash of home made movies and threatened to go to the police, he had begged and pleaded her not to, he even volunteered that they would go to a marriage counselor. But she wouldn’t hear any of it. It was then that he decided to rape her. Once he made up his mind, he went about relishing it. He raped her mercilessly and filmed the act to use as leverage against her and her family to keep the whole thing quiet. His wife came from a respectable family, her father nursed political ambitions. He let her crawl to the phone and call the one man she believed would help her and save her from the monster Ivan was. As Ivan expected, she called her father. She sobbed into the phone, crouched on the floor, bleeding profusely from the ruptured anal sphincter and torn vaginal muscles. But Ivan had banked on his father in law to put his political ambitions over his daughter’s well being and safety. A scandal would tear the family apart her father warned her, just the kind of thing which Ivan was banking on. He did come and pick her up and rushed her to the hospital. The very next day, divorce papers were drawn and sent to Ivan. Ivan reached over for tissues to clean himself up. As he stretched over the expensive hand crafted leather couch, he became aware of the prickly sensation on his neck, the feeling you get when you are being watched. His senses heightened after his ejaculating over his stomach. That was the last thing he remembered before he woke up again chained up. ‘Hello?’ Ivan wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or if he was actually hearing another person’s voice. ‘Hello? Are you alright?’ The voice questioned again. Ivan tried moving and rotated his body to find out where the voice was coming from. He could make out the silhouette of a human body. He blinked his eyes and tried squinting to see beyond the light. It was then he saw the old man, his hand heavily bandaged, lying naked on the floor just beyond the spotlight. There was something very troubling seeing the way the old man was lying there on the cold floor. Ivan tried speaking, but the numbness in his jaws and the clamp around his mouth made it useless for Ivan to utter anything comprehensible in answer to the old man’s question. ‘Who are you? Can you help me? Please?’ The old man pleaded. All Ivan could manage to reply was a deep, long guttural scream. He wanted to say a lot of things, ask the same questions the old man was asking him. He shook his body and tried freeing himself like only a caged rabid dog is capable of. He could feel his heart pounding from all the anger he felt. Whoever was responsible for this didn’t know what they were dealing with. He continued thrashing about and tried to move his jaws despite the clamp. ‘Ah! I see both of you are awake now’ the voice spoke from behind the welder’s shield. Ivan thrashed and moved his body to face the life sized mirror. ‘Mr. Salvatore, meet Mr. Kazinsky. Mr. Kazinsky, meet Mr. Salvatore’ the man continued speaking as he walked from behind the full length mirror. Ivan looked at him with anger which only a caged ferocious animal is capable of in moments of a fight or flee. The man’s face was covered in welder’s shield, black full sleeved T-shirt, grey gloves and matching butcher’s apron. As he walked over to Ivan, his heavy leather boots crunched and scrunched on the concrete. In his hands, the man carried a truncheon and a small rusted single double edged blade ensconced in a safety razor. ‘Now, I am sure Mr. Salvatore did not have the decency to tell you what would be right for you. Classic Mr. Salvatore, wouldn’t you say?’ The man spoke, his voice and every single syllable tinged with condescension and derision. Ivan continued trying to curse and yell obscenities while thrashing about. ‘Now, Mr. Ivan Kazinsky, there is no point trying to say anything. No point telling me how I must have got the wrong person. Now please… Stop moving around like a lovelorn goldfish’ the man spoke, and just to show that he had Ivan’s attention, he swung his truncheon in a wide arc and landed it with a thunderous smack on Ivan’s back. Ivan winced and steeled him for the blow. But the pain was unbearable; Ivan opened his throat and screamed louder than he had till then. He could feel his skin redden with pain, the skin slowly rose as the welt made its mark. The skin burned with residual sting left behind by the truncheon. ‘I don’t like repeating myself Mr. Kazinsky. And I think it would be best if you didn’t move about while I spoke. I would like to have the satisfaction that you are paying attention to everything I am going to say. Nod if you understand what I just said’ the man spoke with a sweet sickening menace in his voice. Ivan nodded. ‘Now, you must be wondering why you are here and what I intend to do with you. And I am a firm believer that actions do speak louder than words. So I am going to tell you what I plan to do with you and then I shall do it. And I promise that by the time I am done with all the things I intend to do with you, I would have given you the answer to your why. Nod if you understand’ Ivan tried kicking, but the steel pipe which separated his legs like the Vitruvian man stopped him from doing that. Ivan was not known to back down from a fight. He cherished it, but the more he struggled, the more he realized the odds were stacked against him. Another swing from the truncheon landed on his back. ‘You are as thick headed and stupid I imagined you to be. It is a good thing that I have your face anaesthetized. I am sure I wouldn’t have been able to control myself had I heard you talk. But I think the anesthesia should be wearing out now’ the man spoke as he looked at his watch. Light reflected off the man’s watch and Ivan noted that it was rectangular shaped, with a well worn leather strap. ‘Wha oo wan?’ Ivan mumbled as he felt the feeling and sensation slowing returning to his jaws and tongue like a march of a million ants crawling over them. ‘What do you want? You ask. Well, I don’t want anything. There is nothing you can give me which will stop me from doing what I am going to do next. The correct question you should ask me is what am I going to do with you?’ ‘Wha arr yo goi oo doo?’ Ivan muttered and coughed as he tried speaking and choked on the slowly forming pool of saliva in his throat. ‘You see this?’ The man questioned as he raised his hand which held the rusted single double edged blade resting in the safety razor. ‘I am going to take this blade out and carve your face out before I carve your heart out.’ The man continued as he unscrewed the top of the safety razor. ‘I have realized that the pain is not as painful if the body and mind are not anticipating it. And I want your body and mind to be aching with anticipation before I begin my work.’ ‘Aahhiii?’ Ivan yelled through his gagged mouth, as he felt fear for the first time trickling down his legs. ‘Patience Mr. Kazinsky, like I was telling Mr. Salvatore the other day. Patience. Do you smell the rusted blade Mr. Kazinsky?’ The man stepped closer and walked around Ivan as he shoved the double edged blade right under Ivan’s nose. ‘Behind that mirror is a camera which is recording everything. You do have the habit of recording things don’t you. You like to visit those images again and again don’t you? I am going to give you something to watch. Now smile Mr. Kazinsky… You are being watched’ Ivan screamed, the knowledge of what was about to happen only compounded his pain, just like the man had said. Ivan opened his mouth wide in pain and agony as the truncheon plunged and invaded his rump. The man behind the welder’s shield didn’t waste any time as set the coarse sharp edge of the rusted blade in motion. Ivan wanted to shut his mouth and grind his teeth to try and control the pain which surged his body, but the twisting cudgel pushed deep inside his body along with the clamp made it impossible for him to do so. After the man with the welder’s shield was done carving open both of Ivan’s cheeks, he stepped in front of Ivan to admire his work. ‘Not a bad effort considering it is my first attempt, wouldn’t you say so Mr. Salvatore?’ ‘Do not worry father. I have something special planned for you’ Richard heard his son whisper over his exposed ear. Richard looked on transfixed; his mouth had run dry from shouting at the man with the welder’s shield to stop. He could make out the smile from behind the welder’s shield. And it was frightening. He kept his eyes open, just like the way the man had commanded him to, he vowed to stay alive for as long as he could or the man with the welder’s shield allowed him to. The clamps around Ivan’s face dug in deeper into the newly made scars. The pain, the loss of dignity and respect emanating from his rump and the copious amounts of blood which flowed from his face took out all fight out of Ivan. The cudgel fell out followed by a thick viscous dark brown colored solution of blood and feculence. The rapid loss of blood was making it easier for Ivan to drift in and out of consciousness, but every single sharp slice of the blade made him yell out in pain. ‘Here is the answer you were looking for Mr. Kazinsky. And it is all of five words long, Annie Salvatore sends her wishes! ’ the man with the welder’s shield hissed into Ivan’s ears as he yanked the skin off Ivan’s chest like an old sticker stuck on a personal diary. The answer made him open his eyes wide, one last time. After what seemed like forever, the grim reaper finally came to collect the body for the soul had long left the mortal shelter of skin and bones. Richard Salvatore watched the whole episode, trembling with fear and praying to all the Gods he knew and hoped that the man show some mercy. He watched the man with the welder’s shield cut the ropes which held the now dead man upright. After the man with the welder’s shield was done washing up the blood, feces and whatever else remained of Ivan Kazinsky, he made his way towards Richard. ‘Your turn will come soon father. Patience! Patience is all I ask for from you now. The same way I have waited for twenty three years for this.’ Oscar spoke, Richard could make out the smile on his son’s face. The other man walked over to Richard and bearishly unrolled the surgical gauze off Richard’s hands. ‘Why don’t you just kill me?’ Richard cried to his son. He tried hard to think of a reason why he still believed Oscar was his son, as the other man behind the welder’s shield inspected his broken hand. ‘Because the man who stood witness to a crime, and did nothing about it must be paid in his own currency’ His son whispered menacingly into his father’s ears as he watched the other man with the welder’s shield crudely twisting the broken fingers again. The now familiar screams of Richard Salvatore reacquainted themselves with the four walls, as he continued to lay glued to the floor.

12 “After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one’s own relatives.” — Oscar Wilde

The luxury of having somebody, anybody else cook one’s food, fill one’s glass with water or wine is most appreciated by a single man. A self respecting single man has no choice but to cook his own meals and, refill his glass with water or wine while the TV commercials play. But the single greatest luxury the single man enjoys the most from eating out, especially at somebody else’s dining table is, not having to clean up afterwards.
Experiencing this luxury was one of the many reasons why the twins liked to visit the McManus pub so often. It was also one of the many reasons Eugene had not declined the dinner invite from Manny and Shanti. Eugene was acutely aware that the evening would soon swan dive into awkwardly long pauses where they search for things to talk about. But none of these reasons were strong enough for him to decline ‘Oh! You are here. Wasn’t expecting you for another hour or so’ Shanti Manny exclaimed as he opened the door. Eugene glanced at his wrist watch. It was just five past seven. He had wanted to make a quick entry and a speedy exit, try and minimize the damage to his cerebral cortex. ‘Oui! I didn’t want to stay on for too long’ Eugene apologized as he wiped his shoes at the coir welcome mat. This was the first time Eugene was crossing over the threshold and entering into what Manny claimed to be a paradise. The doormat didn’t instill him with confidence as he pushed aside the beaded curtain. Manny’s living room surprising seemed to be everything which Eugene had not imagined it to be. Shelves stacked filled with books and vinyl’s of music. The smell and sound of spices sizzling wafted in from the kitchen followed by the smiling face of Shanti. ‘I will be right there. Almost done cooking’ she said before she disappeared amidst the sea of smoke, sizzle and splatter of oil.
‘She is making palak chicken’ Manny tried explaining the smell and the sounds emanating from the kitchen. ‘I understand what chicken means, not sure what paa-lac is’ Eugene nervously replied. ‘You will love it. I told Shanti to make it especially for you. Would you like a drink?’ ‘Merci beaucoup!’ Eugene thanked him as he passed on his coat to Manny. ‘I didn’t know you liked reading or listening to music’ Eugene commented as he walked towards the shelves stacked with the vinyl’s and books. ‘Oh! Those are not really mine. My niece got them along with her from London’ ‘Your niece had read Lady Chatterley’s Lover and the Scarlett Letter?’ Eugene inquired, surprised as he continued scanning the rest of the shelf. He was impressed and shocked that somebody so young would have such refined and at times scandalous taste in music and literature. As his mind raced to the memory of when he had first laid his hands on Lady Chatterley’s Lover and how he had to tear the cover off because it was deemed scandalous by all his teachers, despite each of them carrying a heavily thumbed copies of their own. ‘She is my niece, but she is actually more or less our age’ Manny tried explaining. ‘You have a niece who about thirty years old?’ Eugene questioned again, surprised. ‘Yeah! How do you like it?’ Manny questioned as he held a cube of ice tightly gripped in the claws of a tong.’ ‘Three cubes of ice. Water and soda should be fine’ Eugene replied as he looked at Manny. Suddenly realizing that Manny was not the same person he had seen and worked with for the last four years. Manny walked and talked with a measure of self assurance which Eugene had never seen before. For a fleeting second, he doubted if he was talking to somebody else was impersonating Manny. ‘I think this would be the best time to tell you that, I think Shanti may be trying to set you up with my niece. She should be coming home any moment now’ Manny conspiratorially whispered as he handed Eugene his glass of whisky on ice and soda.
‘What? Why?’ There were more questions which raced through Eugene’s mind like a herd of gazelles running away in fright, but these two topped the list. ‘Women!’ was all Manny said in response to Eugene’s pregnant questions with a shrug. Eugene suddenly felt a whirlpool of sick at the bottom of his gut. He couldn’t remember the last time he had dated anybody, suddenly remembering Natasha from his history class. It had not ended well for Eugene. It was the end of his first week in college. Natasha had wanted to know if he would like to go out for coffee. Eugene didn’t have any assignments to submit the following morning and his roommate was away for the weekend. Eugene agreed to the offer. They had gone and watched a movie at the local cinema and then stopped at a college bar for drinks and a slice of pizza. It would prove to be one of the most educative nights for Eugene. Throughout the evening, something had kept bothering him about the way Natasha looked. For a long time, neither Natasha nor Eugene had a problem in finding topics to talk about. The drinks kept flowing but the conversation soon dried up. As he stared at her face, he suddenly realized placed a finger on what was bothering him. He had learned enough watching his father behave with his mother that a man needs to be discreetly diplomatic when it came to questioning a woman and her choices. And so he had decided to compliment Natasha on her fine mustache. Eugene was sure that he hadn’t finished completing the sentence before he felt the cold beverage being splashed on his face. The following day rumors spread across campus faster than the speed of sound confirming Eugene’s status as being a vile blockhead. Eugene had not dared to establish contact with the female variety in a romantic manner ever since that day. The main door opened and was immediately followed by a loud greeting. Eugene gulped down his drink nervously as he looked at the main door. ‘Eugene, meet Loveleen. My neice.’ Manny introduced the new entrant as he fetched the empty glass from Eugene’s hands. ‘Bonsoir’ Eugene feebly greeted as he looked at Eva standing at the doorway. The smile immediately vanishing from her face like a toupee of a bald man’s head walking into strong winds. ‘Manny! Can you come here a second’ Shanti yelled from the kitchen. Manny obeyed duly as he handed Eugene his drink. ‘Don’t you dare tell my uncle about me working for the twins. He hates them.’ ‘Loveleen?’ Eugene inquired suddenly straightening up as he realized Manny walked back to the living room to refresh his drink. ‘She apparently likes to be called Eva. God know why? Loveleen is such a pretty name’ Manny said ruefully as he looked at his niece before smiling cheekily at Eugene and heading back to the kitchen.

‘So… If you had to commit the perfect murder… How would you do it?’ Alfie slurred as he motioned to Dominic to refill his empty pint of lager. 

‘Perfect murder? I don’t know. I will have to think about this one’ Andy replied as he sipped on his chocolate milk noisily through a straw. ‘Oh come on! I am pretty sure you think wanting to kill me at least a couple of times a day’ ‘That is true. I do think about it. More than just a couple of times. Why? I am thinking about it right now. And I do it because you are such a pissant!’ Andy replied chuckling. ‘That is not the point. But if you did have to get away with the perfect murder, then how would you do it?’ Alfie insisted as he watched Dominic walk over with a fresh pint of lager. ‘Dominic? If you had to commit the perfect murder… How would you do it?’ Alfie inquired as he took a long sip from his pint of freshly brewed lager. ‘I don’t know. I have never really thought about it. Are you planning on murdering somebody?’ Dominic quizzed with a frown on his face. Dominic had ceased to be surprised by the variety of questions which he got asked by these two. ‘No! No! Just wondering’ Alfie replied ‘Well, then wonder on, I have a full bar tonight. I will come back and check on you two later. Alright?’ Dominic smiled as he walked back to his place behind the bar counter. ‘It probably would have to be done in an impersonal manner, with an rock solid alibi. Given that I have you sticking to me, I reckon that bit is sorted out. Unless of course you want to rat me out. But then again I suppose we will need somebody else like Dominic or Eugene to corroborate our story’ ‘When you say impersonal… What exactly do you mean?’ ‘Impersonal. Like the murder would have to be done in cold blood. Not use knife or any other close range murder weapon. I suppose nothing which involves actually getting physically close to the victim. Like I don’t want to see when the person actually dies, because if you do that then it becomes personal. And then you make mistakes. And perfect murder becomes an imperfect murder’ ‘That is exactly what I had thought about too…’ ‘But?’ ‘But what?’ ‘I know there is a but in there somewhere.’ ‘But if you look at the all the victims, there was something personal. The man got close to his victims. He, like you said, stayed back to see life depart from their eyes.’ ‘What man? What are you talking about? You know I hate it when you do that.’ ‘Do what?’ ‘Do this… Think about something and then randomly asking me some absurd question’ ‘Never mind then’ ‘What man?’ Andy insisted. ‘The man’ ‘You are thinking about the case aren’t you?’ ‘Yes I am’ Alfie smiled before sipping his beer again. ‘Do you really think he is that smart?’ ‘How smart is that smart?’ ‘Smart enough to commit the perfect murder but still keep things personal?’ ‘I think he is smarter than that. I think he is much smarter than that. This is going to be a real challenge. The question is which one of the three is the killer’ ‘You mean Neil, Ivan and Oscar?’ ‘Yes! Oscar and Neil seem to be mentally capable. But Ivan has the strength.’ ‘You know what?’ ‘What?’ Alfie inquired curious to know if he had missed out something which Andy suddenly realized. ‘We will try calling up Ivan again tomorrow morning. Neil is going to be back in a couple of days. We will speak with him as well. In the meantime, we will see if Eugene can find the whereabouts of Oscar. For now… take a break. You are here at the pub. Drink your beer and forget about the case for some time. You are beginning to depress me’ Andy answered with a smile. ‘I guess you are right’ Alfie smiled resignedly and motioned to Dominic to indicate his empty glass again.

‘What this is. It is fabulous. If you don’t mind, I would love to have the recipe for this’ Eugene exclaimed as polished off the dessert. 

‘It is called gajar ka halwa. It is lot like carrot pudding of sorts. Loveleen made it herself’ Shanti exclaimed pointing towards Eva who seemed to be content in silence. ‘You have somebody who comes to cook?’ Shanti inquired. ‘Non! Non! I do know how to cook. Learnt it while I was in college’ ‘Oh yeah? Like what?’ Eva questioned. Eugene could make out the mischief in her voice and the sparkle in her eyes. ‘Well, I can boil water’ Eugene replied defiantly as he watched all three of them burst into peals of laughter. ‘You can do a lot with hot water you know. You can soft boil and hard boil an egg in it. You can make cup of tea or coffee. You can never go wrong with boiling water’ Eugene replied as he half heartedly joined into the laughter which echoed around the dining room. Suddenly realizing his philosophy professor’s famous sayings, ‘It is easier to find out if you are awake or dreaming. What is difficult to know is if people are laughing with you or at you’. But he forgot all about it as Eva smiled at him as Manny and Shanti continued to laugh boisterously. A smile which assured Eugene that there a whole world existed outside of work, a world he was so far unaware and afraid of. A smile which gave him the courage and confidence to explore this new world he had just discovered.

13 “There is no such thing as a “broken family.” Family is family, and is not determined by marriage certificates, divorce papers, and adoption documents. Families are made in the heart. The only time family becomes null is when those ties in the heart are cut. If you cut those ties, those people are not your family. If you make those ties, those people are your family. And if you hate those ties, those people will still be your family because whatever you hate will always be with you.” — C. JoyBell C

Richard heard the leather boots walk away as the rubber gloved hands roughly placed the bowl of gruel mixed with painkillers and the bottle of water with the straw sticking out just far enough for him to stretch and pull his glued skin away from the concrete floor. Richard pried his tear glued eyes open and saw that his hand was swathed with new set of bandages. His hand felt heavy and numb. He hungrily tried grasping the spoon sticking out from the bowl of gruel with his free broken hand from the bowl, but found it difficult to pick up with the spoon. Tears rolled out of his eyes as he cursed in pain and willed his body and mind to work together. The more he tried to reach for the spoon, the more it physically hurt him. In a sudden burst of anger, he pushed the bowl of gruel away making the water bottle fall down from its perch. He broke down into whimpering sobs as he saw the water make way and merge itself with the pool of his urine. The stench from his own feces had made him want to regurgitate his guts out the first couple of days. But now he lay there resigned to his fate. ‘It would be nice to have another child you know. Somebody for Annie to play with’ his wife had said. ‘You know what the doctors had said. It is nothing less than a miracle that both you and Annie are safe and alive’ ‘We could… Adopt’ she had said cautiously. ‘Adopt?’ Richard had tried long to avoid talking about the ‘A’ word. ‘I was just thinking you know. And we always did want to have two kids. One girl and one boy’ she had smiled weakly as she lay on the hospital bed. ‘Camilla! You are still weak. The doctors said you lost a lot of blood. Take rest. And we will talk about this once Annie grows up a bit. Okay?’ ‘You promise?’ ‘Yes I promise’ Two years had gone by in a flash forward montage of sleepless nights, diaper changes, baby talk, sleepy time lullabies and arguments about whose turn it was to have a lie in. Richard had forgotten all about his conversation with his wife on the hospital bed till she brought up the topic once again, just a week before little Annie’s second birthday. Richard was tired and he couldn’t come up a valid reason or excuse to procrastinate. Six months later, they had brought home Annie’s little brother. Annie had been excited about the idea of having a little brother. But Richard had been skeptical about how well the kid would integrate in the family. There was something odd about the kid, something which made Richard very uncomfortable. But Richard’s anxiety was soon replaced with pride as the kid showed his intelligence. He was solving physics problems meant for sixth form students while the rest of his class was still learning how to do basic mathematics. Richard’s colleagues were both amazed and jealous of Oscar. In him they could see the potential they wished they were gifted with. All Oscar wanted to do was play with Annie and her dolls. But Richard wouldn’t have any of that. He made sure that the boy wouldn’t waste the gift he was given. So the occasional slap and caning was considered to be okay, just to give Oscar the incentive and motivation he needed to solve the next problem. He had tried getting Oscar interested in chess, but when Oscar beat him in the third game and continued to beat him for the next ten, Richard left him on his own. Oscar had gotten interested in the stars. He would come home armed with an armada of thick books detailing the constellations and mysteries of the universe. By the time Oscar had turned twelve, he had fashioned himself a telescope. He even had managed to figure out the planetary trajectories and solve the famous E = MC2 in significantly less number of steps. But when Annie had died, the boy underwent a drastic change. His grades began to tumble downhill at an alarming pace. Richard and Camilla were worried if their boy had started depending on drugs. Oscar had withdrawn into a shell. There is no greater pain for a parent than to see their child waste away the future they so carefully craft ever since they conceive the child. On the eve of his eighteenth birthday, Richard had bought Oscar the finest amateur telescope money could buy. But Oscar had other plans. He fled from the home which had given him a name, a place to stay and people to call as his family. As Richard lay amidst his own pool of urine and pile of feces, he wondered if Oscar was ever really his son. It was hard to tell whose blood ran in his veins. Richard felt the anger and self righteous justice rising in him as he yelled. ‘I HOPE YOU FUCKING DIE IN HELL YOU ROTTEN SON OF A BITCH!’ Richard could hear the sound of the leather boots walking towards him. Richard laughed and cried in a way only a man who has given up hope on life can. He could feel the trepidation in the man’s movements. He could sense the restrained fury coursing through man’s body. ‘Kill me! What are you waiting for? KILL ME!’ Richard cried. ‘Not yet old man! Just not yet’ the man spoke through gritted teeth as bent down and picked up the bottle of water and stuck the straw in Richard’s mouth. Richard greedily bit on the straw and suckled on whatever was left in the water bottle. Richard saw the man’s feet turn around and walk away. Richard saw the man’s feet walk towards him once again. He stopped, knelt down and injected the diluted solution of acetone between Richard’s legs and the concrete floor on which they were glued to. Ants crawled over Richard’s free leg, needles pricked as the blood resumed flowing the way it was meant. The skin blotched with red rashes and wrinkled with sweat, urine and feces, Richard continued egging the man to finish the job. End his life. End his suffering. But the man had other plans. ‘I suppose Oscar will understand as to why I did what I am going to do next. Mr. Salvatore, you really shouldn’t have…’ the man said as he removed the hammer from his back pocket and brought it down on Richard’ knees. They did say actions speak louder than words. But Richard’s screams were louder. And they grew louder with every single strike of the hammer on Richard’s knees. ‘STOP IT!’ Richard heard Oscar’s voice piercing through the wall of his screams. The man put the hammer back into his pocket, but the delightful sadistic smile stayed on his face. The more I read it, the more I’m convinced that you should keep the sadistic murderer being one person and Oscar being a separate person secret from the readers as well.

14 “My soul is impatient with itself, as with a bothersome child; its restlessness keeps growing and is forever the same. Everything interests me, but nothing holds me. I attend to everything, dreaming all the while. […]. I’m two, and both keep their distance — Siamese twins that aren’t attached.” — Fernando Pessoa (The Book of Disquiet)

Eva had sauntered over to 201, Swann Street as she usually did in the mornings. But instead of finding the twins fast asleep as she usually did on most days of the week, the twins were awake and engaged in what she understood to be a heated argument. ‘Ah! Good. We have a witness, observer and judge’ Alfie exclaimed as he saw Eva open the door. ‘What are you guys doing up so early?’ Eva questioned as she hung her scarf behind the door. ‘Don’t ask’ Andy answered as he tiredly waved at her. ‘You guys didn’t sleep all night did you?’ Eva questioned as she noticed the empty bottles of beer and chocolate milk stacked one against the other in the kitchen. ‘No. Not really’ Andy answered as Alfie continued his game of staring at his brother hard enough till he relented to his wish. ‘What is he on about? And do you guys want tea and coffee?’ Eva asked as she put the kettle on the stove. ‘Coffee for me. Thanks. I will need to be sober if we are supposed to break and enter somebody’s house’ Alfie replied while he continued to fix his gaze on his brother. ‘Mr. Adventurous over here, wants to break into somebody’s house because he clearly hasn’t heard of patience or what it means’ ‘Breaking and entering?’ Eva asked surprised. ‘I don’t understand how she refuses to understand the point? Like every time. The question is not breaking and entering. The question is whose house’ Alfie exclaimed frustration marking his every syllable.
‘Don’t people do that sort of thing in the nights?’ Eva questioned again, ignoring Alfie’s taunt. ‘Why didn’t I think of this before? We will just flip a coin. If it falls heads then we will go to Ivan’s place. If it falls tails then we go to Neil’s’ Alfie excitedly looked at his brother, before turning his attention to Eva, ‘Oi! You! The one with the kettle! You have any coins on you?’ ‘The name is Eva. Even if I did have any, the answer would have been no.’ she replied grumpily as she loudly kept the cups on the kitchen counter. ‘You root for Ivan and I will root for Neil. We will ask her to touch one either one of our index fingers. Whoever she chooses, we will pay them a visit. And if they don’t answer then we will ask Eugene to find a work around and find out where they are’ Alfie whispered into Andy’s ears while Eva eyed them curiously. ‘No breaking and entering?’ Andy quizzed, just to confirm. ‘Yes! No breaking and entering. If they are not at home then we will go pay Eugene a visit and see if we can help him find Oscar’ Alfie continued to speak in whispers. ‘Eva! Choose a finger’ Andy exclaimed as he and Alfie stuck their index fingers out at her. ‘What is this about?’ her eyebrow raised itself to add weight to her question. ‘Can you just do what he asked you to do? God! It is like she just doesn’t understand what we speak’ Alfie cried out aloud to his brother. ‘Now tell me what this is all about?’ Eva questioned again as she pulled violently pulled Alfie’s finger. ‘Can we wait till we have finished having breakfast?’ Andy inquired. ‘Yeah alright?’ ‘Well?’ Eva continued standing in front of the twins, ignoring the shrill whistle of the kettle boiling on the stove. ‘We are going to go and see Mr. Neil Forde. Even though his office said that he wouldn’t be back in town for…’ Andy’s explanation for Eva’s question was suddenly interrupted with the sound of rapid and angry knocking on their door. The three heads in the room turned towards the door. Andy nodded and motioned towards Eva to go answer the door, his nod assuring her that her question would be answered once she opens the door. In those fleeting seconds between Andy motioning to Eva and Eva resignedly walking to the door, an envelope flew through the gap at the bottom of the door and into their living room. Before Alfie had a chance to yell Eva to hurry up, Eva rushed to the door, opening it with a cat like swiftness, and hurriedly running down the stairs. All she could hear was the sound of footsteps racing away. By the time, Eva made her way to the ground floor, all she could see was a young boy racing around the corner. ‘Let him go’ she heard Alfie yell from the window which looked over at the gate. Reluctantly she made her way back up to the apartment.

‘Did you deliver the note?’ The man inquired as he saw the boy catch his breath. ‘Yes mister’ the boy replied panting and bent over, resting his hands against the wall. ‘Here… Good job’ The man smiled, the grey eyes crinkled with mirth, as he patted the boy’s back as he rolled a ten pound note and handed it along with a bag of freshly baked bread. ‘Thank you mister’ the boy mumbled before furiously tearing into the bag and chomping down on the loaf of bread like a squirrel with detachable jaws.

‘Why didn’t you let me run after that little rascal?’ She inquired as he caught her breath and poured herself a glass of water. ‘Here’ Andy passed her a square piece of paper which she guessed was inside the envelope, which Alfie held in his hands. Alfie continued frowning and kept staring at the envelope. Eva studied the note and the infectious frown from Alfie’s eyebrows had soon spread across the silent room like a communicable disease. The reedy parchment, which Eva held in her hands and a perplexed look on her face, had just one word written on it. εγώ – βαν K – αμαρτία - ουρανός

‘What does this mean?’ she asked as flapped the stiff piece of piece at the twins. ‘It says Ivan Kazinsky. In Greek’ Andy replied. ‘What? Ivan Kazinsky? The student?’ The surprise in Eva’s barely registering on the twins. ‘Yes. You see, it is very cleverly written. The name has been split as different words.’ ‘And you guys know how to read Greek?’ Eva stopped flapping the paper around and gingerly passed it back to Andy. ‘Yeah! We learned how to do that we were quite young. We thought it would be fun. We even learned Hebrew and Latin. Anyway, like I was saying, this εγώ means the pronoun I. Like the Id. And this here βαν means van.’ ‘Shouldn’t you like dust the paper for prints?’ Eva questioned interrupting Andy as she did. Andy looked at her, mirroring her puzzled look. ‘What? I have read Raymond Chandler and Saradindu Bandyopadhyay. They are always dusting for prints.’ She continued to explain and justify herself. ‘Well, look at the opacity and feel the roughness of the paper. This is an antique paper. It is not coated with china clay, otherwise known as kaolin, which gives paper the glossy finish, the kind you find in calendars and magazines. Neither does the paper have any sort of beeswax. Usually white. They use that kind of paper in barographs. This doesn’t have that either.’ ‘So… you can’t lift prints from this?’ Eva naively questioned as she felt her eyes glaze as Andy paused in his discourse about the different kinds of paper. ‘In one word, the answer is No!’ Alfie muttered. ‘But why would anybody send you this…’ Eva pointed at the square piece of paper, ‘with just a name written on it’ ‘It is an invitation for us to come and play’ Alfie replied, his face suddenly lighting up with a big smile. ‘Well surely, you can tell something about the person from the way they have written this, can’t you?’ Eva inquired hopefully, which prompted Alfie to look at her with a smile and respect. ‘Yes! But I suppose, I should let Andy finish explaining what the rest of the words means’ Alfie looked smiling at his brother who seemed be slightly annoyed at Eva and her apparently boredom with Andy’s discourse. ‘No! It is alright. You tell her. I am hungry anyway.’ Andy gruffly replied, while hoping that Ian may drop in. His pretty face seemed to be the only thing which Andy was sure would help him feel better that day morning. ‘Now I will tell you whatever that is I can gauge about the man who wrote this, on one condition and that is that you don’t ask me to explain how I know about these things and expect me to explain it to you like you are a five year old. Is that understood?’ ‘How can you be sure that it was a man and not a woman?’ Andy questioned as Eva nodded before smiling at Andy. Alfie glared at his brother before continuing. ‘Fine then! We know it is a man by the way the indentations are made. It has been proven that women’s grip on a pen varies vastly from that of a man. The man likes a bit of flourish and is flamboyant in his personal style.’ Alfie continued before he got distracted by both Eva and Andy’s raised eyebrows, ‘Notice the way he writes the Greek letter Kappa, the K,’ He said irritated as he saw Eva lean over and take a look at the card, still placed on the card. ‘He is intelligent, we have already established that. But the envelope, now this is what is most interesting.’ ‘The envelope? But it is just simple old envelope…’ Andy picked up the envelope before exclaiming with a smile, ‘Ah! I see what you mean’ ‘What? What does it mean?’ Eva quizzed excitedly. ‘The envelope is not pre-cut like your regular envelopes. If you look at the edges which are glued together then you will notice the serrated edges which indicate that the paper was cut using something like a paper knife.’ Andy explained as he handed the envelope to Eva. ‘Why is that important?’ Eva questioned as she bent the envelope and gently ran her finger tips on the exposed edges of the glued paper. And like the brothers said, it was not smooth, but more like the edges on a newspaper. ‘It shows that the man is a craftsman and he takes pleasure in getting his hands right in there.’ Alfie replied ominously. ‘Somebody who has gotten with the perfect murder or murders and is planning on carrying on, but uses his hands’ Andy added, suddenly remembering his conversation with Alfie the previous night. ‘Right! So that settles it. Eva? What is for breakfast?’ Alfie inquired, his face suddenly sporting the first smile Eva had seen ever since she had started working with the twins. The smile somehow miraculously transformed his otherwise dour face and extending it a child like quality. Eva for the first time noticed the scar on Alfie’s face and how much it resembled Andy’s underneath all the untamed facial fuzz Alfie grew on his face.
‘Will eggs and bacon do?’ Eva questioned. ‘That will be marvelous! Thank you’ Alfie replied with uncharacteristic exuberance. ‘So does this mean that we are going to see Ivan and not Neil?’ Andy questioned as he watched Eva busying herself with the preparation for their breakfast and handed them their cup of tea and coffee. ‘You guessed correctly’ ‘Shouldn’t we call and inform Eugene about this?’ ‘Maybe… But I suggest we first have our delicious breakfast and then pay a visit to Ivan before we make that call to Eugene. This is the most fun I have had in months’ Alfie replied as he lit up his cigarette and started blowing smoke rings. ‘I think we should just let Eugene know that we tried getting in touch with Neil Forde and Ivan Kazinsky. Maybe not tell him about this’ Andy suggested as he pointed at the ominous looking envelope with the print square piece of antique paper residing in it. ‘If you insist’ Alfie replied absentmindedly. ‘I do’ Andy replied with all the seriousness he could muster. But his brother’s smile was infectious. ‘You still didn’t recognize the clue in the way it was written have you?’ Alfie inquired with a mischievous smirk playing on his face. ‘What clue?’ ‘Never mind then… Oh! Look… Breakfast is ready’ Alfie pointed at Eva and deftly changing the topic.

Nice. Tight. This is a good chapter.

15 “The whole educational and professional training system is a very elaborate filter, which just weeds out people who are too independent, and who think for themselves, and who don’t know how to be submissive, and so on — because they’re dysfunctional to the institutions.” — Noam Chomsky

Being a copper is not just about wearing the uniform and doing the right thing. On most days, the job is not about catching wrong doers, bank robbers, catching murderous serial killers, defusing a time bomb as the seconds tick down to zero. That is what the movies and fiction would like one to believe. Jonathan Egan had been a police officer since the beginning of time itself; and a chief of police for fifteen of those years. He knew that on most days, all one needed to do was to make sure that one didn’t piss about with the boss looking over your shoulder. On most days, it was all about avoiding stepping on anybody’s toes and doing lot of paperwork. Egan knew that Superintendent Eugene Francois had lived long enough in his fictionalized bubble, but it was time that somebody explained the reality to him. Egan hated the fact that he had to do the job. He couldn’t delegate this job. If the newspapers got wind that the police chief was hampering his own man’s investigation, then shit would fly in all directions, and no pants would save anybody from the shit storm. Jonathan Egan swiveled his chair away from the window which let him see the early morning shift beat coppers walk into the building. Some nursing their hangovers and cups of hot black coffee, because the coffee they made for themselves tasted nothing less than filthy colored muddy water. And some gleefully chatting to their partners. Even from up above the fifth floor, he could make out their ranks from their postures as they trudged into the building. The stiff upright backs were the rookies, just out of police academy, police work not having broken their backs, their morals or their souls yet. The guys who walked in nonchalantly, were the beat coppers, people who took the oath to protect and serve long before he had joined the police force, people who were content in serving out their time and take home the luxurious pension. The robbery and break in detectives who walked like they knew a deep dark secret about the others, the homicide detectives who walked with a swagger. Egan tried remembering Eugene Francois. The heavily French accented English and his even more annoying habit of mumbling in French had not endeared him to Egan. Eugene didn’t walk with the swagger which most homicide detectives had, neither did he had the smug look which the other detectives seemed to sport on account of them being called detectives. The limp and the cane may have had something to do with it. Egan’s suggestion to promote Eugene to salvage the onslaught and the excavation work which the reporters were doing on the other corrupt cops in the force had seemed like a good move to distract and make the Costello kid kidnap and murder case as an aberration. The move had been welcomed by the Mayor himself. But Eugene seemed to have some sort of a self destruction mechanism. And the call from the Mayor late last night had not pleased him. He knew what he had to do, but he wasn’t too happy about it. ‘Mrs. Spencer, could you place a call to Superintendent Francois please? Actually tell him to come and see me, right away. And clear my schedule for the morning.’ Egan spoke to his secretary over the intercom. His nasally voice not making any attempt to his hide displeasure. Mrs. Spencer nodded her head on the end of the line, as she hurriedly noted down her boss’s instructions on the little flip pad secretaries around the world were recognized with. Mrs. Spencer, a portly seventy year old secretary had been with Jonathan Egan ever since he was made captain. The budgets had been surplus back then, and Jonathan had been earmarked for his astute backroom politics than actual police work. As she dialed the operator, asking him to connect her to Department X, she wondered what wrong had Eugene done. Egan had his morning all planned out, sign couple of papers, then head over to the Mayor’s office and then skip out for couple of rounds of golf. He had been practicing his swing, and now he had to sit and listen to that Frenchman explain why he and those freaks of nature had been calling up Neil Forde and Ivan Kazinsky’s offices so late in the day. The Mayor had been kind to let Egan know, in the middle of the night, long after Egan had called it a night, about what an important role the Forde enterprises had played in him getting reelected. The Mayor then went onto great lengths to explain how he did not appreciate some rookie calling his well wishers and harassing them. Jonathan Egan knew that shit flowed in only one direction. Down. And Eugene Francois would be soon taught a lesson he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

Eugene had woken up feeling good. The case no longer occupied his brain. What did were the images of Eva smiling at him and the sound of her laughter. After dinner, Shanti had suggested that they play a game called ‘Antakshari’, Eugene had no idea what the game was. But he had known Manny tell him about the oodles of fun he and Shanti used to have and that it involved lot of singing. Eugene had excused himself, but when Eva had sung songs, and the way she had looked at him, from the corner of her eyes with her head cast down. He felt like he should do something, like take her in her arms, smell her hair, feel her skin against his. There was so much he suddenly felt like saying to her, but she soon finished singing and Eugene’s nervousness and the need to do something soon resulted in him calling it a night. Manny had already reached office by the time Eugene parked his car. When Eugene entered the office, the worried look on Manny’s face took out all the air from the glorious and joyful hot balloon ride he had been floating around on since last night. ‘What?’ Eugene inquired as he saw Manny get up from his chair. ‘The Chief called.’ ‘What does he want?’ ‘I don’t know. But Mrs. Spencer said it didn’t look good. She told me that you were to report to the Chief the moment you got into office.’ ‘Who is Mrs. Spencer?’ ‘What do you mean who is Mrs. Spencer? She is the Chief’s personal secretary. She has been for god knows how long.’ ‘Okay.’ Eugene replied worriedly as he put his jacket back on. ‘By the way…’ ‘What?’ Eugene barked the question. He knew that the Chief had somehow got wind of the investigation he was conducting. ‘What should I tell Shanti?’ Manny’s voice dropped down to almost a whisper. ‘About what?’ ‘You know… about you and Eva?’ Manny queried, still whispering. ‘I don’t know. She seems nice. But as you can see, I am in for a shit storm. Tell Shanti that I haven’t made up my mind yet’ And with that Eugene walked back to his car. His face covered in a newly formed sheet of perspiration.

The meeting ended the way Egan had anticipated. The Frenchman bumbled and stuttered his answers to all of Egan’s questions. What Egan had not anticipated was Eugene’s defense of complete and total denial. Maybe the Frenchman did have some brains to go along with the balls he had shown in the Costello case. ‘Are you alright dear?’ Mrs. Spencer curiously glanced from her typewriter at Eugene who seemed to be taking the support of her desk to stop his knees from buckling. ‘Oui! Merci!’ He replied, before inquiring, ‘Do you know where I can find a phone to use?’ ‘You can use mine if you want’ Mrs. Spencer pointed her chin at the contraption placed on her desk, before getting back to typing the memo she was busy with. ‘Merci!’ Eugene thanked the woman as he tried remembering the name Manny had mentioned. But he didn’t have time for any of that, he had a bone to pick with the twins and it couldn’t wait. ‘Hello Operator? Yes, could you connect me to 889 – 276 – 9689. Yes! I will hold’ Eugene spoke through his gritted teeth. As he waited for the operator to do his bidding amidst the tones and beeps, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu. His predecessor, Roth, had pulled the same stunt when Eugene and the twins had persisted with the case of the cannibalistic couple. Eugene couldn’t help but feel victimized by the system. A system he didn’t understand. A system he was beginning to recognize as being grey, a system which actively pursued and made efforts to stop him from doing his job. In those brief seconds, he stood there confused, looking at Mrs. Spencer, confused about what he was really expected to do. The Chief had said that as a superintendent, he was supposed to know what the right thing to do was. But he really didn’t. He had no clue. All he had understood was that he should drop the case and tell the twins to back off. This investigation was not authorized. He had been warned that the result of insubordination was not pretty. He knew he had overstepped the demarcated line, but the chief’s reaction by his own measure was bit over the top. And suddenly, he felt anger bursting through his veins. He wanted to punch something or somebody, the kind of anger which doesn’t simmer but erupts like a volcano and threatens to burn and hurt everything in its way. Just then he heard the operator come back on the line. ‘Allô?’ Eugene barked into the phone, he had recognized Eva’s voice. ‘Oh! Hello. Eugene isn’t it?’ ‘Oui! Are they around?’ ‘I am sorry. But they just stepped out. They got some sort of a note with a name written on it. Somebody just slipped it under their door. Isn’t it exciting?’ ‘What? What note? What name?’ Eugene’s voice caused Mrs. Spencer to look up at him with disapproving look. ‘I just told you. Some note that somebody slipped under their door. They have gone to that… What was his name…His name was just like that movie with Robert Taylor and Elizabeth Taylor. They are not brother sisters you know’ Eva rattled on as Eugene wondered how a woman remembered movie star names but couldn’t remember a name which she probably had just heard couple of hours back. ‘Ivanhoe. Yes! That was the name of the movie. They went to see Ivan at his house’ she excitedly spoke over the over. ‘Merci!’ and with that he hung up and furiously rolled the dial on the phone and asked the operator to connect him to Department X. ‘Manny! Quickly get me the address for Ivan Kazinsky… Yeah! I will hold… Thanks!’ he said thanks while looking at Mrs. Spencer. He didn’t want to waste any moment. He knew the twins were up to something and he had to stop them from getting him into further trouble with the chief.

16 “What are the facts? Again and again and again – what are the facts? Shun wishful thinking, ignore divine revelation, forget what “the stars foretell,” avoid opinion, care not what the neighbors think, never mind the unguessable “verdict of history” – what are the facts, and to how many decimal places? You pilot always into an unknown future; facts are your single clue. Get the facts!” — Robert A. Heinlein

The twins had paid the cabbie with generous tips in appreciation of him keep quiet the whole journey. They checked and double checked the address. They stood in front of the plush high rise apartment. ‘Posh innit?’ Alfie commented as both the brothers craned their necks to look at the top of the building. ‘Reckon it is about five maybe six years old, which is relatively new according to real estate standards. And they do have that door buzzer. Think they call it electric doorstrikes. Posh indeed’ Andy concluded as both of them mentally counted the number of floors in the building, all twenty one floors. ‘What do you know about real estate?’ ‘You are not the only one who reads the newspaper you know?’ ‘Don’t be such a sour puss. It was a joke. Anyway…It says Ivan Kazinsky. 20th floor’ Alfie commented, impressed as he pressed on the buzzer repeatedly.
‘Looks like nobody is home’ ‘Well, thank you there Mr. Captain Obvious’ Alfie annoyedly replied. ‘What? What are you doing?’ Andy frightfully questioned as he saw Alfie run his fingers down the series of buttons against all the residents of the high rise. ‘You said it was an electric doorstrike, which means that this main door can be opened by any of the phone systems kept inside. And I saw this in one of the movies Dom had playing at his pub.’ Alfie replied with a cheeky smile. ‘The florist’s right? Come in. Come in’ ‘Yes ma’am’ Alfie replied as he winked at Andy. They heard the electronic buzzer and the gate’s latches unlocking itself. ‘Who was that?’ Andy questioned as they opened the gate and waited for the lift to reach ground floor. ‘Do you really think I know? Also, how does it matter? We are in and we are going to pay Mr. Kazinsky a visit.’ Alfie condescendingly replied. He hated it when his brother got all morally self righteous. ‘But that woman?’ ‘Well, she was waiting for the florist, not emergency services. She will live. Jesus!’ Alfie rolled his eyes as he punched the lift button marked twenty as he mumbled. ‘One score. Getting Plenty. Blind two zero. Twenty’ ‘Where did you learn the Housey - Housey numbers from?’ Andy inquired, forgetting about the woman who was waiting for the florists to knock on her door. ‘The same place as you. Wednesdays are Housey – Housey nights’ Alfie chuckled. ‘I wonder why Dom even has those at his pub. It is just bunch of old people knocking numbers off their slips of paper. But then again, they are old people. Lord alone knows what keeps them entertained.’ Andy commented, more to himself than his brother. He could the claustrophobia setting in. As panic began to tighten his grip around his palpitating heart and sweat uniting into beads. Ready to revolt on his forehead. Alfie continued chuckling. The doors of the lift separated from each other like the red sea parting on Moses’s command. The whole floor had just one door, the numbers 038, hanging off it like wild game trophies. As the twins walked towards the door, they could find themselves reflected on the shiny gold plated numbers. ‘Who knocks?’ Alfie queried as they stood in front of Ivan Kazinsky’s penthouse. ‘It is your turn’ Andy reflexively replied. ‘How is it my turn? I was the one who was pressed all those buzzers downstairs’ Alfie explained vexedly. ‘Fine then! Have it your way’ Andy knocked on the door and waited, before raising his eyebrows and questioning, ‘Why are we knocking again? Didn’t his secretary tell us that he is not reachable on his home phone?’ ‘Well, we don’t have any other choice now do we? Especially after the note we got in the morning’ Alfie thumped his hands on the door, with a little more force than he had intended and the door opened and slightly putting the twins off balance. ‘Well, if he wasn’t at home then why is the door left open then?’ Alfie questioned as the twins steadied themselves and tentatively walked into the flat. ‘Hello? Mr. Kazinsky? Anybody?’ Andy timidly questioned as the twins surveyed the living room. Alfie pointed to the blood on the floor as they gingerly made their way into the flat. Just then they heard the shrill noise of the buzzer ringing overhead them. ‘What the? Jesus! That scared me’ Andy muttered as he clutched his chest. ‘Somebody else is trying to buzz Mr. Kazinsky’ Alfie motioned to intercom next to the door. ‘Yes?’ Alfie mumbled with a deeper tone in his voice to disguise his voice as he pressed the speak icon on the button displayed on the plastic box. ‘Er… Hello? This is Superintendent Eugene Francois, could I come up and speak with you please?’ ‘Oh! Eugene! Come up! Come up! You are going to like this’ Alfie excitedly spoke into the receiver of the intercom system and pressed the button with the gate icon on it. The twins waited for Eugene to come up while continuing to survey the living room. It was in a mess. Used tissues strewn around, dried driblets of blood leading to the couch. The room was well light by the sun streaming through the curtains which were pulled down in protest. The television was still on and so was the VCR. The rest of the room was in a mess. They could see small heap of white powder lying spread on the table. Andy looked out for the lift door to open while Alfie looked on earnestly at the lock on the door. ‘Ce qui dans le monde sont vous deux là?’ Eugene barked as soon he got off the lift and headed towards the open door. ‘What? What? Slow down there’ Andy raised his hands defensively. ‘What in the world are you two doing here?’ Eugene translated his question, the anger still singeing every syllable. ‘Hey! We just reached here!’ Andy replied defensively. ‘Eugene… I think you might want to calm down before you call the crime scene tech sqaud’ Alfie mumbled absentmindedly. ‘Why?’ Eugene yelled, before realizing the clutter and mess he found standing in the middle of it. ‘And be careful of the blood on the floor’ Alfie pointed to Eugene’s shoes. ‘What happened? Eva said you guys got some sort of note’ ‘Yes we did. What do you make of this?’ Alfie motioned Andy to bend down, as he pointed at the crumpled bits of dried wet wipes on the floor. ‘I think Ivan Kazinsky was both cocaine junkie and was a very lonely man’ Eugene replied as he put his little finger over the white powder and placed it on the tip of tongue. ‘Is that what this is?’ Andy quizzed perplexedly, his revulsion threatening to get the better of him. ‘I am afraid so. So you mind filling me in as to what happened after I left your apartment and why I had Chief Egan skin me alive today morning?’ Eugene inquired suddenly remembering the horrid dressing down he had received in the morning. The twins recounted the article which connected Peter Hailey, one of the dead with Ivan Kazinsky and then their failed attempt to get in touch with either Ivan or Neil Forde. Before recounting what had transpired in the morning. ‘Well, apparently Neil Forde’s secretary did some researching on you and me before she spoke with Neil. Who then very graciously pulled the mayor’s ears and then I got to hear all about it in the most colorful language. English!’ Eugene grumbled. ‘This is just like that time when Roth wanted us to stop interfering in that Costello kid’s kidnap and murder case. This is so weird’ Andy exclaimed. ‘Do you think we should wait for the crime tech to arrive or should we just hit rewind on the VCR and see what Ivan was watching before he disappeared.’ Alfie looked at Eugene inquiringly and watched him nod his assent. ‘Isn’t that his wife?’ Andy exclaimed as he remembered the picture of a happily married couple from one of the tabloids they had seen the previous day at the library. ‘Yes. It is. Though I am not sure if it is related to the case. And I do think that Eugene now has some ammunition to fight for us to continue investigating’ Alfie smiled. The images on screen somehow excited him. Andy looked worriedly at his brother. ‘Why are you getting excited?’ Andy whispered to his brother, as they watched Eugene put a handkerchief over the phone receiver and dial the number for the crime scene tech. ‘I think whoever kidnapped Ivan must have seen this video. And…’ ‘They apparently are tied up at some other crime scene. It will take them another couple of hours to get here.’ Eugene interrupted Alfie.
‘Good! Good! Gives us lot more time before those guys come and contaminate the scene’ Alfie excitedly spoke out aloud, before continuing, ‘I am sure there is not much which gives us to clues to who the perpetuator was. But Ivan was seated here on the couch. The television was on, playing this video on high volume, which didn’t give Ivan much chance to react as the man made his way through the door. The mess, the pulled down curtains were intentionally done. And there is one spot where you can make out that Ivan was wheeled out from here. So as to avoid questions in case any neighbor saw these two walking out of the door. Clever!’ Alfie spoke to nobody in particular. ‘But how did he overpower Ivan? Ivan was at least six feet tall and was all bulked up. He could easily overpower and fight off all three of us at once’ Andy wondered aloud. ‘You are underestimating the man and his intelligence Andy. Notice these dark spots on the cushions. Look at the shape they have made. Like whatever it was just pooled itself and spread over the cushion before being absorbed by the cloth. As Ivan lay lying there, immobile while the man went and pulled down the curtains and trashed the rest of the place.’ ‘Dried drool!’ Andy exclaimed as he realized what his brother was pointing. ‘Wait! What does this mean?’ it was Eugene’s turn to exclaim as he stood over and peered curiously at the cushion which Alfie was pointing. ‘Well, it means Ivan is not missing. He was removed from his apartment. Drugged of course! Which also explains why Ivan didn’t fight back. And the way the drool marks are beginning to fade, I would say this was done about couple of days back.’ Andy helped Eugene out of his misery. ‘Two days to be exact’ Alfie added. ‘You guys know all this by looking at what you think is dried drool on the cushion?’ Eugene inquired, impressed as he tried searching for the things which informed the twins all that they knew. ‘Well, we did our own experiments on how long a drool takes to dry and what sort of shape it leaves when we were kids. We had to make up our own fun and games since we weren’t allowed to play with others’ Andy explained smilingly. ‘Looking at Ivan’s disposition to watch himself forcibly copulate with women, I wouldn’t be surprised if there are more video tapes hidden somewhere in the house.’ Alfie commented, still smiling. ‘I will let the crime tech team know. In the meantime, I will start questioning the people in the building. See if they know anything.’ Eugene replied as he scanned the room one last time. ‘Guess even we will leave too’ Andy suggested as he looked at his brother, before adding, ‘in sometime’. They watched Eugene leave. Alfie pointed to one of the crumpled wet wipes. ‘What is it?’ Andy suspiciously eyed his brother and the strewn crumpled wet wipes which adorned the floor. ‘That one over there’ Alfie pointed as he tried squatting and then looked at his brother to cooperate and kneel down alongside him. ‘Are you sure you should be touching that? The man did wipe his penis on it you know?’ Andy tried his best to try and avoid getting repulsed by what his brother was doing. ‘This? Are you sure?’ Alfie tried making his brother smell the now dry and crumpled wet wipe. ‘Don’t do that! You are such a jerk Alfie!’ Andy protested as he tried turning his face away from his brother’s extended hand. ‘God! You are such a prissy prude. It is nothing. It is clean. This is not like those. Now help me straighten this piece of paper.’ Alfie thrust the paper in front of him, it was then that Andy recognized the antique paper. They carefully straightened the crumpled piece of paper, not sure if it was crumpled around something. Both of them read the note and looked at each other. Alfie looked excited while Andy continued to look confused. The note read.

Annie Salvatore Daughter & Sister 1951 - 1968

‘Should we tell this to Eugene?’ Andy asked, not sure if they had just tampered with evidence. ‘Yes. We should. He would be the best person who can dig up the case files, if there are any. Wouldn’t be surprised if it is missing’ Alfie mumbled. The phone shrilly rang, startling the twins. ‘Hello? Is Superintendent Francois around?’ ‘Manny?’ Andy recognized the voice on the other end of the line. Wondering how he had managed to know where to call. ‘Yes? Can I speak with Superintendent Francois please?’ Manny’s surprised look carried itself well over the telephone lines as Andy smiled. ‘Hello. How are you? This is Andy. Remember we worked together on the Costello kid case?’ Andy beamed into the phone. He had found Manny to be a funny and an interesting character. ‘Oh yes! Hello. Now could I speak with Eugene please? Is he there? I know he is there, he took the address from me.’ Manny exasperatedly spoke into the phone. And right on cue, Eugene walked back into Ivan Kazinsky’s apartment. ‘None of the neighbors heard or saw anything. Best bet is the apartment supervisor, but he is gone out. Should be back in the evening, hopefully he should remember having seen or heard something’ Eugene resignedly spoke before noticing the phone receiver being thrust towards him. ‘Allô?’ Eugene tentatively spoke into the phone, surprised that he had got a phone call on this phone line. The twins keenly observed the goose bumps which sprouted on Eugene’s neck as he continued to silently hear everything Manny had to convey. ‘Alright! Can you give me the address?… Merci!’ Eugene commanded, as he furiously jotted down whatever Manny was reciting from the other end of the line. Right before Eugene put the receiver back into its place, he asked a single pertinent question, ‘How did you get to know about this?’, as he heard Manny’s explanation, he chuckled out aloud. ‘Keep up the good work Manny! And Merci! I will keep you posted on whatever takes place. Oh! Also, can you come down to where Kazinsky stays. Stayed. And interview the building supervisor if he heard or saw something unusual that day. Merci.’ ‘Is everything okay? Manny sounded harassed over the phone.’ Andy questioned, Alfie suddenly beamed and slapped his hands on the table excitedly. ‘They found Ivan Kazinsky’s body. Somebody left an anonymous tip. Manny apparently had pulled in a few favors with the HQ to let him know if the others got to hear anything about any of the people related to this case. Guess it paid off’ ‘Well, crime scene tech knows the address to this place, find something to wedge under the door. And let us go!’ Alfie excitedly ordered his brother and Eugene.

‘How did you know that the call was regarding Ivan Kazinsky?’ Andy questioned his brother as the three of them drove to the address Manny had excitedly recited to Eugene over the phone. ‘You remember how I told you that we were discussing the case serendipitously?’ ‘Yeah!’ ‘Well, I am beginning to think that there were no happy accidents as far as this case is considered. It was all planned and orchestrated from the very beginning. This is just too much fun!’ ‘What do you mean?’ Andy persisted. ‘Eugene?’ Alfie turned his face towards Eugene who was busy looking at the traffic signal to turn green. ‘Yeah!’ ‘How did you come across this particular case file?’ ‘Actually Manny was the one who had stumbled across the heaps and heaps of files we have lying around’ Eugene replied as he shifted the gear and pressed his foot on the accelerator. This made Alfie scrunch his eyebrows together and lose himself in deep thought. ‘Actually, Manny had just signed the delivery sheet and the file was horizontally over the other files which were stacked vertically.’ Eugene mumbled as he mentally ran the images from that day in his mind. Alfie’s eyebrows undid themselves and a wide impish grin spread over his face like butter on a hot toast.
‘Oh! We completely forgot to tell you. We found this note crumpled and thrown along with the others.’ Andy pulled out the folded note from his jacket pocket. ‘This is just so much fun!’ Alfie slapped the car’s dashboard and gleefully exclaimed.

17 “When the body escaped mutilation, seldom did the heart go to the grave unscarred.” — Virginia Woolf

Ivan Kazinsky’s body lay in the gutters, well hidden by the leaves and rolled tightly in black plastic garbage bags. The discovery of the body would have taken longer, had it not been the discharge of the excess rainwater running through the drains which washed the body clear of the leaves. The stench had soon started permeating the wet muddy slush the body was resting in. The crime scene tech team had been careful while cutting open the garbage bags off the body. The sight caused more than one member of the crime scene tech unit to put a hand over their surgical masks to stop themselves from regurgitating their morning breakfast. It didn’t take long for them to realize that the cause of death was the deliberate skinning of the chest and uprooted heart which was stuffed in the victim’s mouth. And in place where the heart should have been there, the victim’s wallet was crudely stuffed. The stomach acid was beginning to leak through the gaping hole in the victim’s chest. The first signs of tetanus were beginning to show in the victim’s body. Luckily for the reporting homicide detective, the wallet seemed to have the man’s driving license. Despite the smile carved on the man’s face, it wasn’t hard to make identification. The crime scene tech unit were just clearing and head over to Ivan Kazinsky’s apartment when Eugene, Alfie and Andy reached the place where the victim was found. Eugene pulled rank on the homicide detective and the crime scene tech unit and demanded to see the body. ‘Looks like that bloke in the batman comics you read doesn’t it?’ Andy remarked as he clinically looked at the man’s face before his eyes trailed at the gaping hole in the man’s chest. ‘Yes it does, and boy did the man take his time with him. And, after all these years, a proper murder.’ ‘Take it away! Go over to his apartment and then send me over the report by end of day tomorrow. I want all hands on this case’ Eugene commanded as he looked at the detective and the crime scene tech unit leader squarely in the eyes, till they nodded. It didn’t take long.

Manny had trudged his cycle over to the high rise as Eugene had instructed him. As Manny huffed and puffed as he knocked over the heavy door. As he caught his breath back, he yelled ‘Hello?’ loud enough for the clouds to cover the sun in mock protest. His banging and yelling caused one of the residents to call up the supervisor to complain, who immediately jumped into action. ‘STOP THAT! Else I will call the police!’ The man threatened as he buzzed the door open. ‘I am the police!’ Manny exclaimed as he looked at the scruffy looking man in black jeans and checkered shirt with a blue vest on top with the words ‘Supervisor’ inscribed on its pocket. ‘Where is your badge then?’ the hostility and the skepticism in the man’s voice was not missed by Manny as he searched his jacket’s in pockets for his badge. The fact that Manny was there to question the supervisor and not the other way around was however was lost on Manny. ‘Here! Detective Inspector Manpreet Singh. Are you supervisor?’ Manny inquired as he let the man study and memorize his badge. ‘Oh! Yes! Sorry. Some of the residents were complaining about the noise’ the man with the supervisor written on his vest pocket apologized.
‘Well is there somewhere we can talk?’ Manny pocketed his badge and spoke as he glanced at the clouds. The sky had suddenly turned grey and pregnant. Manny mentally noted that he would have to finish this interview real quick if he wanted to get back to office and home dry and safe. ‘Yeah sure, my office is this way’ the supervisor led him through the small door as they walked around the elevator. ‘What is your name?’ Manny inquired as he flipped open his pocket notebook. ‘Alex. Alex Olsen.’ ‘And how long have you been the supervisor of this building?’ ‘Well, for the last six years, ever since they finished constructing this place. They say this is the first of its kind in the city. Real posh people live here you know. Rich but the kinds whose names you don’t find strewn around the tabloids you know’ ‘And what were you doing before this?’ ‘Oh! I was a general contractor. You know fixing pipes and lights and that sort of thing, just a small time handyman really.’ ‘Where were you on the 12th of this month?’ ‘Um…’ Alex, the supervisor glanced at the table calendar on his desk before replying, ‘I was here all day. Didn’t have to go out to get any supplies. But, I did had to take Mrs. Nesser’s dogs out for a walk in the middle of the night. That old woman I tell you, I will probably die taking her dogs out for a walk than electrocuting myself on the job. You know what I am saying?’ The man chuckled aloud, his laugh reminded Manny of a large sailboat. Like the ones he had seen on television when he was young and sneakily watched the Sunday early morning cartoons before his parents or grandparents woke up. ‘How was Mr. Ivan Kazinsky as a tenant?’ ‘Oh! Mr. Kazinsky? He is a real ladies man. You know what I mean? He know how to party you know? He was real nice you know, used to tip me real well too. Is he in trouble?’ ‘I guess. You can say that. He is dead.’ ‘Oh! Guess whatever he had was serious enough to kill him. He was a real nice man you know.’ Alex exclaimed in shock. ‘What did he have? Did you see Mr. Kazinsky on the 12th?’ ‘Oh! I don’t know. And yeah! I saw him couple of times that day. It was a Sunday you see. Mr. Kazinsky had a real simple routine that day. He would come back home real late on Saturday night. And then he will fix himself a nice hearty brunch or something. He would go shopping for that in the morning. You see he always used to say to me. Alex, there is nothing better than cooking a freshly cooked meal before eating it. It used to be our little joke. He was a funny man. You know what I mean? Anyway, later on in the evening, he would again hit the bars and the clubs. On some nights he would come back with women so sozzled out of their heads that I would have to help him carry them upstairs. And some occasions there were more than one. He was a proper ladies man, you know. A rich man has his quirks and hobbies you know. But he was real nice. Never used to annoy or bother me, unlike the kids in apartment 17. Real pain in the backside. You know what I mean?’ ‘So you saw Mr. Kazinsky on the 12th?’ ‘Yeah! I saw him go get his groceries in the morning like he used. Then he headed out, later in the evening. He came back home alone that night, he was not in the best of the moods you know. Anyway, I saw him again being wheeled out by his friend.’ ‘What friend?’ ‘Well, a man was wheeling out Mr. Kazinsky, he didn’t seem so good to look at you know. He looked like proper sick. The man said that he was Mr. Kazinsky’s friend and that Mr. Kazinsky had called him and told him that he wasn’t feeling well and that he had come to take him to the hospital.’ ‘How did that man look like?’ ‘His friend was a real good looking man you know what I mean. Like the prim and proper kinds you know. And a perfect set of white teeth. I noticed that because you know, I am kind of ashamed of my own teeth. Years of chewing tobacco have kind of ruined it for me. See’ Alex flashed his brown, twisted rotten teeth at Manny whose face reflexively scrunched up like a paper ball at the sight. ‘Do you remember anything else about this friend of Mr. Kazinsky who wheeled him away?’ ‘He was standing right under the stoop lights you know. He had a cap on, like you know the ones newspaper boys used to wear in the olden days. But he had a real nice smile. He was a proper gent, you know, just like Mr. Kazinsky, he even gave me ten pounds for helping Mr. Kazinsky into the car. Not a great looking car. It was a Vauxhall or one of those models you know. Not the best looking car on the roads. I think the security tapes should be here somewhere.’ ‘You have security cameras?’ Manny inquired, surprised that a residential apartment had a security camera and surprised that Alex, the supervisor, hadn’t mentioned it so far. ‘Oh yeah! This is one of those new buildings you know.’ Alex, the supervisor, turned the small portable television on his table around to Manny before continuing, ‘It is supposedly modeled after some science writer bloke, I can’t remember who, but apparently he had predicted that all future homes would have this sort of a security system. All video cameras and all. Weird innit? Everything is recorded. Even you standing and shouting at the front is recorded. The main door can be opened by any of the apartments if you buzz that button on that plastic box. And they do it with a special phone in their apartments. I don’t know why rich people are always so worried about things. You know what I mean? Like somebody is going to rob them or kill them. Paranoia. Money doesn’t buy you happiness I tell you. All it does is buy you truck loads of paranoia. You know what I mean? Soon, there will be phones in people’s car. And then people will have phones which they can carry anywhere they go. You know what I mean? Completely bat shit crazy! But rich people… You know. They have their own quirks and hobbies. And the pay is not that bad. The job even gives you health benefits you know.’ Alex the supervisor chuckled as he opened the drawer on his desk and flipped the VHS tapes with the dates marked on them. ‘Ah! Here! 12th of April’ Alex, the supervisor took the video cassette out. And pressed the square shaped icon on the videocassette recorder, pressed the underlined pyramid icon in a flurry and watched the machine spit out an identical looking black rectangular box. He put the tape marked 12th April, 1991 and pressed the icon marked with two greater than symbols, as Manny watched the comical silent movie of people coming in and out of the main door. Alex, supervisor finally pressed the parallel bar shaped icon on the VCR and paused the image with the man wearing the newspaper boys’ cap. Manny could feel his pulse race as he saw the man on the television turn his head and smile at the camera. Manny was dead certain that it was the same picture he had seen at the Chartoff Retirement Home for Senior Citizens. It was the same man, aged between his thirties and forties, Manny could tell that the man had blonde hair, same pretty face which Irene, the receptionist at the old age home, had described. The same aquiline nose, the man was about five eleven, six feet tall, broad shouldered. ‘See! That’s his car. Right there’ Alex, the supervisor exclaimed as he continued to play the tape and pointed at the car in the background, as Manny furiously jotted down the man’s description in his little pocket notebook. Manny couldn’t make out the blurred out car number in the background, but he tried his best to make out the letters and the numbers as he diligently noted it down. ‘Oh! I remember his name now’ Alex exclaimed as he banged slapped the desk. ‘What name?’ ‘He said his name was Oscar. Like the children’s story. That’s what he said’. The pregnant clouds thundered raising a false alarm about their water breaking as Manny made his way back to office.

18 “Don’t let us forget that the causes of human actions are usually immeasurably more complex and varied than our subsequent explanations of them.” — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

‘Hello?’ ‘Yes?’ ‘Hi. This is Neil Forde. My secretary told me that you wanted to speak with me?’ ‘Oh! Yes. Yes. I suppose you finally put together two and two together. And I reckon you heard about your friend Ivan Kazinsky and the others. And you have finally decided that we didn’t call to harass you. Anyway, I guess you have questions and we have questions, I suppose it is best if you come down our flat. I hope you have a pen and paper handy. The address is 201, Swann Street. And you can come now if you please. The sooner we put an end to this, the better it is for all of us’ Alfie hurriedly spoke into the phone. ‘I will be there in another hour or so’ ‘That would be lovely!’ And with that Alfie placed the phone back into its resting position. ‘Who was that?’ Eva questioned as Andy poured over the copy of the findings the crime scene tech unit and coroner’s report Eugene had shared with the twins. ‘Neil Forde’ Alfie absentmindedly replied as he poured over the report his brother was reading. ‘That explains how he managed to overpower Ivan Kazinsky’ Andy replied as he underlined the coroner’s report which mentioned minute traces of a semi – synthetic opioid called Etorphine with his index finger. ‘Isn’t Etorphine used by veterinarians to immobilize large animals?’ ‘Yes. Wonder if Eugene may have any luck with tracing its origin. Would be difficult to say the least’ As they read the rest of the report, especially the description of the man called Oscar, presumably Oscar Salvatore. White male; Six feet tall; Blonde hair; Straight nose; Grey eyes; Good manners; Oval face; Clean shaven. The description matched with statement the receptionist at the retirement home had given. But unfortunately, they, Irene, the receptionist and Alex, the building supervisor, couldn’t remember anything in particular for the sketch artist to work with. ‘Hold on a second!’ Alfie exclaimed, startling both Andy and Eva. ‘What?’ Andy barked as he tried to compose his heart to beat regularly. ‘Where is that yearbook?’ Alfie demanded as he continued to stare at the report with an intensity which was beginning to bother Eva. ‘What yearbook?’ Eva worriedly inquired as Andy pointed at the yearbook kept by the bedside. ‘Oh! The yearbook with all those kids photographs… Here’ ‘This doesn’t make any sense!’ Alfie commented as he took the yearbook from Eva’s extended hand and hurriedly flipped open the yearbook and shifted his steely gaze onto the photograph. ‘What doesn’t make any sense?’ Andy replied as he tried following his brother’s line of vision to see what was puzzling him. And it was then he saw the picture of the Drama Club, Class of 1967 – 1968. ‘What are you guys all excited and confused about? And how can you guys be both excited and confused? Like at the same time’ Eva questioned as she handed out Alfie and Andy their fifth cup of coffee and tea since morning. ‘Here! Now describe what you see in this picture’ Alfie said as he handed her the open yearbook while pointing to the picture in question. ‘Well it says, left to right, Oscar Salvatore, Annie Salvatore, Susan Olsen, Ivan Kazinsky, Neil Forde senior, Neil Forde Junior, Richard Salvatore, Karan Kapoor and Naoko Higashino’ ‘Yes, it does. How would you describe Oscar Salvatore?’ Alfie probed on. ‘He looks like a regular kid. He does look younger than the others. But nothing different about him really’ ‘He means to ask you to tell him how he physically appears’ ‘That’s what I said didn’t I?’ Eva looked confused, before finally understanding what the twins were questioning her, ‘Oh! You mean to tell you how he looks looks?’ ‘Yes. Now, if you please’ Alfie sarcastically motioned her to continue which was met by Eva rolling her eyes and a quick shuffle of her lips. ‘Well, he is a dark haired boy, cute little button like nose, brown or black eyes. It is hard to tell from this picture. Round shaped face.’ Eva continued before Alfie interrupted her. ‘Brown actually. Brown eyes Eva. And black hair’ Alfie commented as he nudged at his brother to hold the cigarette pack steady for him to take a stick out and light it up with his lighter. ‘Couldn’t he have his appearance altered? I mean it has been well over two decades’ Andy commented as he motioned Eva to hand the yearbook back to him. ‘He could have. But didn’t. Why would a man who is not afraid to use his name change his appearance?’ Alfie spoke in short and quick bursts as he held the cigarette smoke just a tad bit longer in his chest to help his blood stream absorb the nicotine quicker than it was used to. ‘So… Does that mean?’ Andy left the incomplete question hanging in the air. ‘Yes! It means that there are two people involved in this case and not one. But…’ ‘But what?’ ‘But I am not sure… We have been underestimating this man since the very beginning. Not only is he clever, almost bordering on genius, but he also has an accomplice, somebody very loyal and close to him. The real question is… who is who?’ Alfie mumbled to himself as he pulled hard on his cigarette. His attention suddenly distracted by his brother’s insistence to move and reach for the telephone. ‘Who are you calling?’ ‘Neil Forde of course!’ ‘Why?’ ‘Well, for somebody who is as smart as you, sometimes you are as daft as a goose. Calling him to get his old high school pictures when he comes over’ ‘Ah! Yes. That is a good thought.’ Alfie absentmindedly smiled and proceeded to lose himself in his stream of thought. Nobody spoke much for the next couple of hours as Andy continued to re-read the report, Alfie continued to smoke and Eva proceeded to clean up the house for their guest and put a fresh kettle on.

‘Oh! It is you!’ Eva cheerfully exclaimed as she answered the door and greeted Eugene. ‘Why? Were you expecting somebody else?’ Eugene replied with a vague tinge of jealousy in his voice as he helped Ian wheel himself in.
‘Hey-llo!’ Ian waved at the twins as he wheezed the salutation. Andy blushed while Alfie beamed smilingly and returned the greeting. Eugene’s question went answered as Eva smiled coquettishly and went to add more water into the kettle for the unexpected guests. ‘I got yuh-are mess-age. So-hairy, ‘ave’nt bin keeping too well. Pain yuh know’ Ian remarked pointing to his legs as he wheeled himself in and shook hands with the twins. ‘Yeah! I was driving down here and I saw Ian wheeling himself down the road. Oh! And good news! Chief Egan apparently no longer has an issue with us going forward with the investigation.’ Eugene remarked as he took off his jacket and hung it on the coat hanger as he closed the door. ‘That is good news. Hopefully we don’t have somebody else wanting to throw a monkey wrench in’ Andy spoke as he consciously tried avoiding meeting Ian’s grey eyes. ‘Neil Forde is coming in soon. Hopefully we should get to know more about this case.’ Alfie replied as he lit up another cigarette. ‘So so-hairy. I didn’t know yuh guh-ayes were busy with this new case. I whee-ill see yuh guh-ayes some other time’ ‘No. No. Please stay. We always have a place for an extra mind to make sense of things’ Alfie urged Ian to reconsider. But Andy could tell his guests response from the frown which had knotted itself on Ian’s face when Alife had mentioned Neil Forde’s name. ‘Fee-illing see-ick’ Ian replied as he pointed to his tummy. ‘Well then in that case, Eva, could you help Ian down the stairs.’ Alfie suggested as he looked at Eva whose shoulder’s dropped at the prospect of helping a grown man down the stairs in his wheel chair. ‘So what else have you found?’ Alfie inquired after Ian bid his goodbyes to the twins and Eugene and Eva wheeled him out of the apartment. ‘Well we traced the car number back to a car registered to one Oscar Salvatore. Paid in full by cash, the insurance on the car however does give an address to a under construction building. Construction apparently has been stopped because of some union issues there. Doesn’t seem to hold much promise, anyway have told Manny to check that place out later in the evening before he heads back to home.’ As the twins were sharing their suspicions with Eugene they heard a knock on the door. ‘Must be Neil Forde’ Andy remarked. ‘You really ought to get your calling bell fixed’ Eugene commented as he got up to answer the knock on the door. ‘Good afternoon!’ the man greeted Eugene. Dressed in impeccably cut grey suit with a light sky blue shirt, shirt cuffs pulled out just enough for the expensive looking cufflinks to catch an observer’s eyes. Eugene nodded his head and ushered the man inside. He was a good looking man. Eugene had to reluctantly accept the fact. And it didn’t take Eugene Alfie’s keen observing skills to ascertain the fact that the man was beyond rich. Eugene just hoped that Eva wouldn’t take fancy to this good looking man and apparently rich man. Eugene wondered if the man was crafted from the same mold which defined the blue eyed boys born with silver spoons. Eugene nervously ran his hands through his heavily gelled blonde hair. ‘Good afternoon’ the man acknowledged the twins. Even though he was mesmerized by the way the twins moved and nodded. ‘You must be Mr. Neil Forde’ Alfie commented as the man looked around for a place to sit. ‘Yes I am. And you are?’ ‘I am Andrew, and this is my brother Alfie. And this is Superintendent Eugene Francois.’ ‘Are you the same one who solved the Costello kid case?’ Neil looked at Eugene with a faint smile. ‘I am. I am also the same person you complained about to the Mayor’ Eugene spoke through his teeth and folded his hands across his chest. ‘Oh! Sorry about that. I have a suspicious ex-boyfriend. And he is looking for any sort of a hook or a crook to get more money from me.’ Neil smiled impishly. Just then Eva walked into the room and shyly walked towards the kitchen. ‘But when I heard about Ivan and then Chief Egan informed me about your investigation about the others, I just found it my moral duty as a citizen to come and speak with you gentlemen to clear things up.’ he continued, his face suggesting equal measures of nonchalance and remorse. ‘I am sure you are one.’ Eugene sarcastically commented as he pulled up a chair and slumped down in the chair. ‘So, Mr. Forde…’ Alfie began, before being interrupted by a raised hand and a smile from Neil. ‘Please call me Neil’. ‘Okay. Neil… Why don’t you begin with telling me about Annie Salvatore?’ Alfie suggested. The name had suddenly cast an ugly scowl of fear and terror on Neil’s face. ‘What about her?’ ‘Well Neil,’ Alfie paused just long enough to look into Neil’s eyes and smile, ‘it has come to our attention that’ Alfie paused long enough for Eva to hand over the cups of tea and coffee to all the men in the room before pretending to busy herself dusting the already clean leather bound books. Alfie continued, ‘It has come to our attention that the Salvatores, especially Annie seem to be integral to this case. So please, feel free to tell us all that you know about her and her relationship with the others’. The smile had disappeared off Alfie’s face. His jaw was now set hard, the clenching of his teeth made vein in his temples take an exaggerated movement of a steam engine chugging along the railway line. Neil looked at Alfie, he recognized that look. The look which suggested that beating around the bush and sugar coating things would not help his case. He had made a living out of reading people’s faces and what they felt. It was this single ability of Neil’s which had seen him take over the family business from his father right after college. But the past very much like a raw egg. It has a funny way of splattering its innards all over one’s present like a Kamikaze Japanese suicide bomber. ‘It was an accident. It was just an accident’ Neil mumbled. ‘Excusez-moi?’ no sooner had the words exited Eugene’s mouth when the realization dawned on him. Neil Forde, industrialist and millionaire, had demons buried in his closet. And they were tumbling down like avalanche, ready to devour the rich man and bury his well manicured image he projected. ‘She was our physics teacher’s daughter. Always sweet, but perhaps a little too eager. She had a thing for me. That’s what the others kept teasing me about. I didn’t know I was gay back then. She wasn’t a stunner like Naoko or Susan, but she wasn’t bad to look at either you know. We had been friends since kindergarten. But you know Ivan, Naoko and Susan were always were a bit mean to her. They always made fun of her clothes and the way she behaved. She didn’t come from money. She was just our physics teacher’s daughter. And teachers don’t make that much money. She always wore these dresses which her mum stitched for her. She was sweet. She was bubbly and one of those up and about sorts of girl. But when you grow up in money and with money, you see the world in a very different way than the rest. You create this sort of belvedere upon which you stand and see the rest of the world. Ridiculing and mocking them. Annie was part of that world. I think Annie always wanted to get up on the platform and view the world the way we did. She was always hanging around Susan and Naoko like some groupie and they treated her bad. They were cruel to her. They treated her like some sort of a cheap labor. Anyway, I think Peter had a thing for her. But poor sod was too shy to say or do anything about. The GCSEs results had just arrived by mail and my old man had wanted to celebrate in style. So he told me to invite all my teachers and friends. And, I had decided that none of the old geezers would come. No teachers. I didn’t want them to come and lord over us and ruin the party by giving us all sorts of lecture about how we got all this potential and how we shouldn’t be wasting away all this talent. I didn’t want any of that spoiling our bit of fun. Ivan had wanted me to accompany him when he went to pick some speed for the party. And I did’ Neil looked nervously towards Eugene, noticing no response or reprimand from the police officer, he continued, ‘Ivan insisted upon it. It was just for recreational purposes anyway. Ivan had already developed a taste for those things by then. And we had these fake IDs which we occasionally used to sneak into clubs and get couple of pints of lager. So we used those cards to buy some real alcohol, whisky and vodka and that sort of stuff. We had become adults that day. And we were soon going to be sent off to college. And so we had decided that we would celebrate the occasion like proper adults. We were young and we had all this money. We had to find ways to spend them you see. See the world before the world saw us. We had always known that money could buy the world, but we wanted to see and check the wares before we invested in it. It was then that we saw the girls. Ivan and me. The girls were hanging out at the mall and the girls making Annie carry her all their shopping bags were busy joshing her around. Karan was also with them. Naoko had already started sleeping with him. And that horny bastard couldn’t keep his hands off her either. So I had to invite the girls. And I couldn’t just ignore both Karan and Annie. They were right there. So I invited them over too. We had a little much to drink that night. My father, his friends and Karan were all in my old man’s study. And we guys were in the living room. Like I said, we had a little too much to drink. The girls were getting bored and Ivan was all amped up with speed. And they kept pushing me to make out with Annie. I didn’t want to do it. I was never into girls. But, when you have your friends egging you on, sometimes, the will to say no, well, it just sort of deserts you. Peter, I think, was drinking more than usual. I think he really did like her. But his father would have belted him had he come to know. You see, Peter’s father was a real hard ass. He was old money just like the rest of us, but he had these weird twisted reasoning about who old money should mingle with and who old money bedded, even though he was doing all of his house help. He was a real character. He thought blacks should be kept away and that sort of thing you know. His father would have never allowed Peter to date a girl like Annie. You know somebody from the working class. I think even I had a little too much to drink. And before I knew it, Susan pushed me towards Annie who had been nursing her drink. I think it was the first time she had tasted alcohol. Anyway, we soon found our way to my parent’s bedroom. Even though I was drunk, I saw the look in Peter’s eyes, like he was hurt or something. Like I was betraying him. But I was drunk you see, and my friends were beginning to call me names. Faggot. Homo. Fairy. Poofter. I was not ready to tell them that I was gay. I wish I had. Maybe… But I was drunk. And there was this girl… This girl who seemed to be more than willing to kiss me. I really didn’t want to. But by then I was so drunk that, I would have done a goddamn otter if somebody had dared me to. I think that was the last time I drank alcohol. Because my father shipped me out to an alcohol rehab the next day like I was some sort of an alcoholic.’ Neil spoke as he stared into space like somebody invisible was spinning the spiral wheel for him to jump back to flashback mode. ‘What happened after you and Annie went to your parent’s bedroom’ Andy inquired. Neil hesitated and wiped the sweat which had formed on his suntanned forehead with the pale blue jacket kerchief he had in his breast pocket, before he continued the story again ‘I didn’t know Ivan was already in the room. I really didn’t. Annie had closed her eyes and leaned in to kiss me when Ivan stood up behind her and told me keep quiet. The next thing I knew, that bastard had yanked down Annie’s underwear and had managed to tear her entire dress from the back with a pair of scissors. I really didn’t have any idea. Annie… Well she ran out of the room in tears. She didn’t want to ruin our party. But the rest of them kept laughing like hyenas. I felt bad for her. So I went out to see if she was alright. She was still so sweet. She didn’t blame me or anything. She just rested her head against my chest. I told her that it was none of her fault and I would get her a new dress. The others were just standing and laughing at her. And then…’ The room was silent. The silence was broken only by Alfie offering Neil a cigarette. Eugene helped light both their cigarettes. Eva had long given up cleaning the books and was intently listening to Neil’s version of the story. Andy glanced at the wall clock, whose dials were inching to position themselves at four and twelve. Neil took a long drag from his cigarette before continuing, ‘I was holding her and telling her to ignore all these people. I was going to tell her that I was gay. That I liked boys. You know share a secret. She always was so nice and understanding. She always had this pleasant smile. I don’t remember if I told her or not. But I had something and she had looked at me with these puppy dog eyes and that sweet innocent smile. I think Peter was watching this all the while. He thought I was making a move on his girl. I don’t know what came over him. But he pushed the two of us into the swimming pool. The cold water sort of shocked and sobered me up immediately. The others continued to laugh. I swam back to the deck to punch Peter in the face. We all had a little too much to drink. In that scuffle, we sort of forgot about Annie. We didn’t realize that she didn’t know how to swim. It was all an accident. We didn’t know she couldn’t swim. I didn’t know she couldn’t swim. We were all so young and drunk.’ Neil tried to control the quiver of his lips by taking a deep drag on his cigarette. ‘Why wasn’t this reported to the police?’ Eugene inquired. ‘We paid good money to Annie’s father to keep the matter quiet. And I remember we paid him quite handsomely too.’ ‘Do you remember Annie’s brother?’ Alfie inquired as he picked up his cup of coffee, only to realize that it was empty. ‘Oh yes! Oscar. He was like a blooming genius. Real clever and real smart. He had his IQ tested and it was supposedly very high. But he was a bit of loner, didn’t mingle too much with others except for one or two people apart from his sister. But then again everybody in class was like two years elder to him. And I think I remember Annie telling the girls about him being adopted or something. He was a proper smart kid. We all knew he would probably become a scientist or something. Which reminds me, I did get the photographs you had asked me to get.’ Neil fished into his jacket pocket to fetch them while Eugene and Eva shared awkward smiles from across the room. Neil passed the photographs to Eugene who quickly glanced through them and then passed it over to the twins. ‘Who is this with Oscar?’ Alfie inquired as he passed the photograph to Neil to see. Eugene could notice the worried anticipation written large on the twin’s faces. He leaned in over to see the picture in question. He could tell one of them was the face of Oscar Salvatore and the other looked vaguely familiar. ‘Oh! That is Ian. He was the other fellow who took the IQ test with Oscar. They were proper friends. It was like they spoke in a different language altogether when they spoke with each other. Think they made it up just to keep themselves entertained. It wasn’t like they had to study hard or something. It was like they both knew the answers before the question was asked. They mostly kept to themselves. But they came up with the wickedest of all pranks. They once rigged the school PA system with the fire sprinklers. And they had dyed the water. So when the principal made the morning announcements, the sprinklers sprayed all sorts of colored water down on us. The dye was so strong that it wouldn’t wash off us for weeks. The principal of course couldn’t suspend both of them. They were the star students. So they just got away with detention for a week. They were weird. But they were good. Real smart those two were.’ ‘What did you say the name was?’ Andy quizzed Neil again. While Alfie called out to Eva to get the old yearbook. ‘Ian. Ian Saxenholdt. It was one those funny names you know. Kind of stays with you despite all these years’ Neil smiled as if to apologize to his audience that he still remembered somebody’s name whose shouldn’t have and didn’t matter to him. Alfie and Andy furiously flipped through the pages printed with individual student portraits before finally stopping at the photo of young blonde haired boy with sparkling grey eyes. The name below the photo read, ‘Ian Saxenholdt. Math and Astronomy club president. Class of 1967-68.’ Eugene kept staring at the photograph he held in his hand. He realized that it was Ian, the man in the wheelchair. But, Eugene wasn’t sure if it was the way the faces were lit in the picture or the way the boy was looking at the camera. The corners of his lips so slightly dog eared that it gave the impression that the boy was mocking at Eugene. Something about the boy, the way he looked and the way he was smiling back at Eugene from the photograph was troubling. The thought had planted itself in Eugene’s mind like an itch on his back, in a spot which his hands couldn’t immediately reach. The more he looked at the picture, the more the itch seemed to spread itself like a wild rash. As the synapses in his brain fired and connected, he exclaimed out aloud as the relief finally came to him in the form of a realization. ‘Viens m’enculer!’ Eugene cursed aloud, loud enough for the twins, Neil and Eva to stare at him worriedly. The face which was staring back at him from the photograph was the same face he had seen wearing the courier uniform and handing Manny the case files. And his name was Ian Saxenholdt. And he wasn’t seated in a wheelchair. ‘Were Oscar or Ian there at the party?’ Eugene inquired as he recovered from the shock of his shocking realization. ‘No. They weren’t. They never hung out with us much. The girls never liked Ian much. He had this creepy quality to him. They said he freaked them out. But he was alright I reckon. He never did bother us much. He always busy talking with Oscar and they always used to hang out at the public library.’ ‘Which public library was that?’ Andy curiously inquired. ‘Oh! It was the city public library. You know the one where the midget is the librarian. He stammers to. He used to so annoyed by us when we used to go there to get books for assignments and that sort of thing. But he always was nice to Oscar and Ian.’ Andy and Alfie looked at each other. The librarian Neil was talking about was none other than their landlord, Mr. Robbins.

Nice twist. Except I’m thinking there’s a double twist coming up

19 “You can always change your plan, but only if you have one.” — Randy Pausch

Eugene insisted on putting few plainclothes detectives on security detail for Neil. But Neil had insisted otherwise. Just before Neil left the building, Andy suggested that he be careful and if he finds anything odd to call their number or Dom’s. It was time for Eva to leave as well, but Alfie insisted on her making one last cup of tea and coffee for the twins and for Eugene. Eva had hoped that she could hitch a ride with Neil instead of waiting for the bus. As Eva went back to put a fresh kettle on, the twelfth since morning, the three men sat in silence as they went over that they now were in possession of. ‘So what do you reckon?’ Alfie inquired as he looked at his brother and Eugene lost in deep thought as he crumpled and threw the empty pack of cigarette. ‘Oi! I just cleaned that place’ Eva yelled from the kitchen as she saw Alfie discard the crumpled empty box of cigarettes like a frustrated writer not happy with his first draft. ‘You can clean it again tomorrow. Now get me a new pack of cigarettes from the drawer by my bedside’ Alfie yelled back, the scornful look on Eva’s face forced him to append and amend his previous statement. ‘Sorry! Can you please get me a new pack of cigarettes from my drawer by the bedside? Thank you’ Alfie sarcastically stated. ‘You were right!’ Eugene spoke, still staring at something stuck on the carpet. Eva grumpily stomped across the room and handed Alfie his pack of cigarettes. ‘About what?’ Andy questioned, breaking out of his reverie as Alfie nudged him to help him unwrap the plastic cover on the cigarette pack and take the cigarette out of it. ‘Right about this case being orchestrated from the very beginning. Ian was the one who had impersonated the delivery guy and handed Manny the case file. And it was kept in such a manner that it was next to impossible to not pick it up and glance through it. Wasn’t it also the same day you met Ian at the pub?’ Eugene inquired as he looked curiously at the twins. The jigsaw puzzle he had so carefully pieced together in his mind had been blown up to smithereens by Neil’s story. ‘Yes it was. It is so ingenious that it is almost genius.’ Alfie commented. ‘But, we can’t really find any evidence against Ian to tie him to the case now can we? It is all circumstantial. And also, what about Oscar?’ Andy raised his own set of questions which he had been mulling over silently so far. ‘Let us go once again over about what we know. Annie died in an accident. Money was paid to her father to keep the story all hush-hush. Her brother is a genius. And he is friends with another smart lad. For them to have come up with a voice activated system and rig up the fire sprinklers. Real clever. I wouldn’t have thought of that, even if father would have allowed Andy and me to go to a regular school. And the target list is pretty much all the people Annie considered her to be friends. Oscar and Ian were not present at the party, which explains the target list. Ian was seen at the retirement home and at Ivan Kazinsky’s apartment. Not to mention dropping those files over at your office. No sign of Oscar. We don’t even know if he is involved in this, as a victim or as a perpetuator. Had it been Oscar instead of Ian, then we know of the motive. Revenge. But Ian… He sort of makes things difficult doesn’t he?’ ‘How in the world did we miss seeing through his charade?’ Eugene exclaimed throwing his hands in the air to show his frustration at having been taken for a ride. The twins understood his frustration, but they were both marveling at the prey’s ability to camouflage itself so well that the hunters didn’t know even of its presence. The prey which had just visited them in their own home just couple of hours back and now was sure to have disappeared into thin air. ‘Merde! I am going home. This is doing my head in. And I am guessing you guys will speak with Mr. Robbins. I will call you in the morning.’ Eugene said with a flourish as he stood up and grabbed his jacket. ‘Hold on! You can drop me home’ Eva exclaimed as he put the empty cups of tea and coffee back into the sink. The twins watched the two leave the flat. Andy dialed the number for Mr. Robbins as he glanced over at the bedside clock which blinked the digits five and ten. But before Andy finished dialing the last number of Mr. Robbin’s telephone number, they heard Eva scream from downstairs. Reflexively, Andy and Alfie opened the door and rushed downstairs. Eugene was comforting Eva who was not hysterically crying. ‘What happened?’ Andy inquired before Alfie pointed to the unconscious body slumped in the wheelchair. The man’s hair glistened in the dwindling twilight.
‘He is dead’ Eugene remarked. ‘He was Neil’s driver’ Alfie mumbled as he looked down at the road. But there was no sign of a car. Eugene let go of Eva, who was still crying, yelling ‘I am going to call this in’ as he hurriedly climbed up the stairs, however fast his limp leg would allow him to. ‘Do you think Ian has abducted Neil?’ Andy questioned as he shifted his gaze from Eva who seemed to have controlled her emotions to whimpering sobs to his brother who seemed to be looking at the dead driver’s body. Alfie nodded. Alfie face hardened with seriousness but his eyes lilted with excitement.

Manny had enjoyed the relatively relaxed day spent in office. After all the flurry of activity of the last couple of days, there was just paper work to be filed. Something which Manny enjoyed so much that he almost forgot about the task Eugene had assigned him. Manny looked at the table clock he had on his desk, the same one which Shanti had given him during the first year of their courtship. The dials on the clock suggested that it was ten past five. Manny mentally calculated the time to cycle up to the address he was supposed to check out and realized that by the time he finished checking the place out and then cycling back home it would be time for dinner. He called up Shanti, and found the answering machine. He duly left a message letting his wife know that he would be running late for dinner and that she should wait up. He hated having to eat his dinner alone. Just as he unlocked his cycle from the electric pole it was chained to, Manny heard the office phone ring. He wasn’t going to go back in, he was already late. He let the phone ring till it died down. Eugene realized that Manny must have gone out to check out the empty warehouse. He was beginning to suspect that the under construction building may not be so under constructed after all. Eugene next dialed the number for the crime unit tech and for emergency services. By the time the ambulance and the crime scene tech unit arrived at 201, Swann Street, the street lights were on and the sun had officially called it a day. Eugene sent Eva back home with one of the detectives who had reported. Manny had just reached the address he had noted down in his pocket notebook. He was in two minds about whether to get off his cycle and enter the building or if he should just cycle back. As he stood and stared at the grey building, he shuddered at the enormity of the monstrosity which man built. The building was one of the new high rise buildings. The government had made conscious efforts to revamp the old city which had been left to be a ruse for junkies, beggars, homeless people, stray dogs and everything which society considered to be blot on its pristine fabric of pretentiousness. The government had a done a decent job of sprucing up the real estate value of the area. There were no strays around, dog or man. But he knew that squatters are faster to respond than flies over a pile of feces. The curiosity got the better of him as he got off his cycle and walking along with it as he sought a place to chain his cycle to. He looked up towards the sky again and counted the number of floors, fifteen completed floors and plastic sheets danced around in the wind from the other seven. Manny didn’t know where to begin his search and the sun was fast drowning into a sea of grey. There was nobody around courtesy the worker’s union, who had called the strike about a month back. And judging by the newspaper reports, it didn’t seem like work would begin anytime soon either. As he stood there wondering by the wayside and anxiously looking at his wrist watch, trying to figure out a plan to go about and carry out his search, Manny cursed Eugene. He hated getting out of office. And this would be the last time he was going to do any favors for Eugene. It was time that they got somebody else on the team. Manny finally parked his cycled, finished chaining it up and double checking all the four locks he had run the chains through to make sure that his cycle remained where he intended it to stay. Just then he saw the brown colored Vauxhall parked conspicuously in the alley way behind the building’s entrance. As he went closer to take a look at it, he heard another vehicle taking the turn into the corner. It was a jet black limousine, even in the twilight it gleamed as the driver flashed his lights to indicate Manny to step back to the sides. Hesitantly Manny moved back and saw the driver’s door open. Out walked a man who Manny had seen in the two security tapes. Tall, blonde haired, chiseled face and the deep set shiny grey eyes. ‘Good Evening!’ The man smiled at Manny and nodded courteously. All Manny could do was nod nervously. He didn’t know what to do know or say. His body had wanted to break into a run but his mind wouldn’t allow him to move an inch. ‘You lost? Can I help you?’ The man inquired again as he stepped closer to where Manny stood rooted. ‘Don’t you recognize me? I delivered those case files to your office’ Ian grinned. ‘Stop right there! Hands up! I am Detective Manpreet Singh’ before Manny could finish his incoherently sentenced command, he felt the noise of a heavy object slamming against his head. Before darkness descended down in front of Manny’s eyes he turned around to see a man dressed in butcher’s apron, a welder’s shield resting on his head and crude hand crafted cudgel in his hand. The man’s brown eyes filled with fear and his body shaking with emotion as Manny fell to the ground expecting the concrete floor to greet his body. But he felt a strong pair of hands breaking his fall. Manny woke up with a start, but his hands and legs were tied to a chair. His mouth crudely gagged with a cloth tied across his face. He tried freeing himself but the man with the welder’s shield spoke, his face now covered by the welder’s shield. But for some odd reason, all Manny could hear was the blonde man’s voice coming from behind the welder’s shield. ‘Hello! Detective Manpreet Singh. It is unfortunate that you have to witness this. But I assure that I have nothing personal against you and nothing will happen to you. All I ask of you is to just sit back and enjoy the show. Not sure if you this is the sort entertainment you enjoy with your missus. Shanti? That’s her name right?’ The mention of his wife’s name made Manny break down into giant bag tears leaking from tiny tears on top as it rested tied against the chair. The voice continued, ‘Don’t worry Manny, that’s what your boss calls you doesn’t he? Nothing will happen to you or your missus. I was just showing off really. You are not our tonight’s entertainment nor is your missus, but just wanted to put it out there that you may as well have been. Anyway, let me introduce you to the other guests tonight. I hope that things don’t get awkward.’ ‘This…’ The man spoke with restrained glee in his voice, ‘This is Mr. Neil Forde.’ As he grabbed a clump of the man’s hair and pulled his face towards the arc lights, Manny usually saw in photo studios. Manny finally saw the naked body of the blonde haired man, his head matted with dried blood and his face and blue eyes simmering with tears. His mouth was kept wide apart with a string of razor blades strung together by twine and placed between his teeth. As the man with the welder’s shield shook his head by his hair the man tried closing his mouth in pain and the razors dug into his lips, threatening to slip between his teeth. Contrary to his reflexes Neil tried his best to keep his mouth wide open despite the pain surging through his scalp. ‘I had forgotten how exciting having an audience was… And over there, in the corner, lying glued to the floor is Mr. Richard Salvatore. Suppose the old man doesn’t have much life left in him to scream and acknowledge his presence. Not after eating gruel and his painkillers served in bowl whose bottom is coated with mercury for a week.’ the man with the welder’s shield pointed to a corner of the otherwise dark room. Manny saw the wet floor and the discolored figure of a bloated body of a frail old man. The windows were covered in black garbage bags, there wasn’t much light except from the arc lights. Manny wondered if he was hallucinating as he made out another figure standing behind the old man’s body lying on the floor. Manny tried moving his wrists in a vain attempt to loosen them from the chair. But the rope just dug in deep into his skin. He could feel the nakedness of his wrist. He had no idea how long he had been kept captive. He was afraid for Shanti. He knew she would have been worried for him. Richard looked on helplessly as the realization dawned upon him on their insistence for him to eat his meals. He heard the scrapping on the floor behind him and warm breathe against his ears as he heard his son hiss into his ears. ‘It is all going to end soon father. Very soon’ Oscar took out a syringe filled with mercury and plunged it straight into the old man’s neck. Oscar saw his foster father twitch and thrash before his heart finally stopped beating. Oscar waited before he checked the old man’s pulse. There was none. ‘But I suppose we will have to wait for the main course. I am expecting few more guests’ the man with the welder’s shield spoke again, addressing Manny. ‘No point fighting those knots Detective Manpreet Singh. Or should I call you Manny?’ The man with the welder’s shield questioned before he absentmindedly picked up, what Manny believed to be something resembling a pair of pliers and bent down in front of Neil. It was then that Manny realized that the seat was hollowed out. As he watched the man with the welder’s shield clamp the pliers on the poor blonde man’s testicles. The more Neil yelled and screamed, the harder the man with the welder’s shield pressed the jaws of the pliers. The pain made Neil jump in his chair. He tried his best to avoid biting on his teeth to deal with the pain, but failed. The razor blades tore through both his lips like paper. Few of the razor blades broke with the force with which Neil shut his jaws together. But few managed to lodge themselves between his teeth, cutting through his gums and the hard palate in his mouth. Manny winced as he saw Neil bleed and cry in pain.

Shanti looked at the wall clock anxiously, it showed quarter past nine. Seconds seemed to be ticking away like minutes. She had heard Manny’s message on the voicemail when she had hung up after having spoken to her mother. She had wanted to know how to break the news to Manny, news that he was soon going to become a father. Shanti had been excited ever since she returned back from the hospital in the evening. When Eva walked into the house, Shanti excitedly ran to the door expecting it to be Manny. But when Shanti saw Eva’s red blotchy eyes, dried mascara running down her cheeks, Eva had grown worried. When Shanti inquired about what had upset her, Eva wouldn’t answer her. Eva had quietly gone into her room and locked herself up. Shanti consoled herself and believed that Manny must have had some unexpected work and somebody would have made a rude remark to Eva. Police work was erratic and she had known this long before she and Manny had gotten married. But Manny had always called her every hour or so before to let her how long it would take for him to leave from work. But Shanti’s alarm bells rang as she worriedly dialed the number to Manny’s office. The phone kept ringing but no answer. She tried the number again. This time on the fourth ring she heard the phone being answered. ‘Hello?’ Shanti could make out Eugene’s voice. ‘Hello? Eugene? Hi. Shanti here’ ‘Oh! Hello Shanti! How is Eva doing? Anyway, could you put Manny on the phone please? there has been new developments in the case.’ ‘But… I thought he was in office. He had called me around quarter past five to tell me he was leaving office and running an errand for you. He said he would be late. It is ten now and I still haven’t heard from him. Can you please tell me where my husband is?’ Shanti broke down as she hysterically pleaded over the phone to Eugene. She could feel the turmoil in her stomach find an anchor and sink fast and deep in her gut. ‘Oh! Yes. I completely forgot, he must be waiting for me at HQ. I will tell him to immediately call. Please don’t cry. I am sorry for having kept Manny so long. So terribly sorry.’ Eugene quickly thought on his feet as he consoled the weeping lady over the phone.
‘Please tell him to call me as soon as possible’ Shanti wiped her tears and forced a smile play on her face as she saw Eva step out of her room to check on her aunt. ‘Oui! Oui! I will ask him to do so immediately. But I am afraid he may just get slightly more delayed. I apologize on his behalf.’ ‘Oh! That is alright. I was just worried that is all. I am sorry for crying. I didn’t mean to. It is just that I had a bad feeling. That’s all. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Bye’ and with that she kept the phone back and smiled at Eva. ‘Oh! Don’t worry. I was just worried that your uncle hasn’t come home yet. Turns out he is busy with work and will be coming home late. Looks like your uncle is finally doing real police work huh?’ Shanti smiled patronizingly at Eva before inviting her over to have dinner. ‘So, now are you going to tell me who said what mean things to you?’ Shanti inquired again as she served food for Eva and for herself. ‘Oh nothing really… It is just that time of the month you know. The pain was too much.’ Eva mumbled, she didn’t want to alarm Shanti by telling her what she had witnessed that day. ‘You are going to be become an aunt soon, then you will realize know how I feel right now’ Shanti bent down and kissed Eva’s forehead affectionately. Eva looked as confusion washed away and gave way to a joyous smile. As the two women hugged each other in joy, Eugene dialed the number for the city public library. He knew the twins had gone to visit Mr. Robbins to get to know more about Oscar and Ian. But Mr. Robbins hadn’t seen them in the last couple of days. Eugene tried their home phone number, but no response there either. He tried Dominic’s number. But Dominic informed him that the twins were yet to drop by. Eugene asked Dominic to get the twins to call him the moment they stepped into the pub. He then dialed the home phone number of Chief Egan, he knew Chief Egan wouldn’t be happy talking to him but at this stage, Eugene really didn’t care what the Chief thought. He needed the Chief’s authorization to marshal the cavalry. As he waited and heard the phone ring on the other end of the line, he suddenly realized that it could be just a false alarm and he was overreacting. Nobody answered Chief Egan’s phone, he had then remembered that the Chief and the Mayor were supposed to be attending a working party organized by few construction companies to deal with the worker unions threatening to go on more strike. Eugene cursed aloud. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew he had to do something, but the answer to what, was beyond his grasp. Manny was missing and so were the twins. It was very unlike Manny to not have reached home. Eugene wondered what favor he had asked of Manny and then remembered his instructions to Manny to go check out the construction site.
Eugene looked at his wrist watch, the dials showed the time to be half past ten and his limp leg was beginning to hurt. Anger borne out of frustration made him dial the numbers on the phone once again. ‘Hello?’ Eugene heard a woman’s voice pick up the phone and answer, ‘Mayor’s residence, how can I help you?’ ‘This is Superintendent Eugene Francois. I need to speak with Chief Jonathan Egan’ ‘I am sorry sir, but he is busy at the moment. And the Mayor has strictly instructed me to hold all calls and take messages.’ ‘Je t’emmerde!’ Eugene screamed into the phone before calming himself and continuing, ‘Listen, I am pretty sure you are just doing your job Miss. But there is an officer’s life in danger. And I swear on my mother and father that if anything happens that man, I will personally make sure to make your life a living hell.’ ‘I will see what I can do. Please hold on’. Eugene spent the next five minutes listening to the gloriously annoying music which played on the other end of the ‘This better be good Superintendent Francois!’ Eugene could picture Chief Egan going red in his face. After what seemed like hours, the minute hand ticking forward as both men of uniform argued back and forth. But the argument which finally swung the decision in Eugene’s favor was the mention of Neil Forde and Manny’s life being in danger. As Eugene hung up before calling HQ and issuing all available hands to report for duty in raid gear, he wondered if the life of a wealthy industrialist was in reality more important than a fellow police officer.

20 “These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder Which, as they kiss, consume” — William Shakespeare

‘Why are you in such a hurry?’ Andy inquired as the Alfie hurriedly put his hands through the jacket sleeve and insisted on his brother doing the same with his hand. The twins had remained silent with Alfie anxiously checking the time every 10 – 15 minutes. Eugene had sent Eva away with the clueless homicide detective and had left along with the ambulance carrying the dead body of Neil’s driver to the coroners. The body had still been warm and rigor mortis was ye to set in. ‘We don’t have much time Andy. It is already twenty past seven. We have to be there by eight.’ Alfie furiously waved at a passing by cab and waited for it impatiently for it stop. As the twins hurriedly got into back of the cab, Alfie barked the address to the driver and urged him to step on it. ‘Where do we have to be? Why the hurry? Why aren’t we going to the pub?’ Andy asked anxiously as he saw his brother nervously clomped his fingers down on his thighs. ‘I just told the driver the address. Do pay attention Andy!’ ‘But what is the hurry? Why do we have to there by eight?’ ‘Do you remember what the building supervisor said about how Ivan was wheeled away in a car?’ ‘Yes. A brown Vauxhall, but Eugene said that the car insurance said the registered to some address where construction was taking place.’ ‘Yes. There are seventeen places where construction is happening around the city, thirteen construction companies working on these seventeen different sites. All but one. There is only one out of those thirteen companies which is having worker union issues on a single site. No work has taken place or man power is present on that site. Not even basic security. Perfect place if you ask me.’ ‘How is that perfect?’ ‘When work does resume, and they find blood or any other evidence, they are most likely to ignore and bury it. Especially not with the management wouldn’t wanting any further delays in completing the already delayed work.’ ‘But the worker union is responsible for work in more than one site, and there are four more places where work has been stalled. So why decide on just this place?’ ‘Really?’ Alfie inquired with surprised scowl on his face. ‘Yes! I read the papers properly you know. Unlike you who seems to be content from just skimming the headlines on things you are not interested in knowing.’ ‘Fine then! Since you put it that way, I may as well you tell you that I found another note lodged in the driver’s coat lapel.’ ‘What did the note say?’ ‘It said to reach this place by eight.’ ‘And you didn’t think it was important for me know about this?’ ‘Because you probably would have said to call Eugene and the rest of the chasseurs’ ‘Yes I would have. What is wrong with that?’ ‘Andy?’ Alfie looked at his brother with patronizing contempt. ‘Yeah?’ ‘You know how we always wanted to play with other kids when we were kids?’ ‘What does that have anything to go to do with you not telling me about the note?’ ‘Well, this is the closest we have had to a playmate. Don’t you see Andy? He is calling out to play with him. This is just a very crude version of cops and robbers.’ ‘This is a stupid and a dangerous version of cops and robbers.’ ‘I know! And that is exactly why I didn’t tell Eugene about the note. But isn’t it exciting?’ ‘No Alfie! It is not. He is a murderer Alfie! Murderer! He is deranged. He gets off on killing people. And a man’s life is in danger.’ ‘You say tomato and I say toe-mah-to. People live. People die.’ ‘You are absolutely and certifiably mental Alfie! And you scare me when get all excited with your ghastly obsession with murders and murderers.’ ‘Because you my dear brother, you won’t allow me to walk on the other side of the law.’ Alfie smugly grinned at his brother. ‘But a man’s life is in question Alfie! He will kill him.’ ‘He?’ ‘Yeah! He! Ian. Ian Saxenholdt’ ‘But I thought you fancied him’ Alfie continued grinning as he watched his brother’s face cloud with embarrassment and guilt. ‘I did. Before I realized that he was a cold blooded killer’ ‘Are you certain he is Ian?’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I mean it could be Ian? It could Oscar? They could be playing together.’ ‘You really think that those two are in cohorts?’ ‘Cohorts? Ooo… Look at my brother using big fancy words’ Alfie smirked as the cab took another turn. ‘Oh shut it! Do you really think the two of them have planned this thing together?’ ‘No. I don’t. Sure it is Oscar’s vengeance. And they have been known to have planned pranks in the past. But you remember the way Oscar looked in the picture?’ ‘Yeah! What about it?’ ‘Did you notice his nose?’ ‘Yeah! It was snub shaped.’ ‘And what does that tell us?’ ‘That the person lacks spiritual and physical maturity.’ ‘Exactly! Not only does Oscar not have the physical maturity but he also doesn’t have a father figure. And psychologically speaking, it makes perfect sense doesn’t it?’ ‘What does?’ ‘The fact that Ian was couple of years older to Oscar and was probably the only person who understood Oscar’ ‘Okay. Agreed that Oscar is a genius, and like all geniuses he gets obsessed with an idea. But this time the idea is to avenge his foster sister’s death. But why would Ian want to help Oscar in his vendetta?’ ‘It was and is still Oscar’s vendetta. But it is Ian who is having fun planning and executing it. He is both the planner and the executioner while Oscar mutely watches the proceedings and believing that his vengeance is being carried out. And I can now see why you were attracted to Ian in the first place’ ‘And why is that?’ ‘Well the man has got some real class and style to start with. Not to mention that he is also pleasing to look at. The same reason why you love me’ ‘I don’t love you!’ Andy looked away from his brother. Wondering and fearing if his brother had somehow gotten to know the dreams Andy occasionally had about his brother. Andy looked worriedly at his brother who seemed to be sporting the same gleeful smile he had when he talked Andy into dissecting a frog and a cockroach, before placing the cockroach in the frog’s intestines. Andy was beginning to feel uneasy. He could sense the imminent claustrophobic panic attack setting in as he furiously rolled down the window to get some fresh air. Being stuck to a man you are in love with, who also happens to be your brother raises some difficult questions. And the stuffy cab ride had triggered Andy’s claustrophobia. Alfie looked at his brother down the window on his side and involuntarily leaned as his brother stuck his head out the window. ‘Oi! Get your head back in. It is difficult to talk when you are sticking your head out the window. You giving me a cramp in my neck’ Alfie mumbled as he tried pulling his brother back into the car using his side of the body. ‘This is the place. And that will be twelve fifty’ the cab driver craned his neck back and waited for the twins to pay the cash. Andy paid the driver with a twenty pound note and Alfie told the man to keep the change, much to Andy’s chagrin. ‘Now what? And why did you have to tip the man that much?’ Andy pointed at the padlocked front door of the building. The lock didn’t show any signs of being tampered with. ‘So, that if, we don’t make out of this place alive, and hopefully an investigation ensues to find out what happened to us, we can be sure that, that man will come forward and give information about where he dropped us off last.’ Alfie excitedly exclaimed as he pointed towards the alley. ‘Are you serious?’ Andy looked at his brother incredulously. ‘Believe me when I say, this could be one of the most exciting nights of our lives’

‘Date 4th June 1968. Dear Diary, Neil asked me out! YES! YES! YES! Neil Forde. The most gorgeous boy in the whole wide world asked me if I wanted to go to his party. Oh! He looked so good his jeans and white shirt. I wonder what I should wear tomorrow. I wonder how it would feel to kiss his lips. I don’t believe Susan. How can Neil like boys? He is a boy. I think she was just winding me up. I didn’t like the way Mr. Kapoor was feeling up Naoko. He is supposed to our teacher. But I don’t care about anything. Neil asked me out. I am so excited. Tomorrow is going to be SOOOOO EXCITING! I am going to tell him how much I love him. I will be Mrs. Annie Forde. How cool is that? I hope Oscar comes with me tomorrow. Anyway, I will tell you all about what happens tomorrow. Much love, Annie’ the man with the welder’s shield closed the old, tattered pink diary. ‘Do you remember Annie Salvatore Mr. Neil? She loved you. But what did she get in return? Huh?’ the man with the welder’s shield overcome with blind fury pushed Neil’s jaw close tightly and tilted Neil’s head back. Neil tried shaking his head, coughing and spluttering all the blood he was being forced to swallow. ‘There are here!’ The child like voice echoed from beyond the arc lights, distracting Manny as he tried blinking his eyes to see past the harsh streaming lights and into the darkness. But he couldn’t see anything. Manny turned his attention back to Neil, who seemed to be choking on his own blood. The man with the welder’s shield laughed and took off the welder’s shield from his face and another man walked into the lights. Manny looked at both the men. Both dressed in identical grey butcher’s aprons, black rubber gloves and heavy leather boots. One was dark haired and slightly shorter than the blonde haired man. One had a snub shaped nose and the other had a straight edged nose. The two men were as different as the expressions they sported on their faces. Manny could feel the intensity and the cold fury in the dark haired man’s eyes, while the blonde haired man, who Manny recognized as being the one he had seen in the security cameras, gleefully smiled as he watched Neil cough and splutter blood from his mouth. The razor blades were well wedged between Neil’s teeth. As Neil gritted his teeth in pain, the blades dug in deeper into his gums. Manny couldn’t see Neil’s teeth of anything bottom of his nose. Everything had been dyed a dark shade of red. The blood kept seeping like a perforated water pipe. ‘Good. About time too’ Manny heard the blonde haired man remarked loudly as his steely grey eyes looked directly into Manny’s teary black eyes. The blonde haired man checked the watch which Manny recognized as his own and nodded towards the dark haired man. The light reflected off Manny’s watch, the very same watch which Manny’s father in law had gifted Manny on his wedding day. The dials showed ten past eight. Manny hoped that it was Eugene and the rest of the police force who have come to rescue him. As Neil continued to spit, cough, splutter and swallow his own blood.

Alfie pointed at the black limousine and the brown Vauxhall. He motioned his brother to keep quiet as he brought his index finger to his lips as the twins slowly and steadily made their way up the alley. Andy pointed to the open back door as he fished out a flashlight from his pocket. The beam of light slashed and killed the darkness in straight lines. As Alfie looked around, cautious and alert to not be ambushed in the darkness, Andy pointed to the service elevator which seemed to be resting on the fifteenth floor. After much thought, Alfie nodded in agreement and Andy pressed the black button to usher to service elevator back to ground floor. They anxiously awaited the service elevator to noisily countdown the floors before the red LED lights read ‘G’. ‘You ready?’ Alfie inquired as he smiled at his brother, barely managing to contain his excitement. ‘Does it really matter?’ Andy replied. His voice and face split in equal measures of annoyance and nervousness. ‘No! Not really’ Alfie chuckled as they watched elevator door open its mouth, ready to devour them. ‘Look! Funny innit?’ Alfie pointed to the small sticker which read, ‘Press this one ’ stuck alongside the black button which indicated the fifteenth floor. Andy tried smiling but as he watched the elevator doors close, he could feel the bile trying to push its way up his gut. As the elevator climbed up the floors, they heard Ian’s voice bellow from the emergency public address system in the elevator. Andy and Alfie both craned their necks and looked around to see where the speaker was located in the elevator. They finally saw the black perforated plastic casing placed alongside the elevator lifts. ‘Good evening! So glad you could join us in our little get together. And as a gesture of goodwill to show that I mean to no harm to you. Look behind the control panels’ Andy immediately tried prying open the control panel which gave way without much resistance. Behind the elevator control panel stood a two shot glasses, one filled with whisky and the other filled with chocolate milk. And along with it resting horizontally was a handgun. ‘Thought you guys might like a shot of your favorite poison. Oh! And the gun is a Beretta 92FS. The safety is on. Just so you know. I suggest that you drink up now. The Beretta… Well, you will know when to use it.’ The radio cackle died down. The twins looked at each other. ‘You were right!’ Andy commented as he held the handgun in his hands and motioned Alfie to stick his hand out. Andy quickly unloaded the magazine, checked its contents. The Beretta held a single bullet in its chambers. Andy clasped the magazine back in its place. Alfie helped Andy load the gun and lock the bullet in its chamber. ‘About what?’ Alfie commented as he keenly eyed the shot glass filled with whisky. ‘I did like him. He is a classy son of a bitch’ Andy smiled for the first time as he tucked the gun in their waistband and picked up the shot glass filled with chocolate milk. Alfie gleefully smiled as he picked up the shot glass meant for him and clinked it before hungrily swallowing its contents down. As they kept the shot glasses back into the elevator control panel, they heard the elevator ping their arrival on the fifteenth floor.

Manny watched the blonde haired man speak into a wireless speaker. The hope that Eugene had finally come to his rescue soon extinguished itself and Manny looked on worriedly at Neil who seemed to be wheezing laboriously. His face was enroute to turning itself into a dark shade of bluish purple.
Manny heard the electronic ping and the sound of elevator doors opening. Both the men in butcher’s aprons took out handguns and held it threateningly at the doorway. Something didn’t look right as Manny stared at the guns which the men held in their hands, he tried recollecting what the quartermaster had said from his days in the police academy. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the twins walking towards the lights. 

He never had liked the twins, they always reminded him of the demon king, Raavan, his grandparents used to tell him about when he was young. But today had already proven itself to be an exception. He saw Andy holding a handgun and held it the same way the two men were pointing their guns at each other. ‘Hello! I don’t suppose you have met Oscar here’ Ian smiled gleefully as he nodded his head towards Oscar. ‘Hello!’ Oscar replied. ‘Hello! Nice to meet you finally’ Alfie smiled at both the men. Andy still held the gun and positioned it at whoever spoke. ‘I suppose you have pieced the story together by now.’ Ian inquired, his gun still trained at the twins. ‘Yes. But we still had a few questions of our own’ Alfie remarked. ‘Is it about the old woman?’ Ian inquired. ‘What old woman?’ It was Andy who reflexively questioned while Alfie looked on puzzled. ‘You guys didn’t know did you?’ Ian managed to speak as he laughed, ‘POSTMAN!’ Ian yelled as he continued laughing. Alfie raised his eyebrows in surprise as Andy threateningly pointed the gun at Ian. ‘Is he always so slow on the uptake?’ Ian questioned Alfie as he still continued laughing. ‘What is he talking about?’ Andy whispered his question to Alfie. ‘Do you remember the day we met?’ Ian questioned Andy as he relaxed the hand in which he held the handgun. ‘Yeah! We met at the pub’ Andy replied as he mirrored Ian and relaxed. Oscar continued to hold the gun trained at the twin’s chest. ‘He is talking about the old woman in the morning’ Alfie whispered the answer which Andy was searching for. ‘But…’ Andy mumbled as the answer brought along with it a new set of questions. ‘Yes. We have been playing you from the very beginning. Oscar was the one who had seen the newspaper advertisement. But I wasn’t interested, not until I found out and read about the Costello case.’ ‘And then we helped you fill up the gaps in that story when we met at the pub.’ ‘Yes. But of course, I needed to find out if you guys were as smart as the story about the Costello kid alluded you guys to be.’ ‘And so you staged the whole scene with the old woman’ ‘And I must say that we both were equally impressed.’ ‘Thank you!’ Alfie mockingly waved his hands in the air pretending to take a bow. ‘Surely you didn’t invite us here to tell us about the old woman, even though it is a nice surprise.’ Alfie spoke trying to buy more time. The twins had not expected Manny to be present. The quick scan around the vast albeit empty space was enough to let the twins know that old man was Richard Salvatore, the retired physics teacher. The twins didn’t light on the body to let realize that the old man was dead. Neil’s face had turned a dark shade of purple, his bloodied mouth with the razor blades sticking out like a post modernist art piece left no doubt that Neil had choked on his own blood. ‘So when I called you and left a message on your phone, you were at Ivan Kazinsky’s apartment? Where were you?’ Alfie quizzed the men who had trained their gun at the twins. ‘Yes! Ian had to do the grunt work, while I made sure that my foster father stayed alive long enough.’ Oscar replied. ‘It didn’t take long for the two of us to realize that I had a predilection towards crime. Ever since our school days, I always did enjoy exacting maximum fun from least effort. Oscar was always content in playing second fiddle’ ‘So… Now what?’ Andy ignored the dance invitation Oscar and Ian had extended to the twins. Alfie muttered curses under his breath as saw his brother take no notice of his attempts to buy more time while he figured out a way to end this Mexican standoff. ‘Now there is only one thing left to do’ Oscar spoke in his child like nasal voice and moved his hand which held the gun and trained it towards Ian, who for the first time looked confused about what was going on. ‘What? What are you doing?’ Ian questioned as he looked surprised at Oscar, his hand relaxing more and more with every single syllable uttered. ‘You are a cruel man. You always were. And you don’t deserve to live.’ Manny was trying his best to say something but all he could manage was to wobble his chair before his weight gave way and he toppled back. Manny hit his head hard against the floor and lost consciousness. Still tied and gagged to the chair. Andy kept moving his hands from Ian to Oscar, not sure what to do. The sound of Manny falling behind on his captive chair was loud and provided the cue for the room to be filled with loud bursts of noise from two smoking guns. Ian and Oscar slumped to the floor. The twins rushed to the two slain bodies lying on the floor. Andy’s shot had missed Oscar’s heart, but had punctured and exited through Oscar’s lung. Oscar on the other hand hadn’t missed his shot. The bullet had made a clean exit through Ian’s heart. Andy dropped the gun, and the twins cradled Oscar’s head in their lap as they kneeled down to the floor. Blood spurted through Oscar’s mouth as he clumsily handed a bloodied note to the twins and then slumped and slid across their lap and onto the cold bloodied floor. As the twins read the note, they could hear the shrill sirens of police cars and vans braking with urgency outside the building. ‘I take full and complete responsibility for the deaths of Peter Hailey, Susan Olsen, Naoko Higashino, Ivan Kazinsky, Neil Forde, Richard Salvatore and Ian Saxenholdt . All I wanted to do was to avenge the murder of my sister. She deserved better. It was not right for my father to have accepted money from those rich bastards and bury my sister so unceremoniously. She was a lovely girl and she deserved so much better. Ian was my only friend and he always did like my sister. So it wasn’t difficult for me to engage him to do my bidding. I injected alcohol into Peter’s veins before crashing his car. I also drowned Naoko and pushed Susan off the cliff. You know what happened with Ivan. And I am sure that when you perform autopsy on my father’s dead body, you will find that he was steadily fed a diet of mercury. Neil is lying in front of you and I don’t have to tell you that he choked on his own blood. I did plan on exacting my revenge on Karan Kapoor. But that coward chose to take his own life. Guess he knew what was coming for him. But just killing them had not satisfied me. I wanted to defile their very memory. Which is why I vandalized their graves. I didn’t know what to do after I had exacted my revenge, There was nothing else left for me to do. There is nothing else I wish to do. All through my life, people had always told me that I was meant for great things. And all I wanted to do was to make sure that my sister got the justice she deserved. And I think this is my greatest achievement. Ian did all the grunt work as I wanted him to. He had no idea that I was just using him. But what use is a tool after you are done using it. Ian didn’t know that his gun was loaded with blanks. He always prided himself to be smart. Smarter than him. It was always fun and games for him.
Consider this as my confession. I have only one request, and I urge you to make sure that it is fulfilled. I wish to be buried next to my sister. I have purchased the grave next to her. • Oscar Salvatore’ Just as the twins folded the bloodied note back, they heard Eugene limp hurriedly through the elevator door. The rest of the quick response team quickly scanned and took positions around the room. Eugene raised his hand to let them calm down. Andy pointed towards Manny who still remained unconscious body of Manny. ‘He is alright. He is not dead. Guess he hit his head hard’ Alfie sadly commented as he looked at Eugene trying hard to revive Manny. ‘Send the paramedics in’ Eugene spoke into this radio.

The paramedics rushed in and deftly cut across the ropes which tied Manny to his chair. As the rest of the quick response team scanned and cleared the floor, the crime scene tech unit unglued the body of Richard Salvatore and untied the bruised wrists of Neil Forde free.
‘What are you moping about?’ Andy inquired as he looked at his brother who looked on glumly as the medics took away the body of Ian Saxenholdt. ‘I really thought that we had finally found a playmate. You know, somebody smart, witty, clever.’ Alfie sullenly replied. ‘Well, he was an evil man, and not really that clever. Didn’t you read that note? He was just doing Oscar’s bidding’ ‘Yeah… I know! But still. Can’t help but feeling sad you know. And all this happened so suddenly’ ‘Well, I suppose the night does deserve a visit to the pub’ Andy replied as he looked at his wrist watch.
‘Before you guys go anywhere, I would like you guys to give your statements.’ Eugene limped over to the corner where the twins were standing and observing the crime scene tech do their work.

Eva and Shanti had spent the previous night at the hospital where Manny was admitted. The doctor’s had said that there was nothing to worry about and the injury to the head was not severe. The twins had woken up later than the usually did and paid a visit to Manny at the hospital. They met Eva and Shanti at the hospital corridor. ‘Thank you! Thank you so much! Eugene told me what happened last night’ Shanti folded her hands and fell down to their feet, sobbing hysterically.
‘What the!’ the twins exclaimed as Eva and the twins lifted a whimpering Shanti back to her feet. ‘We didn’t do anything really. We didn’t’ Andy and Alfie took turns to assure the sobbing woman. ‘He is sleeping’ Eva mumbled as she pacified her aunt. Eugene limped in from behind her and sheepishly grinned at the twins while cradling two cups of coffee in one hand while the other hand held on tightly to his walking stick. ‘Even you spent the night at the hospital?’ Alfie inquired, surprised to find the blood shot eyes of the Frenchman smiling at him. ‘Oui!’ Eugene nodded as he handed the two cups of coffee to Shanti and Eva. ‘Sorry, I can’t drink coffee. It is not good for the baby.’ Shanti absentmindedly ran her hands over her tummy. ‘I will take that cup of coffee. Thank you very much!’ Alfie shot his hand out and grasped the cup of coffee which Eva held in her hands. Eva glared at him with menace. ‘Oh!’ Andy and Eugene exclaimed. ‘Does he know?’ Eugene probed. ‘No’ Shanti coyly smiled as she continued rubbing her belly. ‘Can we take a look at him?’ Alfie inquired as he sipped the tepid warm water. Before anybody could respond, he continued, ‘I think we will go check on him. Maybe he is awake. Also, this coffee is horrible.’ Alfie motioned his brother and Eugene to accompany him. They knocked on the door but found no response. Alfie opened the door, and the three of them walked into the room. ‘Hello?’ Alfie whispered while looking at Manny’s hairy face lying tucked between the white hospital bed sheets. ‘He is sleeping’ Andy whispered to his brother. ‘WAKE UP! WAKE UP MANNY! WAKE UP!’ Alfie furiously shook the bed before Eugene pulled at Andy and Alfie away from the bed while cursing loudly in French. ‘Huh? What?’ Manny opened his eyes. ‘See! He is not asleep’ Alfie grinned impishly at his brother and Eugene. ‘What happened? Where am I?’ Manny spoke the clichéd dialogue after he woke up from his sleep. His eyes looked tired and confused. ‘You are in the hospital Manny. You are alive and well. Let me call Shanti’ Eugene offered. ‘No! No! No! What happened last night?’ Manny inquired. The twins finished recalling and recounting the tale from the previous night. But Manny still remained confused. ‘But…’ Manny mumbled. ‘But what? That is the whole story. There are no buts’ Alfie sarcastically spoke. ‘But both the guns were loaded with blanks’ ‘What do you mean both the guns were loaded with blanks?’ ‘Yeah! When they were talking to you guys in the elevator, they loaded their guns with blanks. That is what I was trying to tell you guys.’ Manny mumbled. ‘WHAT?’ The twins and Eugene exclaimed in unison before alternating their gaze from Manny and each other. ‘Yeah! That is what I wanted to tell you guys while you were talking. But I guess I sort of slipped and fell’ Manny replied childishly. ‘Oh! You are awake!’ Shanti exclaimed as she walked into the room. Manny smiled sheepishly at his wife. ‘I am sorry’ He mumbled. Shanti rushed and clung on to her husband, sobbing and whimpering as Eva looked on admiringly at the couple. The twins and Eugene were pushed back by Shanti. ‘Eugene!’ Alfie exclaimed under his breath as the three pushed their way past Eva and out the room. ‘Yeah! I am on it’ Eugene left to find a phone he could use to call the coroner’s office. The twins followed him. ‘Hi! I am Superintendent Eugene Francois’ Eugene flashed his badge at the nervous looking nurse stationed behind the desk, ‘I need to use your phone. Merci!’ The nurse nervously pushed the phone towards Eugene. ‘Hello? Fincham? Yes. Eugene here. Could you do me a quick favor and check up on the four dead bodies which were sent to you late last night? Yes. Late last night. Sometime around midnight. Yes. Thank you. I am holding. Yes! I want to you check on them now. Right now!’ Eugene clutched the phone receiver tightly as he waited, he turned to look at the twins, ‘He has gone to check on the bodies’ The twins nodded. Eugene turned to look at the nurse who seemed to be staring at the ‘WHAT? Could you say that again please? What do you mean there are only three bodies? There is a WHAT instead of the body? Hold on right there. I am coming over’ Eugene hung up. The twins already knew the answer. ‘HEY! I AM GOING TO BE A FATHER!’ Manny yelled out to the three of them. ‘Hey, listen, I am just stepping out for a bit. I will be back though. Take care alright?’ Eugene smiled as he spoke holding Eva’s hands in his. Eva nodded and turned her head back to watch her uncle and aunt embrace each other tightly. ‘So… You and Eva are…’ Alfie inquired as he tapped Eugene on the shoulder as they made their way to the parking lot. The twins were chuckling with mirth. ‘Is that what you guys are thinking about? Seriously? We have a missing dead body!’ Eugene replied bristling with annoyance. ‘Yes Eugene! We want to know’ Andy chuckled as the twins got in Eugene’s car. ‘Yes! I like the girl. She is smart and funny and beautiful!’ ‘Funny? Really?’ Alfie mumbled. ‘Yes! Now shut up!’ Eugene barked as he shifted the automatic gear into place and drove his foot on the accelerator.

When they arrived at the coroner’s office, they found the man who Eugene had called over the phone standing in the doorway. ‘I wasn’t in last night. My assistant was. I swear I had nothing to do with this’ the man pleaded as Eugene and the twins walked into his office. ‘This is Andrew and that is Alfred. This is Fincham.’ Eugene absentmindedly made the introductions before inquiring, ‘Where are the bodies kept?’ ‘In the morgue’ Fincham pointed in the general direction and led them. As the four of them opened the door with the words ‘Morgue’ painted on it in white, they saw the four tables with the three naked dead bodies. Their names put on paper tags around their big toes. The fourth table was empty except for some bloodied clothes, plastic sachets filled with blood and a voice recorder, the name tag torn into little bits and placed high at the top of the table. ‘Chicken blood’ Alfie commented as he picked up one of the plastic sachets and smelled it, Andy nodded in agreement as he took his turn to smell the plastic sachet. Eugene looked on perplexed. ‘Do you have two notes?’ Alfie suddenly burst out as he looked on inquiringly at Eugene. ‘What notes?’ Eugene inquired, his brows buried deep into his face. ‘The note we found at Ivan Kazinsky’s apartment and the one which Oscar handed us last night’ Alfie explained impatiently ‘They are in the evidence room’ Eugene replied, still confused after being informed the missing third body. ‘Well… What are we waiting for? Let us go to the evidence room’ Alfie motioned to the door. As the three of them drove to the HQ where the evidence room was housed in silence, Andy raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked at his brother as he finally understood the reason why his brother had insisted in wanting to read the two notes. Eugene nodded at the duty officer and signed the three of them. The duty officer returned with a carton box filled with all the evidence they had collected and collated in the case. Alfie immediately grabbed the plastic pouches in which the two notes were kept in. It was only then that it dawned on Eugene. And it didn’t take an expert to confirm that the handwritings on both the notes were the same. ‘Now! This is interesting. Very interesting!’ Alfie grinned as he handed the two notes to Eugene to stare at ease. ‘What are we supposed to do?’ Eugene inquired leaning hard against his walking stick as he felt the earth wobble underneath his feet. ‘I suggest you write up the case as Oscar had intended it to.’ Alfie suggested with a smirk. Andy looked at his brother worriedly, it wasn’t like his brother to suggest the wrong thing to do. ‘What? Don’t look at me like that. There is no point going after Ian. We don’t know where he might have disappeared to.’ Alfie shrugged as he explained. ‘He is right! There is nothing else we can do. Unless and until Ian surrenders’ Eugene added as he nodded in agreement.
‘He was one smart man!’ Alfie commented, his voice clearly showing his admiration for the man, as Andy smiled at Eugene’s puzzled expression. ‘But… How?’ ‘Do you want to explain it to him or should I?’ Alfie looked at his brother who just shrugged and took the two notes from Eugene and admired the penmanship of the man who wrote it. ‘Well, we told you what the scene was like. Ian and Oscar had trained their guns at us. The photo studio arc lights were focused on them, making it difficult for us to make out the minute details as the light washed over them. There was enough shadow cast from Manny sitting on the chair for us to realize…’ ‘There was a newspaper folded and kept under his chair, which meant that when Manny struggled while being tied to the chair. And that was their cue’ Andy added as he kept the notes covered in plastic back into the carton. ‘That was the cue for both of them, for Oscar. They had planned it all from the very beginning. When Oscar fired the blank’ Alfie picked up the gun and Andy helped him unload the magazine, Eugene looked at its content. The magazine had three more blank bullets. Eugene ran his hands over the flat edged bullet which was packed with gunpowder but no shot or bullet head. ‘And that’s when I fired my shot. Which gave Ian enough time to trigger those chicken blood filled sachets to explode.’ ‘But he wasn’t breathing when we wheeled him out’ Eugene countered. ‘It is not hard to inject yourself with a diluted solution of a drug which slows down your pulse and makes it almost unreadable for somebody who believes that the body is already dead.’ Alfie smiled as he pictured Ian dramatically falling down and biting into a capsule. ‘Metoprolol! That is the name of the drug. I am guessing he used enough dosage to let him get shipped into the coroner’s office before making his great escape.’ Andy added smiling. ‘What are you two smiling about? We have a seriously deranged killer on the loose?’ Eugene exclaimed as he threw the bullets back into the carton box in frustration. ‘Oh! He is not deranged. Killer yes. Deranged no.’ Alfie remarked. ‘Yeah! And all this is just hypothetical anyway.’ ‘He is the one who got away. At least for Andy’ Alfie chuckled. ‘I still don’t’ understand why you guys have to all smiley about’ Eugene demanded. ‘We are just accepting the fact that we got played. But a day will come when we get to have the upper hand.’ Alfie commented. ‘You mean he is going to kill some more people?’ Eugene inquired worriedly so. ‘Murder? No. I don’t think so. But it wouldn’t be surprising for people from the other side of the law to pay top money for his services.’ ‘What should I do?’ Eugene asked as he furiously rubbed his temples. ‘Well, you can either go with the story which Oscar suggested.’ Alfie offered. ‘Or…’ Andy pensively commented. ‘Or?’ Eugene and Alfie looked at Andy who seemed to pulling at his lower lip. ‘Or, you can write it up the way it is. Sure, it doesn’t look good on you, especially, after Egan being all mental about things. But, it will force him to stay underground more than he had actually planned.’ ‘I don’t know… I need a smoke’ Eugene exclaimed as he put the carton back to its place. Oscar was buried the way he had wished for. But Eugene didn’t write the report as Oscar would have wanted. Very smooth. This is proper pulp twist on twist on twist material. Good stuff.

Epilogue “Stories never really end…even if the books like to pretend they do. Stories always go on. They don’t end on the last page, any more than they begin on the first page.” — Cornelia Funke

Eugene dropped Eva at 201, Swann Street, before driving off to his office. He had another press conference where he was expected to give out interviews to the newspaper reporters. Chief Jonathan Egan had been quick to leak the story to the press. This was the ideal sort of publicity Chief Egan had in mind as he extolled imagined role in the case. But the newspaper reporters were keen to get a sound bite from the two investigating officers. One of whom was apparently captured before the timely action of the other saved the first one’s life. The case was being labeled as the ‘High school murders’ and reams and reams were being written about the ghastly nature of the case. Six months since Ian went missing from the morgue, and the newspapers still continued to run the story. Though it was no longer front page news, it still managed to find enough space to warrant a single column on page nine. Eva had moved into Eugene’s apartment. Much to Shanti’s annoyance, the newspapers reporters had been hounding her husband. Manny however, was beginning to enjoy the fame, adulation and respect he seemed to get from his colleagues in the HQ and Eugene’s more patient approach to him. It seemed like a welcome break from all of his wife’s weird pregnant cravings of mango pickle and dark chocolate ice cream with nuts. It was Manny’s turn to curse under his breath and roll his eyes as he heard Eugene tell all the things He and Eva got around to doing the previous day. Eva opened the door and not surprisingly found the twins still sleeping in. She called them out and placed their mail on the coffee table. Andy smiled at Eva as he dragged his brother to the bathroom. Eva had placed their morning cups of tea and coffee in front of them. She perched herself on the spare chair around the dining table and sipped her cup of tea and passed the newspaper and their mail towards the twins. Alfie lit his first cigarette and inhaled deeply, letting the nicotine be absorbed in his lung. Andy started to go through the mail, till he spotted one with familiar handwriting. Andy nudged at his brother, who looked annoyed at his brother and blew cigarette smoke in his brother’s face. But when Alfie saw the familiar cursive handwriting on the envelope he crumpled the newspaper and set it aside. Andy held the letter as Alfie tore it open. The letter read as, 5 January 1994, Dear Andrew and Alfred, I hope this letter finds you in the pink of your health. I am pretty sure you must have deducted how I made my escape. I don’t mean to brag, but you guys were made from the start. It was fun while it lasted. Though as you may as guessed, it won’t be the last time you and me would be crossing paths. You guys are just too much of good fun to let you play on your own. All Oscar had ever wanted was revenge. He didn’t want to have fun while he was at it. And there was nothing in it for me. Sure, plotting and planning to kill them and then actually executing the plan was fun. But I needed a challenge. It got boring after sometime. And then… And then I came across you two. And Boy! I must say that I enjoyed every single moment of our little game. Pity that it had to be cut short so. And like they say in the movies, we will always have this one time. Here’s to hoping for more fun times. Oh! I almost forgot to mention, I met these lovely chaps who smuggle rum and drugs into the coast, cocaine, ecstasy and that sort of thing. Their so called mastermind goes by the street name of Alfa Romeo. His actual name is actually quite boring, Nigel Brown. Stays at Flat 55B, Udall Gardens. Let the Frenchman know about this. And tell him I am sorry that he came out of this looking more of a fool than a hero. And tell him this is a thank you for letting Oscar have his last wish. Oh! And tell lovely Manpreet that I am sorry about the little bump he must have got that night. We didn’t expect him, the plan was perfect, but you know like they always say, always roll with the punches and always expect the unexpected. Tell Eva to finish her coffee soon, because there is going to a knock on your door… Now’ The twins looked anxiously at Eva who was slowly sipping on her coffee like she was holding a goblet containing the fountain of youth. And as if on cue, they heard the knock on the door. Eva looked stared curiously at the twins before getting up to answer the door. ‘Oh! Hello?’ Eva cheerfully greeted at the small boy who stood in front of door with a big gift wrapped box. ‘I have a delivery to make’ the boy nervously spoke, his nose running which he conveniently wipes on his shoulder. Eva took the package and ushered the boy inside. ‘Here! It is address to you’ Eva spoke as the twins looked disapprovingly at the boy. Alfie quickly stubbed his cigarette and helped Andy hurriedly unwrap the gift. It was a wooden box, the words, ‘Don’t be surprised!’, inscribed on top of the box. Alfie opened the box and the twins jumped back in surprise. There was a grinning picture of a clown bobbing up and down. They could hear Eva and the small boy smile uncontrollably as they saw the twins clutch their hearts in freight. Eva handed a cup of tea to the small boy and gave him a slice of bread to eat along with it. The twins set aside the box and returned back to the letter. ‘Hope you enjoyed that surprise. See you guys soon. Much Love, Ian Saxenholdt’ Alfie smiled as the twins folded the letter and pushed it back into its envelope. ‘Who gave you this gift?’ Andy questioned the small boy who was hungrily devouring the slice of bread after dunking it in his cup of tea. ‘A man gave me ten pounds to come and give this to you. I didn’t know it was a jack in the box. I swear.’ the boy nervously replied. ‘What did he look like?’ Andy probed. ‘He was tall, and he had like long shiny golden hair. And a beard’ ‘Grey eyes?’ Andy interrupted the small boy. ‘I don’t know. I didn’t pay much attention sir’ ‘When did he give it you?’ ‘I don’t know sir… I don’t have a watch on me’ the boy looked on nervously, not sure if he should leave or finish his tea and slice of bread. ‘Oh! Stop questioning the poor thing. Let him eat’ Eva chided Andy before smiling at the boy and motioned him to continue eating. The twins stood up and looked outside their window. A tall blonde man turned around the corner and continued walking with a smile impishly playing on his lips.
‘New case?’ Eva inquired as she spotted Alfie and Andy smile at each other. ‘No. An old one’ Alfie commented as smiled and shook out a new stick of cigarette from the pack.

Very enjoyable ending. It reads simply, and it’s a good story from start to finish. Trim down the flourishes, and expand on characters with their actions instead of backstories. I think it needs one more round before it’s sent to the agents.

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