Amrutham

AMRUTHAM

“You know what? I refuse to believe this nonsense.” I heard myself say. Sat on the unsupportive brown plastic chair that had kissed more ass than a middle manager at a networking event, I could not comprehend the inherent banality of what Danny had told me. The face I made must have been inviting more explanation because with a smile of someone caught in a lie, he continued speaking.

“Its basic science. Well not basic science. Just that there is a scientific aspect to it, I think. See this is how it goes…” He said putting his phone away. We were seated in the hall of my house. White walls adorned all four sides with occasional breaks for a standard picture of Jesus with ornate framing and a much simpler picture of out of focus lights. Clearly an early attempt at light painting, it looked like two dots and a line drawn by a child yet to master fine motor skills. The sweltering weather was oppressive as usual. I looked at that picture. Maybe I should change it to something more welcoming and open to conversation rather than a testament to my ability, or lack thereof, to photograph things. As usual I was distracted by something I would see every day. I made the herculean effort to tune back in to what Danny was saying.

“…. And that’s it. Its no different from what you do when you buy a lottery ticket.” He finished his thesis.

“There is no risk of death when you buy the lottery ticket, Danny. At least not guaranteed by probability.” I said sipping the warm cup of tea my wife had made for me.

“Really? You could die when you are buying the lottery ticket. You could get stabbed by the lottery ticket seller. You could get hit by a car, a truck, a bike. Hell! You could experience life saving endeavours at the hands of zealots who dislike the color of your shirt!” He said smiling.

“There’s a million ways to die in the South of India, Danny. That does not mean I should willingly throw my life away… for no reward.” I said sipping the tea again. “And what is this? Do you get paid to refer this shit? Is this a commission thing?” I asked jokingly.

That seemed to have struck a nerve. Danny’s face changed from pleasantly conversational to ticket counter staff at a railway station. “Im telling you this because I know who you are. I know what you are like. And I absolutely DON’T want you to do it.” He said with a weird resolve in his words. Like your friend who tells you not to start smoking. “If I ever find out that you tried this, I will personally slap you until the left side of your face looks like a blown up version of your testicle. Do you understand, Victor Johnson?”

“I do but I have a fundamental question though.”  I waited for a beat. I wondered if he knew what I was about to say. I tried to hold my face together.

“What’s that?”

“How do you know what my testicle looks like?”

He smiles, getting up. “I can see your face. If that’s the best God decided to do up there, I can only imagine what the south pole looks like.” He headed for the door. “Im telling you again. Do NOT fucking try it.”

He left. Started his bullet and left and he did that while telling me not to do something. How am I supposed to respect whatever sane advice he gives me when that’s the dramatic ass way he decides to leave? I shook my head and tried to enjoy the tea.

The day after my wife left for her two week stay at her aunt’s place, I decided it was time. I keyed in “Thankan Chettan’s Toddy Shop” on Google Maps and decided to head there. Honestly, the idea had been fermenting (no puns intended) for a while in my head after Danny talked to me. The drive was an hour long. I was extra careful considering my usual pace. I arrived in just under 45 minutes and headed for the shed alongside the road with coconut leaves thatched to form its roof. The black and white board proclaimed the licensee’s name and a more colorful board declared “Thankan Chettan’s Toddy Shop” to the world. There were a few bikes parked outside. It was time to test this urban myth.

I headed inside and found the usual suspects seated across tables. Either severely old men or college kids who had come to taste toddy. I headed to the fat man seated at the table. Dressed in a peach shirt and dhoti, he seemed asleep until I talked to him. I imagine the buzz of the table fan to his side was a mechanical, yet serviceable lullaby.

“Thankan Chetta?” I asked. “Ivide Amrutham kittum ennu kettu.” I heard you serve Amrutham here.

“Kallu Pore?” He asked me, without opening his eyes. Why would Toddy do when I asked for Amrutham? My face, transparent as ever must have answered him.

“Purakilekku chellu.” He said and I obeyed. I headed to the back of the shed which housed a lone island hut. The circular walls had a circular seat built into them with a table in the middle. The spine of the table proceeded to reach upwards and supported the roof. I entered through the narrow opening and sat myself facing the way I came. A shirtless man walked in with a dirty smile on his face.

“Amrutham chodichathu saar aano?” Were you the one who asked for Amrutham, Sir?  I nodded in agreement. His smile deepened and it made me uneasy. He continued in Malayalam. Do you understand what you are getting yourself into?

I mean, I had a fundamental understanding of the science and the probability aspect of this. But I had no clue how to explain that to this man in Malayalam. I just yawned to imply yes. He seemed unimpressed by my reflexively classist response.

“Lokam muzhuvan nedi madutha Alexander enna myranu kudikkan Amrutham ippo konduvaraam.” For the fucker Alexander, who won and got bored of the world, I shall bring Amrutham.

Seemed like a deep cut for a random worker in Toddy Shop in Semi Rural Kerala but I did not think much of it because I was anticipating Amrutham itself. I nodded and waited.

He returned with a nondescript white bottle. It looked like any other Toddy Bottle you could find in any other Toddy shop in the world. He placed the glass. “All the bestu.” He said with his characteristically creepy smile. My eyes were still on the bottle. Was I being hoodwinked? Was this an elaborate prank that Danny had decided to play on me? Was I being served regular ass toddy with a hypetrain intro? I opened the cork and that’s when things began to seem more real.

Unlike anything I had ever smelt before, this smelled like nothing. That’s right. It had no smell. And I wasn’t talking about the general smell of a place or a room. Each whiff I took, I could not smell anything at all. Even the invasive KamaSutra deodorant I had doused myself in seemed to tingle a little less. I poured out a glass and took a sip. And my world was forever changed.

I impatiently waited for Danny to come. My restless leg bounced on the floor as I tried to be comfortable in the seat. I heard the bike pull up to the garage. The way he walked through the door, I knew what was about to happen. The first 5 slaps didn’t hurt as much. By the 7^th one, I decided to put my hands up.

“Stop! Danny!!! Stop it! What the fuck!” I said by the 10^th slap. He seemed relentless.

“A promise is a promise, asshole.” He said loading up for another slap. I pushed him off.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I asked finally and he seemed more incensed. He took a deep breath and then sat down on the fabric couch opposite me. I settled down too, tending to my face gingerly.

“I thought you were joking.” I said rubbing my face. He didn’t reply. We sat there in silence for a few minutes before I spoke again.

“I’m sorry, okay.”

“What do you have to be sorry for. I’m not your fucking mother.” He said dismissively. He let out another breath. “So, what did it taste like?”

“It was indescribable. I think it felt like Lindt Milk Chocolate wrapped in a Wagyu Beef Steak topped off with Biryani.” I said. “So, I obviously tried it again.”

Danny’s eyes widened. “You tried it again? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What it’s the same risk right? If I drink it, there is a one in four chance that I die. And each time I drink that, its a 25 percent chance I die and a 75 percent chance that I taste the most intoxicating, pleasurable, unmatched taste in my life.” I say.

Danny was fuming. “I can never tell if you are an idiot or you’re cosplaying as one, Victor but this takes the fucking cake!”

“Explain it to me then.”

Danny tried to calm himself down. “Amrutham is made from Toddy. Its not normal toddy where methanol poisoning is the risk. The additive in it is derived from the venom of a snake. The venom targets your olfactory receptor, temporarily disabling your sense of smell. But the moment you ingest it, it changes. It pushes your body to produce dopamine unlike any other intoxicant but with the caveat.”

“And what’s the caveat?” I ask not genuinely interested.

“The caveat is that you fucking die! The active ingredient that pushes for dopamine production works overtime 3 out of 4 times. The fourth time, it allows alcohol to break itself down, returning to its original state: the venom. It lies in your stomach, gets slowly absorbed into your bloodstream and causes catastrophic multiple organ failure.” He finishes.

“Yeah. So that’s what I’m saying. Each time it’s a one in four chance that I die, right?”

“No you fucking moron! FUCK! The second time you drink it, the counter doesn’t fucking reset does it? Your chances of survival don’t start at 100 percent. It starts at the 75 percent you used to survive. So realistically the odds of you surviving the second drink are 75 percent of 75 percent. And it decreases like that for every other drink.” The exasperation on his face was palpable. I had a fundamental problem with his argument though. It assumed my luck of survival as a finite quantity, when luck doesn’t exist at all!

“No that doesn’t sound right. The fact that I did not die the first time has nothing to do with the second time I drink, right? It has no bearing on the potency or the function of the drink itself!” I counter. “It means that each time I drink it, there is a 25 percent chance that I can die. I think youre talking about cumulative probability and probability itself without knowing the difference.”

“Really? The difference between- You know what, is there a difference in the outcome of cumulative probability and probability in this case? Because last I checked, you die either way!”

“Yeah but how do you know though? The nature of probability is that there will never be a 100 percent chance that I will die. It can be 99 percent but never 100. And that’s what makes me sure I can keep doing this.”

“What about your wife?” Danny seemed more concerned than angry now. Maybe I had broken through.

“What about her?”

“What if you die?”

“But Im not going to.”

“But what if you do?”

“But I wont!”

“Jesus Fucking Christ. Fine, dude. If you want to fucking kill yourself chasing the dragon, fine. That’s on you. That blood is not gonna be on my hands.” He gets up to leave. “This is exactly the kind of shit I knew you’d pull.” He heads for the door.

“Wait. Danny. Wait. Just… I’ll stop. I promise. Just after this last one. I promise I’ll stop.”

Danny turned to face me. Surprisingly his face had a smile on it. But it wasn’t happy.

“Junkies will tell you, Victor, that junkies are never to be trusted. I know that because I am one. I know you are because look at you.” He motioned to me with has hands. “Look at what you choose to do to the people who care about you.”

“Didn’t realize the Bullet had a high horse mode. How’s the world looking from Mount Moral high ground?”

He stood there quietly, for a brief moment. “For once, Victor, you look small.” He then walked away.

The drive this time seemed more freeing, which was ironic. I had turned my phone off and I wasn’t bothered about the traffic on the way or the ETA. There was no music playing or a podcast droning about interesting facets of history or people. All I wanted was to reach Thankan Chettan’s shop. As soon as I did, I parked the car and practically leaped out. I headed for the counter, ignoring the regulars.

“Thankan chetta! Amrutham…” the way my statement ended was pathetic. The man did not acknowledge my existence even after I asked so pitifully. I could feel rage build inside of me. I moved aside and headed to the back of the shop. The island hut stood there but it seemed occupied. I stepped in and couldn’t believe my eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked.

“If you die here, someone needs to get the body home right?” Danny asks. A bottle placed in front of him.

I sit to the side, waiting for him to pour the drink. “Don’t you understand, Danny? Im not gonna die. I can’t die. The odds are in my favor.”

“Of course they are.”

“I know what you are going to say.”

“Do you? Please enlighten me.”

“You are going to tell me that while it is technically possible, landing 100 heads in a row is nearly impossible on a coin toss. But Im going to tell you that those odds are wrong and at each instance of me flipping a coin, the odds are 50:50. On the first time and the 100^th time.”

Danny looks at me. “Oh I understand the math. That’s why I am pouring you the drink.”

“You’re not drinking?” I asked with a hint of doubt in my voice. Danny’s face revealed nothing more than abject pity. He shook his head.

“This is the drink, Victor. Your last drink. You either die right here, or you walk out of here after. Either way, this is the one.” He said with a certain finality.

“Each time I drink it, I become a better person. You gotta understand that. I learn more about myself.” I say, my vocabulary drifting away as my eyes latch onto the glass. It was as ugly as the day I first saw it. And yet, if I had to choose anything to drink the nectar of the gods, it would be this grimy glass. I could see finger prints on it. I could see scales on it, left behind by congealed toddy and the result of poor dishwashing. I could also see Amrutham inside it.

“Take the drink, Victor.” Danny goaded me. There was something different about him. He placed the glass in front of me. My heart raced. I grabbed the glass and downed it. And waited. The taste hit me. I closed my eyes. It was like my skin came alive. My brain was on fire. The good kind. Like an LPG flame. I felt my breath leave me.

As Danny sat in the driver seat, I looked down at the mat on the passenger side. My eyes could not meet his.

“Don’t you want to know what it tasted like?” I asked sheepishly.

“I don’t.” he said simply.

“It tasted like-“

“Just stop, Victor. You were willing to gamble your life away for some cheap toddy. I don’t fucking care what it tasted like.”

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“It tasted exactly like cheap toddy.” I said all smiles.

Silence engulfed the car. He drove slowly, not playing any music. I felt sense return to me gently. “I think I’ve come full circle. Each time I drank it, it tasted less and less like anything special to be honest.”

Silence again.

“I swear, Danny. I’m done. If its gonna take like shitty toddy, then I don’t think I need to play this game. Id rather risk methanol poisoning.” I laughed.

Finally a smile broke onto his face. “Well, at least I won’t have to bitch slap you after this.”

“I suppose not.” I said still feeling weightless. My head lagging in motion behind the curves. Thank God he took the long winded slow roads. The inertia helped me enjoy my buzz better. If he didn’t, I would have been tempted to ask him how he knew Amrutham tasted like cheap toddy!

*The End*

Chapter 3: Five Minutes

The house that Kevin grew up in remained unchanged in the years after we left. He moved to Bangalore shortly after I had moved to Canada about six years ago. The same old large front yard greeted me as I drove my rental Swift in there. Parking it in the open garage, I walked over the paved floor. The red oxide in the tiles had faded so much that it looked more ancient than it was. I remembered when Kevin and I would play one touch cricket here. Since I was so great at making friends, we had to play one touch because only the two of us would be there. Back then the ground wasn’t paved though. Just patches of mud, baby metal and sand. Or as Fox Australia would call it: a BCCI-prepared Indian Cricket Pitch.

I knocked on the large, teak, single door with extensive craftsmanship on full display. The brass parts needed some elbow grease but otherwise, the eight feet of solid teak wood looked as imposing as the first day I saw it. A few moments later, it opened to a melancholic Janet. Dressed in a reddish loose top and palazzo pants, her face looked a little less pale than the day of the funeral. It had been three days since and I did not know how I expected her to look.

“Aaron. Please come in.” She said with a polite smile. It felt more practiced than genuine, but could I blame her? I awkwardly stepped into the tiled floor. A remarkable clean, white faux leather sofa awaited. I didn’t wait for her to ask me to sit before I plopped down. Force of habit from the old days, I suppose.

“I just wanted to offer my help for anything you might need, you know in this… difficult situation.” I managed. I was already awkward with anyone of the opposite gender. Even when Kevin was alive, my interactions with Janet never went beyond the occasional pleasantries. We would text each other for birthdays or when I needed to plan a surprise for Kevin. She would ask me for a birthday wish video to edit one for him. Honestly, other than the fact that she studied arts and worked in a fintech firm, I did not know much about her at all. I mean, I knew she sang well. Kevin’s Instagram was filled with videos of their house with her various renditions of songs. She would rarely appear on camera though, save for the the occasional couple selfie with him. So, I gathered she was camera shy.

“I really appreciate that. Thank you, Aaron.” She said. “Can I offer you something to drink?” Her voice did break my chain of thoughts. Politeness again. It was a weird feeling for me. The more we talked, the more distant I felt.

“No no. There is no need for any of that.” I said with a labored smile. “Um… I wanted to know if you needed any help with the insurance claim. I actually did some work for an insurance firm here a while back, so I know some of the processes.” When awkward, always make yourself useful. This way, the conversation shifts without it being pointless small talk. Its a truly advantageous strategy that I swore by. The problem is that most normal humans prefer small talk.

I only realized that part when I looked up and noticed that Janet’s face. She looked shocked. Why wouldn’t she be? Is insurance the first thing you bring up to offer your help with? Maybe I should have eased into this part of the conversation, all things considered. But if I had the ability to consider all things and make a decision, maybe Sasha wouldn’t have left. She did say that the last time we spoke. When you sit down, on a comfortable sofa and think about it, did Sasha really leave or did I push her away? Change fundamentally everything about myself and then expect her to put up with it without any warnings whatsoever? Perhaps I had set the house on fire and watched her run for her life and then thought of it as her ‘leaving’. Sasha had green eyes. When Janet opened her eyes after a deep breath was when I noticed that she had hazel ones. Never noticed that before.

In true shitty human being fashion, I did not let her speak. I instead decided to ramble on with a small apology. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to… Its just that… See Kevin was the one who helped me pick out an Insurance Policy. Honestly, I did not even think of getting one until I started working there. Even then he was the one who sat and read through all the documents and compared plans and helped me choose.” That was smooth. In one breath, I had successfully reminded her of her wonderful yet dead husband and, managed to not let her talk. It looked like she was going to say something before she stopped and listened to me patiently.

“Um… Thanks, Aaron.” She said, her voice almost breaking at the consonants. “I actually did start the process.” She moved with an unexpected agility when she got up and disappeared into the interior of the house. She returned a few moments later, holding a blue folder. She handed it to me and sat down on the three seater couch to my left and continued talking.

“So, I have the FIR copy from the Police station. I also have the medical report indicating the cause of death. The death certificate which I got yesterday. I have written down a statement regarding ….” Her voice trailed off. She gulped hard again before she tucked her curled up bang behind her ear. I never noticed that her hair was curly. Now that I thought about it, for the funeral, it did look a little curly. “Yeah, so I just got around to filling Accidental death benefit claim form today. And I have the marriage certificate and my bank details in there as well.”

Most of what she said did not register because I was wishing I took Biology after 10th, instead of science. If I did, maybe I would have been able to make heads or tails of the medical death report. The FIR was written in Kannada and had an attested English translation along with it. The death certificate had more English in it. It mentioned the original record of death in the register in Bangalore Urban. I scanned it. Name, age, sex and date of death. Nothing more of relevance other than their address and the issuing authority’s address. I flipped through again. Maybe I should have read the Police report again, I thought before I found the printed sheet. Janet’s statement.

“At 4:30 AM on January 28, 2023, I, Janet Austin, was woken up by repeated ringing of the doorbell. I could not find my husband in bed and I walked to the door. The night watch man Mr Bantu Shah, two flat owners in our building Mr Ashok Gowda and Mr Jubin Sam informed me that my husband had fallen to his death. In a state of shock, I checked inside the house and could not find my husband Mr Kevin Joseph. I noticed the partition to our balcony was open and went there to check. The stepladder that we used around the house was found, along with an unopened LED bulb. My husband had fallen from the stepladder on the balcony to his death. “

“The Police were called and since there was no eyewitness to the accident, the following conclusion is drawn from the FIR (attached). Mr Kevin Joseph, who usually works between 4:30 AM to 4:30 PM due to market timings of Asian Stock Markets, tried to change the light bulb that had fused on his balcony. Due to uneven footing of the stepladder, he fell from the Balcony of his 12th floor residence. He was dead on impact. The remnants of the LED bulb he wanted to change was found near his body. “

“This is a statement of the events that transpired as recollected by Mrs Janet Austin, Spouse and Primary Beneficiary of Life Insurance taken by Mr Kevin Joseph, Policy Number 770800603120006098.”

The statement was signed by Janet. She patiently waited for me to finish reading the report. I admired the quiet courage she was displaying at such a difficult time. With this amount of expected Trauma, I doubt if I could even sit down and write a statement. I reread the FIR which more or less outlined the what she had mentioned in her statement. The translation also referred parts of the medical report. Shards of glass, of the kind commonly used in manufacturing LED bulbs were found in the body. The cause of death was pretty clear though. He fell, head first onto the paved floor. About 70 percent of his skull shattered on impact. I assume his brain was practically strewn around all over. Thankfully there were no gory pictures. I closed the folder and handed it back to her. The FIR concluded that it was a case of accidental death. Time of death was estimated to be between 4:10 and 4:15 AM.

I looked at her again and tried to compartmentalize the weird guilt I was feeling. I rationalized that this was the best way for me to try and piece together what happened that night without asking Janet anything. And it would have worked too, if my intentions were clear.

“Well, it looks like you have most of it in place. I think it takes 30 days for the insurance company to payout the settlement before penal interest sets in. They will have their own private investigator go through the motions I think. Most of the time, they wont reach out to you unless they have some doubts to clear. If you want me to handle that, I am more than willing to.” I said.

A tired smile of acknowledgment from Janet. This would be the natural end of the conversation. This was it. All I had to do was get up, thank her for her hospitality and leave. I breathed in again. It was time for me to live up to my asshole potential.

“Do you believe the FIR, Janet?”

She was taken aback by the question. Confused by it even. “What do you mean?”

“I mean do you think that the Police got it right? That this was an accident?”

Silence. Painful, gut wrenching silence, sponsored by yours truly. When she spoke again, I expected a stream of tears, hard breathing and a chappal slap to boot. There was none of that. Just a look of what I assume was betrayal.

“Are you asking me if Kevin killed himself? Is that what you want to know, Aaron? That he couldn’t bear to live with me anymore and threw himself off the balcony?” I could not see the hazel in her eyes anymore because of how red the sclera had gotten.

I was a fucking idiot. In my hesitation to come clean to Janet about the email, I had instead asked the one, singular thing I should not have asked. It was all downhill from there.

“No, Aaron. Kevin did not kill himself.” She spoke, with great difficulty, enunciating each word as she tucked her loose bangs behind her ear again.

I spoke up now, so that I could not cause any more damage. The prospect seemed impossible but with the way I was handling the situation, it would not be far fetched to assume that I could nuclear torpedo it further.

“I am so sorry. I didnt mean that at all. I am sorry. Janet. I am so sorry!” Three sorrys. That should totally fix it. With that little band-aid-on-a-broken-pane out of the way, I continued speaking. “This is going to make no sense to you. It barely makes any sense to me, but this is all I have to go on. “ I said as I retrieved my phone from the pocket of my blue jeans. I held up the email that had started all of this.

“Look at the time stamp on this mail. It arrived at 5:30 PM, Canadian time. Thats 4 AM Indian time. I initially though that this was some sort of prank that someone was pulling on me. I checked with everyone I work with and none of them seem to recognize this email.” I hadn’t spoken this fast in my life. I had to, though. To cleat the air. Now it was time for the question. And once I asked the question, there was no way things were going to be the same for Janet ever again. Nothing is as viral in the mind as a thought you cannot shake. I know that because the moment this question formed in my mind, it changed my future.

“This is the only question, I have Janet. And I keep asking this to myself. If Kevin’s death was an accident, why would I get this email five minutes before his death?”

Chapter 2: 6 Feet Under

What do you even do at a funeral? I know that sounds wildly insensitive and that probably is because it is wildly insensitive, but put aside everything else and ask yourself, what do you even do at a funeral? I wish I could tell you that it rained when they lowered Kevin into the ground. That the sun shone at such an angle that it looked high contrast-y yet wet and cool in tone. I wish I could tell you that all the men and women wore solid colors that were muted so that Kevin’s wife, the only woman who was supposed to be dressed in black, looked more aesthetically important. I also wish I could tell you that the people gathered there morosely mourned the murder of my friend.

But that would be untrue. It was a hot Thrissur afternoon when Kevin, or whatever was left of him, reached the church. Because he fell to his death from the 12th floor of his apartment complex, they could not have an open casket funeral. So when I finally got to the table where they had kept the casket, all I could see was cheap workmanship. The edges were frayed from what I assumed was careless handling of the top half. The hooks at the side used to lower the body in by the rope was off alignment by more than 20 degrees. The casket felt both plasticky and wet to the touch, a nearly impossible combination considering its wooden make, even though the varnish was dead for longer than Kevin was. The only time I felt it was Kevin in there was when I looked at Janet. Her raven black eyes were transfixed on where Kevin’s head would have been. Her hand kept touching the wedding ring. Spinning it back and forth between the immediate fingers. Dressed in a black kurti and black leggings, her black hair was let loose. You see it in the movies and to be fair, I had been to a few funerals in my time. You expect the grieving wife to make nonsensical statements like “Take me with you” or “wake up” whilst wailing their heart out. The face of a woman truly alone in the world. The ones who lack the stamina for that usually have the face of death, of abject helplessness. When I looked at Janet’s face, I could not decipher what her expression was. There was grief. There was helplessness. But there was something so puzzling about it. The face of a woman truly alone in this world.

For the most part, you get to pick your friends. Family is more like an Aadhar Card. There is no fucking consent involved there. Kevin’s mom and dad had passed away at an early age. Thank God they were loaded so Kevin had a decent upbringing. Think of Dulquer Salman’s characters in his earlier movies. Janet however came from an orthodox family. In Kerala, that means two things and you would be right on both counts. Her religiously conservative family who belonged to the Orthodox community had precious little to say about their daughter marrying an orphan. So we got the Omni and we got the register marriage done. Her relatives were furious. Her Dad claimed that his daughter had died. They didn’t care. That’s the thing about love, I guess.

I saw an uncle dressed in the same shirt I last saw him wear to a wedding. A woman in a bright red silk saree like she was going from here to her daughter’s wedding. Politicians stuck to their whites and hues. Some of the men had colorful colorblocked shirts. There was nothing fucking special about today to any of them. Most of these people were friend’s Kevin’s mom and Dad. I appreciated the influence they must have had on these people for them to turn up. And Kevin wasn’t a bad child either. He stayed out of trouble for the most part, held his head down, studied hard and was a model student. I recognized Raveendran Uncle, who ran the local tea shop near our place. He was the only one who seemed genuinely heartbroken at Kevin’s death. No surprises there, I suppose. The dude had practically watched us grow up. I recognized Pradeep, an old classmate who had become the local party secretary. Even Shijo, the butcher was there. A lot of the people walked up to me. Some wanted to know when I had arrived. Others wanted to know when I would be heading back. All the conversations, however, were tagged with a pat on the hand or the shoulder. A gentle squeeze. That’s the Malayali way of saying ‘Sorry for your loss’.

Loss. Four little letters to encapsulate what I was feeling right now. I was pretty sure that I had to be going through the stages of grief. This whole interaction section felt like a weird out of body experience. Like I was controlling a character in a sandbox game. It all felt so naturally surreal, if that makes sense. A real world, held to real rules like mortality. An almost out of body experience. You know why I say almost? Its because of the fucking gentle hand squeezes.

By the time Kevin was 6 feet under, most of the crowd had dispersed. I never saw Janet shift her weight. She didnt move until every last one of us had left the burial ground. As I was walking past the gate, I turned back to look at her. I could have sworn I saw a tear roll down her cheek.

Tea was served in the church grounds for whoever stayed. Those who attended had immediately forgotten about why they gathered here in the first place. It always did feel alien to me how quick the segues from lamentation to lively social meet was in Kerala. Neighbours, old acquaintances, far off relatives, even a few old enemies all gathered in front of the steeple of the church to talk about everything on God’s green Earth. In a weird way, that was fitting because not one of them spoke about Kevin.

An hour rolled by before I saw Janet approach the spire. Her steps were labored. She walked at a delicate pace. By this point all that were left of the funeral procession was me and the sexton. I waited silently in the direction of her car. A few of the women walking with Janet too disappeared in different directions. It was 10 past 6. The sun was setting. It was time for me to make a decision. How do you try and console a woman who has lost her only bearing in this mad world? Kevin and Janet were made for each other. And now, here I was staring at one half of it.

“Thank you for coming down, Aaron. I am sure he feels better knowing that you are here.” Janet’s words jolted me out of my annoying head. Kindness, and even a little bit of formality even at this time in her life. I felt a pang of guilt and a hint of admiration. This was a strong woman.

“I dont know what to say… to you Janet. I …. I’m sorry for your loss, obviously. But that just feels so…” I tried to whip up a phonetic and grammatical hate crime with that sentence. I knew that. She knew that.

“Empty… “ She spoke again. But the way she said it didn’t sound like she was angry. It sounded like she understood. “I know what you mean, Aaron. Thank you. If there is anyone else in this world who understands him, its you.”

Understood would be the right word, but do you want to tell her that? That’s what I thought. I remained silent again. My usually prone-to-verbal-diarrhea brain was failing me.

“How is Sasha?”

“She is good. She sends her love.” I was lying about half of those things. But it didnt matter. Janet did not need any of that now.

“Thats good. Thats… really good. Aaron, I am tired. Im going to head back.. Home. I will talk to you later, yeah?” She said, her words breaking at the word Home. She passed off a strained smile, gulping down hard before she got into her black Skoda Rapid. I never responded to her. I dont think she would have heard it either if I did. As the church bell tolled, I looked up at the church. There was no time for me to grieve. I opened up my phone and checked my email. “Murder” the archived mail stared back at me.

Chapter 1 – Three Things in Bangalore.

Three things happened in Bangalore on that cold January morning. The temperature dropped below 15 degree Celsius for a brief yet wonderful two hours starting from 3 AM. A tan colored indie made its most heroic dash across KS Thimmiah road when I assume it saw the most scrumptious sewer rat it had ever seen dash in front of it. Who doesn’t love a warm meal on a cold morning? And finally, the White Maruti Suzuki Dzire numbered 7856 driven by Mr. Nagaraju, a 20 year veteran of the taxi driving game, sped out of control. It mounted the footpath, practically using it as a launch ramp and crashed into a tree. The poor bastard died on impact, probably because his car traveled from 100 km/h to zero in less than a second.

Knowing what I know now, I suppose it wasn’t a normal Bangalore morning for anyone involved. This is probably because of the fact that I was still in Alberta, Canada. It wasn’t a plush apartment or anything. Just my decent living space, and at about 5:30 in the evening, I was just about finishing up on my work. My name is Aaron George. At 28, you realize that maybe being a support engineer at a tech firm is not all that life is meant to be for the average Malayali youth. You don’t wake up every morning excited to head to work. Or in this case, to head into the living room to sit in front of your laptop and just work. It wasn’t the most glamorous job in the world but it paid better than anything I could ever get back home. It is important to understand the mindset I was in at that day because it is the mindset that I was in every day. Bored, dredging through the existential dread that employment offered. We have an idiom for that in Malayalam. Loosely translates to food poking in your bones after eating. Jesus Christ. Translating Malayalam to English was a grammatical nightmare. I meant, just look at that statement. It felt like one of those things that all the people who grew up with me did the other way. You see, when they wanted to talk to you in English, they’d form their sentence in Malayalam first and then go word for word to English. It sounded weirdly wrong to me. Not that I had any English Literature heritage in me, but I always just understood English you know. It just made sense. Clicked in my head to speak in that language. It really helped me knock the IELTS out of the park after clearing my degree in a normal college in Kerala. I mean, I wasn’t event meant to be an engineer, but here I was, telling Sharon with her crazy, online purchase making cat, how to set up and run her account and disable one click payments.

I was living the Indian dream, ironically, abroad. Would India have allowed me to pay off my student loans within 2 years of working? I doubt it. Much like how the American Dream was manufactured in China, the Indian Dream could only be lived abroad. Think about it. If I was in India, I am more than likely to be viewed as a ricebag convert who hates majoritarian politics, loves Joseph Stalin, hates Indian culture, speaks with an accent (which I do, to be fair), loves coconut oil poured over everything from ass to ice cream, and was a secret but happy donor to fundamentalist terror outfits. But here, in Alberta, I am just a filthy Indian, at the worst. You see how much more freeing that is? You see how I can talk to people of the opposite gender without fearing her parents trying to murder her or me? You see how I can drink without a ready to listen lesson about how alcoholism is what ruined my parent’s marriage. You see how I have spendable income and I don’t have to feel bad when I buy myself a pen that costs more than a few hundred ruppees? I’m Indian and proud and I am the proudest and at my Indianest when I am here. But, I digress.

On that January evening, I was checking my phone to see if Sasha, my wonderful girlfriend, had sent me her customary goodnight message. She did and it made me smile. We had this system, because of the time difference, I would send her a good morning message at about 7:30 in the evening. Sunrise at Dinner, she would call it. I liked that. It helped my pun churning brain too, that we both had a cup of sunrise coffee after that. In a relationship, these are the things that matter. The little things. The inside jokes. The broad Human experience can be had with practically anyone. Its these little tweaks and perks and kirks that make it oh so enjoyable! Its also these tiny little idiosyncrasies that you miss when its over.

I was doomscrolling through cringey, funny and cute animal TikToks for nearly an hour and a half before I realized I needed food. Spendable income meant I could DoorDash it in. But on that day, I was feeling like a good boy. So I got up, headed to the washroom to predictably wash my face. I looked in the mirror, closely inspecting every inch of brown real estate I could find that wasn’t covered by my full yet patchy beard. Splashing water on my face, I closed my eyes and batted my baby browns again. For someone with a relatively complex relationship with my own self image, I did always love my eyes. A couple more of the splashes did not hurt. I mean, it wasn’t wise to get my T shirt wet in the winter, but I never really could stop myself from making a mess when I washed my face. My green solid cotton T shirt was peppered with water droplets as I wiped my face down and ran my hand through my medium length black hair, letting the moisture hold it up the way I usually liked it.

I was feeling adventurous and I decided to pop in one of the Malabar Porottas from the freezer into the microwave. I had some non expired Chilli Chicken in the fridge too. It felt like a crime against my ethnicity to not have it with a nice warm beef curry but I really couldn’t be bothered to cook after such a long, tiring day of sitting and working for a living. Nah. Fuck that. I put my phone on the Kitchen counter against the jug of water. To be original, I decided to switch from TikTok to Instagram. Get a little more of that Indian flavor eating some Kerala Porottas with Chinese Chilli Chicken. A few scrolls later, it showed me a lush green paddy field with a canal splitting it, overlooking two apartment towers. I recognized it instantly. Puzhakkal. I chuckled a little as I thought about the last time I was there. I was trying my best not to cry when I told Kevin I was moving to Canada.

I paused orally injecting gluten into myself for a moment of quiet reflection. I hadn’t talked to him in over a month. All things considered that was a decent interval of time to not talk to your best friend. Work gets in the way. Time gets in the way. I mean, I still did wish him for his birthday. So, I guess that makes me a decent friend. I should call him soon, I thought to myself. I would have held onto that thought a little firmer, had I known what I know now.

As it just so happened, exactly thirty days from when I had that thought, I got an email. It was from one of those disposable email service providers. The ones that are particularly hard to trace. I had no idea how it did not make it into my spam folder. It did not have a subject line. All it had one was one word in the body. “Murder”. Weird, right? I knew I was being pranked by someone. And with my being an annoying presence to be around and overall introvert-esque tendencies, it sure was a short list. I did not give it a second thought. Funny how a single word can wreck your life. No I did not give it a single thought for the next three hours. Because three hours later, I got a call from home.

Kevin was dead.

Chapter 25 – 11

Chapter 25 – 11

 

Three months had passed since Christmas night. There was a press firestorm regarding the murders that had happened. The cops were under a lot of pressure to find out who was responsible for all the carnage. While Coonoor held its breath, somewhere in Bangalore, Julia was coming to terms with the whole thing by herself.

 

It had taken her nearly two months to heal from the stab wound. Nari was in a much worse state. He was placed on administrative leave for crossing over state boundaries without the proper clearance required. Either way he would have needed that time to rest. Both his arms and legs were broken to varying degrees, coupled with the veritable cornucopia of injuries he had both on the outside and the inside. Julia had finally moved into Nari’s house. They were due to get married next month. After all, she did get the closure she had so desperately needed.

 

Satyanarayan was now dead. The man who killed her father was now gone and she had the pleasure of having this knowledge. But it did bring a horde of other problems for her to deal with.  She had recently learnt that she was looking at her father through rose tinted glasses. He was a complicated man, to say the least. He had had an affair, which was something. Julia had a half sister, which was tricky. And he did work with someone as slimy as Satyanarayan. To devout a good part of your life to try and bring the man who killed your father to justice is one thing. Looking back, she couldn’t help but wonder if all of this was worth something.

 

She had been so caught up with her quest for revenge, she couldn’t help but think that she had failed to stop and smell the roses. Even her relationship with Nari seemed a little off kilter now. She thought of the time they were at Tiger Hill. She didn’t have the time to think about it then, but she did now. When she saw Nari there, all beaten up and barely alive, did she feel sad, hurt or angry? Why did she not feel any of these easy to define emotions? Why could she not be a normal woman? What about her half sister? The emotions she felt then were so hard to define. It definitely wasn’t love. It definitely wasn’t hate either. It was a weird amalgamation of all things undefinable, much like their relationship. She did not know how she felt about her. Or the fact that she was never found at the scene of the crime. Either Aaron took her or…

 

She stopped to think about Aaron. Or Napoleon as he was calling himself. Last Christmas was a complicated time for her to say the least. Everything she knew about her father had shattered right before her eyes. The man she hoped would help her get some closure surely did, but turned out to be not the person she believed he was. He was an enigma that she could not wrap her head around. To be honest, she did feel a little used. Napoleon had used them all to claim his stake in STT and take it’s riches from Satya. That was all it was about after all. She thought about the vicious circle she was in. Satya had murdered her father and the real Aaron George to satiate his greed. This resulted in her turning out the way she was, hunting for who she thought was Aaron George to get closure on the murder. Fairly logical and simple to understand, but that wasn’t the case after it. Napoleon had murdered Satya now for greed and had pinned the murders again on the same weapon used by Satya – the Angel of Tiger Hill. Her thoughts began to wander as she got lost in her own reflection. Emily.. Her sister…

 

Nari hobbled into the room with an expression that was hard to read. He seemed serious and a little confused as well. He was finally dressed in the Khaki that he so truly deserved and yet so sorely denied. Today was his first day back on the job.

 

“How do I look?” Nari said with a faint smile on his lips.

 

“Like the cop I fell in love with.” Julia said, trying to sound squeaky. She crossed her hands above her waist, crinkling the white cotton top she was wearing. She crossed her legs, trying to be emulate the practised cuteness that pop culture had drilled into everyone.

 

“Bernadette is not a good color on you.” Nari said.

 

“Yeah.” Julia said, trying to regain her composure.

 

It had been a difficult couple of months for her. Christmas had really messed with the dynamic of their relationship. At least, she thought so. Seeing your would-be-husband a few inches from death should not feel this way, she thought. Sure, she loved him more than anything. It wasn’t that she was falling out of love or anything. It just felt… different.

 

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” Nari said, his voice suddenly becoming a lot more serious. “Can we talk in the living room?”

 

Julia nodded and slowly followed Nari as he hobbled out into the living room. The low glass table surrounded on three sides by the plush leather as well as the carpeted rug all seemed natural and in place to her, except for the police file on the table.

 

“I pulled a few strings and I got the case file for last Christmas.” Nari said.

 

Julia wore a look of fake disapproval. It was her duty as the girlfriend to help her man steer away from shit like this. The disapproval was fake, however, due to the fact that she would have done the exact same thing had she been in his place.

 

“Something about that night just felt odd to me and I couldn’t place it.”

 

“Maybe it was your near death experience.” Julia said, trying to defuse the situation with humour.

 

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Nari said, refusing to back down. “There are too many loose ends here, you understand?”

 

Julia did. The whole thing did strike her as odd. It was like a jigsaw puzzle that was almost complete, but with one key piece missing. Julia settled on the couch while Nari settled opposite her. The coffee table that divided them held the case files.

 

“Clearly, the elephant in the room is the murderous half sister.” Nari said.

 

“Clearly.” Julia chimed.

 

“It’s an open and shut case, at least for us. I mean, we know that Napoleon used the same tactic as Satyanarayan. These four murders, to the outside world, were carried out by the Angel at Tiger Hill.” Nari said.

 

This was beginning to feel like one of their conversations that were leading nowhere. The problem with finding your ideal match is that sometimes, just sometimes, you agree on everything in a conversation. The great truth about stories is that there is no essence to them without conflict. Equals should always be adversaries. That is the law of nature. If two equals are on the same side of an argument, there exists a black-hole of interest. Just as Julia had the creeping feeling that she was getting pulled into it, the doorbell rang.

 

“I’ll get it.” Nari said as he hobbled in the direction of the door. Julia sat in silence until he returned, holding a package. “It’s for you.” he said.

 

“For me?” Julia asked, reaching for the package. It was an A4 size courier cover, threaded on the inside. The insides were most likely threaded. She tore it open and unsurprisingly found two sets of papers. One had the look and feel of a legal document while the other looked like a handwritten letter. Julia looked up at Nari, who seemed equally invested in the contents of the package. Julia focused her attention on legal document. After a few minutes of silent perusal, she finally spoke up.

 

“This is a transfer of ownership document.” Julia said, her voice unchanged.

 

“Ownership of?” Nari asked.

Julia paused for a second and looked up at Nari. Nari instantly recognized the twinkle in her eyes. The woman he fell in love with was back. It was like she had woken up from a comfortable slumber.

 

“STT.” she said.

 

“What?”

 

“If I sign this document, I become part owner of STT.” Julia said, her eyes darting from side to side, her mind racing with the implications.

 

“Why would Aaron want to do that?” Nari seemed a mix of angry and confused.

 

“I don’t know.” Julia said, drawing a sharp breath. She then proceeded to reach for the other sheet. It was a one sided paper that was written on with blue ink. Julia spent a few minutes reading it. Once she was done, she stood up, handed the sheet over to Nari to read and walked out of the room.

 

A confused Nari started reading the letter.

 

Julia

 

I would like to thank you for being the kind of person you are. It is your single minded devotion to your goals that has enabled me to achieve mine. Thank you, for being who you are. You and Gowda are interesting, to say the least. For satiating the unquenchable thirst of my ego, I thank you both once again.

 

I present before you, a simple choice. I have attached a small legal document for you to go through. Sign it, and you will become part owner of STT. Your stake is valued at 45 percent. Your dear sister Emily receives another 45 percent. She is currently in a place where she will get the help she deserves, so do not be alarmed about her. 10 percent of the proceeds stays with Sienna George. The choice is yours, Julia. Contact the lawyer mentioned in the document. If he does not receive a response from you within 10 days, the company wll be liquidated.

 

I hope we never meet again. Have a happy life, with Gowda.

P. S. The answer to your question is 11.

 

Napoleon.

 

Nari looked up and found Julia looking right down at him.

 

“He wasn’t after the money.” Julia said, the confusion slowly starting to show on her face.

 

“I thought the entire point of his charade was to steal the company from Satyanarayan.” Nari said. “That was why he pretended to be Aaron, right?”

 

“That’s what I thought too.” Julia said. Nari remained silent, trying to process this newfound information.

 

“What was your question?” Nari finally spoke up.

 

“What?”

 

“11. What is that the answer to?”

 

“I don’t know.” Julia said. She had many questions to ask him. But she did not recall coming out and asking him anything. She had woken up in a hospital in Coonoor the day after Christmas. He had vanished by then. This was the first time she had heard from him after the incident. She did try, in her own small ways, to find out where he was. She had traced Sienna George back to her old age home in Palakkad. There too, no one had any information more than what she managed to wean from the hospital. A man arrived, paid for everything, left instructions and left.

 

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Nari said, his voice never revealing the impatience welling inside him.

 

“I never asked him anything.” Julia said.

 

“Then why would he say that?” He tried to mask the irritation of his questions with a feigned curiosity.

 

Julia looked at him. She had no answer to that. Why would he say something like this? Why? And then it hit her. Her eyes lit up and her body followed suit. A renewed sense of purpose seemed to have taken over.

 

“It’s Why.”

 

“What?”

 

“The question is ‘Why?’, understand?” Julia said.

 

“Why?”

 

“Yes. Why? As in Why do all of this.” Julia said. She felt a familiar numbness creep over her heart. She was surprised by it. Her face suddenly lost color. She used to get this when the back of her mind had figured out something, but her conscious mind had not.

 

“The answer is 11?” Nari asked, noticing the volatility of Julia’s expressions and body language. “What is 11?”

 

Julia looked blank for a second. Her mind was racing past the possibilities. What could be 11? Why was it relevant to Aaron or Napoleon. Or what if this was not related to either of them? What if it was about her or Nari? Or maybe it was two ones. He did know enough coding to encrypt this message after all.

 

As her mind slowly began to unravel, a reassuring hand grasped her shoulder.

 

“I think you are burning out. Why don’t I make you a cup of tea.” Nari asked, returning to his normal self. He gently pulled her into the kitchen. Julia leaned on the slab as Nari got the kettle ready. He sprinkled the tea dust in and waited for it to boil. As the water inside slowly began heating up, a faint whistle began emanating from the mouth of the kettle.

 

“I am spinning out, Nari. I can’t figure out what 11 means. What if this is some kind of code?”

 

“Hmmmm.” Nari said. “Occam’s Razor, maybe?”

 

Julia hummed. Occam’s Razor was a principle in philosophy where it is argued that in cases of conundrums, the alternative that seems the simplest is the best solution. Meaning the least number of assumptions made for a case, the better it is. Julia took a deep breath in and looked at the number 11. What was 11? It was 10 +1 or 9 + 2 or….

 

Julia froze. The numbness that she had felt had finally covered her entire body. Whatever it was that her mind was trying to tell her had now managed to make its way to the surface.

 

“It’s 7 + 4.” Julia said, her voice trembling a little.

 

Nari stared at her blankly. “What?”

 

“11. The answer…. It’s…. 7 + 4” Julia said, swallowing hard. She was finding it hard to believe that she was entertaining such a notion in her head. Often times, looking at a chaotic puzzle can be a frustrating experience. But once that puzzle is solved, once all those individual pieces form a pattern, you could never get yourself to look at it any other way than the solution itself. That was what julia was experiencing now. She had found an answer and right now, any which way she looked at it, only the solution showed.

 

Nari knew that the explanation was coming. But he waited patiently.

 

“Satyanarayan, Javed and the two goons make his tally to 11, Nari.” Julia finally said breathlessly. “It was him. He was the Angel.” The fear radiating in her eyes startled Nari. In all the years that he had known Julia, he had never seen her be affected by anything to this extent. The death of her father was what brought them closer together, but this was the first time he was seeing her as a human being, capable of feeling fear.

 

“What makes you say that?” Nari asked, trying to stay calm.

 

Julia’s blue eyes darted towards him. “It fits! It all fits!” She said. Her brain had finally fallen into gear. It was revving at such a speed that her mouth had a hard time keeping up.

 

“Napoleon Kumar or Aaron George or whoever this man we met was, he was the original Angel at Tiger Hill.” Julia said, launching into an explanation. “When the original murders happened, he was 13 at the time and he was in Coonoor. The method in which the murders were carried out, they could very easily have been done by a 13 year old boy. You know why? Because you don’t expect a 13 year old boy to crush your throat. You don’t suspect a 13 year old to be a serial killer.” Julia said breathlessly.

 

Nari was now shocked. He was starting to connect the dots. He rushed for his room and found the case files that he had requisitioned. He frantically flipped through the pages and found the medical reports. The modus operandi was similar to a fault. There were slight changes in it, but mostly, it did fit. The only noticeable change was the pressure applied at each of points. The throat was rushed a little more. The markings on their head were a little deeper. Factor in the age difference and it all made sense. They had gone on an adventure with a serial killer, and lived to tell the tale.

 

Julia had now managed to follow him into his room. Both of them were in shock. Nari had by now, settled on the bed and Julia followed suit. All around the,m, the pages of the case file were scattered. The crumple of the paper as they sat down was not enough to distract them from the fear induced trance they were in. Julia did not know how long they had sat in silence, revisiting each interaction they had had with Napoleon. The man was never after the money after all. The feeling of betrayal she had experienced was now replaced with a confusing mix of fear and anger. She was re-reading the letter in her head again and again when Nari decided to speak.

 

“What do we do now?”

 

“I can’t decide.” Julia finally spoke up after a long pause.

 

“If we try to re-open this case, our involvement in this whole thing would be exposed.” Nari said gravely. “I’m sure there would be jail time involved as well.”

 

“I know.”

 

“But if we don’t do anything, we are complicit in letting a serial killer roam free. Who knows if he will kill again!? Who knows if he already has killed again! We don’t even know if he killed more people in the time he was in hiding!”

 

“I know.”

 

“Damn it, Julie!!!” Nari said, standing up. “Can you stop saying I know to anything!” He was fuming. Although she knew that the anger was misdirected, it wasn’t a nice feeling to be yelled at.

 

“I get that you are irritated, dear. I am just wondering if there is something else afoot. A larger picture we are not seeing again.” Julia said.

 

“Another one?”

 

“Yes. I can’t seem to wrap my head around this man!” Julia sounded helpless and frustrated. “He does not conform to any of the notions we have had about serial killers! Why was Sienna George alive!? Why is Emily still alive? Why are we alive? Why did he only kill those four people that night? Hell! We don’t even know how he picks his victims!” Julia was beginning to speak louder. Hysteria was not that far down the line. Nari was using this time to regain his composure.

 

“Babe. Just take a deep breath. Okay?”

 

Julia turned and looked at him. “Don’t ask me to calm down, Nari. Calm down? I won’t. I refuse. I don’t know what the fuck is happening. I don’t know why I am alive. I don’t know who my father was. I don’t fucking fuck- I can’t even figure out why he would give me his damn company. I never wanted the money. I never wanted any of this. The man who killed my father had to die. That’s all I ever fucking wanted, Nari. Do you understand?”

 

Nari looked like a man who had stepped on a landmine.

 

“Marriage is really going to test how much we love each other, huh?” he managed to quip. It was his stupid idea of defusing a situation with humour. He knew it was a stupid idea. She knew it was stupid idea, but here they were.

 

Julia was about to launch into another extremely animated rant about what was fundamentally wrong with what he had said, when she decided to stop. Her face changed back to the cold, emotionless mould she would have on, when she was thinking.

 

“A test. The company is a test.” She said.

 

“Of what?”

 

“I am not sure, but I think he wants to see how we will react to money.”

 

“Meaning?”

 

“In the letter, he called both of us interesting. He could have easily ended the letter without calling attention to the fact that he is The Angel at Tiger Hill. But he did not. He presented a simple choice for us in the beginning, and then, gave us a slight hint as to what he was. We figured out the subtle hint, but now, we have put ourselves in a spot.”

 

“I don’t follow.”

 

“If we go after him, we would risk jail time and of course, the sheer amount of money we would get by signing that document. But, we would be moral and true. On the other hand, if choose to do nothing, we would earn a lot of money, some peace of mind, but we would be immoral. We would be complicit in his actions.”

 

“Peace of mind?”

 

“He threatened me, Nari. I hope we never meet again? It wasn’t a wish. It was a warning. Go after him and I will become 12.”

 

Nari was silent. This was a moral conundrum that he was having a hard time solving. His usual response would be to go after the no matter what it would cost him. But this was not his decision. And now, he had to be a little more responsible. Idealism can only get you so far. Marriage is about practicality. Who knew he would have to choose between life and death in their marriage.

 

“Or, by choosing to be immoral, I might be branded a sinner, and I would become number 12 again.” Julia said, smiling.

 

“And you are happy about this, why?” Nari asked.

 

“Because I am never destined to have closure, Nari. My past will always come back to haunt me.” Julia smiled. There was something about this whole scenario that she found comforting. A familiar rhythm of sorts. “It’s a 50/50 shot of it being a bribe to keep me silent, or a test for me to pass. Any choice I make has implications I do not control.”

 

“So.. what have you decided to?”

 

“I’ve decided that I’m going to be happily married housewife with not a care in the world. Now we are going to get drunk, we are gonna bone and we are going to be happy. And we are also going to be stocking up on a few guns.” Julia said with an evil smile.

 

“And the contract?”

 

“None of my concern. I have my man, I have my gun. If the Angel wants to come knocking, that’s his choice. But I choose when I am going to fucking die and I’m not dying at number 12.” She said with a smile.

 

Nari looked at the formidable woman before him. It had taken less than an hour to completely reorient herself. There was something different and familiar about her. Was it the spark that they thought they had lost? He did not know and he definitely did not care. He was happy, she was happy and they were together. This was a woman worth the fight. This was woman who was going to define him. This woman was his truth.

 

“So, whiskey then?” Nari asked with a smile.

 

“Has it ever been anything else?” Julia said with a benevolent yet knowing smile.

Nari chuckled as he walked away. As he headed out the door, his mind got busy again, planning the recipe of the Irish coffee he was going to make. His reappointment could wait for one day. His mind was so busy that he failed to notice Julia’s eyes change. She did make her peace with who she was now. It was odd for her to feel a begrudging gratitude towards the man who had played her. She had finally been able to realize what her life would be. What they said was right. Acceptance does change you.

 

The change was so minute.It was just a flicker. The calm benevolence was replaced with a frightening crackle of violence.

 

If the Angel ever did come knocking, he would be in for a good fight.

Chapter 24 – The Ballad of Aaron George.

Chapter 24 – The Ballad of Aaron George.

 

The man stood there, surveying the wreckage that he had caused. 9 or so men were on the ground, bleeding from different places in their body, coughing out blood. This was Julia’s doing of course. This woman was a marvel of the human condition. With all the odds stacked against her, she had still managed to take on nearly eight men, dismantling them with ease. He was impressed and proud.

 

“Who are you?” Satya asked, his voice sounded a little defeated.

 

“Do you want the key or not?”

 

“I do.”

 

“Then let’s get to it.” The man said walking up to Satya, putting his arm around him. He walked up to the bonnet of the Range Rover and stopped.

 

“Get one of your monkeys to get us a laptop.” Aaron said. “Emily! Keep pressure on that wound. If you let her bleed out, your dad gets nothing!” He called out.

 

Julia was still coughing and moaned in pain when Emily pressed down on her stab wound. What was happening? There were so many unanswered questions in her mind. If this man was not Aaron George, then who was he? And where was Aaron?

 

One of the henchmen who stayed behind brought a laptop.

 

“Why don’t we bring your daughter here so that she can confirm for you that I am not lying.”

 

Satya waved for Emily to come over. As she rose up, she let up on the pressure on Julia’s abdomen.

 

“No no, Emily. Why don’t you bring your sister along?” The man said. Emily obliged and gently lifted up Julia. They hobbled along until they reached the bonnet of the Range Rover, where the laptop was kept.

 

“Show it to me.” Satya said. The man chuckled at the irony.

 

“Use PRISM and give me an output.” He said.

 

“Emily reached out and made a few quick keystrokes. She found an older file that was already sonified and kept. He turned the laptop to the man.

 

“Now, you all must be wondering who I am.” the man said, fishing a flash drive out of his pocket. He plugged it in and continued talking. “I get that. I kinda told all of you that I am Aaron George. That’s on me. I’m sorry.”

 

He continued typing on the keyboard as the flash drive was recognized. He opened up the a window and started typing curiously. The computer made the same color tone sound that was produced from Emily’s throat back in the highway.

 

“Now, my name is Napoleon.” The man said. “I just happen to be a very lucky man. I always happen to be at the right place at the right time.” He said, typing out a few more keystrokes. A window popped up, asking for the password to complete the process. He pushed the laptop over to Emily. She typed in the password and to her surprise, the original file popped up. It was an image file that she had converted long ago. The picture was taken by a photographer named Charles O’Rear, in North California. The image had become the default wallpaper of Microsoft XP. Emily was stunned. The program the man was carrying was able to reverse engineer the sonication process without requiring the sonification factor!

 

“It works!” her robotic voice rang out. Satya’s eyes widened.

 

“Try again, with something different.” Satya commanded.  Emily obliged and opened up the next sonified file. Napoleon plugged in his pendrive again and started typing, this time silently.

 

“Where is Aaron George?” Satya asked.

 

“He is dead.” Napoleon replied. “You should know. You murdered him.”

 

“Can someone…. Someone please tell me what is happening!” Julia groaned. She looked a little pale, probably from the blood loss.

 

“Sure.” Napoleon said. “This is a big file and I have a minute, so. Her egos.”He said, continuing typing into the command window that opened up. “My name is Napoleon Kumar. I am an orphan and I kinda used to roam around a lot. I came to Coonoor when I was about twelve and for the first time in my life, found a friend. His name was Aaron. He had a very closed off family but he loved his dad. He was always tardy, that asshole. Aaron and me grew close and he tried to make me go to school and all. But then, orphans are only cute until they are about 5 or 6. After that, they are just a burden, I guess.” He trailed off and zoned out, his finger stopped.

 

“Anyways, the we got close. He treated me like a brother, which I liked.” Napoleon said, continued typing. “Shit went down in his life when is dad disappeared. After that it was pretty much downhill for him from there. His house was attacked and ransacked. He just had problems after problems after problems. It was a really bad year for us both. His mother became catatonic and unresponsive to anything. She wouldn’t speak. Until one fine day, a man called Satyanarayan reached out to him and told him that he wanted to help.” There was a bitterness in his voice that Napoleon tried his best to mark.

 

“I offered to go in his place, find out what it was. No one with good intentions would call a child to meet with them at Tiger Hill, isn’t that right Satya?” Napoleon said. The computer made the same color bar tone. “You did not want to help him. You wanted to find out if his dad had something called the Master Key. I secretly followed him the day you were supposed to meet him. I was right here, when it all happened, Satya.” Napoleon said.

 

“I had arrived here long before he had. I was on the tier side of the hill. I had stolen a pair of binoculars and I saw everything. He was tardy as usual and you had grown tired of waiting. Muthu Kumar helped you kill the man there. I assumed that you paid him to be the muscle. I later found out that the man you murdered that day was Daniel Sivakumar. You did not want any witnesses left behind and so you murdered the old man living here at Tiger Hill. Once everything was  taken care of, you killed Muthu Kumar too. I saw it all happen. Satya” Napoleon tries his best to control his voice from wavering.

 

“You were putting in the lye when I saw Aaron walk toward you. He was a smart boy. The moment he saw the bodies, he wanted to run. You were stronger. He did the only thing that made sense to him at the time. He tried to run but you caught him. You saw me, that day Satya, I told you to let him go. I told you that I was Aarin and he was just some boy I had met here. That he was a vagrant. Let him go and I would give you everything you wanted. But I was too late. You had already crushed his throat. You dug into his face and slammed in the lye and threw him into the fountain.” Napoleon said.

 

“I came at you with everything I had. We fought and I stabbed your eyes out. I did not know what I could do. I heard a Jeep approaching and I ran like anything.”  Napoleon said. “I ran to Aaron’s house, but how could I tell his mother that her son was dead!”

 

He continued typing as everyone listened to his story enthralled. The dialog box for the password came up again and Aaron turned the computer to face Emily. She typed the password in like a zombie. The original PDF file opened up.

 

“It works.” Emily said. Satya’s face lightened now.

 

“Durai Selvaraj came to Aaron’s house and told me that the Angel had struck again and that I was  a witness to it. That’s when I realized that I had an opportunity. If I left now by bribing this man, I would never have to look back. I could continue living as Aaron George. So I did just that. I bribed him, moved to Palakkad, put up a fake story saying my family perished. I put up Aunty in an old age home and I dropped off the grid.” Napoleon said.

 

“I learned what Victor uncle was trying to do. Over the next 10 years, I learnt coding from scratch and figured out how the Master Key works. Once I realised that you owned STT, I knew that I had a chance. I was back to being lucky again. I knew if Aaron George were to appear out of the blue, you would want him. The threat to your organisation was too great. You would come to me. And now, here we are.”

 

“How do I transfer it to you?” Satya asked.

 

“Well, I have a will here that your daughter can read out for you.” Napoleon said, opening it up. The contract was digitally encrypted using PRISM. Emily read out the contract. It transferred half of the ownership stake of STT to a trust based in Palakkad and the other half of the ownership rests with Satya, which passes on to Emily. It could be digitally signed.

 

“This is a hefty price.” Satya said.

 

“Keep half of everything or all of nothing. That’s entirely up to you.” Napoleon said.

 

Satya was deep in thought. This was a tough call. He did spend the best years of his life enjoying the luxuries of life due to STT. This was his brainchild after all. This was his child too. More than Emily ever was. But would he be able to bisect it and give it to someone else. That too, to the man who had taken his eyes from him. Was it better to survive, damaged and halved or lose everything with honor?

 

“Where do I sign?” Satya finally spoke. He was not a fool. He was a businessman. He just realised that in his haste, Aaron or Napoleon or whoever he was, had made a big mistake. He was asking him to sign something that could be secured with PRISM. If Satya had access to the Master Key, he could use the key to rewrite the contract.

 

“Here you go.” Aaron passed him the computer. Emily helped him sign the document digitally. Aaron handed over the flash drive to Emily who copied the program onto the laptop.

 

“Now that you got what you wanted, shall I go put Ms Fernandes here in the car?”

 

“Why don’t I throw in your mother as well?” Satya said.

 

“Not my mother, but I will take her.” Napoleon said.

 

He then proceeded to walk Julia and the senile old woman to the car. Julia was overwhelmed by everything that was happening. She tried to grab onto Napoleon’s face.

 

“Who are you, man?”

 

“Just get in the car and pass out. It will be a lot easier.”

 

“No. Tell me. What is happening?”

 

“Just stay alive for five more minutes.”

 

“What?”

 

“I need your blessing for what is about to happen.”

 

Julia looked at him and she knew what was going to happen. She had a faint smile on her lips.

 

“You have my blessing.”

 

She managed to settle the old woman into the car. She checked in Nari, who was now passed out. She looked at Napoleon / Aaron and decided that this was it for her. She smiled and closed her eyes

Chapter 23 – Half.

Chapter 23 – Half.

 

Julia was laying on the ground, bleeding and confused. She blamed herself for not factoring in Emily into her plan of attack. She was very close to being an assassin, after all. She felt stupid. The pain in her body was excruciating. Emily still looked confused. Satya bent down by Julia’s side.

 

“I guess life does come around to a full circle after all.” Satya said. “I must admit, I am impressed. Emily tells me that you have managed to take out six of my men. Bring me Aaron. Now.”

 

Julia managed to gnash her teeth and let out a heart laugh.

 

“He is long gone. I told him to escape.” Julia managed. She looked around for her batons, Emily had managed to push them away using her crutches.

 

“I won’t ask again.” Satya said menacingly.

 

“I’m sorry. I’ll tell you where he is.” Julia said, feigning helplessness.

 

“Where is he?”

 

“He’s up your butt.” Julia said laughing again. Every time she laughed, she could feel the blood  ooze out. This was her last stand and she intended to use every breath she had causing something bad to Satya.

 

“Your father was much more of decent man, you whore.” Satya said.

 

Emily balked at the sound of it. Her father had never called anyone that name. It was a little weird for her.

 

“Your father would have been a lot safer if he just wore sunglasses that day, you know?” Satya said, launching into his monologue. “I had never seen his eyes till then. Till that day. He was a brilliant coder. I was going to cut him loose that day. Maybe beat him up and let him go. But on that day, he took off his glasses and I saw those eyes. His bluish gray eyes. I hope you share the same ones.” Satya said. He turned to Emily. “Kill her.”

 

Emily dropped her crutches and sat on the ground. There was something strange about her demeanor now. Julia looked her in the eyes. It was quite strange to stare into someone else’s eyes and see your own.

 

“You hate my eyes so much! And yet your daughter has the same ones. I wonder why.”

 

Satya stood silently. He waved his hand and implored Emily to finish the task at hand. Emily needed answers.

 

“Father. Why does she have the same eyes as me?”

 

“Kill her now. That’s an order.”

 

“Tell me why we have the same eyes.”

 

“Do you dare disobey your Father?”

 

“Tell me why.”

 

“Yeah, you old fuck.” Julia added in, trying to capitalize on the situation.

 

Satya was fuming now. The disobedience. The arrogance. None of this was his. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that this day would come. All the pent up rage in his mind finally blew to the surface.

 

“You want to know why you both have the same eyes?” Satya was fuming. “You want to know? It’s because your WHORE of a mother fucked her father and gave birth to you! You are not my daughter! You never were. You are the daughter of that whore and that bastard!!!!”

 

Emily and Julia were shellshocked. They could not begin to even process this new information. Julia was here to avenge her father’s death and Emily spent her entire life working for the man who did that deed. And now, she had stabbed her sister.

 

“I knew that your mother was unfaithful. I knew it. On that day, I pieced together everything. Why that bastard Daniel was reluctant to work with me. He was fucking my wife. And then that bitch left! To Dubai! Leaving me with you, the result of that sin.

 

“Father…”

 

“Don’t you dare call me that. You are not my daughter.”

 

“Father. Please….”

 

“You will only be my daughter if you end her right now.” Satya said. He knew that this was his last angle. He could manipulate her into killing her sister. This would never come up again, once they had Aaron. She was his daughter after all. His love meant the world to her. “If you ever loved your father, do this for him.”

 

Julia saw the tears running down Emily’s face. It was strange, especially because her robotic voice made it difficult for her to empathize. It was a mix of emotions she was not familiar with. This was her half sister. She was raised by the man who killed their father. And now, he was prodding her to kill Julia too.

 

Emily’s tears continued to flow as she picked up the knife. The sound of her hand gripping the metal made Satya smile.

 

“It is okay, my darling. Everything will be fine.” Satya said. Emily raised the knife over her head. The intended target was Julia’s ribcage. Julia knew that her time had come. If the knife didn’t kill her, the blood loss would have.

 

“STOP!!!” a familiar voice screamed out.

 

“I will give you the Master Key, if you spare her.” Aaron said, walking up from behind the Sumo. His face was weary and sweaty. His voice was hoary. He had just finished the trek up to tiger hill. Emily’s teary eyes turned towards Satya.

 

“How do I know you have it?”

 

“You wouldn’t have hunted me like this if you thought I didn’t.” Aaron said, walking up to the statue. Aaron felt at home near this statue.

 

Satya waved his hand, telling Emily to stand down.

 

“What took you so fucking long!” Julia managed to scream.

 

“The trek was much longer than I remembered.”Aaron said.

 

“I thought you ran away.”

“Of course you did.”

 

“HEY!” Satya screamed, breaking their flow of banter. “Give me the Master Key.”

 

“Sure! You only get the master key as long as she’s alive.”

 

“You are hedging a lot of your bets on this woman, Aaron-”

 

“Cool. Whatever.” Aaron said cutting him off. “Keep your half sister alive. Your daddy needs that.” Aaron said to Emily.

 

“How dare you cut me of-”

 

“Oh by the way,” Aaron said, trying to show him up. “How are your eyes. They look much healthier than the last time I stabbed them out.”

 

Satya was incensed. Aaron could hear the man screeching on the inside.

 

“Jokes aside, Sathya, I’m gonna need you to give me half.”

 

“Half?”

 

“Half.”

 

“Half of what?”

 

“STT, obviously. I want half of it in my name.” Aaron said, grinning. Julia stared at him shocked.

 

“Bring her out!” Satya yelled He was fuming. This little cunt had yapped for too long.. One of the stragglers who were hiding in the car came out, pushing a woman ahead of him.

 

“I think you have a little bit of an insurance problem here, Aaron.” Satya bellowed. “Behold! Sienna George!”

 

The old senile woman stood confused in the middle of all the ruckus. She seemed alien to all of this. Julia was shell shocked. Too much of information in too little time. Aaron’s mom was not dead? Aaron looked shocked. He then managed to compose himself.

 

“You have a gun?” He asked Satya.

“No. I don’t.”

 

“Oh that’s such a shame.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because if you had a gun, I would have shot her myself.”

 

“WHAT!!?” everyone who was conscious enough to listen screamed out in unison.

 

“You would shoot your own mother?” Satya asked, half impressed, half shocked by the turn of events.

 

“That’s not my mother!” Aaron said. Firecrackers started going of in the distance.

 

Satya started glowing. “Javed! Did you get me the wrong old hag?”

 

“Woah woah! You need to calm down, Satya. Treat your employees right. Be a leader and not a boss.” Satya continued screaming.

 

“Javed! You fucker! Where is Sienna George!!!?” Satya screamed into the night.

 

“Calm down, Satya. You got the right woman. That is Sienna George.” Aaron said, being smug.

 

Satya looked at him like a confused goat. “Then!?”

 

“I am not Aaron George.” said Aaron smiling.

Chapter 22 – Cain

Chapter 22 – Cain

 

Tiger Hill Cemetery sat way off the main road. It was about a kilometre inwards and the only way to access it was by a road that passed through an old tea estate. There are no streetlights on this road and even the localites have a hard time locating it. There are no signboards on this road and you would only know you have reached once you start seeing the tombs. It’s an old Christian Burial Ground with Gothic features and angel statues.

 

A bloody part of Coonoors history was forged here when the Angel at Tiger Hill struck in 2003 and claimed the lives of 6 people. He struck again in 2004, and claimed three more lives, not before losing his own. People say that the spirits of those who died there still haunt it. SOme even say they can hear screams from there at night. Even during the day, it was a hard location to find.

 

Julia was driving the Sumo up the muddy roads, unable to see clearly. The yellowed out lights were not enough to penetrate the thick fog that engulfed all her surroundings. Christmas mass must have started at the All Saints Church now, Julia could tell due to the singing that echoed over the valleys. Even with the location that she had received on the phone she found, it was hard for her to find the road.

 

It is kind of hard to explain the kind of sensory deprivation one has to go through when driving through the fog. The visibility with high powered headlights would be close to 6 metres ahead of you. This might seem like a lot, before you consider the fact that if you are in a car, and if you were doing 10 kilometres an hour, it computes to about 3 metres per second. This meant, at any given point, from where you seet, you can only see an effective 3 metres ahead of you. This is barely enough for you to even follow the road. The thick fog also damps out the sound, meaning you can barely hear the road or anything on it. If this wasn’t enough, the road to Tiger Hill is not tarred and has abrupt turns with no sign boards or guiding signs. Think of it like swimming blind in a pool filled with mines.

 

The road to heaven is paved with thorns. Julia thought to herself. From the time Aaron left, she could not help but smile. She was always alone in life and there would be no exception. She knew that she was not a well adjusted person. With the kind of trauma that she had undergone, it was surprising that she hadn’t killed anyone yet.

 

She was driving into certain death and she knew it. And yet, she was smiling. There was a good chance that they had tortured Nari, either to get information from him or to get even for whatever happened with Emily. There was a possibility that he was already dead as well. She had to know for sure though. She had to know that she did everything she could to save him.

In the distance, she saw a yellow glow. The fog as getting a little thinner. She decided not to accelerate. Did she know what she was going to do? The answer was debatable. She had a plan. Or at least a semblance of it. She gripped the jacket she had packed tightly around her.

 

As she pulled closer to the light, it began to make sense as to what was going on. A Mahindra Scorpio was parked along the side of what could legally be called a road. A man in his 30s stood beside it. As the fog cleared, two more came into view. Julia stopped next the car. The grizzly man leaned up against the door of the car and peered in. His associates decided that it wa completely okay to open all the doors and do a through check. Were they checking for weapons? She did not know.

 

“Step out of the car please.”

 

“Are you Satyanarayan?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then I’m not stepping out of this car.”

 

The man looked at her. His eyes were bloodshot. He gritted his teeth and then smiled.

 

“Step out of the car.”

 

“No.”

 

“If I ask again, I will put my hands on you.”

 

“Go ahead. Put your hands on me and see what happens.” Julia flashed her most disarming smile. The man proceeded to slowly bring his hand to her shoulder. Julia kept looking at him, her eyes flickering with intensity. Inches before her shoulder, the man stopped.

 

“That’s what I thought.” Julia said.

 

The man’s ego looked hurt. But he clearly had orders.

 

“Take the next left.” He said as he stood back and waved her through.

 

“Thank you!” Julia said, her voice squeaked artificially high. She plopped the car into gear and slowly proceeded ahead. What was she thinking? In an enclosed space like a car, she ahd no way of taking four men on at the same time. Why would she resort to bluffing like that? It was like her mind was not her own anymore. There was a marked change, It was like she was possessed or something. Julia lightly slapped herself to bring her back to the present. Her mind was roaming and whatever it is that she was going to do, her mind needed to be in sharp focus.

 

She counted four men at the car. Her conservative estimate of how many eople she would have to go through was fifteen. Maybe she did have chance now. As she continued driving, a similar glow started forming in front of her. This one was considerably brighter. As she got closer to it, she realised that she might be in trouble. Up ahead, just beyond the infamous angel statue stood three cars. Two Scorpios and a Range Rover. Their headlights, combined with three solid light sources, which she suspected to be halogen bulbs, formed the golden glow.

 

This was it, she thought to herself. She parked her Sumo to the side of the road and exited it. The scorpios were parked parallely, facing each other. Their beams never crossed and formed four tunnels of light in the fog. The Range Rover was parked straight behind the Angel Statue. It’s white projector beams illuminating it in an unearthly glow.

 

As she continued walking into the light, she calmed her breathing now. There was a god chance that she would be killed any moment now.

 

As soon as she was 10 meters or so from the statue,a voice boomed out.

 

“Julia Fernandes. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you.” The voice belonged to an old man. She looked up at the Range Rover and saw a man walk from beside it out up front. Julia noticed his features. He had a head full of hair, albeit grey. He looked easily 60 years old or more. He proceeded to walk up to her and Julia continued sizing him up. He was dressed in a white shirt and black formal pants with boots and a warm looking brown leather jacket. In contrast, her black jacket looked cheap and it was by no means cheap. The man continued walking up to her and she noticed his walking stick. Was this man blind?

 

Julia tried her best to project an air of confidence to her as she walked up. The finally met, a few meters from the angel statue.

 

“I would greet you back, but my dad taught me never to talk to strangers.” She said.

 

“Ha ha. Very well then, my name is Satyanarayan. Nice to meet you.” the man extended his hand for a shake. Julia obliged.

 

“Jahnavi Sivakumar.” She said.

“Ah yes. Daniel’s daughter.” Satya said. “I don’t know if you noticed. I am blind, so you don’t mind if I call my assistant to help me out, do you?”

 

“Not at all.”

 

“Thank you.” Satya said. “Javed!” he called out.

 

Javed exited the Range Rover, and walked over to the back and proceeded to open the boot of the car. There was a loud thud and then Javed came back into view, dragging something. It was Nari. Julia steeled herself. Any sign of weakness would render her strategy inefficient.

 

“Now, Jahnavi-” Satya said, his voice remaining pleasant and conversational, “Do you mind if I call you that?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Lovely. I found this enterprising policeman with my daughter in a hospital and she insists that you lot kidnapped her.” There as a tinge of rage in that.

 

“Oh?” Julia asked nonchalantly.

 

“I know! I was surprised too. I knew Daniel didn’t raise his daughter like that. But I guess a woman without her father might turn out that way.” There was no pretense now. Satya was pissed. “Someone decided that ti was a good idea to break my girl’s legs. As a proud father, I happily returned the favour to your friend here.” He said.

 

Javed had dragged Nari till the foot of the Angel statue. He was passed out cold and there were welts on his face, where he had been beaten. Julia’s blood boiled to see Nari like this.

 

“Javed? Is Jahnavi looking at me?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Describe it to me.”

 

“If looks could kill, sir…” Jave said.

 

“Ah. That does feel good.”  Satya said, his voice relishing the tension in the air. “I must admit Julia. My initial plan was to somehow convince you that Aaron was the one who killed your father. You know? Get you to turn him over for sweet revenge. But fate has a way of being kind to me. My daughter managed to reach out and she even brought me a present.” He said, flicking his walking stick in the direction of Nari.

 

“Can I check his pulse?” Julia asked, controlling her anger. She needed to stay calm throughout this if she wanted to get him out of this alive.

 

Satya nodded and she immediately bent down to check just how hurt Nari was. He was barely breathing. His mouth was bleeding and he couldn’t have opened his eyes even if he wanted to,. They were that swollen. He was breathing and he had  astrong pulse. But it was better to leave him unconscious for now. Sherose back up to look at Satya in the eye.

 

“I want him back.”

 

“I am a businessman, my dear. You can have him… for a price.” Satya said with a slithery quality to his voice.

 

“Name it.”

 

“Aaron George.”

 

“No.”

 

“I’m’ sorry?”

 

“I’m not giving you Aaron George.”

 

Satya remained silent, thinking. Julia noticed his brows furrowing.

 

“Javed.” He said quietly. Javed responded by lifting his heavy foot and placing it on Nari’s chest rather quickly and with the force of a weight dropping. Nari coughed back into consciousness and started screaming.

 

“Javed? Do you think she would be willing to negotiate now?”

 

“Oh you don’t need Javed to answer that one.” Julia said calmly. Inside her head, she was screaming with rage. If she ever made it out of this one alive, she was going to hunt every one of these bastards down and kill them. “I am not.”

 

“Oh. Then we might as well as kill him.”

 

“Go ahead. I have no use for him anymore, now that I know who killed my dad.”

 

“My daughter believes otherwise?”

 

“The one that throat fucked Siri?”

 

There was a sudden rage in Satya’s voice. His face grew read and he raised his walking stick to strike her where she stood. Julia saw the motion coming and ducked out of the right away.

 

“Looks like I hit a nerve there.” Julia said. “Listen, I can do this all day. Honestly, I’m very tired and I just wanna go home and sleep. So can we get to a deal here?”

 

Satya was silent.

 

“I have a signed confession from Dr Christopher D’Souza, and a recording of him stating explicitly that you paid him off to cover up the fact that you killed my dad.”

 

Satya remained expressionless.

 

“I will hand those over to you, if you give me this man and 50,000 US Dollars.”

 

“That’s a lot of money.” Satya said.

 

“For a man with a Range Rover, you are awfully cheap.”

 

“I am a businessman. Not a fool. Throw in Aaron George and we have a deal.” Satya said. There was a form of mild amusement in his face.

 

“Hmm.” Julia said. She was going to have to bluff her way out of this one. “I’ll give you the tape now and take him, that will be my insurance. Once I get him out of here, Aaron will come to you.”

 

“He can leave when Aaron comes.” Satya said.

 

“Deal.” She said and she reached for Nari. With great effort, she managed to get him propped up by the foot of the statue. She exhaled heavily and tried to stepback when Nari held on to her hand.

“Where is Aaron?” he managed to whisper..

 

“I can handle this. Don’t worry.” She lied. It waa a scene for the ages. A lone woman standing up near the statue, faced with insurmountable odds. As she continued breathing, her body felt heavy.. This was it now. There was no way out anymore. She looked up at Javed and was surprised to see Emily stand there, crutches under harms and her legs plastered.

 

“Hello, Julia.” The woman said. “Where is Aaron?”

 

“You know, I want nothing more than to just kill you both right now.” Julia said, slowly walking up to face them. She eyed Javed. He was watching her closely. Any sudden moves and that was it. “No offense buddy, but if you try to step in, you would go down too.” She said to Javed.

 

She thought of Nari’s face one last time before she opened her arms, revealing the batons. This time, there were nifty little blades attached to them. The men from the sides saw the opportunity and jumped in.. The first one went down when she gashed his face and his forearm. The next one got a few cuts on his calf muscles and shoulder. The next one had his ear bisected while the fourth one receded repeated gashes in his chest.

 

Julia’s eyes flared in fury as she took down four attackers in a matter of seconds. She was playing to win. Javed decided that this was the right time to step in and landed a kick square in her chest. Julia shot backwards and fell on her back. She rolled to the side and stood up again. If her count was right, there were 8 henchmen left and of course, Javed and Emily. As Javed charged at her like a rabid bull, Julia knew that she had no chance over powering the man. He was built like a bruiser. WIth no other option, Julia charged at him too. It was a game of chicken that she was going to play. As both the beasts refused to back down, Javed spread out his arms to have Julia in his grip. With less than a second left for impact, Julia fell to the ground, as if shot from the back. Javed was confused. He could not stop his momentum. As he saw the woman reach his feet, he knew he had made a big mistake. She flashed something metallic by his feet and took the hit of his kick in her abdomen. Javed felt shooting pain in his legs and realised what had happened. She took his kick just so that she could cut his leg. His legs crumpled under his weight as Javed fell to the ground, screaming.

 

Julia coughed hard as she got up. She could see Satya panicking.

 

“Call the rest of them. Get them back here.”

 

“We can’t sir!”

 

“Why the hell not.”

 

“They are guarding the exits sir. The fog is interfering with out equipment. We can’t reach them.”

 

Julia smiled as she overheard the conversation. Coughing the last of the blood in her mouth out, she charged towards Satya. Since Emily was disabled at the moment, shh only had to deal with the one brave soul that was charging at her. She managed to grab his throat and circle around by driving him to the ground.

 

She stretched out her arm and the baton was ready. This was it. Satya was within her reach. She breathed in and swung her hand out.

 

The knife breached the skin and blood oozed out as Julia looked around confused. Her blade had never reached Satya. The knife came from her stomach. She was bleeding. She looked up to see Emily, her face a picture of serenity. Their eyes locked and Julia saw the blue in her eyes. Emily’s expression changed momentarily. It was like looking in a mirror. Julia clutched her stomach and fell to the ground. It was over.

Chapter 21 – A simple choice.

Chapter 21 – A simple choice.

 

The Tata Sumo clambered onto the curved road, leading them up to the Hospital where Gowda was. Aaron had used Dr. D’ Souza’s phone to call the hospital to reach Gowda. He was recovering and as usual, he was ready to go like Captain America. All through their journey from the tea estate to the hospital, Julia remained silent. Aaron had assumed that she was taking her own sweet time to process the whole situation. It must be difficult, he thought, to finally have a face to all the pent up rage that you had put into yourself for so many years.

 

Aaron’s grip on the Sumo’s steering tightened as he pulled up by the hospital. He could not shake the feeling that something was going to horribly wrong. He stepped out of the car and Julia followed suit. They slowly made their way to the Casualty ward.

 

“Is there something you are not telling me Aaron?”

 

“What?” he asked, turning around to see Julia with an odd expression on her face.

 

“I just get this strong feeling that this whole setup is not right, you know?” Julia said, her voice remaining dangerously calm and composed.

 

“I get that too.” Aaron said. “A lot of things have changed in such a short time, I don’t even know who to trust anymore.”

 

“You don’t trust me?” Julia had a weird tone of surprise to her question.

 

“Trust you?” Aaron smiled good naturedly. “I do trust you as far as I can throw you.”

 

“Aww you trust me so well!” Julia joked.

 

“Hey! Respect the neck fat.” Aaron said as they turned the corner into the casualty ward. It was Christmas eve and the place was all but abandoned except for the few nurses who had the misfortune of being on duty that night. The curtained partitions added a sense of privacy in an otherwise communal space.

 

“I still can’t shake this feeling Aaron.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah. Everything just feels so odd.”

They finally reached the partition assigned to Gowda. As Julia parted the curtains, she let out a gasp of horror.

 

The bed before her was empty, except for a mobile phone. Julia instinctively reached for it and checked to see the last dialled number. Her heart began beating faster as Aaron tried to make sense of the situation. Gowda had been taken. Julia put the phone on speaker. The line rang for 30 seconds before being disconnected. Aaron tried to look around to find any of the nurses or anyone stationed there who could help them. Aaron ran around and asked everyone ehe could see about their friends. No one seemed to have noticed that they had slipped out. By the time Aaron came back, he saw that Julia was on the bed.

 

“They have him.”

 

“How?”

 

“The bitch must have taken him.”

 

“Okay. What do they want?”

 

“For us to meet them at Tiger Hill Cemetery.”

 

“When?”

 

“They want us to call and let them know.”

 

Aaron was quiet. Going in there without a plan would be equivalent to signing their death warrants. Luckily enough, Aaron had both a death wish and a plan in place.

 

“Julia?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Look , there is no easy way to say this, but someone has to. So here goes. Right now, if we go into Tiger Hill Cemetery, there is a good chance that both of us will die. Now, we can avoid this whole scenario by getting the fuck out of here right now.”

 

“Running away? How brave of you.” Julia said, with a nasty edge of sarcasm to her voice.

 

“Well, I ran away 15 years ago and here I am again.”

Julia was silent.

 

“Alright. So you don’t want to run away, right?”

 

Julia just looked Aaron. The question seemed infinitely simple. Do you want to live, knowing full well that you let the man who took everything from you live? Or do you walk into the final trap he has laid out for you, giving him one final victory. Human sentimality was such a fickle and complex thing.

 

“Do you have a plan then?” Aaron tired pushing the conversation forward. Julia’s silence was aggravating his mood. Time was ticking away. He had waited 15 long years for the confrontation that was about to unfold and right now, Julia was being a small impediment to his plans. He needed an ace up his sleeve when the chips were down and Gowda had just given himself away.

 

“I don’t.”

 

“Make up your mind, Julia. Do we die tonight? Also, can I borrow the fat man’s phone?”

 

Julia’s eyes darted from left to right, as if her mind was playing out the different scenarios in her head. She handed over the phone to him. After some fiddling, he handed it back to her.

 

“What do they want from us?”

 

“From you, I do not know.”

 

“And from you?”

 

“The Master Key.”

 

“Do you have it?”

 

Aaron did not answer. He stared at Julia coldly.

 

“Do we have a plan?” Julia asked Aaron. Suddenly, there was a tinge of suspicion on her face.

 

“It depends on your choice. Julia.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, it’s quite simple. If you choose to run, then it’s pretty easy. We go as far as we can safely go, split up and never see each other again.” Aaron said. All the warmth of his voice had eroded and what was left was a cold, husk of a voice.

 

“And if I choose to stay?”

 

“Then, it’s a little more complicated, isn’t it. Unless you have a deathwish, we have to plan shit in a way that wont have us executed. We don’t have the resources. We don’t have the weaponry. We will be heavily outnumbered. If either of us get captured, we are screwed.”

 

“Maybe.” Julia said. There was glint in her eye, which Aaron knew was not fear.

 

“Maybe?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Only if you are captured is it game over. At least for you. If I get captured, You can simply choose to escape.”

 

“That is true.”

 

“So when we put things in perspective, only I have things to lose here. You can save yourself.”

 

Aaron was silent. If only she knew the truth, he wondered in his mind.

 

“So I guess the choice is not really mine, is it Aaron? It’s yours. You get to choose. You can either run now and never look back, or you can walk into an ambush and get fucked.” Julia said. Her voice was ashen. Aaron remained silent.

 

“At least buy me dinner first!” Aaron said, trying to lighten up the mood.

 

There was a quiet moment between them. Perhaps she was thinking of what could have happened between them, if none of the baggage was there, just like him. He wondered if they would have ever met in a situation anything unlike this. He wondered how their dynamic would have been if Gowda did not exist. ANd how things would have been so different if things were not so tragic in their past. Otr at least her past.

 

“Thank you Aaron?”

 

“Why are you thanking me?”

 

“You knew very well that this stopped being your problem a long time ago. You are still here. You haven’t run away. I cannot ask any more of you. Please leave.”

 

“What?”

 

“Leave now. This is not your fight Aaron. It is mine. Perhaps this what destiny had decided for me long ago.”

 

Aaron just stared at her. He was at a loss of words. This was not the situation he had in mind. This is not how he thought any of this would turn out.

 

“What are you going to do?”

 

“Rescue my boyfriend.” Julia said with a sheepish smile. “Or die trying.”

Chapter 20 – Dr D’ Souza’s dreadful day.

Chapter 20 – Dr D’ Souza’s dreadful day.

 

“Dr. D’ Souza!” Aaron called out, walking along the verandah of the Health Clinic near All Saints Church in Coonoor. The old man in the red striped shirt and faded beige pants turned around.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Hi! I am Aaron George. I just wanted to ask you a few questions about one of the cases you worked.”

 

“Oh. You have to schedule an appointment at home. It’s not appropriate for me to talk about such things at my place of work here.” The old man said. Aaron took one look at this docile man. He was about 5 foot 5 inches tall and was flabby all around. His cataracts had set in long ago and Aaron couldn’t tell if he needed the surgery or already had it done. His white hair covered his head sporadically along the sides while leaving out a neat little patch in the middle, probably for future explorers.

 

“Absolutely sir. I was actually going to take you to the Hampton Bar, where we could talk in private, but I will be sure to schedule an appointment some other time.” Obviously, he was bluffing. One look at this man and anyone would have known that he went hard on the drinks. If he had let the man know about the paucity of time he was facing, Dr. D’ Souza might have decided to play hard to get. Offer to take him out to a bar, however and he might change his mind.

 

Christopher D’Souza looked torn for a second. He looked down, then up and back down again before settling on Aaron’s face.

 

“What is the time now, boy?”

 

“It’s 4:30, sir.”

 

“Ah. Have me back home by 6:30?”

 

“Absolutely sir.”

 

“Do you have a car?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

“Good then. Let us not waste another moment.” the man said in his cruddy voice. Aaron smiled with a tinge of pity on his face. If only this old fool knew what he was getting himself into.

 

Everyone in Coonoor was busy getting ready for Christmas. For the Christians especially, this was Christmas Eve, a celebration by itself. the whole town was decked up with Christmas trees in every house and fair lights all over the places. Even this tiny little health clinic was decked up too. The lone Star in the entire building passed them overhead as they walked to the Tata Sumo parked behind it.

 

After the getting shot in the leg incident, Gowda was pretty close to being useless. Because the heavens intervened and the bison saved their arses, they were able to hitchhike into town saying they had an accident. The unconscious Emily and Gowda didn’t attract any suspicion as they got a bus to Coonoor.

 

As soon as they made it into town, they split up. Julia took charge of finding a hospital and getting Gowda and Emily patched up whilst Aaron went about finding a car. Emily’s bag of tricks had saved them once again, this time I’m the form of bundles of cash that have them an old, run down Tata Sumo. The man who sold it to Aaron seemed more than happy with the 80,000 Ruppees he was offered for a car that barely ran.

 

As soon as Gowda was patched up, he was raring to go. Aaron couldn’t tell if it was the blood loss that was making him talk crazy or maybe it was his desire to be He-Man. He was in no shape to be going out into what could quickly evolve into a warzone. So Aaron had decided that Gowda would stay behind in the hospital, at least until they had Dr D’ Souza.

 

As soon as they reached behind the building, Aaron pointed to the dilapidated Sumo parked there.

 

“This is me.”

 

“Oh.” Dr D’ Souza said, his voice clearly disapproving of the car. As they settled in, the man made a face for every little inconvenience in the car, like a lack of a proper seat cover, or the lack of cleanliness or the lack of seatbelts.

 

“Sorry about the car, Dr D’ Souza. I had to get one to use here.”

 

“No no. That’s alright. God does not shower his blessings to everyone equally, clearly.”

 

“Hahaha. Yes.” Aaron said, his fake laugh so evident and yet so lost on the pudgy man’s face.  He pulled the car out onto the road and began to make his way down the twisted roads of Coonoor. The sun was setting on Christmas Eve and the town looked all the better for it. Coonoor had a strange sense of beauty at twilight and this was compounded by the date.

 

“So, which of my cases do you want me to talk about?” Dr D’ Souza  asked with a hint of pride in his voice. “I remember all of them to the T.”

 

“If I may, sir, why did you leave forensic medicine then?”

 

“I got bored to be honest my boy. I couldn’t be bothered to work with policemen anymore.”

 

“Why sir?”

 

“The corruption is very difficult. It makes it very hard for someone who has integrity to work” Dr D’ Souza said with a little bit of chest thumping zing.

 

“Ah yes, sir.” Aaron chimed in. “May I ask what your bst case was sir?”

 

“You will have to be a bit more specific my dear. I have so many great cases it is hard for me to stop and pick one. This mind is an encyclopedia, you see.”

 

“Oh my mistake sir. I meant to ask, what was the one case that made you use all your skills and knowledge?”

 

Dr D’ Souza sat in deep thought for a moment before lighting up, going on a rant. “That would be the Nellore case where a man was electrocuted in the middle of a field with no power source anywhere nearby. It took me a lot of time and effort to piece together that mystery. Or the case of the poisoned husband, where a poisoned man had managed to survive for three days after accidentally ingesting poison. Or the case of the youngest murderer in the history of India. All of these would make sensational stories without a doubt.”

 

“I’m sure, sir. It is an absolute pleasure to be hearing all of this from you sir.” Aaron said, as he began to accelerate a little. “What is your full name, sir?

 

“Christopher Marcus D’ Souza.”

 

“And you handled how many cases in your capacity as Forensic Surgeon”

 

“In conjunction with Tamil Nadu Police, it was around 250 or so and I have consulted with many other departments as well, so about 350 would be an accurate figure.” the man said.

 

“And in any of those cases, have you had to compromise on your integrity?”

 

Dr D’ Souza seemed very indignant at the question. His nostrils flared and he started sweating. In Coonoor. In the winter. “Young man, you must learn to respect your elders. I am your senior by how many years. Is this the way to talk to someone who has seen more of the world than you have? Is this the right attitude? My god! Where have the manners of this generation gone? Ti hell! To bloody hell! How dare you question my integrity!”

 

Aaron stayed silent throughout the rant of the man and waited for him to calm down.

 

“You did not answer my question, sir.”

 

“No. I have never compromised.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

“Good, so the case I wanted to ask you about is the Angel at Tiger Hill Case.”

 

The man froze for a second. Aaron knew that this was his moment to capitalize.

 

“Do you know who I am?”

 

“What?”

 

“Dr D’ Souza, do you know who I am?”

 

“N-No.”

 

“Good. I have a very simple question for you.”

 

Silence.

 

“Why did you frame an innocent man and make him a serial killer when there was no evidence to prove that he was even a criminal in the first place.”

 

“You don’t understand. The Hunting Knife- we had evidence.”

 

“Bull shit. You knew very well that those carvings were not made with a hunting knife. You just picked up something from Mr Sivakumar’s house, bought a copy, smeared some blood on it and claimed to have cracked the case. You fraud.”

 

“That was not-”

 

“Their ears were never punctured.”

 

“Killers can change their modus-”

 

“You did not even check their missing toenails.”

 

“Yes but -”

 

“You are a liar and a fraud Dr D’ Souza and your day of reckoning is coming soon.” Aaron said, flashing his most evil smile. “You know why this car has no seatbelts Doctor?”

 

WIthout another word, Aaron started cackling like a madman and shifted gears like crazy, speeding through the dimly lit curved ghat roads.

 

“Stop! HELP!” The man screamed out helplessly.

 

“No one will help you now, Dr D’ Souza. No one can. Except me.”

 

“What do you want!?”

 

“The truth!”

 

“No.”

 

“Well, then it’s time to make peace with your deeds, Dr D’ Souza.” Aaron said, speeding away, deep into a tea estate. They had long since left the roads behind. Thankfully, this Tata SUmo was a very capable allrounder, having no desire to give up on the rough terrain.

 

“Please let me go! What wrong have I done to you?”

 

“Who was the real Angel at Tiger Hill?” Aaron pressed on.

 

“I don’t know! I swear to God!” the man stammered.

 

“Was it Daniel Sivakumar?”

 

“No!”

 

“Is that the truth?”

 

“It is. I swear on you. It is the truth.”

 

“Say it again.”

 

“What?”

 

“WAS DANIEL SIVAKUMAR THE ANGEL AT TIGER HILL?”

 

“NO HE WAS NOT! I SWEAR!” the man was shivering now. Aaron knew that it was more than just the undulations on the uneven road. It was 5 now and the sun had already set. The mist had begun to set in and it was making it difficult for him to see.

 

“Swear to her.” Aaron said calmly, dropping the loud, grating psycho vibe that he was going for.

 

The man turned around to see Julia, nestled in the third row, comfortably holding a microphone. The car came to an abrupt halt as the engine was turned off and Aaron stepped out. He needed to stretch himself. His leg was cramping up because of all the action over the past few days.

 

The only thing Julia could hear was the panicked painting of an old man who had defiled the memory and name of her father in front of the people of the town. She had lost everything. Everything she ever had because of the greed of one man. She was unwilling to let that go.

 

“Why? Why did you frame my father?” she asked calmly, nicely. You could even call it a threat, if you were paying attention to her face. Julia asked her question again, her voice filled with hurt. The fat man was silent and this sent Julia into a tizz. She creaked open the door and stepped out, walking over to the shotgun seat.

 

“I asked you a question.”

 

The silence that followed was broken by the tight slap she delivered to his face. No nonsense. Just rage.

 

“For the money!” The man said pleadingly. “I did it for the money! I really needed it. I am so sorry. Please just let me go!”

 

“Who gave you the money to frame my father?” the nasty edge in her voice was back.

 

“Please don’t tell anyone. If they find out I told you, they will kill me”.

 

Another slap. The woman was on a roll and she was unstoppable. She kept slapping him again and again until he raised his hands to defend himself.

 

“Please no more! I will tell you! I will tell you who it was. Please don’t hurt me!”

 

“Tell me.” Julia said, her voice returning to the sweet conversational range.

 

The man hesitated a lot before opening his mouth. Julia was very convincing with her hand, locked and loaded for another slap marathon.

 

“It was Satyanarayan.” The man said.

 

Julia stared at him.

 

“Why?”

 

“I don;t know-”

 

The poor man barely got the words out of his mouth before Julia balled up her fist and started punching his nose. This must have incited some deep seated insecurity that was lying dormant for too long. Dr D’ Souza decided to be the brightest man in the world and try and punch Julia. That was probably the last thing he did with his own free will that night.

 

Julia managed to grab her assailant by the arm and drag him out of the car window, nearly breaking his arm. Before the man could scream out in pain, Julia settled her knees down on his mouth and punched at the man’s temple thrice. As he teetered on the edge of being knocked out, Julia did a neat little geometry trick. SHe grabbed the man’s left wrist and made it do a full 180 degree twist. This brought the screamer back who was swiftly greeted with another set of punches. This continued before Aaron decided to step in and have some mercy on the old goat.

Aaron was not surprised by how strong Julia was. He had to use nearly everything he had left in his body to drag him away from the pitiable mush on the floor that used to be Dr D’ Souza.

 

Julia stood up, exhaled very loudly.

 

“Why did he pay you to frame my father?” To be honest, the answer was painfully obvious. It was a s clear as day to her that her father was murdered by Satyanarayan now. It was a truth she had wanted to accept from yesterday. This would be the proof that she would finally need to channel her hatred.

 

“He said….. he was involved in that situation…… and that he needed to get out.” the disgraced Dr D’ Souza managed to speak through the blood in his mouth. He really did not want an encore of Julia’s own rendition of the Incredible Hulk.

 

Julia stood up.

 

“You got all of that on tape, Julia?” Aaron asked, trying to be comforting. Her silent nod was punctuated with an air of pain and rage. Aaron turned his attention back to the dazed old man, bleeding from all orifices on the ground.

 

“Alright little piggy. Run along now.”

 

“What?”

 

“Go home. It’s that way about 5 kilometers. Told you you would reach by 6:30” Aaon said, winking at him and pointing somewhere Northwest.. The man tried his best to get up. Aaron helped him and he started hobbling along for dear life.

 

“Took his phone?” Julia asked Aaron.

 

“Right as soon as we met.” Aaron smiled.

 

“Good. Let’s go to the hospital.” Julia said.

 

“So Julia, how does closure feel?”

 

“Closure?”

 

“Well, you finally know who killed your father.”

“I will only have closure once he is dead.”

 

“That’s healthy.”

 

“Just shut the hell up and drive, man.”

 

“Yes, Commander.” Aaron said as he got back into the car.

 

As the car pulled away from the tea estate, Aaron couldn’t help but smile to himself. Finally, things were falling into place.