Massacrer

By Soumik Halder
 Chapter 1

The prison was silent. Tube lights lit a dark

hallway that spanned for several meters with
cells on either side, some of which were still
being constructed. There was a whiff of paint
and raw iron. Three police officers sauntered
through the narrow passageway that had
cells on either side of it, as the prisoners
stared at them with distaste and lack of
empathy.

Its time for you to go. said an Inspector as

the prisoner inside stood up from his ugly
bed. They unlocked the cell door as the
prisoner walked outside. His eyes met the
eyes of the Chief Inspector who was in his
late 40s. He returned a sympathetic stare at
the prisoner. The whole department was
poignant on that day.
Sir, you must be new here. asked the
prisoner in a mellow voice as he walked with
the Chief Inspector

Yes. replied the Chief Inspector. He did not

know the prisoner. But he knew that he was
a high priority prisoner and a cold-blooded
mass murderer.

After you hang me, will you please promise

me that you will read the few papers that I
have written down while I was in my cell?

I sure will. Lunacy is enjoyable in the

papers. the officer grinned. The prisoner
smiled back.

At the stroke of ten, the prisoner was hung

on charges of brutal mass murder. The Chief
Inspector gathered the papers from the
prisoners cell and took a short stroll down to
the small flower garden that was under
construction to gather a good mood for
enjoying the scripts written by a
psychopathic convict. Following this, he sat
in his office and exhaling a loud gush of air,
he started to read the papers. The first page
had a small note.

This incident that took place two years ago

befuddled everyone in the Crime and Law
department. Many people have died in this
misfortunate catastrophe, but it was the
lunacy of one man that caused this tragedy.
In the following pages, I will present to you
everything that I have figured out about the
disastrous run of events.

Chilly winds and intense fog is a special

feature of the winter in Erinshire, and
occupants on the night streets include some
stray dogs searching for shelter in
comparatively warmer areas, and some
shivering police officers on patrol. The
Central bank is a moderately well-built
compound. With a perimeter of 800 meters
surrounded by high walls and steel traps, it
is the safest keeper of people's money. But
the intruders who had been past the walls
and traps, and towards the vault, had always
been unsuccessful in locating a way that led
to the vault since the only way to enter the
chamber with the vault was through the
main entrance that was very secure. The
entire place was well guarded with ten
armed personnel, with only two senior
officers entrusted with one important key
each to operating two separate gates. One
had the key to the main building, and the
other had the key to the main gate. Cameras
always capture footage of various areas
inside the bank. All doors and windows in the
main building stay shut at night.

Two guards hired to check trespassers were

stationed in a small cabin by a big artistic
iron gate that led to the interior compound of
the bank through a narrow way. "Let me take
you down, 'cause I'm going to Strawberry
Fields. Nothing is real and nothing to get
hung about. Strawberry Fields forever.
Living is easy with eyes closed,
misunderstanding all you see. It's getting
hard to be someone but it all works out, it
doesn't matter much to me -" played the
radio as the two guards in the cabin nodded
their heads in the rhythm.

It is pretty cold. Want to grab some beer?

asked the elder guard. He was in his late 50s
and had wrinkles on his face. Despite being
old, his body was very well built and he
looked like a hunk. He was one of the senior
officers who kept the key to the Iron Gate.

Naah. replied the other. He had a faint

Russian accent. This isnt the time for beer,
mate. This weather reminds me of my uncle.
He was a Russian soldier who suffered a
tragic death. But he was very fond of vodka.
Vodka used to keep him from numbness.
Cold weather certainly calls for hard
drinks.

I have some vodka in my pouch. Wait. Let

me get some.

Sure, buddy.

It was dark and the fog hindered any source

of light. While searching for vodka, he
hesitated. Only one bottle remained and it
might not be enough. There were six bottles
of beer under a table that did not need a
freezer to stay cold. He eyed the bottles of
beer and pulled the vodka from his pouch
with a mild grin.

There you go, mate. Saying, he handed

over the bottle to his partner who barely
managed to crack the seal with his fingers.
Gulping the strong drink, he let out a squeal
of happy intoxication. He passed the bottle to
his mate who smoothly poured nearly half
the liquor down his throat.
Last year I had experienced tougher
climates while I sat in here all by myself.
Thanks to the robbers who tried to enter the
compound recently that the bank decided to
increase security and stationed you in here.
Sitting here all by myself all night is too
monotonous. the senior officer spoke as the
Russian nodded his head.

In a few minutes, the bottle was empty. The

night grew more intense and breezy.
Drunkenness had seeped into them when
there was a loud bang at the Iron Gate as if
someone hurled down a huge rock at it. A
vibration echoed all over the metal piece.

What was that?

I dont know. replied the Russian guard. He

quickly turned off the radio.

Both of them stood up from their wooden

chairs, grabbed their torches from the table,
and sprayed the light towards the dark Iron
Gate. They were well armed with pistols and
had cordless phones to communicate with
other guards. Besides, there was a one tap
alarm switch located inside the cabin for
extended awareness.

Nothing. said one of them. Both men

stepped out of the cabin to get a closer look
at what caused the grotesquely strange
sound. Chances for a distinct vision were
impossible, but the men kept looking.

There is nothing here.

Lets go inside.

Both of them withdrew to their cabin.

Want to have some beer?

Sure, mate.

They grabbed a bottle each and unsealed the

cap with their teeth.

Cheers.
They swallowed the chilled alcohol with ease
when Bang, the gate roared again. The
momentary shock relapsed. Thudding their
bottles on the wooden table, they rushed to
the gate with their torches.

Who is there? There was no reply.

Nothingness in darkness is more frightening

than the most bizarre sights. Staring blankly
at each other searching for answers to the
sudden riddle puzzling them for a while,
their alcoholic high disappeared.

What should we do?

Call Peter on his cell phone.

The Russian dialled a speed dial number on

his wireless phone. Repeated beeps rang out
loud off the speaker until the call
disconnected. He tried again, the response
being the same.

Something is terribly wrong.

We should turn on the alarm.

Without further delay, the alarm was raised.

A loud squealing siren with a minor vibrato
spread across the entire compound. The
narrow way that led to the gate of the main
building was filled with greenery on either
side. Light from multiple tall sodium vapour
lamps that stood by the passage brightened
the area with an orange tint. The main
building was a grand marble structure with a
dome shaped roof held by thick pillars. Two
seated lions carved out of the same stone sat
on either side of the porch that opened up to
the narrow way through a dozen stairs.

The whole place was deserted except for the

guards in the cabin. They expected some
response to the alarm that they had raised,
but there were none. Suddenly, the siren
began to die out. The lamps began to blink
repeatedly until it went off along with the
siren as if someone had zapped out life from
them. Stillness prevailed as anxiety rose to a
new extent. The special blend of warm blood
and a foggy nightmare ran chills through
their spine. Insecurity wasnt the topic to
bother about. The men werent afraid to die.
But the unduly prolonged panic that had
crept in was too frightening.

Look. the Russian guard pointed out to the

main building. The door opened slowly
revealing its interior. A yellow trail of light
from inside lit the anterior area.

Oh my God! shouted both of them in

unison. Eight men, each with their feet tied
to a thick rope hung upside down from the
ceiling. They had no heads and blood from
their neck fell like tiny showers. Their bodies
had the common sky shaded uniform stained
in blood. Without another word from their
trembling lips, the two guards ran straight to
the main door with pistols in their hand,
trying to escape from the land of the dead.
The senior officer pulled out a key from his
waist pocket and inserted it in the huge lock
when a slash from behind chiselled his
throat. The blade kept running deeper until
the senior officer stopped protesting. With a
severed head in his hand held by the hair,
the Russian man let out a loud shout of
malevolent laughter that echoed in the whole
compound. It was time for him to achieve
something that had never been done before.
There was no time to waste. He threw away
the dead and unlocked the huge iron door.
 Chapter 2

The phone rang for the third time.

Inspector Roger has already left for duty.

He will be there in ten minutes. replied his
wife.

The police station was busy with a dozen

desks researching on the possible clues that
led to the terrible incident that had occurred
last night.

Sir, we have our forensic team working on

the dead bodies.

Sir, the mayor wants to talk to you.

Sir, the confirmed figure is fifty million.

As a Chief Inspector, his job wasnt relaxing.

A Hundred voices raising opinions, facts,
innuendos, and operation proceedings
flooded his ears each time. Chief Inspector
Gomez had his own room, but there was no
time for privacy now. The world demanded
answers on the biggest heist in the most
secure bank on Earth. The police were lucky
that no trespassers were allowed near the
place since morning, and the media could
not capture any image of the hanging dead
bodies. But information such as these does
not stay private for long.

Inspector Rogers, a tall, fair guy with a

French cut beard and a sharp face, rushed in
through the crowd of Inspectors gathered
around Gomezs office. He was slim and his
hair had a neat back brush. With fiery eyes
to be afraid of, he was a short-tempered guy
and could thrash anyone whom he would feel
guilty. Despite his devil may care attitude, he
had the brain of an octopus.

Vacate my room, now! shouted Gomez.

Roger, stay here.

Everyone left the room except Roger.

What is the matter? Roger stared anxiously
at Gomezs eyes.

The Central Bank got robbed.

Roger grinned. You must be kidding.

No. And it is not only about the fifty million

that they stole. There is more.

Gomez pulled out his drawer and threw some

pictures on his desk. Roger stared at them
with astonishment. Eight bodies hung upside
down from the roof of the building with thick
ropes drenched in blood. Blood from the
headless necks fell in drops on the stained
marble floor. He turned to the next picture.

Thats the vault. said Gomez.

Oh God, replied Roger. There was no

money in the vault, but eight severed heads
kept haphazardly.

Besides the eight that you see, there was a

Russian named Vladimir and another senior
officer. Both of them are missing since then.
They were stationed at the entrance cabin
for night duty. The Russian named Vladimir
has no record. No picture too. The other
officer, Samuel has been tracked down. His
house is close to the Park. He lives with two
daughters and a wife, and no one knows
anything about his whereabouts since
yesterday. Meanwhile, the forensic
department claims that each of the people
inside the building had a high dosage of a
specific liquid drug, good enough to cause a
blackout for those not used to such high
amounts, making it easy for the lunatics.
How all this was performed is still under
proper investigation.

So what do you want me to do?

Our team has the address of Vladimir. We

cross referenced it from the banks employee
document and his bank account. You
certainly do not expect our suspect to be in
there. But I still want you to drive by the
place with Somerset and see if you can find
any important clues.

Sir! Roger returned a respectful attention

posture with a nod and turned away.

Roger, be careful. added Gomez.

Houses of lunatics are not safe places to

breach into. They may have all types of
unkind traps.

A shining red Land Rover halted in front of

an isolated house with a small garden
terrace. The house was white and had a
wooden chair on its shaded porch. A few
shrubs and lilies covered the realm. One side
of the house opened up to a stretch of thick
shrubs followed by farmlands, and the other
side had a forest. The closest possible living
neighbour could have been by a windmill
which was about a mile away towards the
farmlands. Roger and Somerset stepped out
of the car. Somerset was an aspiring police
Inspector. Despite being a young officer in
his early thirties, he had a lot of experience
at field work. He was among the Black Ops
agents who infiltrated terrorist camps. With
a rifle he was unbeatable. Always aware of
his surroundings, he had a vision and
conscience unmatched to anyone in the
whole police department. Shortly after the
agency was decommissioned, Somerset
joined the police force.

Are you sure that there is nothing inside?

asked Somerset.

Look. Roger pointed to the attic. Through

two white curtains on either side of a sealed
glass window, there was a face staring at the
intruders. A faint but unwelcoming smile
greeted the guests. His stare was stern and
he did not move his eyelids from the
Inspectors.
Roger and Somerset walked towards the
door of the house. It was sealed from inside.
They eyed each other.

Lets break in. said Roger.

Yes.

Both of them pulled out their guns, rushed

towards the door and laid their weight on it
bashing it open with a minor crack.

Police. Freeze. Freeze. they shouted.

To their surprise, it was an empty house.

There was no furniture. It was just a blank
space with nothing inside. The wooden
windows were shut. Roger rushed to the
stair that led upstairs. Somerset followed.
The attic was not locked. Roger opened the
door by its knob. The man was still seated
quietly with his face facing the windowpane.
He was wearing a sky coloured shirt, visible
through the wooden frame of his chair. The
radio played Ticking away, the moments
that make up a dull day-.

Sir.

Shh. Roger shushed. He walked towards

the man. The man did not move. Roger
pushed his shoulder from behind, and the
head fell off from where it was. Both of them
jerked in shock as their skin cried out
through Goosebumps.

He must be one of the guards from the

bank. saying, Roger unbuttoned two buttons
from the top of his shirt. Nobody. It is just a
cloth hanger on a well-balanced stick holding
a fake head upon fake shoulders. Call Gomez
and tell him that we have found nothing in
here. Ask him to send forensics too. There
might be some clue if this was done anytime
soon.
 Chapter 3

Next stop is Euler Park. announced the bus

conductor on a microphone. Being 8 at night,
the bus was empty with very few passengers
on it. From the end seat, a tall and fair man
with a large briefcase stood up. He walked to
the gate. The conductor returned a smile as
the man asked him to halt the bus in front of
the park in a Russian accent. His clothes
were roughly worn. There was no smile on
his round, sweaty face. With a jerk, the bus
halted.

Euler Park has a huge lake in its heart

surrounded by small compartment shaped
lawns with the seats laid close to the
perimeter of the lake. Being a clean and cold
place with no hustle from the busy streets, it
is an ideal place for romance and picnic. But
since the park is huge, many children nearby
would flock in at times for physical activities
and games. There are a few guards who
patrol the area to make sure that the place
stays safe.

Walk towards the volleyball pits and sit on

one of the bleachers. was the instruction
given to him. His eyes gazed the whole place
and he could see three volleyball nets with
two common bleachers but on the other side
of the lake. He had to traverse an arc around
the perimeter of the lake to reach his
destination. Without any delay, he walked
through the shallow fog. Strong cold winds
flew at regular intervals. No one was around
except for a few guards whom he had met on
his way. He decided to sit on the bottom
corner seat of a bleacher that had the least
visibility under darkness and wiped his
sweaty forehead with a blue handkerchief. A
chill from the cold bare seat shivered him.
Memories from last night flashed back
repeatedly on his mind. The murders that he
had done were terrifying and culpable. And
here he was, to meet his instructor, a man
about whom he knew nothing. No face. No
name. He crossed his fingers and rested his
elbows on his thighs. Resting his forehead on
clenched fingers, he closed his eyes and
started murmuring the only prayer he knew.

God save the Tsar. said the coldest shrill

voice one has ever heard. Vladimir turned to
his right and a tall man wearing a dark suit
that covered him from neck to toe was
seated right next to him. He wore a round
neat hat with a flat top. Due to lack of light,
one could barely see his face, but his teeth
were fair and uneven.

Sir, said the stunned Vladimir in a fast

pace. He had woken up from nightmare to an
even more frightening raspy voice. I have
done what you have asked me to do, and
here is your money. Vladimir pointed to the
briefcase on the seat.

Good job. Now go to your home and rest

tonight. You will receive your reward soon.
Vladimir would have loved to receive his
price right there so that he could flee from
this place that haunted him, but he knew
that questioning this man would be harder
than he could ever imagine. With eyes set on
the ground in front of him, he decided to
walk away silently.

The next morning, two teenage girls came to

play in the park. They had the typical signs
of late puberty. Wearing cropped white tee
shirts and hot pants, they were there for
their regular morning practice session. One
had a ball in her hand. And the other carried
a backpack, which she rested on a bleacher
seat, and pulled out two white towels and
two bottles filled with water.

Warm up is necessary before any game. They

started jogging around the park as they
usually do. Although there was lesser fog
than at night, a shady atmosphere prevailed.
Tall trees filled with chirruping birds made
darker spots. A few flowers grew around the
park, mostly dried up due to the harsh
winter. The Sun was up, but its fierceness
was nonexistent.

After completing two rounds, the girls

started stretching their muscles gathering
higher adrenaline. They wiped off their
sweat from their body and drank some water.

Hey, check this. Nike! One of the girls

lifted a ball that lay under the seat where
they kept their belongings. There was a
white tick on the ball. Want to play with
this?

Certainly. replied the other girl. The ball

had a distinct neatly knitted stitch all around
it. One of the girls served the ball for the
other standing on the other side of the net to
reply. The other girl responded with a loud
punch on the ball. Before the ball could
cover the net and reach the server who was
eagerly waiting to respond with a thrash, the
stitch on the ball tore. The balls coat came
off as something from inside gushed out to
the hand of the fervent server who was
shocked.

Aaaah!! there was a loud scream. A

severed human head smeared in blood fell
into the hands of the young girl.

The guards close to the pitch rushed to the

spot.

Call the police. Now! shouted one of the

guards as he tried to calm the traumatised
girls who were on their knees, crying out
loud in fear and shock of the most
astonishing devilish experience they ever
had.

Sir, both the head and the body belong to a

Russian named Vladimir. reported the
scientist in his forensic lab as the tensed
Gomez, Somerset and Roger stared at him.
The Park was sealed since morning, and by
evening the police had found the rest of the
body. A red patch of water with a foul smell
was a clear indication of blood from the body.
By night the police expected answers from
the forensic department investigating the
severed head and the bloated body.

The time of death would be around 9 pm

yesterday night. The mark on his neck shows
that the wound was made in one strike.
Whoever did this is much neater than the
one who murdered the guards inside the
bank. No evidence left by the murderer.

There you go, replied Roger. What I

feared the most.

Evil is on the loose, added Gomez. Much

more is in store for us.

And there is nothing that we can do now.

Somerset sighed.
 Chapter 4

The Curse sailed through merciless stormy

waters, surging in the rising swell, with its
sharp breakwater cutting the violent
currents hindering its acceleration. Water
rose upwards from the feet of the ship,
covering the beams on either side, lashing its
influence on to the upper deck. A fifty feet
tall structure made to hold tonnes of cargo in
its body struggled to keep up with the
promising storm. The flagpole on its head
struggled to stay erect as the waving red flag
with a white cross in it waved horrendously.
The occupants had moved to the interior
compound locking them in safety from the
storm. Although there were berths for each
person on the ship, they were all gathered in
the common room drinking wine and meat to
keep them warm from the chill. The round
windows on either side of the common room
gave a clear vision of the surroundings. It
was right below the upper deck. Loud
lashing of water on the window sills
accompanied with occasional thunder
lightning scared the whole crew. But the man
in the pilot room was a beast. He had been
sailing for thirty-five years and this weather
was a treat to him. Dense fog, intense
weather, shaky radars, and water nearly
swallowing the massive cargo ship did not
worry Jack. He could commandeer the
lightest of ships in the worst sea storms
without a shipwreck, and this time it was just
a thousand tonne metal bodied vessel. As a
heavy drinker, his memory was somewhat
weak. Although being a successful sailor,
most of his experiences in hard waters were
lost with rum.

Sir, the water is too loud. said one of the

men in the common room. The Captain was
drunk like he always used to be. He had long
blonde hair that fell across his shoulders.
Smooth cheeks and a deep and vibrant
wrinkled forehead showed that he was an
ageing man with deep thoughts. He rarely
shared any of his private distress with
anyone. No one in his crew knew about his
whereabouts outside the ship or the yard.

The crack may get wet if there is any

leakage. the man added.

Bring them to the common room and seal

the wooden caskets. replied the Captain
with eyes fixed at the window pane across
the table in front of him.

The obedient bulky men followed the

Captains order. Little wooden crates with
openings showed sealed packets containing
a white substance. Crack or cocaine is a
widely used drug in most parts of the world.
They are often illegally smuggled to
restricted areas like Erinshire. And The
Curse transported drugs in bulk for dealers
who work in these areas.
Fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-
four, fifty-five. All in. counted one of the
men followed by a look at the Captain who
did not bother to respond. His eyes stayed
still watching the storm outside the window
and his right hand held a glass half filled
with wine. This cold, motionless stature often
hurt the morale of his crew. But they had
plenty of food, and freedom to boast upon.
So they were never discontent or angry.

Five more miles to the shore. announced

the microphone from the pilots cockpit. The
men looked satisfied, but the Captain still
stared outside the window, his eyes gazing at
the fierce thunderstorm.

Suddenly a man showed up right outside the

window in front of the Captain. He was
wearing a yellow raincoat. Standing firm by
gripping a steel rim around the window sill,
he wiped the glass with a towel as the
Captain watched anxiously without moving
his eyes. Throwing the towel away, he used a
blue Marker to write Burn in hell. With an
evil smile on his wet face, barely visible from
inside the glass, he disappeared. The Captain
remained cold in drunkenness and did not
panic. He turned backwards to see that his
men were coughing in a dense fog of smoke
that had gathered in the room. The crates of
crack were burning and someone had
dropped wine on it in hopes of putting it off,
thus triggering a bigger fire. Men were
gathered in flocks close to the exit door
trying to open it, but to their dismay, it was
locked from outside. Window sills could not
be broken with anything they could find.

One mile to the shore. the microphone

announced again. The voice did not fall on
sane listeners.

What the hell is happening there?

exclaimed the controller as he looked
through his binoculars from his room that
stood by the shore. A severed head hung
from the flagpole of The Curse. Dense white
fumes spurting out of its rooms muddled up
with the early morning fog in the air. The
Curse rushed towards the shore without any
sign of braking. Crashing into the wooden
bay that extended from the shore the huge
cabin ship continued its motion, striking the
shore with a velocity that it had on deep
waters, crevassing the land on its way.

Hello, Sir. I am Inspector Colin Hughes. I

was on duty nearby and arrived here as fast
as I could. Fire brigades are trying to
extinguish the fire, but the fumes are too
toxic. an officer reported to Inspector
Somerset who rushed into the scene after he
heard about the crimes that were committed
in the ship. The men inside the ship choked
to death. There is a high possibility that they
were high on cocaine.

Both of the officers walked on the ship that

had gathered several bruises all over.
The men were in there Sir. the officer
pointed out at the door to the common room.
It was open and most of the smoke had
escaped. Bodies were moved to the hospital
for any possible chance of recovery, but
everything else was intact. Holding
handkerchiefs on their nose, the men
entered the room. The whole crew gathered
in the common room. They moved the entire
crack from the main cargo chamber to over
here, most possibly in fear that they would
get wet. The crack caught fire and someone
poured wine instead of water that facilitated
the fire.

Somerset knelt down to gaze the crates in

search of any evidence. After careful
inspection, he found nothing.

And there is this marking ov.er here. added

the Inspector.

Burn in hell. Somerset read out the writing

on the glass.
How did he write this? he asked.

Well, we found a marker on the ship which

he must have used for writing this. There is
nothing in the other chambers. We have
searched them thoroughly. Let us move to
the cockpit, Sir.

Somerset stepped out of the cabin. Gomez

who stood close to the cabin waved at him.

I want the file of every crew member that

stepped on this boat, Gomez ordered the
police officer beside him.

Somerset entered the cabin. The sailors

headless body lay on the blood-stained floor.
Good Lord!

Yes, it is quite a scene in here. We found his

head tied to the flagpole that apparently
broke off after the ship crashed. The
controller saw this first through his
binocular.
So, what do you think Officer? What could
have happened in here? Somerset asked the
officer, unwilling to hear anything more from
him.

Someone in the crew burnt the crack,

locked the other men inside, and walked to
the cockpit. He then cut the sailors throat
and escaped using a lifeboat that is missing.
replied the officer.

No, I asked why? Why would someone do

this?

Probably out of revenge, Sir. Drug dealers

have intense competition with no mercy for
their rivals. They can go to huge extents to
gain a monopoly of their own brand, Sir.

Thank you, Officer.

It is my pleasure, Sir. The officer nodded

and both of them left the ship.
 Chapter 5

Who is the murderer, Gomez? asked the

Prime Minister as he and Gomez shared a
table. The Ministers Office was well
decorated in a supreme architectural
fashion. His table had a few books, an
ashtray with several burnt cigar butts, a
computer and a mobile phone. The room had
several shelves with important files. The wall
behind the minister had beautifully framed
pictures of his predecessors with notes
underneath them along with the time period
of their regime.

We are onto finding him Sir, replied Gomez

locking the mobile phone that he was typing
in for so long, followed by loosening his tie to
a more comfortable status. His family was of
Nigerian origin. Despite being a tall, dark
guy in his late 50s, his distinctly visible
muscular features, a French cut beard, and
neatly trimmed dark hair made him look
more attractive than most young men.

Come on Gomez. I remember when we both

shared the same dress and solved numerous
crime puzzles. For thirty years, we have
never ever failed a single case against the
law. Why cant we catch this lunatic? I have
heard that you guys have no clue whatsoever
on this mysterious man.

That would be true.

I have asked the Special Investigation Force

to look into this matter.

Sir, we have some good able officers in our

department. protested Gomez.

That is not good enough, Gomez. I need

answers before this man kills a new bunch of
men.

Yes Sir. replied Gomez.

Ask your officers to cooperate with SIF.

I will do Sir. Gomez nodded.

A man rushed into the chamber and

whispered some words to the Minister as his
scowl started to intensify. Before the man
could finish, he stood up hastily on his feet.

Come with me, Gomez.

The three men walked out of the office room

and stepped inside a bigger workplace with
officers working on computers. A large LCD
screen with several audio channels on either
of it hung from the wall. The room was
sealed and soundproof with no open
windows and an automatic electronic door.
The three men grabbed a seat on well-
cushioned chairs as lights in the entire room
shut off. Everyone stared at the huge screen
apprehensively that featured a man wearing
a mask with the Prime Ministers face drawn
on it.

Hello, citizens. I am your Prime Minister

Conan. the man spoke in a light nasal voice,
with a composed and confident overtone. I
am the man who killed those men in Central
Bank and on the ship named The Curse. It
was - fun, ha-ha. Umm two hours later, I
will present to you - a video that I want the
whole world to watch carefully. The video
will show you the men who run your world.
Ha-ha.

The video stopped.

What is this some kind of prank? asked the

Prime Minister.

We dont think so Sir. replied his lady

assistant. This might be true. Our whole
cabinet is missing since today morning.

What? Minister Conan responded in shock.

All our cabinet ministers are missing since

today morning. No minister is in their house
or their office. The Parliament is empty.

How did this happen? shouted Minister

Conan with a raspy voice. Do we have a
bunch of kids in our ministry who get lured
by a kidnapper? How did the whole ministry
disappear at once?

Well Sir, we have a hypothesis that all of

them received a phone call from this man
and they left to somewhere we do not know
yet.

Well then get to know already.

Our team is tracking the phone calls made

to them and also the cell phones that the
ministers carry with them all the time.
However, we could not find any trace of their
cell phones. We believe that they were taken
off from them and destroyed. Tracing the
phone calls made by our suspect would be
the only approach left for now.

Well get it done already, Conan shouted

again. His face was red with terror. Gomez,
talk to your men. We may need their help.
Yes Sir. replied Gomez who was engaged
with his cell phone.

Is the video on the Internet?

That is where we received it, Sir. We have

asked Google to take it down and they are
complying. They have also run checks on the
anonymous uploaders IP address. However,
on tracing it, it gives us your office IP.

What?

There was a brief pause as the Minister

slowly digested all this information. How
much longer do we have to wait until the
next video pops up?

According to the time predicted it is already

on air. We are searching for it.

Sir, we have got it. said one of the men

sitting in front of a computer.

Put it on the big screen. ordered the

blonde lady. She was in her late 30s, was
tough, and although she wore makeup, her
skin was smooth like silk.

Hello again. the lunatic featured on the

screen with the same mask on. He stood in
front of a caged frame that seemed hollow.
Let us meet our cabinet ministers. With a
big smile on his face, he moved the camera
sideways as the speakers screeched. The
camera lens captured footage of a room
inside the cage. The room was at a level
lower than the level of the floor where the
lunatic stood. The ministers stood naked,
nearly stuck to each other since the room
was very small to hold all the sixty-four of
them. There was water up to their knees.
Hey bastards, my bitches, look up here and
smile. Wave at your country Ministers, so
that they know that you are alive and are not
dolls. Hahaha. the lunatic ordered as the
men did not seem to respond. Turning the
camera to him, the lunatic added, Oh wait,
friends, I have got a good surprise for you to
make these dead men look alive. He pulled
a big handle switch and turned the camera
towards the Ministers. Hahaha He kept
laughing insanely at the top of his voice as
the men and women inside the caged
chamber started screaming and shaking
heavily in the limited space they had for
themselves. Well, I must stop the electric
circus for now, saying he turned off the
switch as he struggled to end his laughter.
You must be curious why they are here, and
why not? They run your country. In two
hours from now, I will come up with a
footage that will show you exactly why they
are here. So long buddies. Lets make this
show a bit overwhelming. The video
snapped.

Oh dear God. Minister Conan broke off.

Why is he even doing this?

Sir, these are psychopaths. Apparently, they

have no reason behind their deeds.
Well, I dont care. You get that Anne?
Conan burst out in anger. Find him. Use all
the men we have before we lose our whole
Parliament.

The room went busy with people working

rigorously on their computers.

Maam, I ran checks on places showing

similarity with the video footage. a man
announced what he read from his computer,
as he caught the attention of everyone inside
the room. It is an abandoned Fort to the
East of Denver Hill. And this looks like a cell
used by King Edward to punish crime-doers
by throwing them to saltwater croc-
crocodiles.

How long will it take to assemble a team of

able men? asked Gomez.

The team is ready. They are waiting for

coordinates, replied Anne.
Well give it to them already, shouted
Conan. Ask them to carry heavy weapons
and take no chances.

Yes, Sir. Anne dialled on his phone. Hey

listen, I am texting you the coordinates. Fly
three choppers with the best men we have.
Your mission is to find the ministers. You are
free to fire at will on anyone who protests.
Stick a camera with a mission commander.
Leave now.

Sir, they are on their way, Anne said to

Conan.

Conan, calm down. We will find him.

Gomez patted on Conans shoulder as the
worried leader nodded in reciprocation.

Sir, our team is three minutes away from

the Fortress, informed Anne. But it is
already time for the third video.

Conan did not reply.

Play the video on the screen, Anne
instructed a man on a computer.

Come, sit over here. called a strong harsh

voice. The video showed a small room with
an iron door separating the other ministers
inside a chamber. This room was at a level
higher from the chamber with steps in
between. A bald man limped in as he entered
the room and somehow managed to sit on a
wooden chair in front of the camera. His
hands were tied behind his back. Everyone in
Erinshire knew this man.

Tell them about yourself.

I am Mr Jonathan Dewey. the man wept as

he continued; I am the Minister of External
Affairs.

Tell them why you are here.

Mr Deweys face was red and he was sweaty.

With no clothes on and a wet body, he was
shivering in cold. Continuous electric shocks
through his tough body had made him weak.

Tell them why you are here! his voice

became coarser. Tell them!

I I, the man broke into tears. Help me,

please! Please, someone, help me. I do not
belong in here.

Lal lala lal lala lalalal la. the lunatic sang

in a sweet sarcastic voice as he came in front
of the camera. He was still masked. Putting
his lips very close to Mr Deweys ears, he
whispered a few words as the man broke
completely in a helpless look of desperation.

Five years ago, the Minister cried, I raped

a twenty-year-old girl. I also killed two
judges and blackmailed the third to escape
my verdict. I am very sorry. Please let me go!
Please!
Enough. I am sure that your voters will
want you to be rescued. Get out. Dewey got
up to his feet and limped away. Next.

A tall dark man with a French cut beard and

small trimmed hair entered in a similar
fashion.

Sit. The man followed. Tell us about

yourself.

I am Roberto Pierre. I am the Minister of

Children Welfare.

Tell us why you are here.

I smuggled baby kids out of Erinshire for

money. I also killed thirty-five orphan kids
and buried them in my lawn so that I could
keep the money allotted for their future.

Oh God. Conan fell off his chair and was on

his knees. Stop it.
But Sir- Anne insisted.

I said stop this.

Anne instructed the one playing the video to

pause it.

Is this on air? Conan asked. Anne nodded

in response.

Well then take it off, Conan shouted in

desperation.

It is already on the news Sir. replied a

man.

Sir, our team is on the spot. intruded

another man.

Get their camera feed onscreen, Anne

ordered.

The lights dimmed as the screen showed

army men infiltrating into a compound.

Echo 1 permission to go underground. said

the front man in the team as he progressed
downwards through a narrow dark passage.
The camera was attached to his gun.

Conan waved his hand as Anne answered on

her microphone. Go ahead. Be careful.

Echo 2, this is Echo 1, come in.

Echo 1, this is Echo 2. Go ahead.

It is dark around here. Check for any

possible source of light.

Echo 1, copy. We are looking for the same

out here.

Entering night-vision mode, guys. The

screen turned greenish as the passage finally
turned visible. There were sounds of
movement on water and the sound echoed all
over the silent place.

The men rushed down the passage to enter a

small chamber with a wooden chair.

Oh, Jesus.
What is it, team? Anne asked them on the
microphone.

Look at it yourself.Although the captured

view was dark and green, one could easily
make out the situation in there. Severed
heads were placed in five rows in front of the
cage door. The bodies were inside the
chamber, piled up in blood-stained water.
Suddenly someone turned on the lights and
the bodies began to shake in unison with
blood sprouting out of their necks.

Echo 2, turn off the switch, fast.

Echo 1, Okay.

The situation calmed down.

No sign of the accused. I repeat. No sign of

the accused.

There are around sixty heads. said one of

the men who felt like counting the heads.

Count again. There must be sixty-four.

There are sixty of them.

What is the matter, Echo 1? Anne asked.

Apparently, there are sixty of them out

here.

Look for the others nearby.

Yeah, well there is nowhere else they could

be. But we are still looking for them.

How could the lunatic escape so soon?

Conan asked.

Maybe he filmed these videos several hours

ago, Anne replied.

Send forensics in there, said Gomez. Anne

nodded.

Mr Conan. My men found four of the

ministers. They are alive and in the State
hospital. said Gomez. But the Prime
Minister started fading away. His senses
began to betray him. Everything around him
went blank. Mr Conan. Mr Conan. He
fainted.
 Chapter 6

A small child boy is being dressed by his

mother. Ten o clock and it is time to sleep.
The room is moderately big with a wall clock,
a bookcase, and a childs bed. Someone was
playing the violin next door and his fingers
often fell on wrong notes suggesting a player
in his puberty. The mother lifts up her son
with her hands and playfully throws the child
up in the air.

Gomez! Gomez! The whole world is too

grotesque now for you to rest your eyes.
Gomez. Gomez! Wake up! Gomez opened
his eyes to a sharp shout. SIF director is
here. He wants to talk to you. Look lively.
Somerset was standing at his door. His body
was halfway inside the room.

What does he want to talk about? Gomez

asked.

How would I know?

Okay. Let him in.

The SIF director was a heavily built guy with

a face depicting Chinese origin. Besides
having a clean shaved face, and neatly
combed dark and silky hair, his ears were
big.

Hello, Charles. Gomez greeted the man

who entered the room.

Charles nodded and grabbed a seat across

Gomezs table that was piled up with files on
criminal cases.

Reading serial killers behaviours? Charles

asked in his deep but tender voice.

Yes. Often old puzzles help to solve new

ones.

Psychopathic killings are like opening new

doors every time. Neither have you seen the
door before nor do you know what is behind
it.
Gomez nodded blindly. He was still
recovering from the dream he saw a while
ago.

I saw the video that the psychopath

recorded.

Did you find anything useful? Gomez

returned an anxious look.

Well yes, and no, saying Charles pulled out

some papers from the inner pocket of his
coat and placed them on the table. This is a
picture from the video scene aired by the
lunatic. Notice anything odd?

Gomez stared intently and came up with,

That clearly looks like a police belt. What is
this supposed to mean?

Charles leant forward. I know that you trust

your team and I may be wrong. But this
clearly means something. I mean, it is rare
for someone to get access to police belts and
why would they want to take one anyway.
The killer wearing it raises a slight
possibility that he maybe a cop about which I
am not perfectly sure.

What do you want me to do? asked Gomez.

Let us track your officers for a while. I

promise that they would not get to know
about it.

No, Gomez replied with anger in his eyes.

You guys have done this before and found
nothing but ways to harass my able officers
hurting their morale. I am not going to let
this happen again.

Gomez, you need to think carefully now. Our

state is in Emergency. We have no
Parliament. We are all that the people have
at this moment. Do you really want the
lunatic to keep slaughtering people until
there is no one left to kill?
Gomez stared at Charles small eyes for a
little moment slowly killing his own
hesitation.

Do you know that your eyes are too small to

solve something so big?

So I consider it as a yes.

Gomez nodded again and lit a cigarette with

his fingers fumbling.

Gomez, dont lose your mind. Charles

stood up from his chair. Get some rest. Oh,
and about my eyes. Do not let them fool
you.

With a big smile on his face, Charles left the

room. The door knocked.

Was everything okay back there? asked

Somerset.

Yes. Gomez returned a smile. Just regular

stuff.
Are you doing okay?

Yes.

Well, I found something interesting. Do you

want to take a look at it?

Sure. I will be there in a moment.

Somerset nodded his head and left the room.

What is the matter? Gomez asked

Somerset as he stood by his colleague
checking on a computer.

We searched our database to find out who

sailed on The Curse. We then compared the
list to the ships ledger. It turns out that all
the sailors in the ship were already in our
database as wanted traffickers, except one.
We did not find the body of that man.

Who is he? Gomez stared intently at

Somersets eyes.
Well, his name is Colin Hughes. Remember
the Inspector who showed me around on the
ship? He said that he was the first one to be
there after the incident happened. We
checked where he was stationed at that time
and it was thirty miles away from the docks.
It would have been impossible for him to
reach there.

And his name was on that ledger?

Yes, Sir.

Good. Do we have him yet?

No Sir. But I have tracked him down. He is

in a police precinct nearby.

Good. Ask the precinct to hold him in their

premises with caution. He must not get to
know that we are coming for him. Inform
Roger and prepare a jeep. We are leaving for
him now.

Yes Sir. replied Somerset.

A young officer in his early thirties with a
shallow beard on his round face, sat inside a
small room shaking both his legs
involuntarily without any knowledge as to
why he was there. He wore the usual police
uniform. With a lean body, short height and
barely enough muscle to take on a big man,
Colin Hughes was usually laughed at in his
department. He had been in the force for
seven years but had made zero arrests.
Every time Colin caught a criminal, the
suspect escaped. At other times other
officers would steal his accomplished work,
leaving Colin muted and without any credit.

Gomez and his companions came rushing

towards the room.

You guys stay here, Gomez said. If

anything wrong happens, we would need to
take him out. So be prepared.

Gomez clicked the door open as Colin stood

up.
Stay seated, Mr Colin. Gomez returned a
polite gesture. The room had transparent
glass on one side covering half the wall up to
the roof. The rest of the room was blank.

Colin sat down on his steel chair. Have I

done anything wrong, Sir?

No, Mr Colin. Nothing. Gomez sat opposite

to him with nothing in between them.

Do you remember our friend over there?

Gomez pointed out to the window.

Yes. That is the Inspector whom I showed

around on The Curse the other day.

You are right, Mr Colin. Do you remember

anything from what happened on that day?

Yes I do, Sir, Colin replied staring upwards.

I was travelling close to the docks in my car
when my phone rang and I was informed to
check the docks as soon as I could.
What were you doing close to the docks, Mr
Colin? Your station is thirty-five miles away
from there.

I used my car to drop my friend, Inspector

Doherty Sir. He was drunk and he needed
help.

I see. Okay, Mr Colin. Can you tell me why

your name was there in the ships ledger?

My name was in their ledger? I do not

understand. There must be something
wrong.

Okay, Mr Colin. Thank you for your time,

saying Gomez rushed out of the room.

Take him into premature custody, Gomez

said to Roger. Check on Inspector Doherty
and interrogate him. See if you can find out
where he was that day. Somerset, gather
some more information on this guy.
Meanwhile, I need to go see someone.

Yes, Sir.
 Chapter 7

Roger liked to confront people alone. It gave

him the freedom to burst out in rage. Having
gathered the destined address from the
police files, he drove his Land Rover SUV as
fast as he could to meet Inspector Doherty.
On his journey, he felt like he knew the
address but his memory failed to tell him
more about where he was headed to until he
reached close enough to his destination. He
parked his car outside a white coloured
house with a wooden chair on its porch.

Vladimirs house? Roger whispered to

himself. Rechecking his revolvers barrel, he
stepped out of his car. The place was exactly
same as the last time. His instincts made him
stare up at the window of the houses attic.

What the - before he could say another

word, someone grabbed his forehead from
behind and ran a sharp knife to slid his
throat.

Conan grabbed the cordless microphone as

the moderator handed it down to him.
Thousands of people had gathered in front of
a wooden podium where Conan was
supposed to give his final lecture before
announcing his retirement. A few had
banners in their hands saying, Quitting is
not the Solution, Voted Traitors, etc.

Dear Citizens. a grief voice overruled his

strong nature. We are gathered here today
on this grief-stricken day to commemorate
our friends whom we have lost in the last few
days. It doesn't matter what you are or from
where you belong, as human beings, we have
all been struck by the deeds of someone we
only know as an unlawful lunatic. We do not
know who he is and what he wants. Nor do
we know the ecstasy of death, but we do
know that someday the wrong-doer will get
what he deserves. And we as citizens would
give it to him. As for the government, we
have no able ministers to set up a
Parliament. Therefore, I announce my
resignation as soon as the opposition party is
ready to take over the State. May we find the
peace that we have been searching amidst
the uncontrollable anarchy! Thank you,
everyone.

It was evening and darkness was on the rise.

Dense trees caught up in the fog made the
shoreline quite invisible. The lake was
surrounded by beautiful hills on all sides.
Two fishermen had no luck fishing in the
huge Lake. They were on a motor boat with
no sail but a steering.

You are sick. shouted one of them. I have

told you several times that this lake is not a
good breeding spot. We must go downhill
and try something better.

Trust me. My father used to bait here all

day and return with at least twenty fishes.

Your dad ate away all the fish in his time.

Cant you see? It has been three days and we
have got nothing.

Yes. You are right. We need to explore other

places.

Take the boat to the shore. Let me keep the

bait in water just in case any fish shows up.

They started to drive the boat to the shore.

Hey, shouted the one handling the line,

its big. Slow down.

The boat slowed down as the fisherman with

the fishing rod slowly pulled the line. It
seems heavy, Todd. Our patience may finally
pay off. Turn on the torch.
The fisherman retracted the line as the light
from the torch lit brightly.

Aaah! screamed the fishermen, stunned

and afraid. The hook caught a chopped off
mans head by his ear. The face was full of
blood despite being washed in water.

A small child boy is being dressed by his

mother. Ten o clock and it was time to sleep.
The room was moderately big with a wall
clock, a bookcase, and a childs bed.
Someone was playing the violin next door
and his fingers often fell on wrong notes
suggesting a player in his early days. The
mother lifts up her son with both her hands
and playfully throws the child up in the air.

Gomez! Gomez! Wake up! Gomez opened

his eyes to a sadly toned shout. His table was
messed up with all the items the police had
for studying the series of murders. Some
fishermen found Rogers dead. Somerset
was standing at his door. His body was
halfway inside the room.

What? Roger? How? Gomez was startled.

I know that it is horrifying. We are going

there.

Ready the car. I am coming along too.

I know nothing, Sir. said the frightened

fisherman. Todd and I were fishing here for
three days but we could not find any fish. We
decided to go home and fish somewhere else.
On our way back, our hook caught a mans
head. We had no idea who he was and how it
came. So we called the police.

While you were on your boat, you did not

notice anyone on the shore?

We were busy fishing Sir. And we usually

dont hold on to a single place all day.
Okay then, replied Gomez. He waved them
off.

Torches lit most of the place. Some birds

chirruped in disturbance as the police
searched for the missing body. The nearest
source of light came from a windmill located
at a far away distance, which Somerset
readily recognised.

Sir, I checked the address and this place

seems to be close to the house of Vladimir.
We should take a look around this place.

Well then take a stroll around and look for

clues. Report me anything you can find. I
need to go see Charles.

Yes, Sir.

Hey Richard, Somerset whispered, call

Gomez and inform him that we are close to
Vladimirs house.
Somerset and Richard had followed a narrow
spiral path from the Lake, walking through
tall shrubs in darkness. Occasional sounds
made by night owls and crickets assured
them that they were not alone. Although the
visibility of the path ahead of them was
blocked by trees due to the spiralling way,
Somerset had figured out the location of
Vladimirs house from the windmill. There
was only one trail of a path that led that way
and it was worth a try.

Sir, Inspector Rogers car. Richard pointed

to the Land Rover SUV that became visible
through the shrubs on the path ahead of
them.

That is Vladimirs house across the street,

Somerset replied to Richard. Ready your
gun.

With a revolver in their hand, both men

crouched to get cover behind the SUV.
Somerset could not resist himself from
checking the window in the attic. It was dark
and nothing was properly visible without
external light. Somerset flashed his torch up
at the window. The curtains were drawn.

Come, lets go, Somerset asked Richard.

Both men dawdled towards the house with
light footsteps until they reached the porch.
Hustling of leaves and the occasional singing
of night owls made it difficult for them to
notice any human activity nearby. The door
was locked from inside.

Why is it locked? asked Richard.

Someone has been in here lately, replied

Somerset. We have to bash it open.

Both men stepped back a few feet and then

rushed to bash the door in unison.

Police. Freeze. Freeze. they shouted with

guns held straight, right in front of their
faces.
There is nothing in here, said Richard. The
windows inside the house were open. There
were no curtains and a cold breeze rushed in
from outside.

Ssh. Turn off the lights.

Somerset walked up the stairs to the attic as

Richard followed him. The door was open.
Both of them walked in. Although the
window curtains were drawn, moonlight
seeped in from outside through the little
gaps that carved out a rough shape of the
man seated on a chair. Somerset flashed his
torch at the chair.

Oh no! Richard was frightened. He just

saw something Somerset saw a few days ago
with a minor alteration.

It is Charles. Charles' head rested on a

stick with a police uniform wrapped around
it.

Call Gomez.
Yes Sir. replied Richard.

There was a growing desperation. The killer

had taken the lives of so many people. Now
he was after the defence force and yet the
police had no idea on the suspect.

We need to go, Somerset added.

Both of them walked out of the house to the

car.

We should drive this SUV back to the

station.

Yes. Start the car, said Somerset.

Both of them sat on the front seat and

Richard started the car. With a jerk, the car
started to move. Somerset lit up a cigarette.
The window panes were open and the breeze
played with his soft hair randomly brushing
it backwards.

Hello, gentlemen. A sharp raspy voice

overruled all the sound around them. A
sharp click on a guns barrel was followed by
rapid firing. But being ex-army personnel,
Somerset had an awesome reflex to tackle
such situations. The car began to steer
uncontrollably. Somerset looked behind and
his eyes met the eyes of the devil. Without
any further delay, he reached out to the
nearest thing that he could find. He pulled
out his gun from his waist and shot wherever
his stimuli took him. The bullet hit the devils
hand. Before there could be any more action,
the devil jumped out of the car. Somerset
realised that the car would crash and had no
other choice but to do the same.

With bruises from the jump, Somerset

struggled to stand up on his feet. The dark-
suited mans hat fell a bit farther than where
he rolled, but he had no time to wait.
Somerset got up as fast as he could and fired
a few shots at the devil man who was a few
feet away. But the devil vanished into the
woods by the roadside. Somerset ran on the
road to see where he was headed but he had
already vanished amidst dark greenery. He
picked up the soiled hat that lay on the
ground. There was an explosion a few yards
ahead as the car hit a tree and burst into
flames. But Somersets gaze was fixed upon
the hat searching for any possible clues.
 Chapter 8

A small child boy is being dressed by his

mother. Ten o clock and it was time to sleep.
The room was moderately big with a wall
clock, a bookcase, and a childs bed.
Someone was playing the violin next door
and his fingers often fell on wrong notes
suggesting a player in his early days. The
mother lifts up her son with her hands and
playfully throws the child up in the air. A
violent sound of gunfire mesmerised the
peaceful ambience into anarchy. The child
fell on the bed with his eyes fixed on his
dying mother. Her blood had stained the
child who had no idea about what had just
happened. He stared at the man who now
pointed the gun at him.

Daddy. The man pulled the trigger.

Gomez sat up. The bullet shot that he had

received, hurt him a lot. Being a strong man,
he used a pair of tweezers to pull out the
aimlessly fired bullet from his forehand and
dressed the wound roughly with a bandage.
Minor bruises on his face and back were
hurting but not as much as the bullet wound.
He dozed off from the painkillers that he had
swallowed. His phone had been ringing for
the past hour without any luck.

A faint smell of gunpowder suspended in the

apartment. The shirt and the coat he wore
lay on the floor and had a blood stain on it.
Gomez stood up on his shaky legs and with
his unhurt right hand, pulled up his sully
dress. His hat was lost in the trifle earlier
that night. Before he could do much, there
was a heavy knock at the door. Gomez
limped to reach his briefcase that lay open
on his bed and thrust the clothes inside. He
grabbed a casual shirt and locked the
briefcase. Sliding it down his bed, he rushed
to open the door.
Sir, I just had an encounter with the devil.
Somerset was breathing heavily. He had a
dark hat on his hand.

Really? So how does he look like? Gomez

behaved innocent and spoke in a raspy voice.

Frightening. Somerset seemed baffled.

There was something terribly simple about
the lunacy that he could not decipher. He
stared at Gomezs eyes intently and had a
sudden flashback of the devils eyes. He
shook his head in discomfort

Sir, you have a call. The phone rang loud

amidst the silent atmosphere that prevailed
soon after the call disconnected.

Come in, Gomez said.

Somerset sat on a couch in the living room.

Then the phone rang again and Gomez went
inside to his bedroom to receive the call. The
living room was pretty small and was built
adjacent to a kitchen. Somersets eyes
browsed through the beautiful portraits on
the wall and from the showcase on one
corner started a carpet that lay over the
entire floor. There was blood on the carpet
floor. Somerset was alarmed. He peeked into
the bedroom beside where he was seated.
Gomez was shouting at his phone. He pulled
out his drawer and grabbed a sharp dagger.
Somerset was puzzled. But before Gomez
could return from his call, Somerset scuttled
to the kitchen.

Somerset? Where are you? Gomez had

finished his call and had walked into the
living room. Unable to see Somerset, he
called out loud in a very intimidating tone.
He had a sharp dagger in his hand.
Somerset?

Somerset tried to pull out his service

revolver when his elbow hit a jar of pickle
that fell on the floor and broke. He slithered
in the oil and fell down on with his back on
the broken glass. His revolver slipped from
his hand as he let out a shrill cry of pain.

Ah! Playing dirty games with Daddy?

Gomez walked into the kitchen. It was dark
and the small window that made the houses
anterior visible flushed little moonlight
through the shade of trees.

Do you know why I became a Devil? If I

enjoyed killing people, I would have shot
them dead. But no, I enjoy when they quake
in my hands in pain as I slice their throat. Do
you want to know what I dream of each day?
I dream of killing my wife and child. I shot
them dead in the room beside where we are.
My hands, they did not tremble for once. Nor
have they shaken during any other killing.
You see I created anarchy. I destroyed those
that are responsible for hindering chaos. The
centre of money, drugs, parliament, and
police, all are gone. Erinshire is open for
chaos. And in this mayhem, my friend, you
are the last piece of my unsolvable puzzle.
Somerset gathered some strength to sit up
and fight back but Gomez slammed his boot
on his face. Out of exhaustion, Somerset
breathed in gasps.

The police precinct was baffled. There had

been a heavy explosion in the prison. The
officers inside the adjacent building - the
organisation hall, swayed in as fast as they
could but the nearest they could get was a
few yards away from the prison that was
entirely demolished. Every prisoner and
police officer inside the building was dead.
None of the chief officers received their calls
and they had no idea how to tackle urgency
such as this. The head police department of
the city was in flames.

Police vehicles from the nearest station had

gathered around the house. Loud sirens from
the cars made the place lively. Somerset
blinked his hazy eyes. He was still lying on
the floor, his mouth gagged in blood. Gomez
sat on a chair with his eyes set straight at
Somerset, his head resting on the tall of the
wooden chair. Despite being heavily injured
at multiples areas, Somerset rolled over on
his back and sat up. To his amazement, he
was wearing the black jacket of the devil. His
back was still bleeding from the cuts made
by broken glass. There were a gun and a
sharp blade on the floor right beside him.
Gomez did not blink. A narrow stream of
blood rolled down from the side of his head
that traversed down his naked body. He had
a bandage on his arm. Somerset turned
around to look out of the window. There were
three police cars with sirens blazing. He had
no idea what to do. He limped out of the
kitchen only to find several guns pointed at
him.
Sir, I would like you to put your hands on
your back and behind your head. said one of
the Inspectors.

Another Inspector ran into the kitchen and

announced, Inspector Gomez is dead.

Sir, I am sorry to say this, but I will have to

arrest you. said the Inspector.

Somerset was too tired to speak. But with

blood in his mouth, he fumbled, I am not
guilty. It was Gomez. But the Inspectors did
not listen to him. From what they could see,
the murderer was standing right in front of
them.

I pleaded innocence, but no one listened to

me. They had enough evidence to prove me
wrong. And nor did I have enough reason to
justify myself. So, for the last two years that I
have spent in this prison cell, I spent day and
night thinking and solving each puzzle of the
mysterious chain of events that brought us
here. And that I presented it to you now. It is
time to push the final piece of the jigsaw
puzzle and end this game today. I hope the
world sees me with less hatred than they do.

- Inspector Somerset.

The Chief Inspector was mesmerised. His

skin shivered and gave way to Goosebumps.
From the showcase in his room, he pulled
out the file containing all the reports
pertaining to the incident to tally with the
papers written by Somerset. The reports
were filed against Somerset on every
incident and they were signed by Gomez
before the day he died. His final report
implied that he had just solved the case and
was about to bring in the lunatic into custody
with proper proof. Someone added that he
had succeeded in doing the same and
Gomezs death was nothing but an honorable
tragedy during the hunt of a serial killer. The
Chief Inspector was flummoxed. He rushed
out of his room to the balcony and lit a
cigarette. His eyes were red. A sudden burst
of emotion overruled his strength. A rush of
water in his eyes culminated in shame or
guilt that filled him with utmost remorse, but
he had nothing to do.

Maybe he wouldnt have anything to do if

he knew earlier. Who would believe a man
who was caught in such a circumstance?
said Rogers wife as they sat together
drinking tea in the Office of the Chief
Inspector.

I am proud of Somerset, she added. He

was a brave man throughout his life, good
enough to have solved the tricks played by
Gomez. Although he will always remain a
villain to the eyes of the common people,
those who gets know him truly will honour
the duties that he had performed.