In the fog

COVER STORY

Chapter 4

‘‘Make sure you pay our condolences,’ Maham said, anxiously standing in the gallery. Her warm brown skin had turned ashen ever since the news had reached their house. ‘I have told Sara to make dua and pray a lot. You should also recite Quranic verses as well. Let’s hope this misfortune passes quickly.’

‘Don’t worry, Mahi, it will get better. Just make sure all the doors and windows are properly locked and keep a pocketknife with you at all times,’ Amir said as he pulled on his leather gloves. He had stopped by his home to pick up his gloves and cap and give Sara the basket Sadiq Chacha had sent. Sara had been puzzled when he’d informed them that Sadiq Chacha had insisted on staying in his cabin-like hut while Maham seem to have been expecting this response.

‘I persuaded him as best as I could but he is so stubborn,’ Amir had told them.

‘I suppose he’s right. He can’t make such a long trip down here with his arthritis and poor back. Let’s pray he stays safe there. I should cook extra meals so we can have it sent over to his cabin through our servant boy,’ Maham had said reasonably.

Now she was fiddling with her long dark braid. ‘Just be careful. We don’t want anything to happen to you.’ Maham had reservations about this whole investigation that he and his sister were fixated on. She argued that it was disrespectful and rude to go around suspecting people, spying and invading others’ privacy.

He remembered the argument they had just a few days ago.

‘It isn’t right. The police should be the ones to do this. I know that they can’t come and help us in this weather but still something about this doesn’t feel right’.

‘Look, Maham, I am not the one who is spying or sneaking around and killing people. You’re confusing me with the killer. I respectfully go over to the victim’s house, pay my condolences and with the family’s permission search the house and the crime scene. I ask questions and collect clues. What is wrong with that?’ Amir had asked, exasperated. ‘Is it wrong to want to find the killer and bring him to justice? All I want is the victim’s family to know who did it and why.’

Amir wondered if that really was the reason he was doing this. Maybe some part of him was still grieving for his father, a brave police officer who had been shot dead in a drug raid when Amir had been just fifteen years old. Was he trying to honour his father’s memory by capturing the murderer? Or was it some childish wish to be a hero? Did he want to prove to himself he wasn’t such a failure? Maybe if he had chosen his father’s path and career, he wouldn’t even be stuck in Shadbad staying in his great grandfather’s house, jobless. Amir didn’t want to go down that alley of regret and ponder over his life choices. There was work to be done and he didn’t have time or the patience for self-pity.

Maham leaned against the wall, crossing her arms ‘I thought Shadbad was a peaceful albeit strange place to live and now….’

‘Look, I know things are very disturbing and hard right now. We all feel unsafe and scared.’

‘It’s not that I am scared. I am more worried about your safety. You do realise investigating and playing the detective will cause the killer to target you. He wouldn’t want you to expose them and who knows how far they would go to keep you quiet.’

‘Maham,’ Amir said quietly, ‘I knew the risks when I took this up. I have made my decision and I am not going to draw back from it like a coward when we know this pathetic snake might strike again.’

Then, to break the tension, Amir grinned. ‘Besides, you think I, the handsome Sherlock Holmes with my trusty assistant Watson, can’t crack this case?’

‘Who are you calling Watson?’ an offended voice asked. Amir turned around and saw his sister hurrying towards them, a paper fluttering in her hand.

‘Here,’ she said, holding the paper out to Amir. ‘Ask all these questions. Take pictures and make videos with whatever charging is left on that phone but don’t finish it.’

Amir glanced at the scribbled paper. ‘Any other wishes, master?’

‘I wish I could go with you but it’s so cold outside and my flu,’ she made a face. ‘Just go and come back quickly so we can discuss it. And observe each and every person you meet with utmost attention and ask plenty of questions.’

Amir snorted. ‘So they can throw me out of the house?’ He slid back the latch on the front door and pulled it open. Freezing wind announced its presence. Sara started coughing and backing away, while Maham winced at the sharp jab of winter.

‘I’ll be back before the evening,’ Amir promised as he slipped out of the house, shutting the door behind him with a snap, the farewells of his family lost in the howling chorus of the wind.

Shadbad was a quiet neighbourhood located on a hilltop, a community of people living in the west of the nearest town, Perbai. A single twisting, narrow road climbed up all the way from Perbai to Shadbad; it became especially dangerous and slippery in winters, most inhabitants preferring to travel on foot than risking vehicles or horses.

Winters had always been harsh in this region but this year it seemed as if the cold was even more unforgiving and cruel. December had begun with a blizzard. Heavy snowfall and strong winds had brought down the power lines and poles, blocked the roads and trampled any hope they had to seek help from the town or call for the city’s police.

Perbai was a large town with shops, tourist resorts, hotels, school, clinics and anything that a person needed in daily life. The people of Shadbad would travel the 40-minute distance and buy all the groceries and goods they needed. And, before the start of winter, it was a common practice to buy as much as they could and store it in case bad weather affected them as it did now. Fortunately, Amir had shopped plenty just a few days before the snowfall had blocked the road.

Amir passed the two cottages next to his house. He would’ve thought them abandoned if it weren’t for the smoke rising from the chimney and the sound of a child crying from one of them.

The first cottage belonged to Ahsan. He had a shop in Perbai and his wife was a tailor. They had two small children who, in better days, could be seen running and playing about in the streets.

The next house belonged to Kamran. He was a manager at a hotel in Perbai and mostly stayed there. Luckily, he had escaped being stuck in Shadbad.

Amir was just about to cross Mir Sahab’s house when he saw the dark silhouette of a man coming his way. Amir narrowed his eyes, trying to make out who it was in the fog. It was only when the figure drew closer that Amir recognised it was Zain.

He was dressed finely in a long black coat, his dark hair devoid of a cap. The snow crunched under his black leather boots as he neared the house’s gates. He regarded Amir shrewdly. His face was ghostly pale and emerging from the fog dressed from head to toe in black he almost looked like a phantom.

Amir raised a hand in greeting. Zain halted before the gate. He spared Amir a glance as he drew out a ring of keys. They jangled merrily in the otherwise drab atmosphere.

‘Amir Bhai,’ Zain declared at last as his efforts to ignore Amir proved futile.

‘I suppose you have just come from Rauf’s house? How’s the family?’ Amir got straight to the point.

‘Aren’t you headed over there? I am sure you will find out.’ He twisted the key and a click sounded.

Amir found Zain’s lazy drawl and his way of answering simple questions with riddles and non-answers vexing.

Hiding his annoyance, Amir tried a different question ‘When was the last time you talked to Rauf?’

Zain finally looked at Amir, his dark eyes piercing and unamused. ‘I never had a proper conversation with Rauf Uncle.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What I mean is that he usually gave me advice and warnings not to wander in the snow. He thought I would die from pneumonia or frostbite. Beyond that we didn’t talk.’

Noticing he still hadn’t answered the question, Amir fixed Zain with a piercing look. ‘When was the last time he gave you such advice?’

Zain gave a humourless laugh as he pushed open the small door on the right side to the main gate; the hinges squeaked like frightened mice. ‘Why, it was only yesterday. If I recall correctly, he predicted I would be buried under the snow if I stayed a little while longer outside. He also said something about disobedience and today’s young generation, but I didn’t catch the words.’

Smoothing down his coat with gloved hands, he gave Amir an unsettling smile ‘Well, is your interrogation over?’

‘It is,’ Amir replied through clenched teeth. ‘For now.’

Zain gave him a curt nod and stepped inside the house. The door slammed shut behind him with a metallic clang.

Zain had arrived in Shadbad only a few months ago. He was staying with his aunt and uncle for his long break from studies. After finishing his secondary education from Pakistan, he had gone to Africa on a scholarship. He returned to Islamabad after a few years. Now he planned to pursue some job for which he had to clear some tests first, but had decided to take a long vacation on the hilltops and northern areas for recreation. Zain had always been vague and mysterious. He had to be around Amir’s age, but Amir had little patience for his strange attitude.

Amir continued on his way, the fog like a thick curtain around him, blotting everything out.