Free Code Shield by Eric Alagan

office.” He was gone even before Michael could get up.
    Venkat tossed his jacket on the dumbvalet, that stood in the corner behind his desk, and tugged at his tie,
    â€œHow’re you and good god what happened to your face?” He sank heavily into his well-worn leather chair.
    â€œOh, a little misunderstanding,” Michael brushed it off.
    â€œYeah I heard from my friend the Sup,” Venkat leaned back, folded his arms and studied the man seated opposite him. The Sup or superintendent was his former course mate in the Police Academy and now commanding officer of Jurong Land Division. Venkat saw Michael’s quizzical face and answered,
    â€œWe write letters complaining about the police, the police called to say that you’re hanging around car parks waiting to harass their IO. You pushed him, he blocked and you fell.”
    The rotund lawyer whizzed as he spoke, “Though it’s obvious you fell on his knuckles. So, what can I do for you my friend?”
    â€œVenkat, can you help me speak to Diana’s lawyer, ask for some time and I promise to settle the outstanding money.”
    â€œLook, the new lawyer that Diana had engaged is a divorcee herself, a real man-hater. I tried to speak to her, find some amicable solution but she resorts to diatribes, suffers from verbal diarrhoea and insists that every communication be in writing. Something that could be resolved in half an hour is dragging out over weeks and of course, it’s going to cost you both.”
    Seeing his client’s pleading look, Venkat threw up his arms in despair, “Look, what more can I say. I’ll see what I can do. Leave it to me.”
    Venkat leaned forward and his ample stomach pressed against the heavy oak table that dominated his cramped room.
    Three stacks of case files towered on one side of the table, an accidental brush threatening to send them all in a confusion of paper on the floor. Behind Venkat’s chair was an oak bookcase with rows of heavy legal tomes. On a shelf leaned a family portrait of his wife and two smiling children, sporting the prominent nose of their father. Another picture was of a younger and slimmer Venkat in police uniform. There were also several ribbons and medals in a glass box placed at a tilt for effect.
    â€œSo, what’s this about wanting to go to Moscow? You don’t know for sure whether Annette is there. Hell, Mike, you don’t know anyone there, you don’t speak the lingo, you’ve never been there and you don’t have much money,” Venkat counted off his fingers.
    â€œI have to, the police can’t do much and they don’t want to contact Interpol.”
    â€œLook Mike, it’s not like that. Based on the facts, it seems like Annette…well, looks like she took off on her own free will. What’s that, you have some pictures?” Venkat leaned forward.
    Michael spread three glossy prints on the table, all of Annette with a Caucasian man in the airport, evidently taken when they departed the country.
    â€œThis is the man she left with. I’m sure that he had cheated her into following him, made use of her youth and gullibility.”
    â€œYouth…gullibility…Hmm, you obviously don’t know what goes on out there. These look like CCTV grabs, where did you get these photos from?” Venkat raised his hands, “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to be an accessory.”
    â€œThis Ruslan Kashin is not the kind of gorilla my Annette would associate with.”
    â€œGorilla, you say. He seems quite handsome really and they seem pretty intimate,” observed Venkat. “How did you know his name?”
    â€œThe police told me. He must have kidnapped her,” Michael was adamant.
    â€œYour IO’s name is Sergeant Pang? He’s right – the families are usually the last to know,” added the lawyer. “Look, I still keep in touch with my ex colleagues in the force and the