Free Brutal by Uday Satpathy Page B

standing right behind him.
    “This is a ridiculous way of securing a crime scene,” Mrinal said, grinning.
    “I have seen worse things in my life,” Prakash replied. “Now let’s get in.”
    He pushed the doors further in till the chain became taut. The opening was now wide enough to let them in easily. He lifted his right leg over the chain and then his left leg, and made his way inside. Mrinal followed suit.
    Both were greeted by absolute darkness and damp smelling walls. Prakash moved the torch around to take a view of the living room. He saw a small table with two plastic chairs. There was a kitchen to his right and the way to a bedroom to his left. He could smell a faint odour of chemicals in the room. Chemicals used by crime scene investigators.
    “Nothing seems to be of interest here. Let’s get into the bedroom,” Prakash whispered and started walking towards the bedroom. An eerie white chalk sketch on the floor greeted them. It was the outline of the body of the deceased.
    “Holy shit!” Mrinal was taken aback seeing the glowing outline. “I can’t believe I am doing this.”
    Prakash ignored his scared partner. He was a bit unsettled himself. He washed the room with torchlight again. The beam passed over a bed with a crumpled sheet tossed over it. A couple of pillows lay astray over it. At one corner of the room, a wooden cupboard attached to the wall stood partially open.
    He bowed down and pointed the torchlight below the bed. His eyes caught a medium sized metal trunk, which appeared to be opened recently. He hauled it out. Its lock was broken. Seems the police have gone through this also. He pulled the lid. It opened with a shrill metallic creak, which made both of them cringe. In response, Prakash immediately turned off the torch. Let’s hope no one has heard it.
    After a few moments, he turned on the torch again and flashed it inside the trunk. There were a few clothes and some documents. Prakash fixed the torch between his jaws and rummaged through them. There were photocopies of his education certificates. Afroz seemed to be a well-educated man. A copy of his degree certificate put him as a civil engineer. He also found a few packets of empty SIM cards. He passed them to Mrinal.
    “Will the mobile numbers written on these packets be of any help?”
    “I will have to see,” Mrinal said, putting them in his trouser pockets.
    Prakash was busy sifting through the documents, when Mrinal nudged him.
    “Did you just hear that?” Mrinal whispered. He sounded spooked.
    “Hear what?”
    “I heard some movement in the other room.”
    A chill ran down Prakash’s spine. He immediately switched off the torch. Both of them went silent for a moment, trying to listen to any movement. Nothing. They could only hear dogs barking somewhere far away.
    Prakash continued his work. But he was not able to find anything useful. He closed the trunk and shoved it under the bed again. He now pointed the torch towards the cupboard. This is our last hope.
    As he walked towards the cupboard, something started to bother Prakash – a half-formed thought trying to take shape. Probably something, which should have been in this house, but wasn’t there. What is it? What is it? What is it? Come on!
    Getting no answers, he ignored his feelings and looked inside the cupboard. Clothes – both ironed and crumpled lined the racks. There was a drawer too. He opened it. It contained a bike key, a few visiting cards from local shops and a photo frame. He picked the latter. It looked like a recent photo of Afroz, standing with a man. Who are you?
    A cracking sound hit his ears. As if someone had tripped over an obstacle. He flashed his torchlight across the room. Mrinal was not there.
    “Hey, Mrinal. Where are you?” Prakash whispered.
    No reply.
    He walked towards the living room. When he reached the door joining the two rooms, a ghostly figure leaped out of nowhere and gave him a solid jab on his face. Prakash yelped, lights