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Read Part 9 - here
Read part 10- here
Read part 11 -here
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Read part 13 -here
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Read part 15 -here
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Read part 18 -here
Read part 19 -here
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‘As well as someone would know a son’s friend, a friend’s son’
‘And that’s about that?’ Khar asked impassively.
‘That is’ Veda amusingly raised an eyebrow ‘about that’.
Khar was unconvinced. He wanted to see through this man’s exterior. Should he just believe everything he’d been hearing since morning? It all seemed to be happening too fast, too cohesively.
If there was a catch he’d have to find it.
‘Majid was to me just a child; Tejan’s best friend and he frequented our house often. For sleepovers and what do you call them?’ he reflected momentarily as if in a deep thought ‘slumber parties’ he recalled and smiled looking at Khar.
‘So you never had any conversation with him regarding anything?’ Khar tried to stress on anything in a way of a hint. If there was anything he had to say then this was the moment, but Veda was a brick wall and refused to fall into any traps.
‘No, nothing whatsoever.’
‘And Jumaid never spoke to you much about his son, seeing how you were close?
Veda didn’t quail under Khar’s gaze and was far better prepared than what Khar would have anticipated, not that he had any reason to otherwise, seeing how everything was technically in order.
There was an alibi, everything checked out and yet there was something entirely constructed about this affair, or so Khar wanted to believe.
‘He sometimes did, as any father would. Not in a way of complaints, but discussion. It’s common knowledge that Majid was a bit of a difficult child, often getting into some problems at school and these did prove to be somewhat toilsome times for Jumaid. But like any father he persevered.’ Veda poured another cupful of tea and picked up a thin peacock coloured shiny cigarette from his cigarette case. ‘And that was pretty much the crux of all matters concerning his son.’ Veda blew out a thin stream of smoke with an air of aloof disinterest.
Khar sincerely hoped that Pavil fared better with his questions at the Welcome Inn.
‘If there’s anything you’d like to add..’
‘Then I know where to find you’ Veda completed his sentence.
‘Then it’s best that you tell me right now because we can’t have you changing your statements every time’ Khar snapped.
Pavil had known about this particular establishment and the peculiar services it offered, that of secrecy and silence but he’d never observed this small hotel at close quarters even though it was situated in city centre, in an unadorned corner shadowed by trees and a large wall with a discreet Entry/Exit sign done in stark blue.
To the uninformed Welcome Inn was a small unembellished building, perhaps a hotel or a guest house that didn’t look like it had seen better days, but the experienced knew this to be a safe house of sorts for adulterers or those unfortunate few who didn’t have any place to conduct their private affairs of the amorous kinds.
Though not exactly derelict, this little hotel was faceless in its structure and such bland veneer did it garb itself in that it would be difficult to locate this edifice the second time around.
Pavil didn’t know what to expect inside. He’d seen enough flophouses crammed with squatters and junkies and near enough hotels with bad reputations, but the fact that this singular place was circumstantially attached to an ongoing investigation made it one of extreme interest and Pavil’s heart raced just a little as he stepped inside and found the interiors to be in close approximation to his expectation.
It had the accurate ambiguous dinginess one would accord any place which concerned itself with clandestine activities and the musty smell from never having seen the daylight in ages was a bonus.
It wasn’t however what one would call dilapidated. The interiors though not opulent weren’t shabby and looked well maintained. The upkeep wasn’t half bad, in fact, if Pavil had only known of this place as a regular hotel, he’d have thought it rather nice.
With these small thoughts, nods and deliberations Pavil found himself standing at the reception.
An unctuous man with his hair parted meticulously in the middle and an embarrassingly thin moustache looked at him with little interest.
‘I’d like some information’ Pavil spoke after some deliberation.
The slight man spoke in an experienced voice, thin as it was ‘The room rates are listed here’ he pointed at a wall beside the reception. ‘If you want it on an hourly basis, then any more than five hours you’ll be charged for a day’ he cleared his throat ‘it’s hotel policy.’
Pavil stared at the receptionist and sighed. He pulled out his wallet and brought out his ID and slowly slid it in front of the thin man and waited for his face to blanch.
It didn’t have the desired effect and Pavil wondered if Khar could have pulled it off better.
The thin receptionist’s voice came out mellower than before. ‘How can I help you, sir.’ He almost cooed.
Much better
‘I’d like some information’ Pavil spoke officiously. He brought out a photograph of Jumaid and placed it on the reception. ‘have you seen this man?’
The receptionist remained tight-lipped.
‘It’s important. If you could please cooperate.’
‘I might have seen him off and on, perhaps’ the receptionist said scrutinizing the photograph.
‘Did you see him on Sunday, November 13th, afternoon?’
‘How specific’ the man smiled and flipped the pages of a small table calendar. ‘Hmm, last month on this every date, I wasn’t here. I started my duty late evening. After nine at night in fact and I can’t say if I saw him that night though it’s impossible to say whom I saw when because’ he slyly winked ‘I see so many people every day’
‘Hmm, so who was here?’
‘The other proprietor. She’s not in today.’ he shrugged.
‘Ah’ Pavil made a disappointed face.
‘But she’ll be in tomorrow’
‘That’s great. Whom have you usually seen this man with?’ Pavil inquired pointing at Jumaid’s photo.
The thin receptionist nodded his head. ‘I’m sorry about that. I couldn’t say for sure, but definitely, not his spouse, whoever she is or was’. Pavil let that little joke whoosh by unnoticed.
He looked at the camera on the wall behind the reception. ‘and what about that?’ he asked.
‘Had that ever worked, we’d have had an endless line of disgruntled wives and husbands’ the receptionist said matter of factly, producing a large register from the nether regions of the reception table.
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