Just when they thought about ending the case, I made my preparation of beginning the chase and that's where I always won, for I never stopped when they started and never paused when they departed ~ The Stalker
Imagine getting invited to a grand feas...
'Summerhill estate agency, how may I help you?' the voice asked. 'Connect me to "The Boss"' Jeel replied.
'There's no such associate, I would recommend-'
'It's me, Jeel. Now connect my line to "The Boss"' There was a small twitch on the other side and the call was put on hold. A few seconds went by, there was no response.
'"The Boss" here. What do you want?' The voice was harsh.
'You know what I want. My original passport and documents, so I can run away from this ruckus you created.'
'I'm afraid that's not possible. They are my only assurances for now.' Jeel rolled her eyes in annoyance.
'Boss, please. We have worked together on so many successful operations. A single prick of a thorn shouldn't form distrust among us, don't you think so?'
'We are done talking if that's all you have to say.'
'Boss-' and the line went dead. Jeel kicked the cushions which lay beside her and cursed 'The Boss' under her breath. Her apartment was comfortable enough, but she was hiding. Her photos and descriptions were all over the places, she had to cover her face with a dupatta every time she walked out of the apartment. The strange part was that David had finally stopped contacting her. He didn't have her secondary number, nor did he have the dummy address. She wasn't sure what he had on his mind, perhaps it was time for her to contact him.
There was a sudden buzz, it was the doorbell. Jeel was startled! Was her address traced? Or was her phone call intercepted? She was well aware that the case was still with the SHO and not transferred to the DSP or ACP, irrespective of nature. But then, who was it? Slowly, she advanced towards the door, she had no time to search for her gun, she secretly removed her pocket dagger and clutched her hands tightly on the door, ready to open it.
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21st March 2003
8.03 A.M.
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
Five cops filled in, guns in their hands. They paced towards the doorstep, slowly, without disturbing the silence. Mr. Khatri had instructed them to ring the doorbell politely, without announcing who they were. The upper windows were open, indicating that someone resided there.
There was a crack, and the door opened slowly, the cops were ready with their guns. When the door was finally unlocked, they stood there, confused. Standing in front of them was a 12-year-old girl, who screamed instantly at the sight of the guns.
