House of Glass | Complete ✔

Chapter 6

*Flashbacks in bold* 

Location: Budapest XIII. Police HQ

Time: 9:30 am, morning after the murder

Naushad silently watched, sitting in the lounge, as the officers went on performing their regular duties in the largest police station in Budapest. He had been waiting for the officer in charge, who had called him in that morning for some additional questioning.

Like most of the buildings in the city, the architecture of this one was admirable. It looked a tad too neat and luxurious to be a police precinct. The things they do with taxpayers money, Naushad thought to himself and chuckled. He probably paid more than any other businessman, owing to the magnitude of his expansive company. Despite his twisted ways of working, he was a law abiding citizen, respected amongst the people of the city, including the police. So he had no qualms in coming in to help them out with the investigation. But at that time he didn't know the investigation had already taken a turn that might not end well for him.

"Good morning Mr Gilani."

When he looked up, his eyes met with an unfamiliar face. A young woman, possibly in her early thirties wearing a brown vest with a foreign badge.

"I'm officer Abigail Hughes, the new officer-in-charge for this investigation." She introduced herself in a thick British accent before extending her hand forward, which Naushad shook politely.

"Sorry to call you in early in the morning. I assumed you might be busy the rest of the day so I thought we'd get this task out of the way beforehand."

"Not an issue. In fact, I had told the officer before you that we're willing to fully co-operate. Um..." he hesitated before blurting out the question. "Pardon me for the intrusive question, but you don't look like a part of the local police."

Abigail smiled in response.

"That's because I'm not. I work with an Interpol subsidiary here in Budapest. Since this case has international involvement, the police asked me to help. So I'm here." She shrugged her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, international involvement?" He leaned forward on his couch in curiosity.

Abigail, who was sitting on the adjacent couch crossed her legs and rested her hands over them.

"Yes, that is why we had to call you in for some additional questioning." Her beaming face was still the same, cold and pretentious.

He leaned back again and lifted his hand in gesture. "Go ahead."

"After looking into the victim's background, we traced him back to the UK. In fact he's on Interpol's records." She passed a paper to him. "Hafeez Sayeed, or better known as Junior Pasha. He was the son of one of Mumbai's criminal overlord, Lala Pasha. After his father's death he took over his business and settled in London from where he remotely managed their activity. Because he was out of Indian jurisdiction, nobody could arrest him in London, although the British intelligence was monitoring him closely because of suspected terrorist activity. That is, until he disappeared from the radar a few months ago. They presumed he went back to India and went underground, so they had to let him go for the time being. But last night when the Hungarian police began to circulate his picture within their department, I happened to come across it and recognize his face."