Primed For Crime

4» Long night

Myra stared dumbfounded at Vishal, shocked at his words.

Here she was searching all day for a cover story in a library, flipping through old newspapers and articles but it never crossed her mind that the story would come searching for her.

If this news is true, assuming it is news and not some sick rumour, she couldn't think of a better story than this.

Of course it is a sensitive matter and using this story might have its cons, looking at how confidential the police will try to keep it. Many political and social issues will be raised if she decides to sail along the story's investigation.

But she didn't slog her ass in Columbia university for 3 years and studied investigative journalism to give up because of some social issues.

And neither would India stay calm when one of her daughters is robbed of her dignity.

"Yes." Myra mumbled after a long silence.

She looked at Vishal, her eyes held determination, "When do we start?"

***

Myra and Vishal stared from the safety of his car at the old building that had bold letters Police Station painted in english and in Hindi letters.

When Myra said 'when do we start' needless to say she didn't expect a local police station would be their first checkpoint.

She stole a quick glance at Vishal, his eyes were lost into oblivion but his jaw set tight. She couldn't say if he was lost in thoughts or angry, which was a shame because she was always so good at reading people's minds.

Except one. Her mind reminded her.

Myra pinched her nose bridge and got down from the car, Vishal soon followed her.

"I thought you said, the cops won't help the media?" She raised her doubt.

Vishal ran his fingers through his already perfectly set hair and sighed.

"Let's just hope that I'm wrong." He mumbled and walked towards the building.

Myra followed him, her eyes carefully watching and taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. As they walked closer the sounds of chaos grew louder.

Her eyes caught the scene where a couple of men in khaki uniform were thrashing few group of men. Beside the room, another couple of cops interrogating one man, trying to intimidate him surely, Myra observed.

They were all sorts of unsual people, crying women, scared men, and few women in colorful sarees who looked more bulkier than the cops themselves. They looked different, Myra thought to herself. They were quite touchy with the cops who looked done with them.

Are they prostitutes? Myra questioned to herself but shook away the thought ashamed to judge those women inspite of being a woman herself.

Her eyes focused back at the men who were thrashed mercilessly, their screams echoing into the busy corridors of the building.

The screams unsettled Myra in some way. She gulped pushing down the images that threatened to surface in her mind.

"SIR! SIR! PLEASE!" One of them yelled.

"Leave me, please!" A woman screeched.

"MYRA!" Vishal tapped on her shoulder pulling her out of her trance.

Myra jumped away from his touch but breathed out in relief once Vishal's face appeared through the dim street light.

Even though Vishal would never admit, her reaction scared him half to death. He cleared his throat, and manned up.