ArHi FF! The Cult [Completed] - Page 41

[Blackwolf examining the dirt of a crime scene]

Reid: I notice you don't carry a gun.

Blackwolf: Twenty-one feet.

Reid: What?

Blackwolf: Ask Agent Hotchner there. He's the real gun-hand.

Hotchner: Why do you say that?

Blackwolf:You carry two guns.

Hotchner: [To Reid] The maximum distance an attacker with a knife can close in the time it takes to react, draw your sidearm, and fire is twenty-one feet.

Blackwolf: Inside twenty-one feet I win. Outside twenty-one feet, I have other options besides shooting a man.

Reid: Like negotiating.

Blackwolf: Like running.

Hotchner: Why do you say I carry two guns?

Blackwolf: Your right instep print's heavier than your left, and since you don't appear to have a clubbed right foot...

Hotchner: You can't tell that from my footprints. There's no perceptible difference between them.

Blackwolf: Your problem isn't with your prints. It's with your perception.

                                      --- Criminal Minds

Chapter 11:

Anger penetrated my flesh and bore into my bones numbing my body in process. I asked one of the constables to drive me to the university. I don't trust myself to make it without harming myself and other patrons on the road in process. He doesn't bat an eyelid when I ask him to switch on the red and blue lights. I kept my eyes on the road and tried to rationalize the situation before confronting Khushi.

Khushi's husband was murdered a decade ago in the same fashion as Vimal Sharma. However the body was mutilated to the point of failure in recognition. Khushi had identified the body as her husband – Shyam Manohar Jha. The inspector who investigated the case had attached a photo of Khushi's husband.

Khushi's murdered husband shared the same name and face as my brother-in-law, Shyam Manohar Jha. I want to see the extent of deceit that is infiltrated in my family. Shyam had seemed like a genuine nice guy when Anjali met almost a decade ago. They had courted for a year before tying the knot. I was the happiest brother in the world the day my sister married Shyam. They were amazing together and Shyam made my sister happy. He always made sure I was involved in their happiness.

But this news has come as a blow to me – something I hadn't imagined and least expected.

The jeep comes to a stop and I get down watching the building in front of me. Confronting her wouldn't be pretty. I am not sure if I want to hear her side of the story. I have a feeling the truth would hurt me. Instead of taking elevator, I take stairs. The burn in my calf muscles doesn't lessen the burn in my chest. I am attracted to her; severely at that. And this is close to being betrayed.

I walk to her room and open the door forgoing the politeness. She is talking to couple of students who turn to look at me evidently surprised at a Khaki clad police officer in their professor's room. Khushi looks at me and recognizes urgency in my stance.

"We will continue this tomorrow," she says standing up. The students scramble almost immediately.

She looks at me with question in her eyes. I hand her the case file. She closes it and slams it on the table the moment she sees the murder scene.

"What? Did you think I will not get my hands on this case?" I ask sarcasm automatically creeping in.

She shakes her head. "I didn't expect you to find it this soon. I thought I had couple of days before you to come barging through that door." She shrugged. The carelessness in her voice didn't match the defeated look on her face.

"The man, your husband who is claimed to be dead also happens to be my brother-in-law. Care to explain?" My anger seeps through my words and she flinches slightly at the sharpness of it.

"Honestly? No." She looks weary but I am beyond point of caring.

"Khushi…" My voice didn't hold back the harshness.

She sighed. "Shyam and I married out of necessity. I wanted to get excommunicated from my community and it was possible only if I married outside my…community. He is a good friend of mine and he helped me do it."

"Then who was the man who was found dead in your house? And why did you identify him as your husband?" This isn't good. I have a feeling I am plunging into something old and rotten. This story has the stink of an old corpse but unfortunately my sister's marriage was hanging on the line.

"It was Shyam's cousin." She looks up suddenly understanding what I am subtly implying. "And no, we didn't plan for him to die." She replies coldly to my unanswered question. I can't blame her for the shift in mood but right now she isn't looking all that clean.

"What happened then?" I rally.

"Freaky coincidence happened Arnav. Shyam was working late. His cousin picked up our house keys from Shyam and went to our place. I reached few hours later and found him dead." The detachment in her voice trembles me a little.

"Why would anyone want to kill Shyam?" That should have been my first question. Because the answers weren't something I was quite hoping for.

"It's a long story." She answers bleakly.

"I have a lot of time." I am adamant. "I am not leaving till I have answers Khushi." My voice is thick with emotion. Her lashes hold droplets of tears. This wasn't easy for her. Well, it wasn't easy for me either. My sister's life was at stake and…yeah, that's it. I convince myself humorlessly.

"I understand the symbols you found in crime scene not because of my research but due to my legacy. I am one of the surviving members of the tribe Arnav." Okay, I didn't expect that. My sudden thought is if she was the killer. I look at her, my emotions bare. I am slowly devolving out of my police persona and becoming an emotional puddle. It isn't healthy or safe.

"I am not the one committing murders – I assure you that. But I have a faint idea what you should be looking at in your investigation." She smiles deprecatingly. Somehow that smile breaks the innocence and the ageless factor she confidently carried.

"What is it?" I ask wanting to know more for obvious reasons.

She sighs and closes her eyes. Her voice transforms to a hollow whisper as if she is telling me secrets that no one should know. Maybe that's what it was. "My father betrayed the tribe by talk about rituals and customs to an outsider. The tribe or community as we call it is extremely secretive. There is very little literature available on these people and they prefer it that way. My father was promised riches and other nonsense which led to him being excommunicated by death."

I inhale sharply. She smiles sadly. "I was angry at my tribe for doing such heinous act once came to know about it. I was raised by the community and once I was old enough, they told me about my father and his betrayal. I was angry and harbored a mild grudge against the folks. What my father had done was beyond anyone's imagination. He had given knowledge to a psychopath who twisted the cultural implications of what the tribe was known for."

My eyes widen at that. "Do you know who is committing these murders?" My voice is huskier than normal.

"I don't know who that is. But I do know that there is a pseudo cult revolving what that man learnt from my father. We are not religious people Arnav. My people existed even before the concept of religion became a notion of recognition. We are what we are. But these cults that have sprouted like mushrooms – they are shrouded by religious and pious agenda thus making them practically untouchable without ruffling the nest." There was bitterness in her voice. I don't blame her.

"But your people must have done some investigation, have they not? I mean these people are tarnishing your image." I wonder aloud.

She laughed. The laugh cleared some shadows on her face. Not all, just some of them. "We are ordinary people with huge knowledge base Arnav. Stop thinking of us like an organization with resources and money to do such things. Imagine a bunch of people living in the same apartment complex – that's all we are." Amusement hasn't left her voice.

"And here I thought, you meeting other people in caves and basements and plotting new world order." I reply sardonically. The mood between us lightened as she snickered at my quip.

"According to my father the man who came to him was enthralled with the history and believed that he belonged to the tribe more than anyone of us who were a part of it because of our legacy that is, being born into it. The man supposedly believed in all the customs are rituals more than us which was a bit disturbing. Because to be honest, even my elders thought that some of those customs were archaic."

I simply nod my head and understand what she is trying to say. The plethora of information was flowing faster than I imagined.

She continues recognizing my silence. "However there are certain things my elders didn't entertain. Marrying out of community was one of them. At one point of time they harbored the notion that like my father, I was betraying them by joining hands with that foreigner."  I raise my eyebrow at the 'foreigner' reference. "Every outsider is a foreigner." She clarifies. "It was the first time in century that a high priestess has been excommunicated. It's never heard of, actually."

My eyes are as huge as saucers. "You are the high-priestess?" My voice is shrill.

She nods gravely. "Yes, I am. My community held a grudge against me for doing such a thing to them. But they wouldn't go as far as killing my husband. They aren't that ruthless. Besides they knew that the marriage was of convenience and I had no interest in consummating the marriage."

It's pathetic how my heart soars listening to that tiny revelation. I feel horrible for being elated at her declaration. "But the cult didn't." My voice is hoarse.

She nods. "If my husband dies, my marriage is automatically annulled. On paper and in reality, I lead the life of a widow. Since Shyam is technically dead from my marriage point of view and is happily married to someone else, the cult doesn't care. All they wanted was I to be unmarried and lead the life of a high-priestess."

I snort. "Honestly, Khushi. This all sounds like script from Amar Chitra Katha." I can't help but bring out my childhood memories which involved stories like this.

"The cult is run by a man who is delusional enough to believe that all this is true Arnav. That's the problem. Our beliefs are immaterial to the man." Khushi shrugged. I concede to this fact.

"This changes everything." I manage to say. Thankfully Khushi doesn't ask me if I was talking about us or the case. I get up and hold my hand out for her. She takes it without hesitation.

"Did you drug me last night?" I ask her already dreading the answer. She averts her eyes and I know the truth. My mouth has suddenly gone dry.

"I grow that herb in my garden. I had a feeling you might have use for it." She replies softly.

"You should have told me." The accusation stands clear. Trust, is a sensitive issue for me. As a cop it is important from me to rely on others to save my life as the public relies on me.

"As if you would agree," her voice is suddenly cold and descended the stairs faster.

"You don't know that," I reply sharply. How did we end up arguing about us? When did that happen?

"Arnav, will you drink some milk tonight with the herb I will be giving you?" She walked to her door and banged it open.

I stood by the doorjamb and observed her. It looks to me the attraction is mutual. "I will." I reply softly. She whirls around and looks at me wide eyed. It's almost insulting. "Why will I say no to a good night sleep?" Really, it's surprising when presume that they are invincible by saying no to medication. It's degradingly idiotic. As a cop it's best to be working with a clear frame of mind. If I am going to get rid of insomnia due to some plant, I am all for it. "It's not some illegal drug in raw form, is it?" I ask peering at her. She laughs shaking her head.

"It isn't. Though high concentration of it can be deemed illegal but not that anyone knows. While growing up I was taught a lot about herbs. It's my first practical application of that knowledge." She smiles and hands me a small zip-lock packet. "Add a pinch of this in a glass of warm milk. You should be able to sleep for five hours."

"And if I don't?" I ask, hesitant.

She looks at her feet and refuses to meet my eyes. I wonder why. "The herb is a sleep inducer Arnav. Unless you find out real reason for insomnia, you won't be able to fall asleep on your own."

I should have seen that coming. I nod unnecessarily.

"Shukla and Keith should know about this – what they are getting into. Tell me what should I tell them?" I know what I want. But her drooping shoulders don't allow me that luxury.

"Tell them the truth." She looks up finally and gives me a defeated smile.

I nod and bid her goodbye. I idly wonder why she didn't fight with me to hold back the truth and continue with the con. It would have been easier for her to deal with.

I decide to take the stairs but the telltale sign of elevator arrival changes my mind. I walk in and hit the button. A man entered just before the door is about to be closed. I am distracted with lot of information swimming in my head and I don't see it coming.

A small knife makes its way into the side but my hand reflexively catches the hand that is plunging the knife into my side. The attacker has miscalculated my response and struggles to get the knife out. The elevator opens and the lobby is scattered with few students. The man manages to let go of the knife and the blood makes my hands slip from his wrist. He runs away as I clutch my side and collapse on the ground.

My eyes swim and I wonder why I am losing consciousness. The wound hurts like hell but it was still pretty superficial and I hadn't even lose a lot of blood. Before succumbing to darkness I have one last rational thought – I was poisoned.

Note: Unedited and non-proof read chapter.

Please note:

Updates will be slower in coming two weeks as I am busy with exams and such. But I will mange at least one update a day of one of the three stories.

Thanks,

RB