SEGMENT #13
Ishaan wasn't a chatty person but there was rarely silence when they were working, courtesy to Darshan. But even with him, the room had been shrouded in a mourning silence. He wouldn't dare admit it but he kind of wanted the chattiness. It would distract him.
He had lingered in his house, trying to work but it had quickly becoming suffocating. The unusual seriousness Darshan was working with, the mourning silence, and the weight of the knowledge. Gaurav was dead.
And so, he had bid him a goodbye, excusing himself with the reason of going to meet Trisha.
Ishaan knocked on the door. A moment. And then another. He sighed, grabbing the spare key, and pushing open the door.
Something wasn't right.
His eyes darted to the stairs as he heard a muffled noise. He slowly walked up, his gun drawn and cocked. The noise intensified.
He pushed open the door and his blood ran cold.
"Ishu", Trisha whimpered, clutching her stomach. It was stained. With blood. He froze, watching her. She was stabbed.
"Trisha." He quickly ran up to her, gently prying her hand away from the wound. The knife was taken out. She was bleeding out. So fast. He ripped off his jacket, balling it up and putting pressure on the wound. "Trisha... hold it." He guided her hand to it, and she gasped in pain, but pressed against the wound. He slipped his hands underneath her, carrying her out.
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"That b*tch!" Nushrat swore, inspecting her desk. She looked at Darshan who watched her quietly. "Woh... yahan baithi thi?" She pointed to the chair. He nodded. She grabbed the sanitizing liquid, spraying it on the chair and wiping it aggressively.
"Do you know anything about Bissa?" He asked. She had a vast knowledge of organized crimes, having eyes and ears in both their police department and the crime world, although the sources were sealed and were nothing more than snitches. No loyalty. In Hindi, perhaps the phrase- bin painda ka lota- would suit them.
"Who Bissa?" She snapped, spraying the liquid on the desk and wiping it. "My desk has been tainted by criminal butt."
"My friend has been killed", he snapped.
Nushrat paused in her whining, staring at him. She released the bottle and the cloth, clearing her throat and sitting down on the chair. "Bissa?"
He passed her the photo and she inspected it wordlessly. "His name is not Bissa. At least, not the name I know of. His name is Kaami. He is involved in a lot of cases but never convicted. He has some corrupt high ranking officers in his pocket. He is close to Simba."
"Kitna close?"
Nushrat shrugged. "Major cheezen toh sab pata hongi Simba ke baare mein. But minor workings... pata nahi."
Darshan looked down when his phone buzzed. Ishaan.
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