The Secret Library of Ishikawa

 

Fuyuko Tanaka looked at the ancient manuscript with unbelievable excitement and anxiety. It had taken him more than seven months to decipher the ancient codes that were written on the manuscript. The manuscript was one of the many that was discovered by Fuyuko’s archaeological explorers while they were in search of an ancient Buddhist site that according to the legends existed at the site, but what the explorers had got were a box of ancient manuscripts that had no value to them but had caught the interest of their head, Fuyuko. 

Fuyuko Tanaka had always wanted to become an archaeological explorer. He believed that humans were sent to the world to discover unknown truths which were left behind by the previous generations. Neither did his parents stop him nor did his friends. By the age of twenty-seven Fuyuko was ready to join a team of explorers who were planning to visit an ancient quarry near the ancient town of Osaka. Japan as a country had had a rich history which Fuyuko felt consisted of a lot of geographical and environmental secrets hidden from the world. Though the profession of an archaeological explorer was not of much prominence in Japan during the seventeenth century, Fuyuko and his team believed in what they were up to. They had always believed many years later their discoveries and research would change the outlook of the world towards the history of human civilisation. The year was 1705, when Fuyuko had finally at the age of forty become a head of an exploring party.

Fuyuko had grown up with his family in the Japanese city of Kyoto, which was also the capital of Japan. For Fuyuko, it was very important that he moved out of the city to explore the unseen world. Destiny surely had a different plan when Fuyuko got his majority of explorations within the province of Kyoto. It was during one of such explorations when Fuyuko’s team had found those ancient manuscripts. For Fuyuko, those manuscripts had actually been a bigger discovery than their actual plan of Buddhist sites. Something hinted to Fuyuko that the manuscripts had something important hidden in them.

Post the manuscripts were found, it took Fuyuko seven months to decipher the ancient Japanese languages and code. Astonishment had hit Fuyuko. He had actually come across a description about an escape of ancient Japanese king who once had ruled many provinces in the ancient city of Kyoto. For weeks, he revised his entire process of breaking the ancient Japanese language to be sure that what he interpreted was true. What Fuyuko was not sure was whether to share his discovery of the contents of the ancient manuscripts with his team mates who had actually forgotten about the discovery. After days of thinking, Fuyuko had different plans. He would share his discovery with his childhood friend and who was also a geographical navigator who loved discovering new places in Japan. Kaito Nakamura would surely be an excited fellow after learning his discovery, Fuyuko thought, as he packed his belongings to travel to his friend.

Kaito Nakamura was forty-three years old in 1705. Happily married with two children, Kaito spent more than six months in a year travelling around the country. His discoveries had won him accolades from the Empire.  Though Kaito had imagined for some rest at home for the rest of year, little did he have any idea that his friend Fuyuko Tanaka would appear at his house with a discovery that would change his plans for the rest of the year.  It took more than two days for Fuyuko to make Kaito understand the entire information stated in the manuscripts. Kaito observed that the manuscripts were old but still intact due to the quality of cloth used. The entire manuscript was written on cloths which survived the test of time. Though the browning of the cloth made Fuyuko take more time to interpret things from it, both had observed that at the end of all the cloth pieces an inscription of ancient Japanese language appeared which both of them interpreted as Hina Ito. Probably the writer of the manuscript, they had concluded finally. Both had never heard that name before, but they surely had heard the name of the Japanese king that had been mentioned in the manuscripts.

Atsuko Ishikawa was a fifteenth century Japanese king who had ruled many of the provinces in and around Kyoto.  He had also been a great scholar and a collector of ancient books and manuscripts from all over the world.  Rarely people had come across such a great king who was equally a learned person. Atsuko hardly relied on any advisor or his friends for any decision making with regard to his provinces. What intrigued both Fuyuko and Kaito was the fact that being a conqueror, Atsuko was also a great reader of ancient books and manuscripts. The manuscripts which Kaito held also described about the loot which Atsuko had acquired from his conquest. Jewels, diamonds, metals and gold, everything was stored in an underground house in his palace which was located on the eastern border of Kyoto. Both wondered that they had passed by that famous palace on numerous occasions which was in isolation now, but little did they know that the same broken palace was once a store house of rich jewels, diamonds and metals. But what interested both of them was the fact that the king also had an underground safe house where he kept the collection of his books and manuscripts. It was mentioned in the manuscript which Fuyuko had brought that Atsuko had a secret safe house under the palace for books which could also be referred to as a secret library. During his recreation time, Atsuko would often spend hours reading the books and manuscripts. Some years later, one of the rebel warriors by the name of Mayo had attacked the province of Atsuko. His prime aim was to loot the jewels, diamonds and metals which Atsuko had plundered from all over.  There were attacks before, but rarely did Atsuko allow any of them of get any hold. But when Mayo attacked, Atsuko and his army had been defeated. Atsuko had been taken hostage in his own palace. Mayo and his group searched the entire palace for the treasure but couldn’t get anything. Finally in frustration Mayo killed Atsuko and left the palace in anger for other loots. The library of books which Atsuko had made did not interest Mayo. He had entered the library in search of the treasure but seeing only books he left the library with a huge grunt. As time passed by, the palace become an isolated place. The people of the province had many a times gone into the palace in search of the treasure but came out disappointed. Over the years, the palace weakened and in one of storms broke down. For Fuyuko and Kaito, it was a simple conclusion. They wanted the books which perhaps were still there under the palace in the underground safe house.

It was decided that it would only be Fuyuko and Kaito who would be involved in this activity. Involving anyone else would increase the risk of the information getting leaked. They would start for the palace three nights later. Fuyuko in the meantime gifted Kaito two new Kimonos which he had brought for him. Kaito always loved this traditional dress. Kimonos had always been his favourite since childhood. Although Fuyuko had always loved to wear Yukata, which was a type of summer Kimono, but often on festivals Fuyuko could be seen in full-fledged Kimono. For the next few days, Kaito and Fuyuko planned all the details about the visit to the palace. They had decided that it would be better to visit the palace in the night when the entire province would be asleep.

Once they had started for the journey, both in their own heads were full of anxiety and excitement. They were thinking about the books, the kind of literature which they would be introduced to. Fuyuko, who wanted to travel the world, thought, reading those books would surely give him a glimpse of the unseen world. It took them more than three nights to reach the palace. They had walked all from Kaito’s house to the eastern border where the palace was situated.

Both had seen the palace after a considerable gap of time. Though they had passed the area many a times before, they never gave a serious look at the old isolated palace. As they stood in front of it in the silver light of the night moon, the broken palace seemed haunted and dangerous. There was no evidence of life around apart from two of them. Kaito started to walk towards the palace while Fuyuko looked on.

“Don’t worry. I have got a statue of our god with us. No evil can come near us and here take these two lockets. It has some verses of our local prayer written on it.” Fuyuko took hold of the two lockets.

They both walked in silence.  Though the area nearby was covered by weeping willows and Japanese maples, the front of the palace was full of broken bricks and scattered mud. As they entered the palace building which was half broken, a ray of the silver moon light helped them walk the way inside.  Neither did they have any map nor did they have any clue as to the location of the rooms in the palace. Only thing that they knew was that they had to somehow get into the underground safe house. To Kaito, it seemed as if this building hadn’t been inhabited since decades. There was no trace of any human survival or presence and use.  Candles were used to trace the way. Both of them moved slowly, looking at every corner for any way or path to get into the underground area. Though they knew that they would not get anything on first floor, they climbed it with the help of a tree that had grown inside the palace. Using the trunks and branches, they climbed on to the first floor. They entered a big room which had been full of mud and dust and looked around.

“Must have been the sleeping room for Atsuko,” Fuyuko said looking all around.

The bed still was there but was tarnished completely by rodents and insects. They looked all around but could not find any secret chamber or stair. Tired, Fuyuko rested against the bed, an act which pushed the bed. As the bed moved ahead, the flooring below the bed opened up with a rash sound. Surprised, both looked below the bed. They went near to the open floor and looked below. It was completely dark for the human eye to observe anything. They lit two more candles and went down one by one. Both held the candle in their hands as they walked.

Kaito looked around. “So, the way to the underground was through the bed on which the king slept.”

“The king surely trusted none of his companions or soldiers.” Fuyuko said as he looked all around in astonishment.

Within the shades of the lights of candles, they could see an earth of books and manuscripts kept on wooden shelves covered in dust, mud and rodents. Fuyuko could wait no longer. He fixed one of the bigger candles on the ground and walked near the book shelves.  Kaito too walked towards the opposite shelve. Both got one of the books from the respective shelves, dusted the mud and rodents and opened up the book to see the contents.  As they simultaneously opened up, they saw something that they had never expected. In between the book, a space was created by tearing out the pages of the book with the back kept intact. In the gap there were small jewels and diamonds. Both looked around to see each other.

They looked at each other in silence.

“Oh my!” Uttered Fuyuko.

Over the next one hour, both of them opened up at least a hundred books. All the books had jewels, diamonds, and gold pieces hidden inside the space created within them. In the light of the candles, Fuyuko and Kaito were sitting in front of a mountain of jewels, diamonds and metals along with gold. Fuyuko looked at Kaito with a grin.

“Now you know why Mayo never found any treasure in this palace. The king hid them in all these books. He had guessed that someday there will be an attack. He also knew that books would be the least thing that an attacker would be interested in.” Fuyuko and Kaito looked at each other with a smile. They both knew that, now they could travel the whole world with this fortune.

In Plain Sight

 

The dead body of Robert knight was found at the corner of the street that was generally quiet and frequented only by the early morning crowd. The dead body, initially which was ignored, gained the attention of the increasing lot of people who passed by it. Unlike the other parts of the city, the west portion of city saw large movement of population during early mornings as people stepped out for work at destinations which were far away.   Saigon was the capital of Cochinchina, a French protectorate, which later on went on to be known as Vietnam.  It was in this Vietnamese city where Robert had landed exactly six months ago for his research on the historical background of the country and particularly the city of Saigon.  Robert was a British citizen, who had been lately passing his time travelling all around the world for his various research activities. For the police of Saigon to find a dead body of such British national was a matter of significant importance.

The year 1910 was a very busy year for the development and expansion of the city. As Robert had gathered in his information booklet, Saigon as a city was captured by the French in 1859 in disguise of trade and commerce and later on the city was ceded to France in 1862. For long the French had been eyeing the city in the potential additions to its list of colonies. However, the development that the French had brought with it couldn’t have been ignored and for Robert too this aspect was an important highlight in his research. The city which lately was beautified with tree lines boulevards, extra ordinary villas and also the development of a port city by the French had gained quite a bit of prominence for the French in a short period of time.  Robert was lately seen with many of the locals touring around the town. His place of accommodation was the Hotel Le Grande at the center of the town. As the morning had passed by, the news of the dead body of Robert knight had spread like a wild fire.

For the French government, it had become an important political and social issue which needed immediate solution or at least cooling off. For the previous many years, whenever the French found themselves in difficult situations in Saigon, only one man was again and again called for.

 Paolo De Romario was working for the French for the last five years as a detective investigating on matters happening in the city which were out of the routine order. Paolo, who was a representative of the French in many of its colonies earlier, was called to Saigon to enjoy his retirement peacefully mixed up with break in investigations. Though earlier there had never been any murder investigation which Paolo had to look into at Saigon, this one surely made his near old age an exciting one.

 Paolo, who was born and brought up in France, was the only child to a sweet French couple who had never had any inking of idea that their son would one day be a responsible official of the French government. Paolo as a child had a very sharp intuition about things happening around him. People referred it to God’s will or symbol, but for Paolo it was natural. As he grew up, he had become a known name in the neighborhood in solving small cases of theft and robbery. By the time he reached his teens, he solved cases of infidelity and cheating. Though inclined to be a detective, Paolo was made to be an administrative clerk at the French government’s revenue collection department. The routine works bored Paolo to hell due to which he observed and investigated many of the secret dealings in his office. The entire government noticed his talent when he uncovered a cash fraud that was committed by a group of experienced employees of the Crown. As years flew by, Paolo got married, had children and walked up the social and financial ladder like a very happy man with his break in investigations at every other interval. A point came in his life when Paolo travelled literally to many of the French colonies along with his families and settled at such places for two to three years before moving out to the next. It was in this manner, when Paolo was called to Saigon, one of the new cities to be taken over by the French.  He had brought his family along and his children which comprised two boys who had grown up by now and worked for the French government as civil engineers. It was evident for Paolo that the murder investigation of Robert Knight could end up being his last case, whether solved or unsolved depending upon time.

It had taken three more days before Paolo had completed the documentation process of taking up the case. His start point unlike any other case was not the scene of crime which by now had turned into a summer market place, but the hotel at which Robert Knight had resided. Hotel Le Grande was built by the French and coincidentally one of the civil engineers involved in the project was also his son. For Paolo, looking at Le Grande was a proud moment as a father. Inquiries were made with the hotel staff and Robert’s room was searched out in detail for any suspicious clue which could hint at any motive. The entire search operation had taken his next five hours. Not even an iota of clue or evidence could be found in the room. For Paolo the first point was a completed and stroked off.  The team’s next halt was the local guys with whom Robert was seen frequenting around the town. There was in all three loyal guys who would show Robert around. Two of them were clean and did not have any criminal background but one by the name of Rico was a history sheeter. For tracing Rico, they had to bind a field of followers who ultimately trapped Rico from a location which would be tight enough for not allowing any slip.

Rico was a petty thief who had often landed on wrong side of the law. It was during one of such robberies that he had come to know about a foreign tourist who wanted some local guys for his travel. Rico couldn’t control his urge for robbing off a foreign tourist of his belongings and foreign currency.  For many a day, Rico just waited for the opportunity to run off with the Robert’s things and money but the other two would often stick around and keep a close eye on him. As the news of Robert’s death had become public in Saigon, Rico had gone into a hiding fearing arrest in connection with the murder. For Paolo, it was an easy interrogation which concluded the fact that Rico wasn’t aware of any one or himself didn’t have any agenda other than robbing off Robert’s money and valuable which he even could have done with just tying him up or making him unconscious. Paolo had to put a strike off on the second point of their chase.

Saigon off late, post the French intrusion had become an important point for Trade on the sea and the high seas. The development of the port that was made by the French had majorly contributed to this rise in trade through the entire south east. Robert Knight had been lately researching and spending lot of his time in analyzing the impact of the rise in trade on the country and city. For this, he would often spend hours at the city’s port. For Paolo, it was obvious that they should be having a round off of the Port too. During that time the Saigon city port was a busy one which saw the hustle bustle even during mid- nights. Stock after stocks and lots after lots of import and export of goods were being exchanged and sent off. Paolo’s team had to conduct a very detailed examination of the entire port to look for loose ends which Robert might have fallen too. After a thorough search of around five days, Paolo finally had to strike off the third and final point of their investigation which was the Port.  They had to report their findings to the higher officials above.

The next fortnight, Paolo had a secret meeting with three of the higher officials of French government who were based in Saigon. For the three, the investigation by Paolo was the most crucial thing in their careers lately. It was during the interaction that Paolo was told that Investigators from Britain would be arriving to Saigon after a month. Paolo gave a grin to the three of them.

“And what would they find?”

“Nothing!”

“We have checked all the corners of the city and all the points of contacts with whom Robert interacted.”

Paolo explained the officials that the Murder looks like a one-off event, perhaps of a kind of some rogue gang or robbery.

The three officials looked at Paolo and one of them spoke,

“So, you are sure there is no evidence that Robert was murdered for some specific link”

“Nothing at all.”

The meeting had ended and Paolo returned home after a tiring end to the entire investigation. He relaxed for some time near the window and walked near to it and lit a cigar. He looked out into the infinite sky.

 It surely was a difficult task this time.  He had to cover up the three French official who had warned him that unless he finished this assignment he wouldn’t be going back to France. He was forced to conduct the investigation to make sure that there was no evidence available in relation to the murder of Robert Knight who had got on wrong side of those corrupt French officials. Paolo was hired to conduct the investigation in a manner so as to bring out any evidence, if available, which would eventually be changed or made to be disappeared before the Britishers would land up at Saigon.

 For Paolo, the entire investigation was just a disguise through which he himself discovered why Robert Knight was murdered. In the hotel room he had found out some noting on a white pad which was hidden in the bathroom. The noting hinted at one of the locals who had informed Robert of a huge Opium trade consignments landing at the city’s port which were later sent off to other countries from there. For this, those three French officials were earning huge commissions. Robert, during the course of his research on Saigon had unearthed this aspect which he wanted to send it to Britain. He had contacted Rico for this but Rico had alerted the French officials and they made sure that Robert wouldn’t be alive to speak to anyone. The murder was committed in a manner and at a place where the suspicion could only be towards robbery or some rogue gang fight.

Paolo had become old and tired. He just wanted to go home to his country. His entire investigation had made the officials happy. There were no trials, no clues and no evidences because everything was wiped off by him. The Britishers would not find anything.

The Missing Coins - The Detectives Boys - Short Story 3

 Bhuno da was a happy man of late. His Paan shop had earned quite a name in a short period time. Located near the Dhakuria Railway station, it had always been Bhuno da’s dream to open a paan shop as was the tradition of their family. Bhunolprasad Mukherjee, whom people lovingly referred to as Bhuno da was a resident of a distant suburb of Kolkata until he shifted his base to south Kolkata. Often travelling by train, he would get down at the Dhakuria Railway station along the hundreds of others and walk down the Babu Bagan Lane to go towards the city. He particularly loved the hustle around the Dhakuria Railway station. Bulky in appearance with curly oiled hair, Bhuno da would often be seen in his favorite dress of a cream kurta and white pajama. Still single, he planned to get married by the end of 1997.

For long he was in search of a small little space to open a small little Paan shop. Inquiring all around the city, finally he had got a small pace near the Dhakuria Railway station on the bus depot side. It was a small little shop without a cover in the summers and with an umbrella during monsoon. Slowly, the shop earned good name due to its variation in various Paan flavors. People getting down from the local trains would approach Bhuno da’s paan shop before they would continue towards their destinations. Lunch time and dinner time would see the maximum rush during which Bhuno da would be exceedingly busy to concentrate on anything other than serving the various Paan variants.

It was one such afternoon of the winter of 1997. Bhuno da was busy serving his Paan dishes. Once he would collect the money from the customers, he would immediately put the money in the drawer, however if there were coins, the same would be put in a wooden bowl which was kept on slab behind him. At the end of the day, he would count the collections and tally it with the number of Paan’s sold. To the surprise of Bhuno da that night the collections didn’t tally as there was a gap of some thirteen rupees. “Did I miss taking money from someone?” thought Bhuno da to himself.

That night Bhuno da kept recollecting the events of the entire day but couldn’t link anything to the gap in collections. Next day he promised himself to be careful. He ensured that the customers handed over the money to him before he would hand over the Paan. He carefully kept the money received from the customers. However, to his surprise, that night again there had been a gap of some eleven rupees.  Bhuno da was surprised again to no ends. In spite of bring so careful he couldn’t understand the reasons for the gap in collection. 

That night again he sat down the stairs that led to the platform to Dhakuria Railway station and continued to look towards the Babu Bagan Lane. From the Babu Bagan Lane side two young boys walking down towards the station, observed Bhuno da sitting silently immersed in some thoughts. Ritwick and Deep Das were regular at Bhuno da’s shop and knew him very well.

“What’s the matter Bhuno da?” asked Deep Das.

Bhuno da explained everything to Ritwick and Deep Das. Even Ritwick was surprised.

“Don’t worry Bhuno da. Tomorrow we will come to your shop and observe whether there are people who just run away without giving you the money?”

Next morning, Ritwick and Deep Das reached Bhuno da’s shop early and got themselves a comfortable place to sit near the shop to watch over the customers.

“Today we will get hold of the bugger who would run without giving the money.” Commented Deep Das in heavy excitement.

The entire day had passed and Ritwick and Deep Das had actually counted all the customers who had come. Everyone had handed over the money. But to the surprise of all three, there was a shortage of seventeen rupees that night. Ritwick and Deep Das were left dumbstruck.

That night Ritwick was immersed in deep thoughts. He recollected the entire events of the day. It seemed as if they had missed something. He looked at his favorite white ceiling which would often give him ideas. That night was no different. There surely had to be something else than a mere gap, thought Ritwick.

Next morning, Ritwick met Deep Das at his house.

“Are we again going to the shop today?” asked an excited Deep Das.

“Of course, we are, and today our modus operandi would be different.”

It was sometime around ten in the morning. Bhuno da had already opened his shop and customers had started to come in.

Ritwick and Deep Das today took a different place to sit. A position which was exactly opposite to the shop. Ritwick had carried with himself a small little mini-binocular which his grandfather had gifted him.

“Are we going to follow the customers today?” asked a confused Deep Das.

Ritwick didn’t answer. He continued to look at the shop with his binocular. There was nothing to be excited until lunch time arrived.

Suddenly, Ritwick had a smile on his face.

“Oh my god, look look what is happening?”

“Koi (where) I am not able to see anything?” questioned Deep Das.

Ritwick handed over the binocular to Deep Das. Deep Das snatched the binocular from Ritwick’s hand and immediately focused on the shop.

As Deep Das looked at the shop, he was indeed dumbstruck. It was an act of genius.

Ritwick and Deep Das had confronted the culprit after about fifteen along with Bhuno da. It surely was something unthinkable.

While Ritwick was observing with his binoculars, he had observed a thick thread coming from the top towards the shop and exactly above the bowl where Bhuno da had kept the coins. The thread held a magnet at the end. The magnet would attract the coins from the bowl to itself. Once some coins were attached to the magnet, the thread would be picked up and after some time it would again come down and take more coins away.

Ritwick was astonished with the brains of the culprit. The culprit was new to the area and sensed an opportunity when he had seen Bhuno da’s shop and especially a shop without a cover. There was six feet wall behind the shop and the culprit would hide behind the wall and slowly release the thread down towards the shop.

Once confronted, Bhuno da recovered all the money from him. He was warned by Bhuno da of not to indulge in such activities in future.

“Thank You, Ritwick, for all your help. It really wouldn’t have been possible without you and Deep Das.”

“But how did you guess that the problem was with the coins and not the printed notes?” asked a curious Bhuno da

“The amount of gap which you had repeatedly observed had been thirteen on day one, eleven on day two and seventeen on day three. All had been odd numbers and I had observed on the third day that everyone had either given coins or notes and the notes didn’t include the one rupee note or two rupees note. So, the gap was due to the coins.”

Deep Das like always had been left speechless with his friend’s sharpness.

 

A Place called Home

 

The year 1850 was one of the best monsoon’s Kent had had in the recent few years. Unlike the other towns of Great Britain, Kent had become one of the many sought after places to live for. The beautiful natural lush green enclave around the town gave a never-ending beauty to the eyes of its inhabitants. The morning was misty with fog due to the continuous drizzling all along the night. The grandfather clock alarm did its routine every morning at the strike of seven, though it hardly affected the occupants of the large house. It was two years since the family was residing at the big house at the corner of the street near the Kent market and the place was a heavenly abode for the family to reside into. With two floors and four bedrooms on each floor, a separate kitchen and a separate dining hall room, it was the first of its kind experience for the members of the family. Two children, a husband and a wife, comprised the beautiful small family.

 Routines of the day would start with the wife getting up from her never ending sleep to wake-up her husband and children for the day. It was followed by the individual commitments each one of them had for the day. The husband was a writer and often used one of the bedrooms as his study in the absence of the occupants. Entire day of the wife passed by cleaning her beautiful home. The children being small, often passed the day in the house under the care of their mother, both would be four next year. This was how time had passed for them for the last two years. A small happy family in their dream home spending quality time and making memories.

 That morning, while the husband was at the window and the wife in the bedroom on the ground floor near the wardrobe cupboard, there was a knock on the front door on the ground floor. Subsequent to which, the bell which hung outside the door was also struck. It seemed as though someone had come to visit them and was at the door. The husband and wife both came out in the dining hall room. The children were in one of the bedrooms. The knock got louder. The wife looked at her husband as the husband looked tensed. The husband walked towards one of the windows which faced the front of the house. Through the transparent pink curtain, the husband looked out. Two gentlemen in black coats, round hats and polished black shoes looked expectantly towards the front door. After some time, the knocks stopped.  The husband could see that the two people after looking around walked away from the house. The rest of the day passed by in routine work. That night, the wife spoke to her husband about the morning visitor. The husband continuously looked at the ceiling without muttering any word.

Next morning, as the wife woke up from sleep, she heard some sound at the dining hall room, a sound of as if, someone turning around the house entry door latch. She ran out. As she came out into the dining room, the door latch opened and four people entered the house. A woman, a man and two children. The wife was shocked to see them. She ran inside and woke her husband up. They both came out and saw the four people that had entered the house while their children were sleeping in the bedroom. They immediately ran towards the ground floor bedroom and got their children out with them. 

“Must be the house owners!” said the husband.

The wife looked perplexed.

“So, we have to find a new house to stay again,” said the wife.

“There’s no other option dear, it seems that they would be staying here.”

The four people who had just entered, sat on the sofa in the dining room. The female among them went into the kitchen and got some water from the kitchen sink area. The four of them looked around at the house.

“It’s in the same condition as we had left it two years ago,” said one of them.

The female looked around the room, “I am unable to remember the exact position of the things, but surely everything seems fine.”

The husband, wife and the children who were standing in the corner looking at the four people, who seemed to be the original owners of the house, looked at each other. It was time for them to leave the house and look for a new one, a house which would be closed and empty but furnished.

This house was one of the best they had resided, big, luxurious and peaceful as it was away from the maddening crowd of the city.

The wife looked at the four people sitting on the sofa and said “Can’t we continue to live here with them?”

The husband looked at her and then at the four of them on the sofa “hmm, yeah, surely we can give it a try, but won’t we be breaking the rules of our world, the world of the dead ones?”

The husband, wife and the children all looked at the four people sitting on the sofa. All had a smirk on their face, a smirk of happiness, happiness of not leaving this beloved house.

The husband often carried in his pocket a local newspaper paper clipping of a three-year-old newspaper which had a small news in a corner of the front page which read “A family of four died after being hit by a truck on the road near the Kent market.”

They all lived happily thereafter, in their own space and in their own worlds, in that very same house!

 

The Forgery - The Detective Boys - Short Story 2

 

Vimal Babu was an ecstatic man when he returned home that evening. It was the first Monday of 1998 and winter was at its peak. Light evening fog had engulfed the lanes of Dhakuria. But all these didn’t matter to Vimal Babu. “What happened grandfather?” asked Ritwick with utmost interest. Vimal Babu had a wooden box in his hand which had a royal appearance.

“You know what this is, Ritwick?” Vimal Babu showed the box in his hand to Ritwick

“Ahh, don’t bother thinking. I will tell you”

“These are vintage Indian One-rupee coins. I got it from an antique collector. I had been looking out for these for a long time.” Vimal Babu opened the box and showed them to Ritwick. They seemed extremely antique and historical. A mere look at those gave goose bumps to Ritwick.

“Can I touch them?” asked Ritwick.

Ritwick took some of the coins in his own hand and observed carefully. He observed that the coins were made of Silver. The reverse of the coins had “East India Company” engraved upon them.

“To which period do these belong, grandfather?”

Vimal Babu took out a piece of paper and looked into it.

“In between 1835 and 1862.”

Ritwick was in awe of the coins. For the next few days, Ritwick would often ask Vimal Babu for the coins to see them. He had even invited Deep Das to his house to show the collection.

“These are terrific, Ritwick!”  Deep Das had remarked upon first seeing them.

 Ritwick  asked his grandfather about the person who had sold him the antiques. Vimal Babu informed that the person had been an antique trader who had a shop in the nearby Gol Park locality.

His name was Roy. People often referred to him as Mr. Roy. Roy was quite famous in and around the Gol Park, Dhakuria and Gariahaat localities for his antique collection as he had regular customers from these areas.

Ritwick couldn’t resist his excitement. He along with Deep Das visited Mr Roy that evening. On arrival at the shop, Ritwick was fascinated looking at Roy’s collections at his small shop.

“Do you have more ancient Indian coins like the ones which you had given to Vimal Babu?”

“Yes, I surely have.” Roy had been happy as it seemed he had more customers.

He showed them some. Ritwick and Deep Das looked at them with outmost of interest.

“To which period do these belong, uncle?” asked Deep Das.

“These belong to the period 1936 to 1938.”

“Ohh, and whose face’s image is engraved on the reverse of this coin?”

Roy looked at it. “Ahh, this is King Edward VIII.”

Ritwick looked at it closely.

“Interesting!” remarked Ritwick casually.

That evening when back home, Ritwick looked at Vimal Babu's coins again. He looked closely at them with the help of his grandfather’s reading lens.

In the night he performed an experiment on the coin which brought Ritwick’s suspicion to reality. He informed about it to Vimal Babu after which Vimal Babu himself was surprised.

Next morning, Vimal Babu, Ritwick and Deep Das went to Mr Roy’s shop.

“I want to return these coins” remarked Vimal Babu to Roy.

“May I ask you, sir, what made you conclude upon this action?”

“These are all fake. These are not the actual antique ones. These are only the forged ones.” Answered Vimal Babu.

“And what makes you say that sir?”

Ritwick couldn’t control more. “I will let you know, uncle.” All this while Deep Das couldn’t really understand anything that had been taking place.

“You see, first of all, the coins which you gave to my grandfather are not the actual ones. Now you would want to know how? You had informed my grandfather that these coins belonged to the period in between 1835 and 1862. Right?”

“Right!” answered Roy.

“It cannot be, Uncle. Do you know about the coinage act of 1835 that was brought in by the East India Company?”

“I have some idea about it,” said Roy.

“Then you will also know that the coins which had been minted from 1835 onwards weighed approximately 11.66 grams.”

Roy was stumped out.

“And your coin weighs 13.50 grams, Mr Roy.”

Deep Das looked at Ritwick in shock. He couldn’t actually believe that the coins were fake ones.

Roy knew he was caught.

All this while, a stranger was standing near Ritwick in the disguise of looking at the collections. He was actually one among the local police. Vimal Babu returned the coins and took back his money. The local police representative took over the questioning as Vimal Babu, Ritwick and Deep Das left. They had brought the local police representative along with them to the shop.

As they walked back, Deep Das looked at Ritwick in confusion.

“How did you know that he was fake?”

Ritwick looked back at Deep Das. “Remember that day when we had gone to that shop and Mr Roy had shown us some coins.”

“Yes, but everything was fine that day, wasn’t it?”

“Mr Roy had said that the face which was engraved on reverse of that coin was of King Edward VIII.”

“Yeah, so?”

“My dear innocent Deep, unlike others, King Edward VIII had never been engraved on any Indian coins minted by British. He had bluffed and thank God I had done my homework before I went to his shop. That bluff made me cautious against Mr Roy, that’s why I checked the coins that night.”

As they walked by the Dhakuria Bridge, Deep Das, like always was  awe struck by his friend, Ritwick.

The Act

 

The odds were always that way, at least in between the two and that’s what the neighbors had always said. “An Unusual Family,” a regular remark which the neighbors often associated the two with. They were always seen as a busy family and never the one to be participating in the colony’s cultural events. Only one of them would once in a blue moon be present, but never together.

The Nakamura’s at Flat no 302 were always like that, at least since the time they had shifted to the small four building colony located on a silent street of the Japanese city of Kyoto. Hiroto Nakamura and Akira Nakamura, that was the name which were written on majority of the documents and even on the name plate of their flat. Never had anyone been inside their flat as both of them were working and were very busy. One had a day job and the other one had a night job and hence would never be together. Other residents perhaps suspected that they were not on talking terms and were living together to avoid unnecessary living costs.   

People who interacted with either one of them never had any complaints but did sense some emotional confusion when interacting with each one at different moments of time.  Both were similar in height and, surprisingly their looks were almost similar, except to the fact that one was a male and the other one was a female. Genetic resemblance or perhaps twins, that’s what was concluded by other residents.

But that day was indeed an unlucky one.  was away on his night shift and in his flat, there took place an accident. It was only two days to the new year and the firecrackers were in full swing. It was one of those rockets that landed inside Hiroto’s house that caused the fire and spread all over the apartment within a short period of time. By the time the fire authorities arrived, the house was burnt down. When Hiroto was informed about the accident, he rushed to the colony and was devastated.

The firemen recovered the fully burnt body of Akira. No one could have looked at the body for more than a second. It would send shivers to even the most courageous ones. The local Investigators had arrived and routine enquiry into the fire casualty begun. The local investigating team sought all the details about Hiroto and Akira and also recorded the statements of the witness to the event that night. It seemed to be a straight and simple case. A rocket accidently causing fire leading to the death of the only resident of the house. The only question that remained to be answered was why didn’t the girl try to escape? Why didn’t she just open the door and run out? Perhaps some part of the clothes must have caught fire which spread to the body. But still going by the statements of the witness they didn’t hear any screaming of any female from that floor. “Someone on fire can only do one thing. Scream!” said one of the investigators.

The post mortem of the dead body was completed subsequently and the investigators reviewed the report to find any inconsistencies which could be assumed as abnormal. The body was burnt and the cause of death was due to burning. There was nothing to be looked into other than only one information. The DNA Match.

Hiroto Nakamura was contacted by the investigators subsequently. There were tests required to be done on Hiroto as procedural formalities to close the case.  But three days later, investigators had a shocking revelation up their sleeve. The DNA of Hiroto and Akira didn’t match and now the case was hung.

It was during that time when a case of a missing dead body was lodged with the local investigators by a local hospital morgue. As per the complainant, the corpse of a girl had gone missing since last one week. The investigators didn’t want to take a chance. Was there a link between the missing dead body case and girl burnt in the fire exactly seven days ago?

Exactly seven days ago, the girl’s dead body had gone missing on that morning and that night in the same area a girl died due to burning and the body wasn’t recognizable.  The Investigators did a DNA matching of the complainant’s family members with the one that was mentioned in Akira’s report. The twist came when the reports matched and the revelation complicated the case to the next level. The investigating team which was about to close the Akira Nakamura accident case suddenly could sense something amiss in the entire story and events.

Hiroto was mapped to locations and was being tailed but there was nothing on him. Every day was the same, Hiroto would start for office, board a rickshaw and then get down in front of the office gate. In the evening he would return in the same manner. On a weekend, when Hiroto had an off, the local investigating team interrogated the security team of Hiroto’s office. This was when it was revealed that no one by the name of Hiroto Nakamura worked at that office. It was high time that Hiroto Nakamura was picked up but the investigators didn’t want to jump the gun. They decided to play the waiting game.

One day when Hiroto was not at home, the investigating team made a forced entry to his new flat which he had taken on rent in the same colony. They inspected each and every thing. Just when things were going nowhere, they found something which they could never have imagined.

Hiroto was contacted and taken into custody. It was indeed a complicated case but joining the various points of the puzzle was the only way forward to solve the case.

Neither was the man Hiroto and nor did he have any sister by the name of Akira. In fact, he didn’t have a sister and there was no actual female in the story. It was all about a wannabe actor. He didn’t have a name because he didn’t have one as he couldn’t recollect who he was. The only thing which he knew was the fact that he was performing. Since childhood, the only thing he did was act. Frustrated that the world couldn’t recognize his talent, he had decided to play the act with the world itself.

Thus, was born Hiroto and Akira. Same person with different personalities. The entire get up and make up was done by Hiroto himself.  He rented a flat and enjoyed his story in the colony in which he resided.

Every time people interacted with him as Hiroto or Akira he enjoyed the moment. It was the triumph for him as an actor. Then he had decided that it was perhaps time to change the story, so he decided to finish off Akira’s character. He needed a dead body and this was when he planned to contact a local hospital clerk who would help him get a dead body and keep it in his flat. Of course, he was the only one who had thrown the rocket in his own house. He made sure that no one was aware of his existence.

The investigating team was shocked. They sensed that it couldn’t have been the first one. Surely the guy must have committed more of such psychopathic acts, guessed the investigators.

Once he had informed about all his misdeeds which he had committed, he had only one thing to say as his final statement on which he signed:

“I am an actor, sir. An actor with no name. I don’t exist anywhere. No one knows me. I always act and everything I say is already written by me, rehearsed by me and then I perform it. I enjoy it.”

“I am an actor, sir!”  

The world never heard of him after that.

Gossip circles said that perhaps he was kept under a close guard in a remote location away from the maddening world…… but many years later someone also said that perhaps, he is still performing somewhere and his best act is yet to come, on the silver screen or outside it, that only time will tell!

 

The above story is a complete work of Fiction.

The Name : The Detective boys - Short story 1

 

It was late at night, may be around two in the night when they heard some sounds from outside. A commotion of some people perhaps trying to take away something. When Vimal Babu got suspicious, he had immediately got up and walked near to the window to peak outside. He could see shadows of two people and one person in body. By the time he raised an alarm, the two shadows ran while the third person could be seen taking away the particular steal for which they had come.

The only thing which Vimal Babu could hear was a voice, “Golok, chol palaa. (Golok, Come on Run)”. Vimal Babu couldn’t have a better view of that person. The only thing which he had known was perhaps a name “Golok”. They had taken away Vimal Babu’s most precious asset, his Bicycle.

Vimal Babu who was a resident of Kolkata since his birth, stayed in one of the houses which was located at Babu Bagan Lane, Dhakuria. He had been a teacher in one of the local schools. Now retired, he took tuition classes at his home. All his life, to commute to the school he had used a Bicycle which his wife had gifted him. The Bicycle was very special to him as not only did it last a life long but he felt an emotional attachment of nostalgic memory whenever he would ride it Though lately, the bicycle was not used much, but the Bicycle had seen better days and Vimal Babu never forgot to clean the bicycle every Sunday morning to make it look as fresh as it had been many years ago. Locals would tell Vimal Babu to sell off the antique so that they could use the space used for accommodating the bicycle for some other purpose. Once news about the theft of the Bicycle reached the neighbours, they visited Vimal babu to console him on his loss. Apart from his son, and daughter in law, Vimal babu also had a Grandson, who was referred to as “Poltu” He was fifteen years old and was studying in the final year of school.

Poltu was sad for the loss of the Bicycle. Priceless memories of his growing up years were attached with it. Though Poltu had consoled Vimal Babu, but he himself was not among the ones to keep quiet on the same. He knew his locality very well and would try to find out the culprit behind it, but the only clue which he had was a name, “Golok”.

Poltu since his growing up years cherished challenges, and if it was in the nature of a puzzle then it would turn out to be the cream over the cake. Poltu loved puzzles and his sharp mind had been tested with unlimited number of puzzles. Though what he was out to achieve was nowhere near a puzzle, but it challenged his investigative mind. Poltu loved asking questions. He was thought by his grandfather that you can learn the best by asking questions and subsequently introspecting the answers.

The year was 1994. There were numerous complains about theft and robbery in the nearby areas and also at Babu Bagan Lane, but those had been about money, jewellery and household accessories. The theft of a bicycle was the first of its kind.

The first thing that a medium heighted and rather healthy Poltu did was that he took a close look at the place of theft to identify any clue or belongings which the robbers may have dropped off. Standing at the spot where the Bicycle once stood, Poltu looked up towards his grandfather’s room’s window. Their house was surrounded by three more houses which had big gates. So, there was a chance that anyone from those houses may have seen anything. Poltu inquired with those houses but couldn’t get any more information. 

Poltu had a childhood friend who resided in the by lane behind their house. His name was Deep Das. They were friends since fifth standard. Though it couldn’t be said that Deep Das had any quality of being an intelligent boy, but he tried his best to match his friend Poltu.

“What would anyone achieve by stealing an old Bicycle which not even a scrap dealer would purchase?” This one question had kept Poltu busy over the next evening.

He wrote down the possible reasons for which a robbery takes place. Money, Jewellery, household items or personal envy. An old bicycle cannot fetch any good money. So, he wrote off all other motives and circled the personal envy point. Poltu didn’t want his grandfather to know that he was silently investigating the theft of the Bicycle.

Poltu was aware of Vimal Babu’s schedule for the last many years. Vimal Babu was majorly busy with his tuition classes and a walk in the park in the morning and in the evening. Apart from this, he hardly went out of the house. So, if there was any personal envy, then it had to be somewhere in the park or, in the tuition classes, thought Poltu.

Over the next few days, Poltu closely watched all the students who came for tuition classes to Vimal Babu. None of them matched the description which Vimal babu had given, though the description had been very sketchy. He had already inquired at the park whether there had been any scuffle involving his grandfather with anyone. So, his last option came down to the students at the tuition classes.

“Perhaps, one of them may have arranged for the robbery,” said a confident Deep Das to Poltu.

“Or perhaps, three of them may have personally carried out the robbery?” said a more confident Poltu.

In the meantime, Poltu gave Deep Das a task of inquiring with the scrap dealers in and around the Dhakuria area about a Bicycle.

Over the next week, Poltu personally spoke to many students from the tuition class on the pretext of some academic subject and tried to get some information. It was only during one of such session, when Poltu came to know that three students had stopped coming to the class.

“Since when?” asked an excited Poltu.

The boy informed that it was since some days that those three students had stopped coming. The boy further informed that Vimal Babu was not happy with their academic performance and had complained to their parents.

Poltu had a sweet smile on his face. He noted down the names of the students. Hiren Kumar Roy, Ashish Chaudhary and Omung Gupta. To his disappointment, there was no Golok in those names.

That night Poltu looked at the ceiling and was in deep thought. After continuously thinking deeply, suddenly he sat up and had a smile on his face.

Next day, Poltu and Deep Das went to the local school which was located near Dhakuria Railway station. The three boys studied at that school in the tenth standard. Both of them waited near an ice cream selling shop. As the last class got over, the school bell rang. This alerted Poltu and Deep Das. As they waited, the three students came out. It seemed that the three of them were good friends. As they started to walk, Poltu and Deep Das started to follow them. It was afternoon around 3.30 and in the by lane where they were walking was almost deserted.

Poltu asked Deep Das to do one act while he hid behind the nearby building pillar.

Deep Das shouted in a loud voice “Ae Golok,”. As he shouted, Hiren Kumar Roy turned around to find Deep Das. Poltu finally had a smile on face. So that night the third person who took the Bicycle away was Hiren Kumar Roy and two others were his friends.

Poltu didn’t go to the police. Rather he straight went to Hiren’s house and told the entire chain of events to Hiren’s parents. Hiren’s parents were enraged. Hiren finally revealed where he had hidden the Bicycle.

 That Night the old Bicycle stood its ground and Vimal Babu was a happy man.

“How did you guess that those three were behind the act?” asked a confused Deep Das.

“Initially when I came to know their names, I was disappointed as there was no Golok. But after giving a thought, I actually took me own example. Everyone knows me by my “daak naam” (unofficial) name, Poltu, while my actual name is Shoumik. So, it wasn’t difficult for me to guess that Golok was a pet name and not the actual name. In Kolkata everyone has two names, one is the “daak naam” i.e... unofficial name and the other one their actual registered named.”

Deep Das could only look at Poltu with wide open eyes.

Poltu looked at Deep and said “Stop staring with those bog eyes, we have more cases to solve dear.”