The red-eyed monster

A series of murders against young and innocent's women put in check the police and the society. Without clues or any links to lead the police to the whereabouts of this cruel monster, can Hinata Hyuga be saved in time before her name join the list of the victims of the so call red-eyed demon?

Disclaimer: Naruto and its characters don't belong to me, but Masashi Kishimoto.

Sorry for my english, it's the first time I write in english. I beg your pardon for my grammar errors.

Warnings, messages and other things

Hello to everyone.

1) I want to thank all the people who have been writing reviews, liking the story and following it. It's thanks to all you people that I find the will to continue this story, to put my lazy brain to work in new ideas. As you'll see when you finished reading, the story its heading to its final. After fifteen chapters I've considered it's time to wrap this up, to reveal who is the red-eyed monster (even though it's quite obvious who he is) and to let you know if Hinata is going to survive or die (I laughing maniacally while writting this, rubbing my hands like a mastermind).

2) I want to (once again) apologize for the delay of this chapter. Recently I moved to the United States (I don't know if you know, but I've been living in Venezuela, a beautiful but decayed country, took by some of the most obnoxious, f***ing people, how I hate them; visit Venezuela if you can, when the situation gets better, you won't regret it), and between trying to get used to being here and my work, I haven't find time to write. I've taken advantage of the situation the entire World if expericing right now to sit down before my computer and put my words into the "paper". So, talking about common misfortunes, wash your hands, don't touch your face and take care of your health.

3) Talking about warnings:

- First, this had been one of the longest chapters I've written so far (I guess), so I hope you don't lose your awarness while reading (if you want to read it by parts, it's OK for me - I did the same while checking it).

- Second, there's a lot of swearing and allusion to sex (without being descriptive), so I'm sorry if this offend you.

- Third, and this is the most important. Maybe it doesn't seem like it because of how the chapter begins, but it have a very strong part at the end that could disturb you, so if you want to skip it, it's fine. I didn't put a warning to let you know when it begins and where it ends because I considered it's important for the story, but it doesn't change your experience by reading it or not, only increases your knowledge of what is going on with certain character.

- Fourth. I want to warn that this chapter doesn't evolve around Naruto and Hinata (even though what happens concern the two). I've written it around a character of my own, and which has appeared in other occasions: David Craig, the detective, so maybe some of you aren't going to like much this chapter; but if you read it, you will understand the reason of this. Please don't get mad.

- And fifth, the female character that is in this chapter it's NOT a Mary Sue. Thank you!

With all this being said, enjoyed the chapter!

Chapter XV

The doors of the lavish elevator opened ahead of David Craig, at the same time the detective pondered of how volatile and changeable were human's emotions and memories.

Taking some steps through the beautifully lit (by the winter Sun) aisle, he allowed himself some time to wonder, or rather remembered, about the event that had changed his life when Neji Hyuga and Naruto Uzumaki had knocked on his door to ask for his help for to expose Krupal Randhawa, and to rescue Hinata Hyuga from his grasp.

In spite of the time that had passed – three weeks -, Craig still remembered, as if it had happened the day before, his meeting with the two men; but he was not as sure about if he had chosen the correct impression Neji Hyuga and his companion had left in him. In that moment, either by the alcohol, which was yet affecting his body; by the strong desire of to unmask Krupal Randhawa as he was, the red-eyed killer, and, in this way, to avenge Alice; or because of the happiness to know he was going to be granted with the help he had been asking for so long, Craig was not sure if when he had taken the Hyuga as a genius, his judgment had not been clouded by his feelings.

"I intend to reveal everything, to reach the very bottom of the truth. I'm going to hire some first-class hackers I trust. I'll contract any necessary resources. I asked my lawyers to help me to make this all look as legal as it can be, so no one could take down our findings. And I hope, as well, to count with your participation, detective. I've a very large amount of money; and I'll use as much as I need to success in this venture."

And he could not say that, after all, everything that had come out the Hyuga's mouth had not sounded intelligent; but, while he was working in the red-eyed monster investigation, had not he done something quite similar as what the man had described? Craig had not used resources such as hacking; but with the few clues with which he had counted and his cleverness, he had looked back and forth, finding nothing that could help him to arrest the killer. The detective had worked with all the tools within his grasp, but Krupal Randhawa had fooled him and had escaped prison.

Why, this time, Neji Hyuga was going to seize the victory where he could not have?

Maybe that was the question, between many others he was asking himself, which was making him doubted if he better did not turn around and leave the place before he could put into motion an avalanche of events that could lead him, once more, to a failure. But instead of following his fear, Craig stood there, seeing with intensity the floor under his second-handed dress shoes.

Ahead of him was a door, a door through which he had promised to go into; and David, in spite of what he was feeling, was willing to fulfill his promise. Taking a deep breath, he moved forward.

"Finally you're here", Neji Hyuga said to him after opening his home's door for the detective. "I thought you had regretted coming here… Come inside! Come inside!" he added with impatient. "Everyone has arrived already."

David nodded, feeling quite ashamed, as a little kid scolded by his mother.

While following Neji inside the house and through its depths, the detective was feeling a little nervous, but as he advanced far into the Hyuga's home, his nervousness was quickly changed by amazement. The environment which surrounded him was the reason of such swap of behavior.

The place Neji Hyuga called home was one of that rich, high-tech loft that was lately so popular between the millionaires. Every room through which the detective walked was painted in a charming, light cream color. Resting in an intricate design parquet floor, raised sturdies, clear oak tables, in which where frames with pictures of his family, various-topic magazines, piece of art and tall vases with the most exotic vegetation the detective had ever seen. Expensive rugs and portraits decorated every room. When he reached his destiny, Craig took a moment to marvel with the high-wide window that covered the entire structure of one wall, giving, through it, one of the most beautiful sights of the city the detective he had seen so far.

The room in which he had arrived was a kind of reunion room, with one big picture in the opposite wall to the window, some tables with decoration, a comfy, rounded white couch and a coffee table, filled, in that moment, with glasses, cups, two high-tech computers and a projector. In it, beside the Hyuga and himself, were reunited seven people.

One of the people gathered there was known for the detective. Craig shook Naruto Uzumaki's hand with enthusiasm when the blond approached him.

Joining him were two persons, a woman and a man. The young girl was very beautiful with her short pink hair and glowing pale green eyes. The young man had a body attitude that denoted coldness and seriousness. With his black eyes, he saw the detective with contempt.

"These are my friends, Sakura Haruno and Sasuke Uchiha", Naruto said.

David shook Sakura's hand with a smile on his face; but when it came Sasuke's turn, the detective did not know who of the two had seen the other colder.

Craig was not having such behavior towards the other man because of his cold attitude (well, in part – like fifty percent -, it was because of that). He did not have a prejudice for the black-eyed young man, but rather for the family clan he represented.

As a former member of the police forces, he knew everything that had to be known about the Uchiha clan. Maybe the powerful family was the reason why the region was so prosperous. Maybe they were big investors; and the majority of the citizens had work thanks to them. But Craig knew better. The Uchiha were not angels. They thought the city belonged to them and they could behave as they please without fearing the law; and for the detective, a man who put justice before anything, to know a member of the despicable clan was more than he could bear.

But before he could show his displeasure, Neji called him so he could meet the other persons gather there.

The first one he met was a man with an imposing appearance, more than anything for his superiority and intelligent air than for his physical complexion. With certain delicate features, and clearly of Asian genealogy, the man observed him with black eyes that transmitted efficiency behind a pair of modern glasses. He was wearing a rather informal outfit, white shirt under a knitted grey sweater, dark jeans and dress shoes. The detective learned that his name was Jian Wang. Neji told him he was his coworker, as well as one of his lawyers.

Then he met two brothers, a young man and a young woman, that the Hyuga told him were the hackers. Both young had the aspect of what Craig liked to call "the misguided youth of these days". The two had that expression in their face as if they knew everything about how the world works. Both were thin, dark skin (they were probably foreigners), and their election of clothes showed to the detective that they really could not care less about what the people could think about them.

The young man had short, fluorescent green hair, a piercing in the right-upper part of his forehead and his eyes were outlined with black mascara. He was wearing a black sweater that reached his knees, black pants affixed to his legs like sticks and big red sneakers. The young woman had a dark pink wig over her head, a very ornate make-up on her face, and was only wearing a giant white sweater, with silver and pink inscriptions, and big dark high-heel boots, that covered her thin legs. She was chewing gum; and when she saw the detective, she observed him with such flirtatious interest that Craig felt tense.

Jayden and Akemi, the brother's names, said hello and then began talking of hacking stuff, like how vulnerable was Internet, how easy was to decode even the safest sites, and other informatics jazz the detective found incomprehensible.

The last person David met was a woman. She was truly beautiful, a real American beauty, with long blond hair and mesmerizing grayish blue eyes. The woman was impeccably dress, with a red sweater and white pants that fitted her perfectly. She saluted the detective by shaking his hand; and by the way she had greeted him, and her tone of voice when she said her name, Theresa, Craig noted that she was a clever woman. She was another of Neji's lawyers.

After he had met all the people gathered in the room, one of the maids under the Hyuga's orders asked him if he wanted to drink something.

"Coffee will be fine", he said.

The maid nodded; and while Craig waited to be served, Jayden and Akemi had grabbed, from behind the couch, a white, wide screen, which, with Jidan's help, they settled in front of the projector. Done this, Akemi came close to one of the computers and connect it to the image machine.

The maid put in front of him a tray with the cup of coffee at the same time Akemi typed quickly in the computer and Jayden, taking place in front of the screen, clear his throat.

The detective saw Neji taking a control remoter, and, by pressing a button, he closed with it the window with a heavy, rectangular dark screen. Then Jayden began to speak; and as he talked, David felt surprised. In spite of what he believed of Jayden, he had to confess to himself that he was very well-speak. The detective thought that if the young man wanted, with what he knew to do and how good he spoke, he could find a very suit job.

"As everyone here knows, Mr. Neji Hyuga contacted my sister and me to find out any type of information we could discover about this man, Krupal Randhawa."

As he was speaking, in the screen had appeared Krupal Randhawa's personal information, that same one the detective had read so many times to try to uncover the truth behind him. When he saw the features of the man he had declared his enemy, Craig felt rage boiling in his chest.

"Name: Krupal Aditya Randhawa. Date of birth: April 9, 1977. 36 years-old. Born in India. Address", Jayden said Randhawa's address. "As you can see in this man's record, Krupal Randhawa came into the United States when he was three years-old, traveling with his parents, Madhavaditya and Ananya Randhawa. Both were doctors, he as surgeon and she as a pediatric. Following his father and mother steps, Randhawa studied to be a forensic. After graduating from college, he completely disappeared (Akemi and I tracked him, but we found out nothing about his whereabouts); reappearing two years later in this city. Here he met with an old acquainted, doctor August Blunt, who offered him a job in the university he was hired to work. Now Randhawa is working as his assistant. No wife, neither children. His criminal records was clean until three months before, when he was arrested under the suspicion of being the red-eyed killer by David Craig", Jayden finished, pointing towards the detective.

For some minutes, eight pair of eyes saw him when Jayden said his name.

Akemi typed again on the keyboard, and another image appeared in the white screen. In it was shown a new picture, which depicted the information the brothers had compiled so far about Randhawa.

As Jayden had said, there was not much information about the life the red-eyed man had lived since the moment he left college to two years before, when he moved to the city: no living place registered under his name, no recorded expenses with credit card; no a thing, as if Randhawa had never existed. It was as the earth had swallowed him up and had made him appear years later in the town. And that aspect of his life was what irritated Craig the most. How Randhawa had managed to erase all tracks of his whereabouts? It looked like he had done such thing on purpose.

"We looked in any place and Internet site that we could think about", Jayden continued. "Social networks, states records, even in other countries. We searched in the police database, in hospitals, realtor's archives (to look if any if one had sold a house to Randhawa), phone lines files, bank accounts – everything! -, but we didn't find further information concerning him, something that could tell us something about his past. Well, until Akemi found out this."

After her brother mentioned her name, the young woman pressed a key in the computer, and the image in the screen changed. Seeing what was exposed in front of him, Craig suddenly felt as if the oxygen was not reaching his lungs.

The picture was another personal information sheet. And that record had also been issued for Krupal Randhawa, but that Randhawa was not the same man he knew.

Maybe the name that had been written in the sheet was Krupal Randhawa, but that man definitely was not the one he was familiar to. Their birth days were not the same; both men had different address.

But, even though their differences, their similarities were so amazing that by no mean they could be real. The faces of both men had certain features that made them quite alike, as if there were a familiar bond between the two. But such theory came to nothing as soon as one saw the name of their parents; their backgrounds. They were the same. And that was not the only match. Both men had red eyes.

The detective could not believe what he was seeing. What were the probabilities that two different persons, in appearance, had such similar life? Could it even be possible? The news was making him felt confused and disorientated.

"Akemi didn't only find this", Jayden said. "She also discovered a disappearance report for this Randhawa. The person who made the denounced to the police was a bar owner. It looks like Randhawa was one of his regular clients, and after some days without coming to the bar, the man considered it was time to talk with the law."

"And, the same as the other Krupal, this one is also a mystery", Akemi added. "There is nothing in Internet about his life. I can bet someone made him disappeared from history."

The brothers kept silent, letting that the information they had given settled in each one of the reunited there.

Craig was still in shock. The more he looked at the second Krupal Randhawa's personal information and remembered the statement that he himself had written about the other Randhawa, the weirder he felt. He repeated once more in his mind that what was happening could not be possible. It was illogical. It was infeasible. Even though his head was trying to say to him that he must accept what he now knew as true, he could not accept it.

Could it be acceptable that two different persons had so much in common, such incomprehensible similarities? Something strange was occurring there, something obscure and surreptitious.

"We need to investigate more about this second Krupal Randhawa", Neji pondered.

Jayden and Akemi said that the information they had provided had been all they had been able to find out, and even Craig saw them seeing each other with apprehension. But even though, they promised to consult once more their information sources to see if they could obtain any more news.

The hacker brothers picked up their stuff and left the place.

Neji asked the detective to stay for lunch; and while the domestics made the food, the people that were still in the reunion room took a seat in the rounded sofa, with beverages and snacks in the coffee table in front of them. Some of his companions lighted their cigarettes, and the detective joined them smoking one of his own.

"What we do now?" Naruto, who was seated with his friend, Sakura, in a place where the smoke could not reach him, asked.

"We have now more information than before", Neji said. "We now know that something rare is behind the Randhawa we are familiar with. Am I the only one who thinks there is something rotten in all this? Am I the only one who considers that Randhawa is the one who made possible this 'lack' of information about his past?"

The people in the room, including Craig, denied in silence.

It was quite common that two persons had the same name, but that they had the same background and similar features without being family, and in such way that one could be confused with the other? No, that was impossible.

The coincidences were too much to accept them. The only way such possibility could be real it was that one of them were an impostor…

The detective let his companions known his idea.

"We need to investigate more about this second Krupal Randhawa", Neji repeated what he had said moments ago to the hacker brothers.

"If we want to discover more about the second Randhawa, first we must find out where is he", Sasuke Uchiha said coldly, as if he had said something obvious and all the assembled there were stupid for not thinking about it before. "We know he disappeared. Maybe he was kidnapped, and now he's dead. If the body is discover, we could look for his DNA or fingerprints, ascertain his identity and compare it with the DNA or fingerprints of the Randhawa we know. I guess you took both when you arrested him", he added, eyeing David.

Craig nodded, not only to confirm Sasuke's suspicion, but also to show that he was of the same young man's idea.

"This can be a good plan", he said. "If we compared the two Randhawa's DNA and they don't coincide…"

"We'll know that the Randhawa we're familiar with is the impostor", Naruto ended for him, with a decisive look in his blue eyes.

"Or that the other Randhawa is the false one, and the man we know is the real Randhawa", Sasuke added with disdain.

The detective felt irritated by the Uchiha's attitude, but he must admit that he was right. That matter was so mysterious that neither of the reunited there could say for sure if the Randhawa they knew was not the real one and the second was the deceiver.

But if he, and the others, wanted to continue their business, they must have faith in that the one they knew was not the true one. If they wished to pursue their common objective, then the second Randhawa ought to be found; and the only way that could happen was if someone would look for the man, someone that could look for the tracks left by him.

Someone like David…

The detective realized Neji was seeing him with renewed interest.

"Detective", he said, "when Naruto and I went to your house, I told you we'd need your expertise…"

"And I remember I said to you that I was only interested in helping you as long as I could capture Krupal Randhawa for being the red-eyed monster…"

The Hyuga smiled with an intelligent grin, and opened his arms widely, as if he was encompassing everything that had happened so far in that room.

"I'm guessing that, if that is the case, you're going to find enough motivation to take upon this investigation. You're not only helping me and Hinata, but also yourself. If you can unveil the mystery behind Krupal Randhawa, I can bet you're going to have an important clue to reveal who is the murderer. What do you say, detective? If this isn't enough incentive for you, I'm going to pay you a good amount of money for your service."

Craig smiled.

"I don't doubt you're going to pay me well; but there isn't enough money in the world to buy the minds and hearts of the people with which I'm going to work while being in the city where the second Randhawa disappeared. No one will accept to work with the detective who couldn't arrest the red-eyed killer."

"Maybe that's true", Neji accepted. "Maybe there isn't enough money in the world to buy such amount of consciences; but here are enough good lawyers to help you to convince those people. Isn't that, Theresa?"

The woman nodded, smiling.

"It's going to be a pleasure to help you, Mr. Craig", she said.

David did all he could to hide the embarrassment her smile was causing in him.

"Why I have the feeling the two of you had thought of all this long before this reunion?" he said.

Both lawyer and the house owner smiled.

"What do you say, detective?" Neji asked again.

Craig saw around him, to the faces of the gathered there. All were looking at him with intensity, like trying to convince him to agree the Hyuga's offer; from Naruto, who was seeing him with hope in his blue eyes, to Sasuke, who was watching him like he wanted to say to him that he was an idiot if he did not accept.

Finally, sighing, he said:

"I'll do everything in my power, but I don't promise anything."

Neji, Theresa and Naruto, as well as some of the people there, smiled.

The food was served minutes later; and even though the meal was quite delicious, Craig did not enjoy it as much as he would like. He could not stop thinking about the two Randhawa and in the mystery that made possible their existence.

After eating, Naruto and his friends said goodbye and left the place. Jian and Theresa retired as well.

When he was almost going to leave, Neji stopped him and said:

"Expect me to reach you soon. I'm going to buy you a plane or train ticket to the city where the second Randhawa disappeared. And I'll transfer some money to your banking account, for anything you need for the next days."

"It isn't necessary…" the detective murmured with stubbornness.

"C'mon Craig! Don't be like that! You know as well as me you need the cash. It has been three months since the last time you earned some money."

The detective had to confess to himself that, after all, the Hyuga was right. He did not have so much money in his bank; and there was a good amount of bills he had to pay soon. He really needed the deposit.

So he nodded; and thanked his host for receiving him in his home.

That night, when he went to bed, he could not sleep. Between his recurring nightmares, in where the protagonist was the red-eyed monster (AKA Krupal Randhawa), and what had been said and what had been concluded in the reunion, he could not rest easy. He could not stop thinking and thinking. The idea that there were not one, but two Randhawa, was making him feel apprehension. How could that be possible? Knowing as he thought he known his enemy, could he reveal the mystery surrounding both of them?

Two days later, through which he had endured his fears and worries, Neji contacted him. As he had told him in his house, the man had made a transfer (the amount of money left the detective impressed) to his bank account; and, as well, he had send him via e-mail the train ticket he had bought for him, for the next morning.

The Hyuga also had said that he did not have to worry for clothes or a place to stay while being in the other city since he was going to take care of everything. Craig could not help but feel a little ashamed, and also a bit angry, by this; and either could not hold the scornful murmur that he could take care of himself.

Since David did not have much time to prepared (less than 24-hours), he get to work. He paid his bills, checked his resume, and (in spite of what Neji told him) put his few belongings in an age-worn suitcase. He also ensured the windows and the main door of his house, not wanting someone to enter his home (especially some orange-haired, red-eyed man) during his absent.

The next day, when the Sun was still coming out in the horizon, the detective went to the train station.

In spite of the early of the day, the station was crowded with people who departed and arrived from and to every part of the country. Standing there, with his haggard eyes for the lack of sleep and the clothes that had seen better days, Craig felt like an ant in a cage fill with elephants; and the remembrance of the person he had said good-bye the last December in that same station was not making him feel better at all.

Alice, his cherished Alice. It had been there the last time he had seen her before the red-eyed killer had taken her life. He still remembered her waving from the platform as his train departed to his parent's house, where he was going to spend the Christmas holiday, with a big smiled on her face and her lovely eyes filled with happiness.

And now she was dead. Now she was gone forever…

"Hey! Detective Craig!"

David woke up from the valley of remembrances and searched for the person who had called him.

"You!" he exclaimed.

By his side, as beautiful as the first time he had seen her, was standing Theresa, Neji's lawyer. With his blond hair tied up in a ponytail and in an unfit, for the cold weather, knee-long dress, she was before him with a friendly smile on her greyish blue eyes. She was carrying two heavy luggage, and the detective offered to help her with them.

"Oh, thank you!" she said.

"What are you doing here?" he said, biting.

"I'm going to accompany you, of course! Did not Neji tell you?"

The detective tried to calm down. That if Neji had told him she was coming with him in his trip? Of course not! Why the secret? What about with all that of "we help each other" if the Hyuga thought he could work behind his back? Did the millionaire man believe he was his employee, that he must obey him?!

Like she had presaged the thoughts going through his head, she said:

"Neji and I considered it was the best for this business if I would accompany you. This is the first time you go to this destination (the city where the second Randhawa disappeared), but isn't the same for me. I'm more acquainted with the place; and I'll help you travel through it. And remember that now I'm also your lawyer, and I need to be with you if anything happens. Neji wants me to supervise first-handed how is everything going; so I'm not only working for him, I'm also working for you!"

Of course, Craig thought with mischief, that the Hyuga wanted to have someone in site that could keep him informed of every one of his discoveries! He was, after all, wagering his money and his cousin's safe. But what about him? Was not it that they were partners? The detective was not working for him, so there was not reason he should obey his plan! Nothing stopped him to say to the lawyer to pick up her stuff and left the place immediately, that he did not need her and her boss sniffing around his work!

But he did not do so. Calming down, telling himself that he was being mean and paranoid, he nodded, agreeing with the woman's company, and everything she had said.

"Shall we going to the train? It's about to departure…" he said with a smile, but which looked more like a wince.

Theresa nodded enthusiastically, and David and she went to the vehicle.

Craig had known some many people as Neji, rich guys who think they can buy everything in the world, that he did not feel surprised when he saw the richness of their compartment (because not only Theresa was travelling with him, but she was sharing his cubicle!) It did not amazed him the exquisite dark wood with which the place was decorated, neither stunned him the wonderful gold decorations, nor astounded him the opulent fabrics with what were made the curtains and the chairs cushions, and either shocked him how comfortable felt one of the seats against his body. But he could not stop his surprise when a beautiful blond steward came into the compartment to ask them if they wanted champagne.

"Yes", Theresa said before he could tell anything. "We want the bottle in an ice bucket and two glasses. We're also interested in having some breakfast."

The steward nodded and said she was going to bring the champagne and the breakfast menu.

"I hope you're hungry, because I'm starving!" she said to him. "Have you eaten here before?"

"No. This is the first time I'm in a first-class anything."

Theresa laughed, as if she had found David's bad joke profoundly funny.

"So, in that case, let me pick the menu. I promise you're not going to feel disappointed."

At the same moment the train began the move, the steward brought the champagne and the two champagne glasses. She gave Theresa some time to choose what the detective and she were going to eat; and after she left, the lawyer opened the bottle, served the glasses and handled one to the detective.

"To our venture, so it end successfully and we can find out who is the real Krupal Randhawa", she said, raising her glass.

Craig toasted with her.

Some minutes later the breakfast was served. Craig had eggs (the best one he had eaten so far), toast and black coffee; and while he was eating, he saw outside, to the city, that passed by and lost in the horizon.

While enjoying their meal, Theresa did not stop asking him questions. How much time he had being working as a detective? What were the names of his parents? Where he had studied? Had he always wanted to be a police? What was he was planning to do after achieving his goal, to capture the red-eyed killer? David felt suffocated under such questionnaire.

"Is this all necessary?" he asked the woman in front of him, feeling uncomfortable.

"If I'm going to be your lawyer, I must know everything I could about you."

"I guess you have a point", he sighed.

Maybe she had a point, as he said, but that did mean he did like it!

After finishing with their meals, the steward came to pick up the tableware.

When she disappeared from the room, Theresa extended one hand toward him and said:

"Your phone, please."

Feeling apprehension, Craig shook his head; but under the lawyer's insistence, he gave her his smartphone.

She put the phone aside, at her reach, and from a big purse she drew a high-tech notebook computer and what looked like a brand-new smartphone.

"These are for you", she said. "Jayden and Akemi gifts. Both are of cutting-edge technology, and they've been modified by the brothers to be unbreakable. No one would be able to hack them, even if they try. My phone number is in yours. I've yours, too."

The detective grabbed both objects, frowning.

"But I have my own phone… I don't need a new one… The telephone numbers of my friends and acquainted are in there…" he murmured.

"I know, but the one I gave you is much safer. And don't worry about the numbers, Jayden and Craig put them all in your new phone."

"How they…?" Craig said, feeling a bit irritated.

"They're hackers, of course!" Theresa answered as if the brother's activities were something normal and acceptable. "Consider it like this", she added. "If they could hack your phone, and they're friends, who else couldn't do the same?"

He sighed once more.

"Again, I guess you have a point", the detective said, giving up.

Theresa smiled.

"And, another thing", she spoke again, but this time in low voice, as if she was telling a secret, "I don't know if it necessary telling you this, but Neji asked me to tell you to not let any stranger know what we're doing and what we're looking for. Do you understand me? Don't speak with anyone, not even with someone you trust, about the second Randhawa and the mystery we're trying to resolve. Am I making myself clear?"

"Very clear. But if I find the second Randhawa, there's going to be a DNA screening and I won't be the one who is going to study it", he said, pointing something obvious.

"I know that!" she answered frowning, putting on a cute angry face. "We'll think about something when the time comes."

Craig smiled. He could bet that "solution" implied cash, a lot of cash. "I've a very large amount of money; and I'll use as much as I need to success in this venture", Neji Hyuga had said. David was sure the man was not afraid to say good-bye to some of his millions to obtain a good result in what he was pursuing.

After that, no one of the two spoke. Theresa had been reading a magazine, and now was profoundly slept, with her head against one of the corners of the sofa she was occupying. Craig tried to entertain his mind with a book or the crossword on the train's paper, but he could not concentrate. Neither he was able to sleep. He was too nervous to relax, too anxious about the affair he was going to undertake. Was he going to be able to find the second Randhawa? Was not the Krupal he knew going to appear suddenly in front of him to stop him and to make him pay for daring to discover his secret? Was not he walking straight into the lion's den by going to where the second Randhawa had vanished?

Those questions did not leave his mind even when he reached his destiny.

While walking with the woman, Theresa asked if something what was happening to him, but he did not answer. However, it was not necessary for him told her what was going on in his mind, because it looked like to the detective that she had read his mind when she said:

"There's not need to worry, you know? Everything is going to be fine. Neji and I trust in your investigator's skills, and you must do the same. I'll be at your side, helping you in anything you need."

Craig could not hold his blush. Once he recovered, he thanked the woman for her encourage words, and promised to her he was going to do everything he could to discover the truth.

The sky was getting dark blue when the lawyer and he took a taxi. As Craig as learned, Neji had arranged for him a room in the same hotel Theresa was staying. By now he was so used to her company that he did not complain about such causality, even though one part of him felt hurt. If the Hyuga and he were going to play in the same team, at least the brown-haired man should tell him what he was planning, moreover when it concerned the detective.

He shared his opinion with his companion, and Theresa nodded.

"You're right. I'd also be angry if someone would take a decision for me without consulting me first. I'm going to talk with him, alright?"

The hotel, in where he was going to stay throughout the investigation, was really spectacular. Marble floors, exquisitely painted walls, crystal chandeliers, expensive decorations, all shining like there was some kind of power coming from them. The entire building screamed: "The only way you can afford all these if you are very, very, very, very rich".

Craig was feeling stunned and belittled, not only by what surrounded him, but also by the way the people gathered there and the staff looked at him, like saying: "You do not belong here"; but before he could do or say anything, Theresa took him by the arm and dragged him to the counter, where one of the clerks attended her. She gave their IDs and her credit card to the employee, and moments later they received their room keys.

"Shall we have some dinner?" she asked him while a bellboy took their suitcases to carry them to their bedrooms.

After having a dinner of creamy chicken soup with herbs, Angelo pasta with wild mushroom and blackberries and white wine (once more Theresa selected the menu), both said good-bye and went to their rooms.

Craig bedroom was a big one, with an enormous, luxury bathroom, a king side bed, a wide modern TV in front of it, a two places-sofa, a personal kitchen and refrigerator. When he entered the room, he found another suitcase, besides the one he had brought. He opened it to see that it was filled with the most exquisite clothes and shoes he had ever seen. In one of the sides of the luggage was attached a message. "You can keep them", it was written in it. He bet the handwriting belonged to Neji.

He put the suitcase aside and walked to the end of the room, where was a giant window, covered by curtains. He opened the draperies to see the city beyond it and marveled himself with the image that went through his eyes. Without stop looking, he took a seat in the window ledge, grabbed the pack of cigarettes of his jacket pocket and lighted one. While seeing the world at his feet, he wished he could have some sleep that night.

The next morning, when he got out of his room, Theresa was waiting for him in the hotel's drawing room with a disposable coffee cup and a smile on her face. David tried to return the salute, but he was feeling too tired.

"Good morning, Mr. Craig!" she said, while handing him the cup. "Ready for today?"

The detective asked himself, with sarcasm, if the woman was seeing his face while asking that question.

"As ready as I can be", he answered.

She hit in a friendly way his shoulder, and Craig surprised by how much it had pained him.

"Excellent!" she said. "But first…"

The detective took some steps backwards when she tried to reach his face.

"What are you doing?!" he asked, frowning.

"I just want to apply some make-up to those", Theresa said, pointing at his eye bags. "I bet you don't want the local chief of police to see you like that, am I wrong? So do me a favor and seat down so I can fix your eyes."

David, reluctantly, consented the woman's request.

A hard cold gust blew him as the detective and Theresa left the hotel for their meeting. A car was waiting for them in the entrance; and when the woman and he crossed the sliding doors, one of the inn's chauffeurs gave Theresa the key of the vehicle. Craig and the lawyer got in the automobile; and while she drove, he drank his coffee, seeing at the same time through the car's window, preparing mentally for the encounter with the local chief of police.

As David had predicted, his reputation as the policeman who could not catch hold of the red-eyed monster was known even in that police station. The chief of police, a heavy man with an untidy mustache over a greasy face and pitch black eyes, made fun of Craig when Theresa said he had come to the town to help him in the commissariat.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" he laughed, his big stomach hitting his desk. "The hell, no! At least if I want all the feminine population of here to die! Do you really think a loser police like you", he pointed to Craig, "can do me any favor? HAHAHAHAHA! If the red-eyed demon was my case, I'd have captured him already!"

The detective frowned, feeling quite angry. Did that stupid man really think the red-eyed killer was so easy to take down? Did he really consider, with his greasy face and round body, that he could put Krupal Randhawa in jail? Oh, he was going to give him a piece of his mind!

But before he could do anything, Theresa grabbed his hand and looked askance at him, warning him, by the way she was seeing him, to not do something stupid. Craig kept silent, feeling a little ashamed.

The lawyer, then, began to talk. She did not waste time to stultify the chief of police.

"Mr. David Craig is one of the most prominent detectives in our hometown city. You can ask if you want, but I can bet everyone with whom you could speak will tell you how worthy the detective is. Maybe he couldn't capture the red-eyed monster, but have the new investigators in charge of the case been able to success where Mr. Craig couldn't? As far as I know, the demon is still at large, free to do as he pleases, with no fear to be behind bars in the near future. And do you really think you can catch hold of the killer? Don't make me laugh! I investigated the criminal situation here, and this is one of the most dangerous places in the United States! Robberies, murders, kidnappings! And do you really think you can do a better job than Mr. Craig?"

Theresa had spoken so harsh that not only the chief of police felt intimidated, but also Craig.

"Look", she continued, calmly, "don't hire Mr. Craig because I told you, but because you're going to have an amazing allied in him. Mr. Craig isn't looking for regain his good name. He only wants to work, to have the possibility to help others in what he does best, being a police officer. As his lawyer, I speak up for him. If this doesn't work, you can fire him."

The chief of police took some moments to consider the offer. Theresa had given him David's resume, as well as several recommendation letters his former boss had written, which the man read unwillingly.

Finally he asked:

"If I say yes to your request, what is your detective going to do here? Because I don't think I really need his services…"

Theresa and David saw each other with intensity, and both nodded before she answered:

"The detective and I agree that he can work in the unresolved old cases."

Last night, while they were having dinner, Craig and she had discussed about the best way to unveil the two Randhawa's mystery. The detective had though that, given the time – the second Randhawa's disappearance had occurred four years ago -, and the vagueness surrounding him, no one had discovered the man's whereabouts and had found out what had happened with him. If they wanted to know where the second Randhawa was, and to collate his identity with his namesake, they must look for him in the unresolved investigations.

But, true to his mean attitude, the chief of police laughed and said that in his commissariat there were not "unsolved cases".

This time Craig could not hold himself.

Smiling sarcastically, he said, mockingly:

"I doubt there aren't unresolved investigations in your archives. If every police station has this problem, what makes yours so special to lack of it? As my lawyer has said, it isn't like your people here are doing a great job if there is so much criminality in this city. If you can't hold at bay the lawbreakers, how you don't have any unsolved cases?"

The fatty chief of police's face got red for the anger.

Moments later, when he and his companion abandoned the station after receiving an reluctant acceptance from the chief of police, Theresa and he were holding their ribs, laughing heartedly of the man.

"That was so funny!" Theresa exclaimed. "You played it nicely, detective!"

"You also did a great job!" Craig said, smiling. "Did you look at his face when you put him in his place?"

Both laughed again.

"Now, what's the next step?" the woman asked while they walked to the car.

"Finding the second Krupal Randhawa", he said with seriousness. "The first thing I've to do is to find the disappearance report that was made when the bartender talked with the police. After having it, I can look for him. I've a plan for doing this."

Craig certainly had a plan, or rather a hypothesis, a theory in which he had reflected since Neji put him in charge of investigating the truth about the two Randhawa.

Any person in his situation could have thought that the smarter approach to that matter was to go to the bar where the disappearance report had been made or to investigate in the second Randhawa's house for clues of his whereabouts. But Craig, who was quite familiar with how things worked in a police station, was sure he could not do that if he did not want to raise suspicions toward him. If he would be the chief of police (and knowing how much he liked him), he would ask himself why the newcomer, who supposedly did not know anything about was going on the city, was investigating a case in particular, as if he was quite interested in it.

Throughout his policeman career, David had always sought for his work to be considered as legal as possible. The clearer were a person's actions, the lesser suspicious he/she would look, even if his/her businesses were fishy and shady. If Craig wanted to investigate and to know the truth behind the second Krupal Randhawa, he should make his investigation seemed like a fortuitous act, the next case in the list to resolve.

That night, even though he had said to himself million times that he did not work under Neji's rules, and so he did not have to tell him anything about how he was planning to solve their undertaking, he accepted Theresa proposition to talk to the Hyuga about his plan. His allied said he agreed with his idea, and that the detective could do anything he considered it had to be done to achieve their objective.

So Craig put his plan in action.

Most of the times, the first idea a person have of another does not change even through the years; and when it came to their relationship, the chief of police and the detective had not forgotten their first encounter. Over his initial days working in the police station, the man and he had seen each other with disdain every time they bumped into the other.

It was so much the hate the chief of police felt for him that even the workplace he had assigned for him was the ugliest site the detective had seen until then. The place was not much bigger than a broom cupboard, with an old computer in a dirty desk, a worn desk chair and a big metallic cabinet. As final touch, as if it was a decoration, a horrible lamp was hanging for ceiling, which illuminated the room with a very dim light.

However, even though it did not surprise the chief of police attitude toward him, it really made he frown the nasty behavior of his fellow policemen. Every time he entered the station, as well as every time he left, they saw him as if the Craig smelled quite bad; and murmured between them things like: "What he is doing here?" and "Why he does not return to his little city?" Maybe the chief had shared with them his opinion of Craig and had spread his anger to the others.

But sooner than later David turned a blind eye and did not care for what his coworkers could think about him. He was not there to make friends, but to uncover the Krupal Randhawa mystery.

During the next days, pretending to work in the resolution of the cases under his jurisdiction, Craig looked out for the report made by the bartender; but as the time passed by, the more he explored, the more sure he was that he was not going to find out what was he looking for. He searched in his computer, rummaged through the files in his office's cabinets, and, quite unwillingly, he even asked Jayden and Akemi to hack his coworker's computers to see if they could locate it, but there was no sign of the disappearance testimony in any part of that police station. The report had simply vanished.

"Fuck…" he murmured after five days of useless searches.

Craig had heard that story all the time. Papers always got lost in the police stations. Someone who was too distracted or occupied to remember where she had put the interview transcription, someone who had thrown a report to the trashcan because he considered that "it was too old" for being in the archives. The same old story.

But since the days the computer and Internet had become something of a necessity in all kind of works, there had always been the "computer backup", as some of his old colleagues used to call it. However, there was nothing. Nothing at all. Or it was that all the people working in that station were the worst type of policemen the detective had known, or someone had erased the report's trace on purpose.

"The same one who tried to hide the report in the depths of Internet, isn't it?"

But discerning the enigma did not make him felt better at all. What the hell was he going to do now, how was he going to find the second Randhawa, without the report?

"Let's fabricate a false report", Theresa said that night, when he told her what had happened over dinner.

"Did you lose your mind?" the detective asked astonished, stopping the fork halfway.

She shrugged.

"It's up to you, of course, but if I were you, I would call Neji, or Jayden and Akemi, and would to him or to them was going on", she said, candid as a deadly serpent.

She even blinked rapidly a few times, opening and closing those wonderful greyish blue eyes of her, that David liked so much. She was like Ava, tempting him with the forbidden apple.

He, finally, nodded.

"OK", he said. "But let's be clear that I'm accepting to do this because is the only way to reach the second Randhawa, not because I like your idea", David added, seriously. "What we're doing is illegal."

"Clear as water", she answered, seeing him with a smirk on her face. "But, detective, you can't deny me you don't agree that when the time needs it, getting a little dirty isn't necessary."

She winked, and Craig tried to hide his uncomfortable blush.

After dinner, she dragged him into her room, and there, in his presence, she called Neji and told him to order to the hacker brothers to create the false report.

"Done", she spoke, after hung up the call. "Now, you can return to your room, at least if you want to sleep with me."

This time the detective could not cover his discomfort. His cheeks had acquired dark red tone.

Thru the next days, while waiting for the fabricated report, Craig occupied his mind in trying to resolve some of the cases up to him.

As he had learned as soon as he had begun working there, brought to end old cases was quite hard. It was not as simple as to say: "Here is where all the investigation went wrong" and to work from that point. If he wanted to know how he could solve the cases, he had to study them completely, from the very start, from the minute one until the moment the inquiry ended; and what made such task so complicated was that in some investigations the clues and the paperwork were badly preserved, or there were not inklings at all with which resolved them.

For example, there was this case of the kidnapping and murdering of at least forty people, all beheaded and with their fingerprints erased. Even though it had been quite obvious to the detective that once had being in charge of the case, as well for him, that they had been killed by the same person, there were no clues to prove such theory as true.

However, there were other cases in which the evidences had been well-maintained, and the paperwork was available to be studied; and that the main reason why they were still expecting to be resolved, was because the forensic technology had not being as develop in that moment, not as now.

For example, there was this case about a group of men who, thirty years ago, had stolen four of the most important banks of the town, and had escaped justice thanks to their ability to leave no clues in the crime scenes. But one day, after they had done their last job, the detective in charge of the case had found a glove, and the policeman had picked it up thinking it could be searched inside it for fingerprints. But the forensic team could do nothing with it. The glove had been well-preserved; and after sending it to the forensic, the doctor had told Craig his discoveries. One of the thieves had been identified; but when David went to make the arrest, he found out that the criminal, as well as his thieve friends, were now seniors staying in an expensive retire house. One of the men almost died on him when he told he was there to arrest them for their misdeeds.

As well as that case, Craig could resolve other investigations, which only needed one or two steps to be done to finish them; and as the word of his achievements spread through the police station, he could not help but felt a malignant happiness while realizing the way the chief of police pierced him with anger, as if he could not believe that such shoddy detective was so good investigator.

But that was not the only good thing that came with his well-done job. His work had put him in contact with the station's forensic expert; and David soon found in him a person with whom to share his antipathy for the chief of police. The doctor, named Albert, was the boss's cousin, and he really felt animosity against him. The forensic and the detective could not stop laughing while talking about the fatty and greasy man; but as the specialist mocked about his relative's idleness, Craig could not help but ask himself how much money was going to be needed to shut off his mouth when the second Krupal Randhawa was encountered.

When, at last, the fabricated report was in his hands, the detective was left astonished. Jayden and Akemi had done such great work that if he would not know the report was false, he would take it as the real one. Everything, from the sheet type, the photograph paper, in which was imprinted the second Randhawa's image, to the handwriting style, with it was written, had been retouched to be looked like the passing of the time had claimed its presence on the file.

Thanking the brothers for their amazing job, he put the false report between the cases that were still pending to be resolved, taking care no one could see him (such thing would be a disaster, the end of his real task.) When the time came to take care of it, as if it was something incidental instead of a thing he advisedly had done, the detective rubbed his hands and said:

"Here I come."

But where to go first? The detective, concentrated as he had being in finding a way to begin the inquiry, had not think of the lack of inklings that the second Randhawa's disappearance had. Besides the bartender testimony and his supposed address, there were not much more leads to take into account.

"I could go directly to his house, or I could go to the bar. Maybe the same guy who denounced Randhawa's disappearance is still working there. If I talk to him, maybe I could know more about the second Randhawa", he reason with himself, murmuring in his small office so no one but him could hear.

Yes, that could be a good way to start. He would visit the bar first.

So he grabbed his coat, the keys of the old car the chief of police had given him to work, and left the room.

But as soon as he was going to leave the commissariat, the chief of police stopped him.

"Where is the amazing detective going this time?" he asked in a sardonic way. "What other case he is going to resolve?"

Craig breathed heavily, trying to hold at bay the anger that man woke in him.

"I'm going to investigate a case of disappearance. I was going to follow a lead. Do you want to come with me and see me work? Maybe you can learn a thing or two…"

The chief of police grimace, showing in his fat face an expression that clearly said: "Fuck you, dickhead!"

However, instead of verbalizing how angry he was, the chief of police drew a false smile on his face and said, like he was praising David:

"Maybe you should teach us, to all the people gathered here, some of your knowledge. Maybe, in that way, we could do a better job, don't you think, Mr. Craig?"

"I will think about that", the detective answered, smiling in a false way too; and he added, when he was outside the police station: "You fucking, stupid moron…"

When he got into the car, he wrote Theresa a message: "I have begun". She sent him a thumbs-up emoticon as an answer.

Once he parked the car in the bar's parking and got out of it, the detective saw the building in front of him with surprise. He felt so much acrimony against Krupal Randhawa, that, for him, everything that had to do with the red-eyed man had something rotten and obscure with it. But the place in which he had arrived did not have anything tacky in it; on the contrary, was all the opposite.

The tavern was one of those huge places which were at the same time a bar and a restaurant. The interior was decorated mostly in wood, with the floor and the furniture being the big part of it. At the right side of the place were wooden tables, and at the left side was located the bar. Hanged on the red-painted walls were a series of large TVs, which were transmitting the day sport news. From the ceiling, gorgeous golden chandeliers dangled over the people gathered inside. Various groups of people, from big families to couples, were having a seat on the restaurant, enjoying the shared moment and the delicious food (the smell of the meal was delicious!). On the bar, neither was someone Craig could call "strange". The men and women seated in front it were common folks, not potential killers.

Definitely, it was not at all the place the detective thought it would be.

After being welcome by a host, Craig went to the bar. Some of the people gathered alongside it looked askance at the detective, but David did not care, and waited until one of the bartenders could attend him.

A young man, no much older than twentyish years old, came close to him and said:

"Welcome, fellow. What do you want to drink?"

Craig though that if his circumstances were others, he sure would have liked to taste some of the beverage offered by the bar; but he shook his head.

"Sorry, I didn't come here to have a drink", he answered. "I'm here to investigate a disappearance. My name is David Craig, and I'm a detective. I came to this place following a lead. I'm looking for someone who works, or used to work in this bar, and made a report four years ago for a known person of his. Do you, by any chance, know this man?"

While he was talking, the detective had shown him his police badge.

The young man sighed and rolled his eyes. The detective listened to him saying "Cop…" in a disdainful way. Craig imagined it was not the first time a policeman had come to the place to ask question; but he did not care. He was there to obtain his answers, and he was not going to leave without them.

But, for his surprise, the young man did not begin to fight with him, or did say that he could leave through the same door he had entered. Instead, he gestured him to stay where he was, and even said: "Don't move!" before entering a door behind the bar. Eager, Craig waited.

However, when the young man returned, David wished he would have left the place when he had the opportunity. A huge guy, of at least six feet tall, walked outside the door, with a big frown on his face. In spite he must be around sixty years old, his body was quite toned up, his strong muscles attempting to tear his clothes. He was tanned, as a person who used to do outdoor activities; and over his scalp, a long grizzly blond hair was tied up in a tail. A blond beard covered his face, that made him looked him even more frightening; and it encircled a pair of amazing light green eyes.

"Here is the cop I told you, dad."

The man was the young one's father? Craig saw the huge blond man and the regular-common boy, with his black hair and light green eyes wearing a nuisance expression. It took him a moment to realize their physical similarities.

The man gestured to his son to continue his job at the bar, and he and the detective were left alone.

"What the hell do you want, Bulle*?" the man said with a strong German accent.

David took a deep breath before he presented himself to the man, using the same words he had told his son.

The man showed in his face an angry expression.

"Why now?" he asked. "Why the sudden interest? It happened four years ago, a long time for you, stupid cops, to do something!"

"Four years ago I wasn't here", the detective clarified, talking clearly to not raise the man's anger. "I'd not be here if it wasn't important."

The man eyed him for some minutes, as he was trying to know Craig's real intentions, after which later nodded.

He pointed at his back and said:

"Come to my office. It'll be safer to talk there."

The detective almost refused. The only safe thing of going to rear room was the man's possibility to kill him without anyone who could stop him! But the man had lifted the divider of the bar, and was seeing him with intensity, like asking when the hell the policeman was going to walk past it. Taking once more a profound breath, gathering his courage, Craig crossed to the other side.

The back room was not the infernal den he initially thought. Wide and well-illuminated, the office was as beautiful as the bar-restaurant itself. It was also decorated with wood, and the sofas and chairs were of brown leather.

In a corner, seated by a computer's desk, a well-dressed woman was working on a laptop; and when she turned around just a moment to see who had entered the room, Craig saw her beautiful face, with blue eyes framed by glasses and a long black hair, perfectly straight. Resting on one of the sofas, a young woman was writing on her smartphone while listening to music. She had a lollipop between her lips; and when she observed David, her blue eyes saw him with annoyance. She was blond, but her hair had some pink streaks on it.

"June", the man said when he and Craig had entered the office, "go to help Helen and the girls in the kitchen."

The young woman rose from her seat, with an irritated look. She moved toward the room's door while saying:

"It isn't like I don't have heard you talking, you know? I've listened to all your swearing; and I've fuck enough guys to understand when you're talking about sex."

The man saw her with hardness as the young woman left the office, and murmured: "Teenagers" in a tired voice.

"Do you want me also to leave?" the woman in front of the computer said.

"No, honey, it isn't necessary. The cop just came here to ask me about Krupal. Do you remember him, that pervert Indian?"

The woman nodded as the man laughed in such way that Craig was sure the office had quaked.

"By the way, the name is Elias. Did you tell me your name is David Craig? Say, Mr. Craig, do you want a beer or a scotch?"

The detective shook his head.

"I can't drink. I'm on duty", he said.

"Oh, c'mon, man! No one is going to notice you've a beer or two! And the wife and I ain't going to tell anyone, right, honey? What happens here stays here."

David sighed and said he would accept the beer.

The man brought him the beverage and put it in front of him with a loud thump.

"Tell me, detective", Elias spoke after taking a long sip of his own beer, "do you have family? A wife and kids? A beautiful gal who make your nights less lonely?"

Craig tried not to blush, and said no.

"You're lucky. Lucky to not have kids, I mean!" he said, adding the last sentence when his wife pierced him with the eyes. "You know? My children, I love them, but sometimes I want to kill them. The boy, Paul, he's twenty-two and never had worked until now. One day I said to him: 'Paul, mom and I are offering a job for you in the bar', and can you believe the silly bastard say me no? Oh, I threatened him to kick him out of the house! He was so scared that he said he was going to work as a bartender, even without pay! And June, oh, my God! She's sixteen, and as clever as the mother, but she's always partying! Oh, soon she's going to give me a grandchild if she continues behaving like that!"

"You're being dramatic", his wife said. "She uses protection."

"And what about that? Sometimes the condom breaks and comes the child! Or the AIDS!"

David could not help but smiled. The man was totally different of what he had supposed. Even though his frightening look, Elias was very friendly. If he talked about the second Randhawa as he had spoken about his family, maybe he would be able to retire from the bar with a lot of information.

"So what do you want to know about the old Krupal?" Elias asked.

"Everything", Craig told. "What you know about him, when was the last time you saw him, if he had said something to you that could indicate what he was planning to do before his disappearance, the reason why you denounced his absent; everything you can tell me."

The man nodded.

"To tell you the truth, I didn't know much about him. We were friends", he drew an expression of doubt when he said this, "if you can say so. He used to come here all the time. I didn't have all this when he stopped coming, the bar-restaurant I mean. How long it has been since we restyled this, honey? Three years ago, isn't it?"

"Three years and a half", his wife corrected him, without interrupting her work on the computer.

"Almost after your friend's disappearance", Craig pointed out.

"Yeah, the wife here considered it was a good moment to change the business when he stopped coming. She didn't like him very much."

"He was a perv, as my 'hubby' here said", the woman added, mocking the way Elias used to call her "the wife". "He wasn't exactly the type of person you want to have in your familiar restaurant."

"It wasn't his fault, he was going through a divorce", the man tried to reason.

But his wife didn't buy the excuse. She shook his head; while Craig, taking advantage out the couple's discussion, wrote what he had learned so far in a notepad.

"So Randhawa was married…" he babbled.

"A wife and two kids", Elias declared, nodding.

The detective felt surprised.

"I didn't know he had a family…" he murmured.

"How you didn't know?!" the bar owner exclaimed. "Did you, the police, not have the people's records in your archives?"

"Usually, yes. But your friend is a special case. Someone tried to hide the report you made", Craig informed, telling him a part of real story.

Elias threw an appreciation whistle.

"So, does he have an enemy?" the man asked, raising his brows.

"I don't know", Craig shrugged. "You tell me."

"I don't know either, but if I've to bet, I'd say it was his mean ex-wife, or her new husband."

"Why do you say that?" David asked, frowning.

"Didn't I tell you he was going through a divorce? Well, it was an ugly divorce. She said he was cheating on her, that he was keeping a nasty secret, but she was the reason why they divorced. Ain't gonna tell Krupal was an innocent, he had had his affairs, but there weren't of public knowledge! However the woman, can you believe he found her sucking his boss dick (now he's her husband) in their own matrimonial room? He asked her the divorce immediately, but she didn't want to leave him. She wanted his money."

"She tells another story", his wife said.

"Of course the bitch is trying to change the truth!" Elias blurted out.

"Do you know her?" the detective asked, ignoring the man's rough commentary.

The woman, who had stopped working on the computer and now was looking both men, more interested in their conversation, nodded.

"Well, she isn't my friend. She's my yoga class's teacher. But I know where she lives. She invites my girlfriends and me on weekends to her house for hummus, crackers and reconstructive tea. Very good, quite relaxing."

"Can you give me her address?" Craig requested.

She nodded; and while Elias was saying something like his wife really needed to relax because she was the one keeping the financial books of the bar-restaurant, and, besides, she was the one who have the higher position in the business since the employees obeyed her more than him, Craig wrote down the address on his notepad, as well as Randhawa's ex-wife name (the woman told it to him.)

"OK, let's continue", he said. "You were telling me he was an assiduous client of your bar", he added, viewing Elias.

"That's quite right!" he declared. "Well, as I've told you, we weren't the best friends; and when he was here, he wasn't interested in me particularly. But when he was bored or had nothing on his mind, he used to talk with me. I liked him, especially because we kind of have the same background. We both are foreigners (he's Indian, I'm German), we both went through a divorce (I was married before, but she left me to be with my best friend, the whore!) We were fishing and hunting pals. We used to spend weekends outside, with his and my kids."

"Did he have a job?"

Elias scratched his lush beard.

"He used to be some kind of doctor… A forensic, I guess. But he wasn't working as a 'death doctor' during the last years. I think he told me he was in a business, selling jewelry from his birth country."

"Did he ever try to sell you something of his merchandise?" the detective asked.

"No, never. To tell you the truth, he was quite secret about his trade."

"I bet he was doing something illegal, that's why he didn't say anything to you", his wife said, with a judicious look on her face.

"You must have more faith in the people, woman!" Elias cried out.

Craig put the new info on his notepad.

"Why do you say he was a 'perv'", he inquired, employing the word Elias's wife had used to describe the second Randhawa.

"Oh, because he was!" the woman answered, harshly. "The only reason why he used to come here was to hunt – if you know what I mean. Every time he left the bar, he was accompanied by someone. And it didn't matter it they were women or men! Sometimes he even convinced two or more people to accompany him, the perv!"

"You're being tough, honey. It was the divorce which made him behave like that."

"That's nonsense! People break up all the time and they don't get laid with every person they meet! Krupal Randhawa was a pervert! And a madman! I can bet he was behind all those murders!"

"All those murders?" Craig asked, frowning.

"Oh, once more with the same thing! Stop it!" Elias supplicated.

But his wife denied; and said:

"Nine years ago the city began to fill with corpses", she said. "All they were beheaded, and their fingerprints had been erased so the police couldn't identify them. After Randhawa's disappearance, everything stopped. Isn't it quite obvious that the murders ended because the killer was gone?"

"Was he… one of the suspects…?" David murmured.

The detective could not believe what his ears had heard. He, as all the human beings in the world, had experienced the mysterious ways in which Life acts; however, in that occasion the coincidence was too good, was so amazing, that it could not be true. Not only the Krupal he knew was a well-known assassin, but, apparently, second Randhawa was it too! Was not it laughable?

"Haven't you heard of those crimes?" Elias's spouse questioned.

"Yes", the policeman mumbled, nodding. "The case is under my jurisdiction."

"Well, mark my words. Their murderer was Randhawa", the woman asseverated.

Craig nodded, but he was not doing it because he was of the same apprehension of the female. He was not nodding because he was accepting Elias's wife statement. He was doing it as a cover, so that his face did not show his feelings of surprise and concern. Since that moment, he stopped seeing the second Randhawa as an innocent victim of his young doppelgänger, but as his equal.

Elias threw a snort.

"That doesn't mean anything!" he shouted. "Haven't you stopped to think a moment, woman, that this isn't the only explanation for his disappearance? Maybe he was also one of the victims of that maniac! But I like to consider another theory", the man added, more calm.

"What is it?" the detective enquired.

"Maybe he's in an exotic place of this World, for example a Caribbean island, with his lover", Elias said, smirking.

"With his lover?" Craig asked, surprised again by the new information.

Now was the female's turned to say to him to stop his blabbering, and the man's one to deny.

Elias said:

"The last time the old pervy Indian was here, he left the bar with a guy. Oh, it was a clear as water he liked him! I still can see his eyes shining like stars every time he saw his companion! Oh, Krupal's mouth was watering before the perspective of have his cock inside the guy's mouth!"

David felt uncomfortable, while Elias's wife shook her head, saying: "Stop being so crude".

"Can you describe me the man?" Craig requested.

"He was a common guy. Tall, tan skin, black hair, and was wearing glasses. Brown eyes, I guess. As I said, the typical fellow. But, even though he was ordinary, he had a je ne sais quoi that made him attractive. I remember that when he entered, all the faces turned toward him; and Randhawa wasn't the exception."

The detective wrote down the man's description; but as he put on the paper Elias's words, he was certain that the last person with whom the second Randhawa had been seen was not as he depicted. He was clearly Krupal Randhawa, the one he knew. Nothing could tell him more the truth than what the bar's owner had said about the effect the man had caused in the people reunited in the tavern when he entered the establishment, four years ago. He, himself, had observed something similar when Krupal Randhawa had being in the police station, when the female workers, as well as some of the men, had mesmerized by his presence.

"But do you really think he left the country with him?" he asked.

"I don't know", Elias answered, scratching his head. "As I told you, we weren't the best friends. He was a quite reserve man, to tell the truth. Besides what was obvious (I mean, that he was fucking all the time), I don't know much about him. He could be in some island, having pleasure with the Caribbean sluts, or he's been all this time in his house, crying because his dick fell after so much fuck. I really don't know."

Craig sighed to himself. He felt disappointed. Even though he had received very valuable information, he was, as in the beginning, without clues of the second Randhawa's whereabouts. If he did not find him in his home, he did not know where he was going to look for.

He did the couple some more questions; and moments later, putting his notepad inside his coat pocket, he said good-bye to Elias and his wife, and thanked them for being so cooperative. The man made him to promise that if he found the second Randhawa, he would kick his ass for him. Smiling, David nodded, and then left the place.

History has always been filled with the dichotomy between the rich and the poor. There is not place in the World that escapes the barrier within the people who have everything and the people who cannot count with something, from the ones who live in mansions and tall buildings to the ones who do not even have a roof over their heads. The neighborhood in which the second Randhawa lived was of the second type.

As a policeman, David had been in the most horrible places, but definitely that site was one of the worst in which he had being. For him, it looked like the neighborhood was in an alternative universe, because before he stepped into the location, the Sun was shining brightly on the sky and Life was in its full swing, and after entering, all the happiness turned off; the firmament got cloudy, and the environment felt sharp and hostile.

The community houses were worn down, with their structure dirty, their paint corroded and their gardens unmaintained. A round woman, standing near her house's fence, saw him roughly, with a scorn on her ugly head topped with a hair filled with curlers, and her big hands positioned over her hips, around the horrible pink bathrobe she was wearing. At her side, two massive dogs were growling, with their mouths covered per foam and their beady eyes on the detective.

But Craig, mustering his willpower, moved past them and walked to the end of the road, where he supposedly was going to find Randhawa's house.

When he reached his destiny, he could not say he felt impressed. As the rest of the neighborhood, the building to which he had arrived was dilapidated. The white paint layer that once had decorated the house's outside walls was now all dirty, and in some parts it had vanished, revealing the bricks. Threads of grime hanged from the roof tiles, from which flies were glued. Autumn leaves stuffed the gutters and drains. In the garden, Life had met its end: no trees, no shrubs, no flowers growing from the soil; and the little vegetation that was left was all withered.

He walked to the door and called, but no one answered. He tried to open it himself, pushing it and forcing its knob, but it did not budge; and due the movement, dirt fell off the structure and landed on him.

"Shit!" he cursed, shaking his head and cleaning the grime off his clothes so the dust left his body.

It was obvious that the house was empty, or its owner was too lazy to open the door. He looked around, trying to find another way to enter, but there were not unlock windows, and the backyard door was tightly close.

Craig thought for a moment to grab one of the sticks lying on the lifeless garden and to smash a window with it, but for the sake of his investigation he did not do it. If the chief of police and his employees came there and found out that he had forced his entry, he would give to the obnoxious man a fantastic opportunity to fire him and to take credit for his work. He must look for another way to enter.

It was something common in the majority of American house that its owners leaved a spare key well-hidden around the dwelling for emergency cases. Thinking that the second Randhawa was not the exception, he looked throughout the building exterior, lifting the rocks decorating the entrance path, seeing under the rugs in the front and back door. But he found nothing.

Almost reaching the peak of desperation, his eyes landed on a small fountain in the garden, the only pretty thing around the place. Water cascaded from the rocks which with the decoration was made, producing in him a calm sensation in spite of the hostile environment.

David looked around the fountain, feeling its surface with his fingers while studying it from all the angles; and some minutes later he smiled. The house's spare key was under the object, protected by a plastic receptacle.

He took it, and went again to the front of the house. He put the key on the keyhole and turned it. The door unlocked, sliding with easiness until being ajar.

Pushing it with one of his fingers, he opened the door widely and passed through it, while crying out:

"Hello! Anyone home?! My name is David Craig, and I'm looking for Krupal Randhawa! Mr. Randhawa, if you're here, please show yourself!"

But no one answered nor stepped out of the shadows.

Craig turned around, taking from his coat a handkerchief. He grabbed the door's knob with the fabric, closing it, wishing nobody could interrupt him in his inquiries. But as soon as the object reached its framework, he wished he had not done it.

When the door closed, a smell of humidity and decomposition took possession of the house, reaching his nose and making him felt sick. He put a hand over his snout, trying to prevent the smell from reaching his nose, while looking for a window to opened it and let the fresh air inside the home. When he achieved his goal, moving the structure with the handkerchief, he took a deep breath, enjoying the sensation of the clean air filling his lungs. With the task done, he began to check his surroundings.

Even with the noon lights entering through the opened window (Craig had dragged the curtains before it), the residence looked opaque and obscure. The uncertainty that oozed from it was so suffocating that the detective could not help but feel restless; and when he walked back to the entrance to put the spare key over a small table near the door, he looked constantly at his back to make sure nobody was lurking behind him, prepared to attack.

The house was as ugly inside as it was outside. Everything that passed by his eyes, the wallpapers, the wooden floor, the furniture, the decorations, the lamps, everything was dirty and worn off. Even the small luxuries, as a big flat TV attached to the wall, a next-gen gaming console, or a pretty radio with huge speakers to listen to music, were unkempt; and they were also bathed with dust.

Trash was everywhere, from the floor, where were lying sweets and chips wraps, as well as plastic cups, empty beer bottles, fast food boxes; to the tables, which also were filled with food and exhausted alcoholic beverages, besides ashtrays overflowed with smoked cigarettes. In the floor and in the rugs decorating it, David could see tobacco burns.

The kitchen, where he went next, was also quite filth. There the wraps and the food boxes occupied the majority of it surfaces, and everything was, as well, covered with dirt. The sink was flowed with sullied crockery; and big flies were flying around it, satisfying their appetite with the grime. The cupboards and the fridge were packed with spoiled food.

The main bedroom was the next place he visited. In spite it was also very dusty, it was clear to him that in the past the room had been nice-looking. Everything was decorated in an Indian-style, with pretty light wood side tables, ornamented with hand-made decorations; two big table lamps with purple lampshades, each one depicting a naked woman with two hands and one leg immobile at one of her sides; a large bed, with its headboard adorned with the same style of the side tables, and draped with golden and dark purple sheets. The wardrobe, as Craig could corroborate, was filled with man's clothes. A modern notebook computer was situated over a desk, at one side of the door. The detective tried to turn it on, pushing the power button with the help of the handkerchief, but the laptop did not do anything (after four years of not paying the electricity bill, he thought, the company must have discontinued the service.) He also revised the desk to see if he could find something. There was nothing that could claim his attention; and the only thing that looked interesting, one of the drawers, was firmly closed.

In the second floor were two bedrooms, but they were completely empty.

David returned to the main room, feeling tired and dejected. Even though he had looked in every room of the house, in every corner, he could not find any trace of the second Randhawa.

If something had become clear of his visit it had been two things. The first one, he could not understand how a man with such bad cleaning habits could attracted so many people – as Elias and his wife had said – to his house, and how they had accepted to have sex with him in spite of the place the Indian had dragged them, instead of telling to themselves: "I should leave this house immediately". And the second one, it was palpable Krupal Randhawa had stopped living there since a long time.

What other explanation could there be? At least that he had died in that same house, and his corpse was decomposing in a corner of his ugly garden, he could not contemplate another reason besides that he had left the place years before.

But why he had abandoned his dwelling and had left all his stuff, including his food and clothes, inside the house? Someone had made him disappeared or he had escaped.

"Maybe someone found out he had killed all those people and was blackmailing him…" Craig murmured to himself. "Or really someone made him vanished from Earth…"

But, whether was one way or the other, it did not help him at all. He was going to leave that house empty-handed, with nothing to show to Neji and the others, with nothing against the Krupal Randhawa he knew…

Once again, he had turn out to be the loser.

Craig, completely disappointed, allowed himself to rest for a moment before departing the house. He was reclining against one of the walls, near a big, ornate fireplace, with two white vases decorated with golden drawings over it.

Irritated, he succumbed to the rage he was feeling and tried to push down one of the vases. But the object did not fall down. It slid to its right; and, at the same time the decoration moved, Craig felt stupefied when he had heard as a mechanism was put into motion.

Since the sound of movement had come from the bedroom, the detective wasted no time to return to the place; and when he arrived there, his eyes got wide-eyed for the amazement.

The bed had abandoned its place, moving upward until being face-to-face with the wall in front of it, and it had revealed an outstanding large rug the detective had not seen the first time he revised the room. The carpet was flaccid in its middle, as if there was not floor under it; and when Craig lifted it, he realized the reason of such effect: the rug had been hiding a rectangular hollow.

"What the hell?…" he murmured.

In one of sides of the hatch, a ladder descended to the obscurity, to the unknown.

Telling himself that was not the time to be a coward, that maybe the truth he was looking for was down there, he took a deep breath and began to descend the stairs. Before moving, he had taken out a flashlight and had checked that his gun, which was kept in the holster he was wearing under his jacket, was within his hand's reach.

Craig did not know how much time it took him to reach the bottom, but as he descended and descended, he was feeling more nervous, as if he had the sensation he was going down to Hell. When he finally reached the floor, he breathed with easiness.

But his peace of mind did not last long. Maybe he was not descending anymore, but now that he had touched the floor, a long dark corridor extended in front of him, promising to engulf him in the most terrible nightmares. David swallowed before continuing through it.

He walked and walked, with the beam of light of his flashlight ahead of him, piercing the darkness with the same effectiveness of a plastic knife trying to open a wound in the human flesh.

Suddenly, he hit what looked like a wall; and while he swore in low voice, he directed the flashlight to it. It was certainly a wall; and where the stream of light was aiming, there was a switch. He promptly pushed it to turn on the lights. However, when the place, in which he was, got lighted, he wished he had not done it.

"For Christ Sake!" he muttered.

Throughout the years he had been working as a detective, Craig had seen enough evildoing that he could not say that somewhere in the world, the Devil had built his lair to be closed to his followers; and if the Demon is between us, then his den must looked as the place surrounding him.

Craig wanted to look away from the grotesque location, but he could not; and the more he saw, the more he wanted to throw up.

He did not know what part of that place was the worst: the torture tools, some of them stained with dried blood; the stuffed human heads that occupied a place on individual shelves attached to the wall opposite to him, each of one enclosing a flat TV screen – turned off in that moment -; the metallic bed under them, with ties for wrists, neck and ankles; the rack in the middle of the chamber, also with bindings; the metal cuffs, also for maintaining immobilized an adult human by his/her hands and neck, which had a place on the wall near the detective, fixed in such a way that the person enduring the torment was obliged to be knelt; the portrait, as a decoration, set in a manner that no mattered if the tortured soul was laid on the bed, seized to the rack or fastened to the shackles could see it, of a brown-skinned naked man, wearing a black mask, posing to the camera while pointing at his penis; the plague under it, in where was written: "Pray God Momo! Please God Momo! If God Momo put his wonderful cock on your mouth, swallow his seeds until there is no more! If God Momo put his big, powerful dick in your hollow, beg for more until you lose conscious! Pray God Momo!"

As the rest of the house, all the objects in the torture room were covered with dust.

"Fucking sadistic bastard, son of a bitch!" Craig thought while seeing the horrible spectacle in front of him. Oh, if he found where the second Krupal Randhawa was, he was going to kill him with his bare hands!

Because it was clear as water that the chamber of torture had been made by him, that he was "God Momo". He, as his doppelgänger, was a monster, someone who found in other's suffering his satisfaction; but, compared to him, the Krupal he knew was a naïve baby. Craig, who until then had believed that the crimes committed by the red-eyed demon more the most horrible, realized how lucky he had been for not having knowledge of the second Randhawa before.

He could not say it for certain, but it was evident for him that responsible for the kidnaps and murders of those beheaded people had been that man. The stuffed heads on the wall belonged to all his victims, the ones that he had deceived in Elias's bar with the promise of having a good night of sex, who had accompanied him willingly to his house without knowing that once they had passed the door, there was not escape for them. Only death could end the pain they were going to suffer; and even once they were dead, their bodies were going to be defiled, their faces left in the chamber which had seeing them perished, forced to be silent witness of how other people lived the same agony they had endured.

He truly wished the second Randhawa was not there, because if not, and he located him, the man was really going to learn the meaning of pain.

But he could not entertain himself with vengeance promises. On one hand, he had to fulfill his police duty by calling the chief of police and his men to tell them what he had discovered. On the other, he was feeling sick because of the environment enclosing him, and the sooner he left the place, the better.

Beside the torture objects, and a filmic equipment, with its post lights and video cameras (the fucking bastard did not only content himself by inflicting pain to his victims, but he also filmed them), there were a door, a big furnace (Craig calculated, by its location, that it was connected to the fireplace in the living room) and a fridge.

He tried to open the door, using the handkerchief on its knob to help himself, but it did not budge. On the other hand, the furnace, when he opened its lid (once again, with the handkerchief), he saw that it was filled with ashes and what looked like human bones (the fucker's work.)

When it came to the fridge, Craig felt surprised because it was the only thing – apparently, at least – that had electricity in all the house. He could listen to how it was functioning, trying to maintain the cold temperatures in its interior.

Determined, he opened the fridge's door with the cloth; but once he did it, as it had occurred when he turned on the chamber's lights, an expression of astonishment took possession of his face, and he felt the need to throw up.

Stumbling, he screamed:

"Holy shit!"

Inside the fridge a pair of lifeless red eyes looked back at him. Krupal Randhawa's head was resting motionless on the refrigerator.

Some minutes later, the area had been cordoned off by the police, and the chief of police and his men were inspecting the house, taking everything they could consider important.

Journalist of all the city were gathered around the cordoned off area, trying to have the latest news, and questioning every police and important figure that entered and left the place.

The chief of police was so pleased for having such huge important case happening in his district that he did not care that Craig had entered a private house without a warrant, or even had told him what he was planning to do in the first occasion he had. What were some little mistakes if he had found out the killer of the famous crimes! Oh, he could not wait for the fame his commissariat was going to receive! And, of course, he too!

Being the double-faced person he was, he was behaving in front of the reporters as if he had always trusted in David's qualities, as if he had hired him because he believed in his abilities as a detective, instead of treating him like a scum. He even forced Craig to participate in the interviews and to let the journalists to take photos of the two, but he ignored the man. He was so affected by what he had seen inside the torture chamber that he did not want to pretend he liked the chief.

When the forensic left the house, carrying with him everything he could collect (which was not few things), he patted the detective's shoulder.

"You did a great job", he said.

Craig nodded, accepting the congratulation.

"Keep me informed", he said to the doctor.

Albert nodded as well; and both men saw each other for some minutes, as if the two had done some kind of pact.

As soon as the forensic departed, Theresa came running to his side and put her arms around his neck.

"I'm so sorry! Neji is so sorry! All are so sorry! Are you OK? Do you want to go to the hospital? Can I do something for you?"

David felt startled, but he did not know if it was because she was hugging him or because he could not understand how she had managed to speak with everyone in the little time since he had called her to tell her about his findings, after leaving Randhawa's house, and until she arrived there. But, to tell the truth, he did not matter. After the horrors he had faced moments before, he could not complain when a beautiful woman as Theresa was soothing him and letting him breathe her delicious odor.

"It's OK, no one of you have to feel sorry", he said when she moved away her arms. "I knew what I was doing. I should imagine he was also a rotten guy. Sadists attract themselves. I'm almost wishing the guy we know was the one who had killed him."

The woman nodded.

She, then, got closer to him, resting her cheek against his.

"Are you sure he was Krupal Randhawa?" she murmured.

Craig shrugged.

"I don't know", he said. "Only the forensic will find it out. But I only know two men in this world with red eyes. One is in our town, and the other was supposedly here."

"Did you talk to him? About the results?"

A tired expression took over his face.

"Yes. A big amount of money. I hope Mr. Hyuga and you're ready to pay."

"Don't worry your pretty head, Mr. Detective", she said, smiling, and making him – in spite of his feelings – laughed.

When he recovered of his reaction, she invited:

"Are you ready to wrap off the day and go to the hotel?"

The detective drew once more a weary look.

"I would love to, but…"

While answering her question, he had fixated his eyes on the chief of police. He could bet that even though he had done everything he could do in that situation, the man was not going to let him left. The dog had to play a little more with his new and wonderful toy: David, and his story as the first person who had discovered the dreads of the chamber of torture, was going to make him famous; and the chief was not going to allow the detective to go until he had squeezed him out completely.

However, Theresa said, spitting venom; making him felt astounded:

"That stupid moron can go to fuck himself for all I care! You need to rest, David", she had been calling him by his first name since some days ago, not bothering him at all. "You've already done your job. And if that moron says something, remember that I'm your lawyer. I can sue him if he threatens you; and I'll do it!"

Craig could not help but feel amazed by Theresa. She was so pretty, so intelligent, funny and sarcastic, rough, but at the same time gentle. He silently thanked Neji for allowing the woman to travel with him, and to be by his side in those much needed moments.

He nodded, accepting the lawyer's offer to return to the hotel.

Since her car was near, and his automobile belonged to the police station, she said she was going to drive him.

While they came close to the cordoned off area, the reporters tried to convince him to grant them an interview, but he walked impassible through them, doing everything he could to hide his face as the photographers took photos of Theresa and him.

However, when they were almost going to leave the site, as well as Craig had ventured it, the chief of police tried to stop him:

"Leaving so soon?" he asked, tripping more than running toward him.

He was covered in sweat, and his face looked greasier than ever.

"Detective Craig and I considered he is done here", Theresa answered. "He did the job: he searched the house, he found the torture room, he discovered the killer (at least, his head), so he can finish for today."

"Well, it's a shame you don't stay and enjoy all this!" the chief of police said, opening his flabby arms to encompass everything that was going on around him. "I expect your report in my desk as soon as possible, Mr. Craig!"

The detective did not say anything; but when he was out of his reach, he raised one of hands and lifted the middle-finger towards him.

A few nights later, a limousine entered in one of the main parks of the town. When it stopped in an area where the security cameras could not catch it out, a dark figure moved quickly in its direction, opening the car's door and taking a seat inside it.

The ominous person took off the clothes concealing his features; and when he achieved it, Albert, the forensic, saw the two people inside the car. David and Theresa saw him back.

"Where is the money?" the doctor asked, being aggressive.

The lawyer showed him a big, leather purse, and put it within his reach.

"$ 50,000, as you asked", she said. "But first…" she added, withdrawing the object. "Was him, isn't it?"

The forensic nodded.

"As the DNA test revealed, the man was Krupal Randhawa."

Craig closed and rested his back on the car's seat, trying to hold at bay his excitement. At last, a victory!

* According to the traslator I used, the word is a derogatory way in German of saying cop.

And here finish the chapter. I hope you've liked it. If that so, leave a review and follow the story! See you soon!