Another Heaven. Annu Subramanian

Manohar. “You are the manager, Zakir. Why did you disobey?” Manohar asked again.

      “He is saying that he felt sorry for the woman who was stranded,” Kumar explained, moving away from the victim’s face.

      “Did anybody ask you to let in a visitor?” asked Manohar, lighting another cigarette.

      “No.” Zakir shook his head.

      “Did anybody pay you to let in a visitor?” asked Manohar, blowing rings of smoke towards the ceiling.

      “No,” whispered Zakir, crying like a baby. He hissed in pain as the salty tears cascaded down his fresh wounds.

      “LIAR!” shouted Manohar, and pressed the glowing end of the cigarette on Zakir’s cheek, close to his left eye.

      Zakir gathered strength from somewhere within his retching body and let out a bone-chilling scream.

      “You’ve to stop now if you want Zakir to live tonight, and he must live until we can find what we need to find. How can you let him die of pain if you expect to get information from him?” whispered Kumar.

      “Let’s get out for now.” Manohar walked towards the door, his cold glance estimating the victim’s degree of pain. He stopped by the two men waiting outside the room and said, “Give Zakir food and let him rest. I’ll continue tomorrow.”

      - 8 -

      From Palace Hotel to The Express, Pennoor

      The spacious foyer of Palace Hotel was nearly empty. Tina looked at the marble floor, the crystal chandelier, and the mix of artwork on the walls. How different it was from 19 Temple Street! She saw the friendly smile of the clerk at the front desk and promptly went to him.

      “Yes, Madam, we have your room ready for you and,” the clerk turned towards a cluster of chairs where a few guests were lounging, “a gentleman is waiting for you.”

      A young man approached Tina with an extended hand and said, “Miss Matthew?”

      “Yes. Mr. Stevens?” Tina looked at her contact’s face again. He was not at all what she had expected to see. He was supposed to be an upcoming reporter, possibly in his late-twenties, but he had the appearance of a college student, with a shock of wavy hair and spectacles.

      “Yes, I’m Stevens, but please call me Mark. I’m so happy to meet you at last, and I’m glad you’re okay.”

      “Thank you. Mark, this is Dr. Neil Shaker. He is the one who has been helping me since yesterday.” Tina awkwardly introduced one gentleman to the other when she barely knew the psychologist and had just met the journalist.

      “Shall we have a drink? Hope you had a chance to eat some breakfast.” Mark led the other two towards the large restaurant.

      “We’ve eaten. Thank you. I could use a cup of tea, though,” Shaker replied absentmindedly, leading Tina to a comfortable chair.

      As the waiter left with their order, Tina looked at Shaker again. A part of her, defiant and assertive, wondered why he was still there. The other ridiculous part, hanging on a tremulous and unknown vein, wished him to stay. Somehow, for a mysterious reason, he held the key to her peace of mind after the previous night. He was, after all, the only sane link during the recent, peculiar turn of events.

      “I’m sorry about the confusion at the train station yesterday, Miss Matthew. I’m so glad you’re okay.” Mark tried to break the silence.

      “Oh, please call me Tina. What happened at the train station?”

      “There was a minor explosion, just a few minutes before your train arrived at the junction. Incidentally, there was a political rally near Tirupur, which is where I was stuck. In fact, I didn’t reach Pennoor until 5:00 this morning. The newspaper says that the blast occurred at one of the depots close to the station, not far from that platform.”

      “A major explosion happened there only last month, not right there, but not very far from that station. A repetition so soon?” asked Shaker. “Any party claimed responsibility for it yet?”

      Tina remembered the previous bombing incident very well, and the end of all means is the beginning momentarily visited her lingering fear. And she noticed an extraordinary agony touching the reporter’s expression. But it passed as quickly as it appeared.

      “I’m not sure who is responsible. No deaths or injuries were reported. I guess it was a scare tactic. Anyway, that announcement must have been unnerving while you were about to get off the train. And I’m sorry you had to find accommodation in a strange place.”

      “It was strange, but what is more unnerving is my adventure this morning,” said Tina, somewhat glad to recount the incident with the fugitive. “But I’m glad her family followed her promptly and took her to safety.”

      “That can scare anybody. Again, I’m so sorry you had to go through what you did. Well, you’ll never forget this visit,” smiled Mark, refilling her teacup. “Are you ready to visit my office?”

      d

      Tina did not expect to see such a lush landscape surrounding The Express. The grounds looked like an amusement park, with clusters of graceful palm trees, meticulously cultivated hibiscus bushes, colorful borders of pansies and balsams, and gushing water fountains. She followed Mark into an air-conditioned foyer and noticed that the place was tightly guarded.

      “Looks very serious, Tina, doesn’t it?” asked Mark, looking at the armed guards. “We’ve had a series of hate mail and some unpleasant incidents and threats from anonymous groups.”

      “Islamic militants? I read about it recently.”

      “Yes, mostly. They don’t approve of what we print in the paper, and we occasionally hear from some angry Hindu activists. We’ve got to be careful. Tina, I thought we could go to my room and prepare a bit before we join my team for lunch?” asked Mark, walking towards the elevator.

      It was very crowded inside the elevator. Tina moved towards the back wall, or she was made to move by the milling crowd. Was Mark inside? She couldn’t see him. A couple of passengers smiled at her. Had she seen them before? She had seen so many new faces in the last two days. She was glad when the elevator finally reached the fifth floor.

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you got pushed to the back,” apologized Mark, right outside the door.

      “Thought you were already tired of me,” Tina replied jokingly, trying to conceal her anxiety.

      One of the men in the elevator walked towards the window and called Naim Tailoring. In a couple of minutes, a call reached his phone from19 Temple Street. “That woman is in The Express office,” he informed his contact, and carefully listened to the flood of instructions.

      After introducing Tina to a couple of his colleagues outside the elevator, Mark asked her to follow him to the end of the corridor and into a messy room. “Since you’re going to be here only for a few days, I’ve made a small workspace for you in my office. Is that enough?” he asked.

      “Whatever you’ve arranged is fine,” replied Tina, hesitantly looking at the cramped office. The single four-drawer filing cabinet, bulging like a pregnant woman’s belly, added to the general claustrophobia.

      “I’m sorry about the mess,” he smiled, guiltily resting his eyes on the clutter. “What do you want to do first? I’m sure you want to have a meeting with Varma?”

      “Sure, I’d love to have a talk with your manager,” Tina replied eagerly. Varma could lead her to a very fruitful assignment in the future. “How long will you be in Pennoor?”

      “A few weeks. I’m vacating my office in Hyderabad. I’ve been offered a position in Chennai, and I’m going to move there in a few weeks. So, Tina, what would you like to discuss first?”

      “How about the October 15th explosion near Seloor station? I’ve read the news articles on it. I want to know what you