Trixy and The Crescent Of Rana

CHAPTER 28 : FOURTH TARGET

"What the heck were you thinking?!" blared Maahir, his voice echoing loud in the numb silence of that tiny hostel room.

Ezhil was standing near the door, attempting to shrink herself out of the family drama inconspicuously. In the two months she had worked with Maahir, this was the first time she ever saw him actually get angry. He sometimes sulked and got annoyed, but never expressed anything remotely close to such wrath. It was quite a shock to witness him yell like a Goblin gone wrong. She bet even Dan would have chosen not to open his mouth if he had been present.

"How the hell could you dare to devise such a plan without letting us know first?!" cried he again.

It seemed like it was a first for Sarat too, for he looked as startled as she was. But he was slowly regaining his composure.

"Why are you shouting? What's there to shout first of all!?" he shouted back, "Did you ask my permission before you joined Trixy? Why the fuck should I ask YOU then?!"

"THAT WAS DIFFERENT!" Maahir bellowed, "And I'm not begging you to ask my damn permission! I'm only asking why did not you have the basic etiquette to inform me of such a big decision? Have you told mom and dad at least?"

"I was going to. I received my confirmation mail only three days ago and I was planning to visit them in the weekend. I'm going to Buabida only in October."

"No, you are not."

Sarat scowled a laugh. "It's not your job to decide. It's mine and I have decided. I'm going."

"Do you have bananas for brains? What language am I speaking in? A frigging serial killer is waiting to murder you the moment you step out! Cancel your application and sit tight here, until we catch him."

"I ain't becoming the scapegoat for your paranoia. Whatever you want to do, you do. Catch a serial killer, assassinate the Prime Minister, elope with a monkey or whatever. Save your gallantry for someone else. I don't get offers from Doodle every day. You haven't been in that job for full two years and you have started to order me on what to do. I'm taking the job. Period."

"This,-"

Ezhil caught his hand abruptly. She rolled her eyes sideways, signalling him to come out. He complied gruffly and following her outside.

"What are you trying to do there?" she asked, as he closed the door.

"WHAT,-"

Her fingers sped across glibly and closed themselves over his lips. "Don't shout," she said, "Talk."

He might have half smiled. "What else? Trying to convince him how serious the trouble he is in. He doesn't seem to grasp the gravity of the of the situation at all. Can't you see how carelessly he's behaving? He is acting like I'm pulling some second-grade prank on him!"

"I said not to shout," said she, "Anyway, what do you think happens once he denies the job offer?"

"He'll continue his current job and hopefully the killer would leave him alone."

"And why do you suppose he'd do that? How would he even get to know if your brother takes the job or not? Most importantly, do you really believe he even cares at all?"

Maahir was struck dumb by this sudden epiphany. He seemed to reflect on it deeply for some time. "Yeah, you are right. The killer might not care about our disposition at all. Change of plans. Let's pack him up and send off to Buabida tonight itself."

"Maahir, come to your senses!" said she, and shook his shoulders, "Do you really believe your brother is in any temperance to listen to anything you say? I think the most plausible strategy now is to catch the killer catching your brother."

"Are you asking me to use my brother as bait?!" he cried, "No way in hell am I doing that!"

She sighed. "Fine. You are the leader. You call the shots. But think this through, Maahir. This is a rare opportunity for us."

He didn't want to go in. He sat down on the bare floor and leaned back on the railings, rubbing his brows.

"Okay," he said, after giving it enough thought, "But let's inform Sarat first of what we are about to do. If he is willing to cooperate, we shall go with the bait plan."

Much to their surprise, Sarat wasn't the least bit distressed with the bait plan. He was, instead, excited beyond expectations. Somehow, the apprehension of the mortal danger he was putting himself into was of trivial concern to him.

"Wow," he said, on hearing them, "That sounds frigging cool. I'm taking part in an actual Trixy operation?! Wait. Do I get paid for that?"

"We are saving your life, Sarat, remember," sighed Maahir.

"By risking mine, remember."

"No way in hell I'm paying you. Are you okay with the plan or not?"

"Fine. Fine. Let's proceed with your plan. You are going to catch the killer who is going to kill me. Or hopefully only attempt it. Alright. So, when does he strike? In the nights while I sleep? Who is to guard my door? What about the window? It's just plain glass. He could easily break in. You guys-"

"We know, Sarat," cut in Maahir, "His style so far had been to K.O his victims in their usual routes back from the college or office. Which route do you take to your office?"

"Route? My office is exactly opposite to this building. All I have to do is cross the road."

They were definitely baffled by this unexpected piece of information. Does that mean their killer going to give up on his fourth target?

"But," continued Sarat, "if your killer can be satisfied with any regular route I take, I hope there is just one."