Trishank: A Way In

Chapter 7

There she was, twiddling her carving knife with a growling stomach, yet a plateful of meat just sitting in front of her. This was a surprising sight for anyone who usually shared a room with Bea, to see her unmindful of food.

Had it been a usual day in its usual way, it was the cutlery which would have felt ignored as she indulged herself in gorging on Filet Mignon, not fried to the crisp (ugh, if  I needed  burnt food, wouldn't I have cooked? Why even bother with public canteens?), nor under-cooked (What am I? A bloody neanderthal?), just cooked enough to feel the crispiness of the surface meat while the tenderness, the juiciness of the innards were still left to be savoured. The pepper over it was an unwelcome touch, but she wasn't focused on that today.

Today, her thoughts were focused more on the case at hand. This was the first bullet to be fired in the compound in 30 years. Why would someone risk all that just to get a shot at a bookstore owner? More importantly, how was a gun ushered into Trishank, given its high security? Was it a slip-up? More so, was this 'slip-up' deliberate?

Her thought train came to a halt when she heard her name being called out. "Bea!" She heaved a sigh of exasperation. Great, another thing I was looking forward to all damn day. 'Reporting' to Ten. "Bea!" There it is again.

"I'm counting to three in hopes of a response, failing which you will get a 70% cut in pay effective immediately. I mean, immediately after the count is done." His tone was somewhere in between mock authority and a desperate need to hold his chuckle back. The result was a shrill, juvenile command, something

"Do that, and my foot will have a meeting with your mouth to 'Resolve our differences' regarding said pay cut." She swiveled on the chair, air-quoting with her middle fingers until she met his eyes squarely.

"Come now kid. You have responded, so there's no need for a penalty now, is there?"

"Are you actually waving your title in front of ME? You are 20 years too early for that, kid." 

"But you are 20."

"I rest my case." She mused with a smirk, chiselled with experience.

"Anyway, let's not dawdle in banter, we have pressing matters to discuss." There it is, the fabled game face. Down to business it is then.

"Yes, I believe I know what you're talking about. Who in the NINE BLOODY RINGS OF HELL peppered my damn steak?" At this, she could practically smell his disapproval that was radiated her way, and came back to the matter at hand. "Lighten the hell up kid, you look like you're trying to hold a fart in."

"Come on Bea, save the fun and games for when we're done with the case. This is the first criminal case in Trishank's history." Tennessee wasn't one to keep his cool under pressure, and this was the most pressure that he probably has ever been under. He wasn't shouting it out, but the intensity in his tone aired his concerns, loud and clear.

"Precisely the reason we should keep calm. Pragmatically, yes this is uncharted territory, but we have prepped for this all our damn lives! Why are you getting worked up? I have already set things in motion. The incident is logged. The victim is checked upon regularly. I have mapped the trajectory, and have found this." She produced the bullet casing taken from the cathedral, and went on.

"There were no prints on the casing, or anywhere in the vicinity of where the casing was found. Trust me, the drones dusted the whole place down."

Tennessee scrutinised the casing, squinting skeptically. "This is a 12.7, well in-character for a sniping. Rare to come by these days, so it shouldn't be hard to circle in on the owner, once the gun is found. Any news as to the gun?"

"Not yet, we are awaiting warrants to comb every damn cell if that's what it takes, but that is just standard procedure, as it wouldn't have been easy to take it that far without raising at least one eyebrow, if not send whole damn streets into pandemonium. Nobody has seen guns in Trishank since, well, since god knows how long."

"Since the inception, read your history books again kid. But yeah, your logic makes sense. Why bother with the warrants at all? Start focusing the manpower on looking for clues inside or near the cathedral itself, I'm sure something would turn up." Saying this, Tennessee grabbed her carving knife and cut a piece of the steak, stabbed it, and put it in his mouth nonchalantly.

His demeanour soon changed as he saw Bea turn red, as red as iron would turn when heated, as red as blood, as red as Bea turns when someone touches her food. Laughing, he started making haste, "Toodles, kid! Don't go around killing higher officials, it's bad for your career!"

Son of a-