The Cursed Shell

22

Brute had pressed his back to the chair. He wasn't sure that Joshua Lamb would reach on time. He couldn't stop thinking about Krystene. He was blaming himself for not keeping the case away from her knowledge. His knowledge of history, symbols and languages had pushed him in a kind of chase he had never been to.

Dhawan was standing at the corner of the room, rubbing his chin. He had already been through many dangerous cases. But this one was quiet more mysterious. They didn't know much about the case. Why is the bad guy killing the scholars just for a conch–shell? As Krystene had already told them that the killer was driving a Benz, it was clear that the killer didn't want the shell to sell it for money. Yes, it was possible that the killer wasn't satisfied with his wealth and wanted to be richer.

Todd Lamb was sitting on a chair beside Brute. It was still hard to believe that someone was so much interested in the shell. If the killer was killing the scholars for the shell then he must be knowing what the shell actually is.

Crunchy was coiled beside Dhawan. Although he is a cat and his mind isn't as developed as a human's mind, he has a large part of his interest in mysteries too.

Dhawan reached for his cell–phone as it started ringing. It was an unknown number. He had already learned a lesson that unknown numbers can be important too. He picked it up and pressed the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hello, Dhawan," this English voice was recognised by the young detective. "I hope you recognise me, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," Dhawan said. "Where's the girl? She's alive?"

Brute stood and listened carefully. He was eager to know about Krystene.

"Yes, she's alive," the assassin's voice came from the phone. "She's unconscious right now as I hit a stone on her head. But don't worry. She's still alive."

Brute exhaled in relief.

"And yes," the assassin continued, "tell the old professor that his pal, Luna Cluster, in no more alive."

Dhawan didn't need to repeat the sentence as the phone was kept on speaker.

Lamb felt his eyes heavy. Luna was one of his best friends.

"I'll give you a chance to save the girl," the assassin said. "I'm going back to my hometown, London. I'm taking the girl with me. I'll tell you the address to meet. And if the girl is lucky, she could be saved by you. And yes, don't try to trace this phone. It's not mine."

Before Dhawan could speak anything else, the line went dead.

"The killer's hometown is London," Dhawan said, turning back towards Brute and Lamb. "He said he would give me the address of the place where we've to meet. We have a chance to catch him."

"And to save Krystene", Brute added.

Stephenson Mal, the assassin, had done exactly what his appointer had told him a few minutes after Krystene sprayed the pepper spray on it. He didn't kill the adolescent, and had to take her London in the private jet booked by his American appointer. After that, he would call Dhawan and tell him the location where to meet. But first, he had to crush his cell–phone.

Joshua Lamb was driving his car wildly on an empty road through the forest. Although there was AC in the car, he was sweating.

His phone started ringing in his pocket. He fished it out and accepted the call.

"Hello? Dad?" he spoke in his phone.

"Josh, come back to America," Todd Lamb's calm voice said. "The adolescent is alive and the killer is taking her to England."

Josh applied brakes and his car stopped with a skid. The tyres of his car smoked for a second.

"Professor Luna Cluster is dead", Todd Lamb spoke sadly.