"Goodbye Maya. Till next time."
Maya Ganguly has always felt a sense of loneliness in her heart since the time her elder brother had run away from home. Fourteen years ago. But things were finally looking up when she was able to convince her parents...
We returned back to Mrs. Majumdar's place around six o' clock in the evening and found her to be away. Rakesh called her. She was apparently paying a visit to one of her friends and would be a bit late in coming home.
Mrs. Majumdar had given Rakesh the key to the front door in the morning so luckily we didn't face any problems in getting inside tonight.
As I changed my dress in my room, I felt contented today. We had failed to trace my brother, true. But I had finally found a companion in Rakesh who truly understood me. I felt a strange sense of security around him that I had only sensed around Grandpa before. And if I didn't know better, I could even tell that the detective had started to care for me and love me. The kind of love that assures you whatever may happen, he'd always cover my back and if things didn't work out, he'll also offer me his back as readily to lean upon. I had never thought that I would be able to make friends out of such a strange character such as the detective, but we found similarities in our differences and that seemed to strength our bonds.
After a while, I could discern a faint tune coming to my ears from outside. I opened the window. Everything was dark outside except a part of the garden that was illuminated by the light coming out of my room.
And then I heard the sound, louder and clearer. It was the sound of a harmonica. It was meandering and soulful, the kind of music that seems to travel to the innermost reaches of your heart and moves you. At first, the tune seemed to be simply sad. But as I stood listening to it for a while, I could distinguish those occasional upbeat cresses that almost forced me to tap my foot to the beats. I always liked to listen to music since I was young because it had an odd power of making me transcend all my worries and events happening in my life however briefly and just let my consciousness bend and reshape as I listened to the rhythms of the melody.
I leaned out from my window to try and spot the detective. But all the things outside of my immediate surroundings were engulfed in a sort of oppressive darkness that seemed to create an invisible boundary between me and the source of the music that filled my ears. A strand of my hair continuously drifted in front of my eyes as a gentle wind started to blow into my room from outside making me shiver. I wondered how Rakesh could sit in that darkness and play his harmonica in that freezing cold. He never seemed to be bothered by the cold as much as I was.
After a while, I went to the kitchen to scout for some snacks. The lunch had not been up to my expectations and I felt quite hungry now. I noticed a packet of biscuits kept on the kitchen table and took that.
As I was walking back to my room, I realised that some strange noises were coming out from the detective's bedroom at the other end of the corridor. It almost sounded as if someone was searching for something frantically.
I tiptoed up to his door and found that the lights were switched off inside. It seemed odd and I felt a bit scared. I never believed in ghosts when I was back in the city. But it was an entirely different situation now that I was standing alone in a corridor in an empty house with noises coming out from an apparently empty room. I was wondering what I should do when suddenly I felt someone's hand on my shoulders and I spun around. I was about to cry out when I found my mouth covered by the detective's hand.
"Someone's inside," he whispered.
I removed his hand from my mouth. The noises seemed to be louder than ever now and I could even hear something fragile breaking inside.
"Whoever's inside will be armed," Rakesh whispered.
"Armed? Like a gun?," I asked in surprise.
Rakesh put the index finger on his lips and shushed me.
"Do you have a revolver?," I asked him in a whisper.
The detective shook his head.
"I don't think having a revolver is essential in leading a happy and satisfied life," he whispered back, "And I don't have money."
"I have never heard of a detective who doesn't keep a gun with him," I whispered back in surprise, "Seriously, how can you feel safe dealing with crooks if you can't even defend yourself? Not that you would...."
"Look," he said impatiently, "we have an advantage here Ms Ganguly. The intruder hasn't switched on the lights in my room. So she must be using a torch or something. Now, the switchboard is exactly beside the door in my room. So if we manage to switch on the lights, her eyes will be dazed for a moment...."
"And we can try to unarm the intruder," I finished for him. The detective nodded.
"Alright, on the count of three, you'll open the door. I'll switch on the lights and try to intercept her," he said.
"One," the detective counted. I took in a deep breath and held on tightly to the door handle.
"Two."
The detective nodded.
"Three!"
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