Midnight Mist

What was the material?

Gagan exhaled slowly, the cigarette in his hand nearly burned out. He tapped the ash off and looked at the shopkeeper.

"What time do the workers usually leave? Is the gate always left open?"

The shopkeeper shook his head confidently. "No, sir. The workers usually leave around 5-6 in the evening. After that, they lock the gate and give the key to the watchman. He stays there, on the construction site."

Gagan raised an eyebrow. "And this watchman... is he always at the gate, or does he go somewhere else?"

The shopkeeper thought for a moment. "He's mostly at the gate, sir. But sometimes, you might see him inside the construction area. That's just how he works."

Gagan flicked his cigarette butt to the ground, deep in thought. Something about the timeline and the locked gate caught his attention. He muttered under his breath, "I'll need to meet this watchman..." before turning to leave.

Gagan paused, turning back toward the shopkeeper. His brows furrowed as he asked, "Do you remember if the gate was open on the day of the murder?

The shopkeeper scratched his head, thinking hard. "Ah... yes, I remember. That day was different. The gate was open in the evening, even after the workers had left. I thought it was strange."

Gagan narrowed his eyes. "Why was it left open? Did the watchman say anything about it?"

The shopkeeper shrugged. "Not sure, sir. Maybe the watchman forgot to lock it, or someone else left it open. I didn't ask him. But I do remember that some Trucks were going in and out that day, so maybe they didn't close it for that."

Gagan's mind raced as he tried to piece things together. "Did you notice anything unusual about it?"

The shopkeeper shook his head apologetically. "No sir, it was the usual, truck that brings the materials for the construction. That's what I remember sir"

Gagan let out a sigh, nodding slightly. "Alright. Thanks for the information. If you remember anything else, let me know immediately."

The shopkeeper gave a quick nod as Gagan stubbed out his cigarette and walked away, already planning his next move. The open gate and the vehicle were new pieces of the puzzle-and he wasn't going to let them slip by unnoticed.

After leaving the shopkeeper, Gagan stood for a moment, deep in thought. The detail about the open gate and the unusual vehicle tugged at his instincts. He immediately pulled out his phone and called one of his team members.

"Listen," Gagan began sharply, "I need you to find the watchman from the construction site where the body was found. Bring him to the station as soon as possible. I have some questions for him."

"Yes, sir," came the prompt reply from the other side.

Gagan ended the call and paced around for a moment. He knew the watchman could be a key link-perhaps he saw something, or worse, was involved. His mind reeled through the possibilities.

Turning back toward the site, he muttered to himself, "Let's see what this watchman has to say about the gate and that delivery vehicle."

He headed back to the station, preparing for another round of interrogation.

The watchman, Raghu, sat nervously in the chair, his cap clutched tightly in his hands. Gagan leaned forward, his piercing gaze making the old man visibly uncomfortable.

"So, Raghu," Gagan began, his tone calm but firm. "On the night the body was buried, why was the gate of the construction site left open?"

Raghu hesitated, his eyes darting around the room before he answered, "Sir, I didn't leave it open for no reason. Mr. Ashutosh Sharma himself called me that evening."