Pools of Blood

chapter 34

The garage was a small tumbling down half in ruins, old shop situated in the southern Naju behind the food plaza. Nobody would see it unless you are looking for it. A tiny shop with a red banner hanging on its wall. 'Clinic for your wheels', in sloppy gothic writing.

"Who writes that? I mean seriously? Clinic for cars? "

Khwajim laughed.

"f*****g doofus."

We parked our car outside the gate and jumped over it. It was locked so was the garage.

"How do we get in?", Khwajim asked.

I looked around. There was a shutter instead of a door. And it was pulled down with three locks, locking the shutters tight. No way we could break through without a lock cutter.

"Let's take a view round of the garage. Maybe we can find a loop for entering, shall we? "

He nodded and we separated in two different ways.

There were used-up plastic bottles and rusty iron rods and pieces of ropes scattered everywhere. Bits of tires and jimmies, nails, and paintbrushes led the way. The whole area smelled of turpentine and grease. So bleak and nasty!

Suddenly I found a skylight. High above the wall, a small skylight was still open. If only we could climb there, then we could have jumped in.

I called out to my partner and discussed possible ways of reaching the skylight.

All of a sudden an idea struck me.

Those pieces of ropes! We started collecting them and tied them up to make a longer one. Then on one end, I tied a rusty iron curved rod and threw it high. It hit the target and fixated there. We started to climb. Slowly and stealthily we reached the skylight and slid in.

I landed with a soft thump. Khwajim landed after me. He was very agile and flexible at his age. The whole shop was pitch black.

I switched on the flash of my phone. It looked like any other garage would naturally look. Tires of old cars, bikes, half repaired cycles, and motor engines were laid scattered everywhere. Different tools lay on the shelves all around the walls and the floor was littered with papers and plastic bottles.

"What do we have to search? ", my mate asked me.

"Anything that can give us a clue about the man we need."

We again separated and started to search. The cash counter was empty except for a few cents. There was a small office room in the end. It was full of litter. That man probably was the dirtiest animal on the whole planet. Searching a clue in the world’s dirtiest stack was like searching a pin in a bundle of hay. It was an almost impossible task. Bunches of newspapers, playboy magazines, pornography magazines, posters of naked girls, half-clad girls in tiny swimsuits, and whatnot.   

Suddenly Khwajim gave a call somewhere near. I rushed towards his voice. He might have found something.

He was standing at the front desk of the shop. Near the cash counter. "What is it?", I asked.

"Look at this?"

He gave me a plastic chained envelop. A wad of notes was bundled there along with a letter.

I took out the letter. It was written to someone called Mo Ang.

"Who is this Mo Ang? ", I murmured while reading the letter.

"What does the letter say? ", Khwajim asked.

I cleared my throat and reread it for him to hear.

Dear Mo Ang,

How are ya doing? All is fine here. Boss paid me my dues. I have opened a small garage in Naju, just near to your house. Wouldn't that be fun, two old boys killing time drinking beer every night? You will be surprised to know that the car you sold me years ago got broken a few days ago. I sold it at half price and brought a motorbike instead. Isn't that cool?  I have still been not assigned to any task at present. Maybe Boss is on a holiday or something. I am free to do anything until the next work comes. I love my work so much. Killing chickens, hearing them cry, and swiftly twisting their neck. bam! It's over. That is an amazing job.  I am sending some money with this letter. Lemme know after you get this. You know where to call me. I will meet you soon. And then we can make some barbeque with whiskey. Gonna love that, will ya?

Your bro,

Mo Ying

We exchanged glances. We have got a clue at last. The letter bore an address. This Mo Ang must be a known associate of Rumi aka Mo Ying.

"How can you be sure that Rumi is Ying? He might be a chicken seller". I laughed. 

-"I trusted my instinct. He would be the one surely. Let's find out, shall we?"

The address wasn’t far from our location. Maybe a few scores of kilometers. It was on the easter border of Naju.

As we were discussing suddenly my phone rang. It was Jasmine's number. Why was she calling? I wondered. 

" Hello."

-" Michael", Jasmine’s panic-stricken voice floated in. She was panting heavily.

-"What happened Jasmine? " I got alarmed. I shouldn’t have left her alone. She was probably right. What if?

-" Michael, I- "

. The call got disconnected. My phone went dead. There was no charge for it. 

"s**t", I cried out in frustration. Why did my phone have to die at that precise moment? God! 

‘Someone is there at the hotel. I need to go there now. Jasmine’s in danger".

Khwajim nodded.

"Okay. So I travel to that address and keep an eye on the resident there. Shall I? "

-"Yes. Get pictures if possible. And make sure you don’t miss out on anyone entering or exiting".

He nodded in agreement. I trusted him. He was an expert in spying.

I kept the wad of money just as it was and we returned to the skylight and climbed out. I threw the rope and the rod away and ran towards the car.

"Was jasmine okay?" I wondered as I drove towards the lodge.