Pools of Blood

Chapter 12

"Alfred left for Bali after a few days of our marriage with his friend Chase Anderson", said Jasmine after drinking some water. "He devised a plan to bring the rat out of the hole. They went in disguise so that no one would know their identity and their purpose of visiting that cursed island."

Bali was indeed cursed for our family. Amiya, Alfred every death was related to Bali.

" They searched every nooks and corner, illegal bars, clubhouses, gambling tables, pleasure houses, and whatnot. An undercover Agent is taught how to pull out criminals from their hideouts. They found him, hiding in a smelly, dirty inn among refugees and beggars. He was dragged out and brought to an old garage that belonged to one of Chase’s friends."

-"Then?"

-" He was tied up and left to starve there for some days. Still, he didn’t open his mouth. Then the degree of torture was increased. Alfred was already violent because of his sister’s death and he would go to any extent to bring out the leader. Ji Won was whipped, his nails were pulled out and he was choked in water. After two days of facing hell, he gave in. He confessed everything that he knew and was aware of."

-" What did he say? Who was he working for?"

-" He said he was a contract killer from some other parts of the country. He was given a  contract to kill Amiya. Why? By whom? He had no idea. They simply sent him a plane ticket to arrive at the exact location and paid him to advance to complete the work."

-"Did they show him the video?"

-"Yes, they did. It was of no use. He couldn’t identify the killer or the victim. But he said something which blew my mind when I heard about it."

-"What?"

-"He said that a man came to rescue him from jail. He was wearing a mask. He drove Ji Won out of the city and ordered him to go underground for a few days... The only thing that was visible in the dim light was the blazer that he was wearing and the name of the company engraved upon it."

-"What was it?"

-"FTH Enterprise."

                                                              * * *

It was time for Jasmine’s medicines and rest. So I took leave. Before leaving, she gave me the address of her apartment in Busan. The camera was still there in one of the drawers on Alfred’s study table. I needed to see it for myself. Although I know, the photos and videos of her, in that camera would flood back all our memories together and I would be grappled by pain. But still, Alfred died, Amiya died both in mysterious ways and probably God wants me to be the one to give them justice. I needed Alfred’s diary too. Maybe I could find some clues from it. Maybe he had dug up something which might be of help. He was an expert in sleuthing. The skillful investigation, stealthily stalking and harsh interrogation ran in his blood. Dad was also like him. He was the best Army Cadet who was sent across the border to gather information about the worst strategies made by enemies. Alfred was his child. He must have found out something and that caused all these issues. I was sure about it.

It was already night when I reached Jasmine’s house. Her apartment was on the fifteenth floor. The key was inside a hole of a potted plant kept outside the door. I stepped in. As I entered the house, I was almost thrown back by the overwhelming wall of stench from the rotting food and pungent air. The room was completely gross. I couldn't find a carpet from a layer of various items scattered about. It was like a polluted lake. A chair was lying on the floor, broken in half.

 A glass table in the living room was shattered. The house was completed in mess. Things were lying scattered, drawers were ransacked, pillows were torn open and the bed was upturned. All the clothes from the cupboard were thrown on the floor of the bedroom. Alfred and Jasmine’s framed photos were broken and destroyed. Even the kitchen was overflowing with cups, plates, spoons, all lying broken into pieces. Food was splattered all over the microwave. There were crumbs all over the counter. I opened the refrigerator. There was a plate of moldy food in it. Gross! There were cobwebs in the corner and a layer of dust has built up onto the shelves and on the tripod tables. 

Somebody was here before because the window of their bedroom was open. Somebody came here to get something and they turned the whole place into a dog’s kennel. There were clothes strewn all over the floor.  I went inside the study room. Pages of books were lying torn everywhere. Files were strewn and drawers were opened. Pages and books were lying piled up in a corner of the room. There was no camera anywhere. They came for it and they have taken it away. But I found Alfred’s diary. It was lying under the table, in a waste paper bin, covered in dust. Probably they have overlooked it. I picked it up, dusted off the dirt, and opened the latch. It was a small diary with a medieval-style cover. You know the thing one used to use in ancient times. Leather bound with a latch. 

Alfred wrote in a beautiful slanting style, just like girls. There were times when I used to make fun of it. But he never minded it. Unlike me, he was very tidy about these. Just as I was about to read it, suddenly I heard a faint click. Someone has opened the door. Footsteps echoed in the empty hall. They might have been keeping a watch upon the house. They probably have seen me entering the flat. At least five people have entered the house and they were coming for me.