The Mysterious Inheritance

On the second day, Captain Fayyaz invited Imran to his home. Although numerous experiences had proven that Imran was not what he appeared to be—neither a fool nor a lunatic—Fayyaz still invited the judge's one-eyed daughter to put Imran in a good mood. Even though Fayyaz considered Imran's peculiarities to be mere jokes, he thought it might be a bit of fun. Fayyaz's wife was also well acquainted with Imran, and when Fayyaz told her the story of Imran's "love," she laughed so hard that she was in a bad state.

Fayyaz was sitting in his drawing room at that time, waiting for Imran. His wife and the judge's one-eyed daughter, Rabia, were also present.

"Imran hasn't arrived yet," Fayyaz's wife said, glancing at the watch on her wrist.

"What time is it?" Fayyaz asked.

"Half past seven!"

"He'll be in this room in two minutes," Fayyaz said with a smile.

"Why? How do you know?"

"Everything about him is strange! He sets specific times for everything. He promised to come at 7:32. So I think he must be standing near our bungalow, looking at his watch."

"He seems like a strange person," Rabia said.

"Call him the strangest! He has a doctorate in science from England, but his actions... you'll see soon enough. The strangest man of this century... and there he is, probably."

There was a knock at the door.

Fayyaz got up and moved forward. The next moment, Imran was entering the drawing room.

Seeing the women, he bowed slightly and then shook hands with Fayyaz.

"Perhaps I should start by saying that the weather has been very pleasant today," Imran said as he sat down.

Fayyaz's wife started laughing, and Rabia quickly put on her dark glasses.

"Meet Miss Rabia Saleem, the daughter of our neighbor, Judge Sahib. And you, Mr. Ali Imran, are the son of my department's Director General, Rehman Sahib."

"Very pleased to meet you," Imran said with a smile, then turned to Fayyaz. "You always stuff unnecessary words into your conversation, which are very cumbersome... Rehman Sahib's son! The repetition of 'Sahib' sounds bad. Instead, you could say Rehman Zada... or just Rehman Zade."

"I'm not a literary person," Fayyaz replied with a smile.

Both women were also smiling. Then Rabia leaned over to say something to Fayyaz's wife, and both of them got up and left the drawing room.

"That's very unfortunate," Imran said with a disgruntled expression.

"What? Maybe they went to the kitchen?" Fayyaz said. "There's no one to help the cook today."

"So, did you invite her too?"

"Yes, why not? I thought this way you could also meet her."

"But I'm feeling quite annoyed," Imran said.

"Why?"

"Why did she put on sunglasses?"

"To hide her flaw."

"Listen, there are plenty of women with two eyes available to me. Here, the matter is about this one eye. Oh, what a thing it is... somehow get her to take off those glasses, or else I'll leave without eating."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm leaving!" Imran said, getting up.

"You're a strange person... sit down!" Fayyaz made him sit back down.

"Get her to take off the glasses. I don't believe that a beloved should be in front of me, and I can't even get a proper look at her."

"Speak a little softly," Fayyaz said.

"I'll tell her right now."

"What will you say?" Fayyaz asked, bewildered.

"The same thing I'm telling you."

"For God's sake, don't..."

"What's wrong with it?"

"I made a big mistake," Fayyaz muttered.

"Oh, you make the mistake, and I suffer for it! No, Mr. Fayyaz, I will tell her to kindly take off her glasses. I've fallen for her... fallen... fallen... maybe I've used the wrong word. Tell me, what should it be?"

"Love..." Fayyaz said with a grim face.

"Exactly! I've fallen in love... what will she say to that?"

"She'll slap you," Fayyaz said, exasperated.

"Don't worry, I am well-versed in the art of stopping a slap mid-air, just like stopping a sword with a sword."

"For God's sake, don't do anything foolish!"

"Talking about wisdom is an open insult to a fool. Now call her... I can describe my heart's condition, or maybe I can't... what happens in separation... tell me, what's the word?"

"I don't know," Fayyaz said, irritated.

"Well, there must be something... I'll look it up in the dictionary... Anyway, my heart is pounding, my hands are trembling, but these sunglasses are standing between us. I can't bear it."

There was a moment of silence. Imran was staring at the vase on the table as if it had said something offensive to him.

"I learned some new things today," Fayyaz said.

"Of course, you must have," Imran said, nodding foolishly.

"But no, first let me tell you about those wounds. Your assumption was correct. The depths of the wounds are exactly the same."

"Are you daydreaming?" Imran asked.

"Why?"

"What wounds are you talking about?"

"Look, Imran, I'm not a fool."

"I don't know about that; I need three witnesses to believe it."

"Have you forgotten about yesterday's corpse?"

"Corpse—oh... yes, I remember. And those three wounds were identical... ha..."

"What do you say now?" Fayyaz asked.

"Sorrow can't be hurt by stone or iron. Don't keep banging your head against every wall and door," Imran sang, then started drumming on the table.

"You can never be serious," Fayyaz said, exasperated.

"Promise to get her to take off her glasses, and I'll have a serious conversation with you."

"I'll try, buddy! I shouldn't have invited her."

"The second thing is, how long until dinner?"

"Maybe half an hour... one of the servants is sick."

"Alright... so, what did you discuss with the judge?"

"That's what I was about to tell you! He has the key, and the second thing is that the building wasn't inherited by his family."

"Then?" Imran was listening with attention and interest.

"It actually belonged to a friend of his, who bought it. Their friendship was very old, but life's struggles separated them. Five years ago, the judge suddenly received a letter from this friend, written from that very building. He wrote that his condition was very bad and that he might not survive, so he wanted to tell the judge something very important before dying. After about fifteen years, the judge had heard something about this friend. It was crucial for him to go there, but he couldn't reach in time; his friend had already passed away. It was found out that he lived there alone... yes, so later the judge learned that the deceased had legally transferred the building to him. But it couldn't be discovered what he wanted to say to the judge before dying..."