Secrets and slippers

It would be completely wrong to think that Imran's steps aimlessly led him towards the Tip Top Night Club. He already had information that Sir Jahangir was not currently residing in the city, and he also knew where Lady Jahangir spent her nights on such occasions. It was also true that Lady Jahangir had once been his fiancée, and due to Imran's own foolishness, the marriage could not take place.

Sir Jahangir was probably around sixty years old, but due to his physical fitness, he did not appear very old.

Imran lay quietly, holding his breath...half an hour passed! He looked at the watch on his wrist and then got up to turn off the light in the bedroom. Walking on his toes, he approached the door of Sir Jahangir's bedroom, which was locked from the inside. A deep blue light was visible inside! Imran peered through the glass of the door. Lady Jahangir was lying face down on the bed, sound asleep, with a fox terrier's head resting on her back, also sleeping.

Imran carefully walked into Sir Jahangir's library as he had before. It was dark here! Imran took out a torch from his pocket and turned it on. It was a fairly large and spacious room! There were large bookshelves all around and three long tables in the middle! In any case, it seemed more like a public reading room than a private library.

At the eastern end, there was also a writing desk. Imran went straight to it, took out the paper from his pocket that he had found mysteriously on the person who died in that terrifying building. He examined it carefully, then began flipping through the papers on the desk.

After a short while, he was staring in amazement at the letterhead of a writing pad. There was no difference between the letterhead on the paper he was holding and the one he was looking at. Both had the same symbols, which commemorated the deeds of Sir Jahangir's ancestors during the Mughal era. Sir Jahangir was still using these symbols! Instead of his name, these symbols were usually printed on his papers.

Imran rearranged the papers on the desk as they were before and quietly left the library. According to Lady Jahangir's statement, Sir Jahangir had been missing for a month... so then!

Imran's mind started racing! What was Jahangir's connection to these matters? Before returning to his room, he peeked once more into the room where Lady Jahangir was sleeping, smiled, and then went into the room where he was supposed to sleep.

At nine in the morning, Lady Jahangir was shaking him violently to wake him up.

"Well done! Well done." Imran woke up with a start and, sitting cross-legged on the bed, started clapping as if he were cheering for players in a field.

"What nonsense!" Lady Jahangir said irritably.

"Oh! Sorry!" He said, looking at Lady Jahangir with astonished eyes.

"Hello! Lady... Jahangir! What brings you here so early in the morning?"

"Have you lost your mind?" Lady Jahangir said in a sharp tone.

"Maybe!" Imran said, making a face, and started calling out to his servants by name.

Lady Jahangir stared at him for a few moments and then said, "Please, now leave this place. Otherwise..."

"Who are you to throw me out of my own house?" Imran jumped up.

"Is this your father's house?" Lady Jahangir's voice grew louder.

Imran looked around in surprise, as if something had suddenly fallen on his head.

"Where am I? This room doesn't seem to be mine."

"Now go, or I'll have to call the servants."

"What will you do by calling the servants? Any service for me? By the way, you look very beautiful when you are angry."

"Shut up."

"Alright, I won't say anything!" Imran said sulkily and then sat back on the bed.

Lady Jahangir continued to glare at him with eyes that could kill. She was panting, and her face had turned red. Imran put on his shoes, took his coat off the hanger, and then, with great composure, sat at Lady Jahangir's dressing table. He started fixing his hair while humming, as if he were truly in his own room. Lady Jahangir was grinding her teeth, but her face also showed all the signs of helplessness.

"Ta-ta!" Imran turned at the door and walked out with a foolish smile on his face.

His mind was completely clear at that moment. The information from the previous night was enough to satisfy him. The mysterious presence of Sir Jahangir's letterhead in the hand of the dead man indicated that Sir Jahangir was somehow involved in the matter! And perhaps Sir Jahangir was still in the city! It was possible that Lady Jahangir was unaware of this.

Now Imran was concerned about the charming man who was being seen with the judge's daughter these days.

"We'll see about that!" he muttered softly.

He hadn't intended to go home, but he had to. How else would he get his motorcycle? He also needed to find out who actually owned that "terrifying building." If the owner was a stranger to the villagers, it was obvious that he hadn't built the building himself because the architectural style was very old. Therefore, in such a case, it could be assumed that he had bought it from someone else.

When he reached home, trouble awaited him. The old lady was already seething with anger. As soon as she saw Imran, she exploded!

"Where were you, you lowlife pig!"

"Oh, Ama B! Good morning... dearest!"

"Morning, my foot! I'm asking where you were last night."

"Oh Ama B, what can I say. You know, Hazrat Maulana... actually, my spiritual guide and master, Syedna Jigar Muradabadi... Allah bless him... I mean, I was in the service of Maulvi Tazafal Hussain last night! Allah, what a saint he is, Ama B... just understand that from today, I will start offering prayers."

"You scoundrel... you dog... you're trying to fool me." The old lady said with an irritated smile.

"Oh no, Ama B!" Imran started hitting his own face hard. "My paradise lies under your feet."

And then, seeing Suraiyya approaching, Imran tried to slip away as quickly as possible! The old lady kept muttering non-stop.

"Ama B! You're unnecessarily upsetting yourself! You'll get a headache." Suraiya said as soon as she arrived. "And as for brother, leave him to God's care!"

Imran said nothing! He couldn't just leave the old lady muttering like that.

"Shame on you. You're disgracing your father's honor." Suraiyya added to one of the old lady's complaints.

"What, has father started wearing a turban?" Imran shouted joyfully.

Ama B suffered from palpitations. Her nerves were weak, so she got angry. In such situations, her hand always went for her slipper! Imran sat down calmly on the floor... and then heard nothing but the sound of repeated slaps. After beating him to her heart's content, Ama B started crying! Suraiyya dragged her into another room... Imran's cousins surrounded him. One was dusting off his coat, another was straightening his tie. One even started massaging his head.

Imran took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, standing as if he were entirely alone. After a few puffs, he headed to his room, leaving his cousins Zarina and Sophia staring at each other.

In his room, Imran tossed his felt hat to one side, threw his coat on the bed, and collapsed into an armchair, starting to doze off.

The paper from the previous night was still clutched in his hand! It had some numbers written on it. Some measurements. It seemed as if a carpenter had estimated the proportions of various parts before crafting something! Apparently, this scrap of paper had no significance. But it was related to an unknown corpse, a man who had been mysteriously murdered. And this was the second murder under such circumstances!