a wary stranger
Mr Khan and Inspector Suchdev had arrived at the address, a 13-storeys apartment building. Both man lacking a sense of direction.
They had no idea what the address meant. Right now, Inspector Suchdev softly rested his hand over the shoulder of the watchman, asking the man questions. His Ray-Bans edging over the watchman’s face, his curious eyes narrowed behind them as he listened carefully. The watchman sounded churlish and mysterious from the tone of his voice.
After staring at the height of the building, Mr Khan made his way towards the watchman. Whilst unwrapping an eclair toffee, slowly. By the time he stood in front of the watchman, the wrapper was scrunched into a tiny ball resting between his thumb and index finger of his left hand. Pressed hard. The bare toffee held in his right hand, between thumb and index finger.
Inspector Suchdev gently but tightly gripped the collar of the watchman and corrected the fold, as it had stood high with a sense of arrogance. That seemed to have registered really well with the watchman as he lowered the tone of his voice. Fearfully, behaved politely. His tensed face warped reflecting over the inspector’s Ray-Bans.
“Is this how you treat any person?” Inspector Suchdev continued.
“We are here to carry out a murder investigation… So play nice.” He advised strongly with a far laconic but fierce tone in his voice.
Mr Khan listened attentively as his droopy eyes blinked softly a few times. He was about to rest the toffee into his mouth only to be interrupted. The lift of the building had travelled to ground floor as a young man pushed the door open, and paused. Inspector Suchdev slowly raised his head and narrow eyes toward the young man. Mr Khan quickly stirred his head sharply to his right, directly towards the young man who now began to feel hesitant. Both paused as they stared at this wary stranger, trembling with trepidation, instantly.
At first Mr Khan assumed the stranger was suddenly overcome by anxiety at the sight of them. But the stranger’s eyes began to bulge, dilate sharply, they had been fixated. Suddenly and quickly overcome with extreme perspiration and a pounding heart. Had they found their suspect? Mr Khan raised his hand, positioned his thumb and index finger forward between which the bare eclair toffee rested, with the remaining fingers almost closing into a fist. And threw the toffee as if a dart at the frightened stranger-turned-suspect. Mr Khan’s way of expressing “found-you”.
The suspect quickly ran towards the stairs on his right, instead of taking the lift. Attempted to avoid tripping. Inspector Suchdev aggressively pushed the watchman out of his way and followed in fierce pursuit, trampling over the eclair toffee, crushing it.
“What FLOOR!” Mr Khan ferociously shouted at the watchman.
Mr Khan pulled out the Beretta from his holster as he pulled the door open towards him, took the lift.
The suspect continued to take to the stairs, heading towards his apartment with Inspector Suchdev racing towards him. He began to grow exhausted, took sharp deep breaths. When he felt the suspect wasn’t willing to surrender he pulled out his Beretta and aimed closely but away from the suspect and pulled the trigger, frightening and rather warning him. But the suspect continued, he was almost there now.
He’s reached his apartment and locked it behind him once inside. Inspector Suchdev reached at the door, gripped the handle tightly and pulled hard. Nudged his shoulder forcefully into the door, once and then twice. Mr Khan pushed the elevator door stiffly and turned sharply until his eyes crossed Inspector Suchdev, who raised his gun towards the handle and pulled the trigger, once, and twice. Pressing his back and front teeth together on one side angrily and then kicked the door open. His was pissed off now.
Upon swing the door open, the suspect swing a crowbar over Inspector Suchdev’s left side of his face, it caused a deep cut over his left brow. But ignored the infliction and quickly responded with the ferocious grab of the suspect’s hand, when he tired again with the crowbar. Inspector Suchdev forcefully pushed the suspect onto the table in front of him, and then pointed his beretta at him. A trace of blood ran down, he wiped it with his back hand. It smeared over his cheekbone.
Mr Khan placed his hand over Inspector Suchdev’s shoulder and gently pressed for a response, to be reassured he was fine. Inspector Suchdev nodded positively, he was ok, still responsive. An extremely loathing expression grew over Mr Khan’s face. He fiercely pulled the suspect off the floor with both fists tightly gripped over the shirt, pressing into his throat and chin. Forced him to one side with both hands still gripped stiffly, he almost floated off the ground. They stood to one side, Mr Khan’s forehead edged out. The suspect’s warping image reflected into Mr Khan’s piercing eyes.
“You DON’T want either of us to get nasty.” The suspect felt as if his reflected had been swallowed.