The Con-Artists

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ

Soon a man about six feet tall with an upturned mustache stepped inside the office. His face was stoic and devoid of any emotion, dressed in a simple pant shirt, hairs gelled back, and chapped lips with sharp black eyes held thousands of secrets and tales of mysteries. His persona made Shayan shudder, not in fear but due to the creepy and mysterious vibes emanating from his self-hood.

"Mr. Farhan, please take a seat," Asad nodded in acknowledgment and pointed at the chair across the table. As soon as Farhan sat on the chair, his questioning gaze settled on the young detective.

"This is Detective Shayan. He is here to help with the case." Asad introduced. Farhan nodded at Shayan and diverted his attention back to Asad.

"Officer Asad, ever since I came back from Oman, after getting the dreadful news of my wife's murder, it's been two days, and I wanted to talk to you, but you are completely ignoring my pleas." Farhan's gruff voice was complaining as if he was there to have his revenge for a wrong done to him in the past.

"That's not it. We are working day and night on your case. I didn't get time for the proper meeting." Asad answered, slightly leaning forward.

"As you are an experienced officer and according to the requirements of interrogation, you should have inquired with me first, yet you keep on ignoring me. I don't know why I think you're avoiding me," Farhan proclaimed another valid complaint.

"Look, Mr. Farhan-" Asad tried to interrupt, but Farhan kept on rambling.

"Forgive me, but your behavior indicates that you are not interested in solving this case. Even when I told you that I have something very important to tell, you chose to delay our meeting. I would have leaked the information to the media if you had left me hanging one more time."

Shayan suspiciously looked at Asad at Farhan's accusations and Asad, for the first time in his life, found nothing to say.

The man in front was, no doubt, cunning and straightforward. His tone was sticky sweet though words were like daggers directly thrown at his opponent. He idly winded around the silver ring in his middle finger as he waited for Asad to answer his objections.

"Mr. Farhan," Asad cleared his dry throat before speaking. "I apologize for the misunderstanding between us. Being an officer is not easy as I have to handle many things regarding the case, questions of social media, and also the pressure from authorities. You are here now, so tell me what you wanted to say. I'm all ears."

"Is it about the girl that escaped from police custody?" Shayan spoke for the first time in Farhan's presence, earning a curt nod from the man.

"Yes, I am fully confident that Alina Imtiaz is my wife's murderer." Farhan's heavy words baffled the two men. Asad furrowed his eyebrows in confusion while Shayan thoughtfully accessed the strange man sitting in front of him.

"We did find evidence against Alina for the murder of the café's guard though we don't have solid proof that she also murdered your wife. I was myself present at the cafe when, unfortunately, your wife was shot dead in broad daylight, and Alina was there too. So, how can you declare that?" Asad asked.

"Because..." Farhan leaned in, clasping his hands together, and sighed dramatically. "Because I know something about her that no one knows."

"Mr. Farhan, we will appreciate it if you come to the point instead of beating around the bush." Shayan interrupted, impatient to get the answer.

Farhan glanced at him, unclasping his palms, and then disclosed the fact about Alina, which was a mixture of both truth and lies, "What you don't know is that Alina Imtiaz is not only a killer but also a skilled con artist."