Twenty
Tihar Jail, Delhi
22nd March 2003
7:54 P.M.
Mark scoffed and relaxed his head. Syna and Akash gazed at him expectantly, the biggest mystery of history was about to be revealed from the only source available.
'Who knows?' Mark said. This arched Syna's brow. Akash lost his temper and grabbed Mark's neck.
'What do you mean, who knows?' He grunted. 'Your life events are crystal clear to you; you remember all of it. Now you're telling me you don't know the identity of the person you worked for?'
'That's because he never revealed his identity.' Mark scowled back. 'We called him by the name, The Stalker. That's it.' Akash withdrew his hand and punched the wall, cursing.
'You never found out who he was? No backstory? No weaknesses or reasons?' Syna asked softly, to cover the heat.
'He never shared anything about himself.' Mark answered. 'Do you think the man sly enough to fool the world and remain untouched, would risk sharing his secrets to his subordinates? Of course, not. All he talked about was murders and plans.'
'What do you mean "to fool the world"?' Akash was enraged.
'Skip that. Tell me, how exactly did he find out and kill those other killers? The ones who tried to copy his methods?' Syna asked. Mark chuckled again.
'Well, in the beginning when he started earning fame, a local rapist did try to copy his method. The Stalker found him and killed him with ease. He then sent a letter to the cops, about how someone had tried to imitate him and had ended up losing his head. But, you see, this was an opportunity for him.'
'What sort of opportunity?'
'Remember when I told you how he believed that Fear was the attribute that would draw to his organization the fame that it lacked?'
They nodded in response.
'Well, keeping that in mind, he faked some of the killers and the murders. The ones in Rank 1, they were the sacrifices. The Stalker would connivingly commit a murder in a street, different than usual, and then kill one of his own men, i.e. The Rank 1. He would leave that body in the house, and then send a letter to the cops describing how he murdered another imitator. To avoid further suspicion, instead of killing them, he would sometimes hand over some of the Rank 1s to the cops by tipping off the address, where he would have them placed as bait. That's how he fooled everyone and was successful in spreading the dreaded fear. He made sure there was no competition. The guy wanted to make a monopoly even in crime, something which no one had ever done. That was the basic agenda of his organization. He named it, 'The Monopolists'.'
Syna and Akash were facing a hard time digesting all of this information. The guy was far beyond perfection.
'The CBI did state that it was all a play. An applauding performance though.' Syna said, shaking her head in dejection.
'Was he a terrorist? An outsider seeking revenge?' Akash asked. Mark shook his head in the negative.
'I joined him to take revenge on my colleagues. One by one, I killed them all. It was fun in the beginning, I won't deny that. Later, however, it all seemed like a puddle. And now, it's me who is suffering, not him. Looking back now I've realized one thing, never be the one who knows secrets, always be the one who makes them.'
A few minutes passed by, Mark explained to them how he had killed his colleagues. He tried his best to fill in every detail of each murder. Akash then asked him about how Ranjit Arora, alias, Rahul Arora had joined The Stalker, to which Mark had no clue. Syna kept pushing him to think of more clues. She showed him copies of the three letters she had received. Mark carefully read them and gave his assent that it was, indeed, The Stalker. She also asked him whether he knew if over the past five years The Stalker would have made new accomplices for the murders? To this, Mark gave an unsure reply.
'Why do you think he decided to carry out the murders in Shimla?' Syna asked.
'I wish I could help you with that, but I have no clue.'
'A few minutes back you said that you used to execute the mass- murders in a pattern.' Akash said. 'What was that pattern? The Stalker has released many of his quotes in newspapers, radio, letters and through media anonymously, claiming that those quotes or codes contain the clue of his pattern? Is it true?'
'He did. All of his quotes had meanings. In fact, I believe some of them were drawn from his real-life experiences. As to the pattern, I don't remember anything.' Mark shrugged.
'Please Mark, think!' Syna pleaded. 'You might remember something, anything. He has killed hundreds of innocent people. My friend here has also lost his dear ones because of The Stalker.' She looked at Akash.
'I understand. But I can only say this, only History can help you. All the answers, all of his patterns, all of the smartness, they can be tackled only through History. Dive into the right thing and History shall help you.' Syna and Akash sat staring at him, in bewilderment. His words sounded like prophecy, coming from an illuminated soul.
'History? What History? Whose History?'
'I don't have an answer to that. Except that he studied and used all of the historical figures very carefully for his plannings.'
'Ridiculous!' Akash began. 'Can you at least specify the era? Or the field? Or anything. History is long gone, in every aspect and criteria! How are we supposed to guess which History you are talking about?'
'That's all I know.' Mark said, scratching his head again. 'History is the only answer.'
Akash grunted and punched the bench, Syna sighed and stood up. She then asked him about the location of his hideout, the area where they resided, and planned everything. Mark told her how The Stalker would seal all the windows, and blindfold them while they traveled from one place to another, making it impossible to know which area they lived in.
Akash got up and whispered to Syna to end the interrogation, as there wasn't much conclusive evidence from Mark Hallows. He quickly took out a blank page and a pencil, and sat next to Mark Hallows.
'What else do you remember? Any of his facial features? Get me some description.'
'Well, he was a little dark, tall in stature, roughly in his mid-fifties, I suppose. He had short hair back then.'
'Heh. The only person that comes to my mind is Mr. Khatri.' Syna grinned.
'Describe him, I will sketch a picture.' Akash said.
'He was a smart guy, he wore huge sunglasses that would hide his eyes. Sometimes I wondered if he was blind.' Mark began when there was a sudden noise outside.
'So his face couldn't be identified properly?' Syna asked and Mark nodded.
'He had this weird habit, though.' He said, looking at them. 'He had a room, a long and forbidden one. Whenever he was overcome with a sudden rush of emotions, or if he felt that he was confused about his next move, he would spend hours in that solitary room, thinking. And he always came out of the room with a good idea.' Akash and Syna just stared at him in amazement.
'Your next question might be, what was in that room?' He asked, and they nodded. 'Well, luckily I happened to sneak into that room, once, without him knowing. I was baffled with what I saw there.'
'Time machines? Or some inhuman device?' Akash asked, Mark looked at them, sighed, and said,
'All the famous historical figures in a line, gawking at me, their words of wisdom written right beside their portraits, newspaper clippings, and some pictures. There was a long wallpaper stuck all over the wall and the ceiling. On that were names of all great people in the past, placed alphabetically, in bold letters.'
'You mean, he stared at them for hours?'
'Yes. Initially, I couldn't understand why he had done something like that, gathering pictures of all those old and well-known figures of the past, and placing their ancient words of wisdom together, in one place. Some of them even dating back to the time of the Roman Empire.'
'But how would that help him?' Syna interrupted. 'What help is ancient wisdom to a serial killer?'
'Those were my thoughts, exactly. Except when I looked closely at each name, I noticed that it didn't only have their famous sayings of wisdom, but also consisted of various other writings and stories.' Mark took a sharp breath. 'Let's say the name read, 'Mahatma Gandhi', then apart from Gandhi's photos, his sayings, and different movements, he would also jot down his observations. Such as Gandhi's behaviours and decisions taken when he was happy, when he was in anger, or when he was in trouble. He had put up small clippings, so if the word read, 'Sad', there would be a note of how Gandhi would behave when he was in a sad state of mind.' Syna hence derived from this that The Stalker's decisions were always influenced by these well-known figures of the past.
Mark explained further that whenever The Stalker felt sad, happy, or even helpless, he would always pay a visit to the room, be it for a millisecond. He called it, 'The Forbidden Room' where he studied how those figures would behave if they were as happy as him, or if they were in trouble as he was. That was his way of understanding 'Life'.
'It is all so surreal. I no longer feel like we are dealing with a human.' Syna said, her senses dropping every second.
'Can you tell us the names of a few of those leaders?' Akash asked.
'They ranged from cruel leaders like Hitler to non-violent souls such as Gandhi. I think he used all of them as his Mentors.'
'The only reason the CBI could never catch him was because they thought they were chasing a serial killer. But in actuality, they were dealing with a genius, whose every move was backed with two thousand years worth of wisdom.' Mark added.
'That's enough. Your time limit has exceeded. I urge you to get out of the cell.' Three guards intervened suddenly.
The stout guard dragged both of them far away from Hallow's cell. Syna threatened them saying she would file a lawsuit against all of them, for misbehaviour, tampering, sexual assault, inhuman nature on the inmates. Akash, too, persistent to not leave, he roared at them. Finally, the chief in charge had to interfere to shoo them away.
*********************************
Rushing inside, Dexter glanced for signs of suspicion. He knew the call was staged and used as bait, to sneak in. Syna's office seemed unusually perfect. There seemed to be nothing that was rummaged through, in any manner. The pen holder was in its position, all the documents untouched. He decided to give a quick look at the hidden drawer, beneath Syna's desk. He had hidden all the letters and rough papers inside that small drawer. He looked at the door and quickly lifted all of them, to check if anything was missing. He checked them all, one by one, when suddenly a small envelope fell. An intriguing object, since he had not seen it before. Dexter lifted it and sat on the chair opening the envelope, and he realized instantly that it was a mistake to look at the contents within.
***************************************
Everyone loves to hear a story, let's talk about ours on your deathbed.
~The Stalker