Hit Subscribe for Murder by Noah Alexander

Author:Noah Alexander [Alexander, Noah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Noah Alexander
Published: 2021-07-04T22:08:32+00:00

Keep Your Eyes on your Own Lunch

Life in the town of Mowgli was supported by numerous little villages which littered the forest all around the town. They supplied Mowgli with fresh fruits, vegetables, dairy, laborers, and occasional thieves and vandals. One such village in the east, a mile-long trek through lush paddy fields and mango groves was Almora. It was the largest amongst all the villages in Mowgli’s vicinity and yet had no more than fifty small huts and mud houses. One such house belonged to Gopal, the unfortunate ex-watchman of Noor Mahal.

Talking with the two fishing boys at the edge of the river had left little doubt in my mind that the person chasing Gopal on the day of his death was none other than his intimidating one-eyed brother-in-law Bhura. Since Gopal was screaming and Bhura was carrying a machete, it was safe to assume that the two were not indulging in a friendly game. Based on my experience with him, Bhura was more than capable of killing people. What I needed now was some more evidence to prove that he had indeed killed his brother-in-law.

The dirt trail which weaved through the fields and mango groves led straight to an old temple with a saffron flag fluttering on top of a tall mountain shape structure. The temple was the biggest and the only brick and cement building in the village. All the other houses were made with mud with thatched roofs. I got off my bicycle and made my way through the cows and goats which roamed the streets of the village like they were out for evening grocery shopping. An old man pointed me to the house of Gopal Das. The house was across from a well which was surrounded by ladies pulling water in their pitchers and chatting happily. A couple of kids crouched on the ground playing marbles. Their game was being watched keenly by another kid in a white shirt and navy blue shorts from under a small mulberry bush nearby.

That kid was Silsila, the camera boy who took his job too seriously.

The boy got up from under the bush when he saw me.

“You live here, in this village?” I asked.

“No,” the boy said, “I am from Basra Village. It's harvest season and my elder brothers were troubling me to work in the field. So, I am hiding here."

He looked at my bicycle and the bag in the basket.

“Are you recording another video?” he asked

“Yes,” I said, “I am here to talk to Gopal’s wife and his brother-in-law regarding his death.”

“Oh,” the boy said, “Have you changed your field then? From cooking to solving crimes.”

“Yes,” I said, “Turns out there is more scope in this.”

“Good for you,” said the boy, “I didn’t want to dishearten you then but I felt you had a bleak future in that field. You don’t have much talent for cooking food in front of the camera, perhaps solving crime would be more your cup of tea.”

I thanked him for his encouraging words.

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