The Silent Reporter (A Police Procedural Mystery Series of Crime and Suspense, Hyder Ali #1)

by Thomas Fincham

  Ian waved it off. “I’ve been busy, okay? We are in the last stage of finalizing a big contract.”

  Grant already knew the contract that Ian was referring to was for the nuclear reactor plant. He had seen it on the news.

  “Okay, why are you here?” Ian demanded.

  “We have a problem.”

  Ian crossed his arms. “What’s the problem?”

  “Freeland’s daughter. She’s digging into Freeland’s business.”

  “So what?”

  “She’s already spoken to the detective on Freeland’s case.”

  “It’s still open? I thought you made it look like a suicide.”

  “I did, but this detective doesn’t seem to want to close it and I have a feeling it could be because of Freeland’s daughter.”

  “What I want to know is, will it come back to us in any way?” Ian asked.

  Grant shook his head.

  “Then get rid of her,” Ian said.

  “You mean kill her?” Grant said.

  “Yes, isn’t that what you do?”

  “I am not a hired assassin,” Grant said. “Killing is not my first option. I am a fixer of problems. The Freeland situation could only be fixed by eliminating him. If I eliminated his daughter too, it would not fix your problem. In fact, it would exacerbate it. The police would look into her death even more closely than her father’s.”

  Ian bit his bottom lip.

  “There is more,” Grant added.

  Ian gave him a look.

  “Freeland’s daughter also spoke to a reporter. He’s helping her.”

  Ian was beside himself. “A reporter? Why’s a reporter getting involved in all of this?”

  “I think he was one of Freeland’s students.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Hyder Ali.”

  “Where does he work?”

  “The Daily Times.”

  Ian rubbed his chin. He was in deep thought. “Okay, leave this reporter to me.”

  “What’re you going to do?” Grant asked.

  “I’ll deal with it, but what about Freeland’s daughter?”

  “We can’t harm her, at least not yet, but I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  Ian nodded. He then pointed a finger at Grant. “The next time you have to meet me, you don’t show up at my workplace, got it?”

  Grant didn’t respond as he walked out the door.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Hyder returned to the Daily Times. As instructed by Dunny he had interviewed the neighbors who had the dispute. He hated to admit it, but Dunny was right. It was an interesting story, one he would type up as soon as possible and send to Dunny for her approval. He hoped it would make its way into the next morning’s paper.

  When he reached his cubicle, he saw Lester standing by his desk.

  Lester looked grim.

  Hyder smiled. “Why so serious?”

  “Bro, something big is going down.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Hyder was genuinely confused.

  “Dunny came down looking for you.”

  “Why didn’t she just call me?”

  “I don’t know, but she didn’t look happy.”

  Hyder laughed, asked, “Does she ever?”

  Lester grimaced. “It’s not funny, bro.”

  “Don’t worry,” Hyder replied, reassuring him. “I’m sure she wants to find out if I’ve got a story for her or not. And believe me I’ve got a good one. It’s so good that you may be reading it in tomorrow’s edition.”

  Lester wiped his forehead. “Wow. That’s good to hear. I thought she was gonna sack you or something.”

  “Nah, not me. I’ll be here for a good while.” Hyder looked around. “Where’s my laptop?”

  Lester put his hands up. “Don’t blame the black guy. I never touch another man’s goods.”

  Hyder was certain he had left it there.

  He sure wasn’t carrying it on him when he interviewed the neighbors.

  “Oh-oh, I see her coming,” Lester said.

  Hyder looked and saw Dunny was coming straight for his cubicle.

  “I gotta go,” Lester said. “It was nice knowing you.” He bolted.

  Again, Hyder was surprised to see how he managed to disappear. “Hyder!” Dunny said. “My office, now!”

  He followed her. “Is everything okay?”

  “We’ll soon find out.”

  They entered the office where Hyder found two men waiting for him. They were both wearing dark suits. One had spiked hair and the other was completely bald.

  “What’s going on?” Hyder asked with a trace of alarm.

  “Mr. Ali,” the bald man said. “I’m Agent Douglas and this is Agent Lafferty. We are from the FBI.”

  Hyder didn’t know what to say.

  “Mr. Ali,” Agent Douglas said as he produced a laptop. “Is this your computer?”

  Hyder glanced at it. “Yes, but why do you have it?”

  “Do you mind unlocking it?”

  “Is this some kind of joke?” Hyder was confused.

  “I assure you, sir, this is not a joke. Can you please unlock your computer?”

  “Can I see your badges?” Hyder’s instincts kicked in. He would make sure his civil liberties weren’t violated.

  The two agents produced them and after Hyder was certain they were who they said they were, he typed in his password.

  “Thank you,” Agent Lafferty said. He then began going through the contents of his computer.

  “Are you sure you are allowed to do that?” Hyder said.

  Agent Douglas produced a piece of paper. He handed it to him.

  It was a warrant to search his computer.

  “Why would you want to see what’s on my laptop?” Hyder said.

  “We received a tip that an individual has been posting threatening and malicious content from this very computer.” Agent Douglas said.

  “Are you kidding me?” Hyder said.

  “We don’t kid about this stuff, sir,” he said grimly. “We take this matter very seriously and so should you.”

  “Found it,” the agent working on his computer said. He opened a folder with many files in it. He clicked on one, whereby a video popped up. The video showed a building exploding. It was followed by images of death and chaos. At the end of it was a call for action against the government and big business.

  Hyder was beside himself. “I’ve never seen that video before.”

  “There are more videos,” Agent Lafferty said. “Over a dozen, in fact.”

  “I don’t know how they got on there, I swear,” Hyder said, looking over at Dunny.

  Dunny refused to make eye contact with him.

  “I’m telling you the truth,” Hyder pleaded.

  Agent Douglas placed his hand on his elbow. “The only way to be sure is for you to come down to the field office with us.”

  “Am I under arrest?” Hyder asked.

  “Not yet, but we would appreciate your cooperation on this. It would be in your best interest to speak to us so that we can sort this out.”

  Hyder knew putting up a fight would be futile.

  He followed the agents out of the Daily Times.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Hyder was taken to an undisclosed location. From the backseat of their SUV he could barely make out his surroundings through the tinted windows.

  They escorted him up to a room on the fourth floor of the building.

  The room was spacious but felt constricted. The walls were painted gray, and there was a table in the middle with chairs on opposite sides.

  Agent Douglas and Agent Lafferty spent the next hour grilling Hyder on the contents found on his hard drive.

  Naturally, Hyder denied knowing their existence.

  They probed into his past, asking about his parents, their parents, and so on. Hyder knew what their angle was.

  He was a single, young, male Muslim whose family was from Pakistan. The agents never once uttered the word, but H
yder knew what they were trying to allude to.

  Terrorist.

  The thought sickened Hyder to the core. He was born and raised in the United States of America. He was a proud Muslim who followed his religion with the best intentions. In Islam, all actions were based on niyyat (intentions). It was taught that God looked, not only at one’s actions, but also at his or her niyyat performing those actions. If one did something for someone with the intentions of helping them, then God would look kindly on them. If one did something for someone with the intentions of gaining something from them later, then God would not look favorably on them.

  Hyder had made sure to keep his intentions pure whenever he did something. It was not easy, but he tried his best. For instance, he understood he was guilty of not praying five times a day, but he never did it to impress others because his niyyat would not be in the prayers.

  It was why Hyder was feeling ill now. Propagating violence and destruction on others went against Hyder’s belief system. He never believed that a God who was gracious and merciful would want death and misery. According to Hyder, there was one God, and this God had created the heavens and the earth. So if he was mighty and great, able to create the entire universe, why would He care what mere humans did on a single planet?

  If this God did in fact want the destruction of people with a certain belief, then He could do it himself. Hyder would not take any part in it. And when Hyder’s time came, and he was fortunate to meet Him, he would say to Him, “I lived my life with good intentions. I harmed no one and I let no one harm me. The rest is for you to judge.”

  The discussion with the two agents continued for another half hour.

  Finally a man wearing a black suit arrived. He was tanned and had a grayish beard and thick hair.

  Agent Douglas stood up. “You can’t be here.”

  “I can,” the man said. “My name is Haseeb Malik and I am Mr. Hyder Ali’s lawyer.” The man dropped his card on the table.

  Agent Douglas picked it up and made a face.

  “Has my client been charged with anything?” the lawyer asked.

  “No.” Agent Douglas shook his head. “We were just having a chat.”

  “Then until you charge him with something, this chat is over. Come, Hyder.”

  Hyder felt like a little boy whose father had come to get him out of detention. Mr. Malik was a good friend of Hyder’s dad. They had grown up in the same village in Pakistan.

  “What about my laptop?” Hyder asked.

  The agents looked at each other. They weren’t sure what to do with it. Hyder had so far answered all their questions. They knew there were many possibilities of how the contents got into his computer and that it would be difficult to prove any of them in court. No one saw him view it, no one saw him distribute it. In fact, during the interview they couldn’t even verify that Hyder had interacted with anyone online regarding the supposed material he was posting. They didn’t have a case.

  Agent Lafferty handed the laptop to Hyder.

  On the drive back, Hyder asked, “Uncle, how did you know where I was?”

  “Someone had called your mother from your work.” Hyder knew it had to be Lester. “She told your brother and he called me.” Hyder felt a headache coming on. It was bad enough that his lawyer had to come get him, but now he would have to deal with his older brother. “So I made some calls,” Mr. Malik continued. “It wasn’t easy, but thank Allah I was able to find you.”

  The remainder of the drive was in silence.

  When Hyder entered his home, he found his mother on the sofa, crying. Next to her was his brother, Akbar. Akbar looked angry and about to explode.

  Akbar Ali was named after the Mughal Emperor, Akbar the Great. Hyder’s father had wanted to name both his sons after leaders and conquerors. Hyder could never live up to the name given to him, but in some ways Akbar could.

  Akbar was tall, with a neatly trimmed goatee and coiffed hair. In many ways he was tall, dark, and handsome. He was also a medical doctor at the Franklin General Hospital. Akbar had also continued his education with the goal of becoming a cancer specialist.

  Akbar stood up, ready to scorn Hyder. Mr. Malik motioned to Akbar to follow him to the kitchen.

  Hyder went up to his mother. “Ammi, I am so sorry,” he said.

  She wiped her eyes. “Hyder, when your friend told me the police came and took you away, I was so scared.”

  Hyder put his arm around her. “It wasn’t the police, Ammi. It was people from the FBI. There was a misunderstanding and it is now cleared up. No need to worry anymore. It’s okay.”

  “Do you want me to make you roti?” his mom asked.

  She was always concerned whether or not he was eating properly.

  He wasn’t hungry, but he wanted her distracted.

  “Yes, please,” he said.

  She got up and left.

  A minute later, Mr. Malik and Akbar came out of the kitchen.

  Mr. Malik gave Hyder a smile as if to say, don’t worry, everything is fine now. Mr. Malik knew how to diffuse a situation. He had children of his own, and he knew how to deal with them.

  Akbar approached him and said, “Make sure Ammi is not upset. I have to go back to the hospital.” With that, he left.

  Hyder was relieved to see him go. A lot had happened today and he couldn’t handle his brother blasting him.

  He thanked Mr. Malik for his help before Malik left.

  He washed up and when he came into the kitchen the delicious smell of his mom’s cooking filled his senses.

  Hyder felt suddenly famished.

  THIRTY-NINE

  Nolan sat in his car, staring at the house across from him.

  There was nothing spectacular about the house. It was like the rest on the street. It had a flat roof, rectangular windows, and a square-shaped garage. It had a long driveway, though. A car had just pulled up to it. A man with two children emerged from inside the car. The man was pulling out bags from the back seat while the boy and girl were grabbing items from the trunk.

  Nolan watched the Hansborough family take groceries from the car and into their house.

  He had come to the house many times before, always parking across from it, but never going up to introduce himself. He lacked the courage to do so. He didn’t know what he would say to Peter Hansborough. Like him, he, too, had lost a wife. David and Janet had lost a mother. What could he possibly say to them?

  He knew their names by heart. He had read everything about them, most of it from the local newspapers, though.

  He didn’t blame Amanda Hansborough for what happened that morning. It was an accident, pure and simple.

  He wasn’t good at the blame game anyway. There was no point to it. It was just that he couldn’t find a way to move beyond his loss.

  There were times, however, when he thought he was over the pain. That it was now alright to resume his life, but then reality hit him and he was back destroying himself with alcohol.

  But, a part of him did, in fact, want to get over the loss. It was draining to have this mournful weight constantly on him. He had severe headaches and they only went away when he hit the bottle, but the relief was only temporary. When he was sober again, the loss would come at him from all angles, slapping him, beating him, punching him, kicking him, until he was left with no choice but drown his sorrows in alcohol again.

  Maybe it was why he came here to the Hansborough’s house. If he could speak to them, it might open the door to his path to recovery. But then, what if it didn’t? What if it only made it worse?

  The thought terrified him. It was why it was better to stay inside the car and just watch them.

  The family was almost done taking the groceries out of their car.

  He squinted, deep wrinkles etched his forehead.

  They looked happy, as if they had moved on from their loss. Maybe it was because they still had each other. Who did Nolan have? No one. He had lost everyone important in that accident.

  The children
were laughing and teasing one another. Even the father was cracking a joke or two.

  Nolan envied them. He wished he could be happy, too, but that would not be today.

  He missed his wife as much as he did the day it happened.

  Getting over that loss would take more time.

  He pulled out a bottle from underneath the car seat and took a long, hard swig.

  The alcohol burned the back of his throat, but at least it warmed his insides.

  Nolan started the car and drove away.

  FORTY

  The next morning Hyder went back to the Daily Times. What happened next surprised him: he was fired by Dunny.

  Her explanation, Hyder’s position as a temp, the illicit content found on his laptop, and the involvement of the FBI, had left the newspaper with no choice but to terminate his employment.

  Naturally, Hyder fought back. The content found on his computer was not put there by him, and the FBI had agreed with that fact. He did concede, however, that he was a temp, but that never diminished his ability to perform his duties.

  But in the end, there was nothing Hyder could do or say to save his job.

  The publisher was under pressure to reduce costs and Hyder had become too expensive, both financially and publicity-wise, to stay with the paper.

  If the competition even got a whiff of the FBI’s investigation of an employee of the Daily Times they would have a field day, Dunny had said.

  The Daily Times would not subject itself to such bad publicity. It was better to remove the worm, so to speak, rather than let it spoil the rest of the apple.

  With that Hyder was gone.

  He handed over his media credentials, grabbed whatever he could, and left the Daily Times. A security guard swiftly escorted him out the building.

  It happened so fast that Hyder didn’t even have time to say goodbye to his colleagues.

  On his way out, though, Lester motioned that he would call him.

  Hyder felt ashamed for having been fired. He had refused to make eye contact with any of his co-workers and was somewhat grateful that the guard removed him quickly from the premises.

  He went across the street to a coffee shop that he regularly visited with his co-workers.