The Hunt for Truth
Sury Patru Viswam
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Sury Patru Viswam
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either products of author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, or events is purely coincidental.
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Copyright 2020 by Surendra Viswam
All rights reserved.
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Sury Patru Viswam is the pseudonym of Surendra Viswam.
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No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the copyright owner, except as permitted by the U.S. copyright law. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank You for your support of the author’s rights.
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Published by Nava Waves Publishers LLC, U.S.A.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
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Cover design by Nava Waves Publishers.
First edition
ISBN – 978-1-952906-00-8 (eBook)
ISBN – 978-1-952906-01-5 (Paperback)
ISBN – 978-1-952906-02-2 (Hardcover)
For Indu and Akash
From the luckiest person in the world
1
September 11, 2001
1:30 AM
Delaware
* * *
The darkness of the night was flooded with a blinding flash as lightning pierced through the sky. It was then followed by an explosive thunder that shattered the stillness of the night. Within a few seconds, the sky opened up, and rain came crashing down from the heavens.
In the dark hours of the night, the off-road which takes you to New Castle County, the northernmost county of the state of Delaware, can always be counted to be deserted. It was precisely what the young couple, Chris and Anna Hendrix, hoped for when they took the exit leading to this secluded road. Both of them were pretty hammered as they left the sports bar, and they did not want to get pulled over by a cop. They were out late celebrating Chris getting an offer to join one of the top firms in the state. Getting a DUI is the last thing you need if you want to stay and grow in any prestigious firm.
Anna leaned over to turn up the volume as the song, “With or Without You,” came on the radio.
“Do you remember?” Anna, visibly drunk, started to mouth the lyrics of one of the most romantic songs.
“Baby, how can I not!” Chris leaned over and kissed Anna on her full lips.
“What? What? Say it,” Anna began to slurp her words.
“You are crazy to even think that I would forget,” Chris placed his right hand on Anna’s legs.
“Say it. Say it.” Anna’s voice began to quiver as Chris’s hand began to slowly caress her upper thighs.
Chris stole a moment away from the meandering road to kiss Anna deeply and said, “Our song. The song we danced in our prom, before I …” Before Chris could complete his thought, Anna was on top of him; removing her top; kissing and full-on making out with him.
“Anna….” Chris moaned as Anna placed his hand on her breasts and helped him fondle.
“Let me pull over.” As Chris began to pull over, Anna said, “No. Keep going. This reminds me of so much of our first road trip in college.” Anna, sitting on top of Chris, twisted her body and hit the control to open the convertible top.
“Now, let us go back in time,” Anna provocatively said, and ramped up the sexual temperature.
Chris, now barely able to keep his eyes on the curvy road, began to kiss on her breasts. The car started to swerve on the meandering path, and somehow Chris managed to miraculously keep it on the road and not crash into the woods.
Anna raised herself from Chris’s lap and unzipped him. “Mr. Big Shot,” Anna whispered in a sexually charged way and began to reach down.
Chris closed his eyes, surrendering his senses as Anna began to go down on him.
Thud. There was a sudden burst of loud sound as the car struck something, and it went flying over the top of the car, banging the windshield on its way.
“What the hell happened!” Chris screamed, trying to regain control of the vehicle as it began to swerve from the collision’s impact. The impact threw Anna backward, and her head coiled backward, hitting the dashboard.
“Oh no, oh no… I am bleeding, what the ….” Anna cursed, seeing the bloody cut on her forehead.
“Stop. Stop. This is so bad. I think I hit….” Chris struggled to say the words, looking back at the road.
“What, silly. Have you never hit a deer? Trust me; it happens to people.”
Chris opened the door in a hurry and sprinted twenty yards before kneeling on the road.
Anna could hear Chris sobbing but couldn’t see what made him cry.
Anna quickly slid her top over her head and rushed towards Chris.
“Honey, what…?” Anna stopped her question mid-way as her eyes landed on the body lying on the road. They didn’t kill a deer; they killed a man. They killed a human being. He was lying on the asphalt in a pool of blood, and he certainly was not moving.
“Oh god, he is dead,” Anna shouted hysterically. “What should we do…”
Chris placed his hand over his head and bawled, “I am screwed. This is all over.”
In the meantime, Anna moved a few yards in either direction, examining the place for any activity.
“We should go,” Anna said coldly.
“What?”
“Let’s go.” Anna began to walk towards the car.
“We can’t just leave the body here. We have to call the police.”
“You stupid! If we do that, we are doomed.”
“But…” Chris stopped talking when he heard a loud gasp. The night was dark and silent, and even a mumbled gasp echoed loudly to Chris and Anna’s ears.
Chris and Anna rushed towards the sound and noticed the man lying on the road was coughing up blood.
“He is not dead!” Anna screamed.
Before she finished her sentence, the man’s eyes closed, and he seemed to be drifting away.
“Hey, don’t die on us.” Chris checked his pulse and began to do CPR.
“We have to call 911. He is not going to last long.” Chris drew his Nokia phone.
Anna abruptly pulled the phone from Chris’s hand before he could dial 911.
“What are you doing?”
“Saving your life before you flush it down the drain.”
Seeing Chris’ ‘I don’t understand’ look, Anna continued, “If you make this call, our life as we know it is over. We both are drunk, and we can’t claim that he came out of nowhere. Most certainly, you will end up going to jail.”
“We can’t leave him here to die. Now knowing he is still alive, we can’t do that.” Chris slowly uttered the words.
“I know. I am not saying we should do that.”
“What do you propose?”
“Do you remember the emergency phone near the…”
“Mile 24 marker,” Chris finished her thought.
“Exactly. We should call from that phone. Anonymously.”
“That will take at least ten minutes to call. He might die.”
“I don’t see any other option that would not land you in jail.”
Chris glanced at the man lying on the road, one last time, before walking away.
2
September 12, 2001
Germantown, Philadelphia
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A woman, who was visibly pregnant, gingerly entered a police precinct in Germantown, a suburb in northern Philadelphia. She was feeling nervous and looked visibly worried as she slowly made her way towards the desk officer. This was her first time to a police precinct, not just in this town, but in her life.
“Hello, Officer,” she said with an anxious voice.
The desk officer, who seemed occupied with papers in front of him, motioned his hand for her to wait. She obliged the command of the male police officer without any hesitation. For all of her life, her parents preached that she should obey the police without any questions or attitude. If not, they said you will end up beaten, or worse, you will disappear.
“What can I do for you, Ms.…” The officer looked up at the young woman, who was patiently standing behind the booth.
“Sania Tariq – my name,” the young woman replied.
“Ms. Tariq, what can I do for you?” the officer asked as he answered a call on his phone.
Sania did not want to disturb the officer while he attended the call and waited patiently. The main area of the precinct looked odd; it was frantic. It resembled more of a marketplace in her hometown in India than a police precinct.
What do I know? Maybe it is always buzzing, Sania thought to herself.
“Ms…,” the desk officer’s voice interrupted the swirling thoughts in her head.
“Sania Tariq,” Sania replied.
“Yes, Ms. Tariq, what can I do for you?” the desk officer asked.
Sania’s heart was thumping hard as the words, “My husband is missing. I am here to find out about him,” escaped her mouth.
“Has the case been filed?”
Sania nodded anxiously.
“When?”
“Yesterday. 9/11,” Sania’s voice trembled.
The officer’s demeanor changed instantly when he heard the date – 9/11.
“Sorry to hear that,” the officer said with a concerned tone.
Sania nodded to appreciate the officer’s concern.
“Was he working in the towers?” the officer questioned.
“No,” Sania shook her head.
“Was he working in New York?”
Sania shook her head.
“Was he visiting ….”
Sania was getting tired of the questions, and she interrupted the officer. “He was not in New York.”
“What do you mean? You said it is related to 9/11.” The officer gave her a quizzing look.
“No, no.” She shook her head vigorously, which she seemed to do a lot whenever she got nervous. It was often a gesture that was ridiculed by her friends in the past.
“I meant he disappeared on 9/11. It is not related to 9/11….” She searched for the words.
“Terrorist attacks,” the officer completed her sentence.
“Yes, yes. He went missing on that day, but not in New York.”
“Do you want to file a case?” The officer’s tone changed; it was still warm but not emotionally invested.
“I already did.” Sania went on to explain that she called 911 the previous night and filed a missing person report over the phone.
“On the phone, the 911 operator mentioned that an officer would call or stop by to gather pictures and additional information about my husband.” Sania raised the folder she had in her left hand.
“I see. I can take it from you and make sure it gets to the detective in charge.” The officer motioned his hand to request for the folder.
Sania hesitated for a moment before handing the file to the officer. “Officer, can I talk to the detective?”
“You mean to the detective assigned?”
Sania nodded.
“Let me see.” The officer’s fingers danced on the keyboard. “Hmm. He is not here at this moment.”
“I can wait,” Sania said, almost in a pleading tone.
“Sorry, it would take a while. You know, with what happened yesterday, the whole unit is at an emergency meeting. I can’t tell how long it would be.”
Sania understood the situation. It was not just her; the whole country was on edge. She had lived through horrible terrorist attacks in her home country, the 1993 bomb blasts in Mumbai, India. But she had never imagined that she would revisit the same kind of barbaric senseless attacks in her adopted country. Her heart stopped when she saw the towers come down yesterday. It was not just her, but the whole country felt the same.
It had been over forty-five minutes since Sania decided to wait to meet with the detective assigned to her husband’s case. Sania was feeling tired, anxious, and exhausted. She hadn’t slept well for the last two days, and, given her condition, being eight months pregnant, it was not ideal to abandon sleep. She was also feeling hungry.
Is it proper to feel hungry and sleepy when your husband is missing? Sania battled with her thoughts, but biology doesn’t take a backseat to emotions.
“Ms. Tariq.” Sania glanced sideways towards the direction of the sound.
“Sorry to inform you that …” The desk officer was interrupted by a female voice who called out Sania by her first name.
“Sania, is that you?” a female detective said, approaching Sania and the desk officer.
“Arya …?” Sania said, struggling to stand up to meet the young female detective.
Arya Martins is a police detective in the Philadelphia Police Department. When she got promoted to the rank of detective a few years before, it became a news story, and she got interviewed in the local evening news. The news interest was not because she was a celebrity kid; it was because she was a trailblazer. Arya was the youngest woman to wear a detective badge in the city of Philadelphia.
Arya’s smile beamed when Sania rose from her chair, and her large pregnant tummy showed. “What? You are pregnant!” Arya went past the standing desk officer and gave a very friendly embrace to Sania.
“Sit, sit.” Arya held Sania’s hands and helped her to her chair.
“I can’t believe I just ran into you after all these years, and that too in here.” Arya raised her hands to gesture how odd it is to run into Sania in a police precinct.
Sania smiled, but her eyes were filling up with tears.
“What happened? Why are you crying?” Arya leaned closer to give another hug to Sania.
“Must be the pregnancy,” Sania wiped her tears.
“How many months? Nine?” Arya placed her right hand on Sania’s large belly.
“Eight.”
“Wow! Look at you; you are glowing!” A
rya exclaimed.
“Who knocked you up, and where is he?” Arya joked.
Sania’s eyes started to fill up, and she shifted her eyes from Arya towards the desk officer.
“Ms. Tariq is here to follow up on a case involving her husband,” the desk officer chimed in.
“What? Did he do something to you?” Arya asked with genuine concern for her friend.
“No, no…. He is missing.” Sania teared up as the words escaped her mouth, and the tears started to roll down her cheeks.
Sania’s sudden outburst created a scene in the precinct, and multiple officers’ gaze shifted towards Arya. Sania was now visibly shaking and weeping audibly, resting her head across Arya’s shoulders.
Arya, taken aback by the sudden revelation, took a moment to process the information.
“Okay. It’s okay,” Arya mouthed inaudibly to let the other officers in the precinct know that she had it covered.
It took almost a minute before Sania got hold of herself and regained composure.
“Sorry I got your nice shirt wet,” Sania said, seeing her tears on Arya’s white shirt made of silk.
“Nah. Don’t be silly.” Arya waved her right hand, quickly dismissing the silliness of Sania’s worry.
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