All the roads leading to the other world

Early one morning, Aman's eyes brimmed with excitement as he woke me. He shared news of major breakthroughs in our ongoing case. Despite my profound exhaustion from a sleepless night spent wrestling with the intricacies of our investigation, I knew our mission was far from over. I requested Aman to return the following day, after my scheduled hospital discharge, to share the updates. He graciously agreed with a polite nod, leaving me to my contemplation. As I lay there, I couldn't help but reflect on Aman's unwavering professionalism and considerate demeanor, traits that defined him as a true gentleman in every sense of the word.

Amidst my customary morning routine, my thoughts were consumed by the complexities of our mysterious case. The haunting details loomed large in my mind, casting a shadow of uncertainty. Questions swirled incessantly: What had transpired? Where was the victim held captive? How many more innocent lives hung in the balance? And where had the elusive perpetrator concealed his victims? The darkest of scenarios unfolded in my imagination, an unending horror film that played out before my inner eye.

In the midst of this mental turmoil, just when a fleeting moment of solace emerged, Aman's abrupt arrival shattered my contemplation. His presence signaled the pressing urgency of our mission, and I was jolted back to the stark reality of the ongoing investigation that awaited us.

Aman's eager expression hinted at the weight of the information he carried, suggesting that significant developments awaited us. However, before delving into the current situation, let me provide some context regarding the case itself and shed light on why I had been granted access to the archives.

Aman and I had been partners since our time at the police academy. Our dynamic partnership earned us the moniker of the "dynamic duo" among our colleagues and superiors. It wasn't just a title; it reflected the seamless synergy we exhibited when tackling every case study and assignment that came our way. It seemed as if we possessed an almost supernatural sixth sense for investigations, our instincts rarely leading us astray.

Our partnership wasn't solely built on professional rapport. Aman and I were close friends, the kind who had each other's backs through thick and thin. Our trust in one another was unwavering, and our camaraderie extended far beyond the precinct walls.

Our story began one night when Aman and I were out enjoying ourselves, trying to relax after a long week of solving cases. We were carefree, simply looking to unwind. Little did we know that our night of fun would take an unexpected twist. We got a call about a hit-and-run incident and, being dedicated to our work, we headed to the scene to investigate.

As we examined the situation, it became clear that this wasn't a regular accident. Instead, we found clues that pointed to a ruthless murder that had been cleverly disguised as a hit-and-run.

Our instincts as detectives urged us to dig deeper into this case, to reveal the truth and make sure the person responsible faced justice. But our superiors at headquarters had different ideas. They wanted to dismiss the victim's death as an accident, attributing it to a drug overdose, and sweep the case under the rug. We couldn't accept this injustice, so we decided to continue our investigation quietly, away from the prying eyes of those who wanted to bury the truth.

The breakthrough in our case came when we received the results of the autopsy. It not only confirmed our suspicions but also unveiled a shocking revelation. The victim had not only been killed by a deliberate stabbing but had also ingested a large amount of cocaine. This made us absolutely certain that we were dealing with a murder, not an accident. Our quest for the truth led us down a risky and challenging path.

We were determined to bring the real culprits to justice, no matter the obstacles in our way. As we delved deeper into the case, we faced hidden motives, deceptions, and unforeseen difficulties. Yet, our commitment to seeking the truth was unwavering, and we were ready to confront whatever lay ahead, no matter the cost.

Our story took a startling twist when we realized that our victim was the leader of a major drug gang in our city. In our city, there were just two major groups involved in the drug trade. The leader of our victim's rival group held the upper hand. Both gangs got their drugs from the same supplier but at different prices and quantities. Our victim, however, had a cunning plan to outwit his rival. He secretly bought drugs from an unknown supplier at a much lower cost, which led to enormous profits for him. He even managed to win over the common supplier to his side.

This, of course, didn't sit well with his rivals. They patiently waited for the right moment to strike back. They drugged him and brutally stabbed him, making it look like a hit-and-run accident to hide their crime. We successfully arrested all the known drug dealers and suppliers within our reach, but a vital piece of the puzzle remained missing—the identity and whereabouts of the unknown supplier.

Our case drew attention, not for our dedication but for our refusal to accept the official explanation. In response, we were tasked with solving the case ourselves and given extraordinary access to the department's archives and resources. With our newfound authority and an unwavering commitment to uncover the truth, we plunged headlong into our investigation.

As I juggled these two cases in my mind, I couldn't help but think about how much I missed my friend, Aman, and the simpler times when our main concerns were celebrating our shared successes in the world of criminal justice.

Aman's voice snapped me out of my reverie. "Are you all right, Tarun?" he inquired.

"As good as new," I replied, eager to hear what he had to share.

He leaned in a serious expression on his face. "I hope you didn't catch wind of the recent serial killer case. It's been all over the news, but I trust you not to let it distract us from our own mission."

I admitted that I hadn't been keeping up with the news and expressed how much I had longed to work on our case. It wasn't the case itself that had put me in the hospital, but the immense burden of it all, especially the dark details from the 1960s that had weighed on me.

Aman understood my feelings and knew that our work was far from finished. He then shared some exciting news – we had made big strides in finding the mysterious drug supplier. This information filled me with anticipation and excitement, making my heart race with the possibilities that lay ahead.

Aman began to explain, "We've got a solid lead on where this supplier might be hiding. Our team has been closely monitoring a new drug dealer, and he's been sourcing his supply from an unusual location. It's neither on the border nor in any recognized country."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"Well, technically, it's located on the outskirts of India, but it's hidden beneath the surface," he explained, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"You mean underground?" I ventured.

"Bingo," Aman confirmed with a sly grin. "And the best part is, we have all the necessary permits and warrants. We're just waiting for your green light."

Just as I was getting ready to reply to Aman, my phone rang. It was the police officer who had visited me in the hospital. He had a lead on the serial killer, and his team was getting ready to go to a certain location. What shocked me was that this location was the very same underground hideout that Aman had just informed me about. 

A rush of mixed emotions and thoughts flooded my mind. It felt as though all the clues were pointing towards this mysterious underground place, and I couldn't shake the feeling that destiny was unfolding before my eyes. 

The path ahead was uncertain and filled with challenges, but I was prepared for whatever lay ahead. Maybe this would finally bring the closure we had been seeking for so long.