The sound of the walking stick on the tiled pavement sounded eerie, just as the figure that held it, which appeared inhuman in the dark moonless night. His breath came in hoarse wheezes as he limped ahead in the dead of the night. He stomped away with a purpose, not caring a damn for the homeless, sleeping on the pavement. He was their king, and they were his subjects, no better than rodents, who were now chewing away on their hands and feet that had crept out of their torn blankets. It was a pathetic scene as some tired souls stirred, trying to shoo away the hungry rodents, while some others who are too weak to move are living their death. It was their fate.

He reached the mouth of an alley and stopped; in his way stood a masked figure. The limping man remained motionless, now watching the figure approach him with a knife glinting in his hands.

"Give me your valuables" whispered the masked figure as he came near while lifting his knife over his head and bringing it upon the limping man.

The hand that came down stopped inches away from the old man's shoulder. There was a soft groan, and the masked figure stiffened. After a few seconds, the knife dropped down to the ground with a cling.

The attacker staggered backward and slowly crumpled to the ground holding his stomach, a small groan escaping his lips. His wide eyes were staring at a metal shining in the hands of the limping man and then he went still.

Bending down from his waist, the man wiped clean his long blade on the dead man's clothes and hid it away on himself. For him nothing was more valuable than life, and that he would not part with.

He peered into the darkness for any movement and then tottered away into the unlit alley.

The tapping ended abruptly followed by a distant knocking somewhere in the alley. As an answer, a door creaked open and then closed. Once inside, the man hobbled on his stick through a narrow corridor into a candlelit room. 

Standing in the middle, he scanned the room with a scowl on his face. And on spotting a chair near the table, hirpled towards it. the other piece of furniture was a worn-out cupboard and a small bed. The candlelight partially lighted his face as he rid himself of the blanket. Even the flame seemed to waver at the sight of that ugly face with blisters all over. The man who let him in stood at the doorway cast down his eyes, unable to look at the man he hated the most.

"You didn't get anywhere else to stay?"The man with a limp asked with a taunting gruff voice, "It's a rat hole." He completed with an angry chuckle.

'It's what I could afford to show off right now without arousing anyone's suspicion."

"What's the news?"

"The police have arrested Boran. The tea vendor had the missing papers, unknown to him. it seems the woman, Miss Sakhi, discovered it." 

"Boran, has he taken our names?

"No, there is no mention of it in the papers. But Boran admitted to plotting the conspiracy."

"He is family, but that is no consideration, can't afford to play lenient. You know what to do."

"But he is your right-hand man......." he began, but the red eyes that bore into him stilled all the protests he was going to make.

The newspaper strewn on the table caught the guest's attention. his eyes skimmed over it, and he picked up one which interested him. his eyebrows screwed. It displayed the photo of three people. Swearing, he slammed the paperback on the table with sudden fury.

The man at the door identified the picture.

"That's the snap of the people involved in solving the Bali murder case," he informed.

The seated man had his knife out in a blink and began to stab continuously at the paper on one of the figures in the photo. The other man staggered back in fright.

"I...want...to...kill...him...ahh...ahh. Bring...him...to...me." He rasped in anger continuing to stab at the now torn paper, "So...many...years...I...have...lived in fear... now...I...can...have...peace...after...killing...him." He ranted and then in another instant was on his feet with the knife at the throat of the other man. The host though healthy, could only stick himself to the wall with his eyes wide with fear and now sweating profusely. Although elder than him, the limping man stood a head taller and had robust health.

"I don't need anything now...only...HIM...do...you...understand! He whispered menacingly as a drop of blood tricked down the other man's throat.

"I...want...him...alive...alive...no scratch...on...him...and...at...Ghatti! Don't lose sight of him! Track his every movement. He must come to Ghatti of his own free will." He whispered hoarsely into the frightened man's ears.

"Yes...Yes..., I..., understand, will do as you wish." He agreed quickly, and the pressure eased on him. He rubbed the burning area, which sort of stung him, and he found his fingers wet with blood.

He then looked at his mad attacker standing with his back towards him. Furious, his hands began to creep behind him to fetch the knife, but stilled midway as the other man spoke.

"I know you want to kill me, but before your hand reaches the knife, you will find one stabbed through your heart" he said and then there was a thud on the table, where he threw a bunch of notes.

The man limped forward towards the chair and after retrieving his stick and blanket turned around and slowly began his walk out. As he reached the other man near the door, he stopped beside him.

"Some money for your work and remember I want an update every day," he said and limped back out of the house into the alley and the way he came, not bothering to look at the dead body that lay on the ground with rats already making a meal of it.