Dust and Rock
(1)
As she looked out of the window, she couldn’t help reflect bow secluded this place was. This was a new thing that was happening with her lately – wherever she went, she would look at it and feel a sense of emptiness. Anwesha had read that it was never done for a detective – and one with as specific skill set and as high a reputation to maintain as she – to dwell on the poetic when it was time to work. And yet she felt her mind often slip towards languid reminiscing.
As she shook her head violently to get back in the game, she wondered whether it would be a permanent condition for her, and this secluded place near the southern fringes of the city with its colonial demeanour and austere ambience was certainly not helping. The museum of the Archaeological Survey of India was perhaps the least visited public building in the world, Anwesha found herself wondering if many even knew of the existence of this institution. Finding it would have been difficult even for her had it not been for Google Maps and the college trip she had taken long back, such a long time ago……
As Anwesha sensed her mind start to tip back into the foggy security of reminiscent musings, she shook her head again. This won’t do! She had to be prepared and ready for whatever lay ahead – and going by the tone of the Director General of the ASI – the matter was very grave indeed. Although the DG who was on an official visit to the city from Delhi hadn’t given her any details of the incident, he had sounded worried and – again Anwesha wondered if she had imagined it – scared. It was that second impression that lay behind Anwesha Parui –DCDD (retired) Kolkata Police – sitting in the Director General’s office in this dreary May afternoon.
A small clicking noise shook Anwesha out of the stream of idle reveries. She looked at the man who had entered through the door, sizing him up in a few moments. “Strong chin, decisive; creases on forehead, sharp eyes, man of learning; Lines around the mouth, used to giving orders, sarcastic in nature, arrogant.” Quick assessments like these were part of Anwesha’s specific skill set that had allowed her to survive through many dangerous situations in the past.
The man had extended his right arm forward. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Parui, I only wish it weren’t under such difficult circumstances,” he smiled a rather trying smile. “Not overly friendly, not used to attend social circles and matter-of-fact, seeing as how he got to business immediately”, thought Anwesha as she took his hand and shook it. She wondered how this no-nonsense man had found his way to the highest post in one of the country’s most important and revered institutions, especially when promotions in public service seemed increasingly falling dependent on nepotistic bargains.
Of course, one of the perks of being an ex-cop was that she could do some nepotistic manipulations of her own to get the information she needed and she had done just that in this case. The internet was a strange place. While it afforded reams upon reams of digital paper to celebrity marriages it could spare only fifteen lines to document the life of the man who was working day and night ti save and safeguard India’s history and natural heritage. So she had done her homework on Ananth Chopra, the Director General of the Archeological Survey of India, before coming here. What she had seen in those few moments had matched the reports she had gleaned from her former colleagues. So what she really wondered was that what had got this steadfast, arrogant, yet dynamic man so much on edge?
