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It was during my early internship days when I was sent to the hills to report a landslide. In the next 12 hours I was in an unknown place, stuck in the landslide that I had to report. I felt lost in this place amongst hundreds of tourist, stuck, yearning their way back home. I was investigating when I met a stout man with a small bag, confused, stuck, looking for something in the crowd. He suddenly gained my attention and I felt that he had something good to offer about the incident. After approaching him, I understood he isn’t a tourist, a homicide detective by profession, looking for a shelter for the night as all the hotels were booked due to the utter chaos. I thought of offering to share mine as I was alone and could use a company and who knows, maybe he could devour something interesting. He willing accepted my offer and on our way back, he reported that he was here secretly to investigate a murder, murder of a driver of the IAS officer. Later in the evening he took me to the murder spot and with his torch started looking for something. I was scared as I felt the scorching bright light amidst the dark dull night might attract wild animals from the forest. He found something. I saw him picking it up and putting it in his pocket which he denied later. I wanted to question him further but suddenly we heard a loud sharp noise approaching us, I was horrified but the detective was pretty calm to the contrary. It was the IAS officer who found us at the murder spot. Gazillion questions followed to which we remarked that we were only tourists and were lost in the woods. I understood the eye of suspicion didn’t believe us and we left being informed that there was a murder in that place and lurking so late at night was not safe. The detective seemed deaf to such instructions offering a friendly conversation with the officer, so much so that he managed to get an invitation for tea the next day evening. That night was a sleepless one, questions of the evening didn’t leave my mind and those that the detective won’t answer. The next day evening while sipping tea amidst the beautiful garden at the officer’s abode, the detective chose to sit inside saying he was cold. I knew he was lying, hence followed him to unravel the truth. He was a keen observer. All of sudden he picked up a beautiful yet costly stone from the showcase to find out that the officer was an ardent lover of antiques and precious stones. On our way back, the detective reported to the police station disclosing his real identity, divulging he found out who the murderer was. He promised to disclose the same at the officer’s house that evening. On our way back he would talk to me about everything but the murder. That evening was much awaited. As we approached the house, we understood the police were before time. On entering the officer welcomed us to question about the murderer. The answer came straight and loud from the detective that it was him. He was shocked, baffled and laughed loud thinking that to be a joke. The detective questioned him about the whereabouts of the cover of the antique knife that was hanging on the wall to which the officer replied that he lost it some weeks ago. The detective still determined, questioning him if he bought the knife with the blood stains on it and the officer was taken aback. To my surprise the detective took out the cover from his pocket, laying it on the table said he found it in the murder spot the night he met the officer. In a fit of anger and delusion the officer confessed about the murder, also the night they met him in the woods, he was there to find the lost cover. On questioning him further we came to know that he smuggled the precious stone and antiques and his long established business was put to stake when his driver found it.