A Scandal of Sorts - Ch 9

On hearing about my father’s murder, my suspicions were confirmed and I was surprised in the least. I replied, ‘I knew a crime was being committed. And see what happened. My father and Ralph’s brother, both were murdered.’

‘Then you had wondered about its perplexing features.’

‘Why did this murder happen, Uncle?’

‘This organisation is brutal, in all sorts. It implements crimes, you can say. The person who wants to kill a particular person approaches this organisation, which charges the person large amounts of money. The murder is committed in the court, by sentencing the hapless person to death.’

‘But Uncle, how come you know such details? Do you know someone from inside the organisation?’

‘Research always helps, my boy. I studied the evidence in your father’s case. It was too obvious, and made it absolutely clear that your father was the criminal. However, if you ask me, if a criminal can commit a crime, he can also remain careful and make sure that the evidence doesn’t point towards him.

‘In your father’s case, the evidence was too obvious that it was clear that somebody else placed that evidence there after the crime was committed. Your father was innocent. A member of the organisation had committed the crime of which your father was accused and placed evidence pointing to your father. My 

brother was trapped in their web.

‘However, the court didn’t emphasize on the evidence, for the judge himself was the head of the organisation. Beginning to end, their victim is doomed.’

‘What had my father done to deserve this fate? Why did evil overcome the good?’

‘Your father had come to know of that organisation’s criminal nature and would have disclosed their secret if not for his murder. It happens such to the good. They die early. That’s why we mourn them. Because they die early…’

‘But Uncle, there must have been more people who would have lost their lives to this cold-blooded organisation.’

‘Yes! My sister, she had a fate no different!’ A tap, tap sound came from the direction of the open window. A tall woman in heels walked up to us and stood nervously.

‘Who are you? That was sudden,’ my uncle inquired, fidgeting.

‘I am Tia. I know who the head of the organisation is. I know where he is and I have the proof regarding his felony. For I was the member of the organisation, once.’