It was a beautiful morning on a beautiful island in paradise. It was still early and only relatively hot, so I reconsidered my previous opinion and upgraded the status of Tutuila back to heavenly. I was out on my balcony on the third floor with a cup of coffee in my hand, welcoming the rising sun and enjoying the fresh ocean air.

It’s really weird how people believe that everything magically changes in their lives if they simply change their place of residence. I felt like I was starting a new life here, with all my mistakes left in the dismal past. I was a new Murphy—a positive one, full of energy, and willing to think before acting, unlike how I used to do back in Greenland.

I sipped my coffee and took a deep breath, happy and full of thrilling new emotions. The ocean waves splashed not far from my hotel, and the airport noise couldn’t be heard on this side of the building. There was a notable laziness in the air—no rush or heavy traffic, no hurrying. I could even hear the birds singing, which felt strange. Indigenous guys sat on benches in the nearby park, just like the tourists, and even though many of them looked like someone who barely made ends meet, they weren’t worried at all. They were smiling and joking, unlike the people in my motherland, where everybody was neurotic and paranoid as if the end of the world was coming soon and they weren’t ready for it. Here, obviously, nobody cared about the future.

I put my cup on the balcony’s ledge and looked at the street. The area in front of my hotel was peaceful and dormant, too, and I could sense the smell of urine mixed with the usual sweetness of the tropical air. I actually detected this weird “odor” of the city the previous day at the airport, but I thought a particular toilet was causing the problem. Weirdly enough, it turned out the smell didn’t vary from place to place, and eventually, I had to presume they had general issues with toilets here on the island. It was as if the entire Pago Pago was soaked in it. Nevertheless, it wasn’t obtrusive and didn’t bother me too much. I was far away from Greenland and the Chinese, and it was all that mattered.

Besides this small detail, there was another bizarre thing about this place, which I noticed pretty soon. When I leaned over the balcony’s railing to absorb more of Tutuila’s sluggishly charming atmosphere, I saw a burning house not far away. It was a couple hundred meters down the street, and just like at the airport, nobody was paying any attention to it. People seemed totally indifferent as if a burning house was nothing more than a singing bird in a tree. I looked at it for a while and assumed they had fire issues here, too. Just then, when I felt I was nearly falling off the balcony for leaning too much, the telephone in my room unexpectedly rang, startling me. It was probably the man from the reception because nobody else knew I was here, and I went inside to answer it.

“Good morning, Mr. Mellrow! I hope you’ve slept well in our lovely hotel.” A soft and pleasant girl’s voice came from the other end of the line—the guys down there had obviously switched this morning. “Could you please come for a moment? There is a person in the lobby who wants to see you.”

“Who wants to see me?” I asked, puzzled, and foreboding suspicion immediately started to crawl up my spine.

“It’s Inspector Gzundis from the police. Please, come!”

The girl hung up.

I stood surprised and still for a while longer, with the handset pressed against my ear. I didn’t dare move, as if my passiveness would protect me from further trouble. Then, I suddenly felt the entire world collapsing upon me. It was the end of my dream of a new life and leaving my mistakes in the dismal past! My first reaction was to jump down from the balcony and crawl with my broken limbs all the way to the airport to take an airplane to the dark side of the moon. The moon, however, was almost four hundred thousand kilometers away, and it wasn’t much of a plan. Besides, living in constant fear wasn’t exactly an escape, so maybe I just had to surrender instead and go straight to jail. At least this way, I would spare myself the struggle and live a simpler life without empty illusions.

A few moments later, completely devastated, I put down the handset and looked around my room for one last time. It seemed so lovely and quiet, with the magnificent view of the ocean in the distance and the four palm trees in front of the hotel. I didn’t even get to enjoy this for a complete day! Suddenly, the idea of running away grasped my mind again, but then I went back to the simplicity of jail life. There was no point in hiding, and I knew it. I sighed heavily and went to the door.

Outside in the corridor, I walked to the staircase and descended as slowly as possible, as if I had been sentenced to death and wanted to prolong the moment of freedom a little bit more. In the lobby, the receptionist met me with a happy smile pasted on her face as if she thought I had just won the lottery. She was a beautiful Indian girl with long, dark hair and black, shiny eyes. She wore a sari.

“Over there, Mr. Mellrow!” she exuberantly waved her hand. “Through the glass door!”

I turned my head sourly and looked at where she was pointing. There was a door to my left, and beyond, I could see a large hall furnished with beige corner couches and small glass-topped tables in front of each. In the back of the hall was a counter with shelves full of bottles and glasses. The place was the lobby bar, which I had wanted to visit the previous night but skipped because I felt tired. I had hoped to have a chance to do it on a far more pleasurable occasion, but that was obviously lost now. With a sinking heart, I walked toward the door and opened it, and then I stopped, bewildered. The two hot chicks I saw at the airport—the brunette and the blonde—sat on one of the couches, their eyes fixed on me! I nervously looked around, but no one else was in the bar—not even a bartender.

“One of them must be Inspector Gzundis, then,” I thought, feeling weirdly hopeful with a sense of irrational anticipation. I suddenly started thinking that this island was really heaven after all!

“Good morning, Mr. Mellrow! I’m Inspector Gzundis, Peularia Gzundis.” The blonde stood up to meet me, holding her hand out when I approached her. She was in her early thirties, not very tall, with soft features and clean, pale skin. Her bluish-gray eyes were probing and curious, and her lips were thin and resolute. She wore casual khaki trousers with a dark blue flower-patterned, slightly transparent blouse. She was a beautiful woman.

I eagerly grabbed her hand and found that the touch of her skin was silky, but her handshake was firm. The scent of white orchid and kiwi gently brushed my nostrils when she turned to introduce her friend to me.

“This is my assistant, Nereidi.”

The assistant was quite a different type. She was a tall and skinny girl—barely twenty—with a dreamy look on her face. She was an Indian, but her eyes were green and playful like the ocean, and her skin was light brown, like milk with just a few drops of chocolate in it. She wore a long yellow dress with patches of various pastel colors. Its fabric was soft and delicate.

The girl just looked at me, smiling.

“I would like to ask you a few questions, Mr. Mellrow, if you don’t mind,” Gzundis informed me after we sat down.

Resting on the corner segment of the couch to their right, I said, “Okay, shoot! I have nothing to hide.” I wanted to appear cheerful, but my nervousness made my voice coarse and secretive. I sounded like the Worshipful Master of the Masonic Lodge in the medieval ages, assigning tasks to his apprentices in a dark, underground hall.

“First, what is the purpose of your trip down here?” Peularia asked me without any sign of uneasiness about her question. I kind of expected it because all the people on this island were like this, obviously.

“Well, it’s business!” I followed the pattern I had established at the airport.

“Which is what exactly?” she insisted.

I frowned and looked at her, mildly annoyed. The customs officer didn’t do that!

“Look, Mr. Mellrow,” the inspector explained herself before I answered, which saved me the effort of having to come up with a credible lie too quickly. “Just so you don’t think I’m being rude, I’m going to tell you that I’m very well aware you’re a PI, and you came from Greenland, where you were filed as a witness to a murder case. I’m also aware you were not supposed to leave there, but you did, and now I just want to know why!”

She kept looking at me calmly, but her gaze was pretty intense. Her eyes didn’t divert or blink when they met mine.

“Well, in this case, you know a bit more than I hoped you would.” I tried to buy some time. I wanted to match my tone as closely to the serenity of her voice as possible, but unfortunately, I didn’t do a very good job because I couldn’t control myself well. “How did you know it, by the way?”

“So?” She didn’t take the bait. “Why did you leave?”

It’s… complicated.” I started beating around the bush, searching my mind for something convincing. “I came to clarify some side aspects of the… case I’m working on.”

“And what side aspects are they? Are they related to the murder case in question?”

“Well, partly, they are,” I mumbled uneasily, perfectly aware that I had no license to investigate anything here. In fact, I had no license, even in Greenland now. “My case turned out to be a complete mess, you know, but I believe the persons involved may have come here, so I wanted to check that up.”

Until then, Nereidi was just sitting with her left leg crossed over the right one and her hands resting peacefully in her lap. She looked dreamily at me with her head slightly tilted to the side like a little girl, but now, she suddenly moved her right hand, resting it over Peularia’s left hand. A moment later, she started gently kneading her boss’ fingers.

“Then it means you’ve really come to continue your investigation here!” Miss Gzundis deduced from my loose explanation while not reacting to what her assistant was doing.

“Well, not exactly! As I mentioned, I came to… I just came to see if they were here, is all.” I tried to soothe her suspicion without telling her the truth because I knew she wouldn’t like it. “I truly don’t mean to investigate anything. My permit’s not valid in your country, actually.”

After saying that, I stopped, trying to make sense of the situation without making it too obvious. It was hard, though. My mind was full of suspicions because it was clear that I had been closely watched during my flight. Although I thought the GBI central database might be connected to Greenland’s airport system, I doubted the police in the South Pacific Confederation had access to any of them. And yet, they obviously knew things! It indicated that either the authorities in my motherland had contacted their colleagues down here or the latter had other sources of information, which was weird because they couldn’t know I was coming.

“You know what, Miss Gzundis?” In the next second, I rushed ahead of the inspector’s next question because I wanted us to establish some ground rules before continuing this. Since I wasn’t exactly a suspect in the SPC, I felt I had the right to know what was going on. “I’ll be happy to give you the information you want, but I need you to answer a question of mine before going further. Would that be okay with you?” At that moment, Nereidi, who still had her eyes on me, suddenly gave me a playful smile and a barely noticeable wink as if encouraging my little rebellion. I saw it from the corner of my eye; she changed her expression very briefly.

“Of course. Just ask it.” Peularia invited me politely, even though she wasn’t pleased with my stalling.

“It’s what I wanted to know a few minutes ago: I wondered who told you I was coming here? You see, it might not seem important to you, but it is to me because I have reasons to believe I have been followed and that my life is in danger!”

Gzundis kept her eyes on mine for a while, scrutinizing me, and then affectionately squeezed her assistant’s fingers in her hand. “Our island is quite small, Mr. Mellrow,” she explained afterward. “It’s not Greenland here, and sometimes you don’t need to look for information; it simply finds you!”

“No, I can see that, but I only just arrived! And it’s not just information; you practically knew everything about me. You even knew the hotel I’d checked into!”

The inspector smiled meaningfully, and Nereidi’s eyes rapidly ping-ponged between Peularia and me to see our expressions as if we were on a dual or something. There was a notable air of adoration in the girl’s eyes when she looked at her boss’. She was a strange and quiet creature, and her reaction showed me she wasn’t deaf—maybe she just couldn’t speak.

“To be completely honest with you, I was tipped about your coming,” Gzundis admitted after a while, and her words immediately confirmed my worst fears. “I received an anonymous phone call yesterday.”

“Anonymous?” I raised my eyebrows, confused. The assistant’s eyes kept dancing between us. “Do you always take anonymous phone calls so seriously?”

“No, not always,” Peularia explained calmly. “Just in this case. They said a murder suspect was trying to escape charges in Greenland. This is a very serious felony, as you know, and since the hotel here is the closest to the airport and the possible first choice for a desperate man who comes without planning, I just decided to come and check it out. Wouldn’t an inspector in your country do the same thing in this situation?”

The Indian girl smiled, beaming, and slowly turned toward her boss, leaning down. Her lips almost touched the inspector’s shoulder, but just a millimeter before the contact, she swiveled her head, resting her cheek there. Then she nestled her slender body into Peularia’s side like a little kitten and looked at me. The scent of raspberry and orchid mixed and brushed my face again, just like at the airport.

“So, are you turning me in now?” I asked, almost embarrassed by the intimate gesture I saw.

“Turning you in for what?” Peularia asked. “Nobody has issued an order for you, and besides, if you ask me, your involvement in the murder case is rather dubious. No, I just want to make sure you won’t make my day unnecessarily busy!”

“You see, I’m not here seeking trouble, Miss Gzundis,” I said thoughtfully, having difficulty focusing on the conversation. Nereidi was still looking fixedly at me, and as we spoke, she kicked off her sandals, folding her right leg under her left one on the sofa. The edge of her dress rode up, revealing her gorgeous thighs. “I can see you have enough problems with crime already.”

Peularia cocked her head, puzzled, still showing no reaction to her assistant’s naughty cuddling. The lack of reaction, however, was a gesture of acceptance in this case, and it was weird because I was watching everything from a couple of feet away.

“What do you mean by that? Why do you think we have problems?” The inspector wanted to know.

“Well, I’ve witnessed two explosions in less than twelve hours—one at the airport yesterday and one down the street early this morning. Two houses were damaged, and the second one is still burning, I guess. You may have seen it on your way here!”

Gzundis’ face was suddenly relaxed.

“Oh, don’t worry about that! Someone must be making mona again. It happens all the time.”

Now, it was my turn to look at her, puzzled.

“Mona is the local word for ammonia,” she explained. “The indigenous people try to obtain it in numerous ways, most of them dangerous and absurd. Greenspace is actually to blame. They’re buying up the stuff, and it galvanizes the poor folks here.”

“They buy ammonia from people? But why would they do that?” I asked, intrigued because I remembered Menelaus himself was buying up chemical factories around the globe.

“How would I know that? It’s just their business. There is a trade hub on the island of Ofu, and the entire region is crazy about it. Almost every household has some kind of installation, but the process of producing the stuff is rarely successful. It often ends up with terrible explosions, and it smells terrible, too. You may have already noticed that!”

Gzundis’ left hand unexpectedly moved behind her assistant’s back, and she embraced her gently, with her fingers caressing the girl’s naked shoulder. The latter pressed her body closer to Peularia’s and moved her other leg on the sofa, folding it beside her bottom and putting me in quite an awkward situation. Her intimate zone was right in front of me now, and she didn’t seem to wear any underwear. I tried not to look there openly because both women had eyes on me, but it was hard. The scene reminded me too much of how it all started back in my office in Greenland. At the same time, I desperately wanted to ask the inspector about that trade hub on Ofu, but I didn’t know how to do it without raising her suspicion.

“So, how long did you say you were staying on Tutuila, Mr. Mellrow?” She asked me after a second, giving me a reason to keep my eyes on her face. Her tone was still calm and pacifying, and I felt hopeful about her intentions.

“I haven’t thought about that yet,” I answered, slightly turning to the left so I wouldn’t be tempted to look at Nereidi’s lap. “It won’t be for too long, I guess. My idea was only to check on the guys, nothing more.”

“And what are you going to do when the checking is over?”

“I’m going back to Greenland to close my case.”

“You mean the murder case you are a witness to?”

“No, I can’t close that one. It’s a police business!”

“What are you going to close then?” Miss Gzundis’ eyes searched for the answer in mine. Suddenly, they looked cold. With Nereidi’s head on her shoulder and looking at me, too, it felt really weird.

“I don’t think you understand the situation,” I cautiously tried to explain. “My presence at the crime scene in Greenland was purely accidental. The victims were not my case, and I was involved while investigating something completely different. But then it happened, and some of the people who were initially part of my case turned out to be connected to this horrible crime. So, I’m not investigating the murders per se, but the possible connection between the two things. By the way, one of the murdered guys was very rich, and I think he has a huge business project here on the neighboring island. I’m sure you’ve heard of him; his name is Menelaus Henry DuPon.”

“You know what? It sounds to me as though you’re really investigating that murder here, Mr. Mellrow!” Gzundis grimly shook her head without taking her eyes off me. Her expression was bleak.

“No, it just seems like that,” I denied. “I don’t mean to interact or something. I promise I’ll return to Greenland as soon as I have the information I need because it’ll help me get out of the terrible mess I’ve gotten myself into back there. That’s all!”

“Because if you do intend to investigate a murder case here,” the inspector ignored my explanation, her voice still harsh, “you should know you won’t do it over my head, which means you won’t do it ever! You can bring a lot of trouble upon yourself if you don’t behave. Do you understand me? I hope you’re perfectly aware of this!”

Nereidi sharply raised her head and looked at Peularia with reverence and even veneration. She smoothly stretched her neck toward her, this time with her lips lightly touching her boss’ neck. Then she pulled back a little. The girl was literally moving in slow motion.

“I’m aware of it, Miss Gzundis,” I said like hypnotized.

The inspector didn’t say anything else, but she kept her eyes on me, and all the while, her fingers caressed Nereidi’s shoulder. Then she suddenly removed her hand from there, preparing to stand up.

“Okay, Mr. Mellrow! I think that’s enough for now. If you think there’s anything you need to tell me during your stay here or if you need help, please don’t hesitate to call.” She pulled a business card from her purse and put it on the table between us. I glanced at it. “Any time!” she added.

Then she gave me a frugal smile and stood up, followed by Nereidi. At first, they turned around and walked toward the door separately, but after a few steps, the inspector reached out to embrace her assistant again. I waited a few seconds and moved after them across the bar and into the lobby. I went out on the street just in time to see their shining Ferrari picking up speed down the road. It zipped straight toward the burning house but turned into the intersection before reaching it, vanishing behind the corner.

I looked around, baffled. I hadn’t participated in such weird questioning my entire life. I literally didn’t know what to think about it. Yet, they obviously had it all weird here because it had been almost an hour since I first noticed the accident, and still, no one cared about it. I saw no fire trucks, police cars, or even a crowd of people on the street. Since I felt encouraged by Inspector Gzundis’ reluctance to arrest me and was also intrigued by this mona obsession, I decided to take a short walk and see what was happening there. After all, I was new on the island, and maybe it was a good idea to mingle with local people and get to know their habits. It might be helpful in the future.

I slowly started down the street, but in the meantime, the temperature had risen significantly. Tutuila was quickly turning into hell again! Unlike earlier that morning, the weather was not walking-friendly at all, and besides, the palm trees cast almost no shadows because it was noon. By the time I got to the place—about ten minutes later—I was already sorry about my decision. Despite that, I approached the fence and looked over it, curious.

The burning house was a typical urban cottage with a concrete base and a wooden structure above. I couldn’t see any flames, but dense clouds of smoke were coming out of the windows, and in the small front yard, a black man was sitting on the lawn. He looked disoriented, with his face covered in soot and his hands burned. I cautiously asked him if he was okay, but he looked at me so furiously that for a moment, I thought he misunderstood my concern and took it for a sexual claim on his mother! The few people who walked by didn’t pay any attention, and judging by their looks, I gathered it was pretty useless to ask them to call the emergency service.

I took my cell phone out and had just started wondering how I could help the wretch—because he was obviously in shock—when I noticed a big white limo slowly advancing toward us. It came from the direction of my hotel, and I figured the guys inside might help me. They were obviously big shots, and maybe they knew how to handle the situation. The next moment, I decisively stepped onto the lane and vigorously waved my hands. The limo slowed down, and a quarter of a minute later, it pulled up at the curb a few meters ahead of me.

I hurriedly walked toward the driver’s door, and since the vehicle was so long, it took me nearly ten seconds to pass the engine hood alone! When I reached there, two of the other doors on the same side suddenly flew open, and three bearded guys in black suits stormed out, anxious to help me. They ran straight to me, but to my surprise, they grabbed me under my armpits and started dragging me toward the limo. They treated me so harshly that I dropped my cell phone, and when I tried to show them the wretch on the lawn and tell them he was the one who needed help, they showed me their positron guns and insisted that I was the one they needed. Then, before I knew it, they pushed me into the limo.

I looked around, dazed, when I found myself sitting in one of the two backseats of the car. They were large enough to be double beds each, and I saw a man in a white suit examining me silently in the one opposite me. On my right, some eight-hundred-year-old yogi who seemed irrevocably lost in a state of nirvana sat cross-legged with his eyes shut and his skinny hands resting on his lap. He was entirely naked except for a pair of blue parachute-like shorts and a white turban with a peacock feather on the top of his head.

I slowly turned my eyes back to the man in the suit because I felt I could hardly start a conversation with the zombie by my side. The man in white had a completely different vibe. He was a tall Indian guy whose clothes, shoes, expensive watch on his left wrist, and emerald rings on both his middle fingers were probably worth half Tutuila. His hair was combed back and oiled, and he wore sunglasses. There was a cold, sterile smile on his face.

“Hello, Mr. Mellrow!” He said with a notable British accent. His voice was soft and melodic. “Welcome to Tutuila!”

“Do I know you?” I asked him, irritated because I didn’t like his style, particularly how he invited people to talk to him.

“I doubt it,” he replied, shaking his head. “My name is Chandrakant Sengupta. I’d like to have a word with you if you don’t mind.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have if you had a more conventional approach to inviting me,” I answered grumpily. “I hate it when people point guns at me!”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Indeed! I was just not quite sure if you’d agree to meet.”

“Well, you have me now, even without my consent. I guess you can tell me what’s so urgent at last!” I almost cried anxiously because the mummy by my side was making me extremely nervous. He was so scary that I had the feeling his body would burst open any minute, and snakes would come out of it like in a horror movie.

“Nothing’s urgent, in fact.” The guy smiled again. “I’d only want to know the reason for your visit here. That’s all.”

I looked at him, surprised. I had been on this island only for a day, but two people had already wanted to know what I was doing there. It made me feel like a Bollywood star or an honorable member of the local cricket club, at least!

“The reason for my visit?” I repeated, still annoyed. “And why is that? Can’t I be just a tourist?”

“No, you can’t be just a tourist! I think you know you don’t look like one.” The Indian noted with a bleak expression.

“Well, but I am!” I insisted.

The guy slowly leaned toward me, and I saw my reflection swimming across his sunglasses. Then he informed me, in a low and threatening tone, “I’m perfectly aware of who you are, Mr. Mellrow, and I’m also aware of everything you’ve been doing in Greenland! You see, I don’t care about your business there, but I need you to know that I’ll get the reason for your coming down here with or without your cooperation. The thing is that we will both like it so much better if you cooperate. Now, in order to cut this stupid conversation short, maybe I should tell you that a particular clan of the Chinese mafia wants you so badly that they have made a very attractive offer to me to transfer your body to your country. I prefer not to work with them because I don’t like them much, but that’s entirely up to you now.”

For a moment, I remained still because I was suddenly paralyzed with fear. I was afraid even to breathe. The guy’s mentioning the Chinese mafia and my “body” in the same sentence made me want to cry. When I arrived on this island, I thought I was on a different planet, far enough away to forget about the Asians, but I was clearly wrong. Clearly, whoever had tipped Miss Gzundis about my arrival had extended their helpful services to Mr. Sengupta, too. I wanted to think it was Sharon, but Bobby Bjornson was actually a more probable candidate. She had worked here in the past for an Indian company and surely knew many people around, especially Indians!

“You see, I just wanted to check up on someone,” I answered nervously because the man was obviously not joking, and he expected an answer. I was in quite a tricky situation since I didn’t know him or what he knew about Menelaus’s murder. I could easily misstep while lying to him.

“And who exactly would that be?” Sengupta asked curtly.

“I don’t think you would know the guy,” I replied vaguely, trying to avoid looking at the big shot. The sunglasses on his face were making me extremely nervous. “It’s not like he’s a resident or something.”

My new friend showed no reaction at first, but it was more than obvious I was getting on his nerves. Then he suddenly raised his right hand with his fingers folded, the middle one slightly above the others. All the while, he was watching me totally emotionless, and the ring was just a millimeter away from the glass window, on the other side of which his scary-looking thugs stood ready. The gesture immediately made me far more talkative.

“Well, okay! His name’s Ernesto Chavez. Have you heard of him?” I asked, seemingly nonchalantly, but it was just an act. Inside, I was a bag of nerves and sweating intensely despite the car’s air conditioning.

“What about him?” Sengupta ignored my question, absentminded, which I took as another threat until I noticed he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He had his eyes on the “mummy” now. Out of the corner of my vision, I saw the yogi nod his head “yes,” and I realized his boss was using him as a lie detector. That’s why the zombie was sitting next to me—so that Sengupta could see his signs. However, through what means the man in shorts did that, I couldn’t even start imagining.

“The guy seems to be cooking a deal with the Chinese for smuggling huge amounts of rhino horns into Greenland.” I continued after the pause, improvising hideously because I had to give the Indian something. With the prophet beside me, it was a risky move, but since the bullshit Bjornson fed me was the only thing that flashed across my mind, I did it anyway. “Some environmental people are very concerned about the animals and the extent of the deal, so they hired me to dig into it.”

“In Samoa, there are no rhinoceroses, Mr. Mellrow! You’re aware of that, right?” Sengupta slightly pulled his hand away from the window glass.

“Of course. I know that. However, there’s a trade hub on the island of Ofu, and I think you can guess who it belongs to. Besides, the place is close enough to Chinasia too! So, I gather that Chavez is using it as a shipping yard: he distributes ammonia and rhino horns using the same ships to reduce costs. By the way, the price of the latter has quadrupled lately. Did you know that?”

The cuckoo on my right discretely gave his boss another muted “yes.” I sighed with relief when I noticed his gesture. He still sat with his eyes shut and his legs crossed—so ridiculously unreal!

Sengupta remained silent for half a minute, pondering my words. His right thumb slowly turned the ring around his middle finger, which I considered a gesture of trust. Then he looked at me again.

“You know what’s weird, Mr. Mellrow?” he said. “I don’t actually want to believe you because it all sounds so absurd, but at the same time, this is so him! This is the style of this clown, Chavez!”

“Tell me about it!” I unleashed myself, encouraged by the sudden friendliness I picked up in his tone. “I, too, didn’t believe it at first, but then another person came to me with the same story, although the angle was slightly different. They claimed it was South African swallows that he smuggled.”

The psychic confirmed.

“What an extravagant idea it is! Indeed!” Sengupta briefly glanced at his helper. “And what are these environmental people expecting from you?”

“They want to fan a scandal and push him out of business. Or at least so they say!”

“I see. And how far did you go with your digging in the story?”

“Well, not too far, in fact. I just arrived, you know.” For the sake of the “mummy,” I quickly tried to convince myself that I knew nothing else, which was pretty much the truth.

Sengupta looked at me thoughtfully for almost a minute but didn’t utter another word. He just let me enjoy my stupid reflection in his sunglasses. I was sitting there feeling very nervous because I didn’t know his intentions—I couldn’t even see his eyes—and besides, the thugs outside seemed impatient already. I also had no idea if the man believed me because he was a shrewd bastard and might have been toying with me. Eventually, he opened his mouth again.

“Listen to me, Mr. Mellrow,” he began in an even, icy voice. “I wouldn’t hide from you that I’m not a fan of Chavez; you can probably see that for yourself. I think the guy is bad for the business here. I mean, his trade initiatives are rather quirky and even hilarious. They attract too much attention, and your arrival here proves that. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t start a war over it because the situation would become even worse, and it could do harm to my business.”

He sharply stopped to see if I was following him. I said nothing.

“Now, although I think it isn’t particularly bright of you to come poking your nose into the man’s deals,” the Indian went on afterward, “I wouldn’t stop you if you’re unreasonable or mindless enough to do so. I only care about one thing, and let me make it crystal clear to you, Mr. Mellrow, that I won’t tolerate it in any way if you decide to try it. And that thing is, if you started poking your bloody nose into my business! Now, do tell me, you absolutely understand that!”

He stopped again, looking at me grimly—or at least I thought he was looking at me like that because I could only see his sunglasses. I began sweating anew, and I had no idea if he really expected to hear an answer from me. His words seemed more like a declaration, but since I wasn’t sure, I asked him, “Why would I poke my nose in your business, Mr. Sengupta? Are you killing endangered species, too?”

It was actually an incredibly reckless thing to do. It was true madness! I intended it as a joke, but as it usually happens when I’m nervous, it came out as a massive blunder. The guy didn’t say anything at first, and we just stared at each other for almost a minute. His expression grew grimmer and grimmer, literally making me want to throw up.

“No, I’m only killing stupid people!” The Indian said at last, and his hand sharply rose again to knock on the window glass. The hair on my neck bristled. The door promptly opened, and one of the thugs violently grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me outside, pushing me roughly on the ground. Three pairs of feet quickly danced around me, making me expect brutal kicks in my chest and kidneys, and then, all of a sudden, they vanished before doing anything to me.

“Just watch your step!” I heard Sengupta’s harsh voice above my head as the shaded glass rolled up, hiding him from my eyes. The limo slowly set off down the street toward the next intersection. I didn’t dare get up or even move. I just remained on the pavement, looking after the vehicle, bewildered.

Soon, the car disappeared behind the corner, and I timidly stood up, glancing at the burning house beside me. It was still burning, but the wretch on the lawn was gone. My cell phone was nowhere in sight either. I spent a few minutes walking up and down the sidewalk, trying to find it, but I couldn’t. Eventually, I turned around several times to find someone to help me, but no one paid the slightest attention to me. Nobody even cared to ask me if I was okay. On this island, they all were obviously too tolerant of violence and assaults.

In such an oppressive mood, after a while, I decided to give up my search and stop “mingling” with people. I returned to my hotel instead. It was actually a very productive first day of my stay, and I had already met both the police and the gangsters here, so I was well ahead of my schedule.

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