The Holy Child Centre for Primary and Secondary Education was a series of double-storeyed, red-roofed buildings connected to each other by marble corridors on each level. The entire structure was surrounded by a well-maintained playground in the front – complete with a basketball and a tennis court – and a meticulously tended garden at the back. From a distance, it looked like an oasis of incongruent peace and natural beauty in the desert of noise and pollution that was Ragah. It looked more like an idyllic country estate than a commercial establishment in the heart of the overcrowded capital. And it was an idyll dearly bought, reserved solely for the children of the city’s rich and powerful who could afford to pay for the illusion of fashionable scholastic seclusion in one of the most expensive neighbourhoods in town.
As the car screeched to a halt outside the giant red-and-white gates of the now-empty school, a liveried security guard with a walkie-talkie in one hand and a metal-capped wooden baton in the other ran up to the vehicle, looking disgruntled. Tapping his knuckles against the driver-side window, the young man jumped back with a surprised yelp as Ruban threw the door open and leapt out of the car.
“Sir, you cannot park here. You have to go round the back. This is–”
Ruban flashed his badge, cutting off the man’s agitated protests. The guard’s eyes widened as his mind connected the badge with the face that had been on the news on and off for the last few weeks and he gulped nervously, recognition dawning on his face. “Ah, sir, I’m so sorry I didn’t…I mean, how can I help you?”
Wordlessly, Ruban held out his phone to the guard, a picture of Hiya on the screen. “This girl is a student at your school. Her name is Hiya Kinoh. I need to know where she is now. Who picked her up from school today?”
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The youth frowned, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Ah, Miss Hiya. Of course. I’m afraid you just missed her, though. She left a few minutes ago.”
“With whom? Where did they take her, do you know?” Ashwin asked urgently, stepping out of the car.
“Uh, a lady in a silver convertible came to pick her up. Volkswagen, I think. It wasn’t Miss Hiya’s usual ride of course, so we stopped her at the gate. But she had her pickup ID and she said that Miss Hiya’s usual driver was on leave so she was here to pick her up instead. So we let her through. She just left with Miss Hiya a few minutes ago. Why, is there a problem?” He sounded genuinely worried.
“Which way did they go?” demanded Ruban, ignoring the question. There was no time for small-talk now.
The young man looked nervously from Ruban to Ashwin, then back again. “I - uh - I think they were headed towards Select City Walk in Kanla Park. Lots of students go to the mall after school so I didn’t think anything of it. Look, do you want me to call the police? Why are Hunters here anyway? I don’t know what’s going on but if something’s happened to Miss Hiya–”
“That won’t be necessary. We’ll take care of it,” Ashwin said, his voice gentler, more reassuring. The rational part of Ruban’s mind – what little of it was still functional – supposed it was a good idea. The young man looked spooked enough as it was; the last thing they needed was police flooding the streets before they could find Hiya. It would only make matters more volatile. “Look, we’ll go now,” the Zainian continued, his voice steady, soothing. “You don’t need to worry about it. Just…can you tell us what this - ah - lady looked like?”
The guard looked confused, almost pained. “Um…I couldn’t see much of her, sir. She was in the car the whole time but ah…she rolled down the window when I asked for the ID and…”
“Yes?” Ashwin prompted encouragingly.
“Well, she had long hair, sir. Long, straight hair and she was wearing shades so I couldn’t see much of her face but I think as she was pretty,” he said, almost guiltily. “Pretty, and-and very fair.”
Ashwin looked over at Ruban, and the Hunter knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Goddamn Aeriels!” Ruban growled as he jumped back into the car, followed by Ashwin.