METROPOLITAN POLICE DEPARTMENT,
The body was taken to MPD for Post-Mortem reports. Camshron wanted PM reports to be published just within CIA and MPD.
He did not want to risk of all.
Camshron now had identification papers of Haq's neighbors and if it was going not to make any point, then there was a final option- Investigation in the embassy.
The dreadful option.
Embassy of Afghanistan had never been in touch of investigation-not high profile one. Embassy meant politics enough to make everyone spin around circle's circumference.
Camshron was close to biting his nails.
He knew pure political setups which had potential to mask culprits forever with unlimited power.
This could also be a setup.
Camshron was confident the killer had planned everything and few points would be available for investigation. He wasn’t even caught by CCTV cameras. But one thing was eating his mind- nobody heard the gunshots. He had heard many bullets being fired in a row. Well, it included backfire by Haq because most guns have a maximum limit of 6 bullets in them but no gun was found from Haq's corpse. The gun was too missing.
The killer had stolen it and had removed all the proofs. Camshron had heard the firing, but just a hole of bullet was found in there. How did killer hide the bullets spots? Camshron thought- Killer doesn't carry cement sacks. They don’t either carry paint! Or this time he had?
Camshron was at least happy about a decision.
People were thinking that corpse was in Langley, but it was yet in DC. This was a big way to deceive media's knowledge. The body was registered in MPD by fake name- Will Stewart.
Handful of individuals in MPD knew the corpse in there belonged to Haq.
Camshron was on a long coach, just in front of the forensic laboratory door. He looked at the end of passage and saw no one in there.
Camshron thought Mr. Meredink would come there in a few minutes so he wasn't worried about the waiting. On the other hand, he was thinking a lot about the murder.
He heard operation tools being put in the beaker.
The foul smell of body was not pleasing him.
With echoing tramps, Mr. Meredink came and sat on the coach.
"Sorry, you had to wait." said Mr. Meredink, looking at the door.
Camshron did not reply.
He got up and said, "Firing had happened there, isn’t it?"
"Yes."
"But only one spot is found and three is in the body. Then where did other bullets go? They can't just vanish in air."
"Camshron, bullets are worthless. Wherever they go, it is out of the issue. Our issue is the person who killed him." said Mr. Meredink a bit louder than he said as usual.
"Then there is only one place to start. We must find Haq's history works. A to Z."
"Then…" said Mr. Meredink, but he knew what Camshron was going to say.
"E for Embassy. It's Embassy of Afghanistan. He worked there. People say he was sent to many countries due to his work. We can get his database."
The clock on the passage wall struck four. He hadn’t slept the whole night. Neither Meredink did. All were concerned about the case while the long wait wasn’t looking to end anytime soon.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
They wanted to get reports soon.
Without any sign the door opened and from there half a dozen of men in light green gown and white mouth covering mask came out. It was the time for result. The man holding a clipboard in his hand said, "Mr. Meredink, he has died about twenty hours ago. Body stinks."
Camshron interrupted, "Have you taken the bullets out then?"
"Only two of them. The one in his forehead was deep inside his brain. But we managed to retrieve two bullets." said the man and then looked at his assistant.
In a few seconds the man came with bullets sealed in plastic bag, "Here they are."
"Anymore? Anything else in his body?"
"No chemicals fed, sir. He wasn’t fed anything poisonous. There is no food in his stomach at all."
"No food!" exclaimed Camshron.
He had eaten nothing. It meant that earlier Haq was in a tension or was busy a lot. Busy men can eat! There must have been some kind of anxiety.
Anxiousness is also a known reason to cause loss in appetite.
"Anything on skin?"
"Nope, there's nothing. Everything is fine in his corpse. I bet a million dollar for Haq died by a gunshot."
Now Camshron got unsatisfied. Camshron looked at Mr. Meredink and said, "Then we should leave to embassy. Staying here isn't a solution."
Mr. Meredink spoke nothing and departed from the place. He made a close look at the bullets. He touched his gun in his left waist, and then he also went out without uttering a word.
When it was the proper time, then Camshron got in the police van of MPD.
He could see trouble chasing him, but he was unable to chase the trouble.
It was for the first time Camshron hadn’t even got a single clue of the day. He was aware embassy wasn’t so far from MPD headquarters.
He could reach there fast in absence of traffic jam.
Camshron had a bunch of people- six with him in the van. They hadn’t even contacted embassy because they wanted to get in there out of the blue.
If the killer was from embassy, then he could get prepared for what was yet to come for him.
Now all Camshron needed was to find out about Haq's past activities.
Van started, and it ran in speed of mid 60s. He was nonstop thinking about any logic. There was not any clue. Not any- in the murder spot. Haq's activities were significant for him because he could find out why he was murdered. Was the cause envy? Camshron was upset.
After a short fast ride in MPD van, they stopped in front of the embassy. Camshron spotted a board where 'Embassy of Afghanistan' was written.
Camshron looked at the parking area and made the van park in there.
There was a big gate between them and embassy building.
Two guards staying near the gate read MPD on the van's metallic wall.
They spoke nothing.
They just stared at Camshron and other cops entering inside the gate and couldn’t see them getting in the building.
When he went inside, he saw a big hall with many benches. All benches had people on them. His thought- Embassy is always busy. He looked at the main desk where clerks like people were having talking with people in line. Phones were ringing every second, and people's breath was making the room a bit of hot.
The place was busy. Nathan looked at his crew and told them to stay somewhere in the hall where no one would notice they were from MPD.
He overtook the line.
A woman was the receptionist for the line. She spoke, "Sir, you must get in the line for consul advises."
"I am-"
She interrupted, "Who? Whoever you are sir, but you need to get in the line."