Abhijat limped the few yards to his car, slid into the vehicle, and locked himself in. His injured foot throbbed from all the walking. “Fuck,” he told his steering wheel, and fished his phone out of his pocket.
Taking a sheet of paper from one of the manila folders, he dialed the first number on it, leaned back into his seat, and waited.
It was noon by the time he was done with the phone calls. Stuffing the folders into his backpack, he turned the key in the ignition and drove out of the parking lot.
The Vardhan brothers, Fayed and Faheen, were still in the city, doing contract work for various electrical firms. Two of the other independent contractors Mr. Dixit had hired for the rewiring work at Parliament House were working together at a shopping mall downtown. Abhijat made a mental note to pay a visit to all four of them early the next day.
That just left Sajal, the fifth and final electrician outside of the company’s payroll who, according to Dixit, had had access to the PM’s office over six months ago. The man whom the green-haired boy had suspected of siphoning funds from the company’s coffers, because of the expensive jewelry he wore to work.
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And yet, according to the manager, nothing was amiss and all their finances were in order when Sajal’s contract finally came to an end.
Furthermore, the phone number Sajal had given Mr. Dixit had been deactivated.
After some digging, Abhijat managed to track down the contact details of his landlord. When he called the number, an annoyed old man informed him that Sajal Mairik had only rented the flat for two months, almost half a year ago. Apparently, it’d been months since he had left the city.
That was all the old man knew, or was willing to tell. He swore he didn’t know where his former tenant had gone, or even if he was still alive. When Abhijat asked if he had the phone numbers of any of Sajal’s friends or family members, the old man grunted and disconnected the line.
He’d send someone to search the house Sajal had rented during his stay in Qayit, Abhijat decided. More to tick the task off his to-do list than because he expected to find anything useful there. Still, it had to be done. So far, this man was the closest thing he had to a lead.
After a few more minutes of driving, the silhouette of the NIA headquarters finally came into view. It was time to touch base with Mr. Vyas and his team.