“Badal is dead,” Rito said, as the rest of the family filed into the drawing room.
She stared wide-eyed at the TV screen, where a news anchor was talking excitedly into the camera, trying to get in contact with her correspondent in Weritlan. Rito’s ears were ringing, her heart thumping painfully against her ribs. This wasn’t right. How could this have happened?
“What?” Rajat exclaimed, striding into the room. “That’s impossible. I’d have known if he was unwell. What happened to him?”
“He wasn’t unwell,” Rito said, her mouth dry. “He was shot. Shot dead less than half a kilometer from his house.”
“Who did it? Do they know yet?” Abhijat asked, sitting down on the sofa beside Rito.
She swallowed the bile that had risen to her throat. “Jehan Fasih, it seems.”
A few minutes passed, during which all four of them gathered around the TV, Abhi and Rito curled up on one sofa while their parents occupied the other.
As the story unfolded, they learned that Badal had been shot dead on his way back from the market earlier that evening. Two bullets lodged in his skull, he had died on the spot; and his body had later been discovered in an alley by one of the gardeners who’d gone out looking for him, when he failed to return home on time or answer his phone.
Two suspects had been arrested by the local police in connection with the murder. Rumor had it, one of them had confessed to the crime, and during the interrogation had told the police that Jehan Fasih had hired him for the job.
None of this had yet been confirmed by the police, yet analysts and experts on the news program were already speculating if Fasih had ordered the killing to keep Badal from revealing secrets that could’ve jeopardized his premiership.
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Apparently, reports had surfaced recently indicating that Badal had been gathering evidence that could’ve proved Rajat Shain’s innocence, and Fasih’s role in wrongfully defaming the former PM for personal gain.
How so much information had come to light in the less than twelve hours since Rito had last watched the news, she didn’t know. It didn’t matter, though. It made for good television, and the news channels were having a field day, with new and exciting bits of information coming in by the minute.
“I can’t believe this,” Lyani said, sitting back in the sofa and placing her head on her husband’s shoulder. “And to think Qia is there right now. Do you think she spoke to Badal before...”
Her voice was drowned out by that of the news anchor, wondering who would represent Naijan at the New Year’s gala in Maralana, if Fasih was arrested for murder.
Rajat scoffed. “This is bullshit. A smear campaign if ever I saw one. They couldn’t even wait for the police to make a statement, bloody hyenas. Not that I’d trust the police in Weritlan with an investigation like this one.”
“Why’s it so hard to believe that after everything he’s done, Fasih might just go the extra mile and shoot someone in the head?” Abhijat muttered. “Or at least, arrange for them to be shot in the head. Sounds just like him, if you ask me.”
Rajat frowned disapprovingly at his son. “Of course it’s not hard to believe that Jehan might off Badal. What is hard to believe is that he’d be so sloppy about it.
“This is what happens when you let yourself be blinded by hatred and resentment; you fail to see the obvious. Jehan Fasih is a lot of things, but incompetent isn’t one of them. This wasn’t his doing.”
Abhijat looked at Rajat as if he didn’t recognize his own father. Then, he grinned. “Okay, we’ll go with that for now.”
The scene on the TV shifted to an old footage of Badal announcing that he would be stepping down as deputy prime minister, looking for all the world like he’d swallowed a bottle of vinegar. Fasih stood behind him, smiling guilelessly for the cameras.
“If he submits to an investigation, he can’t go to Maralana. And if he doesn’t, he risks looking callous, even downright suspicious. If he really is innocent – and that’s a big ‘if’ – it’d seem somebody's out to give Fasih a taste of his own medicine.” Abhijat rose to his feet, sliding his hands into his pockets and baring his teeth in a smile that'd make a shark uncomfortable. “Interesting times are ahead.”