It has been said that the smoke emanating from the crematorium is carried away by the wind, but Pistachio's chest was suffocating him, and he didn't feel like he could breathe anyway. Apart from that, his mind was preoccupied most of the time with the phone picture of the minister's face. It looked like he was at peace. Way too peaceful for a guy who had just been executed in a scandal over corruption.
A Sterile Crime Scene
They have cordoned off the Ministry office with the yellow police tape, leaving only the corridors accessible to the public. The place no longer exudes an air of bustling bureaucracy but is more like a maze made out of yellow tape. Pistachio had to go through the metal detector that suddenly seemed so ineffective. Why even have security technology when a person can die because of a rotten heart?
That minister Abimanyu was found dead in his office, sitting in a chair that was made of dark leather. There were no traces of fighting. On the desk made of smooth teak wood, a briefcase was thrown open, and the sight of the stiff ones, which were the paper currency hidden inside, was revealed and clearly visible.
"Malik mumbled, "The time of death was when the bribery notification hit his secret account." He appeared more stable, yet his eyes always held shyness. "Just like the people locked up in Block C, Detective. Sudden heart failure. No poison, no signs of violence."
Justice Beyond the Law
Moving closer to the corpse, Pistachio saw that the minister's hand hadn't moved away from the money yet. "The Executioner tells only one story, Malik. He comes in as judge, jury, and executioner. First, he gives them exactly what they crave, then he kills them and takes their life as payment."
"But it's crazy," Malik said softly, cutting off the argument, in case the forensic technicians might be able to overhear. "If every sinner dies right away, the public will consider this person a god. Look at social media. People are already calling him the 'Cleansing Angel'. Basically, they love this!"
Looking out the towering window towards the city, Pistachio was deep in thought. "The law is there because people are imperfect, Malik. Without us deciding that errors should be dealt with, we would simply be a flock of sheep ready to be slaughtered for doing things that we haven't even had time to learn from yet. So, if by replacement of courts happened through instant verdicts, we would no longer be a civilization but just a herd of cattle waiting to be slaughtered for mistakes we haven't even had the chance to rectify."
The Hidden Message
Before stepping out of the room, Pistachio was drawn by the fact that, somehow, one of the minister's computer monitors was still on. The display did not show government files or the like, but rather a countdown timer that had stopped at 00:00:00.
A single phrase below the zeros made Pistachio feel like he was going to have startling diseases:
"Human law has loopholes, but conscience has a memory. Who is next, Detective?"
Another vibration of the mobile phone brought Pistachio back to reality. This time, it was not a news alert but a message from an unknown private number. There was a long string of coordinates on the screen a place indicating the Supreme Court.
"He's not finished," whispered Pistachio as he pointed towards the door. "He's going far beyond the corrupt officials. He's going after the core of our legal system."