A New Faith: Part 3: Chapter 33
Alia stepped out of the building and was whiplashed from euphoria to tension. Wailing sirens and people rushing toward something enveloped all her senses. Her phone started buzzing the instant she switched it on. She quickly scrolled through the messages of her colleagues and dashed toward the location that Sonia had sent.
The concert had totally transformed her. Her mind was in an absolutely sharp state and her body vibrated with energy as she quickly covered the ground. She slowed down as she got near to her destination, the religious district. She could barely see from that far back in the crowd as to what was happening. She spied a ledge on one side of the crowd. Climbing on top of it, she ran as fast as she could without toppling into the surging crowd. She jumped over a hedge and then she was within the cordon created by her colleagues.
She flashed her badge and was guided to the command center. Sonia was sitting inside with a grim expression. She had a megaphone in one hand. She turned to Alia and asked her harshly where she had been all this time.
Alia said, “I was at Maria’s concert, boss. I had told you that I would not be reachable inside that building. Sorry. What’s going on?”
“This is it!! This is the beginning of the end of Sequoia. That crowd is lusting for blood. There is going to be violence and we are too few to do anything about it. We have been trying to keep them from each other’s throats so far by having a contingent of our constables form a human barrier separating the Muslims from the rest. But I don’t think that barrier is going to last long. It is only a matter of minutes before things start spiraling out of control.”
Alia promptly said, “boss - I think I can talk these folks down from doing that. Please… may I go?”
“Are you mad? You want to go get yourself killed?”
“Yes - that is a possibility. But I am hoping it wouldn’t come to that. In many ways, I am the one they are mad at. I am responsible for the investigation of the two murders. I haven’t found the murderers. Maybe I can take the heat and allow them to vent their anger at me instead of each other. I can be the lightning rod.”
Sonia was quite surprised by this. She had known that Alia was one of those utterly responsible people on whom one could rely on in the worst of all circumstances. But seeing Alia offer herself up as a human sacrifice was above and beyond anything Sonia had ever seen. She nodded but her eyes were unable to hide the extreme reluctance with which she was giving Alia her permission.
“All the best - dear!”
She wistfully added, “I hope I see you again. I am not sure what to expect at this point. We tried gamely to make this opportunity count for something. But the vice-like grip that our past has on us will never let us be free. It seems to have all been for nothing.”
Alia nodded and leapt out of the command center. She cut a path through the gaggle of uniforms right up to where her colleagues had formed a barrier between the two baying crowds. The line of confrontation was right in the middle of the square around which four buildings stood - a mosque, a church, a Hindu temple, and a Buddhist pagoda.
It was clear that the Muslim crowd was the largest and the most vociferous relative to the mixed crowd consisting predominantly of Hindus and Christians. The religious slogans being shouted had melded into a numbing drone. Flags and large posters were being waved around. Some were also brandishing makeshift weapons such as kitchen knives, gardening tools, and construction equipment. Curiously, the ones brandishing the weapons appeared to also be the most diminutive of the lot. Their movements were half-hearted at best and it was quite apparent that they were unsure of whether this was a good idea.
Alia grabbed hold of a megaphone from the command center. She brought up the microphone as she stepped into a clearing made by the uniforms. She tapped the megaphone as loudly as possible in order to attract the crowd’s attention. As the uniforms formed a circle around her and pushed the crowd back, some members of the crowd seemed cowed down by her imposing presence.
“My name is Alia Khan! I am a Muslim - born and raised. I am also the detective leading the investigation into the murders of Qasim and Nadeem. I request all of you to desist from any action that you may regret. I am here to talk with you - to your heart’s content - about the status of the investigation.”
She paused for a full ten seconds. She had chosen to face the Muslim side of the confrontation and her back was toward the rest of the folks. In her mind, she was praying that some violent Hindu or Christian wouldn’t attack her from behind.
There was something about Alia in that moment. She was tall and that might have had something to do with it. She towered over most people. She was wearing a long trench-coat that accentuated her height and broad shoulders. There was nothing svelte about her. Anyone could see that she could take care of herself very well and some more. The trench-coat was dark with tiny white astronomical shapes on it. It was subtle, but that combination of green and white crescent moon and the stars almost felt religious at first glance. Maria, who had designed it, had no religious intentions, though. She had simply been experimenting with astronomical shapes for the past several months. For Alia, it was a comfortable coat just right for the fall weather - not too hot and not too cold. But it was, probably, none of these things.
It was, probably, her expression and stance that was making such a powerful impression on the crowd. It was an open stance, almost welcoming an embrace. No bunched up shoulders. The expression was frank. No furrowed brows. No arched eyebrows. She was transparently communicating her interest in engaging with anyone who wished to talk with her.
The crowd calmed down. Hunched shoulders relaxed and raised arms were lowered down to hang loosely by the side. Curiosity seemed to replace the equal parts of anger and fear that had been present on the faces just a few moments ago. A couple of people tried to say something but ended up talking over each other. After a few attempts of “you first” and a chuckle, one of them stepped to the front of the crowd and asked Alia, “after the deaths of three Muslim men in the last few days, how can you say that this is not a pogrom against us?”
“Sure let’s talk about that right here right now. But, peacefully! Respectfully.” Alia was so confident in making this statement that she didn’t even glance in the direction of Sonia before making it. Sonia had stepped out of the command center and was closely watching both Alia and the people standing right in front of her. She was worried about Alia. At the same time, she was also marveling at this young woman’s indisputable courage under fire.
This was a side of Alia that had always been hinted at but had never come forth until this moment. Alia was known to be this phlegmatic investigator. She was a quick study and a creative problem-solver. She had an air around her that encouraged others to do better than they otherwise would. She was secure in her skin and didn’t really exhibit any sign of being competitive or worse paranoid about whether someone would undermine her. She was a natural introvert who tended to follow her own counsel most of the time. But she was not anti-social. When needed, she would step up and engage with folks. She was never the center of attention and was never really even noticed by anyone until she chose to draw attention to her. And when she did, as she was doing now, it was hard to ignore her or write her off. The innate strength and intelligence shone through her every action and word.
“Qasim’s murder appears to have been a crime of passion. It took place in the wilderness camp where he was conducting his research. We have not found any signs of premeditation. In contrast, Nadeem’s murder was definitely planned and took place in the middle of the city. The death of Irfan that took place a few hours ago was an accident. I witnessed it first-hand. There was no murderous intent behind his death.
To the best of our understanding, all three deaths were totally unconnected. After weeks of investigation, we have not found anything to link Qasim and Nadeem. They came from different countries to Sequoia. As far as we can tell, they had never even met. They both had few social interactions. And those small social circles that they had, did not overlap. We have not been able to find any motive for their deaths as they hardly spent any meaningful time with anyone in Sequoia. Not a single person who had interacted with them has reported any sign of a confrontation that they had ever been in.
Neither of them were particularly devout Muslims. Nadeem had a prayer mat at his home but Qasim didn’t have any sign of being a practicing Muslim at his home, office, or the camp where he was found. There have been no traces of them being particularly active on social media, although, that is something we are continuing to explore. Bottom-line, we don’t have any reason to think that these crimes were religiously motivated. In my opinion, it is a coincidence that these three unfortunate men happened to be all Muslim.
I do want to highlight the fact that although we have not yet found the killers, the death of my colleague Santosh was most definitely motivated by religion. You may have seen the video of his gruesome execution. Santosh had absolutely no connection with either Qasim or Nadeem except that he was part of our investigation team. To the best of my knowledge Santosh was an atheist. Apart from his name and the fact that he came from India, there was no indication that he adhered to any religion at all. And that is why I implore all of you to think carefully and calmly before doing something violent.
Does that answer your question?”
Several people started whispering to each other. All of the things that Alia had stated had been in the public domain. All she had done was state them succinctly and unequivocally. The last part that she had said about Santosh was delivered in a stern tone unlike the reasonable tone in which she had described the investigation. A few people had been nodding their heads while she had talked. They had known all these things and the reminder served to quell their paranoia. Quite a few people had started edging to the back of the crowd. The tension in the air seemed to be melting away. There were no rejoinders and no slogans.
Suddenly, the crowd at the corner closest to the church started rippling away as if it had been perturbed by the splash of something big. People were scrambling to get out of the way of whatever was coming through. There were some shouts and the atmosphere instantly turned ominous as yellow and orange flames came into sight. Alia dropped the megaphone and along with all the uniforms surrounding her, started moving through the crowd toward the flames. There was genuine fear reflected in the eyes of the people closest to the flames. The volume of the slogan, “Alla-hu-Akbar,” was growing as the group carrying whatever flammable thing they were carrying surged toward the church and the temple.
Alia pushed through and came face to face with a group of 8-10 people that were wearing black turbans and carrying flaming tins of paint thinners. The pungent smell of the thinners was apparent through the ugly black clouds of soot that frequently burst out of those tins. Each tin had a long metallic string attached to the top.
The person in the front - a short and stocky guy - was really hopped up on adrenaline. He was shouting at the top of his voice. He had put down the two tins he was carrying and was going around wildly waving his arms to exhort the crowd to attack the church and the temple. In the blink of an eye, he picked up one of the flaming tins and swung it around himself like a javelin and hurled it on the door of the church. The thinner splashed around as he had swung it through the air, but luckily everyone had backed away enough to not have been hit by the flaming liquid. The church door caught fire instantly and flames started clinging to the walls around it as that guy hurled the next burning tin. Then he paused and ran around shouting something. It sounded like a high-pitched shriek and then his fellow arsonists started heaving the flaming cans on the temple and the church.
The bases of both the buildings were engulfed in flames. As expected, though, the buildings themselves did not catch fire. They were made of fire retardant materials and the sprinklers inside the buildings had switched on at the first lick of the flames. What was burning away was the liquid thinner that had coated the buildings. There was unlikely to be any structural damage to either building. The only thing they would require was some thorough cleaning and a paint job. As this reality became apparent, the stocky guy lost it completely.
His turban unravelled and they saw that it was Shahid. Alia desperately tried to catch his attention. The crowd at her backside - the Christians and Hindus - were now thoroughly pissed off that this charade had been allowed to go on for so long. A few rocks were hurled at Shahid’s group and things were starting to get out of hand as a few scuffles broke out. Alia was trying to decide whether to extricate herself and her team from the middle of the ensuing melee or continue the attempt to keep the two crowds apart.
One of the rocks hit Shahid glancingly. He glared at the direction from where it came from and rushed to the last couple of burning tins. He picked them up in each hand and started whirling around getting ready to toss them in the crowd instead of the buildings. He tripped and instead of the tins flying through the air, his arms collapsed around him and he was covered in the burning liquid. Like a delirious dervish, he was ablaze and twisting every which way. The crowd went quiet as they watched, in horror, this human torch lurch every which way screaming like a banshee. The gross smell of burning flesh hit the people closest to Shahid like a slap and they all turned away in unison covering up their face.
As if hypnotized, the entire crowd saw Shahid die in an extremely painful manner. Shahid’s partners-in-crime were scared. They didn’t know what to do. They just stood there, absolutely petrified. The screaming had died down to a gurgle and now all that could be heard was the crackling of the flames as Shahid’s flesh burnt. Mercifully, he had died quickly. Alia gestured at a couple of her colleagues and stepped forward. She threw her trench-coat on the burning body and tried to snuff out the flames. It was ineffective, and all that happened was her coat caught fire.