Mystery: Family Ties: Mystery and Suspense (23 page)

Jimmy was still too young to understand how difficult life could be and how cruel it was to those who chose to pursue their dreams at all costs. She laughed at him as he sped off into the city on his red bicycle. The boy had brought her a lot of joy and Rebeca was going to be sorry to see him go his own way some day.

Jimmy Nolan was almost six feet tall and liked dressing sporty and in comfortable clothes. After finishing college, he had dedicated all his time and strength to pursuing his dream of becoming a famous photographer. He had an analytic and witty mind that helped him survive in New York. He was still seeing the world through the camera’s lens and the only thing he wanted was to create something beautiful with his own hands.

Jimmy’s philosophy was that everything could be achieved by those who knew what they wanted. And he knew what he wanted, there was no doubt about it. He loved the fashion world, he loved the way clothes and personalities merged and came out as something unique and beautiful. His a bit hasty and foul-mouthed attitude had been a set back for him in the past, but now Jimmy was ready to overcome every obstacle and achieve his dreams.

With that in mind, he rode through the crowded streets of New York in search of the next big hit. The young man was able to see the beauty of the world around him even in the dirty sideways and falling down buildings. A few of his photos were focused on the facial expression of the people he met during his wandering around the town, others were glimpses of what he really wanted – fashion. Jimmy never lost an opportunity to capture a cute combination of clothing or a fashion experiment.

For example, the photos he had developed last night were all pieces of a big puzzle. He had spent the whole of yesterday photographing people in the park. There were women, dressed in comfortable everyday clothes and there were others, wearing designer suits and fashionable pieces. Jimmy had captured them all – the combination in his mind was the perfect one. He liked both styles and wanted to combine them in a unique ensemble.

Chapter 3

Detective Clyde Harris was just wrapping up his last case. It had been a difficult one and unfortunately the man had died, leaving his wife all alone in the world. Detective Harris was thirty-five years old and about five eleven feet tall. Since he had become an NYPD Detective, Harris had been dressing in a dark suit and adopted the professional look of the police officer. Being an African-American had made it difficult for him to pursue a detective’s career, but he had done it and that made him proud.

He had an analytic, tactical and even candid mind, open to new ideas and eager to understand other people’s characters. As a detective, that particular skill was helping him greatly in finding out the truth about the cases he was investigating. Lately, however, nothing seemed to be enough for the young detective, who was looking for a greater sense of purpose in his life. His greatest fear, on the other hand, was the fear of failing and it was giving him the push he needed to go on no matter what.

In his personal life, detective Clyde Harris was a lady’s man, who always took the opportunity to find a date and have a good time with a beautiful woman. Women loved his sense of humor and Clyde never failed to live up to their expectations. Other men saw him as a cold-hearted detective, who was working too much and climbing too quickly on the stairs of success. That, however, never disturbed him, as detective Harris wanted to always be ahead of everyone else.

Today, was one of those days for the young detective, which brought both satisfaction and pain to his heart. He had caught a vicious killer and put him behind bars, but at the same time, the life of a good man had been wasted and that hurt him too much. During his ride in his unmarked police car, detective Harris watched the life going on around him and often swore under his breath, remembering all the bad things that were happening even right then.

The Brooklyn Bridge was hanging like a malicious reminder of everything he wanted to forget and Clyde had to physically shake the feeling off, before climbing out of the car and heading towards the house of Mrs. Warren. He knocked softly on the door and waited for it to be open, by a middle aged African-American woman, who by the looks of it, had been crying.

“Mrs. Warren,” he greeted her respectfully. “May I come in?”

“Yes, detective, please, come in…”

Harris walked behind her into the living room and was glad to see that the children weren’t in the house. Their presence would have made his work even harder and right now he needed some air himself.

“I think, you know why I am here, madam,” he said, after refusing a cup of tea. “Our investigation of your husband’s death had been successful and the man responsible for it will be sent to prison for a very long time.”

“I heard, thank you,” the woman said through new tears. “Thank you for coming and talking to me in person.”

“I know what you must be feeling now and I wanted to make sure that you are okay,” Harris smiled at her reassuringly. “The judge gave him the maximum penalty and that man is not getting out of jail any time soon. I am only sorry that I wasn’t able to do more and save your husband’s life.”

“You don’t have to be,” Mrs. Warren said convincingly. “My husband was aware of the danger and he still decided to go. You did more than your best to help him. I know that.”

“That is my job…”

“There are many policemen out there, detective Harris, but very few of them do what you did for my husband and my family. I admire your dedication to the neighborhood and all the work you do for us.”

“You don’t have to thank me for doing my job,” the detective tried to rebuff her attempt to praise him, but Mrs. Warren wasn’t listening. She continued to underline the importance of his work and the goodness she was seeing in him. Harris was a modest man, who had big ambitions, but wasn’t prepared to listen to such praise.

“It’s all in a day’s work, Mrs. Warren,” he said politely and walked out of the house.

He wished he could have done more and really deserved that praise, but Mr. Warren had been killed and now his widow and two children were going to go through life without his protection and love. The young detective looked one last time at the house and climbed into his car. Somewhere out there a new case was being prepared for him
and that knowledge usually filled him with excitement. After all, he had become a policeman because of the power the position gave him to help people in a way few other professions could.

Chapter 4

At JFK airport, a private jet touched down about noon the same day. A large group of reporters and officials from the United Nations were standing by, waiting patiently for the doors to open and the people to come out. When the doors of the plane opened, Hassan Radha and his delegation from Kashmir made their way to a limousine. Before Hassan could answer any questions from the reporters, he and his daughter ducked into the awaiting limo. The reporters ran towards them, but the policemen stopped them in time, so that the delegation was able to depart quickly without too much noise.

Hassan Radha had already announced that he would be giving a conference later that same day, so that he and his people could have some time for rest. He was in town for an important peace conference between India and Pakistan. His only distraction was going to be his daughter Katrina, who he brought along for the trip. She had wanted to see New York for the first time and visit all of its fashion hot spots.

“So far, so good,” Mr. Radha said to his daughter, once they were sitting inside the limousine. “I will be very busy during the next few days, but you can enjoy yourself, without doing anything hasty, however.”

“Yes, yes, father,” the young woman agreed, looking hungrily at everything that was passing outside the windows.

Hassan Radha was a fifty-six years old diplomat, born in Kashmir, but child of the world. His life had started in a wealthy and luxurious Kashmiri palace, but Hassan Radha had been never happy with only being comfortable. The man wanted to give to his country the possibility to grow and become a better place for its people. So, Hassan Radha had become a peace promoter, outspoken, candid and honest, he had done a lot of good for his country and people.

His current mission was to promote the peace between Pakistan and India, a goal that wasn’t easy to achieve. He had prepared for the meetings for months, if not a year and was ready to do whatever was necessary to promote that much needed peace between the two nations. People saw him as a dignified man, proud of his achievements and always keeping his word. His wealth was another fact that helped him with dealing with people and if it wasn’t for his daughter, few people were able to stand up to him.

Hassan Radha was a diplomatic ambassador from the small nation of Kashmir. His country was the centerpiece for a century's old conflict between India and Pakistan. The Kashmir diplomat came to New York to broker an important peace agreement at the United Nations. But, since his daughter wanted to get involved with fashion and modeling, he brought her along for the journey.

The beautiful Katrina Radha was only nineteen years old and very curious about the world around her. At five foot six, she was graced with a slender body and very beautiful complexion. The young girl was a student back in Kashmir, but she also explored the possibilities of making a career in modeling and fashion design. The girl was witty and kind hearted and although she wasn’t in love with science or any other similar things, she was going to make a good impression during her life.

After growing up in a privileged Kashmiri home, Katrina had developed a taste for the good things in life, and as most rich Asian girls, she wanted to find a way to express herself. Fashion and modeling had become a way for her to dream and explore the world.

Katrina had also adopted her father’s humanitarian causes and spent a lot of her free time helping people all around the world. Therefore, the naïve and over-privileged girl the world was seeing could do more than just sing and dance.

In order to come to New York, she had begged her father for months. In her mind, her biggest dream of become an international fashion model, was going to start there. Her father had agreed reluctantly to take her with him, although he was worried about that she was completely naïve to the dangers of the big American city. He was counting on the protection of his bodyguards to keep her safe.

“Dad,” Katrina interrupted his thoughts. “When will you let me go out?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Katrina,” the man smiled indulgently. “First we have to get to the hotel, see to the security and then we will discuss your program.”

“You promised to let me go to the fashion convention,” his daughter whined.

“And you will go, but only when I am sure that you will be safe.”

“Thank you, dad,” she cried with joy and leaned towards him to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

“You are such a baby,” Hassan smiled lovingly and returned to the document he was reading.

Later that same day, Katrina walked back and forth, thinking and rethinking all that had happened in the last few hours. When her father asked her to go with him to the meeting, she thought nothing of it. The old man simply needed someone close to him during the hardest hours of his life. But now, now things were looking differently.

Hassan Radha had made an offer to take her to the fashion show in exchange for her being quiet. It all seemed so surreal, that she made her father say it again and again to the point it started to sink into her head – it was really happening.

Her father had asked for her consent, but it was obvious that he wanted her to say yes. The peace between India and Pakistan was his whole life and if for achieving it, he needed to sacrifice his daughter, so be it. Only her mother was supporting her, but Katrina knew her support would not be enough. In her family, politics was the most important thing, to the point that they did not understand Katrina’s love for art and fashion.

When she said that she would not be joining the family business everybody was disappointed in her. Her two older cousins even told her so openly, while her father chose to show his displeasure by ignoring her and leaving her mother to deal with everything related to Katrina.

Today, however, was different. He had outright told her to be good to save his career. There has not been any doubt in him, or his delegates for the matter, that this was the only action she could take. And, however, revolving that thought might be, Katrina knew deep down that she would do it for her family’s sake.

Chapter 5

At one of the high floors of the FBI headquarters in New York, agent Scott Ferguson was looking at himself in the mirror and sighed deeply. It had been a long ride to reach that moment and now that he was there, he was worried. It had taken him more than ten years to reach this point in his career and agent Ferguson was already forty-two years old. His professional appearance was making it difficult to set him apart from the rest of the FBI agents, but his analytic mind and above average intelligence were making it possible for him to shine, where others just shimmered.

He was born in New York and after the years of FBI academy had returned to work in his own city. Agent Ferguson had grown up in the suburbs in a nice family, where he had been loved and respected. His father had been the one to tell him that climbing the ladder of success should be the goal of his life. And Scott had listened to him. Today, he was awarded with the prestigious Bureau award for the most successful agent of the year.