Dunking Ink (5)

This party preparations rolled on. Workers wore identification passes on white bands around their necks. Armed guards stopped nobody and checked none of the supplies carried in the elevators packed in boxes. One of the guards noticed, every time Bento climbed with supply boxes, the elevator stopped at twenty-second floor. That was the floor locked down with old cash collection. Every time the forklift operator rolled the crates and dumped beside the stacks of old currency pallets, not necessarily in a gentle manner. Then he’d remove old currency from the pallets to the amount dumped.

Finally, the halls were set for the function. Long serving tables cladded white placed by the walls painted white and decorated of some horrifying framed pictures of grey wolves. In other words, those tall glass panels on the four walls were hidden behind plywood fabrications to hide the picturesque view of the sea around. Pot plants of scented freesias neatly arranged at hip level beside the walls and in rows at mid hall of ten thousand square feet on each floor. Game tables placed fairly dispersed and hidden rows of chairs.

Kiyaveli, a tall guy, accompanied by half a dozen bearded men wearing Perahan tunbans and turbans like a bunch of Pashtuns, led prayers while sprinkling sacred water and spellbound the venue of Cosmo Tower.

Jina called and Soda arrived at the lab. “We have an interesting development. A five hundred bill collected by a pickup driver transporting goods from Libra House to the hospital,” cried Jina, “He tried an ATM deposit and it spit out. Driver reported to the ward police station and I have it here. This is a counterfeit and not in circulation. It is fresh. It has Moha’s fingerprints. It comes from the same stock you passed. I asked the driver who confirmed that it was Moha who paid with this bill.”

“Will he testify?”

“Yes,” replied Jina.

“Libra House, that’s President’s home!”

“That’s right. First Lady is organising a party up on the tower. I took a look around. I saw Moha and some of his mates taking a break at Bara-Ana.”

“How much is that?”

“That’s a café at the waterfront. Bara-ana is ten lari in Old Divehi. Twelve of ten make one rufiya.”

“How so?”

“When rufiya was introduced,” said Jina, “it was based on the exchange rate to a Ceylonese silver rupee at a value of one-twenty.”

“Huh!” shocked Soda, “What sort of a party?”

“I don’t know,” said the forensic officer, “Special Forces are keeping security there.”

“What do you mean…special?”

“Special…very special. Untouchables. That force assigned to Colonel Harry…”

“Dirty Harry!”

“I wouldn’t put it that way…but yes.”

“I have seen Moha on the back of his motorbike.”

“Sir, I have to tell you that’s where the old money is accumulated after removing from the vaults.”

“Why was that?”

“Orders from the…Governor…”

“Find me about this party. I think you should tell your superiors about this now.”

“Why?”

“A hunch…”

“A what?”

“A…” Soda laughed, “Cut off Pink Panther!”

Soda and Jina with few other senior officers and the Deputy sat down with the Police Commissioner at his office. “Islamic centres, courts, customs and some of the military wings do not collaborate with us,” said the Police Commissioner, “None of us is invited and useless to carry a fake invitation card in an attempt to get in particularly when it’s organised by the top. We do not want to end up in an embarrassment.

“I have spoken to the Governor. He’s worried too but the stock up there is old currency with orders to be destroyed immediately after deadline. All we can do is to keep an eye.”

Commissioner carried on, “We are looking into Moha’s movements trying to capture from CCTVs. It will take a while. However, I’m ready to support the sergeant with his plan to infiltrate into the event or perhaps the venue disguised as a chef or a waiter as we figured there is another possible way to reach the floors or the rooftop. Explain please, Deputy Waxan!”

Deputy cleared his throat, “Four elevators at the east corner in the south front are used by the hospital at the moment to store equipment and supplies. Five floors are completed with beds. Work goes on,” Deputy Waxan continued, “Cosmo Tower looms in the skyline taller than any other building in the capital. I am organising an area watch and drones ready. All the elevators are locked from 19^th floor but there is the stairwell…”

“Question is…” cut in the Commissioner, “what are we looking for?”