Fred, New York, USA

Fred twisted and turned in his bed. His usually peaceful sleep was disturbed today. What was it that was troubling? His father’s retirement, his mother’s health, and his brother’s exams. Everything lay in front of his eyes the moment his back touched the bed.

Today was different. Fred got up as his nose picked up a strange smell. It was a strong fragrance—a perfume—a man’s perfume—not the pleasant kind, but one that irritates the nostrils. 

He tried to ignore it and tried to sleep. Somehow, sleep eluded him today. He got up and sat on his bed. He could hear noises. 

“Now what?”

The clock near his bed was showing the time as 3 am. 

“3 am? Who goes to work at 3 am?”

Fred moved out of his cosy bed, which was causing him the agony of a sleepless night, not to forget the strong, hideous perfume!

He opened the refrigerator to get a bottle of water. Gulped down the cool liquid. The inside of him cooled down as the chilled water travelled down from his neck and chest towards his stomach.

That sound again. That perfume again.

Fred made up his mind to open the door and take a look outside. He opened the door, and a whiff of that perfume hit his nose again. He picked up a baseball bat and slowly moved towards the common staircase.

To his horror, he saw the door of his neighbour's house slightly open. It was Dr Sen’s house. Without making a sound, he moved in. The perfume was strong now. He saw a man sitting on the floor with his back towards the door. He was searching for something. Desperate, sweating, frustrated.

“Oh…that perfume again!”

Fred hit the bat with force, and the man was flat on the floor. 

He quickly woke up other grumbling neighbours, who were as irritated as he had been. They called the police. It was a relief that the intruder was alive and kicking…kicking literally, at Fred.

Dr. Sen was called back home. He had to cut back his vacation and return home. He confirmed there was an attempt at theft in his home, where the intruder or a spy had been looking for some important documents. Documents that contained research material about a deadly virus. 

The police, and especially Dr. Sen, thanked Fred. A slight pink colour showed on Fred’s usually colourless and dry cheeks. He was blushing now. 

“Oh, it was nothing. The hideous perfume that man was wearing probably woke me up, and I could track him down, you know.”

“What perfume?” The sheriff asked.

“Can't you smell it? Uff, it is so strong. Who wears such strong perfume nowadays?”

"Son, we cannot smell anything other than some leftovers in the kitchen and those sweet flowers at the entrance."

“Oh, I must have been dreaming then."

Puzzled, Fred walked back to his flat and then entered his room.

There was a small envelope on this pillow. Picking it up, Fred opened it. Confused because he was one hundred per cent sure he did not keep anything on his pillow. No one entered the house. He was just down there. He was now scared because of the incident he had just been through.

“Did someone enter when I was down?” 

The blush on his face, which had recently lit up, slowly faded as he opened the envelope. He stared at it for some time and threw it on the bed. There was a letter printed on it. The letter F. Beautifully curved, in a delicate font, black and golden colour.

There was a message printed with an address.

Dear F, see you there in 10 days

4th industrial town, Old Mill Gate

New York

It also had a ticket and some cash.

__________

Ishani, Mumbai, India

Ishani, that was her name. Pretty as a flower. Shy as a touch-me-not plant. Bright as a bulb. Ishani stayed alone. Along with her pet dog. Tommy was her only support.

She would sit and think. “How did I ever get my name? I am an orphan.”

Yes, she was. She was picked up by a beggar couple from a garbage point. Discarded, without clothes, crying for her mother. Someone had thrown her, not wanting to take care of a weak child. Years later, the couple discovered the reason she was left in a garbage can in the first place. She was blind. Blind as a bat.

The couple taught her what they already knew. Begging.

Ishani became adept at begging. She would sing, dance, climb trees, do magic shows, and so on. Then, she would walk around with a cup in her hand, asking for money from invisible people who had already left the place.

She then learnt to walk on a rope. People would give a good amount of money to see a blind girl walking on a tightrope. After the day’s hard work, Ishani would return with a handful of money, some food and a lot of hope for the next day.

That day was different.

That day, as Ishani finished her show and went around the crowd, a coin was placed in her hand. She felt as if she had been struck by lightning. A current passed through her with that touch. She immediately threw the coin on the ground and called out to the person.

“Sir, Sir, wait.”

“What is it?’ asked the man.

“Can you please pick that coin and give it to me?” She made a cute face and puppy eyes.

The man wondered, “Should he?”. He then picked up the coin and placed it on her hand.

She felt the current again. This time, the current was strong. It moved her to a different place. She could sense danger. She could feel death. Cold and ugly. It was all coming from this man. She sensed blood. Warm and sticky trickling through his hand to hers.

“Sir, I need help. Can you please walk with me and help me cross the road?”

Ishani knew there was a police constable who drank tea at the tea stall at this time. 

“Only if he could be there now. What would I say to him? I just got electrocuted by this gentleman here?” Ishani's thoughts were running wild.

Maybe this once he will help. She prayed to whatever the higher spirits were. She never prayed. Her relationship with god was put to an end the day she was thrown in a dustbin by her so-called parents. 

Never mind.

She caught hold of the man’s hand and started to walk. The pain was unbearable. She tightened her lips, a drop of tear from her eye wanting to escape, had to be curtailed, but the discomfort was palpable.

The constable knew her. He knew she did not take help. Come what may, so why today? Something was a miss. He sent a small boy from the tea stall to see if all was good. 

The moment the man saw someone approaching, he tried to pull back and run. Ishani’s grip became tight. So tight that the man had to cry out. The constable ran and caught hold of the man and separated Ishani from him. 

Once settled, Ishani described her experience. She was sure not one soul would believe it. Days later, she was called to the police station. The senior Inspector there spoke to her. They informed her that the man had his wife’s dead body in his house. Probably had murdered her the day before in cold blood and was planning to dispose of the body.

It was Ishani’s sense of touch that had helped them to nail a murderer. They asked Ishani to be available when needed and let her go.

Spellbound, Ishani returned home. “Did I get that man caught with my sense of touch? Maybe I have some superpower, yeah, Tommy?”

There was a knock on the door. As she opened it, she sensed someone there, but no one answered. She began closing the door of her shack when something caught at her feet. It was an envelope. She called Raghu, the tiny tot who read it out for her.

A letter ‘I’. Beautifully curved, in a delicate font, black and golden colour.

There was a message printed and an address.

Dear I, see you there in 10 days

4th industrial town, Old Mill Gate

New York

There was a plane ticket and some cash in it.

__________

Victor, London, United Kingdom

“Could you hear it, doctor?"

“No, Victor. There is no one here shouting for your help, dear boy. You must try to sleep now.”

“How can I sleep when these terror-stricken, desperate shouts fill my ears?”

“Did you take your pills, Victor?”

“Er, yes, I did, doctor.”

"Good, now go to sleep. We will meet tomorrow for the session. Ok, my boy?”

Victor was lodged in the Good Health Care hospital in England in a psychiatric ward. He complained of hearing voices and sounds that no one could hear. 

It was in early December 2021 that it started. He was fast asleep when he heard a girl crying for help. He woke up the entire house, along with his parents. They made an extensive search around the house. No girl, let alone crying, was found on the premises.

The voices in his ears started to increase. Victor could hear them while eating, sleeping, playing and studying. The voices were in him, and he could not make them go, like we do, by just closing his ears.

“What are these voices? Who are they? What do they want?”

Thoughts like these kept him awake. Self-doubt ate at him like a hungry lion eating away the remains of a dead animal.

That’s when he made a friend. A friend who could understand him and not call him stupid. A friend who could not call him mad, if that is the word they use for people who hear voices. She taught him to concentrate on one voice instead of getting confused. She taught him to listen. 

She worked at the Good Health Care hospital. Victor was trying his best to beat his fears, and the doctors were doing their best to stop the voices.

One pleasant morning, when the patients were left alone to enjoy their caged time with nature, Victor heard the voices again. This time, he did not close his ears but closed his eyes and meditated. He tried to concentrate on one voice that he felt was worth listening to. 

The ocean of voices calmed, and two whispers remained. 

A plot.

Two people are planning.

A financial war declaration. Revenge.

A bank to be looted.

Date, day and time discussed.

"Oh my god!" Victor almost fell from his meditation chair. He ran to the reception and called his friend. He narrated everything and insisted that she call the police. 

“I cannot do that, Victor. Are you telling me you heard a plot to rob the bank?”

“Yes, I am. Please call the police and tell them to at least be there on the given date and time. Please”. He pleaded.

“What if they ask me for proof?”

“Send them to me. I may have it.”

He disconnected the phone. The receptionist was keenly observing him. Then gave him her gentle smile. After all, it was the psychiatric ward, wasn't it?

A week later, Victor was summoned to the station. His friend was there with a senior police officer. A bunch of disgruntled men sat on the floor with their hands tied behind. The plot to rob the Bank of New England was spoiled. All those who were part of the plot were arrested. Victor stared blankly in disbelief as he was congratulated by many present there. 

He was happy to escape to his unknown world before anyone could ask questions. Thanks to his friend and the senior officer who trusted him. Trusted the voices he heard.

The newspapers the next day were full of the news of the spoiled bank robbery attempt, while Victor continued with his medicines and fine-tuned his hearing.

“Here, this came for you.” His friend handed him an envelope.

Victor opened the envelope to see a letter on which a beautiful ‘V’ was printed in black and gold. There was a message for him. It was signed by none.

Dear V, see you there in 10 days

4th industrial town, Old Mill Gate

New York

There was a plane ticket and some cash in it.

__________

Eshe, Cape Town, Africa

“Did he tell what poison it was?”

“How do I know, Sweetheart? He arrived just yesterday.”

“It is magic, isn’t it? A boy his age, staying in a jungle, knows what today’s learned doctors and forensic experts could not tell. He is just 20, no?”

“Dont jump to conclusions, Dear. We have not seen the results yet. Remember that before you start scratching out the big names. He is just a boy without any medical experience at all”.

“So, when do we get to meet him? Anytime now, no?” Elma asked, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. 

Dr. Jones got up and left for work before he was asked other questions by his wife that could get him in trouble. Dr. Jones was a forensic expert and was handling a very complex case. A wealthy businessman was found dead in his hotel room in Cape Town. He was on a business visit. 

No gunshot, no strangulation, no visible marks of struggle. Keeping this in mind, all they could assume was poison. Many questions were unanswered, though. Which poison, how was it administered, when, and why did the body not show any reaction?

When everything failed, someone came up with a name- Eshe. They said he stays in the deep jungles of Africa. He is a student and stays with the numerous tribes that call these forests their home. His ancestors were a part of one of the tribes, and they accepted Eshe with open arms when he returned to learn about their practices.

It was the first time Eshe saw a big hospital with such a big lab. Pieces of equipment were neatly placed in a row. Colourful liquids, jars with body parts, white, clear surfaces without a peck of dirt. It was a dream come true for Eshe. Doctors moved around in white coats, looking busy. He was welcomed by Dr. Jones. 

He was taken directly to examine the dead body. Doctors had no clue of the reason behind his death and hence could not give any explanation or background. He was just told the circumstances under which the businessman was found.

Eshe asked to visit the hotel room where the deceased had stayed. As soon as he reached, he asked everyone to leave and wanted to be alone. He examined every room. He saw every table, every cup and every plate used.

After an hour had passed, Eshe picked up an ashtray and handed it over to Dr. Jones, who was waiting impatiently. To Dr. Jones’ surprise, Eshe scooped some ash from the ashtray on his finger and licked it. Then, he announced nonchalantly.

"The poison was on the cigarette that the deceased smoked. It is a rare mixture of herbs that are found in African forests and acts as a deadly poison when mixed. It is very difficult to trace this as the herbs leave no traces once the person is dead."

“Does it not affect you?’

“No, no poison affects me. I have the blessing, it seems.” Eshe replied with a smile.

“Search for a person who must have visited the deceased recently. Look for any travel details from Africa or any parcel that says organic products and herbs. You will find the killer, Dr. Jones.”

Eshe returned to his room. He had to get ready for the big dinner held to celebrate his efforts to help the forensic team.

He found an envelope neatly kept on the bed. As he opened it, he found his initial, printed in a beautiful black and golden colour font, ‘E’. There was a message and an address with some money and a ticket.

The card read, 

Dear E, see you there in 10 days

4th industrial town, Old Mill Gate

New York

__________

Number 5

Retired Army colonel, A trained commando.

Name: Unknown

Calls himself number 5

Known to friends and family as an Investment Banker. No one knows what he really does.

Number 5 walked into the 4th industrial town, Old Mill Gate, New York.

In front of him were the Fabulous FIVE

Fred, Ishnai, Victor and Eshe

Their journey as crime fighters starts with each having a unique quality of the five senses. Fred could smell crime, Ishani had a special sense of touch, Victor could hear crime, and Eshe tasted crime to solve crime. 

Number 5 binds them together. His quality. Sight. He saw all four and got them together to make them the Fabulous FIVE5, including himself, to fight and solve crime. An attempt to restore peace and justice in this unsettled and unjust world.