Two days before my arrest in the alleged kidnapping and murder of Iftikhar Khan and his daughter Maria Khan, I had taken Bhatti to a cemetery in the suburbs of Taxila. It was only an hour drive from Abbottabad on the Khanpur road. Taxila was historically known as Takshashila and is a city that dates back to 5th century BC. The recorded history of Taxila starts from 6th century BC, when the Gandharan kingdom became part of the Achaemenid Empire of Persia. In the center of the cemetery, there is a round shaped stone of about six feet diameter which is placed on four feet high corner stones. This center stone is considered to be the sacrificial place and the place underneath, is the cremation chamber. I parked the car on the main road, it was sort of a small bridge and got onto a foot track. After walking for about 15 minutes, we reached the cemetery. I guided Bhatti to the sacrificial stone and told him to ignite a candle and place it under the center stone, whenever I tell him to do so. Bhatti already knew about my contacts with the supernatural. He even advised me to get their help in Maria Khan's case. I also wanted to do so, but strangely I was unable to establish any contact with them. I usually had one odd special visitor with some errand, at least once a month, but since the time I had met Maria’s soul, they had stopped visiting me. While driving down to this place, I told Bhatti that I was once taken here by the head of a migrating clan, which I had first met in Thar Desert, some 25 years ago. His name is Shamsher. He was very much obliged to me, for taking care of the problems his clan was facing at that time. He also told me once that as a compensation, I can summon him whenever I am in the deepest of troubles by igniting a candle in the cremation chamber under the sacrificial stone in the Taxila cemetery. Shamsher also took me there and showed me the exact place. Although, I didn't expect to be arrested for the murder case which I had reported myself but, unfortunately we are living in a society deprived of ethics and moral values. My last instruction to Bhatti was, that he had to ignite the candle here on any night of the week. He was quite enthusiastic at first, but all his joy went down the drain when I told him the time to light up the candle. The time had to be exact midnight and I strictly asked him to visit the cemetery alone or else our purpose will not be achieved. I allowed him to take a friend till the bridge, where he can park his car. Under no circumstances, he was to take another person with him to the cemetery.

While being taken to the Qalanadarabad police station, I was not much worried about my family. I knew they had gone through much worse, during my tenure in the law enforcement. I was pretty sure, my peon by now must have informed my brother, who would be on his way to my home and might have also called my lawyer friend. My brother although, did not know exactly, but was well aware of my undercover activities. In fact, he was the one who had introduced me to the female source, whom I had launched to extract the information from Bashir Khan’s family. I knew that my peon would have also informed Bhatti about my arrest and must have given him my message to ignite the candle. Yousaf Bhatti in turn, must be now preparing to leave for Taxila.

We reached the police station at about one pm. All my valuables, including my cellphone and wallet were in the custody of police. The wall clock in the moharir office was as old as the person sitting in front of me. He was booking me in the case, with which I absolutely had no connection. Innocence was the major source of my confidence. I was though, apprehensive about the rusty system. I was now being prepared for the sacrifice. My only hope to get out of this mess was Shamsher, and Bhatti had to ignite the candle at midnight in the haunted cemetery of Taxila for that. I believed in him. Other than me, he was the only one who knew how to summon Shamsher. After completing the formalities in moharir’s room, I was thrown in a semi dark cell where the first person I saw was none other than Yousaf Bhatti.

All my confidence was now shattered. I got closer to him and asked, ‘Did they inquire anything from you?’ He gave a worried look and replied, ‘No, they just told me that I am a co-conspirator in the kidnapping and murder of Iftikhar and Maria Khan.’ I then, looked at him with the utmost concern in my voice, ‘Bhatti, we are in deep trouble now. Inspector Faheem has recovered Maria’s bag from my office. I literally have no logical reason of its presence in my custody.’ Bhatti also seemed quite disturbed now. He looked into my eyes and said, ‘Well, you can tell them that you found the bag from some deserted place.’ I took a deep breath and said, ‘What reason will I give for my lies about my friendship with Iftikhar Khan. They only need a proof of my connection with the missing duo, and they now have found ample of it.’ I then, squeezed Bhatti’s hand and said in desperation, ‘Big question, who will now ignite the candle?’

Newspapers of the next day, were flooded with headlines of the kidnapping and killing of two British nationals in Pakistan. The police very proudly paraded us in front of the national and international media, claiming to have arrested the culprits who kidnapped their own childhood friend Iftikhar Khan and his daughter Maria Khan for money. In the next two months, we were interrogated day and night with every possible technique that they knew. We were being asked to confess. Police even found out the remains of Iftikhar and Maria, near the spot from where I had picked Maria twice. During the investigation, I told them that I found the bag from that place. This statement of mine, further incriminated me, when they discovered their bodies nearby that place. We were threatened about our families, given incentives, kept hungry and thirsty, we were not allowed to sleep for nights but all in vain. We refused to confess of any wrong doing. Another four months passed, despite our innocence and best defense, we both were set to be given death sentences by the session court. We tried to use all our options. Our businesses ruined and families were disrupted.

It was the last night before the decision day. In the morning, we were to be escorted to the Session Court number two in Abbottabad. The whole city was shut down. Abbottabad was flooded with national and international media, it was once before as well but it was different this time. I was dreaming myself along with Bhatti, getting the presidential protocol of security. It was in the midst of my dream, when I saw Maria standing in the crowd. All my senses heightened. I so wanted to meet her again. I was in trouble because of her. My gut feeling told me to get rid of her and I did that once, but I couldn't get her out of my mind. I was now, on a death row because of her. She had to help me now. I shook my head and it was no more a dream. It was real. Bhatti and I were chained and being dragged to the court room, when I saw her standing at the main gate of the court. She was still wearing the same white dress and pointed her finger towards me. I could also see her lips moving, she was saying something but I couldn't understand. There were too many people and so much of noise in the court premises. We were hurried into the court room and the door was shut behind us. We were now sitting on a bench. It was not long before, when the session judge arrived and sat on his seat, I suddenly realised what Maria was trying to say. She was pointing her finger towards me and repeatedly saying, ‘You.’ And then, the solution to all my problems flashed in my mind. It was almost after six months that a smile had appeared on my face. I looked at Bhatti and he certainly was thinking that I had lost my mind.

The judge had come and taken his seat, when I whispered in my lawyer’s ear, ‘I want to confess.’ My lawyer gave a very confusing look and tried to ignore, but I stood up and said in a loud voice, ‘Your honour, I want to confess. Please give me a chance to unfold the details. The guilt is too grave. It is too heavy of a burden to lift. Please your honour, I beg you to give me a chance.’ The judge looked at the prosecutor, who seemed more confused than my lawyer, he had no option but to agree. The judge then, postposed the decision and gave one week till the next hearing. I was sent back on the judicial remand, where I confessed everything which the police had charged me with, except for mentioning no role of Bhatti in the crime. Police otherwise, also had found no link of Bhatti with Iftikhar Khan or Maria. He was only dragged into the case for his friendship with me and for the reason that he had accompanied me to the Qalandarabad police station, where we had gone to lodge the report. The police prosecutor happily accepted my plea and also agreed to exonerate my friend Bhatti. Accordingly, my statement was presented in the court on our next hearing and I was charged with the kidnapping and murder of two foreign nationals. All the details about the way they were killed and where they were kept after kidnapping were told to me by police, which I narrated in my statement. The case had become very simple now. I was portrayed as a maniac in the media, who for the sake of money killed his own friend and his daughter. I had declined to offer any new defense witness. I also fired my lawyer because he was objecting to everything. After a couple of hearings, the decision date was set to be 20th December 2019. Almost a year had passed, since I had first seen Maria standing on the roadside of a cutting. Time flew so quickly. Abbottabad city was under siege once again. Bhatti and I were escorted to the session court. The judge arrived and read the verdict. I was to be hanged twice. Yousaf Bhatti was however, set free and it was the biggest relief. The same afternoon, instead of going to his home, Bhatti left his relatives stranded in the court and headed straight towards the cemetery of Taxila. Rashid Nizami was sitting with him. Shamsher had to be summoned now. He was my only hope. It was time to get paid back for all the things I did for them in the last twenty years. I couldn’t sleep the whole night and kept waiting for a miracle to happen. There was pin drop silence in the Abbottabad jail where I was kept. Time was crawling and it was in the hours of the morning that I dozed off. I was suddenly woken up by a call for prayer. It was 5.30 am and there was no sign of Shamsher. ‘Did Bhatti ignite the candle?’ I was thinking about it and getting worried, when morning hooter of the jail blew at full volume waking up everyone in the jail. I closed my eyes and dozed off again. The dream this time, was clearer than ever. There was an empty hanging rope waiting for somebody’s head.

to be continued...