20th May, 2015,
Hyderabad
“Awwwww…….Nahi, Nahi, Naaahh…..”
“No, No, No, Nooooo……” these screams which pierced through the alley-ways surrounding the place would have normally terrified the passersby, but no one was new to the place to be taken in by these crocodile tears and screams. They were the protests of 6-year old Raju, against his father who was pouring water over his head with one hand while holding his adamant son from running away with the other.
“Uff…..! What a mess! And I thought the work at the site in this summer’s heat was tough. It’s nothing compared to washing this devil”, he complained to the boy’s mother loudly over his screams.
The mother was washing their clothes just beside the father-son duo and was being helped by her 9-year old daughter. Her patience was slowly draining away because of her son’s screams and her husband’s complaint was the last straw. She shouted something loudly and whipped the wet cloth she was washing in the direction of her son. It didn’t touch him but the message got carried. Raju understood that he couldn’t win this fight, no matter what, and grudgingly accepted his fate by remaining silent for the rest of the bath duration.
His sister sympathized with his childishness and watched amusingly as the boy completed the bath, got rubbed all over with a towel by their father and then directed inside to wear his clothes.
This family migrated from their village to the city in search of work when their daughter was 1 year old. Since, that time they had worked in various construction sites, only the father for 3 years, joined by his wife after his son was 1 year old, and by his daughter when she was 7 years old. The 6-year old son was the only unemployed member of the family. He was underage by one year! Not by the country’s law standards but the parents’ tender heart standards. The country’s limit was much higher. Always robbing the poor, these government people! What do they know about the money a child can bring! He should be sent to a school, huh, what a preposterous proposition! Work makes a boy a man, the father concluded every single time they had this discussion.
The war of the ‘bath’erloo usually took place every evening at the edge of the basement of the construction site. The water drained to the wasteland which lay beyond the edge at a depth of almost 3 meters. Next, it was the daughter’s turn for having a bath and the dutiful girl took the bucket to the open sump of the building, filled it with the help of the lever arrangement and brought it to the bath site and calmly went about her business, making her mother wonder why hadn’t God given just another sweet daughter in the place of the mischief machine.
This daily family drama of screaming was not new to the neighbors. Some enjoyed it, some found it disturbing but resentfully got used it, some still shouted across their windows,
“What’s with this ruckus? Has it no end?”
“What happens if he doesn’t bath for a single day?”,…..and so on.
The couple conveniently ignored these comments and went about the humongous task at hand with ease and grace. Raju equaled the ease but certainly not the grace. In summary, neither the boy yielded, nor the parents. The ‘bath’erloo went on day after day.
The happiness of this family was immense and was certainly not in proportion to their meager means.
*
28th May, 2015
Hyderabad
Raju was missing!!
Initially, they thought he was playing with his friends but upon enquiry they said that he didn’t join them. There were a string of such missing children cases recently in their neighborhood, all labor children, and this worried the couple more than anything. They thought that such things happened only to fictitious people in the papers and news, not to them. Certainly, not to them! They reached out to their fellow workers’ families for a search operation, but to no avail. They then approached the local police station but couldn’t file a proper case because they needed a, what did he say it was, ‘foto’ of the boy.
“Photo, Bhai saahab, Photo”, explained a good-natured police officer with immense effort.
Anyways, finally a vague case was registered, and the Inspector said in an off-hand voice,” Dekhlenge.” ‘We’ll see’. It did nothing to decrease their torment.
Back home, the father did his best to not show his anguish as he had to do console the remaining two members. “They will not do anything to him, dear,” he said, to which she replied sobbing,” Yes, no-one who has ever been with my laddu can harm him, he is a gem”.
The girl couldn’t say anything. She stared silently at the stars above her. She knew her brother wherever he was would be gazing at the same stars.
*
30th May, 2015
Outskirts of Hyderabad, Express-way
A police officer pushed through the crowd congregated over the side of the road.
“Move over, move over”, he shouted as he made his way through the crowd.
As he approached the officer at the site, he was explained,” A child’s body, sir, head was beaten by a boulder, even his parents will have trouble recognizing him”
“Ugh, What the hell! Such a case right in the morning,” he grumbled,” send information to all stations that all a body is available and potential parents can identify and claim the body…..Ugh…..What a smell!!”. He rushed from the site, got in his jeep and drove towards the city at high speed.
The constables then painstakingly cleared the traffic, loaded the body carefully, sent information through the radio and left the place in their vehicle.
The body’s owner went by the name of Raju.
**
Chapter-2: The Detectives
Hyderabad
1st June
It was just another posh evening at the Novotel buffet hall where the much-respected, famous and now-retired business man, P.K.Singh was celebrating his 80th birthday. The hall was filled with top notch politicians, high ranking civil officers, cinema stars normal people only dreamed of seeing outside the big screen, sports legends and so on. The list was endless and so was the wine. Three-Quarters of the big shots present were highly drunk and the remaining quarter of them were having a hard time engaging them in a meaningful conversation. The old man himself, soaked in wine, was bragging loudly about his past exploits and how he outwitted his competitors and stood ahead of the competition ‘every single time’.
“EVERY SINGLE TIME”, he emphasized louder than ever to everyone in the room making the drunk applaud and the sober embarrassed.
Inspector Damodar, sitting calmly at a corner, looked like a fish out of water in this posh crowd. Simply dressed in a semi-formal shirt, he just remained sitting there watching the silly talk and baseless giggles of the people present with a disinterested face. With a lean body frame and narrow face, his 6-feet height appeared even more accentuated. The seriousness of his profession got to him so much that as he saw the people gathered there, he could only remember the police cases registered against them. He started counting them off with his fingers,
“Mohan Lal - Money laundering- Released due to lack of evidence”
“Smith – Drug Racketeering- Suspicious disappearance of witnesses”
“Sarfaraz Khan – Road rage causing death of 10 people –out on bail”
His count stopped as his cold eyes rested on the man of the hour. “The big fish”, he thought as he slowly got up from his chair and slowly approached him. As Damodar walked towards him, sub-consciously, his trained mind was working with top-notch efficiency to recall the entire list of crimes he was responsible for. Drug trafficking, Child smuggling, women trafficking, land mafia, Sandalwood smuggling…….
A little smile came across his face, as he saw the people around him and the ‘respect’ the man commanded. “Irony, irony, irony, the worlds’ full of it,” he mused as he pushed aside a man facing the veteran criminal and gave forward his hand to shake.
“Damodar,” the old Singh roared triumphantly as he accepted the gesture, “At last you have joined me leaving aside your petty accusations, or am I being too early to shed my reservations about you.”
“Innocent till you are found guilty, sir,” he said adding the sir with great difficulty, “and till that time you are the pioneer of modern Indian Industry”
Damodar was an extremely popular inspector among the general public for solving many murder cases and disrupting numerous organized crime syndicates. His sincerity and integrity were equally well-known and it was these traits of his that the public liked even more than his enormous potential as a law enforcer. He was known to be rash and intolerant when interacting with criminals and the veteran businessman in his point of view deserved this treatment more than anyone. These two had a long history of cat and mouse chases with each of them winning approximately half the battles. Mr. Singh had enormous respect for his 30-year old adversary but Damodar had only disgust and hate towards the age-old criminal. As Damodar approached Singh, everyone’s’ eyes were fixed on the clash of these titans.
“I wonder if I had already got used to that tone of yours, dear,” Singh said with a warm smile as if he was addressing a rude child.
“You will once I arrest you,” Damodar grumpily thought in his mind as he smiled and handed over his gift to him. He was making his way back when a lady screamed and fell down two tables away from the main table where they were having this conversation. Damodar walked fast so as to not get hindered from the crowd and examined the lady’s pulse. She was just unconscious and lying on the floor. The woman who collapsed was Mr. Singh’s wife. He looked around to see how he was taking the incident. He was an old man and his inability to walk at normal pace avoided his rushing to the scene. As expected, he was standing there by the main table trying to glance over the crowd and get a grasp of the situation. But surprisingly he was not accompanied by any of his assistants. They all rushed to the site to help his wife. He shifted his gaze back to Mrs. Singh, where efforts were being made to make her regain consciousness. He wanted to ask her why she had screamed when a huge shattering noise erupted behind him. The chandelier had fallen onto the floor and…
And Mr. Singh was lying below it surrounded by a pool of crimson.
*
The luxurious and spacious hall at once became congested and suffocating with the entry of a considerable battalion of police. The guests were not allowed to leave the hall as the confirmation was not given that the incident was just an accident. Photos were being clicked away at every angle possible of the dead body by police photographers. Police were moving all around and were deftly being handled by none other than Damodar himself. Only this time, he seemed to be continuously talking to a young boy standing beside him.
“….And you rushed to his wife?” the boy asked.
“Yes, I looked back at him after a few moments and he was standing all alone by the table. It was strange that none of his bodyguards were there”, replied Damodar to which the boy nodded.
“Did you find his cell phone?” he asked the police examining the body.
Damodar didn’t understand why he was bothered about the phone. He turned to his side to ask him about it and he was gone. Damodar scanned though the crowd and found him interacting with the P.A. of the deceased man. He walked across to him, and in an angry tone said,” Naren, I thought we were working on this case together. How can you rush about…..” and stopped having noticed that he had made a blunder by saying out his name. Almost every guest in the hall was eyeing the boy in amazement. This was the Naren they had heard so much about in the news.
Detective Naren rose to fame when he was very young and was known to be a boy-wonder among the police circles. Son of the head of the Police Department, who was also the boss of Damodar, he developed a knack of solving crime scenes from a very early age. Known for his singular observation capacity, his real talent lied in connecting the dots and revealing the big picture before anyone could even conceive of that possibility. He didn’t join the police force saying he didn’t like to work in a hierarchical system. So, he worked as a private consultant and appeared only for the tricky cases. He was 17 years old and in a sense was a contemporary to Damodar. His fame which was due to his merit equaled Damodar’s, which was due to his integrity and perseverance. Both of them had enormous respect for each other, and them working together on a case was a rare and delightful sight indeed for the police officers working alongside them. He appeared for this case only on the insistence of his father as the deceased was a very important member of society.
Naren ignored the eyes which were looking at him in admiration and amazement. He was quite used to all the attention and rather enjoyed it very much. He replied to Damodar,” I just took the number of Mr. Singh to call him up. Hopefully the culprit is dumb enough to not put the phone in silent mode. So, you remember him holding it in his hand when the chandelier fell on him. Am I right?” he asked with half attention dialing in the number.
“Yes but don’t expect the culprit to not take such a preliminary precaution….”
Rrrringggg……
A beautiful lady in her 30s was looking up with a dread look on her face. The phone was with her. An officer went to her and collected the phone.
Damodar was dumbstruck and Naren looked at him and smiled. He said, “Timing is everything, Damodar. Do you remember when she could have had access to the body?”
“Never, I had the body guarded all the time,” replied Damodar.
“Uhmm, actually I requested the guards to lower their stance just a while ago. So everyone could touch and hug their beloved pioneer one last time,” Naren told with a sheepish smile.
“Why would you do that?”Damodar yelled at him amazed and angry at the same time.
“The old man staying at the same location, when his wife collapsed was the first thing out of place. Why would he do that? One possibility was that he had an understanding with someone to do so. If this is in the form of signals or hand gestures we can’t do anything about it. But what if a phone was used to send messages? The culprit would be eager to get hold of it. Of course all this talk is only in terms of probability but it was worth a shot,” explained Naren patiently.
“What if she had deleted the messages? Or worse destroyed the SIM card?” asked Damodar.
“That’s where the timing part comes in. I engaged you with questions while I let them in and immediately called the phone so that they don’t have time to alter it. Meanwhile I did keep my eyes on everyone who approached the body. I would have caught him alternatively by having all of those persons who approached the body stripped and searched,” Naren said, “and Inspector, what do you find on the phone?”
The officer who collected the phone from the lady said, “Looks like she was messaging him asking him to keep standing there. She was, I don’t know, flirting…….. I’m not sure.”
Naren approached the woman in a brisk and serious manner. It was how he operated with people. He played with their mentality. “Say the truth, you may stand a chance, say anything else and you will be in for...” he acted as if he was thinking for a while and said finally in a matter-of-fact tone, “25 years, I guess.”
“I was having an affair with him”, said the woman in a hushed, hurried manner that surprised even herself, “and I was asking him to stay where he was……. All alone, king of the world….you know that sort of stuff. I was just trying to inflate his ego. He likes it when I do that.”
“And you drugged Mrs. Singh to draw the crowd to her in-order to avoid unnecessary causalities,” said Damodar and added to the surprised Naren, “Yes, the results just came in. The drink of the lady was drugged. A capsule was used to deliver the drug which takes around half-hour to melt. So, that leaves a huge window for anyone, especially someone with a motive”, he added looking at the lady.
“No, no, no…..I didn’t kill him. We were lovers. I would never….”she was saying when Damodar interrupted her and asked the police to take her in for questioning. “Okay, men clear the perimeter. We are leaving. Good Work, Naren….Naren??”
He was standing alone in the hall, eyes closed, thinking hard. He suddenly opened his eyes and a smile came over his face. He said, “No Damodar, she was not the killer. The real culprit is someone else.”
All the guests and police were staring intently at him listening to what he had to say next. There was pin-drop silence in the hall.
“It is you who have killed him”, he said with his index finger pointing in the direction of Mrs. Singh.
Everyone was surprised. There was a dim murmur with excited hand movements all around.
“What are you saying?” blurted out Damodar.
“This is insane. I’m lost for words,” Mrs. Singh said recovering from the shock.
“The truth is always naked”, said Naren, “It cannot be hid no matter what one does. The glass which she is supposed to drink is the foremost anomaly. How does the mistress make sure that it is the wife who drinks it out of the hundred people present here? So, the only person who could have without a shade of doubt poisoned her and not anyone else is only herself.”
“Then how did she know for sure that this other woman would be messaging him to stay there and secondly how does she know that he would not come to her as she falls down?”
“Yes, here I think she used an accomplice and asked him to cut the rope of the chandelier only if the Mr. Singh doesn’t move to her aid. It’s a test, you see, to gauge his fidelity and care towards her. If he passed it, he lived, otherwise, well, you know what happened. Coming to the point of pinning the crime on the mistress, I think it was not intended before-hand and just came as a bonus,” he said.
“This is insane. Why would I murder my husband?” she shouted, “I will report to your superiors about your obnoxious behavior young man”
“As to the question of the motive I can only guess. Maybe the wealth, Maybe the extra-marital affair, who knows? Only you would,” he said, “and as to the question of superiors I have none. I am a private detective, a consultant if you like”, he added coolly.
She turned to Damodar and said, “What is this, Damodar? I expected a professional conduct from you of all people. Why are you letting him speak to me that way?”
Damodar said to her with a smile,” I’m afraid he’s making sense, ma’am.”
“To hell with you people, where’s your proof? In-despicable behavior, I say,” she said, clearly getting worked up. The mistress was watching this drama with a dumb look on her face.
“I’m sure the capsule will have your finger-prints, ma’am if you didn’t use gloves. Even though it’s mixed with water the prints get retained. So, you are a sitting duck either way. It would be better for you to confess to the crime if you didn’t wear gloves because the sentence could get lightened. Your choice,” he concluded and waited for her reaction.
Mrs. Singh’s face had a devastated look. Her eyes were red and loaded with water. She kneeled down to the ground and started sobbing. She blurted out, “I admit I killed the rascal. Old Fox. 80 years and still wants to have sex with a 30 year old good-for-nothing whore. God was on my side as I planned the entire scenario. She got framed for his murder. Everything was fine until you came along, you little devil. You….”
“That’s enough”, said Damodar as he directed his troops saying,” Take her in.”
He then turned to Naren who was standing calmly beside him and said, “That’s one more case under your belt, boy. You are one gutsy person to tell a lie right on her face. You know that prints will not be found on the capsule once immersed in a liquid. What would you have done if she didn’t buy the lie?”
“See, that’s the problem with you mate, you go too much by the book,” after a little pause, he continued, “I saw it on her face. Believe it or not, that mixed feeling of triumph and sadness. Triumph of the ego and loss of the inner self. She was looking for something to catch on to, to relieve the loss. Even a lie, anything would have done it. I gave it to her and she caught on to it like thirsty men drink water,” he concluded shrugging his shoulders.
“I won’t understand your methods ever,” Damodar replied with affectionate smile on his face, “Need a ride home?”
“Yup sure,” Naren replied as he got into the car.
“That dialogue you said about truth being naked. Nice one, boy.”
“Don’t call me boy and thanks. I thought of it at that moment to further scare the poor old lady into telling the truth”
“Poor old lady?! She murdered a man, boy.”
“Did you not hear me. Don’t call me boy”
Damodar smiled to himself as he backed the car out of the parking lot. ‘You may be brilliant but you are still a boy, Narendra Nath Datta’ he thought.
*
It took a while before Damodar cleared the Press around the police station. He had somehow escaped the media at the Hotel entrance by giving a brief statement about the murder and not taking up many questions. But they didn’t accept defeat so easily and swarmed around his two-town police head-quarters. They had only cleared only after he had painstakingly answered each and every question. Many times he had to chide the reporters for repeating the questions some other reporter asked earlier in the session.
‘I don’t get paid for this. This is tougher than the actual police work,’ he mused to himself as he returned inside the police station wiping his forehead after seeing off the last question.
His deputy was waiting for him in his room with a case file in his hand. His head lightened as he saw that and thought to himself, “Ah! At-last some actual police work.”
His deputy saluted him and spoke,“ Sir, Sorry to bother you with work as and when you returned. It can wait, sir. You can relax for a while”
“No, no. I am in a perfect condition for a case. All that small talk dulled my brain. There’s nothing like a fresh case to turn things up. Tell me, what is it?” Damodar asked him.
The deputy expected him to say that. He knew that his Boss had been out all day for work and any other person would have returned home after it. But they knew Damodar only too well to expect him to do that. His dedication to his work was so high that he was recognized and highly regarded by the uppermost circles of the Police Department and the Legislators. He led by example and treated his sub-ordinates with respect. As a result they even worked overtime along-side him every-day without complaining and treated even the poorest people who had come to register complaints with respect. This kind of treatment to the lower class by the police was priory unheard of in the police circles.
“Missing Child, sir, the name’s Raju. The whole family is here. They don’t fall in our jurisdiction, but they say that their 1 town inspector is not looking into the matter,” the deputy said,” So they want you to look at it.”
“That is not possible, my man. We can’t take the whole city’s cases now, can we? I can connect them to some responsible officer….” He stopped as he saw the family squatting on the floor with blank looks on their face. They lost all hope and even desperation was not visible on their faces. An utter feeling of hopelessness gripped Damodar as he looked at them. His heart ached with pity.
‘These people won’t find their son, dead or alive, if I don’t help them,’ he thought, ‘But I have numerous cases of my own……wait a minute, I know just what to do.’
*
“So, the wife killed the husband because he was having an affair,” asked Pushpa, blowing the lather over her coffee.
“Yup, the irony is that, out of all the crimes he committed he got killed over a simple case of jealousy. Strange are the ways of fate,” Naren sighed sipping his Black Coffee.
It was 8 in the evening and the CCD they were sitting at had a cool and pleasant ambience but it was irritatingly noisy at this time of the day. It was peak time and the lounge was filled with students cracking jokes and laughing loudly. If walls had ears, they couldn’t hear what the couple was talking about.
“Are you implying that you are sad he didn’t die a more cruel death? A wronged wife spits more venom than an anaconda, never underestimate a woman,” she quipped.
“For the things he has done, no death is cruel enough. The sad part is that he died without us shattering his empire. Two more years and he would have been behind bars. Now we don’t know who’s in command of the parent syndicate or worse still, it may break down into smaller ones with no controlling authority,” he continued with his gloomy tone.
“What’s wrong with that?” she asked, “Larger organized syndicates pose more threat than smaller ones, if I’m not wrong.”
“Yes, but at the same time it takes much more effort to crack down on every one of those smaller ones than a single group, given the leads we already had. Plus, the main problem with smaller clusters is that once we crack down on a few of them, the rest of them will shrivel into their shells, coming out of their hibernation only after the trails gone cold,” Naren said.
“Right, so now your only hope for a complete sweep is that the heir, whoever he may be, be a capable one. But be careful, you may get more than you ask for and he may end up being too powerful,” Pushpa warned.
Rrringgg…..Naren’s phone was ringing. It was Damodar on the other side.
“Sir,” Naren began in a mocking tone, “Tell me, do what do I have this honour of hosting your call…. ”
“Can it, boy,” Damodar interrupted him,“ and listen, I have a case of a missing boy here whose parents have come to file their complaint. They do not fall in my jurisdiction and I have too many cases on plate right now. I want to really help them. Can I count on you on this one?”
“Sir, yes Sir,” Naren continued in his mocking tone.
“Right, I will text you their address. Go meet them tomorrow. And, one more thing, they are a family depending on daily wages for their food and they can’t afford your fees. Bye,” said Damodar and cut the phone abruptly.
“Is he thinking I am running a charity house here?” Naren asked Pushpa angrily.
“Why? What happened?” she asked.
“My Foot, that’s what,” he seethed,” How can he think he can dump all these pro bono cases on me to ease his conscience. He wants me to investigate the case of a missing boy of a daily wage family. ”
“I didn’t know the person I’m dating is such a selfish person,” she said jeering him.
“Ok Ok. I get it, Mother Teresa, I get it. I’ll take it up, don’t nag. Where were we in the conversation of ours?” he asked trying to take his mind of the uninteresting job waiting for him.
“About the Syndicate’s heir,” she said sipping her coffee,” You want him to be smart and capable. What if you get too much of what you ask?”
“Huh, please! You do know whom you are talking to, right. To beat me, the devil himself has to descend, hahaha”, he said proudly leaving Pushpa wondering if his achievements had gotten to his head, just a tad too much.
**
Chapter-3: The advent of darkness
A huge hall with an enormous round table sitting at the middle, right below a dome shaped glass roof from which the starry sky was visible above, was suddenly teeming with people in suits and cigars hushing their talk in a state of concealed panic.
There were 9 people sitting around the table, and this group represented how filth could organize itself and make good money professionally, retaining their social status. They were the face of the ‘modern criminals’. But this would be an under-statement in the deepest sense because these were not just ordinary criminals. They were the 9 lords of the Underworld each representing one branch of the Syndicate. Of all these persons frantically talking to each other, one person sat all alone, silently observing the herd panicking and laughing to himself internally. It was Mr. Takashi, a Japanese businessman settled in India who dealt and specialized in drug trafficking. He was the most powerful of all the 9 lords.
There was a seat empty right at the helm of the table. It belonged to the tenth person, their former boss, Mr. Singh who had passed away earlier in the evening. This was the reason for the emergency meeting and it was Mr. Takashi who had convened this meeting.
Mr. Takashi felt it was time to start the meeting. He gently took a fork of the table and tapped it on the glass present on the table twice. The hushed murmurings stopped, as all eyes became fixed on Mr. Takashi.
“Gentlemen,” he said softly but firmly, “I’m sure all of you are aware of the tragic occurrence which transpired today. It’s a great loss to all of us in this room, the Syndicate as an organization and all of its affiliations. It’s a day, when we not only lost a leader of great vision, but also a great friend and pioneer. I would have asked us all to observe a few minutes of silence, but that would be against his ideals of non-sentimentalism.”
He paused for a moment to assess his 8-membered audience’s reactions, he continued,” But we have to remember that, the more days we spend in mourning, the more days we squander our energies. That’s not what his spirit will like us to do. At the same time, to fully navigate these troubled waters, we need to have inspired leadership. I seriously recommend we decide upon a leader now, before we move even an inch more without direction.” Having said that he stopped speaking, letting the words soak into their brains.
He knew he wasn’t fooling anyone with his sweet talk. Everyone knew he had serious differences with Mr.Singh when he was alive and that he was always after Mr. Singh’s post as the Head of the Syndicate. With him out of the way there was no one between him and the chair, or so he thought……
“How can you forget about Mr. Singh’s son? He inherits his father’s property AND his chair. How can you rob him of his inheritance,” spoke Mr. Harsh in a harsh manner. Mr. Harsh specialty was prostitution and consequently trafficking of sex workers, mostly women.
It seemed as if Mr. Takasi’s eyes radiated heat for an instant, but before anyone could take a second look he was smiling and said warmly,” The 12-year old boy cannot possibly be expected to shoulder the responsibilities of the global Crime Syndicate.”
Mr. Harsh was not satisfied and could see through his intentions,” Whom do you think you are fooling Takashi. I am leaving this meeting if you become the Head. The discussions will continue only after the boy gets here,” he said.
“Ok, Ok,” said Takashi waving his hands lightly, “See my dear Harsh, I am not as selfish as you make me seem, my dear sir. We will do as you say and reconvene tomorrow.”
*
Takashi was fuming as he sat thinking in his luxurious verandah facing the ocean and the beach. His ice-cold beer was providing no relief whatsoever, it seemed. His assistant came into the verandah and was terrified to see his boss in this mood.
“Boss,” he said feebly.
There wasn’t any response from him. He didn’t want to get beaten by his goons or worse, face a firing squad, for disturbing his boss’s thought flow, having seen his eccentricities first-hand before this. But there was no other alternative. This was a matter of life and death.
“Boss,” he said again a tad more loudly.
“Hmm,” Takashi responded half-mindedly.
“Boss, I had executed the accident exactly as planned. You promised me 100 grand if I pulled it off. I need the money right now, boss. My mother is in hospital and needs to undergo operation immediately for which I need this money.”
“Hmm,” he replied again and this time waved his hand slightly to his bodyguard standing beside him. The bodyguard reached into his pocket, pulled out a stack of money notes and gave it to the timid assistant. He could hardly suppress his surprise at how a mere bodyguard was carrying that much amount in his pockets. His happiness knew no bounds as left the verandah after repeatedly thanking his Boss.
After he left, Takashi said to his bodyguard, “First kill this vermin’s mother, even if she really is in some hospital. She, knowingly or otherwise, was the cause of a waste of 5 minutes of my time. Do it right in front of the vermin’s eyes. Then kill the vermin and throw his body some place unreachable. If someone finds out that he was responsible for Mr. Singh’s’ death then they won’t take much time to connect the dots and see me behind his actions. Before you go, send Ajay in, will you?”
The bodyguard nodded and went on his task. A young man walked in to the verandah after a small while. He was Takashi most trusted and able aide. His name was Ajay. Having risen through the ranks rapidly with his intelligence and cunning, he could outthink almost every strategy, whatever be the context, and it was rumored he was matched only by Takashi himself. He was liked by Takashi because Ajay, like himself, went about his job with no emotion and his success rate was almost 100%, except for that one time…..But now all that didn’t matter. It was time for action and nothing else. The plan was laid and battle lines were drawn.
In the verandah, there were no words exchanged between them. The entire plan was pre-decided. Takashi only gave a small nod to Ajay and he left the hotel to fulfill his task.
The nod set into motion a mysterious downward spiral of events that pushed both the legal and illegal worlds into utter chaos.
*
A mud hut with straw roof was sitting in the middle of innumerous similar huts, all identical to the outsider, but each different to the native. This area was a different world compared to the sky touching towers, housing software companies, sitting beside this slum area. On this day, a crowd could be seen mobbed around one particular hut. Everyone was curiously looking inside the hut to view the person who appeared in ‘pant-shirt’ and was talking to the inhabitants.
Naren was sitting on a stool with a grumpy look, facing Raju’s family. Internally, he was cursing Damodar, for setting up this meeting and himself, for being too simple as to be talked into this mess. ‘What the hell was I thinking?’ He knew that such missing person cases were virtually impossible to solve, especially when it was more than one day old and the trail’s gone cold, like in this case. ‘Typical Definition of a wild goose chase.’
‘Sir, Damodar Sa’ab told that you are our only hope. Our son is missing for 2 days. We don’t know what to do. Please help us,’ the man pleaded.
‘Only hope?!! Nice Going, Damodar. Why did you get their hopes up like that?’
‘Please sir, it has been many days,’ the mother said, trying to fight hard the tears appearing in her eyes. She finally succumbed and whispered silently in a sobbing voice, ‘Sir, What do you think are the chances of finding him?’
‘Ah! Finally, someone is asking the right questions.’
‘You see, madam,’ he said, ‘I don’t know how to put this in a better way but such cases are prevalent in this city. Normally if the child isn’t found in two days, the chances are that he is already smuggled to some ….’ He couldn’t continue speaking as he looked at their faces. They were beyond description. The transition of emotions was visible as he thrashed their only hope. He was lost for words.
After many dreadful minutes of silence interrupted only by the mother’s sobs and the crowd’s hushed discussions, the girl spoke, to everyone’s surprise, “Saab, I’m sorry that in this discussion, we even forgot to offer you buttermilk. The heat is very high and you must have been tired coming here. Would you like some?”
Naren was dumbstruck.
What’s the matter with this girl.
Looking at his surprised look, she said with a smile, “Sir, Whom were we fooling when we hoped we would get Raju back. These dumb people think just because police exist, their woes will be met. They do not know that being human isn’t enough to live a citizen’s life. But I grasped it long ago. If it was some rich family’s kid that was kidnapped, instead of the people staring at us outside, there would be police listening to our complaints. You are a good man who took the effort to travel this distance to listen and sympathize with us. We must thank you, wait, I will get you something to drink.”
Naren felt his intellect slipping him. He was losing grip of his vitals and mind. He could not think properly. He could only remember a set of words told to him by a certain someone when he was 8 years old. ‘You see, Naren, culture is not related to money. In fact, the poorest are the most down-to-earth persons. If you define richness by character and not money, you would have to reverse the conventional definitions.’ He could see only now what he meant by that. The same certain someone had sent him to this place.
He got up with a determined look on his face.” Don’t bring it,” he said,” I will take it only when I return with news of your brother. Don’t give up hope now, madam. The famous Naren is on the case. If there is anyone in this world who can find your son, I can and I won’t rest till I find your son. Don’t worry.”
With that he started taking details of the son’s appearance and his actions just before his disappearance.
Little did he know then, how far this path would lead him in the future!
*
The moon shone bright in the sky. The moonlight glittered over the waters of the lake. The forest surrounding the lake was in total silence except for the nocturnal beings, which were busy in their respective tasks. They were in for a surprise, in the form of an unexpected guest, tonight. This animal was a stranger to these parts of the forest and was thus received with much hostility by the indigenous population. The beavers and the bats looked on strangely at this animal as it stealthily moved along the forest path, noiselessly, with a murderous look in its eyes. They dare not got in its way, because the cruelty and indifference visible in its eyes scared them. ‘Where was this animal moving?’ they wondered. It was heading towards a luxurious den at the far end of the forest. After all, it appeared to the creatures, this animal looked similar to the animals which lived in that den.
The luxurious den was within sight, and the animal stopped.
Noiselessly, in the darkness, Ajay made his way to the villa.
He moved close to the ground with his legs as well as his glove covered hands for support, just like an animal. His movements were steady and constant; though his pace was remarkably low. Any random movements would generate unnecessary noises. He steered clear across the leaves, twigs, fallen branches and puddles of the forest, all of which would produce sounds and reached the road which separated the forest and the walls of the villa’s estate. The security guard, in charge of guarding around the exterior wall, just appeared around the corner and was moving in his direction. He remained crouched under a tree’s shadow on the other side of the road. The guard was whistling and slowly walked to the other corner and disappeared. Based on his walking speed, Ajay estimated that he would take at-least 1 minute to appear at along this side again and moved swiftly on his socks laden feet across the road.5 seconds. He leaped as high he could and pierced the wall with his special knife held in one hand. Once this was firmly in place and supported his weight, he leaned hard on this leaped higher piercing another knife there with his second knife. 10 seconds up. He removed the knife below by applying force against the wall and used this to pierce at a greater height. In this fashion, he moved on, as fast as he could, scaling the 8 meter wall. Being athletic, he was almost a few feet away from the top in 30 seconds, when he heard faint footsteps at the corner.
‘No,’ he thought, ‘this is too early. There must be 2 guards at the outer wall.’ Wasting no time, he quickly made it to the top and he could see the shadow appearing around the corner. There was no time. 2 seconds and he would be caught. If he jumped to the other side, the noise would alarm the guards even if he survived the fall. There was only one way, he gently tipped his weight and he was falling on to the other side, just beside the wall. Now he was out of sight and pierced his knife into the wall to let the friction stop his free-fall. The knife travelled a few millimeters in the direction of gravity before it came to a halt, leaving him suspended at a height of 5 meters from the ground. He frantically searched this side, if anyone could see him. The estate was so full of trees that he was seen only by the owls and the bats. Hanging mid-air by his knife, he listened carefully for the foot-steps to assess if his little gimmick had alerted the guard. The guard’s speed of walking was normal, indicating that he was not alerted. He waited till the guard was out of the audible range and made a 5 meter drop by removing his special knife and rolled on to the ground to avoid any damage. Quickly after landing, he crawled near a tree and observed his surroundings. No-one was around. So far, so good.
He removed his stealth boots and crawled along the ground with his socks on. He kept crawling for what seemed a long time till he reached the edge of the long grass. He could see the villa right in front of him. He stayed there for a whole 10 minutes to observe the positions and movements of the guards. These were pros, but they were located only at the main entrance and for good reason. It was the only entry into the villa. All the remaining sides had no doors or windows, except for the south side. This side had a verandah 18 meters above the ground. Beyond that verandah was the bedroom of the target. Reaching him was impossible, or so the guards thought……
Ajay covered his face with a monkey cap and also put on clothes which had a brick pattern on them to match the wall. This camouflaged his body from the exterior guards whose line of sight could catch him as he made his upward journey. Every such chance had to be eliminated. There was no space for error.
Slowly knife by knife, he moved upwards, scaling the wall with master precision and deftness. Finally he reached the terrace. The doors were open and the curtains were flying because of the wind, something was strange. He slowly put on his night vision equipment and his heart came to his mouth in horror as he looked inside the room. There was a head lying on the bed staring at him. It belonged to the target he was supposed to kill. The body was missing but that was not of prima facie importance. The documents were. He examined the room to look for clues. There was a painting turned upside down along the wall and a safe was visible inside it. He approached it, and carefully, with all his skill, cracked it open. There was a note lying inside. It said, ‘The hunt has just begun. Regards: The Scarlet Knight.’ The documents were gone.
He was about to leave the place, when the door banged open and police rushed in to the room.
“On your knees, Ajay. At-last we caught you,” said the inspector triumphantly. His smile left his face as he saw the head lying on the cushiony mattress. ‘You monster,’ he shouted at Ajay, ‘How could you do it? Where’s the body?’
“I can’t take the credit for this, Inspector, I didn’t do it. This is the handiwork of some freak who calls himself the Scarlet Knight. Look at the note. How did you know I was here anyways?”
“We were tipped by an unknown person who said exactly the name you told me. How did you get hold of this note?” the inspector asked.
Ajay wasn’t listening anymore. He had had it. He was fuming at being tricked by this so called knight. He was not only beaten to the race, but it was as if his every move was pre-anticipated and out-witted. This was his second failure in his life. He couldn’t let this happen. Not again……after all this time.
‘No,’ he thought, ‘something is gravely out of place. This sort of thing cannot happen just like that. Hope, Takashi realizes this before it is too late.’
**