Over the gentle snoring of the boys, Ishtiyaq finished massaging his calves. He had occupied a mattress close to the door of the room. He felt much better now. There was a gentle knock on the door.
“Aa jao.” Ishtiyaq said. A shaken Jorawar sneaked in like a thief.
“The people who sleep here won’t be disturbing you tonight.” He said sheepishly.
“Shukriya Jaorawarbhai.” Ishtiyaq complimented. He knew why Jorawar was here. Jorawar was a native of Darbhanga. He had fled Darbhanga 20 years back after a riot. He was part of a mob that had beaten up a rioter badly. He had died & a warrant had been issued for the suspected members of the mob. Jorawar had run off to Mumbai with a friend. He had worked hard to be in his current position. Given that he had almost no school education, the progress had been good. His parents had died few years back & there was nobody in Darbhanga who would want him back. He was doing alright in Mumbai. He had married & had two sons. He ran the restaurant in question well but the owner was known to be a hot tempered man. So even after having bought a small flat, Jorawar stayed on the edge. He had the habit of checking up on his past. Whether it was guilt or an itch to cover his tracks was debatable but it was a weakness.
The Indian Mujahideen had a sizable network in Bihar, particularly in the area on the Nepal border. One of the operatives had found out about Jorawar & his weakness over a drinking session with his erstwhile blackmailer. The black mailer kept milking Jorawar with the case though it had been relegated to obscurity by the police. The blackmailer had been suitably “convinced” to give him up to the Mujahideen soon after verifying Jorawar’s location in Bhiwandi. From then on, he had been marked as a possible host for all operatives in the Mumbai area. The poor man didn’t even know who was blackmailing him now. Ishtiyaq had not bothered giving Jorawar his name & the boys were under strict instructions not to refer each other by names. All Jorawar knew was that the past could come to haunt him anytime it wished.
Ishtiyaq stood up to face Jorawar.
“Dariye mat Jorawarbhai. I will be gone in the morning. We can’t have you to lose this place, can we?” He smiled again. His hand pressed hard into Jorawar’s oversized shoulder, who smiled through the wincing pain.
***
The night was young. It rarely was otherwise in Mumbai till dawn comes calling. As Hormaz walked by the sea, he could not help wondering at the view. The different colored lights looked as if the land was teeming with stars. There were the small glitters from the residences at Colaba. Other lights that were used by the ships as beacons flanked the dockyard. And he was on the Necklace road which had street lights that curved as you looked at its stretch, the fancy lights on the chowpaty near the Prince of Wales museum & the moving vehicles which had their own. He had used the daylight thoroughly but to no avail. He had been following it up with no less than 5 DGPs of police, the IG of Maharashtra & the NIA. Maharashtra government’s famed ATS was also scrubbing every resource relentlessly for a lead. But nothing had turned up about Ishtiyaq or his plans. Hormaz had been brazen enough to go back to Anees Vilayati for more information. Anees had promised that he was on it as well. Traffic cops had been intimated. As they had the photograph of Ishtiyaq, every cop with a smartphone had been sent one & others had a detailed description. With the entire law enforcement machinery at work, they were bound to find Ishtiyaq. But time was of essence. Would they find him quick enough?
Hormaz rubbed his hands together as he strolled back towards the Air India building. Mumbai was surprisingly cold for this time of the year. There were couples enjoying their walks by the sea unperturbed by anything. Some of them had sat down on the rocks & a few on the concrete embankment. Given their high number, most of them were separated by not more than a meter. He was certain they could hear each other even with the sea waves. But that is how Mumbai worked. Even in the visible & tangible crowding, each person could create his own warm cocoon and imagine that the others would be in theirs. Privacy was a cost of living here. You pay it to the city, to other men & that was the only way for you to get some of it. He was glad that these people didn’t have to worry like him. It was best that they expected the routine of Mumbai to carry on tomorrow as well.
He bought a paper cone full of chana from a seller who looked hardly over a boy. Hormaz watched as the boy picked up a fresh square of newspaper, put a measure of warm peanuts in it & rolled it up in a cone that could be held well. As he paid for it, he remembered something. He hurried back to the Air India building.
From his makeshift office, he called Khan.
“Hello Khan, Hormaz here. Is it ok to talk?” Hormaz queried.
“Absolutely Sir.”
“Is your team on the lookout notification list? Do you receive the communications about immediate terror threats?” Hormaz was quick. There was a long pause at the other end. Hormaz knew what that meant. Even traffic cops were in loop but the economic offenses wing was left out. No doubt the NIA had been looking into the financial details of Ishtiyaq, but these guys may be of help as well. From whatever he had seen of Khan & heard of the inspector who had confronted Anees, these guys looked a sharp bunch.
“No Sir. We are supposed to react to crimes.” The answer an edge to it.
“I am sending you a photograph & description. Please go through it. Take this as a priority to find anything about this man.” Hormaz instructed.
“Yes Sir.” Khan replied.
“And Khan, forward it to every team member of yours.” Hormaz finished.
***
We reached Aurangabad after four more hours. The usual run from Nasik to Aurangabad is around three hours but the Monsoon has washed away huge chunks of tar from the highway. Good rains have laid bare the sub-standard road construction. The bumpy road and the effect of a good meal after his fill of alcohol quickly took Ulhas into the “Pravachan” or sermon mode. Ulhas behaves very much like an all knowing holy man under the “influence”. I have heard lot of similar sermons on nearly every topic under the sun not only from him but from many other friends who somehow open up after a few drinks. I was skeptical of how Bhavna might take it though but she didn’t complain.
So Ulhas explained how the roads in Maharashtra change health according to the party of the local MLA. Those towns, whose representatives are from the ruling party or ruling coalition, get better maintained roads & if your MLA is from the opposition, you should expect badly kept roads, pending drinking water projects & unusually long power cuts. There seems to be a large variety in the elected representatives amongst the towns between Nasik to Aurangabad as the road changes from smooth to ragged to downright gutted within a few kilometers. The same scheme of things also applies to the lamps on the road, Ulhas said. Just like the bumps in the road, the street lights were functional only in patches in spite of the regular poles for them.
The transit was not without other charms though. The blend from evening to night was cool & pleasant till Aurangabad. We stopped for tea at Vaijapur. The tea seemed to be made from basundi! The thick & sweet milk drink is a treat. To have a cup of tea made from it was heavenly. Incidentally, the moon was almost full & put me in a dilemma whether it was a match to the “Chaand” accompanying me. I received a multimedia message & a phone call as we closed on Aurangabad. The message was sent from the mail group that Khan has created for us. The message is a profile of a wanted person. Assuming it to be a Mumbaicentric thing, I didn’t open the message & left it unread. The call was from Manoj.
He has asked us to meet up near Baba petrol pump. I had expected to rest up at the famous Subhedari circuit house for the night but Manoj’s call may change that. As we enter the city through an old looking gate, Ulhas’s “Pravachan” switches track to be about Aurangabad. As I refer to the meeting spot, he describes the square on the Pune-Nagpur highway correctly so I leave it at that. He resumes describing to Bhavana how Aurangabad had 52 “Darwaze” or gates in medieval times and we have just passed one of them. He tells us that during the Mughal conquest of the south, A
urangabad used to be the most populated city in Asia. Ulhas is in particularly fine touch today. The road gets slightly better as the city approaches. The petrol pump is on the left side of the main road traversing through the city & away. Did Manoj choose this on purpose?
My answer awaits me in a traffic police shelter near the petrol pump. Ulhas pulls up behind a Tata Sumo in police stripes parked next to the shelter. It is a 15x8 feet structure made of fabricated iron. Meant for sheltering traffic cops during the hot days or cold nights, today it has regular cops as well. It has plywood for walls & grills of iron for windows. The back however is the wall of the old high court building. The two tube-lights held at the ceiling give it a queer appearance of a cinema box office. God knows the kind of entertainment that comes from a combination of traffic & regular cops is bound to see such a deserted box office. Manoj steps out promptly from the shelter with an assistant. Both are in the uniform. Manoj is around 5’8” with a toned physique. He walks in a manner that could befit an NCC cadet 15 years his junior. His uniform is crisp even at this hour. His assistant whom I have not met before has a good build. He is shorter than Manoj, has a sculpted mustache. His hair is a deep shade of Mehendi. He hurries to match Manoj’s sprightly steps. His uniform is splotched with sweat in arm pits.
I walk up to Manoj after getting down. Bhavna gets down after me. I see Manoj’s smile change to caution as soon as he sees her. I am sure her appearance has stifled really choice welcome words for me.
“Pandurang. How was the drive? What’s with the nose?” He asks as he shakes my hand. Ulhas joins us too. He stretches his back before I can answer.
“Ah, Ulhas too.” Manoj shakes his hand. Manoj’s assistant moves his hand like something that is between a Namaste & a salute. I get the point though.
“This is Dr.Bhavna Desai from the Mumbai police forensics department.” I introduce Bhavna. Manoj smiles warmly and stops himself from commenting on my nose. The assistant gives her an appraising look from head to toe. Then he goes back to the shelter.
“Pandurang, I was planning to pick you up in the morning from Subhedari. But I found something that you wanted so thought it better to meet up right away.” Manoj gets to the point.
“What is it? Do you know who was in the vehicle?” I ask.
“Not yet. But I know who hosted your dead & missing friends while they were here in Aurangabad.” Manoj discloses.
“Who were they?” Ulhas asks.
“There were the three of them. Two boys from Ratnapur, a town around 50 kilometers from here. The third person is an unknown but we can find that out in Ratnapur.” Manoj knows Ulhas is a close friend and holds back nothing. He is asking me to start for Ratnapur right away. Every minute wasted after getting a lead can lay to waste all the energy invested in the investigation. It is the correct thing to do but I have a concern.
“But the vehicle. We need to examine it before tomorrow. Isn’t it?”
“The vehicle is in the custody of the police station at Pimpalgaon near Ratnapur. The owner is from Pimpalgaon. He will wait for a few more hours. And..” Manoj smiles with a pause.
“One of the two boys runs a motor garage in Ratnapur.” He reveals the link that would have forced him to make that phone call. A guy running a motor garage could definitely know his way around locks of a SUV like the Fortuner. I nod at him.
“Shinde, chala.” Manoj shouts at his assistant to start. He comes back running from the shelter.
29
Signal
Kumar was excited. The person assigned to decrypt the content from Achhu’s website had called by evening. The first of the five videos had been cranked out by the CDAC supercomputer Param at Bangalore. Kumar had immediately asked the resource whether he had seen it. The resource was a smart man. He had replied in the negative & had in fact batched instructions to password protect the file as soon as it was decrypted. The password had been generated by an automated program which sent it to Kumar’s email after the file was ready. Kumar had asked him to continue working on the decryption. The videos were the prize catch. He had then downloaded the video to his mobile. Using his email to note the password, he had played the video many times over. By the third playback, he had been smiling. He knew what he wanted to do. And he knew who was going to do it for him. The video was from a CCTV camera that had shot pictures in exceptionally good light & resolution. And unlike most CCTV videos, this one had audio. The big opportunity in Mumbai was finally in his grasp. After formulating his plan, he dialed Signal Sindhi.
Signal Sindhi dealt in secrets. Government, corporate secrets & political secrets were his specialty. He was a fixer on top of his game. It was said that he knew most of the government decisions a day in advance & that he would not offer his services in matters where the money exchanged was under a billion rupees. He had the network to arrange meetings between the seller of the secret and the buyer ready to pay for it. He had a reputation for being a hardnosed negotiator as many a times his customers left the negotiating to him. Needless to say, he charged both parties. His job was to pursue the deal in entirety till both the parties were satisfied. His reputation of a 100% customer satisfaction was well known. It had been developed over his “fixing” exploits of many decades. He had protected his client’s interest even if they were in prison, abroad or dead. And none of the dealt secrets had been leaked. At least by Signal Sindhi.
As far his name went, nobody knew the real one. He was a Sindhi for sure & the “Signal” part had been added because of his operational style. Kumar had been asked to pick him up from the Bandra end signal of the Khar-Bandra sealink. Kumar was driving the SX4 himself as he could not trust the driver. Hormaz had been busy throughout the day & perhaps it was for the best that he had sent Kumar away. Kumar stopped by the signal at exactly 8pm. There was a knock on the passenger side door at 8.05.
“Kumarji?” A sweet sounding voice asked.
“Yes.” Kumar replied.
The man who got inside the car was a surprise. He was wearing a plain white kurta-pyjama. The hair was neatly parted over his forehead. He was clean shaven and had a flat nose. Black horn rimmed spectacles magnified his large eyes. He displayed a smile as if it had been pasted to his lips. He shook hands with Kumar & asked him to take the sea link to Khar. Then he took out a stick that resembled an agarbatti with a glowing end. He waved it around multiple times till he was satisfied. Kumar realized that he was checking the car for electronic bugs. He started talking once they were on the sea link.
“Can I get the video?” The first question didn’t surprise Kumar. He took out a USB flash drive from his pocket & passed it to Signal Sindhi. He held it in his thumb & forefinger.
“Suppose this has what you say it does, then what are your demands?” Straight forward & to the point. Kumar liked that. He was certain that Signal Sindhi & the man who wanted this had checked up on his background. So there was no point holding back.
“I want 50 crores in cash & an IG level post with the government of Maharashtra.” Kumar watched him flash a smile in response.
“Kumarji, I am not sure if I can get you even one of them. And these demands are exaggerated. They can’t be met.” Signal Sindhi said politely.
“I don’t think you have an option. The video shows your client offering business deals to a major terrorism suspect in India. I am the only one who has the evidence as of now. But tomorrow could be a different story.” Kumar kept his cool.
“Come on Kumarji. 50 crores & an IG level post are too much. Let us settle for 5 crores in two installments.” Signal Sindhi offered.
“I don’t have time for negotiations Signal. I am certain you were given a blank cheque for this. I am being reasonable.” Kumar said as they began their descent towards the Khar signal at the end of the sealink.
“Bass Kumarji. I have to get down at this signal. I will get back to you.” He shook Kumar’s hand once more at the signal. Another car with just the driver was waiting for him. As he walked to the other car almost nonch
alantly, Kumar realized that Signal Sidhi did his fixing, his thing between Mumbai’s road signals. It was amongst the most ingenuous & safe ways to meet people & indulge in matters as sensitive as his.
He drove around for half an hour. He called up to check the progress on decryption of the data & once again asked the resource to finish it at the earliest. If his quarry had the sense to engage a troublemaker like him, it may not be long before they found the source of his information. And yes, Kumar conceded to himself that he had underestimated Achhu. The boyish geek had been smarter than his dumb looks. But he was dead. So it was for Kumar to put all that good work to use. He decided to have Jagtap swept digitally daily till this plan was completely executed. That man was sleek enough to go after something like this if he got the faintest hint. And he loved trouble. If it went as Kumar planned, maybe he could make Jagtap’s professional life miserable when he got the post that he was bargaining for. Signal Sindhi called back as promised.
“Kumarji, you can have what you want.” Kumar waited for the “but”.
“But there is one thing.” Signal Sindhi didn’t disappoint Kumar’s intelligence.
“I am listening.” Kumar smiled.
***
I split the team for the two tasks. I asked Bhavna & Ulhas to take Manoj with them to Pimpalgaon. They were to check up on the Fortuner for evidence. Manoj’s presence would allow them to function with minimum interference and maximum cooperation. I was to go with Shinde to Ratnapur and find out everything about the three persons who had met Achhu & Sumit while they visited Aurangabad. Shinde was from the same town. Though posted at Aurangabad, he had been with the Ratnapur police station for five years. Manoj had obviously chosen him for the local experience but I had my doubts about how we would get along.
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