‘I can’t believe this.’ Pankaj Todi shakes his head over the newspaper in his opulent dining room the next morning. ‘General Mehra? Such a great man! A hero! How little we know our closest friends!’
Bambi, who is pretty shaken by the article herself, is finding this reaction of her father intensely irritating.
She looks up and says coolly, ‘Well, you knew he’s a bit of a predator as far as women concerned. And you knew he’d killed people in hand-to-hand combat – he tells that Behra Mehra story to anybody who will listen! If you put those two things together, then this seems fairly logical.’
Todi stares at her in disbelief. ‘Those are entirely different things, beta! Killing enemy soldiers during a war—’
‘Killing is killing,’ she says harshly. ‘Let’s not kid ourselves.’
‘And what d’you expect the man to do when his wife is too unwell to have physical relations with him?’
‘Cheating is cheating,’ she concludes firmly.
She looks at her father with decidedly judgemental eyes. He lowers his own hastily and reaches for a toast.
‘Perhaps you are right,’ he admits. ‘In which case,’ he continues thoughtfully, ‘we should probably distance ourselves from this man. His good days are clearly over.’
If he’d been hoping to placate his daughter with this statement, he’s in for a big disappointment. Bambi lets out an angry exclamation.
‘Typical! When people’s good days end we should discard them as if they’re past-their-expiry-date vegetables!’ Her voice is trembling as she attacks her bowl of diced papaya savagely. ‘Like you’re doing with Mammu?’
Pankaj Todi purses his fleshy lips worriedly. ‘I have not discarded your Mammu, beta. Our relationship has merely changed a little – I may soon cease to be her husband, but I will always be her provider, friend and well-wis—’
‘Oh please!’ She fidgets with her fork agitatedly. ‘You call Mehra uncle your friend, you invite him to all your parties – when the surgical strikes happened, you boasted to everybody that he was your buddy! And now you want to drop him! Why?’
Todi’s liquid eyes harden. ‘Because now I realize that though he appears strong on the surface, he is weak! The way he allowed himself to be pressurized – by that same bloody thug who pressurized you, don’t forget – is utterly disgraceful! There’s no mention of that orphanage in this article, though. I am going to sue those bastards and get our money back.’
‘What?’ Bambi is appalled. ‘You can’t do that! The children must’ve been so happy with the money! It went from the company’s CSR account. And that nice Father Victor didn’t know that Leo was blackmailing people!’
Pankaj Todi stares at his daughter in disbelief. ‘Obviously that Father Victor must have known! And just calling yourself father-father, and wearing a white robe doesn’t make you holy! The two of them are childhood friends – the orphanage is obviously only a front – a money laundering scheme! But don’t worry – now that this case had become so high profile, they’ll panic and cough up our money quietly enough.’
He goes back to reading. Bambi glares at the raised newspaper in frustration for a while, then slowly goes back to eating her papaya.
Pankaj Todi rereads the article. It is accompanied by two photographs. One of the general looking very smart in his full army regalia, and one of Ganga and her husband on their wedding day. She looks thin and sallow and weighed down by her finery, but the husband seems to be revelling in his, his French beard perfectly manicured, his teeth flashing in a wide smile.
‘It’s really so sad.’ Pankaj Todi sighs. ‘A man with such great distinguished accomplishments, bought down by a weak obsession for a young woman. And what a young woman!’
Bambi puts down her fork and looks up. ‘What d’you mean?’ There is a dangerous edge to her voice.
Todi lowers his paper warily. ‘Hmm? Matlab ki she is not exactly a Playboy centrefold, is she? Just an ordinary sort of girl.’
His daughter glares at him in disgust. ‘And if she did look like a Playboy centrefold? Would it have been okay to kill two people to get with her?’
Pankaj Todi spreads out his hands. ‘Bambi, don’t be difficult. That’s not what I meant!’
Bambi points her fork at him. ‘Ganga is a good, clean sensible girl – and she isn’t having an affair with Mehra uncle!’
‘I really think you should stop calling him Mehra uncle now,’ her father says firmly. ‘And please distance yourself from him at once. No more playing doubles tennis with him!’
Her eyes widen in disbelief. ‘You play doubles tennis with him too!’
‘I used to, but I won’t any more,’ he replies, looking harassed. ‘In fact this is all your fault – you believed that sly Ganga’s stories when she came up to you three years ago, even though your mother and I told you she was talking rubbish! If you hadn’t got her that Daily Needs franchise at the Club in the first place, none of this would have happened!’
‘Oh my God!’ Bambi pushes back her chair violently and gets to her feet. ‘Everything is always the woman’s fault according to you! You make me sick.’
‘Bambi—’
But Bambi has already stalked out of the room.
It takes her precisely seven minutes to walk across the road to the Daily Needs store inside the DTC, where Ganga is taking care of an unusually large number of customers all at once, including, Bambi notes savagely, Pia and Dia, two members of the Ghia-Lauki gang.
Bloody cows! They’re shopping for nothing but gossip – they wouldn’t be seen dead anywhere except at DLF Emporio and La Marche and Nature’s Basket!
They’ve walked into one of the many aisles of the store, whispering and giggling.
‘Babe, look, how strange, did you know there are Indian brands of sunblock too? Here’s something called Lotus!’
‘Chhee, such tacky packaging! And here’s a foundation called MACK, with a K! And it’s only two hundred rupees! Might as well be called MUCK!’
They both laugh.
‘Ohmuhgawd, Indian cream cheese! Haw, such wannabe Philadelphia packaging! Ideal for dips and cheesecakes, it says. Should I pick it up?’
‘Why not – if it’s ghast, just give it to your maids.’
Bambi’s lips tighten. She marches over to the girls and yanks their trolley away.
‘Niklo. Git. Now.’
Their eyes widen. ‘Excuse me?’
‘You heard me,’ Bambi replies, her eyes glittering with anger. ‘The stuff you’re after isn’t available here – so leave now and things will stay pleasant.’
They exchange looks, then turn back to face her.
‘Babe, relax, we just thought we’d shop here for a few weeks because poor Ganga’s going through such a hard time currently! She needs the business, and we need the uh … cream cheese. It’s really none of your biz, Bambi Todi.’
‘Is anybody else waiting for service?’ Ganga’s voice speaks up pleasantly, in her slightly halting English. ‘Do come up to the counter. I’m free now.’
Snatching back their trolley, Pia and Dia move triumphantly to the front of the store. Bambi grabs a packet of sanitary napkins and follows them, glowering at them as they hand over their cards, daring them to utter a word out of place to Ganga.
‘How are you?’ Pia asks.
‘Well,’ Ganga replies serenely.
‘You must be so worried about Mehra uncle,’ ventures Dia.
Ganga smiles blandly. ‘Aren’t we all?’
They nod uncertainly wondering how to proceed. Just then, a tall shadow darkens the doorway and all the women turn around.
Inspector Padam Kumar is standing there, his cherubic face grim.
Pia and Dia gasp in horrified pleasure. Bambi, noticing with a sinking heart that there is a female constable accompanying Padam, moves forward to stand in front of Ganga protectively.
‘Whuh … what
do you want, inspector?’
‘I want Ms Ganga,’ Padam Kumar replies steadily. ‘For questioning.’
He nods at the constable, who steps forward, walks around Bambi and inclines her head at the pale-faced girl in the cream sari.
‘Please come with me.’
12
The Ghia-Lauki Gang
TRANSCRIPT OF A RECORDED STATEMENT BY GANGA KUMAR.
‘Your name is Ganga Kumar?’
‘Yes.’
‘Age?’
‘Twenty-three.’
‘Are you married?’
‘Yes, I am married. My husband has abandoned me several times, but as far as I know, he is still alive.’
‘When did he contact you last?’
‘Two years ago. He wanted me to PayTM him some money. I refused.’
‘Who got you this job at the DTC.’
‘Bambi didi. Bambi Todi.’
‘How did you meet her?’
‘She was looking for a maid. She interviewed me for the job, but when she found out I had such good marks in class twelve, she said I was too smart to work as a domestic. She also noticed that I was badly bruised, as my husband was abusive. So she got me this job – to manage the Daily Needs store at the Club.’
‘And where did you meet Gen. Mehra?’
‘At the Daily Needs store. His wife was very unwell so he used to do his shopping himself. She used to give him a list. He was always very confused about the items on his list, so I started helping him.’
‘Did he ever meet your husband?’
‘Did he ever meet your husband?’
‘Please answer the question. Did he ever meet your husband?’
‘Yes.’
‘We have here, a record of a police complaint made against your husband by Gen. Mehra, which states that your husband had beaten you, and when Gen. Mehra tried to stop him, he had assaulted Gen. Mehra too?’
‘That happened almost three years ago. Ajay suspected me of having an affair with a rich man and attacked me, and I phoned Gen. Mehra to say I was in fear of my life.’
‘Why phone Gen. Mehra? Why not phone your family – or Bambi didi, who had been so kind and got you a job?’
‘I don’t know. I must’ve thought … that the general would look scarier to Ajay than Bambi didi! He is a war hero after all!’
‘Yes he was. In fact, is it normal for such a senior, well-known, successful man to be on such close terms with a young woman from his provisions store?’
‘It felt extremely normal to me. If you knew the general well, you would never ask such a question!’
‘Ganga Kumar, are you having sexual relations with Gen. Mehra?’
‘I most certainly am not! He is like a father to me!’
‘Why did your husband, on the night before he disappeared, accuse you of having an affair with the general?’
‘Because he was a sick man, with a filthy, suspicious mind – just like yours!’
‘Why do you still continue to wear a mangalsutra?’
‘I wear it because my father paid for it – not my husband. My husband paid for nothing during the wedding. I wear it because it makes me look respectable and because it stops horny men from making passes at me!’
‘What about the rumour that it was given to you, in secret, not by Ajay Kumar at your wedding, but two years later, by Gen. Mehra?’
‘That is absolutely untrue!’
end of interview.
‘You’ve potted a big one this time, Bhavani!’
The chief’s voice is bluff and congratulatory.
Bhavani’s reply is glum. ‘We haven’t potted anything, sir. That article should never have been published. We still don’t know who leaked the information!’
The chief’s voice alters slightly. ‘Oh, agreed. That article definitely jumped the gun slightly – ha ha, jumped the gun, that’s funny.’
The smile Bhavani dredges to his lips in response to this sally is so constipatedly perfunctory that the chief purses
his lips.
‘Something worrying you, ACP? Care to explain why you’re suspicious of Inspector Padam Kumar’s prized discovery?’
Bhavani sighs gustily, his homely face deeply unhappy. He rakes his large square hands through his hair, making it look crazily rumpled and leans forward.
‘That gun feels … wrong, sir,’ he says earnestly. ‘Somehow, we feel like somebody is forcing our hand, and leading us up the garden path, first by the discovery of this gun, and then, by the quick publishing of this article.’
The chief sighs. ‘What feels wrong about the gun, Bhavani?’
‘Sir, even forensics admits, after we questioned them thoroughly—’
The chief pulls back. ‘Bhavani, you’ve been bullying them.’
‘—that it could be artificially aged, and hasn’t really spent three years at the bottom of a composting pit!’
‘Yes, but it could very well have been in there for three years too, right?’
A sheepish look settles on Bhavani’s features. ‘Yes, sir,’ he admits, sitting back.
‘So your pet theory is that somebody planted the gun on the crime scene after the corpse was discovered?’
‘Yes, sir!’ Bhavani sits forward eagerly. ‘It’s a highly porous location, sir! People walking up and down all day. Somebody is trying to scapegoat the general! We’re sure of it!’
The chief shakes his head. ‘I think you’re trying to complicate what seems to be quite a simple case. Or else you’re a fan of Gen. Mehra’s.’
‘No, sir.’
‘What d’you mean no sir, dammit!’
Bhavani looks slightly surprised. ‘We mean we’re not trying to complicate a simple case. And we’re not a fan of Gen. Mehra. Personally, we think the surgical strikes were highly exaggerated.’
‘Keep your voice down,’ the chief growls. ‘And tell me quickly – who do you suspect?’
Bhavani perks up.
‘We have some theories, sir. Guppie Ram said the person whom he helped that night accorded him ‘Love … and dosti – and equal-equal trust. Somehow, we can’t see Gen. Mehra doing that, he’s too full of himself, but in spite of all her wealth and elegance, we can see Urvashi Khurana pulling it off.’
‘What about that Aggarwal woman?’
Bhavani ponders. ‘She could do it too. Not as well as Urvashi Khurana, but she could.’
‘That’s weak, Bhavani. Very weak.’
The ACP doesn’t reply. Various bit and pieces of information and conversation are floating through his mind.
Wait for me. The A to your B
I’m a straightforward man – if I ever wanted to finish off a fellow, I would shoot him in the chest, while looking him in the eye!
There was an eye looking at me. Through the wall.
A much bigger rainwater-harvesting plant – she’s obsessed with it!
We think he may have been wearing some sort of costume jewellery – there’s the crushed remains of some sort of blue stone in the mud that came with him.
My son … has some … problems. And when your child has problems, you try to bribe the Gods, so that these problems will go aw—
‘Look Bhavani,’ the chief interrupts his musings. ‘I’m under a lot of pressure from the top on this. The lurid media coverage hasn’t helped. So please do something! Thoda zor lagao. Strain a little harder, and arrest somebody fast.’
Bhavani’s face grows stubborn. ‘We don’t believe in straining, sir,’ he says stolidly. ‘Straining gives you haemorrhoids not results.’
‘Oh really,’ the chief’s voice drips with sarcasm. ‘Well, you’re going to have to take a few health risks in the next few days, in that case. I can’t buy you much time.’
Bhavani’s face clears up at once. He beams at his superior. ‘Thank you, sir!’
‘Theek hai, theek hai,�
�� the chief waves away this effusive response. ‘Might I ask what you plan to do next?’
‘Of course, sir. Our most immediate plan is to send vakeel Akash Dogra and Bambi ji to a TVVS party.’
‘Can you imagine, Papa humay Disneyland le ja rahen hai!’ Kalra’s voice is delirious with joy. ‘After all these years! I can’t believe it!’
‘Shut up, Kalra,’ Kashi says gruffly. ‘Act like a grown-up please.’
‘But I can’t, Dogra.’ Kalra, dressed in a white polo tee and denim Bermudas shakes his head dreamily. ‘This drive to Chhatarpur has reactivated all my randiest thirteen-year-old fantasies. That’s why we friended this fucker in class seven, isn’t it, Walli?’
‘Correct!’ Walli, in his tightest red shirt and partying black pants, rubs his hands together with glee. ‘We were two hopeful young small-town chomus, and Dogra was the Delhi buoy who was gonna invite us over in the summer and take us to farmhouse parties with swimming pools full of hot TVVS chicks! It’s taken twelve years but he’s finally opened the gates to hook-up paradise!’
Kashi, sitting between his friends in his cleanest vee-neck navy-blue tee, turns to give them a dirty look each.
‘I’m not your fucking pimp, guys. These girls are my childhood friends – and remember, you’re technically gate-crashers—’
‘Balls! We heard Sia on the phone! She said’ – Walli puts on a cooing ‘female’ voice – ‘“Bring along some hot Doscos, Kashi!”’
Kashi glares at him, ‘She said that as the merest formality! Secondly, remember, it’s not just a party – we’re doing this at ACP Bhavani’s instructions—’
‘We’re doing this to protect Bannerjee’s interests,’ Kalra says piously, ‘You’ve been using these recent unfortunate deaths to get close to Bambu Todi again—’
‘Yeah, what kind of sicko cuddles up to his ex at funerals?’ Walli chimes in. ‘Not cool, Dogra!’
‘So we’re tagging along to make sure things don’t get too hot and heavy! This is not a pleasure trip for us – we’re sort of on-duty only!’
Kashi glares at the grinning pair at a total loss for words, then sits back.
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