by Piyush Jha
Virkar, dressed in a smart shirt and trousers that made him look less like a policeman and more like a mid-rung corporate climber, was standing across the road from the shiny glass multi-story building which housed Dixitel’s global headquarters in the Bandra Kurla Complex. In his head, Virkar had been toying with various ideas that would help him get to the eighteenth-floor office of Vasant Dixit. Ultimately, he had settled upon using his own version of the haaka.
Taking a deep breath, he walked into the shining marble lobby and went straight to the large reception area that was stylishly placed right in the centre of the lobby.
‘I’d like to meet Mr Vasant Dixit, please,’ he told the smart young receptionist.
The woman looked him up and down and said, ‘Mr Dixit is busy. Is there anyone else I could connect you with?’
Virkar nodded. ‘You could connect me to his personal secretary.’
The receptionist flashed him a tiny smile. ‘Sure, let me just check. And may I know where you’ve come from?’
‘I’ve come from the Christian Cemetery in Khandala. I have a message for Mr Dixit from one of its occupants,’ said Virkar.
The receptionist looked at him quizzically. She punched some number on the console in front of her and spoke into the telephone in an undertone. Cupping her hand on the receiver, she looked at Virkar. ‘May I know what your message is?’ Virkar cracked an enigmatic smile. ‘It’s only for Mr Dixit’s ears.’ The receptionist rolled her eyes and repeated Virkar’s words to the person on the other end of the line. She replaced the receiver and motioned Virkar towards the lift on the far side of the lobby. ‘Please take the lift to the eighteenth floor. Mr Dixit’s personal assistant will meet you there,’ she said.
Virkar smiled to himself as he went through the security check before taking the lift. It seemed he had misjudged the situation. The man he had thought to be a tiger had turned out to be a jackal. Virkar rode the lift to the eighteenth floor and was greeted right outside the lift by a young, suited, Parsi man who looked as if he had just stepped out of a Page 3 party. ‘I’m Hozi Sethna, Mr Dixit’s personal assistant. And I didn’t catch your name?’
‘My name is not important,’ said Virkar, ‘where I’ve come from, is.’
‘Right. And you’ve come from some Christian cemetery in Khandala, and you have a message for Mr Dixit?’
‘Yes,’ said Virkar.
‘Okay, so what is the message?’
‘The message is only for Mr Dixit.’
‘Look, Mr Cemetary, Mr Dixit is busy. Give me the message and I’ll make sure it reaches him.’
‘This is too personal.’
Sethna gave Virkar a condescending smile. ‘I know all the personal details of Mr Dixit.’
‘Do you know about his sexual fetishes too?’ asked Virkar nonchalantly. ‘Then I don’t have a problem telling you. But if you don’t, better get me to him fast. I’m busy too, so don’t waste my time.’
Hozi Sethna’s creamy skin turned red. He excused himself and walked away, letting Virkar stand by himself next to the lift. Five minutes later, he was back with two huge men dressed in dark safari suits. The two safari-suited men fell in step on either side of Virkar.
Hozi Sethna looked at the man in the safari suit on Virkar’s left. The look was enough for the man to clamp down a heavy hand on Virkar’s shoulder. Virkar realized that he had just a few seconds left. Suddenly he sat down on his haunches, breaking free from the man’s grasp. Swivelling, Virkar jabbed out with his right hand. His knuckles connected with the safari-suited man’s testicles. A strangled sound escaped the man’s lips as he crashed down to his knees, holding his prized possessions. Safari suit number two had by now unleashed a kick towards the crouched Virkar. The kick was intended to connect with Virkar’s jaw, but Virkar had anticipated this. He thrust his hand upwards, connecting with the man’s calf and using the momentum of the kick to push the leg further along its path till it went past his chin. Finding nothing to connect with, the kick shot out in the blank air, making Safari suit number two lose his balance. His other leg, too, flew out from under him and with a thud, he landed on his backside. Virkar knew that he would spring up in no time, so before the fallen man could gather himself, Virkar stabbed Safari suit number two’s throat with his right knee.
Leaving Safari suit number two gagging on the floor next to his colleague, Virkar stood up and faced a cringing Hozi Sethna. ‘I know that Vasant Dixit paid off Colasco, Akurle and Bhandari. He’s the next target of the Compass Box Killer. Tell him that I know of a way that can save him.’
Hozi Sethna stood frozen, but before Virkar could say anything else, a door to his right burst open and half a dozen similar-looking, safari-suited men rushed towards him. Virkar knew he was outnumbered. In a menacing tone, he said, ‘If they touch me, I’ll…’
He did not have to complete his sentence. Hozi Sethna raised his hand and the safari-suited men stopped in their tracks. ‘Please escort him outside this building politely. And make sure he never comes back,’ he said, betraying no emotion. The safari-suited men fell in double formation around and behind Virkar, forcing him to walk out of the office towards the elevator. As he rode down the elevator to the lobby surrounded by the guards, Virkar smiled to himself. An amusing phrase popped into his head: ‘Haaka laga dhandhe pe, sher aaya phande mein.’ His strategy was working; the quarry had walked into the trap.
42
‘In Breaking News today, we bring to you one of the most bizarre acts of police intimidation ever seen,’ Raashi’s voice speaking in her familiar shrill tones pierced through Virkar’s thoughts, snapping him to attention.
He had been lying on the sofa in front of his television, flipping through channels as he passed the time. After he had left the Dixitel headquarters, the first thing he did was to call Raashi’s mobile phone. When she hadn’t answered, he had sent her a text, asking her to call him back. Making his way back to his office, he had shuffled papers on his desk, pretending to be busy while, in fact, his mind was racing, thinking of every possible outcome of his move to buttonhole Vasant Dixit. As evening came around, he made his way back to his quarters. There he showered and then sat down in front of the television. As 9.00 p.m. drew close, he switched to the CrimeNews Channel for the prime time news update.
Now he stared stonily as Raashi’s sombre face appeared on the screen. ‘Crime Branch Officer, Inspector Virkar, today assaulted two personal bodyguards of respected industrialist Vasant Dixit.’ The screen cut to grainy CCTV footage showing Virkar attacking the two safari-suited security men in Dixitel’s office. Raashi’s voice continued to speak over the visuals. ‘Sometime earlier this morning, Inspector Virkar, who has clearly become unstable after he was removed from the Compass Box Killer case, entered the headquarters of Dixitel and demanded ten lakh rupees to settle a drummed-up case connected to Mr Vasant Dixit’s Khandala bungalow.’
On the screen, Virkar could see himself in the lobby of Dixitel’s headquarters talking to the receptionist. His voice was muffled and the only words that were clear were ‘from…Khandala…occupants there.’ A concerned-looking Raashi came back on the screen. ‘Inspector Virkar was invited up to meet Mr Dixit’s personal assistant to sort out the misunderstanding. Once there, he assaulted Mr Dixit’s personal bodyguards. Had it not been for the restraint shown by Mr Hozi Sethna, Mr Dixit’s P.A., his bodyguards would surely have retaliated. But, in an attempt to avoid any embarrassment to the Mumbai police, Mr Sethna patiently asked his guards to escort Inspector Virkar out of his premises.’
The screen cut to grainy footage of Hozi Sethna asking his guards to politely walk Virkar out of the building. Raashi, now back on the screen, dealt the final blow. ‘Are the authorities going to take note of this kind of behaviour? If important people like Mr Vasant Dixit can be treated with such disdain, what can we expect for the common man? Where does he stand? We posed this question to both the Home Minister and the Police Commissioner, but they remained unavailable for comment. We sh
all wait for them to become available. And if they don’t, we will go to their houses and demand an answer.’
Virkar smiled to himself. He had been expecting this. The previous day, while researching Vasant Dixit’s background on the Internet, he had come across a news item that had detailed all his holdings and properties. Along with the fact that he owned a palatial bungalow in Khandala, there was also a small mention of the fact that Vasant Dixit was a non-active majority stakeholder of a broadcast company that owned a bouquet of channels. One of them happened to be CrimeNews Channel.
As soon as he came to know this fact, he had made the connection. He had realized that Raashi had been playing him all along—at Vasant Dixit’s behest. She had met him at the Sunny Bar to try and find out how much he knew, but by mistake had let slip Smooth Operator’s connection to the Sade video. To rectify her mistake, she had followed Virkar to Khandala to find out what he was up to. As he got closer to the truth, she had enticed him into opening up to her completely so that he would take her along with him to Belgaum. He felt specially cheated by the way she had made the Hari Prasad story public to draw away attention from the Smooth Operator. Virkar had grown suspicious immediately, but she had distracted him once again—although not enough to put all his doubts to rest.
Virkar lay back on the sofa. After watching Raashi’s show, the huge weight of his suspicions having been confirmed finally hit him smack on his chest. The sting of the betrayal rose within him and made its way to his eyes. But Virkar fought back. In an attempt to sweep aside the anger and hurt, he focused on how foolish he had been. He had let his guard down and let himself be manipulated. He had allowed Raashi to exploit his vulnerability. She had realized that, apart from the physical intimacy, he also needed the companionship that she had begun to provide. He had been fooled into believing, at least for a while, that her reciprocation was real—something that normally would not have happened had it not been for the fact that Raashi had made him…feel. She had made him feel his emotions and his loneliness.
The shrill ring of his mobile phone disturbed his thoughts. Virkar took the call, only to hear a terse command from ACP Wagh.
‘Report to the Additional Commissioner’s office tomorrow at 9.00 a.m.’
43
She was waiting for him in the corridor, pretending to be deep in conversation with a senior police officer that Virkar didn’t know.
He had just finished meeting with the Additional Commissioner of Police, Abhinav Kumar, and was headed down the corridor, mulling over his next course of action. Abhinav Kumar had informed him that Vasant Dixit was slapping a hundred crore rupees defamation suit on the police department because of Virkar’s actions. Virkar had quickly examined all future courses of action and realized that not only was his current position in the Crime Branch threatened, but his entire career had come under a cloud. He had expressed his regrets for putting the police department in such a situation and sought permission to personally apologize to Vasant Dixit and request him to withdraw the defamation case. Although his suggestion was unorthodox, Abhinav Kumar had agreed to arrange a meeting so that Virkar could tender his formal apology and request Dixit to withdraw the case and save the police department the bad publicity.
Out in the corridor, he came upon Raashi so suddenly that he didn’t have any time to react, let alone to take any evasive action to avoid her. He was forced to stop in front of her as she was blocking the corridor, purposely placing herself in such a position that it would seem very odd if he were to walk around her without acknowledging her at all.
‘Hello,’ he said, as non-committal as ever.
‘Hi, Virkar,’ she said, breaking into a broad, toothy smile. The senior police officer with her looked at Virkar and realized that his time with her was up and he should move on, giving way to his junior.
For a few seconds they stood awkwardly together, trying to avoid any eye contact. It was Raashi who, as usual, broke the silence.
‘Why haven’t you been answering my calls?’
Virkar replied with a dry grunt of laughter. Raashi didn’t react but continued, ‘I have some explaining to do.’
Virkar’s laugh grew sharp, now mixed with a hint of sarcasm. Raashi spoke in a tone that sounded hopeful: ‘I know I’ve said this to you before, but you have to understand. It’s not personal.’
‘Oh, yes, it is!’ exploded Virkar, speaking for the first time. Letting the sarcasm flow into his voice, he said, ‘It’s all for your personal growth.’
Raashi’s dilated pupils contracted a little in response to this statement, but the hopeful twinkle refused to lose its sparkle. ‘I’m an ambitious woman. Surely you understand that?’
Virkar retorted, ‘Correction. You’re a cut-throat ambitious woman and I do understand that.’
‘I’m as cut-throat as you are, Virkar,’ said Raashi, her tone now matter-of-fact. ‘Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t do anything to further your career. You’re desperate to catch the Compass Box Killer and the Smooth Operator so that you win a medal…or get a promotion. Isn’t that right?’
Virkar looked surprised. ‘Is that what you think I’ve been doing all this time?’
Raashi was unmoved. ‘Why else? I can see no other reason.’
Virkar spoke through clenched teeth, ‘Maybe I still believe in the triumph of good over evil. That there is a right and a wrong—’
Raashi cut him off. ‘Oh, come now, Virkar, let’s go home to my place. I’ll listen to your bhaashan between my bedsheets.’
Virkar’s dry laugh was back again. Only this time, it was accompanied by a vigorous shake of his head as if he was desperately trying to dislodge the incredulous feeling that was stuck between his ears. ‘You will go far, very far, without ever looking back,’ he said, finally.
Raashi didn’t say anything; she just stared at Virkar, her face hardening. Virkar turned to go, but then, as if he had remembered something, he turned back. Looking directly into Raashi’s eyes, he said, ‘Well, maybe you’ll look back some day on your way down, only to see the bodies of the people that you have trampled over on your journey upwards. But isn’t it a sad thing that they all would be lying by the wayside and there would be no one to catch you when you’re falling?’
Raashi stood silent, a glazed look in her eyes. Virkar finally turned and walked away from her. He could feel her eyes boring holes into his back as he walked down the corridor.
Stepping around the corner, he quickly cut across the compound and walked towards an unmarked, white, windowless van parked on the far corner. Casting furtive glances all around to make sure that he wasn’t being watched, he knocked on the side panel of the van. The panel slid open to show an array of digital recording equipment that was arranged on a counter inside. Two men wearing headphones sat on tiny stools working on the dials and knobs of the equipment. Virkar stepped inside and the panel slid shut behind him.
Across the compound, Raashi watched the van from a position behind a pillar in the corridor. A few seconds later, she turned around and receded down the corridor in the opposite direction.
44
‘There will be a white, windowless van positioned somewhere close by that will be recording everything you say,’ she said.
Vasant Dixit laughed his throaty, sexy laugh. ‘How old school is that? That kind of surveillance went away along with the nineties.’
Raashi shrugged. ‘What can you expect? The Mumbai police don’t have the budget to keep up with the times.’
Vasant Dixit smiled. ‘Sweetheart, even if they had the budget, they couldn’t compete with me. I mean…my company supplies them with surveillance equipment, for God’s sake. How foolish is that guy?’
Raashi shrugged again. ‘He is the biggest fool of them all.’ They were sitting in a glass-fronted room of Vasant Dixit’s Madh Island bungalow that overlooked the flat expanse of Dana Pani Beach.
Madh Island is not really an island but a cluster of old-world fishing villages and farmlands nestled cozily on the no
rthwest shoreline of suburban Mumbai. Lavish bungalows owned by members of the upper echelons of Mumbai line its serene beaches. It can be accessed by road via the Mumbai suburb of Malad or by taking a ferry across from the fishing village in Versova. However, due to its proximity and an impressive multiple-beach shoreline, it is favoured by all stratas as a picnic destination. The super-rich organize private parties in their lavish, landscaped bungalows while the not so well-heeled rent out beachfront shacks by the hour and engage in wanton drinking, dancing and frolicking on the seashore.
Vasant Dixit’s massive, super-posh bungalow across the flat Dana Pani Beach was sprawled across five acres of the sloping hilly land facing west. Perched on a flat piece of land in the middle of the slope, the bungalow housed seven sea-facing bedrooms, a ballroom-sized living room, a swimming pool and a tennis court. Right outside the massive front door, two huge party lawns had been carved out of the slope and extended like giant green steps down to the ten-foot-high boundary wall that surrounded the property and touched the road running along the beach. Behind the bungalow, to the east, the hilly portion of the land sloped up through a wooded area all the way up to the main road that ran through the island. Three steel TV towers stood like sentinels on three corners of the bungalow walls, and in the fourth corner to the south, a massive rock face rose out of the hill and completed the fortress-like picture of the bungalow. Large steps had been carved into the rock face leading to a flat, bald tabletop outcrop that was the highest beachfront point on Madh Island. The view from the outcrop was magnificent as directly across it lay the sparkling blue sea. On a clear day, one could see all the way to Uttan Lighthouse in the north and Prong’s Lighthouse in Colaba, the southernmost tip of Mumbai.
‘You’ve done well, babes,’ smiled Vasant Dixit, trailing his index finger along her cheek. ‘You’re on the fast track. Just make sure that you keep your eyes on your goal. At all times.’