Veerappan: Chasing the Brigand
Page 18
Puttananja ushered the stranger into the portico of the farmhouse, located on the fringes of the forest. ‘Sir is busy on the phone. Wait here.’
But the stranger scampered towards the gate and waved at somebody on the road. Within minutes, eight gun-wielding men in olive green fatigues stormed into the farmhouse. Sensing trouble, Puttananja bolted the front door, then took cover in the anteroom and fired.
But his resistance was futile. The men fired at the lock, smashing it and then bolted the anteroom from outside, trapping the gunman.
Veerappan smiled as he surveyed his captives. Apart from Nagappa, his wife Parimala, daughter Priyanka, grandson Sabaan, personal secretary Shivumurthy, driver Mahadevaswamy and an aide were present. He ignored them all and pointed his gun at Nagappa.
‘Let’s go,’ he said.
Parimala began pleading for Nagappa, pointing out that he was diabetic and would not be able to survive in the forest.
Veerappan and his men ignored her and marched off with the sixty-six-year-old barefoot Nagappa. The family rushed to the neighbouring village to seek help. Soon, word got out.
A little over two years after the abduction of Rajkumar, Veerappan had once again taken a high-profile hostage.
About 2 km from the man’s home, Veerappan stopped at the gate of another farmhouse. As the owner came out, he was shocked to find Nagappa sitting outside the gate, surrounded by armed men.
‘Give him some slippers,’ said Veerappan.
The man hastily removed his own slippers and handed them to Nagappa.
Veerappan then handed over a cassette. ‘Give it to Mrs Nagappa. Tell her not to worry. I will release her husband after a few days,’ he said.
The tape was for the Karnataka government and reiterated Veerappan’s long-standing demands, which included the release of Tamil politicians Kolathur Mani and Pazha Nedumaran—both of whom had played a key role in Dr Rajkumar’s release—from police custody and a reminder on the pending statue of the poet Thiruvalluvar in Bengaluru.
Veerappan signalled his men and they headed towards the Burude forest range.
Later that night at around 12.30 a.m., a few armed men stopped a private bus around 20 km from Kollegal. Two of them climbed onto the bus and asked the weary passengers to disembark. As they stepped off, Veerappan and his remaining men emerged along with Nagappa from a field where they had been hiding.
While the women gawked, the male passengers rushed to shake hands with the notorious bandit. Some were terrified but Veerappan was quick to reassure, ‘Don’t worry. You won’t be harmed. The bus will be sent back once my work is done.’
About half a kilometre from the spot of the hijack, the gang saw an approaching jeep. ‘Could be the STF. Stop here,’ Veerappan ordered the driver.
The bandits quickly got off the bus and melted into the forest.
After that ploy to throw off any pursuers, Veerappan headed for Kalmathur Hill, overlooking his stronghold Nallur.
As he escorted Nagappa through several villages, there was a spring in Veerappan’s step. People lined up to greet him and Nagappa. It turned into a road show, as the combined mass appeal of the hostage and his captor proved irresistible for the village folk. Many folded their hands, some cheered and a few even shook hands with the bandit.
Veerappan moved on to areas that were full of his supporters. Many people had lost their jobs due to the closure of hundreds of quarries in the region in the 1990s after Veerappan unleashed his reign of terror. But people blamed the government for the loss of their livelihood instead of the bandit.
But why did Veerappan kidnap Nagappa? In all his subsequent interviews and statements, he was unable to provide a ‘satisfactory’ reply. One theory was that he nursed an old grouse against the man, who, as agricultural marketing minister between 1994 and 1999, had often spoken out against Veerappan. He had also led a steadfast crusade against sandalwood smuggling, and had urged villagers not to assist the bandit.
Also, when Nagappa finally defeated his political rival Raju Gowda in the local Assembly elections, Veerappan was convinced that Nagappa’s victory was due to him and, as such, expected the minister’s assistance. He believed that it was his support that had helped Gowda win the elections twice, a claim vehemently denied by Gowda. This time, he had not supported Gowda. When Veerappan’s brother Arjunan and other men died under suspicious circumstances in police custody in Karnataka, the brigand insisted that Nagappa’s timely intervention could have saved their lives.
Veerappan’s anger towards Nagappa may have been unjustified, but there was no doubt that he faced a severe logistics crunch as compared to the days of Rajkumar’s kidnapping. He and Govindan had carefully buried cash in secret locations without the knowledge of other gang members. But the combined efforts of the STF in Karnataka and Tamil Nadu ensured his inability to retrieve the same.
Veerappan soon realized that he had committed a blunder by kidnapping Nagappa. The politician was extremely popular and had many supporters, even in villages regarded as Veerappan’s stronghold. With this abduction, Veerappan lost public sympathy.
He was now trapped in a situation that he had created. He could not let Nagappa go free without extracting something in return. He dispatched more cassettes in which he repeated his demand for Kolathur Mani’s release. He also demanded that Raju Gowda negotiate on the government’s behalf.
Gowda flatly refused. However, a local Janata Dal leader and Nagappa’s confidant is said to have taken some trips into the forest and met Veerappan. The leader reportedly established contact with the gang at a place called Odakkehalla. He was not allowed to meet Nagappa, but the gang accepted the clothes and medicines that he was carrying and ordered him to return, with ‘instructions’ for the Karnataka government to release ₹100 crore and speed up the release of Kolathur Mani.
The man returned and conveyed the message to Nagappa’s family and Karnataka CM S.M. Krishna. It was supposed to be a closely guarded secret, but Mohan Nawaz, who had managed to win the confidence of Nagappa’s family, got to know of it.
The Karnataka STF began combing operations in the Kalmathur forests. But the search was complicated when Nagappa’s wife headed to the forest, accompanied by truckloads of tearful supporters, all demanding Nagappa’s safe return.
The government initiated proceedings to secure bail for Mani, but it was a slow process. As the Karnataka STF closed in, Veerappan slipped out of Kalmathur and headed towards Chengadi. But a walk that should have taken half a day took three days. With the forests teeming with STF moles and Nagappa sympathizers, Veerappan was forced to avoid many villages. He was also unable to push Nagappa due to the latter’s ill-health. Usually, Veerappan’s modus operandi was to cross into another state after staging a kidnapping. But this time he had to hole up in Karnataka, especially after Jayalalithaa made it patently clear that there was no question of any negotiations with him.
The CM’s stand led to a visit by Parimala, who pleaded with her to withdraw the Tamil Nadu STF. The CM assured her that the STF would not cross the border, but remained firm that the cordon and search operations would continue in Tamil Nadu.
The impasse came to a sudden, unexpected end three months later.
In the early hours of 8 December, a dhoti was found tied like a banner between a pole and a tree, at a short distance from Nagappa’s home. On it were written the words ‘Nagappa-Veerappan’, along with a microcassette in a pouch. It also had instructions in Tamil that Nagappa’s household be informed about a new development.
Soon, word began filtering out that the tape contained bad news. For once, the rumours were true. Veerappan was heard stating that Nagappa had got separated from the gang and could be somewhere in the Chengadi forest.
In the tape, Veerappan recounted,
There was a bad omen. I told Govindan that bloodshed was likely. Let’s get out of here. Suddenly, there was firing from AK-47s. Some people surrounded us. There was a lot of firing. I told the old man, “Let’s go.” He w
as petrified. He did not move. We shot down two cops. Then we ducked. There was heavy fire upon us. That’s when I found Nagappa rolling on the ground. We left our bags and ran. We don’t know if Nagappa’s dead or alive. The blame will fall on me. But I have always kept my hostages happy. Rajkumar parted from us with tears in his eyes. I gave Nagappa copra and ghee. When he mentioned his family to us, we told him, “We too are without our families because of cops. If you’re now with us, it’s because of the cops.”’
Veerappan signed off by saying that he feared Nagappa was most likely dead, or else the Tamil Nadu STF would certainly have highlighted his rescue to the media. He swore five times in the name of God that he had not killed Nagappa.
That evening, Nagappa’s body was found propped up against a boulder at a spot 25 km from his farmhouse. Autopsy and forensic evidence later revealed that he had been dead for almost three days.
People from neighbouring villages began gathering at Nagappa’s farmhouse, shouting slogans against the government and police. Many held the Tamil Nadu STF responsible for the botched-up encounter. Though this was strongly refuted by the STF, the emotionally charged crowd was in no mood to listen.
Sensing trouble, Nawaz, who was at Nagappa’s home when reports of his death began circulating, walked through the crowd to his vehicle parked some distance away. He asked the driver to leave the place quietly. Within minutes of his departure, the mob started pelting stones at vehicles. A Tamil Nadu State Corporation bus was attacked and burned. He soon received a call from a friend advising him to avoid the highway, as angry mobs were on the lookout for him.
That night, Nawaz hid in his friend’s house. It was a tense few hours. Finally, at around 3 a.m., he left under cover of darkness and crossed over into Tamil Nadu.
Public fury continued for the next few days. Chaos prevailed at Nagappa’s funeral as nearly 20,000 supporters gathered on the road to his house and stopped the cortege at will. Nagappa’s family pleaded with his supporters to let them pass, even as the unruly mob abused ministers, political leaders, police personnel and journalists.
The post-mortem report stated that Nagappa had been killed by a single bullet fired from a distance of 20 feet (around 7 metres). He had been shot an hour or so after he had eaten a meal, probably on 4 or 5 December. The bullet had entered the left side of his chest and pierced his lungs and heart, and could have caused instant death.
But who fired that fatal bullet? It is a question that continues to remain unanswered. There are many conspiracy theories, though. One of them suggests that Nagappa was killed at the behest of some powerful people who feared that he had learnt of their dealings with Veerappan during his captivity. Some maintain that Nagappa died during a shootout between Veerappan’s men and a gang of poachers that the bandit’s kinsmen mistook to be STF men.
The debate about the alleged role of the Tamil Nadu STF ended after Jayalalithaa wrote to her Karnataka counterpart Krishna, criticizing the remarks attributed to his home minister, Mallikarjun Kharge.
‘The war against Veerappan must be fought in the forest where he lurks, not in the columns of the media,’ she declared. Krishna, in turn, responded that Kharge had not commented on the Tamil Nadu STF’s role.
Another theory maintained that the failed operation was actually mounted by some ‘rogue’ elements within the STF, who were determined to get Veerappan at any cost.
The truth has never been established beyond doubt. But one thing was certain—Veerappan’s image took a severe beating. Just like the LTTE lost ground in Tamil Nadu after the assassination of Rajiv Gandhi, Veerappan’s popularity among the villagers and tribals plummeted.
The former minister’s death severely restricted Veerappan’s manoeuvring space. He now became even more cautious about his sources of aid and assistance.
Nagappa was the first person abducted by Veerappan who failed to return safely. He was also the 124th person for whose death the bandit was responsible.
The presence of Nagappa’s sympathizers in every village forced Veerappan to stay close to his home. Govindan, meanwhile, tightened all access control measures. Veerappan tried hard to mislead the STF about his whereabouts, but not for long.
If Rajkumar’s abduction pulled Veerappan out of an eclipse, this hostage crisis pushed him into the final one.
Part 4
Operation Cocoon
25
Back with the STF
October 2003
In less than two decades, the Veerappan saga had assumed global dimensions. From TIME magazine to a Chinese daily that reported the incredible story of ‘a law-breaker who managed to hide from the law for twenty years’, Veerappan grabbed headlines all over. Some Indian dailies also placed him in the league of Osama bin Laden and Saddam Hussein, christening them the ‘three most wanted’. But despite his global profile, Veerappan was like a general without a division. He desperately needed troops and an escape strategy.
A flurry of audio tapes was sent from his hideout. While in one tape he raved and ranted about a possible partnership with the Peoples War Group (PWG) of Andhra Pradesh, in another he talked about his dream of a car ride with his wife and two daughters. In yet another he spoke of his grand escape to Russia. The STF members laughed hysterically on hearing this.
His innate political aspirations came to the fore in a tape in which he expressed support for bandit-turned-politician Phoolan Devi, who was shot dead in New Delhi outside her MP’s bungalow. ‘Has she done more harm than the ruling political class?’ he thundered.
But the most important tapes were reserved for two persons—CM Jayalalithaa and Walter Davaram. In the tape meant for the CM, he likened M. Karunanidhi to the demon Bhasmasura for launching the Semmandhi raid. In Walter’s tape, Veerappan took back his earlier unsavoury references. Both CM and Walter were clear that the ops against Veerappan would continue. Expert analysis of these tapes, however, proved futile.
Meanwhile, Nedumaran, Kalyani and Kolathur Mani raised their demand for the withdrawal of the STF. Posters condemning the past ‘atrocities’ of the STF appeared. The Tamil Nadu Police then arrested Kolathur Mani yet again (he had been out on bail following his previous arrest by the Karnataka STF).
Before I left Chennai to join the STF, I called on the CM. Despite all the media reports, she wished me luck and assured me of her full support. I knew she meant it. In my previous stint with the STF, I recall that all demands made by Walter Davaram, including satellite phones and Bolero jeeps, were approved immediately by the state administration. The CM ensured that red tape never hindered the STF. Just as it should be with any special force anywhere. Elite groups are typically created to handle crisis situations. They need mission-focused troops, rigorous training, inspiring leadership at all levels and the best possible gear. The last thing they need is to deal with bureaucratic queries about why special rations in place of standard rations, or ‘2,000 ammo 7.62 cal’ when ‘2,500 ammo 9 mm’ is in stock. It is for this reason that the ‘tail’ (quartermaster/storekeeper) must look at the ‘teeth’ (fighter in front).
Despite her generosity, the CM never put any pressure on us to deliver results. Only once during an election campaign in May 2004 near the STF headquarters in Sathy did she ask, ‘How is it going?’
‘We’re doing our best. We should have some good news soon,’ I assured her.
She nodded and left it at that.
The news of my posting to the STF provided fodder for the media. Some reported that I was being ‘shunted to the jungles’. Many well-wishers in the media and police sympathized with me.
This show of sympathy stunned me. I knew it would not be easy to catch Veerappan, but it is precisely such challenges that make life worthwhile. After all, poring over musty files in an air-conditioned room wasn’t exactly my USP.
My extremely supportive wife, Meena, shifted to Sathy to provide me moral support, leaving our daughter behind in Chennai to pursue her master’s. Luckily for us, some trusted friends agreed to take care of our
daughter.
While we were packing our stuff for the move, Meena told me, ‘You have eight years of service left. Even if it takes that long to get the job done, don’t worry.’
‘You think it will take me eight years to catch Veerappan? Thanks for your touching faith,’ I teased.
‘Well, considering that you can’t even find your own slippers at home, it would be quite an achievement if you could actually nab Veerappan,’ was her quick retort.
Touché!
But her witty reply belied the enormous faith she reposed in my abilities. For months, she refused to speak to a revered relative who insisted that Veerappan would never be apprehended.
I stepped out of the bridegroom’s chamber, my office at the wedding hall that now served as the STF’s headquarters in Sathy, and smiled. Maps with pins of many colours dotted all the walls. It was good to be back.
‘I can see many forty-plus bachelors waiting to enter the marriage market. When the happy day arrives, you may even consider this hall.’
My ice-breaker caused smiles all around. The men knew I was referring to the vows taken by many in the STF to remain single until Veerappan was nabbed.
‘We have to get this done. How much terrain are we talking about logistically?’
It was Hussain who answered. ‘Veerappan could be hiding in an area of almost 14,000 sq. km—about 6,000 sq. km each in Karnataka and Tamil Nadu and another 2,000 sq. km in Kerala. A lot of this terrain is under deciduous and semi-deciduous forest cover. The forest is full of thorns, rocks and shrubs. In some parts, like the Udutorai Halla gorge, you can hardly see 10 feet below. Plus, there are 400 small villages. It is impossible to keep an eye on all of them at once, but Veerappan can go to any of them for food and shelter, and often does.’ The others in the room murmured in agreement.