by M. N. KRISH
Lakshman managed to locate some contact numbers at the Bombay headquarters of RBI on the net and after going through a long chain of command, succeeded in getting the Governor Dr Venkat Kiran on the line. He introduced himself and passed the phone to Joshua.
Dr Kiran gave Joshua a patient hearing. He didn’t interrupt him, nor showed much reaction to Joshua’s revelations. He was one of those people who thought in fully formed paragraphs and could dictate a four-hundred page memo by the end of the day, but on the phone he was a man of few words. And even those he saved for the end was in accordance with his position and training. A skilled and seasoned bureaucrat, he was an incarnation of indirect speech, a personification of passive voice, an avatar of alliteration; it was rumoured that if a world championship was ever held, he would give the Cabinet Secretary a run for the money. His response to Joshua reflected all that skill and talent beyond doubt.
‘You and your colleagues are owed a not insignificant debt of gratitude for making sure the matter you became privy to was brought to the attention of the Bank. It shall be raised with the relevant departments and offices and given due and diligent consideration by the officials and authorities. People may rest assured that appropriate action as deemed and determined by those authorities shall be taken on parties concerned in accordance with the policies, principles, practices and procedures of the Government of India. You and your colleagues are advised to keep your findings strictly confidential in the interest of your safety and security. My office may be approached directly in case further deliberation needs to be held or any assistance needs to be sought. It may be noted that the grateful support of the Bank and the Governor shall be counted upon by you and your colleagues in handling any issues that may arise and may need to be dealt with.’
Dr Kiran rang off after passing his direct numbers to Joshua.
Joshua filled in Lakshman and said, ‘Now let me go back to the hotel and call Carla. She should have little trouble nailing Edwin Miller now.’
‘Why don’t you call from my home? It’ll be faster,’ Lakshman said. ‘It may be too late in the night for her by the time you reach the hotel.’
Joshua took a look at his watch. ‘You’re right. It’ll be late at night for her,’ he said. ‘Very good!’
Lakshman was puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’
Joshua rose from his seat and said: ‘Giving due and diligent consideration to the fact that the lady in question has not demonstrated much hesitation in waking me up in the middle of the night and taking years off my life, it shall then be deemed fitting and appropriate that she be repaid in kindly terms the not insignificant debt of gratitude that has been owed hereunto by the relevant representative of the official offices of Prof. Joshua Ezekiel and Associates.’
62
Joshua returned to the suite and dialled Carla on her mobile.
‘I was going to call you myself tomorrow, Doc,’ Carla said a bit groggily.
Right, Joshua said to himself. ‘I guess you guys need to go down to Atlanta; you’ve got some serious business to do there.’
Carla seemed taken aback. ‘Do you mind telling me what you mean?’
Joshua told her. Everything. Almost everything.
Carla thanked him for all the trouble he’d gone through and said, ‘Things are finally adding up, Doc. We only had half the picture, but thanks to you, it’s getting filled up now. We owe you one.’
‘I have my own private interest here,’ Joshua said. ‘My family and I are dying to come back home. You need to go after that Edwin Miller and his ChiP Tech company and clear our way. I’m sure he’s involved in this. Check Jeffrey’s phone records, I bet you’ll find calls to Atlanta. That’s where Edwin’s based. Maybe you should fly down there and check him out.’
‘Thanks for the advice, but for once we’re half a step ahead of you.’
‘Huh?’ Joshua gasped.
‘I’m already in Atlanta, checking out Mr Miller,’ Carla said.
‘Really?’
‘Give me half a day and I’ll get back to you with some news,’ Carla said.
63
Over the last two decades after his return to India, Lakshman had grown sufficiently cynical about the country; much of what he saw filled him with despair and anger: This is what we people deserve. Yet he couldn’t digest the fact that some crook in America was taking the whole country for a ride, a country of a billion people. He ate sparingly at lunch, returned to the office and sat trawling the net for the rest of the afternoon, trying to size up the full picture of the rupee’s fall. Indonesia and Brazil too were in the same boat as India, followed by Russia and South Africa, but he couldn’t worry about them. Learning about the ominous implications for India was agonizing enough. When Joshua called and invited him to join him at the bar in the evening he had no hesitation taking up the offer, never mind the fact that his brother-in-law Parasuram was going to be home and he couldn’t afford to walk into the house giving a live performance of a cart missing a front wheel as Urmila called it.
Once he was in the bar, the other shoe dropped as well. He had promised Urmila to go vegetarian for the rest of the holy month, but he found himself ordering a platter of tikkas with his beer to eat away the stress that was gnawing at him. Though Jeffrey was gone, his handiwork was still out there, wreaking havoc. The creator was dead but the monster was still loose, its suckers sunk deep into the bloodstream.
Lakshman hadn’t given much thought to the plunging rupee till today. It was something that happened in the abstract and he hadn’t bothered trying to comprehend the reason behind it. But he knew now why exactly it was happening and how close he was to it all. Yet there was nothing he could do and it made him fume with toothless fury. By turns sad and angry, he speared two nuggets of tikkas in one stroke with his fork and shoved them into his mouth.
He couldn’t hold back and shared his anxiety with Joshua.
‘I wouldn’t worry too much about that,’ Joshua said. He somehow sounded very confident. ‘Jeffrey may have had a little blind spot on the arbitrage thing, but he was an engineer not an economist for crying out loud. He wouldn’t have let anyone have carte blanche on his piece of software, trust me.’
In his customary disdain for economists, it was Joshua who seemed to have suddenly developed a soft spot as well as a blind spot when it came to Jeffrey. Lakshman didn’t feel assured and got back home feeling hopeless and helpless.
Proving his fears true, the rupee took a bungee dive for another day straight. The Reserve Bank tried every textbook strategy an economist finance minister could think of, including dumping tons of forex and gold into the market to break the fall, but it had had no impact whatsoever. In fact, the market had taken that as an adverse sign and panicked further. After reaching the all-time low of 60 last week, the rupee was now sinking towards the 81-mark against the dollar, driving away whatever little sleep Lakshman was going to get tonight.
64
Joshua groaned as he picked up the phone and turned on the bed-lamp at 3:43 a.m. He knew who was calling.
Carla was clearly having her revenge. But he didn’t mind it so much given what she had to say.
‘The picture is almost complete, Doc,’ she said and filled him in.
Jeffrey had returned from India with Simon, the TSP algorithm firmly in his grasp. Promising Simon that they would work on a paper, he went ahead on his own to build a black box currency trading software. Given a live feed of exchange rates, the software would crunch through the numbers and belt out a sequence of currency transactions with an arbitrage cycle that could be automatically fed into a trading platform to trigger trades that would end up making millions in profits in a matter of minutes. It was ‘black box’ software since the algorithms were all coded into an analytical engine and remained encrypted there, their workings completely hidden from the end user. When Jeffrey pitched it to Edwin, he immediately plumped fo
r it. They cut a deal where Edwin would use the software to play the markets and funnel a fraction of the profits to Jeffrey’s numbered account in the Caribbean.
‘But he decided not to pay Jeffrey his share?’ Joshua said. ‘Once he realized the system was working well, he decided to cut him out? Once you have the bomb you have no use for the crooked scientist, that kind of thing?’
‘Not really,’ Carla said. ‘That’s not what happened.’
The black box worked to the tee for a week fetching returns by the million every day, but things began to change after that. The arbitrage cycles started showing up less frequently and even when they did, the returns from them got smaller and smaller by the day.
The reason wasn’t far to seek. Someone else had got his hands around the ‘money machine’ and was cannibalizing Edwin, chasing him round the arbitrage cycles with a clone strategy, literally giving him a run for the money. Not content with his cut from Edwin, Jeffrey had found another client for the black box in Brazil.
‘Brazil, really?’ Joshua asked.
‘Yeah, I have phone records as evidence,’ Carla said. ‘There were a few calls to Sao Paolo.’
But Jeffrey was blissfully unaware of a blind spot when he made the move with the Brazilian. Not being an economist by training, he hadn’t fully realized that forex trading was a zero-sum game or anticipated the consequences it was going to unleash; he hadn’t reckoned that with a second player tapping into the black box, Edwin’s share of the pie would start shrinking – a classic case of too many crooks spoiling the broth as Joshua had once phrased it.
‘Your crazy scientist didn’t sell one bomb but two, Doc,’ Carla said. ‘When only one guy has the bomb, he is the king. When another guy has it too, the first guy’s not so powerful anymore. So before the scientist inflicts any more damage to his position, he decides to take him out. Mr Williams paid the price for his ignorance if not his greed, Doc. He involved his grad student Simon to help him hunt down the algorithm so he was killed as well. Poor guy, he was bragging to his friends about working on a path-breaking paper with his boss when he was taken down.’
‘That much I understand. But why did they come after me?’ Joshua asked. ‘I have nothing to do with any of this.’
‘But nobody knew that at first. They knew Mr Williams picked up all the tips about the algorithm and playing the currency markets from you; he even started his hunt with the transcript of your old interview with Mrs Ammal. What’s more, you were visiting India around the same time Mr Williams was travelling there. You were in Bangalore and he was in Madras, but it’s only a half-hour flight between the two cities. Who could say for sure that you gentlemen didn’t meet and start cooking up something? The coincidence, both of you visiting a country half way across the world at the same time, was eerie. All this worked against you. But that said, they had no idea of taking you out like Mr Williams. They knew who you are and the stakes involved. All they tried to do first was to check if you were involved in this. As you know, there’s nothing illegal about arbitrage trading, it’s fully legit, so there was nothing stopping you and they decided to check you out.’
‘How?’
‘By looking into all your computers to see if you had the software anywhere. That’s why they came after your laptop there.’
‘But they didn’t stop with that,’ said Joshua. ‘They came after me on the bridge here?’
‘Well, Doc,’ Carla said. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, you only have yourself to blame for that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If you’d just sat tight, they would’ve checked out all your computers, watched you from a distance and then let you go because they would see that you didn’t have the software and you had nothing to do with any of this. But you started your own little investigation there. Instead of them coming after you, you were now going after them. What made it worse, you were right on track, going to all the right places. It was only a matter of time before you nailed them. That little trip you made to the museum where Mr Williams found the algorithm did you in finally.’
Joshua was silent for a few seconds. Then, ‘Why did Jeffrey mention my name before dying?’ he asked.
‘You know that yourself, Doc.’
‘Because he’d taken the cue about Ramanujan from my old interview with his widow?’
‘That’s one reason.’
‘Is there another?’
‘Of course,’ Carla said emphatically. ‘Because you’re the only person on the planet who could figure all this out.’
When Joshua sensed Carla was about to hang up, he asked: ‘So you guys have arrested Edwin? Can I fly back home with my family?’
‘I’ve said no such thing,’ said Carla. ‘We’re still working to get you home and we’re almost there. Give us another day to sort things out and you and your family can be on your way.’
‘You guys haven’t arrested Edwin yet?’ Joshua asked, somewhat miffed.
‘No.’
‘Don’t tell me you don’t have enough evidence.’
‘No, we got plenty of evidence; especially after everything you’ve given us.’
‘Then?’
‘How do you cuff up somebody who’s not alive?’
‘Eh, what?’ Joshua sat up like a ramrod.
‘Mr Miller’s dead, Doc,’ Carla said. ‘That’s what got me to Atlanta in the first place.’
65
Lakshman had made it a habit of logging in a few extra laps at the stadium in case he woke up beating the alarm. He’d done that even last week, clad in sweater and earmuffs to keep away the shivering chill. But he was in no mood to even stick to his basic regimen and do the minimal five rounds this morning. The beer and chicken had had him promptly exiled to the room upstairs the previous night and he’d slept light and woken up early, hung over and in the throes of a bad migraine. The pain in his shoulder too refused to go away. Urmila wasn’t up yet and he was too lazy to make his coffee himself. After tossing and turning in bed for a bit, he staggered into the living room and began scouring the business channels for the latest on the rupee, keeping the volume down so as to not disturb Parasuram sleeping next door.
Unlike stock markets which operated out of specific exchanges around the world and opened and closed at set times, currency markets were highly decentralized and unregulated and carried on round the clock on all weekdays. So the rupee had continued its plunge and dropped another notch overnight. It was now accepted as a given and was not even breaking news anymore. The business channels mentioned it as an afterthought and moved on, turning their attention from the problem to the solution, interviewing NRI economists in their cosy American campuses, all of whom were speaking in one voice and hard-acquired accents, urging the Indian government to immediately cut the interest rate and sign up for an IMF package. Lakshman grew tired and jealous of them and moved on to the general channels. Soon he stumbled on Kundi TV where the flashing news ticker caught his attention. It had nothing to do with the rupee or the Reserve Bank, yet it made his heart skip a beat. He waited for the anchor to get back on the screen and listened:
Renowned industrialist Chiman Pomonia was arrested by the CBI at his Pali Hill home in Mumbai early this morning. The chief operating officer of Pomonia Group of Companies, Sridhar Subramanian, has also been taken into custody from his residence in Worli. The arrests come on the heels of a raid at their office early this morning. While officials have been tight-lipped, our sources confirm that the CBI has orchestrated a countrywide raid in all key offices of the Pomonia Group. They have reportedly recovered several top-secret government documents during the raid, including papers under preparation for presentation at the Union Budget in February. Further investigation is underway. As always, Kundi TV is the first network in the world to bring this news into your living rooms . . .
Five more minutes and the phone rang. Lakshman had half an idea who it
must be and he turned out right.
It was the Fifth Floor.
‘Good morning, Professor Lakshmana Raman. I hope I’m not disturbing you, calling so early.’
‘Not at all, sir.’
‘Do you mind coming over to my bungalow for a few minutes? I’ll be waiting for you in the garden.’
‘Anything the matter, sir?’
‘It’s better to discuss certain things in person rather than over the phone. Besides, it’ll also give me the opportunity to introduce you to the masala chai our cook makes; it’s the best laxative I have come across in thirty years.’
By the time the servant brought the masala chai to the garden, the Supreme Being had delivered his oracle to Lakshman: Please put the ceremony on hold.
Tongue firmly in the cheek, Lakshman asked, ‘Until when, sir?’
‘Until further notice,’ the director said and picked up his chai. ‘Please enjoy your tea.’
66
Lakshman arrived at the department on his Vespa, pleased but somewhat puzzled. He was plunged deeper into confusion by the sight that greeted him half way between his office and the lab: Joshua and Divya chatting in the corridor, bright smiles on their faces.
‘Hey, you’re late,’ Joshua said and extended his hand.
Lakshman shook it and ushered them both into his office.
‘Gee, I would’ve never guessed that people who specialize in passive voice oratory could be so active,’ Joshua said, ‘so active to get the act together in one day.’
Divya smiled. She had caught up on her sleep. It was she who had helped cracked the whole thing and the exhilaration showed on her face.
‘How did you know?’ Lakshman asked Divya.
‘Prof. Joshua told me just now, sir,’ she said. ‘Edwin Miller’s company, ChiP Tech, it’s part of Pomonia’s group. That’s why it’s named after him, Chi from Chiman and P from Pomonia.’