Bankerupt (Ravi Subramanian)

by Ravi Subramanian

  ‘The only way out is to confront him. We can’t just keep it to ourselves. Let’s get the others involved in this.’

  ‘Don’t you think we must wait till we have multiple points of conflict? As of now, we are sure that the data reported out of Boston prison has been tampered with. Let’s do a sanity check on some more data points. I am sure even those will turn out to be false. We can confront him after that.’

  ‘I agree. But what’s the harm in talking to the provost? He can at least be sounded off.’ Cardoza reached for his telephone and asked Louisa to put him through to the provost’s office. Within thirty seconds, Louisa called back. ‘Gordon Meier is travelling. He is on vacation somewhere in Canada. He’ll be back only tonight. You want me to connect to his hand phone?’

  Cardoza thought about it. ‘No, it’s all right.’ He looked at Cirisha and told her what Louisa had just said. ‘Gives us a little more time to think this through, I guess.’

  ‘Let’s build an airtight case, Michael.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Cardoza agreed.

  ‘I need your approval to travel to Phoenix for the next level of my verification.’

  At that very instant, Cardoza’s phone rang. ‘Hi,’ he said into the receiver. There was a long pause. ‘Do you want me to come now? We can take him right away. Or do you think we can wait till later in the evening? I checked with the pharmacy, they have the medicines. I will get them on my way back.’ Again a long pause. ‘OK. I’ll try and come early.’

  He kept the phone down and looked at Cirisha. ‘No problems about travel to Phoenix. Send me the bill.’

  ‘Thanks, Michael. I will leave tomorrow evening.’ Before she turned to leave, she couldn’t resist asking, ‘What happened, Michael? Who is unwell?’

  ‘Champ’s not been keeping too well. The vet saw him yesterday. He may not survive. I will leave early today. I need to pick up some medicines and injections on my way. It’s been upsetting me. Apologies if I sounded distracted.’

  Cirisha knew how fond Cardoza was of Champ, his Dobermann. But Champ was over nine years old. At best he would live for another couple of years. Outside of work, Cardoza’s life revolved around Champ.

  ‘Let me know if I can do something for you.’

  In the evening, out of courtesy, she checked with Cardoza. By the time he had got home with the medicines and injections, his wife had taken Champ to the hospital. Doctors were not hopeful of Champ living for more than a couple of weeks, at best. Cardoza had sounded quite distraught.

  That night Shivinder called Aditya. It was a long call. After he put the phone down, Cirisha asked Aditya what the call was about.

  ‘Apparently the Economic Offences Wing of Mumbai Police reached him. He had been avoiding calls on his phone, but somehow they got his hotel address and called him on the hotel line. They wanted to know when he was coming back to India. They even briefed him on the charges mentioned in the FIR filed against him. He is in deep shit.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘He has spoken to Kali Fariman, one of the biggest lawyers in Mumbai, to represent him. Kali will go through the papers and advise him in the next couple of days. Shivinder has bought time. He has asked us not to talk to the police. They apparently told him that the additional commissioner of police from the Economic Offences Wing of Mumbai Police will be calling you tomorrow.’

  ‘Let them.’

  ‘Shivinder wants you to deny any knowledge of anything that he has done.’

  ‘And why does he think I will listen to him?’

  ‘He is not requesting.’

  ‘As in?’

  ‘He says he will make sure you don’t talk to them.’ Aditya was worried.

  ‘What the hell!’

  ‘He is a dangerous guy, Cirisha. I was mistaken. I should not have engaged with him. But now it’s becoming messy. If he goes down, he will take me down with him.’

  ‘Meaning?’ Cirisha was unsure if she had heard him right. Where did this come from? She anyway had enough on her plate.

  ‘I had advised him on some of the things that he did. We manipulated the balance sheets of Step Up Shoes in order to make it attractive for Snuggles to buy. We set up a fraudulent franchisee network, inflated sales, collected payments from dealers which were routed out of the country through GB2. If he goes to jail, he will make sure that I too go with him.’

  Cirisha was flabbergasted. She just shook her head and threw her hands up in disdain. ‘Aditya! Please tell me you are kidding.’

  ‘No, Cirisha. I should have told you earlier.’ Aditya was ashamed of himself. For the first time, he genuinely regretted what he had done. But Cirisha was not willing to listen.

  ‘No, no, no … this is not possible. I can’t go wrong for the second time in a row. I always thought you were a good man. When GB2 sacked you, I thought it was a one-off mistake, but now it’s evident. You are a criminal. A habitual fraudster. All you men are. All of you. Oh my God …’ and she held her head in both her hands, elbows on her thighs, and started crying.

  ‘Cirisha. Please. It was a mistake. I will never do it again. I promise you.’ Aditya walked up to her and hugged her. She shook him off, stood up and slapped him across the face. It sent Aditya stumbling back a few steps.

  ‘You said the same thing before. How do I believe you? God only knows how many times you have lied to me.’ She continued sobbing. Aditya held her tight, but Cirisha didn’t care any more. And then, in one inspired moment, she looked up. ‘Go. Tell that friend of yours that I don’t care even if you are involved. I will tell the Mumbai Police everything that I know. I will not lie to them. Even if he exposes you as a result. My self-esteem and integrity are important to me. Probably more than they are for any man that I know.’ And she got up, walked straight to her room and slammed the door shut. It was the first night that the two of them were together under the same roof and Aditya slept on the couch.

  The next morning, by the time he woke up, Cirisha had left. He tried calling her on her mobile a few times. She didn’t answer the call. He checked the garage, her car was not there.

  ‘She left very early and she looked upset. Did you guys have a fight?’ When Aditya turned back, Narayanan was standing right behind him.

  ‘No. Nothing serious. Just regular husband–wife stuff.’

  55

  5th June 2008, 10.45 a.m.

  Boston

  Cirisha had not returned. Calls to her phone had gone unanswered. It was very unlike Cirisha not to answer calls irrespective of how peeved she was.

  A remorseful Aditya was standing in the lawn outside his house when two police cars came to a stop on the opposite side of the road. Three officers of the Boston Police Department got off, crossed the road with swift steps and walked towards him. Aditya was wondering why they were there when one of them called out to him, ‘Mr Raisinghania?’

  ‘Yes.’ Aditya’s heart skipped a beat. There was a tremor in his voice. ‘Is there a problem, officer?’ Was this the end of the road for him? Had Shivinder confessed to his involvement in the Snuggles scam?

  ‘We need you to come with us.’ When the officer said this, Aditya turned towards one of the cars parked on the other side of the road. Another deep-blue SUV had just driven in and come to a halt behind the police car. The doors opened and two people stepped out.

  When Aditya saw Antonio and Cardoza come out of the car, he knew something had gone horrifically wrong. And when they told him what had happened, he knew his worst fears had come true.

  Earlier that morning, the cries of a few women returning from their early-morning jog at the Boston Public Garden drew the attention of a few people, who hurried towards them. In no time, a crowd gathered around. Thankfully, one of the passers-by was a medic. He felt the pulse, looked at the dilation of the pupils, tried to listen to the heartbeat. But the body bore no signs of life. The person lying on the ground was dead. There were no physical injuries on the body to suggest murder. Probably a tired jogger who had suffered a cardiac arrest while joggin
g.

  911 was called. The cops arrived with the paramedics in the next fifteen minutes and the body was wheeled away to a nearby hospital. The victim was declared ‘brought dead’. A few credit cards found in the waist-pouch of the victim had helped identify her.

  The name on all the cards was: Cirisha Narayanan.

  56

  7th June 2008, morning

  Boston

  MIT was in mourning once again, for the second time in two months. Cirisha was as popular an individual as Richard, if not more. But more than Cirisha, the incidents that had plagued the university over the last few months worried Antonio.

  ‘It is unfortunate that we have lost a fabulous colleague, a charming faculty member and above all, a sterling human being. Cirisha was special to all of us. And our condolences go out to the family—husband Aditya Raisinghania and father Mr Narayanan—both of whom are with us today. Their grief is unparalleled. May God give them the courage to withstand the trauma.’ Antonio’s speech was a moving one. Many in the audience could be seen wiping a tear or two.

  Aditya and Narayanan were sitting in the front row, flanked by Cardoza on one side and Deahl on the other. Narayanan had his hand on Aditya’s shoulder, trying to console him. Aditya kept breaking down.

  The memorial for Cirisha ended with Aditya speaking about his wife. His was a passionate and moving speech, which ended with him saying, ‘Pending the coroner’s inquest, the Boston Police have declared that they will be treating this as a homicide, which makes it even more tragic. Why would anyone want to kill someone who was loved by everyone?’

  Aditya collected all of Cirisha’s belongings—whatever had been cleared for handover by Lieutenant Windle and his team of detectives—and walked back to his car. As Aditya drove out of the parking lot, Narayanan spoke. ‘When will they allow us to perform the last rites?’

  ‘I spoke with the chief of MIT Police an hour back. The toxicology tests will take a bit longer. Another forty-eight hours is what he said. Only after that will they hand over her body and allow us to perform the last rites. Since they are treating this as a homicide, they need to investigate all possible angles.’ There was a prolonged silence after that, only to be broken by the persistent ring of Aditya’s phone.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mr Raisinghania. Calling from Cambridge Partners. Please be on the line.’

  ‘Mr Raisinghania. Hello!’ A mature voice came on the line.

  ‘Good afternoon.’

  ‘This is Etienne Lucier. Remember, I met you at the office of Cambridge Partners last week?’

  ‘Yes, I do. How can I forget?’

  ‘I heard about the tragic death of your wife. Please accept my heartfelt condolences.’

  ‘You don’t mean that, do you? You wanted her out of the way.’

  ‘Oh no, Mr Raisinghania. We wouldn’t want her out of the way. We were just requesting for a small change in approach. That’s all. In fact, I was wondering if we could meet sometime this evening. Same place.’

  ‘I will confirm.’

  ‘Sure, Mr Raisinghania. I will wait for your confirmation.’ And the caller hung up.

  ‘Who was it?’ asked Narayanan.

  ‘Someone from Cambridge Partners. The guys who I met for a job last week. They want to meet.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I don’t know. We will soon find out.’

  ‘Will you go to meet them?’

  Aditya thought for a moment. ‘Yes, I will.’

  ‘Why would you want to do that?’

  ‘Dad, Cirisha was killed. The cops believe so. I want to know if there is any link between Cambridge Partners and Cirisha’s death. If I go, I might just be able to confirm my suspicion. You don’t stress yourself, Dad. I will also be going to the duPont Center for a game of fencing after the meeting at Cambridge Partners. I’ll probably be late getting back.’

  Aditya was in a pensive mood. Cirisha’s death had shaken him. The fact that Cirisha’s last thought of him was that of a deceitful, unscrupulous and morally degenerate person was gnawing at him. He would never have the chance to correct that impression. He would have to live with this regret all his life.

  57

  7th June 2008, evening

  Boston

  Lucier was waiting in the lobby when Aditya walked in. It was seven in the evening, well past regular work hours, and most of the people in the building had left. ‘Welcome, Mr Raisinghania. It’s good to see you again. The circumstances are very unfortunate.’

  Aditya didn’t bother to say anything in response. He was fuming. It showed in the way he was breathing. Heavy and fast.

  Lucier led him to the top floor where they had met the previous week. The bar was open. Bottles of the finest of single malts were on display. ‘Can I get you something to drink?’

  ‘No, thanks.’ Aditya waved his offer away.

  ‘Thanks for coming, Mr Raisinghania.’

  ‘What is it that you want from me? That couldn’t wait for a few days more?’

  ‘I know what you are going through.’ He walked towards the bar, poured a drink for himself and turned to face Aditya. ‘Mr Raisinghania, the board of directors at Cambridge Partners is very impressed with you. In fact, we were that day too. But there were some extraneous factors because of which we couldn’t do anything for you.’ Aditya rolled his eyes in response, frustration writ large on his face. That didn’t have any impact on Lucier. ‘If you are still interested, we would like to hire you as a partner in our fund. USD 340,000 per annum, a mortgage at zero interest to cover the house you are staying in, business class travel and a car of your choice. Does that sound attractive, Mr Raisinghania?’

  For a moment, Aditya didn’t know what to say. He proceeded to get up from his seat. ‘Thank you for your offer. I am not in a state wherein I can think properly. Give me a couple of days’ time. I will come back to you.’

  ‘Oh, come on!’ Lucier extended his left hand, touched him on his shoulder and pushed him back into the seat, albeit gently. ‘You are a big man now. In our business, business takes precedence over everything else. Family, grief, joy, occasions, celebrations. In fact, business takes precedence over life itself. You have seen that before, haven’t you?’

  Aditya had had enough. He got up. He was about to open his mouth when the door opened and the chairman walked in. ‘Mr Raisinghania. I see that my friend Lucier is trying to make up for his rude behaviour last week.’

  ‘You assholes!’ Aditya bellowed at the top of his voice. ‘You threaten me that you will kill my wife and you expect me to work for you?’

  The chairman didn’t react. ‘Mr Raisinghania,’ he said coolly, ‘in our business, we hire only men, not their families. Men who work in Cambridge Partners come here alone without any baggage. I’m sure you understand that. We are hiring you for your skills. Nalin had recommended you very highly. We had opportunities in India and wanted to see if you would be interested in fronting it for us. If you are not …’ He paused for effect. ‘Thank you for coming.’

  Aditya stormed out of the room, making a futile attempt to bang the door shut.

  He got into his car and cranked the ignition. He tapped the gear stick, moved it to drive mode and pressed the accelerator. The engine revved up and, within minutes, he was driving back towards Cambridge. The men he met hadn’t denied killing Cirisha. Did they have a role to play? He couldn’t say. He had mentioned to Lieutenant Windle about their threat, but didn’t know why they had not been investigated. Or maybe they had and he didn’t know about it. The traffic cleared up and he was zipping on the turnpike. The rubber rolling on the road made a humming sound which always excited someone like him with a fondness for driving. Flipping the car into cruise mode he picked up his mobile from the seat to his right. There were four missed calls. All from Narayanan. He would get back home and speak to him. Serious conversation was not something he wanted to engage in.

  Forty-five minutes later, he turned right at exit 94 and drove up to the gates of MIT. It had beco
me dark by then. The clock on the dashboard was pushing 8.30 p.m. A game of fencing would help, but there was only a slim chance of someone being there for him to engage with. However, deciding to take a chance, he drove up to the duPont Center and parked. He was about to get out when he saw four men entering the ground floor. All of them wore jackets and seemed well dressed. When one of them turned to check on the main door, a piece of glistening metal under his jacket caught Aditya’s eye. The men were armed. This worried Aditya. They didn’t look like students. Nobody walked into the duPont Center in expensive suits and that too with concealed weapons—it required a fair degree of arrogance and courage. Especially in Massachusetts, where carrying any kind of firearm in public was banned. MIT in particular was even stricter about it. Especially after the Richard fiasco, they had become paranoid about anyone carrying guns on campus. What was the campus security doing? How were these men allowed to come inside?

  He decided to leave and turned the car. In no time, he was cruising on the turnpike, heading towards home.

  He slowed down as he entered Glen Evelyn Drive. A strange instinct told him that everything was not as it should have been. A perfectly acceptable state of mind for a man who had just lost his wife. As he hit the final hundred-metre stretch, he noticed that the lights were on in all the houses down the street.

  Except one.

  Where was Narayanan? Why hadn’t he switched on the lights? Had he gone out for a walk and not returned yet? He drove up to the garage door which didn’t open when he clicked the remote. Was there a problem with the power circuit? He parked the car in the driveway and got off. He walked up to the front porch and, with a spare key, opened the main door to the house and stepped in.

  It was dark and everything seemed quieter than usual. There was an eerie edge to that silence, which made him nervous. He switched on the passage light. It didn’t come on. So that was the problem. The power supply had been cut. ‘Daaad?’ he called out. No response.