Pausing for a moment, he checked if it was loaded. It was. The discussion he had had with Cirisha a few years back, when he had forced her to buy it despite her discomfort with guns, raced through his mind.
He tucked it into his trouser pocket, picked up his jacket from the bed and tumbled through the house, snatching his backpack lying on a lounge chair on the way.
In the distance he heard the click of the SUV door.
Time was running out.
He sprinted to the back door and yanked it open. It surprised him, albeit for a couple of seconds, that the alarm didn’t go off. The intruders had disconnected it: it was programmed to go off if the door was opened between 11 p.m. and 5 a.m.
He jumped into the backyard, climbed over the fence and ran into the woods behind the house. Standing about a hundred yards away, under the cover of darkness, he could see the house lights come on. Three men were in his living room, and one person was running up and down, as if he was looking for someone. Surely they had come for him. He looked up and thanked God. And then, he turned and ran. For the next fifteen minutes he kept running till he reached the highway. For a moment, he considered going to the Boston Police station. But he decided against it. The officers at his front door seemed to be hand in glove with the intruders. He crossed the road, dodging oncoming traffic. It was easy, for the traffic at that time was thin. Only container trucks passed on that road during the early-morning hours and you could hear them rumble as they barrelled down the street.
He waved down a passing truck and hitched a ride till the 94th exit, a couple of miles from the entrance to the university. It cost him thirty dollars. He walked up to a roadside motel. He needed to be safe for the night, hoping that the next day would bring some cheer. His close escape got him thinking—maybe his luck was finally turning.
69
12th June 2008
Boston
Aditya was fully awake when the first rays of the sun signalled the dawn of a new day. He had hardly slept a wink. A quick shower followed by a breakfast of French toast and sausages in the room got him ready for the long day ahead.
He had got his clothes washed and ironed at the motel launderette. Dressing quickly, he sat on his bed, fully alert, until the clock in the room beeped eight times. Time to go. He called the university front desk. ‘Can you please put me through to Michael Cardoza?’
‘He isn’t in yet, sir.’
‘Can I speak to his assistant?’
‘Who, Louisa?’
‘Yes, please.’ Aditya knew Louisa. He had met her a few times.
‘Good morning. Dr Cardoza’s office.’
‘Hi Louisa. Aditya. Cirisha’s husband.’
‘Hey. How are you? I couldn’t speak to you that day. The president and the others had hijacked you. I had planned to come and meet you once you were more settled.’
‘Thanks, Louisa. I wanted to meet Michael.’
‘He won’t be in till late afternoon. He has been summoned to the executive committee meeting.’
‘Executive committee meeting? Sounds like a very important forum. Hope all is well.’ Aditya had no clue what an executive committee meeting meant for those in academia. He was just fishing for information.
‘The word on the street is that he is getting the provost’s job. He’s been summoned for that, I guess. But that’s a bit later. He has some other work to attend to in the interim.’
‘Oh wow! Congratulations! You will become the provost’s assistant. Even more powerful.’ And he faked a chuckle.
‘Haha! Thanks.’ And after a second’s pause, she added, ‘How can I help you, Aditya?’
‘I was missing Cirisha, Louisa. How heartless does one need to be to murder someone like her? There is no limit to human cruelty.’
‘They are still treating it like a murder? The cops?’
‘Yes. At least till the time the toxicology tests are out, they have no choice. I am really hoping that they get to the bottom of this soon.’
‘I know, Aditya. It must be really difficult for you. We are all there for you, love.’ Aditya felt horrible to be doing this to Louisa. He was lying to an unsuspecting soul.
‘I was wondering if I could come and take some pictures at Cirisha’s workstation. She has spent close to a decade there. I wanted to take back some memories.’
‘Sure, Aditya. When do you want to come over?’
‘Can I come now?’
‘Sure. Come over. I am in office. I can show you around.’
‘I’ll be there in thirty minutes.’
‘Great, I’ll see you soon.’
‘Could you please let the guards know? So that they let me in without any trouble.’ Aditya didn’t have his duPont Center identity card. He had given it to Shivinder.
Aditya waited for another ten minutes, and then he was on his way to the university. It was about a mile away and took him a little over fifteen minutes to get there. The guards at the gate recognized him and didn’t bother to stop him. He walked straight to the Academic Block. Louisa met him at the entrance. She gave him a warm hug and led him inside to the first floor. Aditya walked with her through the corridor till she stopped and turned towards him. A sad smile appeared on her face. ‘Cirisha’s room,’ she said, pointing to the door on the right. ‘Give me a minute.’ And she walked to the far end of the corridor. In no time, she was back with a bunch of keys.
Aditya looked at her surprised. He brought his hand up to the access control module on the door and mocked a swipe, raising his eyebrows. Louisa smiled. ‘Long story. One of Cirisha’s colleagues, who shares this room, lost her ID card a few months back. The replacement card took some time in coming. She was finding it difficult to access her workstation. So a couple of months back, the access control to this room was disabled. We use only keys now for this room.’ She smiled, opened the door and led him in.
‘This is where Cirisha spent the last six or seven years,’ she said, pointing to a workstation. Aditya looked around. There were two other workstations in that room. ‘This is where part of Michael’s team sat. Cirisha and two others.’
‘They will be coming in now?’
‘Both of them are travelling on work. In fact, they were not here for Cirisha’s memorial either. I spoke to one of them yesterday. She was very upset that she could not make it. They have been away for over three weeks and are not expected back for another week.’
Aditya scanned the room. Three workstations, each with an iMac. There were individual lockers for each workstation. In one corner was a round table with three seats, which probably served as a place for small meetings, a Xerox photocopier, a small refrigerator and a flat-panel TV, which played university videos. ‘Can I sit here for five minutes? And take a few pictures?’ His voice was barely a whisper now.
Louisa patted him on the back. ‘Sure. Take your time. I will be at my workstation. Down the alley, the last room to the left. Come over once you are done.’
Aditya looked around the room. He had orchestrated the visit to the university for two reasons. One, he wanted time to think. Even though he had kept his mobile phone switched off the whole night, he knew the motel was a stopgap safe house. He had switched it on once in the morning to call Louisa. But that would have been enough for those chasing him to figure out where he was. He could have called from the motel lines, but didn’t. With hindsight, he realized it was stupid of him. Two, he wanted to examine Cirisha’s room, just to make sure that there was nothing she would have wanted him to know. If she had had any inkling of her impending death, she might have left a clue.
The cupboards were empty. The drawers drew a blank. The computer refused to come up. He didn’t have the login ID and password to Cirisha’s account. He stood up and looked around. Helplessly. Hopelessly. There was nothing on the wall, just a solitary painting, apart from the TV, to break the monotony. A lounge chair stood guard next to the entrance.
His vision wandered over the two other workstations and that’s when he saw it. Nestled in
the space between the third workstation and the wall. Though he had seen it earlier, it hadn’t registered. Taking a few steps he went closer. The machine looked old, but well maintained. Admiring it, he felt the contours, as if trying to assess its features. There was a sticker on its front with detailed user instructions. It was a monster of a photocopier. That model had not hit India yet. He had read about it, though. Quickly he got down to work.
Surveying the sides of the machine, he intently looked for a niche. A slot which, when nudged, would open up the back of the machine. He squatted behind it and patted every inch, trying to find the hollow part which would most likely contain the wedge. He found it right at the bottom. He had to remove one screw to get there. It was easy. The steel foot-scale did the job. He had found it on Cirisha’s colleague’s table. The screw opened up the panel, behind which he found the toolkit. Once he had the toolkit, the rest was easy. Using it, he took apart the back panel. He clearly hadn’t forgotten the skills he had acquired as a sales and maintenance engineer for Xerox in India before he joined the banking industry.
He kept digging. A few more layers and he was inside the machine. In front of him were several circuit boards, all fitted into their slots. Carefully he took them all out. He knew he would not be able to put them back in order. To do that, he would need time. And that was a scarce commodity.
Whosoever tried to use the machine next, would call the maintenance personnel who would take another forty-eight hours to respond. In any case, Cirisha’s colleagues who shared the room had been out for three weeks and weren’t expected any time soon. By the time they would realize that someone had tampered with the Xerox machine, the job would hopefully be done.
Behind the space occupied by the circuit boards was a large black box. On it was written ‘100 GB, Seagate (for Xerox)’. He snapped it out of the slot, pulled the wire connecting it to the rest of the board and placed it next to him. It was about five times the size of his mobile phone.
Reassembling the machine took all of three minutes. All he did was stuff everything inside and cover it up with the back panel.
He reached out for the telephone lying on the workstation of Cirisha’s colleague, right next to the Xerox machine. While trying to dial a number, his sweaty fingers slipped and pressed the redial button. He quickly disconnected and dialled Windle’s number. Even before Windle’s phone could ring, he hung up. He was a bit unsure of Windle. The phone call the night before and the events after that had shaken him up. He picked up the hard disk, dropped it into his bag and quietly made his way to the door.
His hand was on the handle and he was about to pull the door open when the phone rang. Aditya froze. It was the phone next to the Xerox machine. Who could be calling at that time? That early in the morning. He was in two minds. His eyes wandered to the Xerox machine next to the phone. ‘Shit!’ he exclaimed. He had left two circuit boards lying on the floor. While taking them out, he had carefully kept them behind him and in his hurry to finish, he had forgotten to stuff them back in.
If he let the phone ring and left the room, Louisa might hear it and walk in. She would then surely see that something had been tampered with. That helped him decide: he walked back to the phone and picked it up.
‘Good morning.’
‘Who is this?’ He had heard that voice before.
‘Sir, I am from …’ and he hesitated. What should he say? His eyes searched around for clues. Then he saw the name. Sterling Automation. He stammered a bit but recovered fast enough. ‘I am from Sterling Automation. Here to fix the photocopier. There was a complaint.’ The label on the back of the machine was the inspiration.
‘Sure. Someone called me from this number.’ The voice sounded familiar. But he couldn’t place it.
‘Mistake, sir. I was calling my office and would have pressed the wrong button. My sincere apologies.’
‘That’s OK.’
‘I’m sorry, sir.’
‘It’s fine. Thanks.’ He was about to hang up when he heard a noise in the background. ‘Who is it …?’ When he heard the name just before the click, he knew why the voice had sounded familiar. He clicked a few buttons on the phone. From the redial list he noted down the number, just in case he needed it later. Hurriedly he took the two circuit boards and dumped them inside the dustbin. He bent down next to the Xerox machine, noted something down and walked out. Cirisha’s access card came in handy. Thank God for administrative inefficiencies. Just as with Richard’s card, Cirisha’s access ID card was still active.
He walked straight out of the Academic Block.
The shuttle to the Cambridge area was just leaving from a spot fifty metres from the Academic Block. He got into the shuttle and took a seat at the rear end. The hoody came up and he drew it tight over his head.
In thirty minutes the bus reached Cambridge. He got out. He knew he had a two- to three-hour lead over his pursuers. As the bus was leaving the university, he had seen a black SUV enter the gates. It looked like the one that was parked outside his house the night before. He couldn’t say for sure. Maybe he was hallucinating. But thus far all his hunches had been right.
70
12th June 2008
North End, Boston
North End, one of the oldest residential neighbourhoods in Boston, was a place initially inhabited by the original settlers. Waves of the Irish followed, only to be joined by the Portuguese and the Jewish. Throughout the twentieth century, the Italians had been the dominant immigrant community. No surprise, then, that the area was dotted with Italian restaurants.
Aditya got off the bus at a busy intersection. Clutching the backpack in his hand, he hastened through the hustle and bustle of a midday crowd that was stepping in and out of restaurants. He walked for about fifteen minutes till he reached Pavers Mansion, a quaint three-storeyed, brick-walled building. He stopped outside the building which was to his left and looked at the address he had hurriedly scribbled on a note. He was at the right place. He walked in. There was no elevator so he sprinted up the stairs to the top floor.
A plump lady at the reception desk smiled at him. He smiled back. ‘What can I do for you?’ The place smelt of fish. It was lunchtime.
‘I hope I am not intruding during your lunch hour. I can wait.’ He knew that this was a sure way of winning over the lady.
‘Not at all. I just finished mine,’ she replied.
‘I’m coming from MIT,’ and he flashed Cirisha’s ID card covering her photo. ‘We are in a bit of a jam. We have to submit a research paper day after tomorrow. We had photocopied all the research data and sent it to the sponsors. The person carrying both the originals and the copied documents had an accident. You would have heard of the terrible accident on the Massachusetts Turnpike yesterday afternoon. That’s the one. While our associate is safe, most of the papers were lost under the wheels of the fast-moving cars on the highway.’ Aditya saw that the receptionist’s badge had her name: Merissa. She looked on with puppy eyes as Aditya fed her his story.
‘Thankfully, all the papers were photocopied on one machine. I pulled out the hard disk from the photocopier hoping that you would be able to retrieve the data for me.’
‘You said MIT, didn’t you?’
‘Yes. MIT.’
‘We used to service their machines until a few months ago. They’ve changed their service providers now.’
‘Oh my God. So are you saying you can’t help?’
‘I’m afraid you will have to go to your existing service providers. We will have to charge you if you want us to do anything. They might even do it for free.’
‘Oh, you go ahead and charge us. We are running against time. If you are able to help me, I will definitely put in a word that you were there for us when we had an emergency and we should not have moved to another service provider. In any case, MIT isn’t very happy with Sterling Automation.’
Merissa smiled. ‘Let me see the hard disk.’ The moment she asked him, he knew the job was done. Merissa opened the door behin
d her and went inside. She came back in five minutes. ‘We will do it as an exception. It will be six hundred dollars. And we will print out all the pages for you. It will take us about half an hour to decrypt the data and then we should be able to print it out. You got lucky. Your photocopier was configured to save an image of every paper photocopied or printed on it.’
‘Thanks a ton, Merissa! You have no idea what this means to me.’
Aditya waited at the reception while the service personnel decrypted the hard disk. He had retained an interest in his previous profession and had kept track of the developments in the photocopier space. Sometime in 2002, the industry had made a giant leap, developing photocopiers with embedded hard disk drives which stored a digital image of every document copied or printed on it. Though some organizations had taken cognizance of it and put in certain data security and privacy measures, most companies hadn’t thought of it. When he pulled out the hard disk drive, he was hoping MIT was not one of those institutions that had taken such measures and disabled this feature. His wish had come true.
After the phone call, Aditya had carefully examined the sticker of the maintenance firm on the photocopier and figured out that there was something beneath it. He had peeled off the sticker, only to find that it was stuck on top of the address of the previous service providers. He had thought of taking the hard disk to Sterling Automation at first, but expecting that the previous maintenance agency would be happier to be of assistance—keen as they would be to win the relationship back—he had taken a chance and come here.
While waiting at the reception he scanned a few magazines. There were a few old newspapers but they bored him. He fiddled with his iPhone. There were a few pictures of Cirisha: memories of their honeymoon came rushing back to him. He flipped through the pictures one by one till he arrived at the last one. He zoomed in on the image and read the email again—the email which Richard had sent Cirisha. The cryptic email. He read it again. And again. Trying to make sense of it. The image he had on his phone was of the second message. The one in which Richard had said that it was ‘sent by mistake’. In the image he could also see the beginning of Cirisha’s complaint about Shivinder’s Dharavi factory to Richard. Cirisha had sent this image to Aditya’s phone when they were both trying to crack open Richard’s locker.
Bankerupt (Ravi Subramanian) Page 24