Contents
1. Tuesday: 19 May
2. Wednesday: 20 May
3. Thursday: 21 May
4. Friday: 22 May
5. Saturday: 23 May
6. Sunday: 24 May
7. Monday-Tuesday: 25-26 May
8. Wednesday: 27 May
9. Thursday: 28 May
Epilogue
About the Author
Copyright
Tuesday: 19 May
The mobile started ringing.
Jeet Singh took it out and found an unfamiliar number flashing on the phone screen. But he did note that it was a landline.
Who could it be?
Must be someone! He had got hold of that phone only recently, how could somebody call on it already? Must be a wrong number for sure.
He was in his kholi in Chinchpokli at the time, and had before him the big project of cleaning and making it habitable.
The kholi was a long nine by fourteen feet room, with a matchbox-sized kitchen and a bathroom. There were times when the kholi had been his safe haven for years. In a metro as expensive as Mumbai it was no less than a miracle to have a place of his own, despite the fact that that neighbourhood of Chinchpokli was little better than a slum. However it suited his needs perfectly. But then there was that neighbour of his—Sushmita—with whom he’d had a one-sided love affair, and had ended up being blown around like a leaf in a storm. Now he was back again like a ship’s bird.
Hoping, rather, praying, for stability in his life.
The bell stopped ringing.
Good!
Jeet Singh was a clean-shaven, fair-complexioned young Himachali in his early thirties, who had come from Dharmshala to Mumbai six years ago in search of a job. He had a lean body, an ordinary face, thin lips, an exceptionally straight nose, and thick hair and eyebrows. While most people knew him as an ordinary locksmith, thanks to his one-sided love affair he had taken part in many robberies, committed many murders. Now, he was so mired in the murk of the crime world that he couldn’t get out of it even if he wanted to.
The mobile rang again.
He looked at the screen.
The same number.
This time he took the call.
‘Hello!’ he said.
‘Badri!’ said a steady voice at the other end.
‘Who is asking?’
‘I’ll tell you. Since I have called you, I’ll tell you too. But first confirm, brother, that it is Badrinath.’
‘Yes.’
‘The famous one?’
‘Don’t talk in riddles.’
‘… the artist! Ace locksmith!’
‘How did you get this number?’
‘Bro, when you have a mobile, when you receive calls on it, when you generate calls from it, then somebody ought to know the number.’
‘What do you want?’
‘There is some work for you.’
‘What work?’
‘The kind in which you are an expert. Which nobody does better than you. Got it?’
‘Go on.’
‘You have to open something; you have no other responsibility. It would be child’s play for you. Remuneration fifty thousand.’
‘Where?’
‘You will know when you say yes.’
‘Tell me your name.’
‘That too you will know when you say yes. We will fix a meeting. We will get introduced then.’
‘I don’t need it.’
‘Is the money too little? ok, sixty.’
‘I don’t want it.’
‘Then quote your own price.’
‘No …’
‘ok, one lakh. Happy now?’
‘… I don’t need it.’
‘Arre, why are you stuck on no?’
‘Because I am not the fellow you think I am.’
‘Nonsense! I confirmed before calling.’
‘Your confirmation is no good.’
‘You … you are not Badrinath, the lock-breaker?’
‘No, I am Jeet Singh, the lock-maker. Locksmith. With a kiosk outside a hardware showroom in Crawford Market. Come there if you have lost the key to any lock, or want to get a duplicate key made. Ask anyone where to find Jeet Singh locksmith. ok?’
‘Yaar, is this a joke?’
‘Nope!’
‘Do you have any special demands?’
‘No, how could I when I’m not in that line of work?’
‘There seems to be some confusion. I want to talk face to face.’
‘No problem, come to Crawford Market.’
‘Where do you live?’
‘Well, you’re a resourceful person. You found the number, now find out the address too.’
‘Arre yaar, why don’t you understand? It’s one lakh for a job that’ll hardly take you ten to fifteen minutes …’
‘Don’t need it.’
‘Then tell me what you need.’
‘Don’t need anything at all.’
‘But …’
‘Now listen to one more thing, an important thing.’
‘What important thing?’
‘The thing that confirms that you’re a cunning fellow. That is why you call each time as if it’s the first time you are calling …’
‘What?’
‘You call each time with a new number pretending to be a new guy. This is the third time you have called me …’
‘Oh no, never. This is the first time I …’
‘What no-never! I recognized your voice. Your style of speaking just rang a bell. First you offered ten, then twenty-five, fifty, sixty and on to a lakh. Tell me, what would be the offer if you call for the fourth time … one-and-a-half or two?’
There was only silence at the other end of the line.
‘Now get this straight, what I say is final: I don’t want it. Neither now nor later. So don’t try to call a fourth, fifth, sixth time, acting all innocent. You’ll waste your time. You won’t get an answer.
Got it?’
‘Now don’t be like that, bro …’
‘I’m hanging up.’
And he did.
A little later, he called back the number out of curiosity. But nobody answered while the bell kept ringing. Since it had eight digits, Jeet Singh knew it had to be an mtnl number. When he called directory enquiry, they told him that the number belonged to a pco at Churchgate station.
‘Clever guy!’ he muttered. ‘Careful too, calling from a pco.’
The phone rang again.
Damn the guy …
But this time it was Eduardo from Valpoi, Goa.
Big Daddy!
Eduardo was the person instrumental in getting him his freedom, otherwise it would have been a matter of time before he was awarded a sentence of five to seven years in the Tardeo Super Self-service Store robbery he was accused of. Eduardo was the person who rushed from Valpoi to Mumbai on his sos call and spent fifty thousand rupees out of his own pocket to bail him out. Not only that, it was because of him that Gailo, the police eye-witness, changed his statement, though only four months back in January he had correctly identified Jeet Singh in an identification parade at Jacob Circle police lock-up as a member of the gang that had committed the robbery. Gailo turned hostile during his statement in the court because Eduardo had told him that Jeet Singh was a close friend of his first cousin Enjo. Enjo was no more by then, but Eduardo had asked Gailo to save Jeet Singh for the sake of the ‘departed soul’s friendship’, and Gailo duly complied. So Jeet Singh was released on bail on Tuesday, the sixth of January, and then miraculously acquitted of all charges due to lack of evidence on Monday, the twentieth of April. By that time, Inspector Govilkar, the sho of Tardeo police station and the root cause of this whole trouble
, had been killed by Jeet Singh. Despite assassinating a police officer in cold blood, he got away as a favour from Govilkar’s dcp Pradhan. It was because of his active assistance that Jeet Singh got the alibi that at the time of Govilkar’s murder at Timber Dock, Sewri on 29 January, ‘prime murder suspect’ Jeet Singh was locked up in Tardeo police station for failing to comply with the court order of daily attendance at the police station.
Eduardo was the person under whom Jeet Singh had committed his first big crime outside of Mumbai—of opening the impregnable vault of Double Bull Casino in Panaji. It was Eduardo’s last criminal act, but the beginning of Jeet Singh’s decline.
Since then, sixty-year-old Eduardo had been a friend, guide, guardian and father figure.
He answered the phone.
‘May my humble greetings reach Big Daddy,’ Jeet Singh said in an elated tone.
‘Reached,’ Eduardo said, ‘God bless you, my dear. How are you?’
‘I’m free.’
‘So you are. God Almighty was merciful, so you are. But how are you otherwise?’
‘ok. What about you?’
‘There are still some problems.’
‘Such as?’
‘Well, the scratches and bruises have all healed. All four broken ribs and two out of three fingers are back to normal, but the wrist is still in a plaster cast. There are two bones in the wrist, you know, and both are broken. Double fracture they call it … compound fracture, you know. The doctor here says it will take time.’
‘So it will. It has been only three weeks since you were roughed up.’
‘More … one month. But yes, it will take time.’
‘So, what did you call for?’
‘I am coming to that. But before that, tell me what’s this I read in the papers?’
‘What did you read?’
‘That Sindhi store owner … Pursumal Changulani … the one Sushmita married after ditching you … finished! Somebody murdered him …’
‘Yes. It happened three days ago, on Saturday. People say he was returning home to Colaba after closing his Lamington Road store when the robbers nabbed him. There are lots of high-end cars being stolen these days. He had a new Honda. Some papers say he died saving the car, some say he died saving the cash he had from the store’s daily sales, some say he died saving both. He resisted the robbers, and they dropped him. Multiple stabs in the stomach.’
‘Poor man! These days being rich is also a risk. The papers said no robber has been arrested!’
‘Not so far.’
‘Any eye-witness?’
‘Nope!’
‘Poor man! How old was he?’
‘Around sixty, maybe a year or two less.’
‘Too bad! Did you go there?’
‘Where?’
‘Colaba! To his house! To offer your condolences to the widow!’
Jeet Singh said nothing. He remembered the time when he was lying in hospital, badly burnt, and Shekhar Navlani, a private detective engaged by Pursumal, came to talk to him. His words echoed in his ears:
‘If there is an ounce of self-respect left in you, never ever go to Tulsi Chambers again. Not in Pursu’s absence, nor in his presence. If somebody’s lover becomes somebody’s wife, it’s a tragedy. But if somebody’s wife becomes somebody else’s lover, it is a bigger tragedy. If you have any self-respect left, then never let this bigger tragedy happen.’
‘Hello!’ Eduardo’s anxious voice brought him back. ‘Jeete! You on the line or not?’
‘Y-yes,’ Jeet Singh said in a choked voice.
‘Then why are you not saying anything?’
‘I did not go there to express my condolences.’
‘What did you say? You did not go?’
‘Yes.’
‘Even after three days?’
‘This is how it is.’
‘But why?’
‘I am not welcome there.’
‘What? You are not welcome there? Who said that?’
‘Somebody.’
‘Who?’
‘It’s a long story. You won’t understand.’
‘Jeete, even if somebody said that, he would have meant it for normal circumstances. But these are not normal circumstances. He was a person whom you knew, who saved your life by making a false statement, who saved you from the imminent torture of that devil personified, Inspector Govilkar, by saying that you, a known bad character and history-sheeter, were his employee, and the stack of currency notes which you had burnt in the lift to commit suicide was his money. Such a person is dead and you felt nothing, did nothing! Jeete, you can ignore someone when the going is good for them, but not when they’re suffering like this …’
‘Drop that story, Daddy. Now tell me, why did you call?’
‘Somebody is asking for you.’
‘Who?’
‘Somebody who has a task for you.’
‘What task?’
‘You ask me what task! Don’t you know?’
‘Some vault needs to be busted?’
‘Or something like a vault needs to be busted.’
‘And only I can do it?’
‘Only you can do it perfectly. Jeete, the caller was precise he wanted the same lockman who undid the vault of Panaji’s Double Bull Casino, who opened the vault of Pune’s Hotel Blue Star, and who hit the coin convention. He said he wants the same man.’
‘Did he know I was that man?’
‘Yes. He asked for you by name. He said he wants ace lockman Badrinath. And since he asked me, he knows that I am your post office, your middle link … contact source. He must know that if you are not accessible directly, then one has to call Big Daddy Eduardo in Valpoi.’
‘Is it someone we know from the old days?’
‘Or someone who knows someone we know from the old days.’
‘Hmm. What name did he give?’
‘He didn’t give one. Only gave a phone number … mobile. Said if you call him, he’ll tell you everything. Now note down the number.’
‘That I will do. But what else did he say?’
‘He gave you an option.’
‘What option?’
‘You can either become their heist partner, or restrict yourself to the vault-busting part. If you take the first role, you will be an equal partner. And if you take the second one, you will only get paid for busting the vault.’
‘Where is this going to happen? In Mumbai?’
‘Don’t know … he did not say … even when I specifically asked him. He said only Badrinath should be concerned about these details. He will tell only you when you contact him. Now tell me, will you do it?
‘Daddy, what would you have done had you been in my place?’
There was silence on the line as Eduardo seemed to think it over.
‘I would have said no,’ Eduardo said finally.
‘Is that so?’
‘Jeete, I am your post office. If I receive any post, isn’t it my duty to forward it to you?’
‘Of course.’
‘That I did. But you must say no this time. Don’t look for any new trouble for some time …’
His lawyer Vinod Rawal’s warning echoed in Jeet Singh’s ears:
‘Your acquittal is a slap in the face of the police department. Luckily for you, the new sho who replaced Inspector Govilkar at Tardeo police station is not as hardcore as his predecessor, otherwise the police could have built ten new cases against you. My suggestion is, don’t cross their line for some time. They can rearrest you in the same case even after an acquittal, claiming to have gathered some new evidence which could prove your guilt. They can even push for a retrial in the court.’
‘That lawyer of mine,’ Jeet Singh said, ‘also told me the same thing.’
‘He was right,’ said Eduardo. ‘Jeete, I repeat, no fresh trouble for some time. Keep to the straight and narrow for a while. That’s what would be best for you, no?’
‘Yes.’
‘Now look, it was a miracle that last mo
nth the court gave you the benefit of doubt in that open-and-shut robbery case, and actually acquitted you …’
‘But I got into big trouble immediately after coming out … picked up a fight with the people who ran an illegal midnight club called Noble House under full police protection. They robbed you, snatched one lakh rupees from you and when you resisted, nearly thrashed you to death. You were lying there in a municipal hospital dying and I was searching like mad for my dear guest from Goa all over the city …’
‘You did all that for me. You did not do it willingly, it was imposed upon you. You avenged me like a good son. Who does these things for a mere acquaintance these days?’
‘You called me a mere acquaintance, Daddy? You bailed me out, spent the money from your own pocket because I am a mere acquaintance? You stood by me during all my trials, celebrated my release by … what were you saying that time? … Yes … “painting the town red”. You did it all just because I am a mere acquaintance?’
‘Oh no, dear boy, never. You are like my own son.’
‘Then was it wrong for the son to flare up in rage after seeing Big Daddy in a battered state? Was it wrong if I vowed to avenge you, to thrash them the way they had thrashed you? If the son did something as part of his duty, was it a favour to Big Daddy?’
‘Oh no, Jeete, but if you had been exposed you would have come under fire again. And you would definitely have been put behind bars.’
‘But I wasn’t!’
‘Because God Almighty saved you. I will go this Sunday to light a big candle at St. Francis Church especially for you.’
‘Do go. Cursed people like me need a lot of prayers.’
‘Why cursed, Jeete? Now you are free.’
‘Yes, but for how long?’
‘Till the Heavenly Father protects you, till his blessings are with you. Never give up hope, Jeete, always keep that in mind. If you face any problem, then think that the Heavenly Father is testing you. No problem is for ever. No?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then what is your decision? If that person calls again, what shall I tell him?
‘Tell him no. I don’t want this job, and that is final.’
‘I’ll tell him. You may like to take down his mobile number …’
‘What for? I said no to the job, now do I have to be friends with him?’
Eduardo laughed out loud.
‘ok, I’ll disconnect now.’
‘Take care, Daddy.’
The Colaba Conspiracy Page 1