‘Have you been there since this conversation?’
‘Only once, for drinks and dinner. There were four other friends of our age group who had been invited. All of them had come with their wives. My wife and I reached in the end. That was when I saw Sushmita sitting with Pursu. I don’t know whether he had introduced her to the other guests or not, but he definitely never introduced her as his wife to us.’
‘Isn’t it a bit surprising?’
‘See, we were all drinking. In such an informal environment, he might have forgotten to introduce her to us.’ He paused before starting again, ‘But this surprise he talked about had reached me via some other source also, that he got married again, without telling anyone. In his house, in the informal environment of that party among old friends, that woman sitting with him could not have been anyone but his wife, and anyone could have guessed that even if he had not explicitly said anything about it. And after the party was over and the guests had left, she stayed there with him at the house. What else could one have concluded from this other than that she was his new wife?’
‘Sir, his sons are saying Sushmita was not his wife, but live-in partner. What do you say about that?’
‘Nothing, I don’t want to say anything about that. And I would never say anything that goes against the interests of my fellow Sindhi brother’s children.’
‘Even when they are involved in wrongdoing?’
‘Yes.’
‘That means you have no sympathy for the woman who is facing injustice on account of these people?’
‘Listen, boy, such disputes are natural to emerge after the sudden death of a propertied, reputed person like him. But these are domestic disputes and there is no point in an outsider like me intervening. I have known Alok, Ashok and Shobha since the time they were born. But I don’t know who Sushmita is. I don’t have first-hand knowledge of Pursu’s second marriage. If the children are calling her a live-in partner then there must be a reason for it …’
‘There is no reason other than that they want to exclude her from the inheritance of Sethji’s property.’
‘I don’t want to debate this. My point is that I will side with Pursu’s children in case they face any adverse situation.’
‘And do nothing about the injustice being meted out to her.’
‘What? Is it my job to give justice?’
‘No, but …’
‘If somebody feels that he is treated unjustly, he may go to the place where justice is delivered. Who is stopping him?’
‘Everybody is stopping her.’
‘Then she must not stop.’
‘Easier said than done, sir.’
‘Son, if there is a problem in the system, then it’s not my job to correct it. But it is indeed my job to fulfil my social responsibilities, and that I will do without fail. That’s why I said that I will stand with Pursu’s children if they face any trouble.’
‘Even if they are wrong?’
‘Yes, even if they are wrong. If they say they are not wrong, it’s my duty to believe them. I can’t term the children of my friend, my close friend, to be wrong for the sake of an outsider. Especially when that friend is no more and the children need my support.’
‘Outsider?’
‘When she can’t produce any evidence of the marriage then she is an outsider indeed.’
‘And if she does?’
‘She does what?’
‘If she does produce evidence to prove that she is the wife, then what will you do?’
‘What shall I do in that scenario? Then whatever is to be done shall be done by her.’
‘But …’
‘Now drop this matter here. I am a busy man. If you have anything else to say then say it, otherwise … you know what I mean …’
‘Please, allow me to say one more thing.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘What can you say about his will?’
‘What do you expect me to know?’
‘Do you know of any will made by Changulani sahib?’
He took some time, thinking while tapping his fingers on the table.
‘I don’t know of any recent will made by him,’ he said finally, ‘but I know of a will made by him some ten years ago because I endorsed it as a witness.’
‘Are there only one witness’ signatures on the will?’
‘No, two witnesses are supposed to sign it. But in that case, the lawyer who had drafted and registered the will was the second witness.’
‘Who was he?’
‘Some name Pursu took at that time but I can’t remember it now.’
‘What was in the will?’
‘Who knows!’
‘You can’t remember that either?’
‘No, I never knew what was in it in the first place. I did not read the will before or after signing.’
‘You signed it without reading?’
‘You surely don’t know how these things are done, how these matters are handled. It is not necessary to read a document before endorsing it.’
‘Is it so?’
‘Yes, the endorsement of witnesses is just to establish that the person who has made the will actually signed on the will in front of the witnesses and the signatures are truly his.’
‘Maybe he felt the need for a new will after the marriage?’
‘My boy, when I don’t know anything about the marriage, how can I know anything about the new will?’
‘You are right.’
‘Now, let’s stop.’
‘As you wish, sir.’
Jeet Singh reached Khar at the scheduled time.
The office of private detective Shekhar Navlani was located on the mezzanine floor of an office complex close to the telephone exchange. Jeet Singh had been there before.
When he entered the office, he found that the secretary had left by then, and the door between the outer office and the boss’s chamber was ajar. He crossed the outside office and reached the door of his chamber.
Navlani was busy at his laptop.
‘Salam, sahib,’ said Jeet Singh with respect.
‘Jeet Singh! Come in.’
Jeet Singh stepped in.
‘Take a seat.’
‘Thank you, sahib,’ he said, while sitting on one of the visitors’ chairs.
Navlani glanced at the wall clock.
‘Exact eight o’clock,’ he said, ‘you are very punctual.’
Jeet Singh smiled shyly.
‘I got back just ten minutes ago.’
‘You work too hard, sahib.’
‘Oh no, nothing like that. I do some small jobs here and there. To be true, I did not get any heavy payment work since that assignment given to me by Changulani sahib.’
‘Is it so?’
‘Yes.’
He picked the packet of cigarettes from the table, took one out and was about to put it to his lips when his hands stopped as if he remembered something. He extended the same cigarette to Jeet Singh and said, ‘Have one.’
‘Oh no, sahib,’ Jeet Singh said hurriedly.
‘Come on, have it. I can’t arrange tea at this time, so have it.’
‘If you insist, sahib …’
‘Yes, I insist,’ Navlani said with a touch of humour in his voice.
Jeet Singh took the cigarette and said thankfully, ‘You treat me with such respect, sahib, you are such a big fellow and I am an ordinary person, a tapori …’
‘Enough, enough.’
Navlani took one cigarette himself, and lighted Jeet Singh’s cigarette before his own.
Shekhar Navlani, pd, was a bespectacled, clean-shaven, thinly built man of about forty. His general demeanour was of a tired, exhausted clerk but in a moment that could change into an extremely alert and prepared mode. Jeet Singh was not aware earlier but now he knew that as a private detective, he had a good reputation in Mumbai because he guaranteed delivery of efficient and satisfactory service with utmost secrecy, as done previously—once for Pursumal and twice for Je
et Singh himself.
Navlani took a long drag of his cigarette, and then said, ‘Now tell me, why did you want to see me?’
‘I am coming to that, sahib,’ he said while bringing the cigarette to his lips, but he immediately lowered his hand. He was not very comfortable smoking in front of Navlani. ‘Sahib, I am very sorry for the death of Changulani sahib.’
‘True,’ Navlani said in a sincere tone, ‘it was a real tragedy. Such a decent, benevolent person fell victim to some carjacker’s handiwork. It’s sad, very sad.’
‘Sahib, you said he was a benevolent person, who other than me could know better? He did so much for me.’
‘Yes, he did, even more than anybody’s expectations, without any obligation or compulsion, but just because of his noble heart. This is how the greatness of a person is judged.’
‘You said it, sir.’
‘Do you remember how efficiently his mind worked when he rescued you from that failed suicide and imminent arrest by saying that the forty-eight lakh rupees left unburnt there belonged to him? Had he not done it, you might not have come out with any excuse to explain from where you got that money. And even if you escaped the arrest in that case, the police could have held you for attempted suicide, or arson, or burning the currency notes, because those are also equally big crimes, did you know?’
Jeet Singh shook his head.
‘And then he said you were his employee, freshly appointed that very day, and entrusted with the delivery of one crore rupees to Andheri to his friend and fellow Sindhi businessman Khushal Das Lakhani. Not just that, he called Lakhani in Andheri and sounded him off that he must hold up his part of the story so that the police enquiry can’t find loopholes in this grand set-up, all of which was put in place just to save your skin. He made me a negotiator to bribe inspector Govilkar who had come to investigate the incident, so as to ensure that he didn’t build a case against you for the fire in the lift, or the money found there. And as a final good deed, he sent you to an expensive, top-notch hospital like Nanavati, which saved your life and enabled you to recover within ten days despite getting burnt so badly.’
‘You are right, sir. These days not even blood relatives do for their own kin what he did for me. It was not a mere favour, but a miracle that he performed for me.’
‘I am happy that you realize this, Jeet Singh. I have always said you were the right guy on the wrong track. I have seen with my own eyes how the atrocities committed against your friend Keki Mistry shook your conscience, how that sleeping sense of humanity within you woke up from its slumber after thinking of his handicapped wife and unmarried sister. It was only because of your efforts that justice was done and those who had done those horrible things to Keki were either sentenced or killed. I had told you when you were on your deathbed in Nanavati hospital that a man is nothing despite his many merits if he lacks a sense of humanity. I said it then because I wanted to wake up your sense of humanity and I am saying it now because I can clearly see it has woken up. It seems you yourself are becoming a selfless person, after being burdened by the selfless deeds of a noble person like Sethji …’
‘Now you will probably say, sahib, that I am also becoming a noble fellow.’
‘I was about to say exactly that.’
‘No, sahib, it’s not like that. If I happened to do some good deed and if it did go well it was due to sheer luck, it was just a matter of chance, nothing else. This is a case of right coming out of wrong, like a stopped watch, which also tells the correct time twice in twenty-four hours. But this won’t change my reality, my standing in society. Wherever you go and ask “Who is Jeet Singh?”, the reply would be, “Lockbuster, safecracker, history-sheeter, known bad character.” Who will say I am a noble person?’
‘Self-criticism is a good thing, but only as long as it purifies the soul. Excessive self-criticism is counterproductive …’
‘A matric-failed person like me can’t understand this fancy talk, sahib. Now, since your time is important, let me say what I had come here to say.’
‘Sorry, go ahead.’
‘Sahib, did you know that Changulani sahib’s children have thrown Sushmita out of the house?’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘They said she is not the legally wedded wife of Changulani sahib.’
‘Yes, I have heard of it. They are saying she was his live-in partner.’
‘But you know that she was his wife?’
‘How could have I known? I was not invited to the wedding.’
‘But, sahib, you were his close aide …’
‘No, I was not. Someone’s contact with a client for business purposes doesn’t make him a close aide of that person.’
‘You used to meet him, go to his house. He would have told you at some point that the woman in his house was his wife.’
‘No, he never said that.’
‘But …’
‘Listen, try to understand the situation. Changulani sahib was a wealthy, reputed person and I am an ordinary pd, who was nothing more than a hired hand, an employee in his eyes.’
‘Oh!’
‘If such a person goes to the house of such a client, then why will the client introduce him to his wife? And if he sees a decent, dolled-up woman at his house going gaga over him then will he not automatically assume her to be the wife?’
‘I think he will.’
‘This is exactly how it was with me. Changulani sahib had never introduced her to me as his wife but he also never corrected me whenever I mentioned her as his wife in connection with my investigation.’
‘He himself never said that she was his wife?’
‘He did say it many times, because it was necessary.’
‘Necessary!’
‘Yes, as a pd he had retained my services to investigate you and your relations with Sushmita during her stay in Chinchpokli. And my investigation said that you had good relations with Sushmita and her older sister but nobody … nobody in Chinchpokli said that you had an affair with Sushmita. When I told Sethji this he insisted my investigation was wanting because he knew for sure that you used to come to his house to meet his wife when he
was away.’
‘He said it like that … that I used to come to meet his wife?’
‘Yes, and he said it a few times.’
‘And still you are saying that you are not sure whether she was his wife or not, because you were not at the marriage?’
‘Well, I did not say it previously, but I am saying it now, because things have changed after this live-in partner angle.’
‘How is that related to this issue, sahib? If somebody has a problem with his live-in partner’s previous affair, what logical step is he expected to take—break the relationship or appoint a pd to confirm the affair?’
‘You have a point there, Jeet Singh, but live-in relationships also get pretty serious, and commitments in them become very strong and binding. If a live-in relationship has reached such a level and the male partner comes to know of a previous affair of his female partner, that could still be ongoing, then it is not very unlikely for him to wish for a secret confirmation of the truth.’
‘Then what was the point of calling the live-in partner his wife? He could have said that he wanted to uncover the secrets of his live-in partner’s previous life. Hiding things from the pd is just like hiding the belly from the midwife.’
‘Your question is valid. But the answer to that lies in the vast age gap between Sushmita and Sethji. It would be scandalous for a fifty-eight-year-old man to call the twenty-two-year-old woman living with him his live-in partner, for an old man like him would seem to be a lecherous womanizer and the woman living with such an old man nothing but a gold-digger.’
‘Oh!’
‘That’s why he called her his wife and kept their dignity intact.’
‘So he just called her his wife, she was not his wife for real?’
‘What can I say?’
‘Then let me say something.’
&
nbsp; ‘Yes?’
‘When you went to Chinchpokli to enquire about her and talked to her erstwhile neighbours, did nobody say that she had left the place because she got married, and shifted to her husband’s place?’
‘Well, many people did say that.’
‘So?’
‘None of those who said it had been at the marriage. None of them had the confirmed news that Sushmita had married.’
‘Her landlady, whom she called Aunty, had the confirmed news. In fact, it was she who had told me about Sushmita’s marriage. She had said, “Jeete, girls leave their house once they are married.”’
‘Meet her once again and ask her if she had heard of the marriage from Sushmita herself, or somebody else! She must have heard it from someone and passed it on to others.’
Jeet Singh could not think of an answer to that.
‘This is how rumours are spread, and they become stronger each time they are repeated. And finally they become so strong that they appear to be true.’
‘My God, why is everybody hell-bent on proving that Sushmita was not Sethji’s wife?’
‘I am not doing that, I am just responding to your arguments with possible or likely explanations.’
‘Sahib, I want your opinion, what does your superior intelligence tell you? Was Sushmita Sethji’s wife or not?’
‘In my opinion she was …’
‘Thank God!’
‘… but my opinion could be wrong.’
‘Sahib, did you make a decision or toss a coin for heads or tails?’
Navlani kept quiet. He took a long drag from the cigarette and threw it in the ashtray.
Jeet Singh was just holding his cigarette for the sake of it. He imitated Navlani’s action.
‘Sahib,’ he said, ‘now let me say something.’
Navlani looked at him curiously.
‘But first let me ask you a question.’
‘What?’
‘You just said that you knew those people threw her out of the house saying she was a live-in partner, not the wife. I am asking you, do you know only this much, or you also know what they did to strengthen this argument of theirs? If not, then let me tell you.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Sushmita herself told me.’
The Colaba Conspiracy Page 8