‘Then?’
‘For some time nothing happened, nothing changed, then suddenly I started hearing loud voices. It was obvious that the conversation had turned into a heated argument. Both of them were arguing about something, and were shouting at each other …’
‘A violent quarrel?’
‘You said it, sir.’
‘Shouting voices get high-pitched, and they can be heard. No?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you hear anything?’
‘Well, I did, I did.’
‘You remember what you heard?’
‘Y-yes.’
‘What did you hear? No, wait a bit,’ he placed a pen and a sheet of paper before her, ‘write down what you heard.’
‘Write down?’ she hesitated.
‘Yes, this way the memory will work more efficiently.’
She held the pen and pulled the foolscap paper towards her.
Shah lit a cigarette, shifted the angle of his executive chair and reclined on it. He closed his eyes and started taking small puffs from the cigarette.
Sushmita started writing on the paper with utmost sincerity.
This went on for a long time.
Finally, she put down the pen and silently read what she had written on the paper. It was in the form of a dialogue:
‘This is not possible.’
‘I am pleading for help.’
‘I have already helped you enough.’
‘I have never denied that. I am deeply thankful for that.’
‘Then stop this thing now.’
‘I have some problems.’
‘Solve them yourself.’
‘I would not have come here had I been able to solve them myself.’
‘How many more times will you repeat this dialogue? I am fed up of hearing it again and again. It seems there is no end to your problems.’
‘Anyone can fall on hard times.’
‘I know, which is why I helped you all these times previously. But what can I do if hard times seem to chase you forever?’
‘Who shall one approach for help in such situations other than their near ones?’
‘I never declined to help you, did I?’
‘Did I ever deny that?’
‘You seem to have made it a business of asking for help. Nobody can extend so much help to anybody. Near one or not, there is a limit to these things. To tell the truth, I don’t believe you need help. You come here to make demands because you know they generally get met here.’
‘Nobody stretches his hand before anybody without a reason.’
‘Nobody does it, but you do, because you have become used to blackmailing me.’
‘What, what did you say?’
‘I said what you heard. You are not a seeker of help, you are a blackmailer. It cannot go on.’
‘You called me a blackmailer?’
‘Emotional blackmailer.’
‘You are insulting me.’
‘Why are you getting insulted?’
‘You can say anything to me because I have come to your door in need!’
‘Yes, I can. I will. You’re not obliged to listen.’
‘It is my helplessness which is compelling me to listen.’
‘Go find some solution for your helplessness. It won’t come to you just by sitting here.’
‘One more time … just one more time …’
‘No!’
‘One last time!’
‘No, I have carried you so far, that’s enough.’
‘God has made you rich, but that doesn’t mean …’
‘God has not made me rich. I became rich through my own efforts. I built this big department store from a small grocery shop. The road of hard work and perseverance that I followed is open for you as well. Go and work hard.’
‘I do work hard.’
‘Then why this clamouring?’
‘Everybody has ups and downs in business.’
‘Ups and downs I can understand. But you are trying to prove you never experience ups, you always go through the downs.’
‘So, what’s your final answer?’
‘Oh God! You still haven’t got my answer?’
‘I won’t leave so easily.’
‘Then do it with difficulty, but leave you will.’
‘So this is your final decision, that you won’t help me?’
‘This my final decision that I won’t help you anymore. I cannot help a professional borrower.’
‘You wish to take all your wealth with you after death?’
‘Why would I do that? I would send it beforehand.’
‘What?’
‘I would donate all of it to charity. And it will be registered in my account as credit when I reach the court of my maker.’
‘You can’t do this.’
‘Who will stop me? You will? Fine, go ahead, stop me. I will tell you how to do it.’
‘You will tell me how to do it?’
‘Yes, I will.’
‘And how is that?’
‘Go to the kitchen, bring a knife and thrust it in my chest. This way, you may get something via the will.’
‘You have gone mad.’
‘Shame on you! You have the temerity to sit before me in my house and call me mad!’
‘It was a slip of the tongue which I regret …’
‘Now get the hell out of here. And never come back again.’
‘I will come at least once, old man, I will come at least once.’
‘What for?’
‘You will see. I am leaving now.’
She placed the paper before the lawyer.
He straightened, turned the chair back towards Sushmita, picked his reading glasses from the table, placed them on the tip of his nose, and started reading the paper.
He spent the next five minutes doing it.
‘Good!’ he said finally, dropping the paper on the table and putting the reading glasses back in their case. ‘You have done a good job.’
Sushmita remained silent.
‘I will go through it thoroughly some other time. Presently I’ll tell you what a cursory reading of this conversation tells me.’
Sushmita looked at him with questioning eyes.
‘It’s better if you also read it again another time. Maybe something new will occur to you. Maybe you will remember something that has escaped your mind so far. I’ll give you a copy.’
He made a copy for her on the printer-copier there and gave it to her.
‘My dear,’ he then said, ‘it can be said without hesitation that the guest was not an outsider, but somebody close to your husband.’
‘Right.’
‘Who comes to your mind in this context?’
‘Both sons and the son-in-law. I don’t know who else could be counted as close.’
‘He has to be somebody close and a businessman as well. And he should be a businessman whose business has been spiralling down for a while, because at one point he says that anybody can face ups and downs in business.’
‘The son-in-law! Lekh Atlani!’
‘You are sure his business is doing badly?’
‘No, I am not. I only know that the son-in-law has a hosiery business in Kolkata. I don’t know its position in terms of profit and loss.’
‘If the seeker of financial help was the son-in-law then the position must be bad!’
‘That is there.’
‘What do the sons do in England? Job or business?’
‘I don’t know. Nobody ever spoke about it in front of me. All I ever heard was that they are well-settled in England.’
‘But you don’t know whether they are well-settled because of the job or the business?’
‘No, I don’t. But I know one more thing that may be of some use.’
‘What’s that?’
‘The younger son was in Mumbai even before the incident. It has been verified that he took a British Airways flight to London from Mumbai, on last Thursday at 11 p.m.’
‘How was this piece of information verified?’
‘Mr Navlani would be more suited to answer that.’
‘I will talk to him. So, it is certain that Changulani sahib’s younger son, Ashok, was here in Mumbai on Thursday, the eleventh?’
‘Yes.’
‘But we don’t know since when he was in Mumbai?’
‘Yes.’
‘Still, it is but natural for the foreigner son to go meet his father if he was in Mumbai.’
‘You mean to say that the younger son was Thursday’s guest, the secret visitor?’
‘Couldn’t it be so?’
‘If the son was the guest then why hide it from me?’
‘To save him embarrassment. Changulani sahib must have known the reason for his visit beforehand. He must have also determined beforehand that he was not going to extend any financial help to him. And he expected it to create bitterness. Maybe this was the reason that he did not let you know about
his visit.’
‘But he failed in doing so,’ Sushmita said, pointing towards the paper on the desk, ‘I heard everything!’
‘Changulani sahib must not have expected it. He must have believed that their voices would not go beyond the closed door into the bedroom. He might not have realized that they were shouting during the exchange of heated words.’
‘Yes, it’s quite possible. But still, isn’t it unlikely for a father to treat his son in such a harsh manner?’
‘Parents have to be strict if children stray.’
‘Sir, the son-in-law was also in Mumbai by Wednesday evening.’
‘What was that?’
‘Lekh Atlani, the son-in-law, had a Wednesday evening flight.’
‘But we are talking about Thursday!’
‘The journey could be postponed. He could have extended the ticket.’
‘You think so?’
‘What do you think?’
‘I think you’re right. A father is less likely to be so stern with his son, but a father-in-law can easily treat his son-in-law like that.’
‘Sir, what if the visitor was neither the son, nor the son-in-law?’
‘Even then, it is certain he was a young person, not an old man.’
‘How can you say that?’
‘It is you, my dear, not me, who says that.’
‘I do?’
‘Yes. See, what you’ve written in the end of your statement!’ He turned to face the foolscap paper toward her, ‘Read this line. “I will come at least once, old man, I will come at least once.” No old man calls another an old man, does he?’
Sushmita shook her head.
‘So there!’
‘Then it was the son-in-law who was the visitor, because no son can address his father so rudely.’
‘But an ill-mannered brat of a son can. Do you know what Ashok’s manners are like?’
‘No.’
‘So there, again.’
‘Sir, he also said, “Don’t come here again.” At least I cannot digest that a father could be so harsh, so severe with his son.’
‘What can you digest?’
‘He could have said that to the son-in-law. He had once told him, in front of me, that he must come only when his wife Shobha was also with him. He must have meant don’t come here alone when he said “Don’t come here again.”’
‘You have a point there.’
‘You must be surprised to know that he did not like his son-in-law much.’
‘Really?’
‘He never tried to conceal his dislike for him.’
‘Then the son-in-law seems to be a more suitable candidate for the secret visitor’s profile.’
‘Sir, if we imagine him as the secret visitor, then the mood of the conversation, the nature of the statements, everything appears to perfectly fall in place.’
‘Except one.’
‘What is that?’
‘The mention of the will at the tail-end of the conversation appears to be odd. What has the son-in-law to do with his father-in-law’s will?’
‘He has nothing to do with it, but his wife, Sethji’s daughter, must be one of the beneficiaries. Since husband and wife are one unit, it makes little difference whether the wife gets the money or the husband.’
‘Hmm, that’s possible. What else?’
‘You tell me what else.’
‘I think that’s enough. I will discuss the rest of it with Navlani, and also discuss the fees with him.’
‘So, shall I leave now?’
‘Yes,’ he stood up from his chair, and came out from behind his huge executive table, ‘please come. I will see you out.’
When she reached the closed door of the office, he opened the door with his left hand, and placed his right hand on her back, as if trying to help her get out. His right hand slipped down her back to reach her waist, and further downwards, touching her buttocks for a moment.
The big-shot lawyer had already taken the first instalment of his ‘fee in kind’.
Jeet Singh reached Paramount Bar at 9 p.m.
He entered the bar and stopped a little ahead of the entrance, his eyes scanning the place from left to right.
The bar was not completely full by that time. He knew from past experience it only got to be so after ten.
His eyes moved around the bar and stopped at Kirpekar, the barman. Their eyes met for a second, but Kirpekar immediately looked away. The expression of surprise that appeared on his face told Jeet Singh that Kirpekar had not forgotten him. Just a month back on Wednesday, 22 April, Jeet Singh had given him a solid beating at his flat in Vithalwadi, and kept him locked there all night to extract the information regarding those who had thrashed Big Daddy Eduardo.
He moved on and reached the last cabin in the row.
As he was about to enter, he spotted two men sitting on one side of the table. His first reaction was of astonishment, but then he clenched his jaw. He didn’t know who Rajaram was but he did know who Rajaram was not without anybody’s telling him.
The person he could recognize was the one who was not Rajaram.
He was the fake inspector Govind Rao Apte, who, with his equally fake subordinate, Ganpat Rao Tingre, had conned Gailo and him at Johri Bazar and stolen their booty.
The fake cop could not identify him, as he had seen him in the disguise of a Sikh last night.
What’s going on? What is last night’s fellow doing with this new guy?
‘Badrinath?’ the other one asked, smiling.
‘Yes,’ Jeet Singh said in a dry tone.
‘Come, sit.’
‘No, I won’t.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I said I am leaving.’
‘But why?’
‘Can’t you remember a thing? Do you forget by evening what you’re told in the day?’
‘Arre, what are you talking about?’
‘You were supposed to come alone!’
‘Yes, I remember. I have come alone.’
‘Then, I must be bloody drunk! I see bloody double!’
‘Oh, this one! Arre, he is my bodyguard.’
‘Nobody told me that a person is considered alone if he is with his bodyguard.’
‘Yaar, don’t get so agitated. Tell me what you want now.’
‘I don’t want anything.’
‘Then how will this end?’
‘I will go and come back. Give it some thought.’
Jeet Singh left the table and walked over to the bar. He attracted Kirpekar’s attention by gently knocking an ashtray against the counter. When Kirpekar reached him, behind the counter, Jeet Singh asked, ‘Just now I was standing by that corner cabin, did you notice?’
‘Yes, I glanced that way once,’ the barman said in a cautious tone.
‘Once is enough. Two men are sitting inside the cabin. You must have seen them coming?’
‘No, I was busy here at the counter.’
‘No problem. One of them will come out of the cabin in a while.�
�
‘One of them?’
‘Both of them may also come out, but I am sure only one of them will come out. ok?’
The barman nodded, hesitatingly.
‘You have to look at his face then, and look at it well. Tell me later whether you know him or not. ok?’
‘ok.’
‘And Kirpekar, get it right. Remember, no trying to fool me, no trying to act smart. If any such hostile thoughts cross your mind, then just remember the night of twenty-second last month. That time you walked home, this time you’ll go on a stretcher.’
‘I told you I will do it right.’
‘Well, thanks in advance then.’
He left the bar and walked to the end of the hall beyond which was a corridor with toilets. But he made no attempt to enter a toilet. Standing on the far end of the corridor, he called Gailo.
‘Where are you?’ he asked when Gailo answered.
‘The same place as you.’
‘Since when?’
‘Just got here. I’m holding my first peg,’
‘Who is with you?’
‘You’ll be surprised when you hear who. I’m with David Pardesi.’
‘How come he is there?’
‘By chance. He came this way and by chance we met. Now, he’s saying cheers with me.’
‘Gailo, finish the drink and leave the place immediately.’
‘Anything special?’
‘Yes, very special,’ Jeet Singh said, and told him about his coincidental meeting with the fake inspector. ‘If he’s really the bodyguard, he will be here as long as the body is here. It’s a good coincidence that Pardesi is with you, which, as you say, is a great thing by the grace of your God. This fake cop of ours is not familiar with my real face, but he can identify you within a second. That’s why you need to remain in the background and let Pardesi handle all of it, understood?’
‘I do quite well. But what has to be handled? You didn’t say what the job is.’
‘The bodyguard has to be tailed. It has to be found out who he is and where he lives.’
‘We need to tail the bodyguard, not his employer?’
‘If he truly is the bodyguard, then the whereabouts of the employer will come to our notice automatically, for he will go to his own place only after leaving the employer at a safe place.’
‘Right.’
‘Gailo, I have a gut feeling that in the coming days, I will be meeting the employer more and more frequently, but maybe the bodyguard will not be seen again. That’s why we must focus on the bodyguard.’
The Colaba Conspiracy Page 21