In the Name of God

by Ravi Subramanian

  ‘Increase the volume, please,’ Subhash called out to the attendant.

  ‘—was someone who was very popular with the crowd in and around the temple. His death is very unfortunate. First it was Gopi, and now Kannan. Isn’t it clear? It is the will of the lord. Anyone who goes against Him, must be ready to face the punishment. How, when and where He will punish you cannot be predicted. But if you incur His wrath, you will pay for it in this life itself.’ Dharmaraja Varma spoke softly, but firmly to Asianet Television Channel.

  ‘What if I recuse myself from the exercise?’ Ranjit asked.

  ‘Are you crazy? What reason will you give? An autorickshaw driver’s death? No one even knows the reason for his dea—’

  His phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then got up and walked away from the table to take the call. Ranjit waited for some time for him to return. Suddenly he felt the tingling sensation again. He stood up hastily and went to the washroom, muttering curses. It had become a serious irritant for him. He had to run to the toilet twice before he could finish even one drink.

  Subhash was already sitting when Ranjit returned from the washroom. He was looking a bit worried. Ranjit noticed the change immediately. ‘Is everything okay?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, yes.’ Subhash faked a smile. ‘I got a bit worked up, that’s all. This idiot says that we will suffer if we go against the lord’s will. And for all practical purposes, that’s what we are doing.’

  Ranjit nodded in understanding. ‘Let’s take it one day at a time,’ he suggested. ‘And forget about what I told you this morning. I don’t want to talk about it. It is too risky. Let’s just value whatever wealth is kept inside the vaults and get out of here. Nothing more than what is expected from us.’

  While Kabir was waiting in the porch for his car, he saw a young couple walk into the hotel. It was the same couple he had seen exiting the lift the other day. The girl had a big frown on her face and was on her phone. He caught a few words from her conversation: ‘. . . down, Dad. We’ll wait in the coffee shop . . .’

  Twenty minutes later, Kabir was running up the steps of the Thiruvananthapuram police headquarters. He took the elevator to the fourth floor and walked to the conference room. He pushed open the door and entered.

  ‘Good evening, Mr Rajan. How are we doing today?’ he asked with a smile.

  50

  ‘Why am I here?’ Rajan demanded angrily.

  ‘Hold on! Hold on! What’s the hurry, Mr Rajan?’ the DGP said, walking into the room seconds after Kabir. ‘We will come to that.’

  ‘How long did you know Kannan?’

  ‘From the time he was a child. Maybe six years old. After his father died, my family brought him up.’

  ‘That’s how you know he was a good swimmer and a teetotaller?’

  ‘Yes. He was completely against drinking. His father died of liver cirrhosis. But that doesn’t answer my question. Why am I here?’ He looked nervous. ‘Do you think I killed Kannan?’ he asked, quiver in his voice, swagger gone.

  The DGP ignored his question. ‘So what all did Kannan do for you?’

  ‘Household chores. Run errands. Drive us around etc. etc.’

  ‘Did he ever help you hoard?’

  ‘Hoard? Hoard what?’

  ‘Jewellery,’ Kabir said matter-of-factly. ‘Gold perhaps?’ His tone bordered on ridicule.

  ‘What? Are you crazy?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Kabir said flippantly, and followed it up with a question. ‘He brought you lunch every day?’

  ‘Yes, he did.’

  ‘He would walk up to the vault entrance and hand it over to you. And collect it from you afterwards?’

  ‘Yes. That’s correct.’

  ‘Yesterday, after lunch, did he collect the lunch bag from you?’

  ‘Yes, he did. He waited there till we finished lunch. And then he took the bag home.’

  ‘Did he take the bag home yesterday?’

  ‘I cannot say. I will have to check.’

  ‘Don’t you check if everything you’ve pilfered has made its way back to you?’

  ‘WHAT! What rubbish!’

  ‘Calm down, Mr Rajan. What if I told you that the gold bar, the one in the photograph I showed you in the hospital, was found in your lunch bag, in Kannan’s autorickshaw.’

  Rajan’s eyes widened and a shocked expression appeared on his face. ‘I don’t know anything about that. Only Kannan can tell you how you it got there. And he is dead.’

  ‘And you killed him,’ the DGP stated grimly.

  ‘Are you out of your mind? Why would I do that? We all loved Kannan!’

  ‘Oh yes. We know that. Don’t we? A brotherly love . . . eh!’

  Rajan looked at Krishnan in surprise.

  ‘Many years ago, when Kannan’s father was on his deathbed in the hospital, and you and your father were outside the general ward, ASI T.P. Ramakrishnan was sent to investigate the case. He was shunted out in no time for getting too nosey,’ Krishnan explained.

  Rajan slowly moved his eyes from the DGP’s face to his uniform. The badge. And that’s when it hit him. DGP T.P.R. Krishnan was ASI T.P. Ramakrishnan! He had never realized it because he had forgotten the name of the ASI who had come to visit Kannan’s father that day. He was very young at the time.

  ‘So, Mr Rajan,’ the DGP continued sternly, ‘we do know how much you loved Kannan and why. So stop playing games and tell us what exactly happened.’

  ‘Yes, Kannan was my stepbrother,’ Rajan admitted, head hung low, ashamed. ‘No one knew that.’

  ‘Except me,’ DGP Krishnan reconfirmed. ‘I knew it the day I saw Kannan’s father in the hospital. The purple mark around his wrist confirmed my suspicion that something was wrong. But I was asked to back down because of your family’s proximity to the king. Your father was the trustee of the temple.’

  Rajan nodded. ‘Kannan was my younger brother. The age difference between us was significant. His mother was my father’s mistress. When all this was happening we were too young to comprehend what was going on. I learnt about this much later, when my mother confided in us.’

  ‘And did Kannan know that?’

  ‘No. This was kept from him.’

  ‘How sure are you?’

  ‘His mother passed away a couple of years after his father. Kannan was too young to know anything at that stage. No one in my family knew about it except for my parents. So it is unlikely that anyone told him about it.’

  ‘Okay. Let’s move on.’ Kabir stepped into the conversation. This family saga was all very well, but he wanted to focus on the case. ‘Tell us what went wrong between the two of you.’

  ‘Nothing went wrong between us. And for the record’—he raised his volume just a little bit—‘I did NOT KILL Kannan.’ He seemed flustered. ‘And why am I being interrogated in this fashion? You cannot intimidate an honourable citizen in this manner. Has Dharmaraja Varma put you up to this?’ He sighed deeply. ‘I need to speak to my lawyer.’

  Kabir Khan merely laughed.

  The door opened and the AGP, Thiruvananthapuram Range, walked in. DGP Krishnan glanced at him dismissively, not bothering to conceal his irritation. The AGP handed over a sheet of paper to Kabir, whispered something in his ear and left. Kabir scanned the sheet quickly and then turned to Rajan.

  ‘So . . .’ he said

  ‘So?’ Rajan responded.

  ‘It was all about money?’

  ‘What nonsense!’

  Kabir offered DGP Krishnan the sheet the AGP had given him. It was a list with 750 names; the 439th name, highlighted with a yellow marker, was that of Kannan Ramalingam.

  Kabir slammed his hand hard on the table. His eyes glittering with rage, he glared at Rajan. ‘How much?’ he bellowed. ‘How much did Kannan siphon out for you?’

  DGP Krishnan set the sheet on the table. Rajan’s eyes widened and almost popped out of his head as he read what was written on the sheet of paper in front of him. It was a note issued by the ministry of finance to the
Central Board of Direct Taxes, CBI, Enforcement Directorate and the Economic Offences Wing, giving them the details they had received from the whistle-blower in the HSBC Swiss account scandal.

  As he scanned the list, he stopped at number 439: Kannan Ramalingam, and next to it was the figure $4,563,826.

  ‘Where did Kannan get all this money from?’

  ‘We thought you might want to tell us that . . .’ Kabir said as he picked up a bottle of water from the table and glugged it down. ‘Start.’

  Rajan held his head in his hands and whispered. ‘I didn’t kill him. Why don’t you believe me? It was not me.’

  When Kabir and DGP Krishnan finally emerged from the room, they were exhausted. They had interrogated Rajan for over two hours, but he had stuck to his story: he had not killed Kannan.

  ‘What do you think?’ Krishnan asked Kabir Khan.

  ‘Honestly? I don’t know.’

  ‘We can’t hold him for much longer. If we keep him overnight, we will get into trouble. There will be allegations of us using the murder investigation to stall the temple audit.’

  ‘As of now, we have nothing against him. Absolutely nothing.’ Kabir swore angrily. He paced up and down the corridor for a few minutes, trying to calm himself. ‘What’s the hospital story?’ he asked the DGP suddenly. ‘The one where you were ingloriously shunted out of the investigation into Rajan and his father?’

  ‘The focus of our investigation was Rajan’s father. Not him. He was a child himself. We suspected that Rajan’s father had killed Kannan’s father because he was involved with the latter’s wife. When Kannan’s father found out about the affair and threatened to tell the king, he was eliminated. Rajan’s family was very reputed, and his father was a trustee of the temple . . . they couldn’t afford to take the hit from this disclosure. They would’ve lost everything. A story was put out that he had died of liver cirrhosis. Given that Kannan’s father was a drunkard, everyone bought the story.’

  Kabir and the DGP fell silent for some time, each lost in his thoughts.

  At last, Kabir spoke. ‘But the point is, is he telling the truth?’

  ‘He obviously knows more than he is letting on, but the only reason he gets the benefit of the doubt is that his relationship with Kannan was perfectly normal. Possibly you may not know, but Kannan put his life on the line to save Rajan and take Gopi to the hospital the day the mob attacked the high court. Besides, you yourself said we have nothing on him. ’

  Kabir Khan nodded. ‘You’re right. Cut him loose.’

  51

  The next afternoon came the news that Dharmaraja Varma’s counsel had filed a special leave petition in the Supreme Court asking for a stay on the opening of Vault B of the Anantha Padmanabha Swamy Temple, citing the results of the Devaprasnam as the reason. Brahmashree Narayana Bhatt had categorically stated that the last vault should not be opened and the currently open vaults should be immediately sealed. Not doing so would be flouting the lord’s will and would attract serious consequences, such as the one faced by Kannan and Gopi. They hadn’t waited for the three-day Devaprasnam to get over. In fact the Devaprasnam had been declared a failure on account of the discovery of the body in the holy pond on the morning of the ritual. ‘It was the lord’s way of indicating that trouble is round the corner,’ Brahmashree had said in his statement.

  Vikram Rai was thrilled with the recent developments. He was confident that the petition against the opening of Vault B would be looked at by the Supreme Court in a positive manner. After all, nudging Dharmaraja Varma towards the Devaprasnam had been his idea. The same evening, at dinner, Vikram Rai spoke to Nirav Choksi. ‘Didn’t I say it was a good idea to let the Devaprasnam go through and use that as a reason to delay the opening of Vault B? Now we don’t look like people who are scared of doing a job. The public will also get a compromise: they’ll have saved Vault B.’

  ‘For the time being.’

  ‘Yes. Still it is a win–win for everybody.’

  ‘I always knew you were a genius,’ Nirav commented dryly.

  ‘Who is a genius?’ Subhash asked, joining the two men.

  ‘At the end of this entire exercise, the world will value all of us as geniuses,’ Vikram boasted. ‘Convincing people to do what they think we don’t want them to do is also an act of genius, isn’t it?’ he asked with a smile on his face.

  Subhash laughed. ‘Sure. Anyway, I am off to sleep. I have an early morning flight tomorrow. Goodnight!’

  ‘Where to?’ Nirav asked, but Subhash had walked away by then.

  ‘Mumbai. He is going to Mumbai,’ Vikram responded. ‘He told me this afternoon that he has some urgent work to attend to. He’ll be back by the weekend. Now that there is a possibility that the Supreme Court will accede to Dharmaraja Varma’s request on Vault B, I felt it would be fine.’

  ‘Oh? Okay . . . ’ Nirav wondered why Subhash hadn’t told him that he was going to Mumbai.

  ‘You didn’t know?’ Vikram asked as if reading Nirav’s mind. ‘I thought he would have told you. After all he is closest to you in the group.’

  ‘I’m sure he had his reasons,’ Nirav responded and then excused himself when he saw Aditya and Divya walk in.

  ‘How was your trip?’ he asked them. They were returning from a day trip to Kanyakumari, a three-hour drive from Thiruvananthapuram.

  ‘It was awesome, Dad. The Vivekananda Rock Memorial is so inspiring! And that statue of Thiruvalluvar . . .’ she said enthusiastically, but her expression belied the excitement in her voice. ‘Why are you wrapped up like this?’ She pointed to the jacket and muffler that Nirav was wearing.

  ‘The AC. It finally got too cold.’

  ‘Dad! It’s been so long! I told you that day itself. There is nothing wrong in saying that the AC is too cold. What is wrong with you men?’ She glanced at Aditya then went back to scolding Nirav. ‘You were going to ask for a change of room. What happened?’

  ‘Calm down! Calm down!’ Nirav implored. ‘They changed it today. Gave me the next room.’ He coughed. ‘Tell me more about your trip. What took you so long?’

  ‘The sunset at Kanyakumari is simply amazing. Divya wanted to wait to catch a glimpse of the sun going down.’ Aditya smiled. The look on Divya’s face said otherwise, but she didn’t contradict him.

  ‘How long are you folks here?’ Vikram Rai asked them as he rose to go back to his room.

  ‘I have a few interviews lined up so we’re leaving tomorrow morning,’ Aditya responded, putting his arm around Divya’s shoulders.

  ‘Oh! Quite a short trip.’

  Divya squirmed out of Aditya’s embrace and said, ‘Well, I wanted to be with my dad for his birthday. I am glad I came.’ She smiled and turned to leave. ‘I have lots of packing to do. Please excuse me. Are you coming up, Dad? ’

  ‘Yes. In some time. Don’t go to sleep.’

  Divya nodded. ‘Goodnight Mr Rai. Good luck with the rest of the audit,’ she said as she stepped into the lift.

  When she got out on the fourth floor, she gave Aditya a quick hug and said, ‘I will call you once I am done packing.’

  Aditya’s room was on the seventh floor.

  52

  The mood of the team was low the next day. Rajan had stayed home; he was still recovering from the ignominy of having been interrogated as a suspect. He had not told anyone about the incident, lest people began believing the lies the police was spinning. Subhash was away. Nirav was a bit edgy and irritable, probably because of his cold.

  Lunch was also a bit low key. Everyone was sitting quietly and eating the food which had been brought from the hotel. The workers and jewellers had gone for lunch as well, leaving Vault A sealed for the duration of the break. The TV in the lunchroom was on. The Supreme Court verdict had just come in.

  ‘A special bench of the Supreme Court today announced a stay on its own order thereby stalling the opening of Vault B of the Anantha Padmanabha Swamy Temple until further notice,’ the news anchor reported. ‘This was in response
to a plea filed by Dharmaraja Varma, the king of Travancore. While dismissing the arguments, which the court called regressive, the court took note of the lack of objection from the state and issued a temporary stay order. The court has directed the amicus curiae to submit a report once the evaluation of the contents of Vault A is completed. In other news—’

  ‘Finally.’ Vikram sighed, pressing the mute button on the remote. ‘Some peace will return.’

  Nirav smiled. He knew where Vikram was coming from.

  ‘I’m not sure if this is the best thing that could have happened.’

  Everyone turned towards the speaker. It was Ranjit Dubey. He had just come back from the restroom.

  He pulled out his chair and sat down. ‘Stopping the entire exercise just because we were worried about public retaliation was wrong. We should have asked for more people to finish this faster. There is something very fishy going on here.’

  ‘Conjecture, Ranjit,’ Vikram said. ‘We have not come across any serious irregularities.’

  ‘What if I say I have?’

  There was stunned silence in the room.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Nirav asked in a hushed tone.

  ‘I have been thinking of this ever since. My conscience has been pricking me . . . I have not been able to sleep, and this has made my condition worse. I would rather get this off my chest. The morning of the Devaprasnam, when we were all waiting in Dharmaraja Varma’s room, after all of you left I went back looking for a restroom. I went through a door hoping to find the toilet, but ended up in a corridor. When I continued down the passage I found something unexpected.’

  ‘And what was that?’

  ‘A gold-plating machine.’

  ‘A what?’ Vikram Rai burst out.

  ‘You heard me. A gold-plating machine.’

  ‘What use could a temple possibly have for a gold-plating machine?’ Nirav asked.

  ‘I even took a few pictures.’ He brought up the photos on his smartphone and passed it around so that everyone could see.

  There was a shocked look on Vikram’s face. ‘Why didn’t you tell us earlier?’