‘Twenty-five acres, I think he said. Though I must confess, he tended to exaggerate quite a bit.’
They spoke for a few more minutes and then left.
As soon as they were out of the lift and in the lobby of the hotel, Kabir took out his phone and made a call. It was over in ninety seconds. By then the driver had brought the police jeep around and they climbed into it.
‘Home secretary of Gujarat,’ Khan explained when Krishnan gave him a pointed look. ‘I have requested him for some help with recent large property transactions in Gujarat and asked him to check out the property that Parikh bought. Let’s see if that gives us something to work on.’
105
It was midnight when they reached the police headquarters. Madhavan was awake and going through the Mumbai blasts charge sheet. Patil had brought photocopies of all three thousand pages of the document upon Khan’s insistence.
‘You’re back! Good!’ Madhavan said as Kabir and Krishnan walked in. ‘I have been through these documents and don’t have any intention of continuing with it.’ He pushed the boxes to the side and asked, ‘Anything interesting?’
‘The only thing we’ve got is that Subhash Parikh owned a large parcel of land in Surat, something he bought a few months back.’
‘How does that help?’
‘Did I say it helps?’ Kabir snapped.
‘Chill! Chill!’ Madhavan responded. ‘You need a cup of coffee.’ He had become good at this—diffusing tension.
Kabir realized his folly and patted Madhavan’s back. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I—’ His phone rang. ‘Who is calling me at this hour?’ he wondered, pulling it out to see who it was. Surprised, he looked at Krishnan and whispered, ‘Home secretary. That was fast.’
He quickly walked to the other side of the room to get some privacy while he spoke to his old friend. ‘Jadeja!’
Within a couple of minutes he was back with the team. ‘Strange,’ he said. ‘They have checked all property transactions over the last two years for land parcels larger than one acre.’
‘And?’
‘Subhash Parikh’s name does not figure in the list,’ Kabir announced grimly.
‘What!’ Krishnan was stumped.
‘Hmm. That’s what it shows apparently. No property over an acre has been bought in the name of Subhash Parikh in the last two years in Surat.’
‘Are they sure?’ Krishnan sounded doubtful. ‘That was real quick. I hope they haven’t made a mistake.’
‘Unlikely. There is an audit going on at their main data centre. So their key staff was on standby. Jadeja asked one of them to spool a report for us. Apparently there were only one hundred and twenty transactions in the last two years. He is sending the entire list across. It’s possible that Parikh bought it in the name of a company. He felt that it might help if we went through it.’
‘Wonderful,’ Madhavan remarked dryly.
Two minutes later Kabir’s phone beeped—a new mail had arrived. He quickly accessed his inbox: it was from Jadeja. He opened it and read what the home secretary had to say. Kabir was extremely impressed by the way relationships worked in this country. If you knew someone it was so easy to get things done. He downloaded the attachment on his phone and started going through the list.
Meanwhile, Krishnan briefed Madhavan on their visit to the hotel and the conversation with Nirav. His tale was interrupted by a loud expletive from Kabir.
‘This is not possible!’ he exclaimed from where he stood, phone in hand. Madhavan and Krishnan turned towards him in anticipation. He did not disappoint. ‘Neither Subhash Parikh nor any company he was directly involved in bought any large parcel of land in Surat. But guess what!’ he asked with barely suppressed excitement.
‘Shreyasi Sinha!’ he blurted before either man could hazard a guess. ‘She recently bought a twenty-acre plot in Surat.’
Krishnan grabbed the phone from Kabir and looked at the document himself. There it was: Shreyasi Sinha, 20.3 Acres. Bought from the Gujarat government. It was land designated for use as a diamond or jewellery bourse.
‘Why would she buy land which has been allotted for use as a diamond bourse?’ Kabir asked, looking around for Madhavan who had gone back to the sofa and was reading something.
‘Let’s ask for a copy of the property papers,’ Krishnan recommended. ‘They should shed some light on the transaction.’
Kabir nodded, constantly glancing over his shoulder to see what Madhavan was up to. ‘I presume what you’re doing is of more interest to you than what we are discussing,’ he sniped angrily.
Madhavan didn’t respond. In the next few minutes, Kabir went through the entire property transaction list two more times, just to make sure that he was not missing something. He kept sneaking peeks at Madhavan. The latter’s lack of interest was irritating him as well as distracting him.
‘Is it possible,’ Madhavan finally looked up and said, ‘that Subhash Parikh’s murder has nothing to do with what is going on in the temple or in Thiruvananthapuram?’
Kabir set down his phone and turned towards him. ‘What makes you say that?’ He was slightly irritated that Madhavan was going on a tangent.
‘There’s something about the connection between Lakshmi Narain Sharma, Patankar and Aditya that’s bothering me. Aditya’s recommending the loan for Patankar through Nirav Choksi, Patankar’s changing drivers during the Mumbai blasts and for Subhash Parikh’s recent visit to Mumbai—it all points to a larger plan. Clearly Aditya is involved. We need to arrest and interrogate him.’
Krishnan nodded his head. ‘Our security personnel at the hotel have been asked to keep a watch and arrest Aditya if he leaves the hotel. In any case we will bring him in once we are done with what we are doing.’
‘Okay.’ Madhavan continued, ‘Look at the guys killed in the Mumbai blasts. Gokul Shah, the head of the BKC Diamond Bourse. Akhil Shah, leader of the Zaveri Bazaar traders movement against the BKC bourse. According to the charge sheet, even Nirav Choksi was nearly killed in the blast. And now Subhash Parikh, who was floating a Surat diamond bourse. Ever wondered why people connected to the diamond trade are the ones dying?’
Kabir had a shocked look on his face. He had never even considered that angle. ‘Why didn’t I think of it earlier?’ he muttered.
‘Tamilians!’ Madhavan said and tapped the side of his forehead with his index finger. Then, seeing the lost look on Kabir’s face, he added, ‘We’re naturally smarter. No offence!’ he said. Krishnan smiled.
‘What rubbish!’ Kabir retorted. Moving on, reasonably quickly, he asked, ‘How do we figure out what’s the connection?’
Krishnan’s phone rang at that moment. Seeing who it was, he hurriedly answered. ‘Thirumanassu?’ He walked over to the other side of the room. Meanwhile, Madhavan continued his conversation with Khan.
‘The cab drivers are just pawns in the entire game. Too small to be of significance. Aditya is an involved person. So it’s unlikely he will say anything. The only one who remains is Nirav Choksi. He can possibly tell us. But he didn’t say anything when we met him.’
‘But wasn’t he the one who told you about Subhash Parikh having bought some land in Surat?’ asked Madhavan. ‘So, chances are that he won’t hide anything from you, if you ask him the right questions.’
‘Boys, Dharmaraja Varma is on his way,’ Krishnan announced, interrupting their conversation.
Kabir swore angrily. ‘I have no interest in meeting him. I will wait in the canteen. Call me after he has left.’
‘You don’t have to. I am going down to the portico to receive him,’ Krishnan said, leaving the two of them in his office.
Khan turned and looked at Madhavan. ‘Getting back to our earlier conversation, let’s bring him in. We’ll send someone tomorrow morning and get him here. Otherwise we’ll meet him at breakfast tomorrow.’ It was almost 2 a.m. ‘He is in room 545,’ Kabir reminded Madhavan. ‘Coordinate with Krishnan and the team. I am going to visit Kannan’s widow tomorrow.’
/> ‘Room 545, eh?’ Madhavan asked him. ‘Is this the old room number or the new one?’
Khan was surprised. ‘New one. How do you know they changed his room?’
‘The DGP told me about this when you were perusing the list your friend Jadeja sent.’ He pressed the button to call the lift; it arrived within a few seconds. There was no one else in the lift, yet it stopped on every floor before it reached the lobby. All through the ride, Madhavan kept eerily silent. Very unlike him.
‘What happened? What’s on your mind?’ Kabir asked him as they stepped out into the lobby. He noticed a few of the king’s entourage standing there. Dharmaraja Varma and Krishnan had probably gone up in the other lift. ‘Well?’ He nudged him.
‘Just wondering,’ said Madhavan and momentarily looked towards the ceiling. ‘Why was his mailbox full when you called room 543? Anyone who is used to staying in a hotel invariably checks the mailbox otherwise the flickering light on the phone next to their bed will constantly irritate them all night.’
‘Hmm . . .’ Kabir waited for Madhavan to continue.
‘Or . . . it could be that he didn’t even know about the messages because they were left for him after he changed rooms.’
‘But if someone had called him from outside, the hotel operator would have put them through to the correct room.’
‘Unless someone called from inside the hotel, in which case they needn’t have gone through the operator at all.’
‘No point speculating,’ Kabir said as he pulled out his phone and dialled a number.
‘Who are you calling?’ Madhavan asked, only to be ignored for his trouble.
Kabir stayed on the call, waiting for someone to answer the phone. Not many people were expected to be awake at that time of the night. Finally when it was answered, a pleasant, yet groggy voice came on the line.
‘Well. The CBI doesn’t normally call good people. And I know I am not bad. And if you are calling in your individual capacity, you need to remember that no one calls a good single girl at this hour.’
‘For someone who just woke up, you sound remarkably sorted.’ Khan smiled.
Madhavan raised his eyebrows.
‘I am.’
Kabir Khan realized that this was not the time for flirting. ‘I called because I need some help.’
‘Don’t you always? Tell me.’
Kabir ignored her jibe and asked, ‘The telephone instrument in hotel rooms, how does the messaging system work?’
‘As in?’
Kabir Khan hurriedly explained the context of the question to her. Pallavi was smart. She understood quickly.
‘Well, the Lotus Pond has just upgraded their entire technology platform. Their servers, software solutions, key card mechanism, everything has changed. Believe me, it was long overdue. I specifically remember because we had a problem with our systems around the same time. We use the same vendor. Because he was busy with their upgradation, he messed up our schedule.’
‘Okay,’ Kabir said firmly which Pallavi was smart enough to understand meant ‘Move on!’
‘Whenever someone checks in, he gets allocated a message box centrally, which resides on the central server. The messages are saved there. Whenever anyone calls a room telephone and leaves a voice message, a light flashes on the instrument. If the room guest retrieves the message and listens to it, he or she is given an option to delete it. In case the guest does not check it, the voice message stays there till he checks out. The check-out process clears the mailbox automatically and moves the messages to a temporary folder on the server. After thirty days the temporary folder is overwritten and the voicemails purged. This is the default configuration of the system that they have installed. It is the same with us as well.’
‘So the message stays there till it is deleted by the guest or after thirty days, whichever is earlier.’
‘More or less,’ she said. ‘Each chain has its own benchmark, but it is all clustered around the thirty-day mark.’
He asked a few more basic questions. Satisfied with the information for the moment, he thanked her for her help and apologized for having woken her up.
‘It is always a pleasure talking to you,’ Pallavi said.
Kabir wondered if she really meant it. He was still wondering when he turned and looked at Madhavan who gave him a naughty grin. ‘Oh stuff it! Let’s go,’ he said.
‘Where to?’ Madhavan asked.
‘To our hotel,’ said Khan. ‘I need to check on something.’
‘The king is here. Krishnan might need you,’ Madhavan argued.
‘That’s his problem, not mine.’ He grabbed Madhavan by the hand and dragged him away. In no time they were driving through the empty streets of Thiruvananthapuram, on their way to Hotel Lotus Pond.
106
At the hotel, after checking with Nirav, the receptionist sent someone to escort them to his room. Nirav was standing at the door. ‘Back so soon, Officer? I thought we were done for the day.’ He smirked.
‘We need to go to your previous room.’
‘It is no longer my room.’
‘I know that, but we thought you could take us if you have the keys,’ Madhavan said, suddenly feeling very stupid. They could have asked the reception for the keys to 543. Kabir would tell him later that he didn’t ask for 543 at the reception because they would not have been granted access without proper paperwork. Now it would seem like Nirav had asked for the room key card as it was his room previously.
Nirav looked at the steward who had accompanied Kabir and Madhavan to the floor and asked him to bring the master key. The steward, who was probably from the housekeeping department, pulled out his own master key and opened 543 for them.
Kabir dismissed him with a quick ‘Thank you’; he didn’t want him hanging around. He followed Nirav and Madhavan into the room and shut the door.
‘Do you access the messages that people leave for you in your room?’
‘I do. But these days who leaves messages on your room phone? Especially when you have mobiles.’
‘I wonder who left you these messages then?’ Kabir said, walking to the phone on the bedside table.
Nirav turned towards the phone. The red light was blinking. Kabir activated the speakerphone. After a glance at Madhavan he took out his phone, tapped on the screen a few times and placed it next to the landline. He then reached out and pressed the message button on the hotel phone.
A voice crackled over the speaker: ‘You have ten new messages.’
107
For the second time that night, Madhavan and Kabir sped through the deserted streets of Thiruvananthapuram. A tense Kabir was at the wheel, and in no time, they had reached the police headquarters. He got out of the car and rushed inside. Thankfully the lift was on the ground floor, else he would have run up the five floors to the DGP’s office.
As soon as he entered the room, he stopped. Dharmaraja Varma was sitting on the sofa with Krishnan, Radhakrishnan Nair from the transport company standing beside him.
‘I’m sorry,’ Kabir apologized and turned to go.
‘Stay!’ Dharmaraja Varma called out. ‘I am leaving. I came because I wanted to speak with Krishnan.’ He stood up. Krishnan wanted to accompany him down the lift, but Varma stopped him.
‘What did he want?’ Kabir asked the moment the lift door closed, and the king was out of sight.
‘He was angry.’
‘Looked it,’ Khan said. ‘But why?’
‘He was furious that someone went to check out the construction site next to the Kuzhivilakom temple, even though we’d been told not to.’
‘Be careful.’
‘I know. The king can be vengeful. His ego is hurt. And he will hit back.’ He exhaled loudly and settled into his chair. ‘Where did you guys disappear to?’
Kabir Khan pulled out his phone, placed it on the table and played the messages he had recorded in room 543.
By the time the last message finished, beads of sweat had broken out on Krishna
n’s forehead. The messages revealed a saga that, though not entirely unexpected, shook them out of their skin.
‘What do you think we should do?’ he asked Kabir.
‘Confront him,’ Kabir said without a moment’s hesitation. ‘We need to bring him in. We have enough evidence against him.’
Krishnan looked at Kabir and Madhavan grimly. ‘Pick him up.’
A team of six police officers descended on Hotel Lotus Pond and arrested Aditya Kumar that night. He was quickly hustled out through a side entrance. The few journalists who had waited all night outside the hotel had no clue about what was going on.
108
Aditya was pacing in his cell nervously. His entire world had come to a grinding halt. He had been unceremoniously woken from his sleep and carted away by a group of six policemen, led by the ACP, Thiruvananthapuram Range, and brought to the police headquarters. No one had told him why he was being arrested.
‘Why am I here? What have I done?’ he demanded the moment Krishnan and Khan walked in.
‘You don’t know?’
Aditya didn’t reply.
‘I am so sorry! They should have told you. My sincere apologies,’ Krishnan mocked. ‘Let me dispense with the suspense then.’ He glanced at Kabir before turning the full force of his glare on Aditya. ‘Tell us now!’ he barked. ‘What is your connection with Dilip Patankar?’
‘Patankar?’ Aditya thought for a second and replied, ‘I know him as a regular driver.’
‘How did Lakshmi Narain Sharma end up going to the airport to pick up Subhash Parikh the day he was supposed to travel to Mumbai?’
‘Huh? How the hell do I know? I didn’t fix it up.’ Aditya was adamant.
Krishnan could not counter that; Patankar had still not admitted anything. And the forensics team hadn’t recovered the data that he had erased from his mobile phone.
‘Then tell us why you killed Subhash Parikh.’ Kabir took over.
‘WHAT!’ Aditya looked shocked. ‘Are you crazy? I did not kill him!’ There was no sign of remorse on his face.
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