by Vish Dhamija
'May I come in?' Anita knocked and peeped in.
'Oh yes. Sit down. Coffee?' What was wrong with this girl, why was she covered from head to toe now?
'Yes. Thanks.'
Narang called his secretary and ordered coffee. 'I have a scoop for you Anita, but only if you agree to the terms. I can guarantee that if you take up the challenge, and my advice, this could be a career defining case.'
'What is it?'
'Excited already?'
'Oh yes. You know I came here right out of college and you accepted me, for which I am indebted. Now, you're trusting me with a case you think is momentous, I am honoured.'
The coffee arrived. The secretary poured the brew into the china and left as quietly as he had entered the boss's office.
'Good. I know you are hungry for success and I like such people. It reminds me of my own youth when I was struggling.'
Hardly, you fraud, Anita wanted to spit out, knowing well that Narang never had to labour for anything. 'I know sir,' she agreed politely.
'Good.'
Without another word, he passed on the letter he had just received, and watched her read it. Fuck, she was gorgeous.
'Is this...really? Oh my God, is this…' Words poured out of her mouth staccato. 'Yes. The killer wants to be in touch with us, and I can let you cover this case for our paper.'
'I am really flattered. I'll do anything to take up this case.'
'Ah...you can't just say that, you have to show me that you mean you'd do anything.'
'How?'
Was she daft? Did she keep her eyes and ears closed at work? She'd been here two months now. She should have known what the boss liked, by now. Was he supposed to explain to her what he wanted in return?
'It's like this Anita. I will get in touch with Mumbai Police and ask them to cooperate on your story from now on. If the killer is in touch with us, they better listen to our demands.'
'But why us, sir? I mean he could have gone to any newspaper or television channel in Mumbai and —'
'Because we are the best.' Narang had lied for so long about the excellence of his rag that he had even deceived himself too. 'Don't you agree?'
'Of course I do.' Anita responded like she was anticipating the question. 'Where is the envelope, sir?'
'You can call me Amit. Why do you want the envelope?' He looked around at his desk and held out the same to her.
'For the postmark.' Dickhead. She left the qualifier out of the sentence. Holding the manila envelope at the corners to save for the forensic lab whatever her moronic boss had not smudged already, she examined the stamps carefully. Churchgate. 'It was posted from Churchgate yesterday.'
'Wow...'
Anita managed a smile. How sharp was that? That was the first thing any person with an IQ over a hundred would have scanned for, but Amit Narang, she knew, was gifted with a brain the size of an ostrich's.
'Okay, now let's see if you want to take this story. I’ll speak to the Crime Branch officers — do you know who's handling this case?'
'DCP Rita Ferreira.'
A woman? Narang let his surprise pass. 'Who's her boss? I'll speak to her boss, it always puts pressure on the investigating officer. Find out who this Rita Ferreira's boss is and come back, I'll call him. These fucking coppers are no better than dogs. If the bone doesn't work, the stick does.'
'Could I speak to Mr Vikram Joshi please? No, I do not have an appointment, but I need to speak to him urgently. I am Amit Narang, Editor-in-Chief of the NEWS of the DAY. Yes, I'll hold on.' Narang winked at Anita to convey that his authoritative tone had worked.
'Joint Commissioner Joshi here, Mr Narang. What can I do for you?'
'This is regarding the recent murders in Versova and the ITC hotel, Mr Commissioner.'
'Oh, my junior is in charge of the case. What is it about the murders that you want to know?'
'On the contrary, it is we who have some information. The killer has been in touch with our newspaper this morning, and we'd like to hand over the letter he's sent to us, but in return, we'd like to get some exclusive information on the investigation being done by your department.'
Joshi pressed the buzzer under his table and his assistant arrived in a flash. Keeping a hand on the mouthpiece, he mimed “Rita. Now”. Noting the urgency in his master’s eyes, the assistant ran out to the Ops Room to get Rita.
'What have you received?'
Narang read out the letter verbatim.
Rita had only got into the Operation Room for the first briefing of the day when Joshi’s assistant — who insisted that the boss wanted her pronto — pulled her out.
When Rita entered Joshi's office, he beckoned her to remain silent by keeping a finger on his lips like a teacher reprimanding a student, and gestured her to sit. Then he put the phone on speaker.
Narang's voice filled the room.
'So, as I was saying Mr Commissioner, we need to help each other to find this criminal, who's already murdered two humble citizens and plans to murder many more.'
'What do you want from us?'
'Co-operation. The killer has notified us that he will be in touch if we cover the news regarding the murders and the ensuing investigation.'
'Can’t you see what he is after, Mr Narang?'
Rita gathered that the killer who had murdered Suri and Lele had contacted some journalist. Her mind went into overdrive...Narang, Narang, Narang...which newspaper was it?
'The bastard,' Joshi carried on. 'He wants NEWS of the DAY to cover events so he gets information on how far the investigation has reached, and how he can outmanoeuvre the police. He’s playing with you and us, Mr Narang.'
NEWS of the WORLD, Anita, Anita something…Rita became alert again, her mind returned to the conversation.
'Why don't you come over to my office and we could have a chat, I am at Nariman Point.'
'As I told you Mr Narang, my junior DCP Ferreira is responsible for this case, so I’ll let her know regarding this without delay. I'd advise you to come over to Crawford Market immediately so we don't lose any more time.'
'Mr Joshi, I am not giving you the letter if I do not get an exclusive scoop in return.'
'So you want me to bend over backwards because you've got a letter, which could well be from some weirdo?'
'He's also sent us the SIM card he used to call Samir Suri. Does that mean anything to you?' Narang thought he, now, had Joshi by the proverbial short hairs.
But he had misjudged Joshi.
'Mr Narang, you have some evidence which might be vital for this case. If you do not come to Crawford Market in the next two hours, I promise I will send uniformed police to your office to confiscate the letter and SIM.'
'You have no idea who you're talking to,' Narang raised his voice.
'Oh I know who you are. If you insist, I can send a search warrant for your premises. If that isn't enough, I can send an arrest warrant for obstructing an investigation, cause if I get you arrested, I have the right to search your office, residence...' Henpecked he might have been, but Joshi had balls of steel; he might not have been a toastmaster who wanted to share limelight, but he was no milquetoast either. Rita was seeing the other side of Joshi, the side that she had only heard about since she had joined. 'Two hours Mr Narang, and we can talk. Anything else?'
Tail between his legs, Narang's tone flattened. He was glad he hadn't put the phone on speaker for Anita to hear the conversation. 'Could I bring my Crime Editor along?'
'Be my guest.'
'Ha, he had to give in,' Narang told Anita after he put the phone down. 'Let's go.'
'How do you want to handle this?' Joshi asked Rita after narrating the content of the letter and the initial conversation she had missed.
'What does he want?'
'Who?'
'Narang.'
'Scoop. He wants to know details of the investigation, so he can publish. Crazy.'
"Remember, the only thing that works against a serial killer is his desire to get caught..." Ash Mattel's wor
ds echoed in Rita's brain. "He wants to be recognised for his art." It was all coming true, faster than she had imagined: the killer making contact with the media, striving to know what the police investigation had accomplished so far, to gauge how close the police were in getting to him. It needed a more ingenious approach than Joshi accepting or refusing Narang's request, which was, in effect, the killer's demand. She recollected Ash explicating that the probabilities of failure were higher when the killer did something out of routine.
'We need a plan sir. The crime profiler you recommended had warned me of this situation, so, I think, it is in our interest, as much as it is in Narang's, to keep the dialogue open with this perp.'
'I agree, but be careful. This Narang guy will certainly try arm-twisting, you just heard how belligerent he was, almost ready for a fight. I know he's connected to the political fraternity in the state, despite his father being out of power, but we'll tackle that. I'll have a word with Mr Saxena before Narang — or one of his million stooges — approaches the boss. But, I'd like you to see him with me first time...he is known to conjure up stories, and he can be dodgy. We need to ensure he doesn't print a single word before we approve it.'
‘As I mentioned earlier…' Narang harrumphed to get Anita’s attention as he drove her to Crawford Market. 'I might be risking a lot by offering you the opportunity to cover this case, but I am confident you won't let me down professionally.' He paused. 'And personally.'
'You can be assured of that, sir.'
'Amit.'
'Sorry. Amit. I'll be discreet, punctual, meticulous —'
'I'd like to see everything you pen, and mind you I want everything published under our joint names. It will give more credibility if the readers see my name.'
Swine. Son-of-a-bitch.
'Oh yes, of course. No problem.'
'Good, professionalism is a must. What else would you do?'
'I am not sure I understand…'
Didn't she? Was this girl so witless that she didn’t take the hints or was he not being obvious? He took his left hand off the steering wheel of the car and placed it on her thigh. Now, do you get it, he wanted to say it. 'I mean something personal for me?'
'But you're married, Amit.' Anita had successfully dodged the insinuations by acting dumb thus far, but, with Narang boldly moving his hand up her thigh, she knew it was no longer possible.
Fuck that… what is your fucking problem with me being married? I am not proposing marriage, Narang wanted to yell. But he checked himself. 'Does that bother you?'
'Well, I've never been with a married man.'
'But, I am doing you a big favour, shaping your career,' he said as if it was a fitting exchange of services.
'Can I think about it?'
'Don't give me a reason to take this case away. I want an answer when you come into office tomorrow morning.'
Narang and Anita were ushered into Joshi's office after relevant security checks. Narang was peeved at not being allowed to carry his mobile phone inside. Rules.
'Good afternoon Commissioner sahib,' Narang, having tried his aggression on the phone and failed, said with aplomb; his demeanour suggested like he was meeting a long lost friend. He was apparently polite but Rita couldn't help notice the undertone of haughtiness: I am the power. Arrogant ass. Trying to cut a deal.
'Hello and welcome to our humble office.' Joshi arose and offered his hand. 'This is DCP Rita Ferreira I mentioned, she's the one in charge of the case.'
Narang held out his paw. 'Meet Anita Raizada, our lead crime reporter.'
Pleasantries exchanged, coffees ordered, Narang produced the letter and SIM card he had received a few hours previously. Joshi, then Rita, read the letter holding it by its edges. Rita turned the phone at Joshi's desk towards her and called the Ops Room asking for someone to drop into Joshi's office ASAP.
'I'd like to send these for analysis without wasting another moment,' she explained, keeping the phone down.
What was she thinking — fingerprints on the envelope or the paper or the SIM? Did she really think this maniac killer was as dumb as to send his prints on any of these? What were gloves made for, after all?
There was a gentle tap on the door and Inspector Jatin Singh came in. Rita deluged him with the details and handed over the properties and packed him off to the laboratory. That, of course, didn't stop her from observing that he had keenly spotted Anita Raizada in the room. If he didn't notice her noticing him, it was his sheer inexperience. Rita didn't miss the attraction in Anita's eyes either, and that gave her the idea instantaneously. What if Anita was assigned to the case? It didn’t matter to the killer who got the news from the police and as for Narang — who cared what he might think or feel? The only catch was, could Jatin control the information or would Frankenstein take over? Could Anita manipulate?
'So,' Rita began, before anyone could, when Jatin left. 'What are your expectations?'
'I am a noble citizen, first, before I am a mediaperson. I want the police to take charge of the situation before I get the story.'
'Of course.' What a loser, Rita thought. 'It was good that you brought this note and the SIM to us. Thanks. Now, how can we help you?'
'I want to help you.'
'If the killer is going to contact you, like he said, then we need to be aligned. I want you to pass on all info you get, and we will tell you what you need to publish to get him to talk more.'
'You want to run my newspaper?' Narang shifted in his chair.
'Let me tell you something Mr Narang, and I will only tell you this once.' Rita changed her tone from polite to authoritative without looking at Joshi, who sat mutely, like a judge presiding over a case. 'If you print a single word without my permission, I'll be talking to you in a cell. You co-operate and we can sort out this mess, apprehend this killer and we are friends forever. Do I make sense?'
'Of course. I wasn't going to cause panic by publishing anything stupid.' Narang looked like a dejected student who had anticipated a pat on the back from the teacher for a job well done, but had got a slap instead. If he was upset, he didn't show.
'Good. Now, I propose we communicate regularly. Your crime reporter Miss Raizada shall work with us. We will divulge only as much as we think is required to keep the killer thinking he's getting publicity. It will serve your purpose and ours. We shall also hold press conferences and disclose the same to the rest of your fraternity, but, obviously, a few hours later, so the killer believes we are adhering to his demands.'
'I admire you DCP Ferreira, you've taken words out of my mouth.'
'Thanks. Anything else?'
'When do we start?' the eager beaver wanted to know.
Anita, too, wanted to know. Did she still need to sleep with Narang after this, now that the DCP had specifically outlined the plan with her in the picture.
'Someone will call you later.'
'Happy, Mr Narang?' Joshi concluded the meeting by standing up. Narang and Anita took the hint, got up and shook hands, exchanged smiles and geared up to leave.
The Ops Room was seething with uncertainties and questions when Rita walked in: Mathur & Mathur, Jatin, Vikram, Nene and the two sub-inspectors D'Souza and Anand. They hushed up.
Rita decided to prolong the misery of everyone present knowing Jatin would have, by now, revealed who he saw in Joshi's room.
Two minutes precisely.
'Is there anything we should know regarding your meeting with NEWS of the DAY ma'am?' Nene took the lead.
So she was right in her assessment. Jatin had let the cat out.
'In a minute, but before that,’ Rita turned to Jatin: 'Did the lab give you any time for when they'll give us the report on the material I gave you?'
'By the evening, I stressed the urgency.'
'Please inform me the moment we get them.' She addressed the entire group: 'The killer — of Lele and Suri — has sent a letter to NEWS of the DAY, along with the SIM card he had used to make the call to Suri, which, I presume, is to substantiat
e that his claim is genuine. We, no doubt, shall have that verified by our lab by the evening. As for finding any clues like fingerprints et cetera, it's highly unlikely, but maybe...'
'But, why would the killer give us information?'
Rita gave a rundown of her session with Dr Ash Mattel the evening before, highlighting cases where maniac killers had carried out such acts in the past, their hunger for admiration, recognition, and how that might give them away. 'We have, for that reason, settled on working in close partnership with NEWS of the DAY. The agreement we have is that we shall release unclassified information to them, before we give a general update on investigation to others, so that the killer believes we are adhering to his demands. We need to be exceedingly cautious in what we release; I don't expect him to be gullible enough to believe everything we give to his chosen media, so we will need to think smart to mislead him somehow. Don't ask me how, I don't know yet.'
'Why did he pick NEWS of the DAY?' Jatin, now, appeared confident; Anita and Narang's visit to Crawford Market was in no way connected to him.
'Well, it certainly confirms his shrewdness. He must have shortlisted tabloids that thrive on such news, then winnowed down on this one cause it’s run by an entrepreneur with dubious morals may I add, who would take the bait. I am sure if he had sent this to The Times of India, it wouldn't have found its way to Crawford Market in a matter of hours. That's how smart the killer is, he does his research, plans, executes without leaving any trace. That said, Inspector Nene — please run a check on Narang to see where he was on the nights of the murders.
‘As you can imagine, my confidence in Narang and his outfit is extremely low, to say the least. I want us to write this story, and not let Narang write anything we don't want him to. To avoid any miscommunication, only one of us will provide the measured drip-feed to his crime correspondent Miss Raizada. I do not want any slip-up here. If she tries to make contact with anyone else, please do not give any comments.'
'Who?' asked Jatin.
Really Jatin, did you really need to ask that question? 'You, of course.'
'Why me?'
'Because she trusts you. When she was looking for information, you were the one she contacted, so logically, if anyone of us is already in her good books, it's you Jatin.’