A Cut-Like Wound (27 page)

FRIDAY, 19 AUGUST

It was a little past 5 p.m. at Gujri Gunta. In a little teashop he had identified in the row of shops, Santosh sat biding his time. If you wait long enough, everything you want will
come to you, his father often said. Santosh hoped that at least this time his father would be proved right.

The teashop was hot and stuffy. But it was perfectly located, just about 50 metres from the corporator’s main gate and at an oblique angle. At 5 p.m., Head Constable Gajendra’s watch would get over and it would be Santosh’s turn. But first, Gajendra would join him at the teashop and brief him on what had transpired during his watch.

Santosh had worked out an elaborate plan. First a car, an old Maruti 800, had spluttered to a halt at about 2 p.m. Then Head Constable Gajendra had appeared in mufti, riding a moped. He was the mechanic trying to figure out what had caused the car to stall. ‘There’s nothing wrong with the car,’ Santosh had briefed him. ‘But if someone asks, say that it has engine trouble and if they’re still persistent, you can add a dead battery too.’

‘Who’s going to ask?’ Head Constable Gajendra asked. He stuck his little finger in his ear and shook it furiously.

‘The watchman, perhaps. Or passers-by.’ Santosh shrugged. ‘You remember what you have to do, don’t you?’

Head Constable Gajendra nodded. ‘Yes, watch who is coming and going. But you do realize that it is a corporator’s home. All kinds of people will walk in and out all day…’

Santosh’s mouth twisted. It was a grimace he had acquired from Gowda. ‘I do,’ he said. The grimace said the rest.

Head Constable Gajendra looked at his face in amusement. ‘Where did you get that from? Inspector Gowda? Ha! I hope you have picked up a few more things from him apart from that!’

Santosh turned on his heel and walked away fuming.
What was this? A station or a mad house? Every creature here was a specimen of some sort.

T
he corporator spotted the car a little past 3 p.m., when he stepped out into the balcony on a whim. The goddess had been not easy to appease that day. She seemed reluctant to bestow her powers on him. And Rupali and Nalini hadn’t been able to come. They were both unwell, Akka had said, and instead two others had come. They were competent, but the goddess needed more than mere competence. She demanded brilliance. So when the puja was complete, he had felt a great urge to step out and draw in deep lungfuls of air. An iron band seemed to constrain his chest, and a certain weariness.

It was then that he saw the car. A mechanic was sitting beside it, deep in thought. The corporator went back in. He would take a little nap, he decided.

An hour later, the car was still there and so was the mechanic. He went in and called the watchman. ‘What’s wrong with that car?’

‘I checked, Anna,’ the watchman said. ‘Something’s wrong with the engine. The mechanic’s waiting for a part, he said.’

The corporator nodded. He called King Kong. ‘There’s a car opposite our gate. It’s been there for a while now. The mechanic claims he’s waiting for a part. It’s a Maruti 800, not a BMW. What part takes that long? Tell him to shift the car soon if it doesn’t arrive,’ he ordered.

A little past 5 p.m., when the corporator set out for a meeting in Jayamahal, the car was gone. But something rankled. Something wasn’t in its place. He pulled out his cell phone and called the watchman. ‘Don’t let anyone
park anywhere near our gates. And if you spot anything suspicious, call me…’

Chikka looked at his brother. ‘What was that about?’

‘Don’t know why, but something tells me that the car parked by our gate this afternoon was no random occurrence. I think we are being watched.’

Chikka stiffened. ‘Who could it be?’

The corporator’s mouth spread in a mirthless smile. ‘One thing I don’t lack is enemies. It could be anybody. Jackie Kumar’s men, Chicken Razak’s men, some overenthusiastic newspaper reporter, the Crime Branch – I hear Ramachandra has made a complaint and asked for police protection after his dog was found with its throat slit … so you see, it could be anybody. In the last week, I have added six more people to the list who would like to see me dead or behind bars at least!’

‘Anna,’ Chikka said, taking his brother’s hand between his palms, ‘maybe it’s time to stop. Don’t we have enough and more to keep us going? Do you need to live a life like this? Not knowing who’s going to take a supari out on you.’

The corporator patted his brother’s hand. ‘You worry too much. No contract killer’s going to get me.’ He withdrew his hand from Chikka’s clutch. ‘Besides, there is no going back now. Once you are in, there is no way out. It was a choice the goddess guided me towards. She will watch out for me.’

Chikka looked down. He didn’t dare talk to his brother when he was in this mood. What about me? he wanted to ask. Who’s going to watch out for me?

S
antosh took the glass tumbler of tea and blew into it noisily. ‘I’ll have one of those,’ he said, gesturing to a bun encrusted with red and green bits of candied fruit.

He bit into the bun. It was stuffed with shredded coconut and sugar. He took a sip of tea. Something akin to contentment settled in him. Now, if only Gajendra would have something worthwhile to report.

Gajendra walked in, wiping his face with an enormous handkerchief. ‘Why do we have to do this, sir?’ he said wearily. ‘The CCB is handling the case. Why do we need to get involved?’

‘Sit down, Gajendra,’ Santosh murmured. He turned to the teashop owner. ‘One tea.’ And then looking at Gajendra, he asked, ‘Do you want a bun?’

‘I want a bath,’ Gajendra grumbled.

‘And a bun.’ Santosh gestured to the teashop owner.

‘What happened?’ Santosh asked, his eyes fixed on the corporator’s gate.

‘Nothing. The watchman wanted to know what was wrong. Then, an hour later, he said the corporator wanted the car moved. It is a no-parking zone apparently. All rubbish! As if I don’t know whether it’s a no parking zone or not…’ Gajendra chewed on his bun hungrily. ‘This is rather good. I haven’t eaten it before.’

Santosh sighed. ‘Did you make a list of everyone who came and went?’

Gajendra pulled out a sheet of paper. ‘Here.’

Santosh scanned the list. He took a deep breath. ‘Look, you need to be here for some more time. I’ll be back at about half past six. Once it’s dark, it will be easier for me to blend with the surroundings.’

‘You want me to wait here,’ Gajendra spluttered. A mouthful of crumbs landed on the table.

‘This isn’t a game, Gajendra.’ Santosh stood up and drew himself to his full height. ‘This is official. You are on surveillance duty. So…’

‘Inspector Gowda…’ Gajendra began.

‘Don’t even think about it. He knows. He is the one who ordered it in the first place. So if you think Inspector Gowda is going to let you go home, forget it.’

Santosh walked to the end of the road, deep in thought. His bike was parked in a by-lane.

Where was Gowda? There hadn’t been a single call from him in the last one hour.

G
owda sat across from Urmila, sipping a mocktail in the piazza. He looked around him with interest. When she had mentioned that they could meet at UB City, he hadn’t objected or suggested another venue. It was best they meet in a public place and no one from Gowda’s world was likely to go to UB City. At least, not on a Friday evening.

‘I’ll be in the piazza,’ Urmila had said on the phone.

‘The what? Did you say pizza?’ Gowda had waggled a finger in his ear.

‘No, you nut,’ Urmila had giggled. They were nineteen all over again. ‘The piazza.’

‘What’s that?’

‘It just means an open square… in Italian,’ she said.

‘Fine, I’ll see you in pizza piazza whatever…’

And so here they were in the piazza, Urmila in a short white kurta and blue harem pants and wearing a strangely familiar-looking turquoise-blue bead necklace.

‘Do you like it?’ Urmila asked.

Gowda took a large sip of his Coco Colada. ‘It would be better if there was a shot of white rum in it. This is plain pineapple juice.’

‘I did ask you if you wanted a glass of white wine.’

‘I can’t drink while I am on duty,’ he said.

She stirred her drink and peered at him. ‘So you think this is duty?’

He looked away. Oh no, there she went again.

‘Look, Urmila,’ he said, ‘I said I am still on police duty.’

She giggled. ‘You are so easy to rile, Borei. I am just pulling your leg. Come on, lighten up. It’s such a lovely evening!’

‘It is,’ Gowda said quietly. He should be enjoying this little sojourn into posh life. Lean back in his chair and watch the world pass by. Only, his world wasn’t this and he couldn’t stop wondering what Santosh and Gajendra had discovered during the course of their surveillance.

‘Am I seriously out of shape?’ he asked suddenly.

She narrowed her eyes. ‘Nothing a few sessions at the gym won’t sort out… and less of that chilli chicken and rum.’

Gowda sighed deeply.

‘Come on,’ Urmila said, standing up. ‘I want to show you something. Leave that drink… you can have a proper one after seven p.m. You go off duty then, don’t you?’

Gowda rose and walked with Urmila. He felt a few curious glances come their way. Urmila fitted in here amidst all the foreigners and upwardly mobile people. He stuck out. Then as now, he knew that no matter what Urmila claimed, they didn’t belong together.

‘Where are you taking me?’ he asked.

‘Do you remember this?’ she said, tapping the bead necklace around her neck. ‘You brought this for me from
Delhi when you went for the intercollegiate games. All those years ago, Borei. I never bought you a thing. Ever. So, now it’s my turn.’

Gowda swallowed. They were standing outside the Montblanc showroom.

‘But this is silly. It was so long ago and a trifle. I can’t accept this,’ Gowda growled. A Montblanc pen! If someone saw him with it, they would think he was on the take.

‘But you collect pens, Borei!’ Urmila tugged at his elbow.

‘Not expensive pens,’ Gowda said, pulling back. ‘And I don’t really collect in that sense.’

‘Don’t lie, Borei. Your son said you do. And Santosh said the one thing you do like is pens.’

‘All rubbish.’

Her face fell. She squared her shoulders and turned on him furiously. ‘Why won’t you let me buy you a pen? What’s the big deal? Or, are you worried that if you take something from me, you will be beholden?’