Authors: S. Hussain Zaidi
All of them then stormed the jail and rushed towards cell number 1 on the ground floor of the lock-up, where Reshim had been detained. Vijay used the hammer he was carrying to break the lock of the cell. At first thinking someone was making a bid to break him out of prison, Reshim was horrified when he saw Vijay rush towards the door of the cell and savagely attack the lock. He backed up against the wall of the cell when Vijay fired. Three shots hit Reshim hard, at once, and he was dead before he hit the ground. Fury seized Vijay. It could not be! He could not allow Reshim to die such a quick, painless death. He took his hammer and began to attack Reshim’s head till his skull turned to pulp, continuing long after it was possible for Reshim could feel the pain. All that remained of Reshim’s head was a mash of brain mixed with bits of bone, splattered across the cold, stone floor of the cell.
The police officials at the scene were shell-shocked, rendered motionlessness. They later recalled Vijay shouting each time he raised the hammer, ‘
Mazha naav Vijay Utekar aahe
[my name is Vijay Utekar]!’ It seemed as though each blow was to ensure Reshim learnt a lesson he would never forget though the man was long gone beyond the purview of mortal pain or comprehension.
Riding on the satisfaction of having been avenged, Vijay escaped from the prison with his accomplices. The two taxis outside served their purpose and the four vanished into the darkness of the night, but not into oblivion.
It was over within a few minutes. Senior Inspector Madhukar Zende, who was in charge of the Agripada Police Station, arrived at the lock-up and began to take down all details and make up a
panchnama
(report). Zende found five live bombs and some bullets in the lock-up. Police constable Ahire and others were sent to the JJ Hospital, as was the badly shattered corpse of Babu Reshim for a postmortem. Ahire succumbed to his injuries after a few hours. Witnesses, who included police constables and other d
é
tenus, identified two of the miscreants as Vijay and his accomplice Keshava.
The next morning, there was a huge uproar. Who would ever have imagined that a convict would be murdered so brutally inside a prison? The newspapers were full of outrage at Utekar’s actions. The government immediately responded by setting up a commission to investigate the events of that night. As it always happens in the wake of such events, even the public was shaken out of its reverie and driven to censure. But even after this, there was no real action. As always, it seemed that the persons who took action were completely different from those who were elected to act. Moreover, Utekar had not killed someone known to be a saint; rather, he had helped rid the city of some scum.
But the police had not forgotten the insult; someone had challenged their absoluteness. After that day, Vijay Utekar was hunted like an animal and for him, no place was safe enough. Everywhere he went, the police were only two steps behind him. Now that the act had been committed, his former protectors and supporters were no longer ready to be associated with him for fear of being implicated. Every door closed in his face and Vijay Utekar was on his own, running for his life.
As Wu Ch’I, an official of the Ch’ing period, is known to have said: ‘Now the field of battle is a land of standing corpses; those determined to die will live; those who hope to escape with their lives will die.’After having survived the storming of the prison, Vijay believed he was invincible and was actually under the illusion that he would come out standing. But his optimism was foolhardy. He was finally cornered at a hotel in Dadar in October that same year, by cops Vasant Dhoble and Kishore Phadnis, who disguised themselves as milkmen. They entered the hotel and as Vijay tried to flee, he was shot dead. A bag full of bombs was said to have been found in his possession.
The case that had shaken up the entire police administration had finally culminated with the encounter of Vijay Utekar. The police had gotten their way and eliminated him. It is uncommon for the police to rely on the judiciary for justice in these matters. Moreover, with Utekar it was personal. Not only had he broken into a prison, the last bastion of the police, but he had also killed an officer on duty.
There was only one punishment for this crime: execution. Some rules never change.
Jagdish Khandwal, Kishore Maheshkar, Ravi Grover, and Raju Shankar were also eventually arrested. The case seemed to be an open and shut one. However, strangely, the case registered against Vijay Utekar and others was filed under sections 123 and 87; for murder and rioting. No action was taken to book them for storming a prison and attacking an undertrial or police officials for that matter. Of the four accomplices who were taken to court, Jagdish Khandwal was discharged from the case for lack of evidence and the remaining three were sentenced to life by the sessions court. However, on filing a subsequent appeal in the high court, all three were acquitted. Vijay Utekar was the only one who was martyred at the altar of Reshim’s rival gangs. This story was to set a precedent in the history of gang war in the city.
Much later when the dust was beginning to settle, the
khabri
(information) network went into overdrive over the person who had played the most pivotal role in the entire incident, who had remained camouflaged: Dawood Ibrahim Kaskar. It was said that Dawood had arranged for the entire spectacle while coolly taking a backseat himself, enjoying the proceedings from afar. It is always in the squabble of the monkeys that the cat gets away.
A police dossier states, ‘When the fact that Dawood had masterminded the killing of Babu Reshim came to light, the enmity between Dawood and Rama Naik/Arun Gawli groups increased.’
While the police could not substantiate this with evidence, the story soon broke. Everyone now knew of the treacherous nature of Dawood’s machinations. He had used Vijay Utekar as a mere pawn in his bid to oust Babu Reshim, and he had succeeded.
4
End of Dawood-Gawli Alliance
U
nlike Babu Reshim’s killing while in lock-up, Rama Naik’s elimination could not be camouflaged as a police encounter. Arun Gawli had managed to see the strategic and systematic weakening of his gang by Dawood Ibrahim. Dawood, who claimed innocence in both killings, had obliterated the B and R of the infamous troika of BRA gang in two cruel strokes. Now, Gawli remained the only surviving member of the trio.
He began to regroup and strengthen his fledgling gang. Gawli’s Maharashtrian boys had a presence in three pockets of the city: Kanjurmarg in the northeastern suburbs as Gawli had worked in a company there and had developed local contacts, Tulsiwadi in Tardeo and Dagdi Chawl, and Peon chawls in Byculla (in central Bombay), where he and his men— Ashok Joshi, Sada Pawle known as Sada Mama, Ganesh Tandel alias Vakil, Raju Mirashi, and Sunil Ghate—lived. At the time, Gawli’s gang was the only one which boasted of two Christian sharpshooters, both of them known for their ruthlessness and slavish loyalty to Gawli: Raju Phillips and Paul Newman. Not the Hollywood actor, though, just your plain old Mumbaikar from Goa.
Gawli decided to zero in on Dawood’s top confidantes in the city, those who still generated income for him. Soon, he pinpointed Satish Raje as one such trusted aide, a man who handled several major operations of the gang. It was certain that Raje’s killing would cause a severe setback to Dawood’s operations in the city. So, it was unanimously decided that Raje must die as a payback for Naik and an elaborate plan was hatched.
Raje was well aware of the fact that it was not an easy task to be Dawood’s aide de camp in Bombay in his absence, seeing as his boss had left behind several groups of his bloodthirsty enemies. These deadly enemies included the Pathans and minions of Mastan. The threats of Bashu Dada and Abdul Kunju in the Chembur area were still not ruled out entirely since Dawood’s relocation to Dubai. Moreover, he had become complacent and had been recklessly taking on his enemies. Raje inherited not only these ongoing rivalries but also a growing sense of insecurity from myriad gangs in the city.
Being a mafia man and one of Dawood’s sharpshooters, Raje was intimate with the intricacies of mafia killings. Two shooters follow their quarry’s car, halt it next to the car at a signal, point the gun, shoot mindlessly, and scurry off. This was the general modus operandi of most killings. Raje got himself a heavily fortified car with tinted black glasses and always sat in the middle of the rear seat with two bouncers on either side of him and one more in the front seat. He felt secure with this arrangement, but he forgot that security has failed many a target: even the president of the United States or Indian prime ministers can be killed if the killers are determined enough.
And these were determined men. Gawli and his men, which included Sada Pawle, Vijay Tandel, Paul Newman, Ganesh Vakil, and other boys from Dagdi Chawl, followed Raje from his den in Parel and decided to strike near Nagpada junction on 21 November 1988. When Raje’s car reached the Mazgaon-Nagpada junction, two cars intercepted it. The plan was made with elaborate precision and with utmost care to complete the killing in less than a minute.
Before Raje’s bouncers could get even a whiff of his assailants’ plans, three hammers shattered the windowpanes of the car. Until then, hammers were not used in encounters in Bombay. Newman honed in on Raje, spotting him in between his bouncers, while others, as per instructions, kept the bouncers engaged. Nine bullets were pumped into Raje, leaving him dead on the spot along with his three bouncers.
The killing completely rattled Dawood. Not only had he lost his top man on home turf, Gawli had managed to kill a much-protected fox like Raje swiftly, reacting within months.
With this move, Gawli had declared war against Dawood. Now, he just could not be ignored. Dawood immediately assigned the task of avenging Raje’s killing to his Man Friday, Rajan. Rajan’s brief was clear: settle the score within a few days and cause greater damage to Gawli.
Rajan immediately began to scout for bigger wickets amongst the members of Gawli’s gang. Finally, he zeroed in on Ashok Joshi, who was almost like an elder brother to Gawli. Rajan then bribed Joshi’s driver Shyamsunder Nair, who tipped him off about Joshi’s movements.
The trap was laid near the exurb of Panvel. Within fifteen days, Rajan activated his best shooters Sautya and Wangya.
It was a chilly night on 3 December 1988. Shyamsunder Nair smiled to himself as he drove his master, gangster Ashok Joshi, and three of his fellow gangsters towards Pune. While Joshi was engaged in conversation with the other occupants of the car, only Nair knew that a hit squad of fifteen men from Joshi’s rival Dawood Ibrahim Kaskar’s gang was on its way to intercept the vehicle.
The hit squad was led by Rajendra Nikhalje alias Chhota Rajan, who was still with Dawood at the time. He left his Tilak Nagar residence and was joined by Sautya, regarded by some as the Chhota Shakeel of the eighties. Sautya was armed with an AK-47 assault rifle and fifteen automatic handguns. Others joined the duo on the way, including Jayendra alias Bhai Thakur from Virar. The guns were distributed as the five cars sped towards Pune.
Nair had recently switched loyalties and had informed the rival camp of Joshi’s plans to go to Pune that night. Wasting no time, Dawood, who had been aching to eliminate Joshi, ordered Rajan to ensure that Joshi was killed on the way.
The bloody face-off occurred near Panvel, where the attacking cars surrounded Joshi’s car and the assailants jumped out. Joshi, who had for some time begun to suspect Nair, immediately recognised his treachery, drew his gun, and shot Nair through the head, cursing.
The shot elicited a volley of bullets from Rajan and his men, and Joshi’s car was riddled with countless rounds. Blood and flesh splattered the interior of the car, and Joshi and his three henchmen were killed on the spot. Within seconds, Rajan sped away with his men as the car slowly fell apart, after having been hammered by their bullets.
With this killing, the battle lines were clearly drawn between two erstwhile friends, both wanting to prove their supremacy. The think tanks of both gangs began to plot each other’s downfall, drawing up lists of probable targets.
And then began a violent and unabated chain of bloodletting. Hoteliers, financiers, gang sympathisers, financiers, and supporters on each side were eliminated with impunity. Bombay’s police were reduced to mere spectators though a section of the top brass believed it was good that the gangsters were killing each other and thus reducing the number of outlawed people. What they did not realise was that the escalating law and order situation had rendered the common man vulnerable and the city unsafe. And as this spate of gang violence rocked the city, the mafia stooped to a new low and violated its own cardinal principles.
Family’s blood is sacred and should never be spilled, howsoever bitter the animosity between the two warring groups, was a key tenet of mafia rule in Bombay. Family members who were part of the mafia gang were excluded from amnesty but the mafia never targeted those who were not involved in the murky business of organised crime.
Now, Dawood knew that Gawli did not have brains of his own. Earlier he had thrived on the cunningness of Rama Naik and Babu Reshim and when both of them had been killed, Gawli took Ashok Joshi as his mentor. After Joshi’s killing, Gawli consulted his older brother, Papa Gawli. Gawli rarely left Dagdi Chawl but Papa Gawli walked on the street without reserve. Papa assumed that Dawood upheld the decree of mafia ethics and would not target him.
On 22 January 1990, Dawood’s newly hired sharpshooter followed Papa Gawli to Sitladevi temple at Mahim and shot him dead. For the purveyors of death, a lifeless body is just another casualty. But Papa Gawli was a different ballgame. While Rama Naik’s killing shattered Gawli, who lost a mentor, it was Papa Gawli’s death that put him on a sticky wicket in his home turf.