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Authors: Ravi Subramanian

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54
4th June 2008

Boston

‘We will have to take it to the provost. With the dean no more, it falls under Gordon’s remit to take a decision on what he wants to do with this. So what if he is only a caretaker provost? If he doesn’t do anything, I will go up to Juan. At least, as the president of the institute, he will do something about it. This is ridiculous!’ Cardoza thundered. ‘How can someone who is dead be part of the research? He can’t fabricate data in such a brazen manner. Not at the level he is. This clearly demonstrates that he drastically changed the research just to make sure that the result he got was in line with what the NRA wanted.’

‘Slow, slow, Michael. I brought this to you not for you to jump at it. Remember you had said the last time around that if we take this up, we cannot fail. Didn’t you say that James has not submitted his data to the university? He technically doesn’t need to unless there is an investigation and he is specifically asked for it.’ Cardoza nodded. ‘I still stand by it.’

‘And Michael, even if James is asked for it, he can get away by not producing it, citing privacy, confidentiality and tens of other reasons.’

‘If so, then why go through the process of creating the data? Just create the end results. Period. Write a fictional research and call it science.’

‘There could be a background to this. Richard did the interviews at the first three sites. The results went against the NRA. Richard was the one who was slated to go to Boston state prison. He had arranged for everything. But he didn’t go. Windle says no one went. But if one were to believe the questionnaires that I have with me, Philip did the interviews there, the results of which are overwhelmingly in favour of gun rights. There is a serious disconnect here. What also surprises me is that after Vermont, Phoenix and Florida, Richard had not participated in data gathering in any other place. Obviously, he was kept out.’

‘What does it show?’

‘If I were Richard, I would be mighty peeved at being kept out. Richard too would have been. I believe that the data was created first to keep Richard happy, so that he felt that he was in control. Second, to keep people within the team happy and make sure they didn’t squeal to the outside world that the data was completely cooked, which normally happens when you have a dissatisfied soul on your team. And lastly, to anyone on the outside too, it would seem as if something serious was on. I checked this morning before coming to you. Both Caroline and Philip are no longer with the institute. They have left for greener pastures. Significantly richer too, I guess. So, I am reasonably confident my assessment is correct.’

‘Very possible. There could have been one more possibility, though.’ Cardoza was in a very agitated frame of mind and he was looking angry.

‘And that is …?’ Cirisha left the question hanging.

‘Maybe they did the prison interviews in most places. Remember, it’s almost impossible to get away by stating that they did the interviews all over the country, without actually doing any research interview whatsoever. Some jailor somewhere will stand up and scream that what’s stated in the research is false and that the interview in his prison, as mentioned in the book, never took place. My take, Cirisha, is that they would have done the interviews in most, if not all the prisons that they have mentioned in the book. After the interviews, they would have cooked up the data and falsified the questionnaire responses to suit their objective. In such an instance the chances of getting caught are minimal.’

‘Possible. In fact, what you are saying is more likely. These cooked-up questionnaires would then have been given to Richard for his assessment. But as far as Boston is concerned, we are sure the interviews never took place. We have to find out what actually happened.’

‘The only way out is to confront him. We can’t just keep it to ourselves. Let’s get the others involved in this.’

‘Don’t you think we must wait till we have multiple points of conflict? As of now, we are sure that the data reported out of Boston prison has been tampered with. Let’s do a sanity check on some more data points. I am sure even those will turn out to be false. We can confront him after that.’

‘I agree. But what’s the harm in talking to the provost? He can at least be sounded off.’ Cardoza reached for his telephone and asked Louisa to put him through to the provost’s office. Within thirty seconds, Louisa called back. ‘Gordon Meier is travelling. He is on vacation somewhere in Canada. He’ll be back only tonight. You want me to connect to his hand phone?’

Cardoza thought about it. ‘No, it’s all right.’ He looked at Cirisha and told her what Louisa had just said. ‘Gives us a little more time to think this through, I guess.’

‘Let’s build an airtight case, Michael.’

‘Hmm,’ Cardoza agreed.

‘I need your approval to travel to Phoenix for the next level of my verification.’

At that very instant, Cardoza’s phone rang. ‘Hi,’ he said into the receiver. There was a long pause. ‘Do you want me to come now? We can take him right away. Or do you think we can wait till later in the evening? I checked with the pharmacy, they have the medicines. I will get them on my way back.’ Again a long pause. ‘OK. I’ll try and come early.’

He kept the phone down and looked at Cirisha. ‘No problems about travel to Phoenix. Send me the bill.’

‘Thanks, Michael. I will leave tomorrow evening.’ Before she turned to leave, she couldn’t resist asking, ‘What happened, Michael? Who is unwell?’

‘Champ’s not been keeping too well. The vet saw him yesterday. He may not survive. I will leave early today. I need to pick up some medicines and injections on my way. It’s been upsetting me. Apologies if I sounded distracted.’

Cirisha knew how fond Cardoza was of Champ, his Dobermann. But Champ was over nine years old. At best he would live for another couple of years. Outside of work, Cardoza’s life revolved around Champ.

‘Let me know if I can do something for you.’

In the evening, out of courtesy, she checked with Cardoza. By the time he had got home with the medicines and injections, his wife had taken Champ to the hospital. Doctors were not hopeful of Champ living for more than a couple of weeks, at best. Cardoza had sounded quite distraught.

That night Shivinder called Aditya. It was a long call. After he put the phone down, Cirisha asked Aditya what the call was about.

‘Apparently the Economic Offences Wing of Mumbai Police reached him. He had been avoiding calls on his phone, but somehow they got his hotel address and called him on the hotel line. They wanted to know when he was coming back to India. They even briefed him on the charges mentioned in the FIR filed against him. He is in deep shit.’

‘So?’

‘He has spoken to Kali Fariman, one of the biggest lawyers in Mumbai, to represent him. Kali will go through the papers and advise him in the next couple of days. Shivinder has bought time. He has asked us not to talk to the police. They apparently told him that the additional commissioner of police from the Economic Offences Wing of Mumbai Police will be calling you tomorrow.’

‘Let them.’

‘Shivinder wants you to deny any knowledge of anything that he has done.’

‘And why does he think I will listen to him?’

‘He is not requesting.’

‘As in?’

‘He says he will make sure you don’t talk to them.’ Aditya was worried.

‘What the hell!’

‘He is a dangerous guy, Cirisha. I was mistaken. I should not have engaged with him. But now it’s becoming messy. If he goes down, he will take me down with him.’

‘Meaning?’ Cirisha was unsure if she had heard him right. Where did this come from? She anyway had enough on her plate.

‘I had advised him on some of the things that he did. We manipulated the balance sheets of Step Up Shoes in order to make it attractive for Snuggles to buy. We set up a fraudulent franchisee network, inflated sales, collected payments from dealers which were routed out of the country through GB2. If he goes to jail, he will make sure that I too go with him.’

Cirisha was flabbergasted. She just shook her head and threw her hands up in disdain. ‘Aditya! Please tell me you are kidding.’

‘No, Cirisha. I should have told you earlier.’ Aditya was ashamed of himself. For the first time, he genuinely regretted what he had done. But Cirisha was not willing to listen.

‘No, no, no … this is not possible. I can’t go wrong for the second time in a row. I always thought you were a good man. When GB2 sacked you, I thought it was a one-off mistake, but now it’s evident. You are a criminal. A habitual fraudster. All you men are. All of you. Oh my God …’ and she held her head in both her hands, elbows on her thighs, and started crying.

‘Cirisha. Please. It was a mistake. I will never do it again. I promise you.’ Aditya walked up to her and hugged her. She shook him off, stood up and slapped him across the face. It sent Aditya stumbling back a few steps.

‘You said the same thing before. How do I believe you? God only knows how many times you have lied to me.’ She continued sobbing. Aditya held her tight, but Cirisha didn’t care any more. And then, in one inspired moment, she looked up. ‘Go. Tell that friend of yours that I don’t care even if you are involved. I will tell the Mumbai Police everything that I know. I will not lie to them. Even if he exposes you as a result. My self-esteem and integrity are important to me. Probably more than they are for any man that I know.’ And she got up, walked straight to her room and slammed the door shut. It was the first night that the two of them were together under the same roof and Aditya slept on the couch.

The next morning, by the time he woke up, Cirisha had left. He tried calling her on her mobile a few times. She didn’t answer the call. He checked the garage, her car was not there.

‘She left very early and she looked upset. Did you guys have a fight?’ When Aditya turned back, Narayanan was standing right behind him.

‘No. Nothing serious. Just regular husband–wife stuff.’

55
5th June 2008, 10.45 a.m.

Boston

Cirisha had not returned. Calls to her phone had gone unanswered. It was very unlike Cirisha not to answer calls irrespective of how peeved she was.

A remorseful Aditya was standing in the lawn outside his house when two police cars came to a stop on the opposite side of the road. Three officers of the Boston Police Department got off, crossed the road with swift steps and walked towards him. Aditya was wondering why they were there when one of them called out to him, ‘Mr Raisinghania?’

‘Yes.’ Aditya’s heart skipped a beat. There was a tremor in his voice. ‘Is there a problem, officer?’ Was this the end of the road for him? Had Shivinder confessed to his involvement in the Snuggles scam?

‘We need you to come with us.’ When the officer said this, Aditya turned towards one of the cars parked on the other side of the road. Another deep-blue SUV had just driven in and come to a halt behind the police car. The doors opened and two people stepped out.

When Aditya saw Antonio and Cardoza come out of the car, he knew something had gone horrifically wrong. And when they told him what had happened, he knew his worst fears had come true.

Earlier that morning, the cries of a few women returning from their early-morning jog at the Boston Public Garden drew the attention of a few people, who hurried towards them. In no time, a crowd gathered around. Thankfully, one of the passers-by was a medic. He felt the pulse, looked at the dilation of the pupils, tried to listen to the heartbeat. But the body bore no signs of life. The person lying on the ground was dead. There were no physical injuries on the body to suggest murder. Probably a tired jogger who had suffered a cardiac arrest while jogging.

911 was called. The cops arrived with the paramedics in the next fifteen minutes and the body was wheeled away to a nearby hospital. The victim was declared ‘brought dead’. A few credit cards found in the waist-pouch of the victim had helped identify her.

The name on all the cards was: Cirisha Narayanan.

56
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