Dead in a Mumbai Minute (3 page)

Finally, after over an hour of doing nothing, Pranav Adlakha called me in to his room.

‘Welcome to the team,’ he said. Not exactly the smiling welcome I may have wished for, but better than before.

‘Thank you,’ I said.

‘I am not sure how much you know about Titanium’s Investigations department.’

‘Not a lot.’

‘It is small, as you can see. Shayak prefers to use freelancers when necessary, who have so far been sufficient.’

I felt once more like I had strayed in where I did not belong, and I couldn’t help but conclude that it was precisely the effect Adlakha was going for.

‘Shayak tells me you impressed him with your work in the Prakash Agarwal matter.’

Did I see the hint of a smile? I didn’t care; I flashed him one of my brightest. I wanted to start on the right foot; a little grumpiness wouldn’t put me off. ‘Thank you,’ I repeated.

‘But that doesn’t help me much,’ he said. ‘What Shayak has in mind for you, I can’t really say. And unfortunately he is not here. So what do I do with you now?’

The smile dropped off my face like a dead leaf from a branch in winter. ‘Shayak said that you had a couple of cases to brief me about,’ I said.

‘He did, did he?’ Adlakha watched me through his thick glasses, tapping his fingers on the table.

The helicopters returned to do sorties of my stomach, but I wasn’t going to flinch.

At last, he swung around in his chair and pulled some files out of a drawer.

‘Here are two matters that need looking into. Go through the paperwork and get back to me with your … thoughts.’

I took the files and left without a word.

I fought the growing feeling of dismay as I opened the first file. It was an infidelity case. The very sort I had been fleeing from, the very reason I had been willing to give up my practice in Calcutta, my freedom. Such as it had been.

Admittedly, the stakes in this business were higher. The husband, the client, was a star of the corporate world – Pratap Puri, self-made tech maven: driven, handsome, and now, obscenely rich. Why would any woman cheat on him?

Poonam, the wife, was a socialite, who ran a high-end boutique in Colaba but spent most of her time working with a number of charities.

The second case was straightforward enough: background checks on five new hires of a company; the company’s name was not deemed relevant – or withheld for security reasons.

I could go about both the matters in my own way, but I was sure in a place such as Titanium, things would be done differently. I knocked on Adlakha’s door.

‘I think I’ll start with the background checks. Are there any systems in place for such investigations?’ I asked.

‘You will find some forms and guidelines on the Intranet. If you need any logistic assistance, call Archana.’

‘And the infidelity matter?’

‘We seldom take on such cases. But I believe that is the kind of thing you excel at, so you are free to ferret out filth in the manner in which you are accustomed.’

I took a deep breath. I would not let him get to me. Not this fast. ‘Could I ask why we’ve taken the case then?’

‘Pratap Puri gives Titanium a lot of business through the year. And he’s a friend of Shayak’s.’

‘May I know what resources are available for surveillance?’ When I was working on my own, stakeouts were decidedly low-tech: for the most part, it was my eyes and my camera and my ass seated somewhere, watching and waiting. As unglamorous as it gets. But here, I had visions of satellite imaging, hacks and honey traps.

‘Puri has made it clear that he doesn’t want anything invasive.’

‘Yes, I saw that in the file. No bugs, no phone taps. Nothing that can be traced back to us – or him. What about cameras?’

His eyes finally betrayed a hint of amusement. ‘There you will not find Titanium wanting.’ He got up from his seat. ‘Follow me.’

He stepped outside the glass cubicle and used his swipe card to open a wooden door. We walked into a large storeroom, shelves burgeoning with untold treasures. ‘On the right is all the standard forensic gear you may need. For more advanced items, you’ll have to get in touch with Titanium’s specialized forensics team, which is the best in the country by some distance. They are on the fourth floor and you will need clearance to go up there. Here,’ said Adlakha, pointing to a shelf in front of us, ‘you’ll find all sorts of electronic tools. Much of this is out of bounds on this case, but there are many other toys you could play with. On the left are the more old-school aids, such as wigs, costumes and props.’

‘I can use whatever I want?’ I said, a little more wide-eyed than I would have liked.

‘As long as you send the requisition form to Admin. Once you are done, you return what you have taken to them. They will check it, sanitize it and put it back in the cupboard.’

Half an hour later, I had to tear myself from the buffet of goodies. There was nothing ‘standard’ about the forensic kits, as far as I could see. There was the best in fingerprinting material, plasters and moulds for shoe prints, pastes for gunshot holes, reagents to detect blood and gunshot residue, evidence collection bags, tweezers and the like. And then there was the fun stuff: all manner of hidden cameras – on pens, handbags, brooches and tiepins. Phone taps, wiretaps, jammers and recorders: it was Bug Central. Finally, tools of mass deception: wigs of every colour and style, prosthetic enhancements, glasses, sunglasses, coloured contact lenses, make-up, body suits, shoe insoles designed to alter gait. And it was all mine to play with, when the time was right.

Despite the lure of the super-spy supplies, I got down to work on the very mundane employee background checks. They were far more exhaustive than any I had done before. Credit history, family background, spouse checks, verification of academic and employment claims. There were a couple of great resources on the system: a contact directory which seemed to have every number you were guaranteed not to find in the phone book, and protocols for due diligence in identity verification. It seemed that this was an important part of Titanium’s business. I spent the next couple of hours making phone calls and sending out e-mails, but before long, I was stumbling over the forms. Rishi over at Tech had been right: I had never used a system quite as elaborate as this, and I needed a primer. I headed back up to see if someone was free.

Walking through the IT department for the second time that day, I was intensely aware of at least twenty pairs of eyes on me. I felt as though I had walked into a boys’ hostel.

‘Hi,’ I said. ‘Reema again from Investigations.’

‘I remember,’ said Rishi.

‘Do you have time for that lesson you promised me?’

‘Bring that chair around.’

I wheeled a chair beside Rishi.

‘Enter your username and password,’ he said.

‘I still haven’t changed it.’

‘No matter. But do it soon.’

Rishi quickly demo-ed the basic features I had already figured out: e-mail, messenger, file share. Then he came to the tools.

‘This is where it really gets interesting. It is designed so that everything is handled electronically and seamlessly, and yet with a surprising amount of flexibility.’

He showed me the human resource tools first: leave applications, pay slips, expense accounts, car requisition. Then he moved on to departmental needs.

‘Who you are and your level decide what parts of the system you get access to.’

‘I’m starting at the bottom of the heap?’

‘At Investigations, you are never really at the bottom. But yes, there are sections that can only be accessed by your boss or Mr Gupta himself.’

He showed me what I needed first, which was the material for background checks, then the surveillance guidelines and tools, equipment requisition, case report templates, cyber security checklists. The forms were also to be filled online, and made available to only those eyes that were meant to see it.

‘The tools are exhaustive and growing all the time,’ he said.

‘Is all of this really necessary?’ I asked.

‘It helps ensure the same standards are followed across the board, no matter who is on the job, and reduce paper waste and potential security breaches. But it’s all pretty user-friendly. You’ll get the hang of it soon.’

I nodded. All these rules were sure to be helpful. It was just that for someone like me, used to answering only to myself, it was a fundamental change, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

‘It can be a little overwhelming,’ Rishi continued. ‘So once a month or so, the boss usually has us hold a class for the freelancers.’

‘What about staff?’

‘Well, so far “staff” in Investigations means only Adlakha.’

‘He doesn’t come for your lessons?’

‘Not really, no.’

‘Well, I’ll be there.’

I thanked Rishi and got back to the real work at hand.

It was the past records of the candidates that gave me my first clue. They all had a security background. A couple were from the army, three from private firms. Which got me thinking: were they going to be employed by Titanium? Even if they were not, it was unlikely that a more lax set of checks was performed before in-house recruitment. Was such a comprehensive check also done on me?

I remembered what my occasional ally from Calcutta, fellow investigator Terrence D’Costa, had told me not so long ago: Titanium is a highly secretive organization that has changed the way the security business is conducted in India. Of course they would have checked me out. Shayak probably had his office get all he needed to know about me even before our second meeting. And before hiring me they would have reduced my life to an easily digested file in their database, down to which breakfast cereal I preferred.

And I had been so impressed that Shayak had known who I was, that he had read my little film reviews in the magazine I had been freelancing with and that he had actually remembered them. Now, holding the intimate life history of five complete strangers in my hands, I felt more than a little foolish.

Sohana was alone when I got home. ‘Where’s Dhruv?’ I asked.

‘We’re meeting him for drinks at Frodo’s. Time to celebrate your finally getting your ass to my town.’

‘Tomorrow’s only my second day. A little too soon to be showing up with a hangover, no? Can’t it wait till the weekend?’

‘Nothing in Mumbai waits for the weekend. Get used to a little bit of sleep deprivation.’

I knew further resistance was pointless, so I quickly got ready. As I ran a brush through my hair, Sohana came in with her hands full of glittery things that I stared at cluelessly.

‘You are wearing earrings,’ she announced.

‘My piercings are closed, I think.’

Her face contorted with disgust. ‘Something for the neck then.’

She held up two options; with overt reluctance but recognizing when I was beat, I chose the less spangly one.

She put it around my neck and then, with all the dexterity of a make-up designer, pulled out a lip gloss from the back pocket of her jeans and handed it to me. I puckered up and applied.

‘Was that really so bad?’ she asked.

‘Hey, I’ve been trying here! Haven’t you noticed?’

‘Yes, I am happy to see you have finally added some colour to your wardrobe. What came over you?’