Dead in a Mumbai Minute (34 page)

Ordinarily I would have called in reinforcements – armed reinforcements – to scope out the place. But I didn’t have good information – and it definitely was not enough to put both myself and Vinod at risk.

In the absence of Titanium’s long arm, I would have to work smart. I went back again to that whispered conversation on the island, and the bridge that had been built between Parashar and Dhingre at the intervention of the newspaper, which had prompted Dhingre’s desperate measures to protect an unreceptive Kimaaya. ‘Shakuntala,’ I said, ‘would it be possible to bring in Bindu Bisht?’

‘Why?’

‘She is holding a piece to this puzzle. I can’t tell you more than that right now.’

She nodded and made the call. ‘My office, 6 pm,’ she told me, striding off.

SEVENTEEN

‘Q
uite a piece of work, this George Santos,’ Terrence said as I walked in. ‘Guru for all seasons. Spiritual, corporate, relationship – he seems to have an answer for everything.’

‘Who is he?’ I asked.

‘No one seems to be clear about that. British expat. Has lived around the world according to various interviews, and was a regular in the Goa 1970s scene in his youth. He only settled down there in the past few years, during which time he has been doing the rounds of the Goa-Mumbai celebrity circuit. Everyone who wants to be anyone goes to him for these transformational workshops he holds at his retreat.’

‘What is he selling?’

‘Enlightenment.’

‘God man-style?’

‘He leaves God out of it. His focus is on self-awareness in “all its many facets”, cutting through all the bull that holds us back from becoming our best self.’

‘Jeez. Where does he fit into our picture?’

‘Adil Khan met him while researching a role he had a couple of years ago.’

That still didn’t explain how Afreen fit in. ‘Anything about Afreen and Adil, or George?’ Mona aka Miss Sara had mentioned a sugar daddy who helped her get her break. Could that be George?

‘There is nothing on her. But she would be too small a name to be mentioned in any of these puff pieces.’

I turned to Neeraj. ‘Anything from Afreen’s mail that can shed light?’

He shook his head. ‘She doesn’t seem to have been much of an electronic communicator.’

‘Nothing on Santos?’

‘Nope. Not much of anything except e-mail forwards, spam and those strange mails I told you about.’

‘Can I see them?’

Neeraj pulled up a file.
‘He expects your loyalty. Answer your phone. Reply to this mail. Anything to prove your commitment.’

And the next morning:
‘What is happening out there? What do you know? If you don’t respond, expect a visit.’

A visit – and a threat. ‘Run a search for Bindu Bisht and George.’

‘Coming up.’

What he found was not just any article but an experiential narrative of a week in a workshop with George. I skimmed through it and learned how he was surrounded by celebrities in search of self-discovery, foreign patrons who had given up on raves in favour of finding the path to their ‘best self ’, sporting the latest designer resort wear and chowing down detox food – organic, of course. It was eastern exotica meets western self-help set against a deliciously luxe backdrop. And Bindu Bisht had signed up for the full package.

‘Yes, I know George Santos. So does half of Mumbai.’

Bindu was seated before Shakuntala and me, in the editor’s office. She was right too: the part of Mumbai in which Bindu moved was Santos’ happy hunting ground.

‘Somehow, Bindu, you have a connection with a number of elements of this case,’ I said. ‘I am just trying to understand them.’

‘What are you going on about?’ she said with a wave of the hand. Gone was Bindu’s veneer of decency; she had no time for me or my questions.

‘You were acquainted with Ashutosh Dhingre, a fact that Shakuntala leveraged to verify explosive information, making you one of the very few people who knew Kimaaya’s secrets before they were printed in the paper.’

‘Yes, I was at the meeting.’

‘And you also know George Santos, who is somehow connected to Afreen.’

‘She was one of his many students.’

‘Did he get her the role in the MTM film?’

‘It’s possible.’

‘What was he? Her sugar daddy?’

Bindu laughed. ‘George doesn’t need to sleep with two-bit starlets.’

‘So he did it out of the kindness of his heart?’

‘More likely a favour for someone.’

‘And you wouldn’t happen to know who that someone might be?’

‘No.’

‘It was you who mentioned to George this information about Kimaaya, which is how he knew about it before it made its way into the paper.’

‘Definitely not.’ Her outrage seemed like it might be genuine.

I changed course. ‘George asked you to visit Maaya Island to remind Afreen what she owed him.’

Bindu had a pretty game poker face, but even she couldn’t conceal her surprise at this.

‘That was nothing, just a message delivered,’ she said at last.

‘He wanted to know what was happening on that island. Why do you think that is?’

‘He didn’t tell me any of that! He just said that he was expecting a call from Afreen and was annoyed at not having heard anything.’

‘So annoyed that he had to send you to make contact? That didn’t strike you as suspicious?’

‘I was going to meet Kimaaya anyway. This was just one more reason to make the trip.’

‘Bindu, I think you can be a little more helpful than that,’ said Shakuntala.

‘Look, as far as I know, the only thing connecting George and Afreen is this film he is helping Adil make.’

‘George is the producer?’

‘No, but he is involved somehow. You really should be asking him these questions, not me.’

‘Did he say why he wanted you to send this message?’

‘He only said he needed to know what was going on, that he wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important. He couldn’t go himself as he was in Europe then.’

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘As is the rest of the world. He’s been delivering talks around the globe that are being streamed live online. When we talked, he said he was in Germany somewhere.’

‘But I met him on the set soon after.’

‘He must have got back subsequently.’

‘You took it as a matter of course that he would call you from overseas to go have a chat with a perfect stranger on his behalf?’

‘Not a matter of course, no, but also not a matter of murder.’

I would check his tour dates, but I didn’t doubt Bindu’s words, nor did it really matter where George was. Even if he

Once home, it didn’t take long to confirm that George had just returned from Zurich the night before we met. The days of the Dhingre and Afreen murders, he was in Berlin and Paris respectively.

‘Neeraj,’ I said, ‘I need something more on this man.’

‘Permission to hack?’ he said.

‘Need you ask at this point?’

‘Enough said.’

After a few minutes, Neeraj turned to me. ‘It’s the strangest thing,’ he said. ‘George Santos’ digital life is harder to breach than a jail.’

‘So not very hard,’ Terrence laughed.

‘I thought he had no website?’

‘That’s true, but that doesn’t mean he has no presence online.’

‘And you can’t get into it?’

‘It’s taking more time than usual. And what I am seeing are sophisticated defences.’

‘How sophisticated?’

‘Very. And they seem familiar. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen them before.’

‘Where?’

‘Coincidentally, when I was working with Titanium, ramping up their security about a year ago.’

‘What does that mean?’ I asked.

‘I think these safeguards were created by the same person.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘The code is not generic, and it is fairly distinctive. I have never seen it aside from these two occasions.’

‘Is it good?’

‘Yes, very.’

‘Unbreachable?’

Neeraj grinned. ‘If it were, would I have been called in by Titanium to improve upon it?’

‘Why did that happen, exactly?’

‘Of course I wasn’t privy to specifics, but I was told that there had been leaks to do with confidential information.’

‘Was the source of the leak ever identified?’

‘From what I gathered, no. But they wanted to ensure defences were in place.’

‘Is there any way of finding out whether there were any incursions into the system recently?’

‘We would have known. I’ve set it up that way.’

‘How about attempted incursions?’

‘That is trickier. The system might catch it, but a smart hacker might be able to get away with it.’

‘Can you look for anything, red flags of any kind, in the past month?’

‘Believe me, I’m already on it. I want to know if my fortress has been breached as much as anyone. But it will take time.’

‘Have you taken a closer look at the gun requisition and e-mail to the captain?’

‘Next on the list,’ said Neeraj.

‘Take a few hours of downtime. Go home. I’ll check in with you first thing tomorrow.’

I had barely surfaced the next morning when my phone rang. It was Vinod to tell me Archana needed him in office and that he would be reporting after noon.

I pottered around the kitchenette for a while before calling Neeraj to see if he had anything new. ‘Hope I didn’t wake you.’

‘Nope. I’ve been up all night and your hunch was right – there have been a number of attempts to breach Titanium’s system in the past month.’

‘What do you know?’

‘It happened over a period of time and the digital pathway is not the same, nor is it clear. But what puzzles me is that these attempts should have been spotted.’

‘Have the safety mechanisms been compromised?’

‘Must have been, or else reports of these breaches should have been sent to both Shayak and me. They were attempts to get into highly classified files. What exactly is the content of the files is information I cannot access.’

I would bet anything that they were pertaining to Titanium’s defence projects. ‘So this was a sophisticated, concerted effort?’

‘Undoubtedly.’

‘One that would require intensive work and deep knowledge?’

‘Yes.’

‘From a hacker like yourself?’

‘
Like
me. Yes. And I can tell you that the gun requisition was sent from Shayak’s user ID, though not from his computers at office or home. And the tampered email had the same source.’

I closed my eyes. Words I heard not long ago came back.
The soul of a hacker.
I opened them when I heard the ping of new mail and saw a message from Shayak’s mail ID.

‘Plot no. 8, Shantinagar, beside Paras Hills Food Factory. Meet me there at 10 am.’

‘Neeraj, I’ll have to get back to you,’ I said.

Had Shayak been released? I tried calling his number; it was switched off. Even though Ajay had made it clear that he was not an ally when it came to this case, I tried his number repeatedly but it rang out. Either he was indisposed or he was screening my calls.

I had to act fast. If Shayak wanted to meet at Paras Hills food factory, he must have a lead on Prashant Parashar’s kidnapper – most likely our murderer. I looked at my watch. I had only about ninety minutes to get there. I cursed my luck – to not have Vinod at a time like this was not ideal. When I couldn’t reach Archana either I gave my phone a good shake to make sure it wasn’t playing tricks on me.