Murder with Bengali Characteristics (20 page)

BOOK: Murder with Bengali Characteristics
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‘Yes, buy up all the fish,’ said the Governor. ‘This is a classic case of the haves and the have-nots. Some people have fish. Other people don’t have fish. Send out teams with trucks and buy up all available fish everywhere. Once no one has any fish, everyone will be equal. This is the basic principle behind communism. We must go back to communism, Ganguly. We must go back to our roots, because without our roots, we are nothing. Also, please give away all my money to deserving charities. My bank passwords are written down on a small slip of paper in my top right-hand side drawer. Memorize all the numbers and swallow it.’

‘Are you sure, sir?’ asked Ganguly.

‘Of course I’m sure. It’s the right thing to do. Sell all my property too.’ A toilet flushed, long and lavishly. ‘Look!’ said the Governor. ‘My hat is waterproof! I put my head in the toilet and pulled the flush, and nothing happened! I still have that pleasant buzzing in my head! Did you give away my money yet?’ The toilet flushed again. ‘Whee!’ said the Governor.

The revenge of Crazy Wu was a terrible thing to behold.

Ganguly walked away from the bathroom door thoughtfully. There was nothing further he could do to serve this administration. Its tenure was evidently coming to an end. Luckily, after the last war, he had ordered the construction of luxurious radiation-proof bunkers for all government officers of the rank of Joint Secretary and above, complete with an underground lawn and six to eight gardeners. It was time to retire there, and wait for the next administration to take charge.

When the new authorities came, he would be ready and waiting to serve them.

30
‘It was the one mistake he made.’

On the morning that Taiwan declared independence, Gao Yu called again.

‘I’ve thought about what kind of wife you should look for,’ she said.

‘Now is not really a…’

‘She doesn’t nag, doesn’t throw dishes, doesn’t chat on QQ, doesn’t cheat on you. She drives a good car and buys a new house. She takes care of her husband like her own child. She is so beautiful that she outshines the moon, puts the flowers to shame, sinks the fish, charms the wild geese into the sky, and her wits exceed those of even Zhuge Liang. She loves her kids, adores her husband, and respects her in-laws. She can step up into the living room and step down into the kitchen. Everyday she only makes money for her husband, and she only feels hurt when her husband doesn’t spend it.’

‘Sounds good,’ said Li.

‘Just say the word and I’ll put up an ad on TwentyCent. If you can hold still for a minute, I can take a picture. You should do well. Your hair’s a little grey, but you’re still quite dishy. We won’t reveal that you’re a sourpuss. The poor woman can find out later.’

‘Are you safe, Gao Yu?’ asked Li. ‘The Angry Youth are rising.’ He could see Big Chen waving at him, but he had to ask.

‘Of course, I’m safe, silly! I’m rich. Besides, which angry youth could stay angry with me? I’m gorgeous!’

‘Stay inside the house. Don’t do anything stupid.’

He disconnected. Big Chen was standing in front of his desk. He had that mournful expression he always got when directly confronted by evil.

‘We lost a suspect,’ he said.

‘Who?’ asked Li.

Too slow, he thought. My brain is working too slow. And I should have been firmer with Crazy Wu.

‘Debu, the Maoist leader,’ said Big Chen. ‘Stabbed in the heart in his tent. Last night.’

Li grabbed his hat and ran for the door. Sexy Chen held it open for him. Li pulled him along and pushed him down the corridor. He grabbed him by the elbow, hard. ‘Go tell Crazy Wu to find me those boys. Right now!’

‘How will he know where to find them?’ asked Sexy Chen.

‘Use your head! Do you think two twelve-year-olds figured out how to take themselves off the grid? They’d need an expert. Have you considered the fact that Crazy Wu might have been lying? Pursue that line of thought. See where it gets you. And find those boys!’

Debu-da lay on his camp bed, stabbed through the heart. His face was frozen in an expression of shock. His jungle fatigues were soaked in blood. His tent was full of weeping soldiers.

‘It looks like he knew who killed him,’ said Big Chen.

‘Or he wasn’t expecting to be killed,’ said Li. ‘Who found the body?’ he asked.

A slim soldier with delicate features stepped forward and saluted. ‘It was late at night, your honour,’ he said, sniffling. ‘We had just finished a rehearsal of Tagore’s dance drama,
Chitrangada
. I play Chitrangada. I’m better than everyone else. It’s a gift from God. We’re not supposed to believe in him, but Debu-da never minded if we prayed a little. It gives you courage in battle, he said. Such a sweet man he was.’ He burst into tears. Some of the others began crying again in sympathy. Li waited.

‘Usually, late at night, he is teaching Toobloo,’ said the soldier, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his tunic. ‘He had some kind of partiality for that boy. I came to his tent to show him a new dance step I had created. But instead, this is what I found.’

He began weeping again. A strapping young soldier with the long hair of a poet folded him in his arms, and kissed the top of his head. ‘Perhaps we can continue later, sir?’ he said.

‘Where’s Toobloo?’ asked Li.

‘He’s vanished,’ said one of the soldiers. ‘No one has seen him since morning.’

‘Where are his books? Can I see his books?’

They pulled a battered tin trunk from under his cot. It was spattered with drops of blood. Li waited while Big Chen took samples, and scanned for fingerprints. After he was done, he opened it and rummaged through it. He shut the trunk. He sat there on his haunches, head down. He stood up. ‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘Did you find anything?’ asked Big Chen.

‘It’s what I didn’t find,’ said Li. ‘A book I gave him. It was the one mistake he made. He couldn’t resist books. ’

‘He loved books,’ said a soldier. ‘He had actual paper copies. Sometimes he would read to us. Very cultured, he was. A thinking person.’

‘That’s what killed him,’ said Li. ‘This was a murder with Bengali characteristics.’

‘Open and shut case,’ said Big Chen, as their car rose above the jungle.

‘It will be once I meet Crazy Wu,’ said Li. ‘You go find the boys. I’ll make sure Wu gives you their location.’

31
‘What are we, Iranians?’

Crazy Wu was in a Jacuzzi, sipping a pink cocktail with a small umbrella in it. His body was free of numbers. He looked happy. ‘Isn’t it great!’ he said. ‘They installed it for me yesterday.’

‘Why did you do it?’ asked Li.

‘You knew it was him?’ asked Sexy Chen, impressed. At a time like this, with the province going up in flames, he was alert for signs of treason, but his admiration for Li was undiminished.

‘This case was about a teacher,’ said Li, ‘but no one stopped to ask one simple thing. What was he teaching them? They weren’t just random poor kids. They were all very bright. They were recruited for a purpose. How did you find out, Wu?’

‘It was the books,’ said Wu. ‘Over the years, as our security needs increased, we deleted nearly all of them. Only a few people were reading any more, so hardly anyone noticed. Even the original files were deleted. They wanted them gone forever. But a few of us saved the ones we loved.’

‘Is that why you did it?’ asked Li. ‘You love books?’

‘I never thought about them much,’ said Crazy Wu, ‘but over the years, things were getting worse. They shut down the Hong Kong bookshops. Then they shut down all the others. Once everything was online, it was easier to control. That was our job. Bit by bit, they made us remove it all. We could see what we were doing. They made us particular experts in things no one should read. Who would understand the value of freedom better than the people who suppress it? As long as China was rising, we supported the rise. We said nothing. Now it’s time to look inside. We may be government servants, but they forgot one thing. We’re hackers.’

‘How did you find out about Barin Mondol? He lives in a small village near the jungle.’

‘It was difficult. He was old school. He used word-of-mouth and paper. Did you figure out what he was doing?’

‘He was keeping stories alive,’ said Li, ‘they were memorizing them together. The boys were telling the stories on the streets, selling them for money. Because whether it’s paper or screens or a little boy on the street, people will always love stories. They were the Tellers of Tales, those boys. Geju was in it. He took care of the business end. He was making money, but he was also protecting them. That’s why I didn’t break his jaw. You helped them, didn’t you? You made them stronger. You fed them material.’

‘They should give you a raise,’ said Wu. ‘I started seeing messages. People were discussing stories that were deleted long ago. They were spreading. I tracked the messages back to their source, using a simple program that was first developed in Xinjiang. I got in touch with one of the boys. You were right. Super bright. Reminded me of me when I was young. I said, why just books, there’s so much information people need to know. Like the size of the Young Prince’s bank balance, and how many homes the generals have, and what really happened in the Square, and how many children of Party members got US passports last year. Do you know, by the way?’

‘No,’ said Li.

‘43,855. I sent Barin Mondol a phone, with Leader Gloogle, so that he could find out all these things, and they could learn new stories. Stories about today. Stories that would make them understand that things need to change. How did you figure out about the phone?’

‘His thumbs were removed,’ said Li. ‘It told me that the murderer did not want that phone to be used by anyone else.’

‘It was too late. We did good work together,’ said Wu, smiling fondly. ‘The boys introduced me to him. He was a great old uncle. He had some great ideas. Did you like the pig? We were very proud of the pig. That one was my idea. The old man used words, but I’m Chinese. I wanted images. Our lives have been ruled by images. That one went viral. Did you see?’

‘I did,’ said Li. ‘Looks like you did your job. Not just here. Back home, too.’

‘It wasn’t just us,’ said Crazy Wu modestly, ‘the innocent babes in Bangalore just launched a cyber attack. Very amateur. Software superpower, my foot. We’re the Happy Cow Army. We’ve been fighting cyber wars since they were in diapers. They were pretending to be Angry Youth and inflaming public opinion against the government. Who would know Angry Youth better than us? We’re the ones controlling them. We helped them along. We made sure the messages got through to the right people.’

‘What’s next?’ asked Li. ‘Are you going to destroy our computer network?’

‘What are we, Iranians?’ said Crazy Wu. ‘I think we’ve done enough. The Great Firewall gave up yesterday. It’s playing Candy Crush 24x7, and refusing to answer questions. Sometimes it invites us to join.’

‘About the hat,’ said Li, ‘it doesn’t really shield people from telepaths, does it?’

‘Of course it does!’ said Wu. ‘Have you seen any telepaths near the Governor? It works perfectly. But it’s not a one-way device. It can control brains too. Of course, it still takes a computer the size of a city to control one human brain, otherwise we’d be controlling everyone. Luckily, we have several computers the size of cities. All those ghost cities, the phantom real estate projects foreigners laugh about—most of them are computers. Every building is full of servers. I borrowed one of them. It’s also why the whole of Shenyang-Fushun has had no power for the last week or so. It’s been fun. How do you think I got my Jacuzzi? I planted that idea in his head. I also made him give silly orders, designed to make things worse. You can trust Governor Wen to make a mess of things, but I planted a few good ones, just to make sure.’

Sexy Chen hissed through his teeth, horrified. ‘Traitors!’ he said. ‘You’re betraying the Motherland! Just because I’m good-looking, you think I’m stupid, but I’m not! I will inform the authorities! They will take a very hard line with you!’

‘Good thing I had this prototype,’ said Crazy Wu, emerging from the Jacuzzi with surprising speed. He picked up a helmet from the floor and jammed it on Sexy Chen’s head. ‘My hair!’ cried Sexy Chen, but Crazy Wu was relentless, pressing down until all the electrodes sank in. ‘It doesn’t work too well,’ he said, ‘so it might fry your brain. I’m sure no one will notice the difference.’

Sexy Chen sank to his knees. ‘Gloop,’ he said.

Crazy Wu looked up at the speaker. ‘Brother Firewall!’ he said, ‘I’ve got someone who can play Candy Crush with you forever and ever.’

‘Oh, goody,’ said the Firewall.

Sexy Chen froze. His eyes glazed over. A tiny bit of drool trickled down his chin.

Crazy Wu looked at Li. ‘You know I didn’t kill him, right?’

‘You admired Barin Mondol, didn’t you?’ said Li.

‘He was a hero,’ said Wu. ‘The world turned to shit, but he never gave up. He never treated those kids like kids. It’s your world, he said, you’ll have to change it. He would not let us forget the truths written in blood. Someday, we’ll put up a statue. Do you know who did it?’

‘I do,’ said Li, ‘and it’s time to wrap this up now.’

BOOK: Murder with Bengali Characteristics
6.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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