Patang (25 page)

‘Satham Sir has specifically asked me not to allow you – you in particular – to enter the premises of the prison,’ said the warden. ‘I shouldn’t even be speaking to you.’

Rathod realized that Mule must have called Satham. He said in a stern voice, ‘Sir, there’s a murderer on the loose. And there’s
only one man in the city right now who can help me nab this killer before he strikes again. And that man is in a cell behind those gates. If you don’t let me speak to Tony Matthew, all the murders will be on your hands.’

‘Mr Rathod, it’s not like you are new to how things work around here, is it?’ the warden said calmly, but with unmistakable sternness in his voice. ‘You are aware that this is a strict hierarchical system, and if a senior officer issues an order to a junior officer then the junior officer has no choice but to follow those orders. That’s how the system works. That’s how the system remains in order. My immediate supervisor has issued a direct order to me. And I’m simply following his order. If you have a problem with that, you’re most welcome to speak to him. I believe you know him very well.’

Rathod shook his head in frustration and said, ‘There’s no way he’ll allow me to meet Tony. But you, sir, you are here now. You know why it is important that I meet him. Why don’t you come with me? Let there be enough number of guards accompanying us. But please, for heaven’s sake, let me meet the man for one minute.’

‘No, Mr Rathod…please try and…’

‘Just one minute. Not a second more, I promise. With all your guards.’

‘I can’t help you, Mr Rathod, why don’t you understand that?’

‘Please sir, please. Help me solve the case. I implore you.’

The warden scrutinized Rathod for a long time. He had never seen this man in person before, but had heard enough about him. Satham spoke very highly of him, said he had one of the most brilliant minds around. And yet, here he was, standing in front of the warden, hands folded, stooping and pleading for a favour. The warden shook his head and said, ‘I don’t believe I’m doing this.’

He picked up the phone.

After some time, Rathod found himself walking through the familiar passages of Cell Block E, accompanied by the warden and six men armed with automatic weapons. He noticed that there was an air of superlative alertness about the guards, as if some of them actually believed the paranormal stories that were being whispered about the mysterious prisoner.

As the warden paused to sign some papers at the main entrance of the cell block, Rathod noticed that security had been beefed up to its highest level. The warden would not have had to do so under normal circumstances.

‘Sir?’

Rathod turned around to find one of the armed guards looking at him with a strange, nervous expression on his face.

‘Is it true, sir?’ the man gulped and asked.

From the corner of his eye, Rathod saw that the warden was still signing his papers. The other guards were rallying around him, or talking to each other.

‘What are you talking about?’ Rathod whispered from between clenched teeth. ‘What is true?’

‘That he can walk through walls?’

On hearing the unadulterated terror in the guard’s voice, Rathod realized that the situation was more dire than he had thought, because there was nothing more dangerous than a nervous man with a gun in his hand. He didn’t respond. The gates opened with a clang and the posse walked down the brightly lit corridors. As they walked past multiple iron gates and reached Tony’s cell, Rathod noticed that there were two armed guards posted there as well.

The warden spoke into Rathod’s ears. ‘One minute. Not a second more.’

Rathod looked into the cell. Unlike the previous time, a light burned bright behind the intricate steel mesh. Rathod realized that this was a new precautionary measure taken after the ambush sprung by Tony at the previous meeting. The man himself was casually sitting at the edge of his bed and staring at the floor. Rathod waited. Time was ticking away.

‘Hello, Tony!’ he said after a while.

‘Well, hello, Mr Rathod! I must say I’m surprised to see you here. How’s the neck?’

The warden glanced at Rathod. There was palpable tension outside the cell. Everyone was on edge and in a heightened state of alertness. Any sudden move by Tony and as many as eight guns would start blazing. Rathod came straight to the point.

‘I figured out your clue.’

‘Did you?’ Tony looked at Rathod with a smile. ‘Well, good for you.’

‘Yes, I know now that there’s someone else behind these murders.’

‘Of course there is.’

‘But I need to know where he is going to strike next.’

‘How on earth should I know that? Ask him.’

A guard swallowed hard and wrapped his hand tightly around the butt of his gun, his forefinger trembling just over the trigger. The warden noticed this and said, ‘It’s time to go, Mr Rathod.’

But Rathod was lost in a different world. He was looking keenly at Tony’s face.

‘How can I ask him?’ he said. ‘I don’t know where he is.’

‘Oh, but you do, Mr Rathod. Of course you do. He is right in front of your eyes. Trouble is, you just aren’t looking hard enough.’

As Tony said these words, he took one step closer to the cell door and grabbed the bars with his strong hands.

‘Sir?’ A few nervous gasps were heard from the sweating guards, some of whom had already raised their weapons and were waiting for an order, one way or another. ‘What do we do?’

The warden said once again, ‘Let’s go, Mr Rathod.’

Rathod didn’t look away from Tony.

‘I…I can’t see, Tony,’ he said. ‘I don’t know where he is.’

‘Well it’s simple, isn’t it?’ Tony replied. ‘If you wish to see, you need to open your eyes!’

‘Mr Rathod!’the warden said sternly. ‘We have to leave
now
! Guards, escort this man out.’

As two guards moved towards Rathod, he realized he was out of time and could never come back here. As strong fists wrapped around his arms, he resisted with all his might, and in a desperate, last-ditch attempt, shouted, ‘I don’t know where he is, Tony. Help me! Where is he?’

But Tony didn’t answer. Instead, as the two guards started yelling at Rathod to come along with them, Tony screamed, ‘Can you feel it now, Mr Rathod? Can you feel the lash of the whip on your back now?’

Several inmates from neighbouring cells started screaming their lungs out and banging on the bars. Now the warden, too, looked nervous. From that moment on, everything began to collapse into chaos. One of the guards kicked Rathod on the back of his knee, and he fell to the ground. The warden shouted something, but Rathod couldn’t hear him. The two guards started dragging him across the floor, away from the cell. The inmates continued to scream. Gathering all the strength that was left in him, Rathod yelled out at the top of his voice, ‘Where is he, Tony? Where is he?
Where is he?’

Between his own screams and the mayhem all around, Rathod heard Tony’s ominous voice echo through the cell block and shake it to its very core, ‘Open your eyes, Mr Rathod. Open your eyes.’

32

Dawn was breaking. Rathod’s car was parked by the side of the road, and he sat inside, dazed. He had never faced such humiliation in his life. He had given his entire life to solving crime. And he had always, without exception, emerged victorious. Never before had he been outwitted like this. He hung his head in shame.

As the first rays of the sun touched his face, he looked around him. The city was waking up. Soon, this place would become extremely crowded. People would go about their daily commute to work, children would go to school. And somewhere within the city a man would be planning his next murder. The infinite complacence with which the citizens of Mumbai would be going about their day made Rathod squirm. He needed a pill for his headache. In fact, he needed more than a pill. He needed to pass out.

Rathod went home and pulled out a bottle of rum from the fridge in the kitchen. He popped two pills and gulped down a large swig of rum directly from the bottle. Then he gulped down some more. And then some more.

Various faces continued to circle around inside his head like a whirlpool, and he felt as if he was getting sucked under. His head didn’t hurt anymore. In fact, he felt as light as a feather, as if he was floating in zero gravity. Faces flashed around him – Tony, Uday Singh, Aditya, Priya Shitole, Mule, Iliyas, Ananya, Mrinalini. The world was spinning around, as if Rathod was
sitting on a merry-go-round. He regretted taking the pills with so much rum, but it was too late. He tried to stick a finger down his throat to vomit out the toxic concoction, but it was too late. Just before a dark screen descended in front of his eyes, he saw Ananya’s face – beautiful, bright, illuminated, concerned – as she looked at him and whispered,
‘Let me help you!’

When Rathod woke up, his head felt like it was made of lead. He realized he was badly hungover. Picking himself up from the floor, he found his way to the bathroom where he got a good look at himself in the mirror and immediately regretted his actions. He looked awful. He desperately needed a shave and a hot bath, but more than anything else he needed to think with a clear head.

By the time he had shaved and showered, it was already 8.30 p.m., but he felt much better. He made up his mind to visit the homes of Imtiaz Raza and Madhusudan Nayak once again. He was not the kind of person to give up. If the answer he needed could be found anywhere, it was at those two places. As he drove out, it struck him that it had been quite some time since Aditya had tried to contact him. What was the kid up to? Rathod didn’t want to work with him anymore, but he needed to know the inspector’s whereabouts. He picked up his cell phone and dialled Aditya’s number, but found it busy. Not wanting to waste any more time, he set off.

Amina Raza was not at home. Rathod was informed that she had left for Dubai the previous day. He questioned everyone at the Raza household once again. After a thorough interrogation of the family members, he summoned the servants one by one. The last person he spoke to was Raza’s driver.

‘What is your name?’

‘Ahmed.’

‘How long have you been working here?’

‘Just over a year, sir. I used to work with Suleiman Bhai earlier, in Dadar. Then, in July last year, Suleiman Bhai left for London and referred me to Imtiaz Bhai.’

‘Were you on duty the night Imtiaz Raza went missing?’

‘Yes, sir. My duty usually ends at around 11 p.m. He left the house at around 10.30.’

‘Why didn’t you go with him?’

‘He asked me not to.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know, sir. He is my employer. I’m not supposed to question him.’

‘Did he seem excited or scared? Did you notice anything different about him?’

‘No, sir, not at all…at least not that night. He was a little excited a few nights ago when Iliyas Bhai had come. I remember, after Iliyas Bhai left, he asked me to get the car out.’

‘Really? Where did he go?’

‘To the police station, sir.’

‘Shantinagar police station?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘But you didn’t notice anything unusual the night he disappeared?’

‘No, sir, nothing at all.’

‘Did he say anything when he left that night?’

‘Well, now that you mention it, I remember I asked him if he wanted me to drive. But he said he was just going to the police station, and would be back in 15-20 minutes. He said I could leave for the day.’

‘He said he was going to the police station?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Shantinagar police station?’

‘No, sir, he didn’t say that specifically. But since he said he would be back in 20 minutes, I’m assuming he must have meant the Shantinagar police station.’

Rathod frowned and tried to see the bigger picture. Why would Raza go to the Shantinagar police station that night? And of course he didn’t go there, otherwise Bhave would have told him so. He must have been ambushed and kidnapped somewhere on the way. But why did he want to go to the station in the first place?

Rathod summoned Raza’s personal butler.

‘Did your employer receive any phone calls that night?’

‘Yes, sir, I think he received a few.’

‘Were these calls made to his cellphone, or to his house?’

‘If he received any calls on his cellphone, I wouldn’t know. But this phone did ring one or two times.’ The man pointed towards a landline.

‘Do you know who called him?’

‘No, sir. He took all the calls himself.’

‘Hmm…the last call that came on this phone, do you remember that one?’

‘Well…there was nothing unusual about the call, so I don’t remember it specifically.’

‘Did you know what was being said over the call?’

‘I’m sorry, sir, but it was not my habit to eavesdrop on Bhai’s calls.’

‘Then how did you know that there was nothing unusual about the call?’

‘I…I mean…I…’

Rathod realized there was nothing else this man could tell him. He dismissed him, but the man hesitated.

‘What’s the matter? Do you want to say something?’ Rathod asked, pausing.

‘The call…it…’

‘Yes?’

‘Did it come from the killer?’

‘We can’t say for sure, but it seems that way.’