The Krishna Key (28 page)

It was an ordinary gold pendant on which the words ‘Sir Khan’ were engraved in gothic font. ‘I know
you are called Sir Khan and that you wear a pendant which bears that name. So what?’ asked Priya blandly.

‘Just rotate the pendant you have in your hand a hundred and eighty degrees so that the letters are upside down,’ instructed Sir Khan. Priya did as she was asked—and gasped at the result.

Sir Khan smiled at her. ‘The honorific bestowed upon me by Dada Rahim was—ironically—also an anagram of Krishna. Now, tell me, should I ask Sunil Garg to meet you at the safety vault so that you can take care of Saini?’

Priya’s face suddenly went fiery-red with rage. In the deepest recesses of her brain she had finally managed to make the connection. Sunil Garg! It was the name of the policeman who had troubled her father to the point that he had been left with no alternative but to accept briefs on behalf of Sir Khan! It was the very same Garg who had also refused to
write up an FIR for Sarla Auntie and had allowed her to be repeatedly abused by her drunkard husband. Her father had not realised that he had been set up by Garg and Sir Khan! His hand had been forced so as to propel him into the arms of Sir Khan.

‘Garg will ensure that you are present when Saini comes to check the contents of the safe deposit box,’ continued Sir Khan. It was the last sentence that he would ever utter. The Ninja spike that left Priya’s hand twirled in the air momentarily before it pierced Sir Khan’s throat. His eyes continued to vacantly stare at Priya in frozen horror, as blood spurted out from the centre of his neck. The cigar fell to the floor and the glass of water on the side table crashed to tiny fragments as it hit the Italian marble of the floor.

Ratnani got up from his chair in panic when he saw what his daughter had done. By the time that he reached Sir Khan’s bleeding body, it was all over. It had all happened within a couple of seconds. Sir Khan’s body slumped forward in his armchair as the blood from his throat dripped on the floor, forming a puddle much like the ones created by Taarak the previous four times.

Priya stood up calmly and walked over to her father, quietly urging him not to touch anything. ‘What now?’ asked Ratnani with a slight waver in his voice.

‘Everything else goes as per plan,’ replied Priya. ‘Lord Krishna shall ensure that the Syamantaka comes to us, and us alone. Sir Khan tricked you into his camp by using Garg! It was about time that I removed this hurdle in my path.’,’ replied Sir Khan energy sai

‘How are we going to get out of here?’ whispered Ratnani. ‘Sir Khan’s men are outside. They’ll kill us the moment we open the door.’

‘I have an idea,’ said Priya, grabbing hold of the don’s mobile phone that lay on the side table. She began typing a text message.

‘To whom are you sending a message to from Sir Khan’s phone?’ asked Ratnani.

‘To the chief of Sir Khan’s security detail. He’s sitting a few feet away from the door to this room. It says that he should ask all hands to rush to the swimming pool annexe because a tip-off has been received regarding a bomb having been planted there,’ said Priya laughing maniacally.

‘And what happens after we leave here?’ asked Ratnani.

‘I bring this saga to a final conclusion,’ Priya said flatly to her father, her eyes glinting as if they had turned to ice.

Duryodhana saw the deserted battlefield in which no Kaurava soldiers remained. He wearily rode his horse towards Lake Dwaipayana and submerged his body in the comforting water in order to regain his strength. He was soon joined
by Sanjaya, Dhritarashtra, Aswatthama, Kripa and Kritavarma. They tried boosting his morale and were somewhat successful. Duryodhana now appointed Aswatthama as commander of his non-existent army. In the meantime, puzzled by the sudden disappearance of Duryodhana, we sent out spies to find out where he was. When we got the news that he was at Lake Dwaipayana, we went there ourselves.

Saini and Radhika walked down a flight of stairs to a well-lit basement. Rathore had been unable to join them, because he was completing local police formalities related to Chhedi’s murder. The news of Chhedi’s death had left Saini shattered. ‘We should never have split up,’ he said to Radhika. ‘It’s my fault. If we had remained together, the chances of Taarak getting away with yet another murder would have been very slim.’

Radhika had allowed Saini to mourn and vent but she also realised the importance of visiting the vault. She convinced Saini to move forward with inspecting the safe deposit box immediately. Like most such establishments, this one, too, was located below street level for reasons of security. Rajendra Raval, the manager of South Delhi Safety Vaults Ltd, was waiting for them at the reception desk and brightened a little too enthusiastically when Saini introduced himself.

‘Ah, Mr Saini, how nice to meet you!’ he exclaimed. ‘Yes, I was waiting for you. If you’ll bear with me for a moment, I’ll just have you sign a few documents that absolve us from any legal liability once you have operated Mr Varshney’s safe. After that you may open
the safe deposit box. May I offer you a cup of coffee in the meantime?’ Both Saini and Radhika declined. Complimentary beverages seemed to stir up memories of poisoned cups of coffee being handed out by Priya. Radhika delved into her pockets for some almonds and popped a few into her mouth before offering some to Saini. ‘Have some,’ she said. ‘Almonds contain brain-boosting elements and you need all your intellect to be supercharged!’ Saini declined grumpily.

‘May I have your passport, please?’ asked Mr Raval. Saini took it out from his jacket’s inner pocket and handed it over. Mr Raval gave it a quick look and then tell us anything about the Di absentmindedly said, ‘I’ll be back with the original and a copy. Please give me a minute.’

As he went into the administrative office behind the reception, CBI Special Director Sunil Garg—who was viewing the developments on a surveillance video monitor—tapped Raval on the shoulder and curtly said, ‘He has come to check the contents of a safe deposit box, not to ask for the hand of your daughter in marriage! Be more businesslike or he will smell a rat. Now, take him to the vault and let’s see what’s inside!’ Raval nodded his head vigorously and left after making a copy of Saini’s passport on the duplicating machine. He had to do everything himself this day because the office staff had been given the day off—on Garg’s specific instructions.

Mr Raval led Saini and Radhika through the massive grille doors into a dazzlingly bright room. The rectangular room had safe deposit boxes lined up on all four walls except for the portion where the grille doors were located. The safe deposit boxes were packed together in a gleaming matrix that stretched
from floor to ceiling, the higher boxes accessible via a movable ladder. Extra rows of boxes were also laid out like supermarket shelves in the centre of the room.

‘Now let me see, what was the number of the box?’ Mr Raval asked himself absentmindedly. He paused, looked down at the clipboard in his hand and said to Saini, ‘Got it! Number 894! It’s at the far end of this aisle. Please follow me.’

Saini and Radhika walked silently behind Mr Raval. Number 894 turned out to be one of the smaller safety deposit boxes on the premises. Mr Raval placed his key into the slot and turned it clockwise. He then took out the key and placed it into the second slot that would, in ordinary course, have been used for plugging in Varshney’s key. Turning the key clockwise in the second slot produced a light clicking sound and the safe door swung open. Mr Raval pulled out a metallic rectangular box, no more than a foot long and six inches wide. He placed the box on a moveable steel table and courteously retreated. He did not draw attention to the fact that the table had been strategically placed at a point where the viewing angle of the ceiling-mounted surveillance camera was perfect.

Saini held his breath. His hands trembled as he unsnapped the catch on the side of the metallic box. Radhika stopped him. She took his trembling hand in her own and gave it a gentle squeeze, smiling. Saini was grateful for her presence and reassurance. He took a deep breath and opened the lid.

At Lake Dwaipayana, Bhima challenged Duryodhana to a duel with maces. My brother, Balarama, had just returned from his pilgrimage along the Sarasvati and was present to witness the duel between his two students. Bhima found it difficult to bring down Duryodhana, who was far better at wielding the weapon of choice. I kept patting my own thighs to signal to Bhima that the only way he would be able to incapacitate Duryodhana would be by breaking his thighs. Finally taking the hint, Bhima lashed out with his mace at Duryodhana’s thighs—contrary to Balarama’s rules that disallowed hitting below the waist. Duryodhana crumpled to the ground with his legs broken. An enraged Balarama lifted his plough to kill Bhima and it was with great difficulty that I convinced my brother that Duryodhana was the one who had lecherously asked Draupadi to sit on his lap and that Bhima was simply fulfilling a noble oath.

Saini observed the contents of the metallic box carefully. A piece of foam had been enclosed within a circle.mis Saini and Radhikaplaced inside the box to prevent the artefact inside from shifting. Within the foam was a groove that had been cut perfectly to accommodate the item. It was a small earthen plate—around four centimetres long and an equal four centimetres wide. The face of the plate was blank except for four squarish holes that would accommodate the pegs of the four seals. A raised edge ran around
the perimeter of the base plate so as to keep the seals snug.

Saini lifted the ceramic plate off the foam and turned it around. It was inscribed with a Sanskrit shloka. It was quite evident that the shloka had been engraved much later, probably during Raja Man Singh’s times, whereas the plate itself was of far older provenance, dating back to the days of a prosperous Sarasvati civilisation.