The Krishna Key (3 page)

Priya was quiet as she digested the information. Saini continued breathlessly, ‘Virtually all of Krishna’s abundant names revolve around the cow—
Gopala, Godharin, Gomateshwar, Gopa, Govardhana, Govinda, Gosvami.
You’ll be even more surprised when I tell you that your last vacation spot had a name derived from Krishna’s cows!’

Priya screwed her eyes. ‘My last vacation? You mean the trip that I took along with my father to Goa?’ she asked incredulously.

Saini laughed. ‘The
Mahabharata
refers to the region that you now call Goa as
Govarashtra
—literally meaning
a nation of cowherds.
It is from this word Govarashtra that one derives the modern name of Goa,’ he explained, his eyes twinkling. ‘Everything has a connection to the cow. The ancient Greeks worshipped a primordial earth-goddess. Do you know what her name was?
Gaia
—or as we would say, Gaya!’

‘And speaking of the ancient Greeks, where is our ancient nuclear physicist? He has been gone for over thirty minutes,’ wondered Saini, looking at the digital clock on the dashboard of the car.

Having defeated Kal Yavan on the eighteenth attack, I could have chosen to stay on in Mathura but it was turning out to be a costly proposition in terms of human life. Thousands of soldiers and citizens would die each time Jarasandha attacked. I called Vishwakarma, the divine architect, and asked him to build me a magnificent city in the middle of the sea. He bowed down before me and accepted the assignment. I then called the Sea God and asked him to give me some land in the ocean. The Sea God spat out some water from the ocean and created an island for me. This would be my new city for the Yadavas
—
the city of Dwaravati. Filled with palaces, temples, gardens and lakes, it would be the most magnificent city ever built. Surrounded by water on all sides, it would be impossible for Jarasandha to attack it. This single instance of retreat on my part earned me the title of Ranchordas
—
one who deserts the battlefield.

Taarak had carefully watched the old scientist enter the gents’ restroom. He left some cash on the table for the waiter to settle his bill and briskly walked to the restroom, being careful to remain out of Saini’s line of sight. Once inside, he looked around. There was only one person using a urinal on the left side of the toilets. On the right was a row of doors leading to the WC cubicles. Taarak walked over to the washbasin and began washing his hands even though he didn’t
really need to. He was simply waiting for the man using the urinal to leave.

After a minute’s wait, the bathroom emptied out and Taarak walked over to the row of doors leading to the WC cubicles. Of the four doors, two were open and the other two were locked. Taarak bent down to look under the two closed cubicle doors, which ended almost a foot above the ground. Below one of the doors he could discern a bucket and mop. He realised that it was probably the maintenance crew cleaning up inside.

Under the second door, he saw a pair of shoes with undone trousers lying bunched up over them. Evidently the old scientist was relieving himself. Taarak thought on his feet. This was a perfect opportunity to obtain the seal that was probably on Kurkude’s person and to finish him off once and for all. He felt inside his trouser pockets. The rubber stamp, paintbrush and scalpel were with him.

He looked around. No one was in sight. He stepped a few paces away from the cubicle door so that he would have the advantage of momentum when knocking it down. Just as he was gearing up to propel himself into the locked door, he heard a familiar voice.

‘Ah, I see that you’re here. I hope we can move on now?’ asked Saini cheerfully.

‘Yes, sir, of course,’ said Taarak, resuming the tone and demeanour of the ever-dutiful driver.

‘Any idea where Professor Kurkude is?’ asked Saini.

‘I’m not sure, sir,’ said Taarak. ‘It could be him inside that cubicle.’

‘Let’s check,’ said Saini as he walked up to the cubicle door and knocked gently. ‘Is that you inside, Professor Kurkude?’ he asked. There was no response from the occupant inside.

‘Professor, can you hear me?’ asked Saini, his voice significantly louder as he knocked firmly on the door. He was greeted by more silence.

‘That’s it, we’re knocking down this door,’ said Saini. Taarak could not believe the turn of events. He had been on the verge of knocking down the door to kill ,’ replied Sir Khanou

As the door’s bolt gave way, the picture that emerged was of a slumped-over professor sitting on the commode, with the seat cover down and his underpants still around his waist. His trousers lay crumpled over his shoes and his limp body showed no visible signs of life.

Saini went into panic mode. He grabbed Kurkude’s head by his hair and looked into his eyes. They looked like the lifeless eyes of a corpse. He rushed outside and called Priya in. She ran inside, ignoring the sign that read ‘Gentlemen’.

‘Check his pulse!’ yelled Saini. Priya bent down and placed two fingers under the angle of Kurkude’s jaw to check the carotid pulse. ‘See how I do it,’ urged Priya. ‘You never know when you will need to do it yourself!’ Saini observed Priya as she went about checking Kurkude’s pulse. ‘He’s alive,’ she said at length.

‘Then why is he looking dead?’ asked Saini. ‘Has he had a stroke or heart attack? What should we do?’

Taarak stepped in. He opened the professor’s mouth and sniffed. He smiled. It was alky-breath usually caused by chloral hydrate being metabolised through the lungs instead of the liver. ‘He’s been drugged,’ said Taarak, omitting to mention the nature of the drug that had been used. ‘If we help him outside and get him into the car he should be fine in a few minutes.’

Saini breathed a sigh of relief. He had been wondering how he would ever extricate himself from the situation that he had found himself in. He had just been delivered a lifeline. ‘How do you know so much about medicine?’ asked Saini, amazed and a little curious.

‘My father worked with horses, sir,’ explained Taarak. ‘I got to know a bit about sedatives from him.’

‘Well, you have my sincere thanks,’ said Saini. ‘Without you, I would have been forced to call for an ambulance for the professor—quite unnecessarily, I might add. C’mon, let’s get his trousers up and then let’s help him to the car.’

Saini did not notice that a small brown paper envelope that was inside Kurkude’s pocket had been skilfully extracted by the eager-to-please driver and that the envelope with the seal inside it was now in the chauffeur’s possession.

After Satyabhama, I went on to marry Rukmini
—
the sister of Rukmi, the ruler of Vidarbha. Rukmi had arranged for Rukmini to marry my cousin Shishupala, the ruler of Chedi and an ally of Jarasandha. I abducted Rukmini and married her, thus making an enemy of Shishupala. I went on to marry many princesses—from Kosala, Madra, Avanti and Kekaya. I eventually had 16,108 wives! These marriages were arranged in order to consolidate my power. They were political alliances more than anything else. As a Yadava, I was not a king and could never be one. My retreat from Mathura meant that I needed more allies
—
including the Pandavas. My aunt, Kunti, who was very happy to see me, was also wondering what had brought me to meet her. I smiled and told her, ‘You can now return to Hastinapur. The Kauravas will not dare to harm you given the fact that your daughter-in-law has the powerful Drupada for a father.’ Upon my advice, the Pandavas returned to Hastinapur. I spoke to Vidura,,’ replied Sir Khan said Saini on the Kaliyuga Dhritarashtra’s half-brother. ‘The only way to ensure that there is peace is by dividing the kingdom in half. Convince Dhritarashtra that it is necessary,’ I explained to Vidura. In open court, Dhritarashtra gifted the region of Khandavaprastha to the Pandavas to establish their own kingdom as per the sage advice of Vidura.

Radhika Singh fidgeted as the airplane touched down. Seated next to her was Rathore, looking haggard and dishevelled. Radhika’s right hand was in her pocket, counting beads, while her mind was busy reciting the name of
Hari.

Deducing that Saini had managed to evade the police checkpoints in Jodhpur, Radhika and Rathore had considered placing a call to Sunil Garg, the Special Director of the CBI. The obvious destination that Saini was headed for was Chandigarh, the city in which Devendra Chhedi lived.

‘Why don’t we get our men to put up inspection barriers at Rohtak, Panipat and Ambala? Those are transit points that they will have to cross on the way to Chandigarh,’ said Rathore.

‘No. We can’t take a chance. They have Professor Kurkude with them. Let’s not do anything that causes them to panic. We don’t know what they might end up doing to the old man in a situation where they feel cornered,’ said Radhika.

‘So we simply allow them unhindered passage to Chandigarh?’ asked Rathore incredulously.

‘Well, yes,’ said Radhika Singh smiling. ‘But this time we shall reach their destination before them. We shall fly to Chandigarh and meet Chhedi beforehand. We shall be waiting for them when they walk into Chhedi’s office.’

‘There’s the other matter of the secretary’s murder,’ began Rathore.

‘Yes?’ asked Radhika.

‘The cut on the neck that killed her was neat and precise. I spoke to the medical examiner. He says that
the cut was definitely made using a scalpel. I sent him a photograph of the two scalpels that we had found at the murder scenes of Varshney and Bhojaraj. The examiner says that he can say with some certainty that the slashing of the secretary’s neck was done with something similar,’ said Rathore.

‘But why kill the secretary at all?’ asked Radhika. ‘It doesn’t fit the pattern! For starters, the scene wasn’t staged at all. No scalpel, no symbol, no mantra, no bleeding left foot. This was a random act of violence, not part of the originally planned series of murders.

‘Did you speak to the information technology department of Kurkude’s lab?’ resumed Radhika.

‘What was I supposed to check with them?’ asked Rathore, expecting a reprimand any moment for a lapse.

‘When the secretary was killed, her computer terminal was in front of her—switched on. Did anyone access any information from the terminal and, if so, what was accessed?’ asked Radhika.

The Pandavas cleared the forest of Khandavaprastha by burning it down. The god of fire
—
Agni
—
was pleased with the offering and presented me with a discus called the Sudarshan Chakra. He also presented Arjuna with a powerful bow called the Gandiva. Nothing survived the forest fire except for a single demon called Maya. Maya asked that his life be spared and that in return he would at St Stephen’s College in New Delhi. Di absentmindedlybuild the Pandavas a magnificent city as their capital. This came to be known as Indraprastha. It soon became the most prosperous city in the land and Yudhistira ruled it wisely, applying the principles of dharma to his administration. I also suggested that my five cousins establish ground rules in respect of their personal lives, particularly in respect of their marriage to Draupadi. Each brother would have access to Draupadi’s bed chamber for one year at a time. This was to prevent disharmony among the five. All the brothers were also allowed to marry other women so that they would have companionship for the four years when Draupadi was inaccessible to them.