The Mahabharata Secret (20 page)

Farooq decided that it didn’t make sense to try and justify his actions. And there was a modicum of truth in what was being told. He had missed out on getting his hands on vital information at Bairat. He admitted that some part of him was guided by a personal agenda. He was still smarting at having been outwitted, more than once, by Vijay. He wanted to strike back. But he couldn’t allow his own emotions to get in the way. He wanted the mission to succeed as much as anyone else. There was too much at stake for things to go wrong. ‘We’ll get there,’ he promised. ‘No more diversions or distractions.’

‘I’m glad to hear that. You know the consequences of failure.’

The caller hung up. Farooq stared at the telephone receiver in frustration.

There was a knock on the door and Murphy entered, unbidden.

Farooq glared at him. He didn’t like Murphy. Somehow, the American had managed to upstage him in this project. And Farooq didn’t like being upstaged.

‘What do you want?’

‘I’ve been asked to work directly with you. Support you from here on.’

Farooq scowled, his displeasure showing.

‘It’s better in a way,’ Murphy said, reading Farooq’s emotions. ‘We communicate directly. It’s more accurate. Saves time. And don’t worry, I’m here to help. I won’t get in your way.’

‘And you think you can help?’

Murphy shrugged. ‘I think you guys have it all wrong.’

‘Now you’re trying to teach us?’

‘No. I think you guys are experts at what you do. No one can beat you at causing terror. But this one’s not up your street.’

‘And you think you know better?’

‘This is what I do for a living.’

‘So what’s your solution then?’ It was a challenge.

‘I’ve been told we have very little time to go before the declaration. Once that happens, the countdown begins. We have to find what we seek. There is no room for failure.’ Murphy paused, seeking the words to explain. ‘Rethink your strategy. You’ve tried force. But what have you achieved?’

Farooq was silent.

‘Exactly. Now, what if you abandon all efforts to try and force the secret out of them?’

‘We can’t afford to sit back and relax.’

‘That’s not what I meant. Look, let’s face it. You couldn’t decipher the mails. They did. You’ve now got a new riddle from Bairat. And they have found a ball of rock from the secret chamber. How are you going to unravel those clues?’

Farooq understood. ‘You’re right. They’re good at this game. They have reached this far and will go further. All we need to do is follow them. And they will take us to our goal.’

Murphy smiled.

Farooq nodded. ‘Fine. We’ll leave them alone. Let them lead us to the secret. And I know exactly when we should step in and take control.’

Murphy leaned forward, interested. ‘How would you know that?’

Farooq grinned maliciously. ‘Let’s just say that I learned from what happened at Bairat.’

A Royal Rebuff

Imran sat in the ornately furnished study and glanced around. He looked admiringly at the mahogany desk, at the quill pen in its crystal holder and the crystal inkpot at its side. The walls of the study were lined with bookcases from top to bottom. The Maharaja seemed to be an avid reader.

The door of the study opened and the Maharaja entered; imposing in his dark grey Nehru jacket with gleaming black brogues.

‘Your Highness—,’ Imran began, getting to his feet, but was cut off almost immediately by Bheem Singh.

‘I know why you’re here. The Home Minister briefed me.’

Yeah, like he reports to you
.

Imran suppressed a snigger at the Maharaja’s arrogance. Bheem Singh rounded the mahogany desk and sat down in the luxurious leather chair behind it. No invitation was extended to Imran to sit down.

‘That’s great,’ Imran responded, sitting down anyway. He was damned if he was going to stand and interview this man! He may be a former Maharaja and prominent politician, but Imran wasn’t going to let him have the upper hand in this conversation. ‘Then we can get straight to the point.’

Bheem Singh said nothing, but folded his arms across his chest, as if waiting for Imran to continue.

‘We are investigating a man named Farooq Siddiqui and his activities in India,’ Imran began cautiously, looking for a reaction. There was none. ‘I believe that you insisted that a case be filed against this man for kidnapping one Vijay Singh from Jaungarh.’

‘I insisted that a case be filed against a man named
Farooq
,’ Bheem Singh corrected him. ‘I know nothing of a man with the surname of Siddiqui.’

‘Thank you. Can I ask what your interest in this matter is?’

‘I don’t think that’s any of your business.’

Imran was taken aback.

‘I’m sorry, your Highness, but we’re investigating this case and we need to have answers to all our questions. How do you know Vijay Singh?’

‘Vijay is the nephew of Vikram Singh, who was also from a royal family. Vikram and I moved in the same circles. I don’t know Vijay, but I had gone to pay him my condolences on his uncle’s death, when the SHO of Jaungarh police station paid us a visit. He was refusing to investigate the case and I simply insisted that he should do his job. Are you going to arrest me for that?’

Imran took a deep breath. This was going to be tougher than he had thought.

‘No, your Highness, I didn’t mean any offence.’

‘Well, then, if that’s all, I have to be going. The American Vice President is in town, as you probably know, and he’s scheduled to visit me tomorrow.’ Bheem Singh stood up.

Imran steeled himself for what was to come. ‘Your Highness. I have just one more question.’

The Maharaja sat down grumpily and looked at his oversized Rolex watch.

‘I’ll be quick,’ Imran assured him. ‘We also received reports that the Gurgaon police were being pressurised by the office of the Haryana Chief Secretary to close the case as unsolved.’

He watched Bheem Singh carefully. Again, there was no reaction. Imran thought, either the Maharaja genuinely knew nothing about this case or he was a very good actor.

‘Do you have any comment on that, sir?’

Bheem Singh placed his palms flat on his desk and leaned forward. ‘I am a busy man,’ he boomed. ‘I didn’t give you an appointment for you to waste my time with frivolous questions. If that is all you need to ask me, then I have nothing to say and you can leave now.’

It was meant as a dismissal, but Imran didn’t move. He looked straight at Bheem Singh and continued talking.

‘Your Highness, this is a matter of national security. We have, just a few hours ago, positively identified the man Farooq, who kidnapped Vijay Singh, as Farooq Siddiqui, a missing Pakistani nuclear scientist, who has conclusively been linked to Lashkar-e-Taiba.’

Bheem Singh’s face registered surprise.

‘So, your Highness,’ Imran pressed home his advantage, ‘I need you to answer my question.’

Bheem Singh sat back in his chair and studied Imran. ‘I have no comment,’ he said finally, his face passive again. ‘How would I know what is happening in Haryana or Gurgaon? I have no constituency there.’

Imran took another deep breath. ‘Perhaps, then, you will help me understand why the Haryana Chief Secretary’s office claims that you are the one who has pressurised them to withdraw or close the case against Farooq Siddiqui?’

A succession of emotions flitted across Bheem Singh’s face—shock, followed by confusion, which gave way to anger.

‘What are you insinuating?’ he thundered. ‘Are you out of your mind? I hope you have evidence to substantiate your wild allegations! I will report you to the Home Minister. How dare you barge into my office, my home, and accuse me of something like this?’

He recovered his composure somewhat and stood up. ‘You have no idea what you are dealing with. I am involved in a top secret government project. If you want details, go ask your boss. This interview is over.’

Without another word or glance at Imran, he stalked out of the room. After a few moments, two tall, well-built security guards entered the office.

Imran sighed. ‘I was just leaving,’ he told them, and they followed him out.

24

Day 7

Intelligence Bureau Headquarters, New Delhi

Imran sat in Vaid’s office, across the desk from the Director, a sullen and defiant look on his face. Vaid looked both perplexed and angry.

‘What were you thinking?’ he demanded of Imran. ‘Alleging that Bheem Singh was trying to suppress the investigation into the kidnapping case? You promised me that you wouldn’t try and pull any stunts. Do you know the bollocking I got from the Home Minister?’

Imran stared back, unrepentant. ‘Well, it’s true. I got that from a reliable source in the office of the Chief Secretary of Haryana.’

Vaid leaned forward to emphasise his words. ‘But you didn’t get that as an official statement from the Chief Secretary, did you?’

‘I know it is a hunch, sir, but I believe I am right,’ Imran’s gaze didn’t waver. ‘I think we need to tap Bheem Singh’s phones. He claims to be involved in a top secret project, but how is it that the Home Ministry doesn’t know about it? How come
we
don’t know about it?’

Vaid shook his head firmly. ‘The answer is no. After what happened today, there’s no way I’m going to the Home Minister with a request to tap Bheem Singh’s phones.’

Imran was prepared for this. He had spent some time planning this conversation.

‘Well, then, sir, I’m going to ask you to get me included as part of the security detail for Steve Buckworth, when he visits Bheem Singh tomorrow.’

Vaid stared at Imran as if he had lost his mind. Curiosity kept him from rejecting this request outright. ‘The US Vice President? And what will you gain by that?’

‘Sir, we can’t get an official search warrant on Bheem Singh. And I know I won’t be allowed into that farmhouse after today. But, if I am officially assigned to Buckworth’s security team, they can’t stop me from getting in. While the VP meets Bheem Singh, I plan to slip away discreetly and conduct a search of the premises. I want to come back with evidence to back my hunch.’

Vaid sighed. He knew that Imran was perceptive and highly intuitive and had cracked several cases in the past, going purely by his instinct.

But that had been a different world. They had hunted down criminals. This was bigger. And potentially more explosive. They were not dealing with a petty criminal here. Imran had a former Maharaja in his sights, who was also a prominent politician with immense clout in the ruling political party. The fallout, if he was wrong, could destroy both men.

‘I’ve done some homework before coming to you,’ Imran was speaking again. He placed a dossier on the desk and flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. ‘You know why Buckworth is meeting Bheem Singh.’

Vaid decided to play along. ‘Bheem Singh put together a consortium through his business contacts across the world and the business they created in the US generated a 1,00,000 jobs in the last six months. The American VP, since he is in India on an official visit to push the aircraft carrier deal, is going to convey the American President’s gratitude and appreciation for this job creation at a time when there is a recession and high unemployment in the US.’

‘Correct.’ Imran smiled. ‘At least that is the official story.’

Vaid waited. He knew Imran was going to throw his punch now.

‘Perhaps this is the true reason for their meeting,’ Imran continued. ‘But then, what reason would Buckworth have had for meeting Bheem Singh on earlier occasions?’

Vaid looked surprised. ‘They’ve met earlier?’

‘Several times.’ Imran glanced at the sheet in the dossier. ‘They’ve been meeting regularly since 2004, when the VP was a Senator. Different places each time. But they’ve met at least 15 times since then, including a meeting earlier this year; approximately twice a year, all low-profile meetings.’

‘They could have been discussing Bheem Singh’s business prospects in the US,’ Vaid argued.

‘Perhaps. But it wasn’t a one-on-one meeting every time. On several occasions they were joined by others; Xen Haojing. Jacques Deaubois. Jeremy Martin. One or more of these others were also present at some of the meetings. Sometimes all of them were there.’

Vaid recognised the names. These were prominent politicians with very public aspirations to lead their respective countries; China, France and the UK. It was also no secret that Buckworth was going to run for President once the incumbent’s term came to an end. It didn’t make sense. What would prompt these men to meet so often over a period of nine years? And why hadn’t any of these meetings caught the attention of the media?

‘There’s more.’ Imran tapped the dossier. ‘During many of these meetings, a European businessman was also present. Christian Van Klueck.’ He paused to see if Vaid showed any recognition of the name.

He did. ‘The Austrian businessman?’

Imran nodded. ‘And Van Klueck is also part of the consortium that has invested in the US and created all these jobs that Buckworth is going to thank Bheem Singh for.’

Vaid looked puzzled. ‘It certainly isn’t possible that the consortium investment was planned nine years ago. All the publicity and hype around the job creation, talks about the investment being planned after the recession struck.’

‘Exactly. So what were these guys meeting for, almost twice a year, for the last nine years? Five politicians and a businessman. If you don’t count the fact that Bheem Singh is also a businessman. And look at the venues for the meetings; Estonia, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Poland, Slovakia, South Africa, Vietnam, Sri Lanka. All countries other than their own. No press releases to the media. No entourages. Almost as if they didn’t want anyone to know they were meeting.’

‘So you think that there is more to this meeting tomorrow, between Buckworth and Bheem Singh, than has been officially announced?’ Vaid began to see where Imran was going with his logic.

‘I think so. This is a one-on-one meeting between Bheem Singh and Buckworth. No delegation accompanying the VP or joining Bheem Singh A meeting to convey thanks from the US, would normally be accompanied by much more publicity, invitations to the press, a large delegation on both sides and all the frills. Why is none of that happening?’