The Mountain Shadow (23 page)

‘But, sir, under barrack is empty, sir.’

‘Did I ask you if there was anyone
in
the under barrack?’ Dilip demanded.

‘N-no, sir.’

‘Then do as I say, all of you, and check it out thoroughly! Now!’

‘Yes, sir!’ the constables shouted, grabbing their soft caps and stumbling from the room.

‘You guys should have a code or something,’ I suggested, when they’d gone. ‘Must get tedious, having to shout them out of here, every hour or so.’

‘Very funny,’ Dilip replied. ‘Get to the point, or get the fuck out. I’ve got a headache, and I want to give it to someone.’

Straight cops are all alike; every crooked cop is corrupt in his own way. They all take the money, but some accept it reluctantly, others hungrily; some angrily, others genially; some joke and some sweat as if they’re running uphill; some make it a contest, while others want to be your new best friend.

Dilip was the kind who took the money resentfully, and tried to make you bleed for giving it to him. Fortunately, like all bullies, he was susceptible to flattery.

‘I’m glad you can deal with this personally,’ I said. ‘Dealing with Patil can take all day. He doesn’t have your
finesse
for getting things done decisively and quickly,
fatafat
, like lightning. They don’t call you Lightning Dilip for nothing.’

They called him Lightning Dilip, in fact, because his shiny boots, lashing out from the darkness of his rage, always struck a chained man when he least expected it, and never twice in exactly the same place.

‘That is very true,’ Dilip preened, relaxing in his chair. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘There’s a guy in your lock-up, Farzad Daruwalla by name, I’d like to pay his fine.’

‘Fines are imposed by the court, not by the police,’ Dilip observed, a sly grin wet on his lips.

‘Of course, you’re completely right,’ I smiled, ‘but a man of your vision can see how dealing with this matter in a forceful fashion, right here and now, will save the valuable time of the court, and the public purse.’

‘Why do you want this fellow?’

‘Oh, I can think of five thousand reasons why,’ I replied, pulling a prepared wad of rupee notes from my pocket, and beginning to count them.

‘A man of vision could think of many more reasons than that,’ Dilip frowned.

It was too late. He was already looking at the money.

‘Lightning-
ji
,’ I said softly, folding the notes over double and sliding them across the desk beneath the cover of my hand. ‘We’ve been doing this dance for almost two years now, and we both know that five thousand reasons is all I’d have to give the sub-inspector to make a full . . .
explanation
 . . . of my interest. I’d be grateful if you’d save me that trouble, and accept the explanation personally.’

Santosh approached with the tea, his footsteps thumping on the floorboards of the wooden veranda. Lightning Dilip flashed his hand out to cover mine. I let my hand slide back across the desk. Dilip’s hand slithered the notes to his side of the desk, and into his pocket.

‘The college man,’ Dilip said to Santosh, as the young constable placed the tea in front of us. ‘The one we brought in from the nightclub, late last night. Bring him here.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Santosh replied, hurrying from the room.

The young cops returned to the office, but Dilip stopped them with an upturned hand.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘We . . . we checked the under barrack, sir, just as you said. All is in order. And we saw that you ordered chai, so we thought we might . . . ’

‘Check it again!’ Lightning Dilip snapped, turning his attention back to me.

The young cops stared at me, then shrugged and slouched out of the office again.

‘Is there anything else I can help you with?’ Dilip asked sarcastically.

‘Matter of fact, there is. Have you heard anything about a man with snow-white hair, and wearing a dark blue suit, asking questions on the street here in Colaba during the last two weeks?’

I was thinking of the Zodiac Georges and their mysterious stalker. If Dilip had any information on the man who was asking about them, it’d be worth buying.

‘A blue suit, and white hair?’ he mused. ‘And if I did see such a man?’

‘I can think of a thousand reasons why I’d like to know about him.’

He smiled. I took the money from my pocket and slid it halfway across the desk, as before, under the cover of my hand.

‘And I think those
reasons
,’ he smiled, ‘should lead you to see Mr Wilson, at the Mahesh hotel.’

He reached out to cover my hand with his. I hesitated.

‘Who is he? What did he want?’

‘He’s looking for someone. More than that, he would not tell me.’

I let my hand slide backwards. He took the money.

‘Did you help him find someone?’

‘He wouldn’t provide me with a sufficient
explanation
, so I threw him out of here.’

‘If he –’ I began, but just then Santosh entered the office with Farzad.

The young Parsi forger was unbloodied but significantly bowed. His eyes were wide with fear, and his chest was rising and falling quickly in shuddering little breaths. I’ve seen the look many times: the look of a man who thinks he’s about to get a beating. Then he saw me, his face brightened, and he rushed toward me.

‘Hey, man, am I glad to see
you
! I –’

I stood, cutting him off, my hand on his chest.

‘Take it easy,’ I said quickly, worried that he might say something I didn’t want Lightning Dilip to hear. ‘Give your respect to the sergeant, and let’s get outta here.’

‘Sergeant-
ji
,’ Farzad said, his palms pressed together, ‘thank you so very, very much for your kindness and generosity.’

Dilip leaned back in his chair.

‘Fuck off!’ he said. ‘And don’t come back!’

I pulled Farzad by the sleeve, dragging him with me out of the office and through the wide gate to the street.

On the footpath, a few steps from the entrance arch, I lit two cigarettes, and gave one to the young forger.

‘What happened?’

‘I was a little, well, actually, I was a
lot
drunk last night. There was this great party at the Drum Beat. It was deadly, man. You should’ve seen me. I danced like a motherfucker. Count on it.’

‘I’m counting on an explanation for why I had to get out of a comfortable bed, at six o’clock in the morning, to hear about you dancing like a motherfucker.’

‘Yeah, of course. Sorry. Well, see, the cops came to close the place down, at about one, as usual. Somebody objected, and made a fuss. I guess I got caught up in all the
tamasha
, and started giving the cops some cheeky remarks.’

‘Cheeky?’

‘Oh, yeah. I’m known for my cheeky remarks.’

‘That’s not something a grown man boasts about, Farzad.’

‘No, really! I’m known for my –’

‘How cheeky are we talking?’

‘There was this very fat cop. I called him Constable Three-Pigs-Fucking. And another one, I said he was stupider than a monkey’s pet coconut. And I said –’

‘I got it. Get on with it.’

‘Well, the next thing I knew I was on the ground. I tripped, or somebody pushed me. And while I was down,
bam
, somebody kicks me in the back of the head. One shot, but it was enough to put me out.’

‘Lightning Dilip, working double duty.’

‘Yes, it was. That sergeant motherfucker. Anyway, I woke up in the back of the police jeep with Lightning Dilip’s foot on my chest, and then they threw me in the cells. They wouldn’t let me make a phone call, because of all those –’

‘Cheeky remarks.’

‘Yeah. Can you believe that? I thought I was gonna be in there the whole day, and with a couple of rough-and-ready pastings to go along. How did you find out I was there?’

‘The Company pays all the guys who clean the cells. That’s how we keep our guys supplied when they’re locked up here. One of them got a look at you, and called his contact. They called me.’

‘I’m so fucking glad you came, man. That was my first time in the slammer. Another night in there would’ve been the end of me. Count on it.’

‘Sanjay’s not gonna be happy about this. He spends a lot of money keeping a lid on this ward. You’re gonna have to buy him a new hat.’

‘I . . . I . . . but, do you know . . . what size is his head?’ he asked, desperately worried. ‘I’ve only seen him the one time, and, by my recollection, his head looked, no disrespect, a little on the
big
side.’

‘He doesn’t wear a hat.’

‘But . . . you said –’

‘I was kidding. But only about the hat.’

‘I . . . I’m so sorry. I really fucked up badly. It . . . it won’t happen again. Can you, maybe, put in a good word for me with Sanjay?’

I was still laughing when a taxi pulled up beside us. Naveen Adair got out of the taxi and reached back through the window to pay the driver. Opening the back door, he helped a beautiful young woman out of the cab. He turned and saw me.

‘Lin! Damn good to see you, man. What brings you here?’

‘Six thousand reasons,’ I replied, staring at the girl.

Her face was familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

‘Oh,’ Naveen said, ‘this is Divya. Divya Devnani.’

Divya Devnani, daughter of one of Bombay’s richest men. Photographs of her short, athletically fit body, draped in expensive designer dresses, claimed eye-line positions in the coverage of every A-list event in the city.

And that’s what had thrown me: the unglamorous clothes she wore on that morning. The simple blue T-shirt, lapis bead necklace and jeans weren’t from that other world, in which she was born to rule. It was the girl in the woman standing in front of me, not the woman on the page.

‘Pleased to meet you,’ I said.

‘Got any hash?’ she demanded.

I flicked a glance at Naveen.

‘It’s a long story,’ he sighed.

‘No, it’s not,’ she contradicted him. ‘My dad, Mukesh Devnani – you’ve heard of Mukesh Devnani, I take it?’

‘He’s that guy with the crazy daughter who solicits drugs outside police stations, isn’t he?’

‘Funny,’ she said. ‘Careful now, I’m going to pee in my pants.’

‘You were gonna tell me why it’s not a long story,’ I prompted.

‘I don’t want to tell you, now,’ she sulked.

‘Her father hired a lawyer I know –’ Naveen began.

‘Who then hired
this
guy,’ she quickly cut in, ‘to be my bodyguard, for a couple of weeks.’

‘I’d say you’re in very good hands.’

‘Thank you,’ Naveen said.

‘Fuck you,’ she said.

‘Nice meeting you,’ I said. ‘So long, Naveen.’

‘And all because I get mixed up with this Bollywood wannabe movie star,’ Divya continued, ignoring me, ‘I mean, not even a
real
movie star, just a
wannabe
, for fuck’s sake. And he’s such a fucking jerk, he starts to threaten me when I refuse to go out with him. Can you believe that?’

‘It’s a jungle out there,’ I smiled.

‘You’re telling
me
,’ she said. ‘Have you got any hash, or not?’

‘
I
have!’ Farzad said quickly. ‘Count on it!’

We turned to stare at him.

He reached down into the front of his pants, fiddled there for a while, and pulled his hand out to reveal a ten-gram block of Kashmiri hashish, wrapped in clear plastic.

‘There,’ he said, offering it to Divya. ‘It’s all yours. Please accept it as . . . as a gift, like.’

Divya’s lips peeled a lemon of horror.

‘Did you just pull that thing . . . out of your underpants?’ she asked, gagging a little.

‘Er . . . yes . . . but . . . I changed my underpants only yesterday night. Count on it!’

‘Who the fuck is this guy?’ Divya demanded of Naveen.

‘He’s with me,’ I said.

‘I’m sorry!’ Farzad said, beginning to put the hash in his pocket. ‘I didn’t mean to –’

‘Stop! What are you doing?’

‘But . . . I thought you –’

‘Peel the plastic off it,’ she commanded. ‘And then don’t touch it. Just leave it in your hand, on the open plastic. Don’t touch it with your fingers. And don’t touch me. Don’t even think about touching me. Believe me, I’ll know it, if you do. A mind like yours, it’s a toy to me. It’s a toy to any woman. So, don’t think about me. And gimme the fuckin’ hash already, you
chudh
.’