The Colaba Conspiracy

By Surender Mohan Pathak

Voted the most popular book in 2014

Parsumal Changulani is dead. His children have thrown their stepmother Sushmita out, destroyed all evidence of her marriage to their father, and accused her of teaming up with her ex-lover to murder him. Enter the resourceful ex-lover: famed lockpicker Jeet Singh. Will he be able to clear their names and solve the mystery of Changulani's death?

Surender Mohan Pathak is at his thrilling best in this first English translation of a Jeet Singh mystery. Evoking the sights and smells of Mumbai and the peculiar cadence of that city's speech, The Colaba Conspiracy is a nerve-wracking whodunnit from an acknowledged master of the form.

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins India
• Release date: May 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9789351772149

Surender Mohan Pathak

Surender Mohan Pathak is considered the undisputed king of Hindi crime fiction. He has nearly 300 bestselling novels to his credit. He started his writing career with Hindi translations of Ian Flemings' James Bond novels and the works of James Hadley Chase. Some of his most popular works are Meena Murder Case, Paisath Lakh ki Dakaiti, Jauhar Jwala, Hazaar Haath, Jo Lare Deen Ke Het and Goa Galatta.

Book preview

Tuesday: 19 May

The mobile started ringing.

Jeet Singh took it out and found an unfamiliar number flashing on the phone screen. But he did note that it was a landline.

Who could it be?

Must be someone! He had got hold of that phone only recently, how could somebody call on it already? Must be a wrong number for sure.

He was in his kholi in Chinchpokli at the time, and had before him the big project of cleaning and making it habitable.

The kholi was a long nine by fourteen feet room, with a matchbox-sized kitchen and a bathroom. There were times when the kholi had been his safe haven for years. In a metro as expensive as Mumbai it was no less than a miracle to have a place of his own, despite the fact that that neighbourhood of Chinchpokli was little better than a slum. However it suited his needs perfectly. But then there was that neighbour of his—Sushmita—with whom he’d had a one-sided love affair, and had ended up being blown around like a leaf in a storm. Now he was back again like a ship’s bird.

Hoping, rather, praying, for stability in his life.

The bell stopped ringing.

Good!

Jeet Singh was a clean-shaven, fair-complexioned young Himachali in his early thirties, who had come from Dharmshala to Mumbai six years ago in search of a job. He had a lean body, an ordinary face, thin lips, an exceptionally straight nose, and thick hair and eyebrows. While most people knew him as an ordinary locksmith, thanks to his one-sided love affair he had taken part in many robberies, committed many murders. Now, he was so mired in the murk of the crime world that he couldn’t get out of it even if he wanted to.

The mobile rang again.

He looked at the screen.

The same number.

This time he took the call.

‘Hello!’ he said.

‘Badri!’ said a steady voice at the other end.

‘Who is asking?’

‘I’ll tell you. Since I have called you, I’ll tell you too. But first confirm, brother, that it is Badrinath.’

‘Yes.’

‘The famous one?’

‘Don’t talk in riddles.’

‘… the artist! Ace locksmith!’

‘How did you get this number?’

‘Bro, when you have a mobile, when you receive calls on it, when you generate calls from it, then somebody ought to know the number.’

‘What do you want?’

‘There is some work for you.’

‘What work?’

‘The kind in which you are an expert. Which nobody does better than you. Got it?’

‘Go on.’

‘You have to open something; you have no other responsibility. It would be child’s play for you. Remuneration fifty thousand.’

‘Where?’

‘You will know when you say yes.’

‘Tell me your name.’

‘That too you will know when you say yes. We will fix a meeting. We will get introduced then.’

‘I don’t need it.’

‘Is the money too little? ok, sixty.’

‘I don’t want it.’

‘Then quote your own price.’

‘No …’

‘ok, one lakh. Happy now?’

‘… I don’t need it.’

‘Arre, why are you stuck on no?’

‘Because I am not the fellow you think I am.’

‘Nonsense! I confirmed before calling.’

‘Your confirmation is no good.’

‘You … you are not Badrinath, the lock-breaker?’

‘No, I am Jeet Singh, the lock-maker. Locksmith. With a kiosk outside a hardware showroom in Crawford Market. Come there if you have lost the key to any lock, or want to get a duplicate key made. Ask anyone where to find Jeet Singh locksmith. ok?’

‘Yaar, is this a joke?’

‘Nope!’

‘Do you have any special demands?’

‘No, how could I when I’m not in that line of work?’

‘There seems to be some confusion. I want to talk face to face.’

‘No problem, come to Crawford Market.’

‘Where do you live?’

‘Well, you’re a resourceful person. You found the number, now find out the address too.’

‘Arre yaar, why don’t you understand? It’s one lakh for a job that’ll hardly take you ten to fifteen minutes …’

‘Don’t need it.’

‘Then tell me what you need.’

‘Don’t need anything at all.’

‘But …’

‘Now listen to one more thing, an important thing.’

‘What important thing?’

‘The thing that confirms that you’re a cunning fellow. That is why you call each time as if it’s the first time you are calling …’

‘What?’

‘You call each time with a new number pretending to be a new guy. This is the third time you have called me …’

‘Oh no, never. This is the first time I …’

‘What no-never! I recognized your voice. Your style of speaking just rang a bell. First you offered ten, then twenty-five, fifty, sixty and on to a lakh. Tell me, what would be the offer if you call for the fourth time … one-and-a-half or two?’

There was only silence at the other end of the line.

‘Now get this straight, what I say is final: I don’t want it. Neither now nor later. So don’t try to call a fourth, fifth, sixth time, acting all innocent. You’ll waste your time. You won’t get an answer.

Got it?’

‘Now don’t be like that, bro …’

‘I’m hanging up.’

And he did.

A little later, he called back the number out of curiosity. But nobody answered while the bell kept ringing. Since it had eight digits, Jeet Singh knew it had to be an mtnl number. When he called directory enquiry, they told him that the number belonged to a pco at Churchgate station.

‘Clever guy!’ he muttered. ‘Careful too, calling from a pco.’

The phone rang again.

Damn the guy …

But this time it was Eduardo from Valpoi, Goa.

Big Daddy!

Eduardo was the person instrumental in getting him his freedom, otherwise it would have been a matter of time before he was awarded a sentence of five to seven years in the Tardeo Super Self-service Store robbery he was accused of. Eduardo was the person who rushed from Valpoi to Mumbai on his sos call and spent fifty thousand rupees out of his own pocket to bail him out. Not only that, it was because of him that Gailo, the police eye-witness, changed his statement, though only four months back in January he had correctly identified Jeet Singh in an identification parade at Jacob Circle police lock-up as a member of the gang that had committed the robbery. Gailo turned hostile during his statement in the court because Eduardo had told him that Jeet Singh was a close friend of his first cousin Enjo. Enjo was no more by then, but Eduardo had asked Gailo to save Jeet Singh for the sake of the ‘departed soul’s friendship’, and Gailo duly complied. So Jeet Singh was released on bail on Tuesday, the sixth of January, and then miraculously acquitted of all charges due to lack of evidence on Monday, the twentieth of April. By that time, Inspector Govilkar, the sho of Tardeo police station and the root cause of this whole trouble, had been killed by Jeet Singh. Despite assassinating a police officer in cold blood, he got away as a favour from Govilkar’s dcp Pradhan. It was because of his active assistance that Jeet Singh got the alibi that at the time of Govilkar’s murder at Timber Dock, Sewri on 29 January, ‘prime murder suspect’ Jeet Singh was locked up in Tardeo police station for failing to comply with the court order of daily attendance at the police station.

Eduardo was the person under whom Jeet Singh had committed his first big crime outside of Mumbai—of opening the impregnable vault of Double Bull Casino in Panaji. It was Eduardo’s last criminal act, but the beginning of Jeet Singh’s decline.

Since then, sixty-year-old Eduardo had been a friend, guide, guardian and father figure.

He answered the phone.

‘May my humble greetings reach Big Daddy,’ Jeet Singh said in an elated tone.

‘Reached,’ Eduardo said, ‘God bless you, my dear. How are you?’

‘I’m free.’

‘So you are. God Almighty was merciful, so you are. But how are you otherwise?’

‘ok. What about you?’

‘There are still some problems.’

‘Such as?’

‘Well, the scratches and bruises have all healed. All four broken ribs and two out of three fingers are back to normal, but the wrist is still in a plaster cast. There are two bones in the wrist, you know, and both are broken. Double fracture they call it … compound fracture, you know. The doctor here says it will take time.’

‘So it will. It has been only three weeks since you were roughed up.’

‘More … one month. But yes, it will take time.’

‘So, what did you call for?’

‘I am coming to that. But before that, tell me what’s this I read in the papers?’

‘What did you read?’

‘That Sindhi store owner … Pursumal Changulani … the one Sushmita married after ditching you … finished! Somebody murdered him …’

‘Yes. It happened three days ago, on Saturday. People say he was returning home to Colaba after closing his Lamington Road store when the robbers nabbed him. There are lots of high-end cars being stolen these days. He had a new Honda. Some papers say he died saving the car, some say he died saving the cash he had from the store’s daily sales, some say he died saving both. He resisted the robbers, and they dropped him. Multiple stabs in the stomach.’

‘Poor man! These days being rich is also a risk. The papers said no robber has been arrested!’

‘Not so far.’

‘Any eye-witness?’

‘Nope!’

‘Poor man! How old was he?’

‘Around sixty, maybe a year or two less.’

‘Too bad! Did you go there?’

‘Where?’

‘Colaba! To his house! To offer your condolences to the widow!’

Jeet Singh said nothing. He remembered the time when he was lying in hospital, badly burnt, and Shekhar Navlani, a private detective engaged by Pursumal, came to talk to him. His words echoed in his ears:

‘If there is an ounce of self-respect left in you, never ever go to Tulsi Chambers again. Not in Pursu’s absence, nor in his presence. If somebody’s lover becomes somebody’s wife, it’s a tragedy. But if somebody’s wife becomes somebody else’s lover, it is a bigger tragedy. If you have any self-respect left, then never let this bigger tragedy happen.’

‘Hello!’ Eduardo’s anxious voice brought him back. ‘Jeete! You on the line or not?’

‘Y-yes,’ Jeet Singh said in a choked voice.

‘Then why are you not saying anything?’

‘I did not go there to express my condolences.’

‘What did you say? You did not go?’

‘Yes.’

‘Even after three days?’

‘This is how it is.’

‘But why?’

‘I am not welcome there.’

‘What? You are not welcome there? Who said that?’

‘Somebody.’

‘Who?’

‘It’s a long story. You won’t understand.’

‘Jeete, even if somebody said that, he would have meant it for normal circumstances. But these are not normal circumstances. He was a person whom you knew, who saved your life by making a false statement, who saved you from the imminent torture of that devil personified, Inspector Govilkar, by saying that you, a known bad character and history-sheeter, were his employee, and the stack of currency notes which you had burnt in the lift to commit suicide was his money. Such a person is dead and you felt nothing, did nothing! Jeete, you can ignore someone when the going is good for them, but not when they’re suffering like this …’

‘Drop that story, Daddy. Now tell me, why did you call?’

‘Somebody is asking for you.’

‘Who?’

‘Somebody who has a task for you.’

‘What task?’

‘You ask me what task! Don’t you know?’

‘Some vault needs to be busted?’

‘Or something like a vault needs to be busted.’

‘And only I can do it?’

‘Only you can do it perfectly. Jeete, the caller was precise he wanted the same lockman who undid the vault of Panaji’s Double Bull Casino, who opened the vault of Pune’s Hotel Blue Star, and who hit the coin convention. He said he wants the same man.’

‘Did he know I was that man?’

‘Yes. He asked for you by name. He said he wants ace lockman Badrinath. And since he asked me, he knows that I am your post office, your middle link … contact source. He must know that if you are not accessible directly, then one has to call Big Daddy Eduardo in Valpoi.’

‘Is it someone we know from the old days?’

‘Or someone who knows someone we know from the old days.’

‘Hmm. What name did he give?’

‘He didn’t give one. Only gave a phone number … mobile. Said if you call him, he’ll tell you everything. Now note down the number.’

‘That I will do. But what else did he say?’

‘He gave you an option.’

‘What option?’

‘You can either become their heist partner, or restrict yourself to the vault-busting part. If you take the first role, you will be an equal partner. And if you take the second one, you will only get paid for busting the vault.’

‘Where is this going to happen? In Mumbai?’

‘Don’t know … he did not say … even when I specifically asked him. He said only Badrinath should be concerned about these details. He will tell only you when you contact him. Now tell me, will you do it?

‘Daddy, what would you have done had you been in my place?’

There was silence on the line as Eduardo seemed to think it over.

‘I would have said no,’ Eduardo said finally.

‘Is that so?’

‘Jeete, I am your post office. If I receive any post, isn’t it my duty to forward it to you?’

‘Of course.’

‘That I did. But you must say no this time. Don’t look for any new trouble for some time …’

His lawyer Vinod Rawal’s warning echoed in Jeet Singh’s ears:

‘Your acquittal is a slap in the face of the police department. Luckily for you, the new

sho

who replaced Inspector Govilkar at Tardeo police station is not as hardcore as his predecessor, otherwise the police could have built ten new cases against you. My suggestion is, don’t cross their line for some time. They can rearrest you in the same case even after an acquittal, claiming to have gathered some new evidence which could prove your guilt. They can even push for a retrial in the court.’

‘That lawyer of mine,’ Jeet Singh said, ‘also told me the same thing.’

‘He was right,’ said Eduardo. ‘Jeete, I repeat, no fresh trouble for some time. Keep to the straight and narrow for a while. That’s what would be best for you, no?’

‘Yes.’

‘Now look, it was a miracle that last month the court gave you the benefit of doubt in that open-and-shut robbery case, and actually acquitted you …’

‘But I got into big trouble immediately after coming out … picked up a fight with the people who ran an illegal midnight club called Noble House under full police protection. They robbed you, snatched one lakh rupees from you and when you resisted, nearly thrashed you to death. You were lying there in a municipal hospital dying and I was searching like mad for my dear guest from Goa all over the city …’

‘You did all that for me. You did not do it willingly, it was imposed upon you. You avenged me like a good son. Who does these things for a mere acquaintance these days?’

‘You called me a mere acquaintance, Daddy? You bailed me out, spent the money from your own pocket because I am a mere acquaintance? You stood by me during all my trials, celebrated my release by … what were you saying that time? … Yes … painting the town red. You did it all just because I am a mere acquaintance?’

‘Oh no, dear boy, never. You are like my own son.’

‘Then was it wrong for the son to flare up in rage after seeing Big Daddy in a battered state? Was it wrong if I vowed to avenge you, to thrash them the way they had thrashed you? If the son did something as part of his duty, was it a favour to Big Daddy?’

‘Oh no, Jeete, but if you had been exposed you would have come under fire again. And you would definitely have been put behind bars.’

‘But I wasn’t!’

‘Because God Almighty saved you. I will go this Sunday to light a big candle at St. Francis Church especially for you.’

‘Do go. Cursed people like me need a lot of prayers.’

‘Why cursed, Jeete? Now you are free.’

‘Yes, but for how long?’

‘Till the Heavenly Father protects you, till his blessings are with you. Never give up hope, Jeete, always keep that in mind. If you face any problem, then think that the Heavenly Father is testing you. No problem is for ever. No?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then what is your decision? If that person calls again, what shall I tell him?

‘Tell him no. I don’t want this job, and that is final.’

‘I’ll tell him. You may like to take down his mobile number …’

‘What for? I said no to the job, now do I have to be friends with him?’

Eduardo laughed out loud.

‘ok, I’ll disconnect now.’

‘Take care, Daddy.’

‘I will.’

11778.png

Gailo stepped into Jeet Singh’s hovel.

He looked thinner, but was in a cheerful mood. Four months ago, back in January, he was badly thrashed not once but twice, both times due to Jeet Singh. First a mobster named Bada Batata beat him black and blue to get Jeet Singh’s address. Then, before he could recover and flee the city on Jeet Singh’s advice, he was held by Inspector Govilkar, who beat him so badly in Tardeo police station that even Gailo’s angels cried for mercy. He agreed to give in writing that he had earlier given a wrong statement in court to save Jeet Singh, whom he had rightfully identified in the identification parade as an accused in the Super Self-service Store robbery. Govilkar might have killed him in the police station had he not agreed to sign that statement. But later dcp Pradhan, Govilkar’s senior officer, had himself destroyed the statement for God knows what reasons, and hostile witness Gailo was exonerated of all charges, while Jeet Singh was acquitted due to lack of evidence.

Gailo was a taxi driver; he lived in a chawl in Jambuwadi, Dhobi Talao with a bunch of his friends and fellow taxi-drivers.

‘Gailo!’ Jeet Singh said happily. ‘Come inside. Why are you standing at the door?’

‘Coming,’ said Gailo with a smile.

‘How come you are here?’

‘I wanted to meet you. When I reached that new flat of yours at Kalba Devi in Vithalwadi, it was locked. I asked the neighbours and somebody told me that you had said you were going to your old place and did not say when you were going to return. So I thought maybe I should try this place.’

‘You thought right. I am here, am I not?’

‘Yes, you are.’

‘Now tell me, how are you?’

‘All fit, by the grace of God Almighty and the active help of Jeet Singh, the lockmaster.’

‘That’s nice. But you were not in Mumbai the last two weeks. I met your driver friend Shamshi, I met Abdi also, both of them said you were out somewhere. But nobody knew where you were and why. So, where were you?’

‘I was on a long haul,’ Gailo said with pride, ‘I was driving an all-India permit taxi, showing Maharashtra to a foreign couple. I was out only for twelve days, not two weeks.’

‘But, Gailo, you don’t have an all-India permit taxi.’

‘No, I don’t. I got it from another driver friend, gave him my local taxi. It was a whirlwind tour; drove day and night. About 5000 kilometres in twelve days. Saved about twenty big Gandhis after giving some thank-you amount to the taxi owner as well. And do you know how much the couple gave me as a tip while parting?’

‘How much?’

‘Five thousand!’

‘Great. So currently our Gailo has 25,000 bucks in his pocket?’

‘No, Jeete, this sad story is the reason why I have come here.’

‘What sad story?’

‘I am coming to that. That’s why I have come here, to tell you the story. But first you tell me, what are you doing in Chinchpokli? Why are you resting on your ass here?’

‘Because from now on I am going to live here.’

‘What? What did you say?’

‘This is my home now, as it used to be for years.’

‘You don’t say! And what about that fancy flat in Kalba Devi?’

‘That is rented. This place is my own. This month’s rent of that flat is paid, so I will continue visiting it for some time. But by the end of the month, I will move here permanently.’

‘But why?’

‘The rent is 22,000. I don’t want to spend that much on rent. I want to have some savings.’

‘You are pulling my leg, right?’

‘Forget about it. Now, tell me your sad story. How did you lose those twenty-five biggies you earned?’

‘It’s a long story, Jeete.’

‘I have all the time in the world. You must too, or you wouldn’t be here.’

‘ok, listen.’ Gailo paused for a moment, thought over as if to decide where to begin, and then started speaking in a low, steady voice: ‘That D’Costa, my friend and fellow taxi-driver, he took me to a card game the day before yesterday …’

‘What? Have you started gambling?’

‘Oh no, nothing like that. But the recently earned 25,000 bucks were burning a hole in my pocket. I got carried away. And it was D’Costa who came up with the idea, so I thought I’d risk half the amount.’

‘And you went ahead?’

‘Yes, that’s how the story got sad.’

‘You lost half the money?’

‘No, all of it.’

‘But you just said you bet only half the amount?’

‘Oh, I did not lose it there. I did not lose it in the game. But later, something else happened.’

‘Bloody hell, you can’t speak straight, can you?’

‘And you can’t listen without interrupting.’

‘Sorry, I won’t interrupt you again. But tell me one thing first.’

‘What?’

‘Where was the game being held?’

‘In Panvel. At a motor garage that usually closes by six in the evening. There was a room above it, which could be reached by a circular iron staircase in the back, just like a fire escape. It was a big room, nice and comfortable. A carpet this thick on the floor. Air-conditioning and the works.’

‘How many people were there?’

‘Seven, but only six were playing. Later I came to know that the seventh person was the organizer. He collected ten per cent of the win, which was the security.’

‘ok, go ahead.’

‘Hmm … so there were already six players there and when D’Costa and I joined the game, it became eight.’

‘D’Costa played as well?’

‘Only for ten minutes, then he left.’

‘Where did he go?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t see him there after ten minutes.’

‘So he was a pusher. It was his job to bring people to the game who had money, and who could be fooled easily.’

‘Jeete, he is my friend, my fellow driver, my brother in faith. How could he do that? How could he cheat me?’

‘This is Kalyug, you never know.’

‘You are right. But that isn’t where I was cheated. I bloody won three lakhs there.’

‘What?’

‘Yes, by the grace of God I won. My luck was on fire that day. I won in the very first game and I kept on winning till the end.’

‘Strange, what was the game?’

‘Teen Patti.’

‘How long did it last?’

‘I don’t know. I wound up around two. I got up at 1.30 when I was up by three peti, but then the other fellows in the game said it was wrong to pull out abruptly.’

‘So what was their point? That one must give prior notice before leaving?’

‘Yes, something like that. They said that suddenly pulling out of the game was wrong, and I must give them a chance to recover their loss.’

‘And then?’

‘I gave them a chance. And also gave them half-an-hour’s notice, that I would call it quits at 2 a.m.’

‘Then?’

‘I won 75,000 more in those thirty minutes.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, plus I had my own 25,000 with me. At 2 a.m., I left the place with four peti.’

‘Gailo, you made four peti there. Is this a sad story or a glad story?’

‘It’s a sad story. I am coming to that part now. I had a suitcase in the taxi just half full of my clothes. So I put the money in that suitcase, placed it in the boot and left. I took the Sion-Panvel highway back like I had on my way to the game. I crossed Thane creek over onto a long desolate stretch. And that’s where they robbed me.’

‘What?’

‘A big car came up from behind, with two people in it. Both had hats on and their faces were covered with black hankies so that only their eyes were visible. First they fired a shot to intimidate me, then intercepted my taxi by blocking my way. I had to stop the taxi and within seconds they took hold of me. The one with the gun dug it into my temple and said he would put a bullet in it if I didn’t tell him where the money was. So I had to tell him. His partner took the suitcase out of the boot and then both of them fled in their car. I sat there for some time, thinking like an idiot that it was a nightmare that would end soon. But it was not a nightmare, it was for real.’

‘So this is our Gailo’s sad story.’

‘Yes.’

‘Who were those people?’

‘Robbers.’

‘So they were, but how come they knew you had money?’

‘I don’t know how, but they definitely knew it. Their modus operandi itself suggested that they had precise information.’

‘Had it been a routine road hold-up, they would have searched your pockets, snatched your wallet, your gold chain with the gold cross and ring, etc. Only then would they have asked whether there was any more money in the taxi.’

‘Exactly! Jeete, when I realized that it was no bloody dream, I immediately had the same thought. I bloody left the game and within minutes some robbers turned up and looted me.’

‘Somebody from the game made a call to somebody somewhere that you had four lakhs, hence the hold-up.’

Gailo was already shaking his head.

‘Don’t you think it is possible?’ Jeet Singh asked.

‘It is possible. But this is not how things happened.’

‘How could you know?’

‘I know, by the grace of God Almighty.’

‘What do you know?’

‘Jeete, I identified the man with the gun.’

‘You said his face was covered and he had a hat on …’

‘Yes, but still I identified him.’

‘Surprising, but how?’

‘Identification is not made just by face. There are other ways too.’

‘Be specific.’

‘The tip of the gunman’s middle finger in his right hand was missing.’

‘But was he not holding the gun in that hand?’

‘No, the gun was in his left hand. He was left-handed. He kept his right fist clenched so that I could not see the middle finger. But when he opened the door of taxi to get out, I saw his right hand. Bloody one-third of the middle finger was missing.’

‘He was left-handed, and the tip of one of his fingers in the right hand was missing, that’s why you could identify him without seeing his face?’

‘Yes, that’s what I am trying to say.’

‘Who was he?’

‘The organizer of the game.’

‘Oh! And the second one?’

‘He could be anybody. He was the driver. He drove the man’s car.’

‘Hmm. So you were robbed by that organizer?’

‘Yes, nobody else could have known so early that I had that much money.’

‘Why do you think he did that?’

‘Because of jealousy. Some new fellow comes to his game, makes big money and leaves; he could not digest that. He could not digest that a bloody taxi driver came and made so much money in his game. He thought snatching it back from me was easy. And how very correct he was in thinking that!’

‘Hmm … so this is your sad story?’

‘Yes, this is it. My bloody four peti …’

‘Your bloody 25,000,’ Jeet Singh said with a grin.

‘What … what did you say?’

‘Gailo, your own money was only 25,000 rupees. The rest of it came in a flash and went accordingly. You mustn’t regret it.’

‘You are right there, but …’

‘And as far as the 25,000 is concerned, I am ready to give it to you.’

‘Why you?’

‘Am I not your brother? As a brother, I’ll compensate you for your loss.’

‘For that I am thankful from the core of my heart. But Jeete, did I come here for that?’

‘You have something else in mind?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Then I am sorry to have made this offer. Go ahead, I am listening.’

‘Jeete, I spent all of yesterday gathering information about that organizer. I talked to taxi drivers, underworld informers, even bribed a constable in Panvel police station. All these efforts brought some results. I finally know who that fellow is.’

‘Who is he?’

‘His name is Mangesh Gable, and organizing the card game is not his real line of business. I got hold of one of his close acquaintances, who told me that organizing such games was a casual thing which he managed for his close friends on their demand.’

‘What is his real business?’

‘I am coming to that. But first let me tell you that yesterday I visited the site of that card game again.’

‘Gailo, you took quite a risk!’

‘I went there with D’Costa and Abdi with such an arrangement that had there been a problem, one of them would have informed the police.’

‘Oh!’

‘Yesterday a man with a gun was sitting by the back stairs, guarding the place. When we told him we wanted to go to the game, he said what game. When we told him we had been there the day before as well, the bastard still said what game. When I told him Mangesh Gable’s game, he said there was no person of that name there. I asked him to let me go up and see for myself what was going on, and he said the room upstairs was locked. And when D’Costa asked him what was he doing there if the place was locked, he said it was none of our business.’

‘It means that Gable expected you to visit.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Maybe the game was moved, or even if it was running, you were not to be allowed there.’

‘But why? I know who robbed me, but how can they know I had identified him?’

‘You’re right. Maybe he was taking no chances.’

‘I don’t know what he did but my visit there wasn’t fruitful.’

‘What fruit were you expecting? Had he been there, would you have caught him by the neck and asked him to give you back your money?’

‘Jeete, had I been so daring, I would not have been robbed.’

‘Then what could you have done by going there again?’

‘I wanted to see how he would react when he saw me there.’

‘And what purpose would that have served?’

‘It would have confirmed that he was the person who had robbed me.’

‘How come?’

‘I had a plan.’

‘What plan?’

‘Had I met him there, I would have dropped a hint.’

‘What hint? That you knew he was the person who robbed you?’

‘Yes. And that I knew what his real business was.’

‘What’s his real business?’

‘He is a sort of a fence.’

‘Sort of, not actual fence?’

‘No.’

‘What is his real business then?’

‘Jeete, he acts as a sort of commission agent between the guys who buy and sell smuggled goods. A go-between, you know.’

‘That’s a fence, isn’t it?’

‘No. A fence is a person who buys stolen goods at throwaway prices and then searches for a customer who can buy them at a far greater price. This man is an organizer. He never handles the goods, never touches them. He only organizes the transfer of goods from this person to that for a cut. He never handles the money paid by one party to the other for the goods. Nor does he handle the goods. Do you understand?’

‘I don’t, but what I do understand, Gailo, is that had you been successful, then D’Costa would have collected only your corpse from there. Or probably been turned into one himself.’

‘I took precautions.’

‘What precautions?’

‘Have you forgotten that Abdi was also with us? Had something bad happened, Abdi would have called the police and the constable I bribed—Daya Khandse—would have helped bail us out of the situation.’

‘All these fancy precautions would not have worked, Gailo. It was good that you did not come across Mangesh Gable there. Otherwise you would have met a nasty end. And D’Costa and Abdi too.’

‘You are trying to scare me.’

‘One must be scared when times are bad.’

‘Come on, Jeete, why should I be scared? My friends are with me. My special friend Jeet Singh taala-chaabi is with me. Jesus is with me, no?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good! Now let me speak.’

‘Go ahead, I’m listening.’

‘First let me explain the special, fancy work which this Mangesh Gable usually does. Jeete, what I came to know about his set-up suggests that he organizes the transfer of only goods that don’t occupy much space but are high-priced … that may be accommodated in one briefcase but cost crores. Now tell me, what do you think could be such goods?’

‘You tell me.’

‘Diamonds, high-end mobile phones, watches, narcotics!’

‘Even narcotics?’

‘Especially narcotics. Jeete. One kilogram of ninety-nine per cent pure, uncut, number four