Diamonds Are for All

By Surender Mohan Pathak

Taxi driver Jeet Singh is cruising for fare when a man being tailed by a bunch of goons blocks his way. Entrusting Jeet Singh with a briefcase full of secrets, classified government documents to be delivered in lieu of a huge compensation to a girl in Jogeshwari, he jumps off the moving taxi. The next morning, his dead body is found by the railway track in a suburb, while Jeet Singh finds he has nobody to give the briefcase to for the girl died the previous night from a massive cardiac arrest. He decides to open the briefcase, and then a free-for-all begins for diamonds worth millions.Diamonds Are for All, a spectacular new novel from the Jeet Singh series is being published simultaneously with the Hindi edition, Heera Pheri.

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins
• Release date: Jun 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9789352644421

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

WEDNESDAY: 19 NOVEMBER

Naveen Solunke presented himself to his boss.

His boss was Amar Nayak, a renowned don of the Mumbai underworld – a gangster, a smuggler and a racketeer, all rolled into one.

Solunke was not only his deputy but also his top henchman, who by his physical appearance, would have been taken for a municipality clerk.

Of late, many things had happened in the world of Mumbai bhais, due to which competition was at a low ebb. They had gained considerably from the weakening of their rivals and it had made them more powerful. The big don Mehboob Firangi – who was a mighty force to be reckoned with, second only in power and prestige to gangster and black-marketeer-turned-political leader Behramji Contractor – had shot his three top lieutenants and then himself, too. Ballu Kanaujia and his sidekick Sartaj Bakshi were murdered in very mysterious circumstances, and the third big don Salman Ghazi was caught in the web of law enforcement authorities. He had such a nasty court case against him that though he never officially declared his retirement from bhaigiri, the whole underworld knew that the only alternative left to him for survival was retirement – if not voluntary, then forced.

So, if there was a don worth his salt in the Mumbai underworld after Behramji, it was Amar Nayak, who always prayed for the death of Behramji but never had the courage to take any steps in that direction. He was well aware that it would be suicidal to try.

Of late, the talk doing the rounds in the underworld was that Behramji Contractor – who was the supremo of the Maratha Manch Party, with a strength of forty MLAs in the House and three MPs at the Centre – was back to his old, nefarious trade of smuggling and black marketeering. But this time, as a precaution, he had his faithful guy Bejan Moravala as his frontman. So, if ever there was any finger pointed at him in this regard, it would automatically turn to Bejan Moravala, always keeping Behramji above board and stain-free; it was expected of Moravala to be ever ready to take the blame.

The reason for Behramji returning to his old trade was that his party had had to face a stunning defeat in the recent Goa elections, where his party couldn’t win even a single seat. He came under such huge financial pressure due to his rout that to compensate for his losses he had no alternative but to return to his old, tried and trusted illegal activities. Immediately thereafter, he found himself the focus of attention from the government law enforcement agencies, so much so that once he had to face some ruthless grilling from Mumbai police’s top brass. But nothing could be established against him, though the fact of the matter was that Behramji was never out of his smuggling business; the only difference was that now Bejan Moravala stood as a wall between him and the law enforcement agencies.

However, these developments worked in Amar Nayak’s favour and he started to push his weight around in the smuggling world.

Naveen Solunke respectfully bowed to his boss.

Nayak nodded and offered him a seat.

‘So, what’s new?’ Nayak asked.

‘There’s news from the docks,’ Solunke said, ‘very important news that I felt you must know.’

‘And what might that be?’

‘You know our man at the docks – guy named Chitalkar – who’s a foreman there. He says of late the Customs department has started acting tough. They say there’d been a complaint that some Customs people and the dock workers of Indira Dock were hand-in-glove in smuggling activities prevalent there.’

‘What’s new in that?’

‘But the complaint …’

‘The complaints are always there but the show goes on.’

‘But they are acting tough!’

‘To show off. The show goes on.’

‘But, boss, this time the Customs guys are really being tough. They say that there are orders from the top for them to act ruthlessly and spare no one.’

‘Hmm. Can this affect our … trade?’

‘Yes, boss.’

‘That must not happen. There’s a big consignment of diamonds arriving from Dubai tomorrow. Our carrier Hussain Daki will be landing at the port with the consignment at six o’clock in the evening. You know that, right?’

‘Of course, I know. That’s why I’m here.’

‘Arre, what was more important? Coming here or doing something for tomorrow?’

‘The latter sure is more important. But I have to get your nod first. Boss, Chitalkar informed us about the problem and has suggested a solution, too.’

‘And what is that?’

‘He says that in the coming days, it won’t be possible to clear out smuggled goods as before. We do have a setting there at the Customs, but the consignment might still be forfeited. And our carrier could also be apprehended.’

‘I quite understand that. You’d better come to the point. Tell me what Chitalkar is suggesting we do.’

‘He says a part of the consignment must be declared. Our consignment tomorrow is worth twenty crores. It is imperative that half of it is declared – there will be a regular receipt of the duty paid and Customs clearance certificate. By declaring half, Daki will be able to get past Customs the entire consignment.’

‘Chitalkar guarantees this?’

‘He does, indeed. Also, we have the guarantee of the man at the Customs front office, who has a setting with us.’

‘How much will the Customs duty be on half the consignment?’

‘One crore.’

‘That much!’

‘We’ll still be benefited.’

‘Hmm.’

There was silence for a few moments.

‘But,’ Nayak broke the silence, ‘when you say the Customs are getting unusually strict, how will our whole consignment be out by paying part duty?’

‘Try to understand, boss.’

‘Solunke, don’t start a quiz programme. You make me understand.’

‘Boss, the total lot will be presented at the Customs but, courtesy our man there, the lot will be under evaluated. The twenty-crore consignment will be evaluated as ten and the duty will be paid accordingly. Easy!’

Nayak stared at him.

Solunke gulped and looked away.

‘For this service,’ Nayak said, ‘our man at Customs, too, will have to be serviced?’

‘That goes without saying,’ Solunke said.

‘How much for him?’

‘Twenty lakh.’

‘Hmm.’ Nayak brooded for a few moments, then spoke, ‘You tell our man at Customs … what’s his name?’

‘Viresh Hazare.’

‘You tell him that if he wants twenty lakh, he must evaluate the consignment at two or three crores.’

‘That’s not possible, boss.’

‘You must not speak without trying …’

‘But I did, already. I suggested five, then six, but he wasn’t willing to go under ten.’

‘Hmm. So, we have to invest one crore twenty lakh rupees to lay our hands on the lot worth twenty crores!’

‘Boss,’ Solunke said in a low tone, ‘we’ve spent only six crores on the whole lot …’

‘How do you know?’

‘Boss, you yourself told me.’

‘And promptly forgot that I told you!’

‘It’s no big deal, boss, you’ve got to keep hundreds of things at a time in your mind. You sure are liable to forget one or two once in a while … the way it happened this time.’

‘How will our man from Dubai have money to pay Customs duty?’

‘He’ll telephone us. We’ll have to make the money available to him at Customs. Our man there will help us do that. He guarantees that everything will go smoothly without a hitch.’

‘And if his guarantee fails?’

‘Then it’ll be too bad. Then Hussain Daki will be charged with diamond smuggling and it will be a big let-down. We’ll lose our consignment as well as our guy.’

‘This must not happen.’

‘Boss, let’s hope to Ganapati that it won’t.’

‘Who will explain the big amount presented at Customs?’

‘Daki will. He’ll claim that a deal had been struck in advance with a local diamond dealer that he would take care of the duty for Customs clearance.’

‘Daki knows that? He knows what he has to say if the need arises?’

‘He sure does.’

‘What if there’s a question about the local diamond dealer?"

‘Chitalkar will ensure it’ll not happen. It’ll not happen since everything has been arranged in advance.’

‘What if it still happens?’

‘Then a dealer will present himself to explain things and after he’s done that he will vanish forever.’

‘Who has made this arrangement?’

‘Hussain Daki. And his boss in Dubai through whom this deal has been set. Boss, once the consignment is out of port, even Daki will vanish forever.’

‘What if there’s an enquiry?’

‘Why would there be one when everything is pre-set?’

‘Solunke, don’t ask me questions. Answer me.’

‘Boss, you imagine things. If there is an enquiry, it will come to light that the local diamond dealer has no knowledge of any such deal, someone fraudulently used his name.’

‘If something still goes wrong, will we be involved in the enquiry?’

‘No, never. Boss, every single person involved is absolutely faithful to us … to you. They will lay down their lives but won’t utter a word about you.’

‘Good. I’m glad.’

‘So, what’s your answer … your final answer?’

‘I concur to everything. I agree to all the arrangements.’

‘Meaning the money will be arranged urgently?’

‘Yes. But all the same, I still have to say something. Now, listen to me carefully.’

‘Yes, boss.’

‘I want Hussain Daki’s services only up to his exit from the docks with the consignment. I don’t want him to have possession beyond the dockyard. Once he is out, his duty is done, his responsibility is over.’

‘Is that so?’ Solunke said dubiously.

‘Yes. He was directed to reach Manori because the address on his passport is that of Manori, and it would be deemed natural if from the docks he went to Manori. Later he was to hand over the diamonds to you at Manori’s Sidhi Vinayak Beach Resort, or alternatively he could be asked to come here to me at Malad. But now I want him to abandon this programme. Now I want him to call it a day right at the harbour. Any problem?’

‘No, no problem, but … will he know of this new arrangement?’

‘No, he only knows that from the harbour he has to go to Manori. He’ll come to know now of this new programme.’

‘But why so, boss? Don’t you trust Hussain Daki any more?’

‘Arre, this is not a matter of trust, this is a matter of precaution.’

‘But …’

‘Try to understand. Apply your mind. He’s not our man one hundred per cent. Manori is a long way from the harbour. So, where’s the harm in taking some precautions? Where’s the harm if once the diamonds are clear from the Customs and harbour, they are handled by a guy who is tried and trusted and who is a hundred per cent with us?’

‘Oh! Now I follow. So the consignment …’

‘… Will be taken from him at the harbour itself and he will be free to be on the lam. One of our most trusted persons will meet Daki at the harbour, relieve him of the diamonds and deliver them safely to us.’

‘At Manori? At Sidhi Vinayak Beach Resort?’

‘Dumdum! Here! At Malad West. He can be allowed to visit this place as he’ll be our most tried and trusted guy.’

‘Which you think Daki is not?’

‘Daki is all right. He’s proved himself useful to us. He has earned the trust of the Dubai people. But he doesn’t work exclusively for us. He can’t be called our guy in the stricter sense of the word. I want our own, exclusively our own, guy to handle the stuff beyond a point.’

‘And who might that be?’

‘You tell me.’

Solunke nodded and gave the issue earnest thought.

‘Savant!’ he said enthusiastically. ‘Shishir Savant!’

‘He’ll handle everything?’

‘Of course he will … and perfectly, at that. But do permit me to say something in this matter.’

‘Speak.’

‘Boss, when you want to be cautious, why don’t you be cautious to the hilt?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s a matter of big money. One may not get dishonest but strange, unanticipated things do happen once in a while. A lone guy can get ideas when he is in charge of a consignment of twenty crores, but if he’s not alone and is accompanied by another guy, he won’t dare have ideas about the lot. The same thing will be applicable to the other guy.’

‘Maybe you’re right there, but suppose Savant knows nothing about the type and value of the consignment?’

‘That won’t be possible, boss. It’s a big project, we’ll have to brief him in advance about everything – and if, as per my suggestion, there’re two of them, then both of them – or else he won’t be fully alert and responsible.’

‘Hmm. Okay, I’m with you in your two-guy idea. Now tell me who might be the other one.’

‘Boss, I’ll have to have some time to come up with the right name. I’ll let you know about it by the evening.’

‘Okay.’

‘I’ll take leave of you now.’ Solunke stood up. ‘I’ll return at eight.’

Nayak nodded.

After much deliberation, the name with which Solunke came up was that of Jocum Fernando. He was a young Goanese guy, about thirty years of age, clean-shaven, fair-skinned, tall and thin. He kept his flowing hair styled like the film stars, with long sideburns. His favourite outfit, which he wore round the year, was denim jeans and a jacket clubbed with a red-checked shirt or a round-necked T-shirt. He was a conceited man who saw himself as nothing less than a film star. He’d been a part of the Amar Nayak gang for the last four years. He always got special treatment in the gang as he had a pleasing personality that precluded him to be taken as a mawali.

He was Goanese but he always grandiloquently claimed that he had a Portuguese background. He frequently boasted that his forefathers had been important officers in the Portuguese regime, the veracity of which was doubtful. He always claimed that all the rest of his family went to Portugal when Goa was liberated in 1961 after 450 years of Portuguese control. Only his father preferred to stay behind in Goa, which was in India now.

He was twenty-two when he moved from Pernem, Goa, to Mumbai, dreaming of becoming a film star. He ran from pillar to post in Bollywood for two years but to no avail. Then he made friends with a few guys from the underworld and considered trying his hand in bhaigiri. For two years he was a rolling stone in that field, too, then luck favoured him and he became a part of the Amar Nayak gang, where he started as a footman or, if it sounds any better, the sidekick of some senior bhai. For two years he was a nonentity in that dubious trade and then his good luck kicked in and he got a chance to act independently on an errand, in which he performed wonderfully well. This earned him the personal attention of Naveen Solunke, who, he knew, was the right-hand man of the big don Amar Nayak.

Now, he was a ‘sort-of-important’ guy of the gang who was respected and considered above the ordinary footmen.

He had the inside information of a consignment of diamonds that was coming from Dubai and his instinct prompted him to assume that he might fit in somewhere in that operation. Based on his assumption, he had made certain advance preparations of his own, which could be of use only if his high hopes bore fruit.

Every single guy like Jocum Fernando, who exists as a cog in the vast machinery of the crime world, always has the regret that he can never prosper like the top guys of the crime world. He remains only an underdog or also-ran in spite of having blackened his heart and soul to the hilt. So every such guy nourishes a secret dream in his heart that there sure will be a day in his life when he strikes only once and wins it all.

When Naveen Solunke summoned him, honoured him with a seat by his side and explained in detail the assignment for which he was especially chosen, his heart already started thumping with grand and exciting anticipations before Solunke was even halfway through his narration.

Diamonds worth twenty crores!

In his possession!

Then Solunke completed his instructions and Fernando realized that they were not going to be in his sole possession; Shishir Savant was also included in the operation. Savant was five years older than him and was a senior member of the gang. But instead of getting disheartened by that news, he, before he was excused from the presence of Solunke, started thinking of a scheme by which he could eliminate the hindrance called Savant or else use him to serve his own purpose. Anyway, he had time till the evening next day, during which he could polish his scheme further or concoct an entirely new scheme with Alisha’s help.

Alisha Vaz was Goanese like him and had been his beloved for four years. She had also been his wife for the last two of those years, but no one in the gang knew about it. He took special precautions to keep it a secret from everybody. The reason for this secrecy was that a married footman was frowned upon in the Amar Nayak gang as it was automatically assumed that he was bound to get emotional and shrink from taking big risks. Such a man was not shown the door, of course, but he was never assigned the dare-devil jobs which carried bigger commendations, bigger rewards.

Alisha was a pretty girl who worked as a salesgirl in a garments showroom at Andheri and lived in a small rented flat at Jogeshwari. Her flat was in a neighbourhood where the residents were mostly Goanese; and so, the locals had dubbed it Little Goa. Since the Goanese had a natural element of brotherhood, nobody raised an eyebrow when Alisha claimed that Jocum was her cousin visiting her.

Anyway, Jocum’s secret that he was a married man, was intact. In the gang, no one knew that Alisha existed and in Little Goa he was gladly accepted as ‘Alisha Baby’s cousin’.

He reached Jogeshwari.

Alisha was very happy to see him and welcomed him with a hug.

‘What’re you doing?’ Jocum asked, just to say something.

‘Nothing,’ she said demurely. ‘I just got in.’ She looked at Jocum with her heart in her eyes. ‘I’ll do it now.’

‘What?’

‘Dumdum! Ignorant ass!’

‘Oh! You mean that?’

‘Yes, that. Don’t you understand anything?’

‘I do now.’

‘Thank God! Now, why are you standing there like a telegraph pole? Move! Act!’

‘N-no, not yet.’

‘Why not?’

‘This time I’ll stay here all night.’

‘Oh! That’s good news.’

‘As for now, you just sit with me. I have something serious to talk about.’

‘Okay! But coffee first …?’

‘No.’

‘Or a drink?’

‘Oh, no, I don’t need it.’

‘Man, I need it.’

‘Oh! Okay, a drink.’

‘Whiskey?’

‘No, vodka today. With coconut water. To say cheers with you.’

‘Good! Two vodkas with coconut water coming up right away, my lord and master.’

She went to the kitchen and returned with two drinks on a tray.

They sat close to each other and said ‘cheers’.

‘Now, tell me,’ Alisha said, ‘what’s that serious thing you want to talk about?’

‘Honey,’ Jocum said earnestly, ‘the opportunity I was looking forward to has finally arrived.’

‘Explain.’

Jocum did.

Alisha listened with attention.

‘The dream I always cherished,’ Jocum concluded, ‘was that when I come into big money, without wasting a minute, I would get out of this place with you and go straight to Pernem. Nobody here knows I originally belong to it. In Panaji, I have a trusted friend who has a trade based on hawala dealings. I could hand over the moolah to him and start with you for Manila where, after deducting his charges, my friend could arrange payment in dollars or in euro or in the local currency, Peso. Okay?’

‘Yeah.’

‘This scheme of mine would work only if I could get my hands alone on big money. But now the state of affairs is such that the moolah will be in the hands of two guys, one being me and the other a guy called Shishir Savant, who has a better standing than me in the gang. Now to counter this complication, another scheme has occurred to me.’

‘And what scheme is that?’

‘Shishir scrammed with the moolah.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Arre, if I can be on the lookout for the big bucks, so can some other guy, no?’

‘Yes. So the other guy is Shishir Savant?’

‘Yes.’

‘He runs away with the big money – which is diamonds worth twenty crores, in this case?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you, who have equal responsibility to safeguard the lot, let him run away?’

‘I try my best to stop him; I put my life at stake in my effort, but don’t succeed.’

‘You put your life at stake, eh?’

‘Of course. The other guy – Shishir Savant – attacks me. He shoots me and escapes. It’s my good fortune that the bullet strikes me in the shoulder. How’s that?’

The already serious Alisha got more serious. She silently swallowed a mouthful of vodka from her glass.

‘How’s that?’ Jocum repeated insistently.

‘What’ll happen to Savant?’

‘Exactly what’s required.’

‘What’s required?’

‘Finish.’

‘When the dead body is recovered …’

‘It won’t be recovered. I’ll make the corpse disappear.’

‘How’ll you do that?’

‘I’ll tie weights to the corpse and let it sink to the bottom of the ocean. It will never be recovered. The bastard shot his partner and scrammed, spat on his loyalty to the boss.’

‘You mean he does what you intend to do?’

Jocum looked perplexed. He stared at Alisha.

‘Now you’ll commit a murder! The only crime that you’ve not yet committed! You’ll commit that now!’

‘My dear, you should have thought of these things when I first stepped into the hell-hole of crime. Now that I am deep in it, what’s the use of harping on it now? What is the use of being disgusted by it now?’

‘You seem to have forgotten that people are hanged for the crime of murder.’

‘When they are caught.’

‘This is a false consolation.’

‘When the dead body won’t be recovered, how’ll it be established that a murder was committed? That wretched guy actually scrammed with the diamonds.’

‘The way you will?’

‘Yes.’

‘And won’t get caught?’

‘No chance. I’ll be in the Philippines …’

‘Abu Salem, too, was there when he was caught and brought back to India.’

Jocum looked disturbed; he took a big gulp of his vodka.

‘Who brought him back?’ he said, then went on boldly, ‘The police brought him back – after getting him legally extradited from there. Because they knew beforehand that Abu Salem was in the Philippines. What do we have to do with the police? What do we have to do with anybody? Bloody hell, where one guy has gone when he leaves Mumbai …’

‘Two. You’re forgetting me—your wife.’

‘… How will anybody know where he lands?’ Jocum ploughed on.

‘If his fate is against him …’

‘Bloody hell! Why should fate be against him? Arre, you know about everything since the very beginning – about my scheme, about my dream, about the biggest ambition of my life – why are you putting a monkey wrench in the machine now?’

‘You yourself are doing it, man. You yourself are putting a monkey wrench in the machine. Earlier, when did you speak of murder?’

‘It was now that a change occurred in the scheme.’

‘Murder is an extreme crime. I’ll have no part of it.’

‘But it has become essential now.’

‘No!’

‘Bloody silly, stupid idiot! Arre, who can accomplish such a job without taking a risk? Bloody big job, big risk!’

‘And big punishment! I don’t want to be a widow.’

‘I will bloody hit you if you don’t stop behaving like a sissy. Arre, nothing will happen to me. There’ll just be a bullet in the shoulder. Everything will be all right in fifteen or twenty days at the most.’

She kept quiet.

Jocum emptied his glass and put it on the table.

‘Go, refreshen the drinks,’ he said with authority.

She arose and went to kitchen with the tray and returned with new drinks.

‘My honey child,’ Jocum grabbed a drink and said in a sweet tone, ‘don’t you worry. Don’t you have silly, disturbing ideas …’

‘Jocum,’ she said in a shaky voice, ‘I want you to be reminded of something. I want you to be reminded of a story that you yourself narrated to me.’

‘What story?’

‘Ballu Kanaujia – who is dead now – had a guy named Sawan Jhankar in his gang, who was a dock worker and who, as per his bosses’ orders, was to take out diamonds worth four crore rupees from the port. He was supposed to get himself arrested with the diamonds as that was what his bosses had ordered. He acted smart; by some trick of his, before he got arrested, he dispatched the diamonds to his girlfriend and he was found clean when the police arrested him. Nevertheless, the police kept him in the lock-up overnight, grilled him consistently, even tried third degree, but to no avail. Then in the morning he was let off. He went to his bosses with half the diamonds and fed them a story that the other half was usurped by the police. He had the notion that nobody was going to go to the police station to ask the SHO whether he took half the diamonds or not. Man, you yourself told me the other half of the lot, which according to his story was with the police, was recovered from his girlfriend by the gang bosses. The scheme failed, Jhankar’s design to usurp half the diamonds for himself failed, and the same day he was run over by an unidentified vehicle on a road close to the port. The same day his girlfriend was found hanging from a ceiling fan in her flat in Dharavi. Are you reminded of the story?’

‘Come to the point,’ Jocum said roughly. ‘Come to what you want to say.’

‘I’ve already said what I wanted to say. My dear husband, nothing goes straight if luck doesn’t favour.’

‘Arre, what the hell is this new song that you’ve started singing? Right up to yesterday you supported me in everything, why are you speaking against me now?’

‘Up to yesterday, there was no mention of murder.’

‘Arre, there is no other alternative without that.’

‘Then you’d better wait.’

‘Wait for what?’

‘For a safer chance.’

‘Nonsense! It’s not every day that such a chance comes your way. One who can’t grab a chance when it comes his way, well, he’s a fool of the first water.’

‘Think again.’

‘You think again. In view of the mood and temperament you’re showing, it’d be better if you think again.’

‘What do I have to think again?’

‘Shall I stay or leave?’

She got emotional. She put down her glass and pulled Jocum close.

‘I love you,’ she spoke, almost whispering. ‘I love you from the core of my heart. That’s why I married you. I am with you, my darling, come hell or high water; come devil or deep sea.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I swear by St Francis, I’m with you.’

‘Thank you, my love.’

Jocum, too, abandoned his glass and hugged Alisha with all his might.

Of late, the Mumbai underworld had seen many ups and downs. They were most troublesome for the footmen of those gangs whose big bosses suddenly departed to the other world due to an act of God or were made to depart due to the acts of their rivals. For want of a leader, such gangs went astray. When the disbanded men tried to get the patronage of some other gang, they were humiliated and rejected because they were the footmen of a boss who was eliminated – the whole underworld was well aware – by the big boss of Sea-rock Estate.

Many such footmen looking for work tried to approach Khalid, who was a trusted lieutenant of big boss Behramji Contractor, or Bejan Moravala, who was Behramji’s front man in his smuggling operations. But neither of the two was game for them – they didn’t want any guy from the gang of a traitor known in his lifetime as Ballu Kanaujia; they didn’t want a guy from Mehboob Firangi’s gang. Another such disbanded gang was that of Salman Ghazi – said to have voluntarily retired from bhaigiri – but his subjects were not yet seeking shelter elsewhere because nobody actually believed that their big boss was retiring or had already retired. They took it as rumour which was being spread purposely because their boss was in deep trouble with the law of the land. He had a nasty case against him in the courts in Goa, from which