Chain of Custody (19 page)

Gowda parked outside the MLA's house. It was called Bella Manne. The white house in which the man who dressed only in
white lived. Outside, in the driveway, was a fleet of white cars, including a Jaguar. The gates were wide open and a few feet beyond them was an arch from which a huge bell was strung with a bell rope. Gowda gaped. Who on earth did the MLA think he was? The Mughal emperor Jahangir with his bell of justice?

Gowda saw the MLA get into a car as he walked through the gate. He stopped, unsure what to do next. He had come on a whim. The car pulled up alongside him and a window rolled down. ‘What can I do for you, Inspector?' MLA Papanna asked.

‘I had a few queries about the landfill on the north of Rampura lake, the garbage truck accident outside the school and the assault on one Gopal Reddy in Bilishivale,' Gowda said without any of the mandatory preamble.

The man looked at him and said, ‘You needn't have come all this way yourself. You could have sent a constable and my PA would have given him whatever information was required.'

Gowda shrugged. ‘I wanted to meet you, sir.'

The man flashed his plank teeth. ‘In which case, do make an appointment with my PA, Gowda sir, and you can ask me whatever you want. My life is an open book. Like my doorway. All you need to do is ring the bell and I will make myself available.'

When the MLA drove away, Gowda was inclined to do what Head Constable Gajendra did as a preamble to all interrogation, to suggest total contempt: pretend to spit on the floor with an aa-thoo and snarl, ‘Lowde ka baal!'

Instead, he decided to go home.

The house was empty when Gowda arrived. The gate lights were on and the porch light too. He must have missed Roshan by a few minutes. Usually, Gowda came home to a
dark house. That was what he hated most about living alone. He hadn't thought Roshan was the caring kind. But surprise, surprise …

Gowda changed into track pants, pulled on his running shoes and set off on a brisk walk. If he walked for an hour, he would pour himself a drink. That would be his reward.

Fifteen minutes later, he paused in his tracks. Would Urmila be free to see him this evening? He had cancelled their dinner plan. Did he dare turn up at her doorstep, expecting to be fed, indulged and loved? Gowda sighed. He didn't blame her for getting Mr Right. At least he was constant.

I went back to the godown in Sampigehalli. I needed to see her again.

‘Ah, the chhote nawab is back!' Daulat Ali said, his mouth twisting into a smirk.

I tried to hide the sheepishness I felt. But Daulat Ali wasn't going to let it be.

‘Can't keep it in your pants, huh?' he said, reaching to cup my balls with a laugh.

‘Take your hands off me,' I said, moving back. ‘And don't ever do that again!'

He flinched. I had learnt my lesson from the thekedar well. I knew how to melt ice with my smile. I also knew how to freeze the marrow with a certain look and tone of voice.

‘Who is it? Moina again?' he asked, turning away.

‘What about the new girl?' I walked towards the cubicle she had been in.

He put his hand on my arm. ‘No, not her. The thekedar has said he will decide when she is to enter the business.' I was not
quick enough to hide my dismay. Daulat Ali seized on it and added, ‘I think he's keeping her for some big fish.'

‘Ah, all right.' I shrugged. ‘A cunt is a cunt …' I feigned a nonchalance that I didn't feel. I didn't want Daulat Ali reporting to the thekedar what he had seen on my face. In this world you cannot trust anyone. Not even your shadow. For even that changes with the light.

‘Tell Moina to clean up,' I said, walking back to the main door. ‘I'll be back in half an hour.'

When I returned I had a few things in a plastic bag. The metal shutters were down. What the hell was going on, I wondered, banging on them.

Daulat Ali appeared it. He looked grim.

‘What's up?' I asked.

‘That new randi ki ladli …' he murmured. ‘She tried to run away.'

‘How do you know she's a whore's daughter?' I asked with an artlessness that I knew would set his teeth on edge.

‘Oii chhote nawab.' He glowered at me. ‘Don't be so fucking literal! You are so good at teaching people lessons, aren't you? Go in there and teach her a lesson. If I do, she won't have any teeth left.'

I walked into the cubicle. She was crouched on the floor, her cheeks wet with tear stains. She stared at me defiantly.

‘Get up,' I said in Kannada. Moina had said she was from Bangalore.

‘Anna,' she said. ‘Help me, please.'

‘I will.' I sat by her side. ‘But you have to do as I say.'

She nodded.

‘Do you trust me, Nandita?'

I saw her eyes widen in surprise. She hadn't expected me to remember her name. ‘I don't know,' she said. I smiled then. I would have to teach her to trust me.

‘Scream,' I said. ‘Scream as if you are in pain.'

She stared at me. ‘Why?'

I lit a cigarette with my lighter. I saw the fear in her eyes. I brought it towards her. She whimpered.

‘Scream,' I said under my breath.

But she wouldn't. So I stubbed the flaming end of the cigarette on the inner side of my upper arm. The smell of burnt skin. The charred flesh.

She screamed then. Again and again. Three long screams followed by one that stopped suddenly.

Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Anna, what did you do? Why?'

‘Because I cannot hurt you. And because I want you to trust me,' I said, feeling the burn sting. I reached across and caressed her cheek. ‘Nandita, my name is Krishna. I will always be here for you.'

‘I'm scared, anna,' she said.

‘I know.' I took her hand in mine. ‘When you're scared, recite the multiplication tables … It will make you feel less scared.'

I got up and left the bag behind. I had meant to ask Moina to give it to her. It had a bar of chocolate, a magazine and a hair band. I had no idea what girls liked. But something told me she would like these.

‘I'll be back,' I said.

She looked at me wordlessly.

‘Don't worry,' I said. ‘I'll make sure no one does anything to hurt you.'

She smiled then. My girl.

Moina frowned. She smelled chocolate when she entered the cubicle. She saw Nandita shove a book behind her. ‘What is that?' she pointed.

Nandita shook her head. Then she held out the magazine and the last bit of chocolate.

‘Where did you get that?' Moina gestured, popping the chocolate into her mouth. It slid like silk down her throat.

Nandita flushed. ‘Anna!' she said, gesturing to suggest someone taller than her.

‘Krishna?' Moina asked. So that was what had happened. Daulat Ali had asked her to get ready for Krishna. She thought she had heard his voice. And he had come to see this brat instead of her.

Nandita nodded.

‘Did he fuck you?' Moina asked.

Nandita looked at her uncomprehendingly.

Moina exhaled and smiled. ‘I suppose not. He is mine. Do you hear me? Don't try and take him away.'

Suddenly the curtain was pulled rudely aside. Daulat Ali stood there looking at them.

‘Where did that chocolate come from?'

Nandita shrunk into the corner.

‘K—' she began when Moina butted in.

‘One of my customers left it behind with the book. I gave the book to her and we shared the chocolate.'

Daulat Ali looked at her for a long moment. ‘Get back to your cubicle. There is someone coming in.' Daulat Ali turned to look at Nandita. Something about the girl bothered him. He couldn't put his finger on it but it would come to him sooner than later. Nothing escaped Daulat Ali for too long. Runaway girls, non-paying clients, debts or wandering thoughts.

Sid glanced at his phone. Where was she? She was late by twenty minutes. They needed to get to a service apartment in Indiranagar. In the rush-hour traffic, there was no way they would get there in time.

Bitch, fucking cunt, he thought as he messaged her: Rex, where are you? He would have to park his bike somewhere on Church Street and take her on the metro.

He saw the double-tick appear. Received. He saw the double-tick turn blue. Read. What the fuck! Why wasn't she responding?

He called her number. The phone rang but she didn't pick up. The money in his wallet burned. It was the advance he had received. He was to pick up the balance once he dropped her off.

He slammed the petrol tank of the bike with his fist. Money was one thing, but the person he had talked to was not going to like it if he didn't deliver as promised. Displeasure was shown in many forms, the cucumber seller had warned him. ‘Don't get into it if you can't keep your word. At this point, saying no won't cost you anything. But once you take up a job, if you don't finish it, you'll be screwed. Royally. Left and right. Up and down. In and out. You won't know if you're breathing through your nostrils or your arsehole.'

Sid had laughed at the man's rhetoric. Only now he thought he was going to cry. What had he got himself into? What was he going to do? If she didn't turn up, his arse was fried.

Where the fuck was she? And why wasn't she taking his call?

Rex … Come on, baby … he whispered, calling her again. And again.

They were sitting in the living room watching a DVD. It was one of their favourite things to do. He peeled an orange and gave it to her segment by segment. When his phone vibrated on the coffee table, he looked at it, frowning.

He put the orange down and rose. Then he picked up his phone and walked to the next room. She gazed up at him.

‘Why do you leave the room each time you have to use the phone?' she asked. ‘What is it that you don't want me to hear?'

‘Wife, I don't want to ask you to lower the volume of the TV.' He smiled and whispered, ‘Back in two minutes.'

She paused the film. He walked out into the verandah.

‘Pujary, where is the girl?' the MLA barked into his ear.

‘Isn't she there?' he asked softly.