Mumbaistan (24 page)

'Where are you going?' he asked Raghu, his voice laced with tension.

'I want to meet Kundalik bhai,' replied Raghu coolly.

'Kundalik bhai is busy right now. He will not meet anyone.'

'He will meet me. Tell him I know who the madman is.'

The man immediately dropped his aggressive manner. 'You wait here. I will go and tell him about you.'

In a few minutes, the man was back. He did a thorough body search on Raghu, all over his limbs, chest and back. Satisfied at not finding anything, he asked Raghu to follow him to a large inner chamber on the second floor, which resembled the inside of a temple. Statues of gods and goddesses were placed in various niches and walls. Small diyas flickered in front of these statues. The parts of the walls that did not have niches were covered with laminated photographs of more deities. At the far end of the room was a large table, across which sat a man dressed in a red silk kurta and matching silk lungi. The man's face vaguely resembled yesteryear's Bollywood comedian Mehmood. Raghu knew that this was Kundalik Kadam but was surprised at the fact that he didn't wear the air of aggression that others in his headquarters seemed to possess.

'So, who is this madman? asked Kundalik, coming straight to the point.

Raghu walked closer to the slumlord and sat down on a chair from across him. 'He is the man who knows the details of my father's death,' he said in the cool, collected manner that he always used while dealing with authority figures.

Kundalik studied Raghu's face. 'I take it that you are looking for him too?'

'Yes, I am,' said Raghu, 'But, I want you to—'

Kundalik's phone rang. He picked up the call. 'What? Where? Accha, send men over there quickly. I am on my way.' Kundalik frowned. He snapped the phone shut.

'Your madman has just been spotted walking across the pipeline that goes over Mahim Creek to Mahim. He is really mad.' He laughed and Raghu shivered. 'Haan. You were saying something when the call came. Please finish.'

Raghu replied in a measured tone. 'I want you to call off your men. I will go after him. Don't worry, he will be taken care of. Promise.'

Kundalik looked at him, incredulous. 'Who the hell
are
you?' he asked.

'That is not important,' Raghu replied.

Kundalik reached for a bell under his table, but Raghu was quicker. He whipped out the Glock and placed its nozzle between Kundalik's eyebrows before he could ring the bell. Throughout the conversation, Raghu had anticipated this moment and was prepared for it. He had hidden the Glock securely in his underwear, tucked under his testicles, a place where no self-respecting goon would lay his hands, unless forced to. While seated opposite Kundalik, he had furtively unzipped his pants and extricated the Glock from its uncomfortable position—just in time to put it to good use.

Raghu was terse as ever, 'I am sorry for your loss, but the situation is far too complicated for you to understand.'

'Kutreya, it is you who don't understand. You and your madarchod madman are both going to die,' spat out the defiant Kundalik

Raghu realized that any further discussion was useless. 'Get up,' he growled, with enough menace in his voice to convince Kundalik that he meant business. Kundalik got up from his seat. 'This is my garh. Do you think you can get away from here?' he hissed.

Raghu didn't say anything, but motioned him towards a door at the back of the office. Kundalik looked at Raghu closely. He realized that Raghu knew what he was doing. The back door opened into a small private staircase that led to a shanty behind the slumlord's headquarters. This was Kundalik's private exit route that he had had specially constructed to help him make a quick getaway, should the need ever arise. Raghu continued in his businesslike manner, 'Don't try to call out to your people. I will shoot you down right here and escape through the backdoor. It is better that you come with me quietly.'

Without further protest, Kundalik opened the backdoor and walked down the staircase, with Raghu behind him. All along, Raghu held the Glock to the back of Kundalik's head. Before they emerged two shanties away from Kundalik Bhavan, Raghu covered his victim's head with a large handkerchief. Although his vision was impaired, Kundalik could make out a white SUV parked next to the shanty. Raghu bundled him into the passenger's seat, hopped into the vehicle and started the engine. Kundalik couldn't help but marvel at Raghu's level of information and planning.

'How do you know so much about me?' he asked.

Raghu replied, 'You have many enemies in the police. And I have many friends'

◉

Samir and Gardullah were each gulping down a cold drink outside Shetty Cold Drink Shoppe, at the corner opposite Navjivan Society, Mahim. Both of them were out of breath and needed to boost their flagging energy levels. They had walked across the pipeline over the creek without incident, except for some cheers from passengers in a local train that had rumbled past them on the adjoining train tracks. They had reached the Mahim side of the creek and hopped off the pipeline near the police quarters. Moving quickly along the path that leads under the flyover towards the Mahim railway station, they had made good time, reaching the mouth of Tulsi Pipe Road. Samir had wanted to go on towards Mahim station but Gardullah had insisted that they go towards St Michael's Church instead, as he felt this would confuse any person who might be following them. Gardullah had not disregarded the risk of being spotted on the pipeline. Samir decided to go with Gardullah's suggestion, as he was wary of trusting his own judgment.

The lemony cold drink revived Samir's senses somewhat. But the late afternoon sun was blazing and Samir could feel his skin burn. He sat down on a wooden bench under the shady awning that stretched over the shopfront while Gardullah chose to brave the heat out on the pavement. Samir watched Gardullah's eyes darting up and down the street and marvelled at his rodent-like alertness. During their journey along the pipeline, Gardullah had told him that he had been a solider in the army many years back, which was why he could brave the pipeline crossing while most others would baulk at the prospect. Samir didn't know whether to believe him or not, but as he watched Gardullah standing in the sun unfazed, he realized that it was perhaps army training that had saved Gardullah and kept him going despite the severe drug abuse he had subjected his body to.

Without warning, A jeep full of tough-looking men turned into the lane, interrupting Samir's thoughts. He sprang to his feet, ready to flee the scene. Gardullah, instead of running, yelled out to him to grab a few of the sealed glass cold drink bottles from a crate lying outside the shop. With amazing precision, Gardullah started flinging the bottles at the advancing jeep. The velocity of the gas-filled glass bottle colliding with the jeep in motion was enough to create the effect of a small bomb, as the bottles exploded against the jeep's exterior with ferocious intensity. One bottle exploded against the windshield, smashing it into a thousand starry pieces. The driver lost control, causing the jeep to swerve and ram into an electric pole.

Without wasting time, Gardullah grabbed Samir's hand, shouted 'run' and swiftly loped towards St Michael's Church. Samir ran behind him. His energy seemed to have returned with full force, his brain seemed to be pushing his legs to run faster with every passing second. He overtook Gardullah after a couple of hundred yards. Gardullah waved him on. A loud shout from behind made Samir turn his head to see two of the goons from the jeep giving chase. One of them held a gun, aiming it at Samir and Gardullah even as he ran behind them. But luckily, the crowded road was too full of passers-by for him to be able to get a clear shot. Samir increased his pace and started dodging between the passing vehicles. By this time, they had almost reached the church. Samir looked to his right and saw an empty double-decker bus emerging out of the Mahim bus depot. He made a dash for it and grabbed the bar to heave himself inside the bus. Gardullah, was still a few paces behind. 'Jaldi!' Samir shouted, reaching out to grab Gardullah, when the man running behind him squeezed his gun's trigger. A bullet whizzed past Gardullah and Samir and embedded itself in the advertising board at the back of the bus. Gardullah whipped out his revolver. 'No! Get in the bus!' shouted Samir. He grabbed Gardullah's hand and was about to pull him into the bus when another shot rang out.

Gardullah's chest exploded in a red ball of blood. The bullet had passed through his back to the front of his ribcage. Gardullah's extended fingers started slipping out from Samir's grasp. Samir gulped large doses of air to keep from throwing up.

The bus was now gathering speed. As Gardullah fell, he chucked his revolver at Samir. 'Catch...' he said, before collapsing in a heap. The revolver bounced into Samir's outstretched hand and somehow stuck there.

Gardullah's body soon became a speck. But the men chasing them weren't done yet. Samir saw the shocked expression on the conductor's face. 'Please, don't stop the bus,' begged Samir.

The conductor raised his hands and said, 'Please, don't shoot.'

Samir was confused but then realized that he was holding a revolver. .

The conductor yelled out to the driver, 'Don't stop the bus, this man has a gun.' The driver accelerated, fearing for his colleague's life. The bus sped on, down L.J. Road towards Dadar, without stopping at any bus stops . Samir realized that he couldn't get too far on the traffic-laden main road. He shouted to the conductor, 'Take a right turn ahead.'

The conductor was hesitant. 'This is not our route,' he said, shivering. Samir now raised the gun at him. The bus conductor yelled to the driver, 'Right!'

The driver swung right into a by-lane. After that, Samir kept giving random, left-and-right instructions to the bus driver, who did as told without protest.

In a by-lane somewhere between Mahim and Dadar, Samir jumped off the bus, waving at the driver to carry on.

He then ran into another alley.

◉

Raghu Nadar was standing near the pipeline opposite the police quarters. He had arrived there with Kundalik Kadam, hoping to intercept Samir. As he arrived, he got another call from Inspector Pandian. This time, Pandian told him about another murder having taken place near Mahim Church. The police had information that a man in hospital clothes was involved in this murder, too. They were in no mood to take chances because of the impending arrival of the ruling party leader. They had labelled this man a terrorist on the loose and were on the lookout for him. Raghu suddenly realized that the back door of the SUV was open. He cursed loudly and sprang out, only to see Kundalik jumping headlong into the black waters of the creek behind. Raghu had his gun ready as he waited for Kundalik's head to pop out of the filth, but the water's surface remained placid. Sewage and assorted pieces of garbage kept swirling past, but nothing that remotely resembled a human being. Raghu lowered his gun, realizing that the toxins in the water would kill Kundalik as surely as a bullet would, except that his death would be a slightly prolonged affair.

He got back into the SUV and sat thinking. After a while, he dialled a number. 'This is Raghu Nadar. I have a request.'

A man whose voice indicated supreme authority replied, 'Sure, Raghu. I owe you a favour.'

'The man in the hospital clothes is not a terrorist.'

The man went silent for a few seconds. 'Do you know him personally?' he asked.

'Yes, sort of,' said Raghu.

'Can you vouch for the fact that there will be no more murders associated with him?'

'Well...I can't. But, do you have conclusive proof that he is the man who committed these so-called murders?' asked Raghu.

'I don't have the luxury of taking chances'

Raghu mulled over this. 'Let's leave aside the murders. Can you ensure this man will not commit any kind of offence going forward?' said the man on the phone.

Raghu hesitated. 'Well...I...'

'You can't, right? Well, then, I can't help you.'

'At least, don't label him a terrorist...because he's not one.'

'Maybe he is, maybe he is not, but that's the only way to stop him for sure.'

'Please don't kill him, saab,' Raghu pleaded.

'We'll try not to.' The line was cut.

Raghu was left hoping that the man meant what he had said.

On a park bench in the Sant Tukaram Baludyan, a small garden tucked away in the heart of the residential expanse, close to the sprawling Shivaji Park in Dadar, Samir lay still, pretending to be asleep. Every evening, screaming kids and doting mothers crowded this garden. At present, though, in the late afternoon, there was no one around except for Samir and an old man who was catching a snooze in the shade of a tree.

Samir wanted to attract the least amount of attention towards himself while he thought out a strategy for his onward journey. Just a few minutes earlier, he had noticed some blood spattered on his hospital shirt. The realization that these were Gardullah's bloodstains sent him reeling. He entered the garden to be away from the crowded streets, the blood and the gore. Lying on the bench, he wondered if it would have been better for him to have remained in a coma. But then, he remembered what he had set out for. Today was Bahaar's birthday. There was no time to waste. He had to be decisive and quick with what he did next.

As he sat up on the bench, his eyes noticed a small single-storey house across the lane adjoining the garden. A rotund sari-clad woman emerged from the main door with two large buckets full of wet clothes. She proceeded to hang the clothes on the clothesline. Samir could clearly see that her house door had been left ajar. The house wore a deserted look except for the woman outside.

Samir rose, his mind made up. He exited the garden and crossed the road. He cast quick glances around, seeing no one, he entered the house. He found himself inside a sparsely decorated living room. He then walked into a passage beyond the living room and noticed an open door on one side. It was a storeroom. He went further down the passage and came to another door. He gently pushed it open and saw a bedroom. There was a large wardrobe near the double bed. He yanked open one of the doors; it was stuffed with women's clothing. He opened the other door and saw neatly folded men's shirts and pants on the shelves. He grabbed a shirt and a pant.