The Murder Suspect

by Rani Ramakrishnan

  In desperation, I turned to the inspector. ‘Inspector, Piyush. He should be your priority.’

  ‘Who wasted precious time looking in the wrong place for the wrong person?’ he asked.

  I forced myself to ignore the taunt. God only knew what else I would have to hear soon. I had steered the search and made Chirag everybody’s focus while Piyush should have been our priority. Now, I had to endure the consequence.

  ‘Look, we had to find Chirag and we have, but Piyush is still missing. All that blood...’ This time a tear escaped my eyes. How would I explain this acute emotional distress to my curious onlookers? I prayed for strength and continued, ‘We must save him.’

  ‘The divers are searching. That is all we can do.’

  ‘What about other places on the island?’

  ‘He is not on the island, we are sure.’

  ‘Please...’

  ‘I will record statements soon,’ he said, and stepped aside to answer his phone.

  I stood there with the others, helpless and distraught. A hand fell on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Chirag. He probably wanted his laddoos. I felt like a bird trapped in a cage. I could kill Piyush for the situation in which he had left us.

  ‘Hey, somebody please order laddoos for Chirag!’ I shouted towards the reception, hoping somebody would do at least that much.

  ‘No no, Nalini,’ he said, thrusting his phone at me. ‘Here, Pakhi wants to speak to you.’

  Great! Would these hounds ever let me be?

  I smiled and took the phone. At the other end, a hysterical Pakhi demanded news of her husband. Well, what was I—a genie to conjure him out of thin air? She was not here dealing with the problem. She was far away crying for results while I was stuck with handling unsavoury characters unwilling to lift a finger to help.

  Chapter 7

  Bharat Desai arrived with his entourage. He parked himself in the presidential suite and dictated instructions to high-ranking officials involved in the search and rescue. This he could have done from his perch in the capital, but he had to make an inconvenience of himself by being here in person.

  Soon, Piyush was big news. Journalists and paparazzi descended on the island. Though the Jade Wing was off limits to all except the police, select resort staff, the minister’s entourage, and us, news snippets flowed freely to the media. A snapshot of Chirag’s room, the bloody trail on the cliff, my decision to downplay Piyush’s disappearance—everything was in the news.

  The media onslaught caused serious discomfort in my camp. They feared that their backgrounds and personal details would also become matters of public interest. Many of them had secrets hidden in their past that could not be aired on national television without creating a scandal. For them, I stood strong.

  Amidst all this tension, the only time I was alone was the fifteen minutes before the arrival of ‘The Capitalists’, as Bharat Desai and his team were nicknamed. During that short interval, I showered, changed, bolted the connecting door from Piyush’s side, and checked his room one last time to make sure I had overlooked nothing. I also managed a cursory breakfast.

  Nothing conclusive happened that day.

  At sundown, the divers returned empty-handed after a full day on the job. Piyush could be anywhere out at sea, but he would be dead. That was almost a surety. A boat took us back to the mainland, our holiday cut short, our hopes for the year ahead in shambles, and our mood down in the dumps.

  My heart lurched as I watched idyllic Cumbojee Island disappear. ‘It’s not even on the map,’ I had protested when Piyush first told me about the far-flung paradise.

  ‘Is there any proof that I am part of your life outside IndeGen? Yet I am. Like us, this beauty is also out there, waiting to be discovered.’

  I had snorted at him in response. He was an eternal romantic. He called me a ‘sourpuss’ for my scepticism.

  My eyes filled with tears for what could not be.

  The island had belonged to the famous Arakkal clan: the powerful rulers of northern Kerala, a vibrant southern Indian state. They had a unique legacy. Their matriarchal system made many firstborn women in their family the rulers of their kingdom.

  ‘I am taking you to an island once ruled by influential women monarchs, the Arakkal Bivis,’ Piyush had declared. ‘A fitting location for the empress of IndeGen.’

  Decades later, Shivaji, a ruler from the northern Indian Maratha lineage, signed a pact with the Arakkal clan and the isle became part of his vassal Kanhoji Angre’s turf. The new occupants even renamed the island after this Maratha strongman. How ironic that my life too had followed the islet’s path. Cumbojee became part of the Maratha regime thanks to a royal agreement. In the same way, an official marriage bound Pakhi and Piyush, making me an outsider.

  ◆◆◆

  I arrived home late at night, free at last to grab that drink and cigarette, but I was too exhausted from being on my feet for twenty-four hours. Once again I set aside these simple pleasures for a more pressing need—sleep. As I hit the bed, my last thoughts were of Piyush bleeding and banging on my door while I slept obliviously.

  I woke early the next day—Monday, a holiday this week to compensate for New Year’s Day. But with nothing better to do, I dressed and set off to work. Seeing others turn up just as I had was also unsurprising. By 10:30 a.m., most workstations on my floor were occupied.

  ◆◆◆

  Piyush had owned Mondays. On this day each week, he connected with all IndeGeners through a webcast in which he discussed plans for the week ahead, achievements of the previous one, greeted those with birthdays, etc. I had talked him into adopting this ritual nine years ago when our employee strength crossed one hundred. His short but lively talks served as motivation for IndeGeners at all levels.

  At the designated hour, since Piyush wasn’t around to telecast his usual pep talk, I played a recording of his last public address and sat down to watch him speak.

  On that occasion, everyone in the company had received an invitation to the event. Space at the venue—the humongous food court that covered the entire eleventh floor—was inadequate. More than a thousand men and women jostled for foot room and a view of the dais with anticipation, tension, and wariness in their eyes. Sitting, standing, and peeping from outside through the large glass windowpanes—faces loomed everywhere.

  The past year had been a roller coaster with too many heart-stopping surprises. His impromptu call for a meeting had stirred the employees’ worries anew. Their natural instincts warned them to brace for more shocks.

  I saw myself croon a greeting into the mike and wait for silence. The camera caught me surveying the room and then glancing at Piyush standing beside me with Pandurang and Senthil. The laugh lines at the edge of his eyes teased me, saying, ‘What are you waiting for? They are already paying attention.’ But he kept the rest of his expression deadpan with just the hint of a smile. I saw myself ignore his naughty eyes and hoped that others watching the video couldn’t translate their language as well as I could.

  ‘I am sure you are all wondering why we have assembled here, right?’ my voice said. In response, I received a few sincere nods.

  ‘As you might have guessed, we have big news to share, and our chief executive officer himself wishes to do the honours,’ I continued. The response this time was a collective sharp intake of breath followed by murmurs.

  ‘IndeGeners, let us invite our beloved CEO, Piyush Gokhle, to the podium with a huge round of applause.’ With that, I stepped away so he could take centre stage. The camera focussed on him as he nodded his thanks.

  He was as dashing as ever. At close to forty, he was as smart and handsome as he was the day he had interviewed me, ten years ago. A decade had done nothing to kill his potent sensuality and good looks. I was sure that no one in the room that day could compete with him in the looks department.

  Thunderous applause and quite a few wistful sighs accompanied his opening remarks. They were already hanging on to his every word. They adored him
, and his personality was only half the reason for it. Many were staring at him as though he was a superstar, dreaming some romantic notion or the other, no doubt.

  After the clapping ceased, he continued. ‘Today is a very important day for our company, and I wished to speak to you about it personally.’

  A sudden hush descended. The pessimists contemplated the darkest announcements possible—were they about to hear about future layoffs, pay cuts, or a takeover? The optimists crossed their fingers—without knowing what they hoped for.

  ‘It has been a decade since I founded IndeGen Technologies, right here in this very building. In those days, we did not have an eleven-storey structure, just a two-bedroom house. Five years ago, we built this new tower around that house, on the same land. I am sure you have all visited the old office at least once after you started working here. At IndeGen, we believe in three things: never forget your roots, cherish your people, and love your work. That is why, even today, I work from the same room I used to work in when I launched the company on the first day of January, ten years ago.’ He paused. The audience listened, rapt. They loved him so, I thought.

  ‘Today I had an important meeting with the board and we made a few monumental decisions. As cherished members of our family, you have every right to know the details before the media reports them, so I asked Nalini Bose, our head of human resources, to arrange this meeting. That is also why I asked Pandurang Tikre, our chief operating officer, and Senthil Rama Iyer, our chief financial officer, to join me.’

  Another pause.

  You could have heard a pin drop. The air had become heavy with anticipation. Thanks to the large crowd, the central air-conditioning had stopped being effective half an hour before. Even the sweat and stifling heat were momentarily forgotten.

  ‘I came here planning to make one announcement, but on the way here I received a phone call, and now I have two,’ he continued.

  What? I had almost said it aloud. I knew of only one announcement. The video showed me turning to Pandurang and Senthil, and they looked just as stunned as I did. Piyush and his ways! I thought, shaking my head ruefully. He loved to give surprises.

  ‘Nalini, please can you step forward so everyone can see you,’ he said. I saw myself join him in the spotlight, biting my lower lip nervously.

  ‘Fellow IndeGeners, you have all probably met Nalini Bose at least once since you joined our family,’ he said, drawing everyone’s attention to me.

  A thousand pairs of eyes turned in my direction, and, at that instant, I had been more than grateful for the hour and a half I had spent at the parlour that day. At least I looked presentable.

  ‘She has been with us since our early days. She is our seventh employee and our very first HR executive. Anyone meeting her is bound to notice how beautiful she is. I always tell her she should have been in the movies. She would have made a ton of money by now.’ Many men and a few women in the audience nodded in agreement at the mention of movies.

  ‘Well, let me tell you from personal experience—she is not all looks. Hiring her was one of the best decisions I have taken for IndeGen. She designed all the HR policies we have today. She is one of our original IndeGeners, and today I am delighted to report that all her hard work has paid off.

  ‘It is my proud privilege to announce, my dear fellow IndeGeners, that our very own HR Head, Nalini Bose, is the winner of The Business People magazine’s “Best HR Manager of the Year” award,’ he shouted. ‘Let’s give her our loudest cheer.’ The noise that ensued was... out of this world. Shouting and stomping, the entire room came to life.

  The chants of ‘Nalini, Nalini, Nalini...’ led by Piyush and accompanied by Pandurang, Senthil, the audience, and the marching band music streaming from the speaker system filled my ears, my heart, my soul, and my eyes. I felt Piyush’s strong arms engulf my shoulders as he led the chants.

  Things went on like this for a long time. Two whole minutes at least. Then Piyush let go of me and held up his hands to silence everyone.

  ‘The Business People magazine ranks companies in India every year based on HR practices. They have declared Nalini Bose “The Best HR Manager of the Year” for her innovative and effective HR strategies because of which we believe IndeGen has the best-fit team in every project we handle.’ More applause followed.

  Again, Piyush waved for silence. ‘We will celebrate her success formally in the coming week. I received the good news on my way here, and I couldn’t resist this opportunity to tell you all about it. But I have something else of great importance to share with you today. What you learn in the coming minutes will have a profound impact on your lives. That is the reason for our meeting today.’

  The smiles vanished from every face in the room. His carefully chosen words had alarmed them.

  ‘As I said earlier, today I had a meeting with the board. Pandurang, Senthil, and I had put forth a proposal to the board a few months ago, and today they came back to us with a go-ahead.

  ‘You know we were forced to take several difficult decisions this year. The competition is catching up with us, and we have been pushing our skills to the limit to maintain our competitive edge. We lost a few of our best leaders unexpectedly, and regrouping has been a painful exercise. I know we have the best minds in the business, and that is why we are still considered among the leaders of the pack. Financially too, our troubles have been well reported. But, to date, we have avoided any harsh decision-making by the sheer prudence of Senthil and his resourceful team.’

  Looking solemnly into the eyes staring at him, he continued, ‘We have resisted the urge to bring in any more outside investors to protect our work culture and the interests of our shareholders, which includes all of you. Now we are at a point where our growth depends critically on fresh funds. We have been mulling over our options, and one of Senthil’s proposals appealed to both Pandurang and me. We presented the idea to the board, and today they informed us that they were in agreement with us.’ Another weighty pause!

  ‘Fellow IndeGeners, I hope all of you recall another assembly like this one, right here, a few years ago. I am sure our old-timers will remember it well. It was less crowded in here that day. I think everyone found a chair to sit in with some to spare, right?’

  A few people nodded, and the others stared at them, wondering what was coming. Tension gripped everyone—those assembled inside and those peeping through the windows. The sinking feeling one has seconds before something bad happens engulfed everyone. The air was heavy and the audience’s foreboding, palpable.

  ‘That day you expected me to announce bonuses, but we had a serious funds crunch. At that time, Senthil—yes, this same guy, Senthil Rama Iyer—was handling our monies and running our lives then too,’ Piyush said, smiling. He got a few half-laughs. The audience was too tense to enjoy Piyush’s ribbing.

  ‘Senthil suggested ESOPs: employee stock options. That day, I stood here and spoke to you about ESOPs for the first time. I know you were all unhappy, but you still stuck with me, and, like one family, we rode that storm. Have you all kept those shares, which we so lovingly handed you, safely?’

  ‘Yes,’ came the reply.

  ‘None of you used it as collateral while gambling?’ he jested.

  ‘No,’ they replied, smiling cautiously.

  ‘None of you threw them down the drain when you didn’t get your pay raise?’

  ‘No!’ This time louder.

  ‘Good. Since that time, ESOPs have been part of every employee’s package. So I know we are all not just employees, we also own IndeGen.’ Another smile! No response from the audience this time. They were probably wondering where this talk was going. More ESOPS, the pessimists were thinking. More promises instead of money!

  ‘So the news, my dear fellow IndeGeners, is that IndeGen Technologies is going public in twelve months.’ A gasp ran through the crowd. A second later excited whispering started.

  ‘Already calculating how much you can make?’ Piyush laughed. ‘At least hear the fu
ll news before you get on with the math. By the middle or end of the coming year, our company will make an initial public offering, and IndeGen will be listed on NASDAQ.’

  A stunned silence welcomed that announcement, and then the clapping started, accompanied by the marching bands on the music system. After an eternity, the applause died down, and the celebrations subsided. Piyush waited patiently for everyone to enjoy the moment and then continued.

  ‘Today is a monumental day, and I am humbled to be standing here and sharing this phenomenal news with you—my family—who have stood like strong pillars against each destructive wave that has hit our company. The time has come for us to cash in on our hard work and make our dreams bigger than they are today. The time has come for us to become a public limited company.’ Another roar of appreciation swept through the audience. Piyush smiled and took a bow before continuing.

  ‘By this time next year, IndeGen Technologies will be listed on NASDAQ, and our shares will be traded in the U.S. stock market.’ Another round of applause welcomed this news.

  ‘So today when you go home, plan for those big budget expenses that you have only dreamt about but never dared to hope of fulfilling. They are about to come true, my friends. This time next year, you could all hope for their fruition. Now go home happy. I have just leaked tomorrow’s headlines to you so there is no need to rise early for the newspaper.’ His audience welcomed his mirth now with laughter.

  ‘Thank God it’s Friday. I don’t have to come to work tomorrow so I can get drunk with happiness without worry. Thank you all for turning up despite the short notice. Have a stupendous weekend. Come back on Monday, ready to make the earth a better place,’ he ended.

  The audience had been on its feet from the beginning. Now they were jumping, rejoicing, and shouting. Piyush leapt off the dais and joined them. Shaking hands, hugging and laughing, the party swung into fifth gear. Pandurang, Senthil, and I joined the big, merry, noisy family. Dance numbers replaced the marching bands, and there remained no excuse to stand still.