Mousebite

by Ganesh Chaudhari

  “I tell you, it is because of my boss’s order that I am not having you beaten to pulp. Otherwise, it would have been different. I would have enjoyed cracking you in front of your colleague Bhavna & then it would have been my injured dick & that bitch’s holes. One after another.” He blurts dreamily. I have heard all that I could.

  I have a very basic approach when it comes to man to man combat. To get it in motion, I plant a flat footed kick in Sadanand Mane’s crotch. That should keep his heat down for a while. He sinks to his knees with a contorted face. Now back to my combat approach. It is divided into three parts.

  First: when the number of opponents is large, evade. I too get down to my knees so that the goons aiming for my body miss their mark. Then I turn around & run towards the car that is blocking the rear. I climb on it quickly. But it is still not enough for me to pull my gun. So I transition to the next combat rule.

  Second: Balance. Get mine & help the opponents lose it. As I climb down from the car on the other side, I stop abruptly in a seating position. Just as the first man arrives on the boot of the car, I rise to pull his leg to the side. He falls awkwardly and the falling sounds like he has hurt his head. The next one is following close enough & trips on his friend’s head that is slipping off the car. He lands hard on his back. As the first goon struggles on the ground to gain his balance, I kick him in the gut. The one that fell on the boot has his eyes poked by my thumbs. They both roll into each other onto the ground. The third one is warned & stops on the car’s roof. He reaches in his shirt & draws a knife. I step back slightly to measure the knife wielder as he carefully gets down from the car. Next rule.

  Third: Use everything. As an Indian cop, I am discouraged by law from using the gun. That I cannot reach it quickly enough is a mere detail now. So in situations like this we are asked to use our heads. Because the assailant might be in a fit of rage & may see sense soon. So we the cops are asked to engage him till then without resorting to guns. Usually, I resign to my reflexes rather than such professional recommendations but now that is what I am going to do. Use my head. As the third goon jumps off the car with a swinging arm to slash at my face, I don’t back off. Instead, I drive my head into his chest. Because I was discussing things right away with Sadanand (whose name means someone who is always happy, which is definitely not the case now.), I have not found the time to remove my helmet. The slash glances off my shoulder to inflict a cut but my head drives home. The goon is knocked off his feet & so is the air out of his lungs. The stinging cut on my shoulder involuntarily makes me kick the goon again.

  I get sufficient time to reach for my gun now. I know that the goons by the car will take a while to be able to walk, so I go for Sadanand. I expected him to have gone for cover but he is still where I left him. The other man with him has not been able to move him because of the intense pain or because of his immense weight is something that I don’t want to know. He freezes as he sees the gun in my hand. Another seems to have fled or gone for help. The blood on my shoulder & the wails of his friends make him stand motionless as I bend down by Sadanad who is rolling on the ground in agony. His eyes go wider as he sees me & my gun.

  “So far this case was a professional responsibility. You just made it personal.” I threaten him.

  I am thinking about what to do with these men. If I hand them over to a police station, they can easily prove that I attacked first, even if after provocation. If I let them go, they may not be deterred enough from trying this again. Then there is the procedural mire. Arresting & countering is not my purview as of now. I am under the economic offenses wing which has civil jurisdiction after sufficient evidence is gathered. Apprehending criminals after a crime or while committing it is the duty of the crime branch of the police. So my complaint & actions may backfire. If there are toes that will be crushed, it is better that a big foot does it.

  So I line them up. The three from the car walk to me after I order them to. I bag the knife that cut my shoulder in a handkerchief. None of them has anything of harming nature on them. So this was more of a threatening visit. I photograph them with my mobile phone as if documenting evidence after relieving them of their mobiles, IDs & car keys. Then I make a call to Khan. I explain the incident to him without leaving out anything now. He asks me to stay put because he needs to make a call too. I wait watching the men recover from 5 meters with the gun casually in my hand. The knife wielder recovers early & gives me a cold stare without showing any pain. I am sure the helmet’s bruise on him is going to last for days & is bad right now. Incidentally, the visor of my helmet has cracked leaving a wide cut on the bridge of my nose. Others recover slowly but don’thing to hide their pain. This makes me conclude that only the knifer is tough enough for this kind of work. Sadanand in particular is looking scared after having heard me talking to the DYSP. He approaches me slowly.

  “Chook zali Jagtap saheb. Let us go now. ” He admits his mistake & calls me a saheb.

  “Jagtap saheb?” I mock him. I am sure his tone & actions would have been different if I had been lying on the ground.

  “These men attacked because they thought you attacked me. They did know who you are. Chutiya kuthche!” He shouts at the others & accuses them of being from a place that is far away from the light of common sense.

  “Apologize to Jagtap saheb.” He orders them. They apologize promptly, including the knife wielder, but his eyes indicate otherwise. Sadanand goes around slapping them for good measure. He is accusing them to be complete asses when my phone rings. It is Khan.

  “Is the cut bad?” He asks.

  “It is ok Sir.” I reply.

  “Here is what you are going to do.” He starts explaining.

  Next hour or so is fast moving. Khan does not explain the exact basis of this arrangement but a Police van from the Fort station comes & picks up all the five visitors. I know the cops who have come to do the pickup & they are quick. Two of them take away the vehicles of the visitors. I don’t sign any declaration or statements & they don’t ask me to. As I start walking back to my Bullet, my nose hurts. I remember the reference to Bhavna. In spite of it being after 9, I call her up.

  “Hello Pandurang.” She picks up the call after three long rings.

  “Hello Bhavna. How are you?” I ask.

  “Is this a status check?” She asks in a mocking tone. This is good. It means she is not stressed.

  “Sort of. Listen, can I ask you something?” I move towards the reason for my call.

  “Sure.” The answer comes after what I perceive as a small but tentative pause.

  “It may sound weird, but do you carry a gun?” There is a long pause this time.

  “Are you alright Pandurang? Is something wrong?” She is fast to conclude that.

  “ I was visited by our friend from the hotel. He has been properly received as of now, but I want you to be careful. And yes, I am alright.” I don’t see the point of keeping this from her. She exhales in relief but does not speak for a long time.

  “I can take care of myself Pandurang. Thanks.” She says in a surprisingly harsh tone.

  “I know that. But if you need a weapon or assistance...”

  “I said thanks.” She hangs up. I am not sure what happened but I too am pissed. I don’t bother calling her back as her tone was dismissive. By now, there are lots of people who have come out after listening to the police vehicles & some of them have seen people being taken away. I see many of them giving me a visual lookdown as I drive to the parking of my apartment. The look on majority of the faces puzzles me. They are living in a police colony with many of them being ex-cops. So why are they surprised when there is a crime near their homes?

  23

  Lead

  Kumar was tentative. This was rare for him. Right from his time as a topper at the officers’ training academy, he was used to being applauded. He had been to other departments prior to joining NIA. In all those assigments, he had successfully carved a position for himself. It was due to his fierce competi
tive attitude & acumen. His previous bosses had been in awe of him. But today, his boss for the assignment had been used to override his decision about Jagtap. Kumar knew that Hormaz understood the reasons behind his actions, but having to undo his actions had left a bad taste in the mouth. An ex-gangster had twisted his hand through his boss. He had stayed ahead of others by one more method. He always knew their weaknesses. So he had to find the weakness of Anees Vilayati. It was that simple. He had to show the goon his place. After his 6th cigarette on the go, he remembered the make of the phone on Anees’s table when he last met him at the Wheely. He lost no time in making the call.

  “Sir?” The voice asked.

  “Get me a trace on all the Samsung Note 2 phones that have ever come at the Wheely. I want everything on those devices ASAP.” He ordered.

  ***

  Hormaz finished a favorite meal of Kheema-Paav. He had skipped a proper lunch. When in Mumbai, he rarely went for lunches. Lunch was the same everywhere, you would have to choose between a North Indian menu that was heavy on wheat and a South Indian variety where rice occupied center. And they were his staple food in any other city. When in Mumbai, he ate local food. This meant all foods ending with Paav(Vada Paav,Bhaji Paav,Misal Paav,Samosa Paav,Masala Paav & Kheema Paav. Well, may be more.), Sandwiches, Fruit salads, Bhel puri & Paani puri. He had sampled most of these items during the day in good measures. The attendant at the smallish Mumbai office was servicing his food inclinations & did a good job of finding him all that he liked. He had relatives & friends in the city but given the nature of his short visits, it was impossible to give all of them time & attention. So he didn’t bother with visiting them. He also didn’t bother about calories & fried items while in Mumbai. Reveling in this culinary quest also kept him focused in a way.

  The day had not gone according to the plan. But it had been constructive none the less. He was sure that by now Anees’s entire information network was working on tracing the elusive family member of Tabrez Memon. He had not checked into a hotel. He was entitled to suites in government rest houses too but he felt at home in the office. Sleep didn’t come easily to him & work was a good company. It was similar to his accommodation in Delhi, but was a bit cramped for space. There was a couch that he would use as a bed. The office was comfortably air conditioned. A refrigerator with water, milk, a pack of butter & bread had been set up. Kumar & the attendant had offered to stay back only to be declined by Hormaz.

  He had been going through all the information again. This time it was with his iPad. The tablet form factor was perfect for him to keep walking & reading. The device was hooked to the office network through WiFi & offered him all the digital services that he required. His office audio-video call app indicated an incoming call. The NIA had developed its own custom app for making & receiving calls on its devices. He accepted the call.

  “Yes?”

  “Good evening Sir. A Mumbai based call incoming, caller claims to be one Anees, should I patch it through?” The operator asked. Hormaz didn’t have a personal phone. All his calls were patched through the call center. They asked whenever it was a new number.

  “Patch it through.”

  “Hello Mr.Hormaz.” Hormaz identified the silky tone immediately.

  “Mr.Anees.” Hormaz wanted him to continue. So he didn’t add anything.

  “I may have some information of interest.” He kept it short.

  “Can we meet now? I can reach you immediately.” Hormaz played it off the bat.

  “No, I will come to you.” Anees replied.

  Hormaz was dressed in a Reebok track suit when he came out on the street. There was a cool breeze coming off the sea. The NIA office had been set up in the Air India building on the Necklace road. It was not official yet but it turned out that Air India was more than willing to occupy a government approved tenant as long as the rent was paid promptly. Also, the building had a history of being a target for bomb attacks. Nothing more apt to remind the NIA of its role. Anees had asked him to come to a nondescript tea vendor by the street corner near the Regal cinemas. It was just besides the entrance to the subway. Hormaz walked briskly to reach it & had already finished his first cup of tea when Anees arrived. Hormaz looked up from his cup to confirm that Anees’s Fortuner was parked very close. He left his people to stroll towards Hormaz. He occupied a stool in front of Hormaz. The stall owner smiled at Anees.

  “Kattan chai, Chetta?” He asked Anees with a half hearted salaam. Hormaz thought he was speaking Malyalam. Anees nodded to confirm. The man brought a cup of black tea for Anees & a refill for Hormaz without asking. He then went out of earshot on purpose. People were still milling about on the road, but nobody bothered paying attention to two men having late night tea.

  “You look a regular here.” Hormaz said.

  “Oh yes. The tea & the location both are good.” Anees sipped long & hard at his cup.

  “I managed to get something for you. There may be someone close enough to Tabrez Memon planning something.” Anees started. Hormaz listened keenly.

  “If my source is right, he usually is; then one man who has a debt to pay to Tabrez is planning to execute an operation called Khyber. The specifics are unknown but this man might have been working on it for more than a year.” Anees paused.

  “This man is in India?” Hormaz prioritized his queries.

  “Yes.” Anees gave a short reply. Which meant it was time to ask the important questions now that the information overview was over.

  “Do you know who he is?” Hormaz asked. Anees didn’t answer immediately. He sipped onto his black tea.

  “Mr.Anees, I intend to keep up my end of the bargain that we agreed upon in the morning. You still have my word.” Hormaz said in an affirmative tone.

  “I know. It is hard to believe that someone whom I had seen as a wronged kid can turn out into a tool for the damned.” Anees exhaled. His eyes looked forlorn as he paused again. Hormaz didn’t bother repeating his question.

  “It may not be accurate but my source has reason to believe that this man is Ishtiyaq Malik.” Anees let it out with visible effort.

  24

  Favour

  Some mornings are guilt laden. There is a nagging thing at the back of your mind when you go to sleep the earlier night. Through the night, you see images flashing that are invariably connected to it & by the time you rise, the issue is even bleaker. My jogging habit helps me regain focus on such mornings. As I run on the deserted streets, things become clearer. Unlike many, I don’t enjoy listening to music while jogging. The noises of the early day are what I find entertaining, even stimulating. As I sweat with the effort, my mind uses the adrenalin rush to help me find an approach for the day ahead. It is particularly the case today as I have been feeling awful.

  I should have shown a little more maturity yesterday. Bhavna sounded disturbed on the phone but what else could have been a natural response? I have been a cop for sometime & am used to situations when people promise to bring me physical harm for doing my duty. I have learnt to tackle the issue physically & otherwise only after experiencing it often. And credit is due to some of my friends & seniors for guiding me. Such encounters actually make me feel alive in a strange way. And surviving them makes me keener to watch out for or avoid the next one. This could be Bhavna’s first brush with a threat. I should have known that. As a woman who has been brought up in Mumbai, she must have seen such standoffs but most likely from a distance. I need to reach out to her. My resolve to be better than yesterday gets galvanized after I see Kumar rushing towards the Air India building. Just to make sure that I return the favor, I jog slower as we pass each other. The confirmation of visual contact is received in the criss-crossed lines on his forehead. I hope that he believes in seeing the faces of good people in the morning or facing a ruined day if he sees the person he hates.

  I fix myself a quick breakfast of hardboiled eggs & bread-butter. As I organize my professional lookout & tasks for the day, I remember that Pulkit’s post mort
em report is due today. That could give me an opportunity to meet Dr.Desai. The US consulate car is still a mystery. I don’t like mysteries in my line of work. The US consulate is way over my pay grade. If I have to enquire about a car from the consulate going to a hotel owned by the home minister’s brother, I will be treated like a house fly. The consulate will first dismiss me & then I will be reported to be quashed. Bottomline, it can’t be done officially. So what can be done? An unofficial, off-the-record favor could be useful. And I believe I am owed one.

  It was sometime last year that I had been part of a raid at a resort in Lonavala. We had seen lot of financial activity on a serial pimp’s cover up bank account. The illegal & legal deposits were close to a crore of rupees over a month with almost 300 deposit & transfer entries. Our initial assessment was that of a prostitution ring. We zeroed on the business end at a large resort in Lonavala. On reaching the local police station with a request for raiding, we were told that the local cops were mulling it already. The resort had been steadily feeling up with noisy teenagers through the morning & the locals suspected a rave party. The bookings at the resort were consistent with our suspect. We raided the resort immediately & found 250 teenagers partying hard. Many of them were in different stages of inebriation under the effects of a variety of narcotics.

  Thankfully, they were dressed when we raided & we were saved the monties. Most of them were college going kids from Mumbai, Pune but some had flown in from as far as Delhi. And surely, there were foreign students too. So we rounded them off & dispatched them to their respective cities to be tested for the consumed substances. The pimp was apprehended to nip his new business venture in the bud. I travelled with a batch of foreign students to Mumbai. One of them kept complaining that he had just arrived & didn’t know of this being a rave party. Unlike others, he looked sober and was almost in tears throughout the journey. At the police station, the procedure of informing the next of kin was initiated. By then it was already late in the evening which meant those kids would have to spend the night in the police station till their family members could arrange for bail on the next day. We had confiscated their mobile phones few hours back. This was DYSP Khan’s operation so there was no other way around it. Otherwise by now the fixing phone calls would have started. The boy was even more scared. His friends didn’t seem to mind anything as they were high on drugs. I talked to the boy out of curiosity. He said that he wanted to make a phone call. I asked where & he said the US consulate. I initially thought it was for consular access but then he told me who he was.