by Fawaz Jaleel
NOBODY LIKES AN OUTSIDER!
Yohan Tytler Mystery #1
FAWAZ JALEEL
Yohan Tytler Mystery #1
FAWAZ JALEEL
Kalamos Literary Services Llp
Kalamos Literary Services LLP
Email: [email protected]
First Published in 2021
by
Kalamos Literary Services
Copyright © Fawaz Jaleel 2021
ISBN – 978-81-949581-8-5
Nobody Likes an Outsider
Fawaz Jaleel
Cover designed and typeset in Kalamos Literary Services LLP
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission by the publishers.
The views expressed in this book are entirely those of author. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. The printer/publisher and distributors of this book are not in any way responsible for the views expressed by author in this book. All disputes are subject to arbitration, legal actions if any subject to the jurisdiction of courts of New Delhi, India.
Dear reader,
Thank you for picking up this book. Before you read, I must give you a heads up! This is a work of fiction but it draws inspiration from a lot of incidents and contemporary historical events of India. This is not the story of anyone living or dead. The characters are a figment of my imagination. Any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental.
Moving on… With each page you turn, you are being an integral part of my dream and life. I hope you enjoy this thriller. So detective up, and solve this with me. I don’t know how many cups of tea or coffee you are going to have while reading this. But whenever we meet, a cup of freshly brewed coffee or tea is on me.
Also, I look forward to your reviews. Whether you love it or absolutely hate it, write to me at [email protected] or [email protected]. Your views are very important to me.
LOVE
FAWAZ
The Fearless One
A Tribute to Abhayan
We may remember the day we met a friend for the first time. But how many of us can recollect that exact moment we became friends with someone? Well, in Abhayan's case, I do and here is our story.
It was just the first or second month in MCC. An overconfident and overenthusiastic boy walked into the class not knowing the danger ahead of him. I picked the middle bench as always and started chatting with my new classmates. Abhayan had already found comfort in the backbench with Somesh.
It was a usual day and a professor walked in. It was UG first year, hence, most students were below eighteen. The professor started discussing some topic and this 25-year-old classmate of ours started giving cocky replies. Of course, everyone laughed at his replies. We all have that voice in our head that stops us from doing stupid things. Well, my voice was sleeping. The overconfident boy thought it would be fun to take on this 25-year-old tall, well-built, bald stud with a villain beard. I made a couple of quick jibes at the guy. Before I knew it, he was fuming with anger. After the professor left, the guy jumped from his bench all the way to mine and grabbed my collar. Suddenly, from nowhere, the boy who I rarely spoke to, the quiet Abhayan, jumped to the scene. The 25-year-old man pushed me against the bench and was about to punch me. Abhayan took a big leap and fell on me. I didn't feel a single punch because he took them all. Once he was done, the 25-year-old man challenged me to go to the boxing ring in college for a fight. What happened at the boxing ring is something I’ll write along with the second part of the Yohan series. Back to Abhayan, he jumped in and took those punches for a guy he barely knew. How can one do that? It took me a lifetime of friendship to understand that.
I miss you, brother. We all do. From all of us—Karthik, Anthony, Philip, Vivek, Nishant, Das, Binek, Ashwin Kurien, Varghese, Nikki, Aswin R., Nidhin, Vigneshwara, Blessy, Sooraj, Edwin, all his batchmates, his beloved juniors, teachers and friends. This one’s for you, Abu: UP UP MCC.
I couldn’t write all the names here but I will mention the others in the upcoming books.
Chapter 1
Where There is a Kill, There is News
I am an Indian. I don’t want to be defined by my surname or the religion I was born into. I want to live every day of my life as an Indian and serve the people of my country. I am not here to ask for your votes. Instead, I promise to work for the next five years and basis of my work on the ground, you can choose to vote for me or not. I want to prove myself to the people of India before I come to your doorsteps seeking votes.
This byte of Ashraf Zain was engraved in the minds of people as it was repeatedly being played by news channels. His death came as a shock to the entire nation as they rooted for the man’s journey so far—from being a complete outsider to becoming one of India’s most promising young politicians. Even weeks after his death on 16th December 2020, Ashraf Zain still remained in the headlines. His byte found itself in the “breaking news” sagas of television journalism, while “credible” print media outlets churned at least 15–20 articles on a daily basis. There are multiple narratives and conspiracy theories based on the channel you watch and the ideologies and belief systems of their managements and anchors.
The spokesperson of the national opposition party, Bharatiya National Congress (BNC), claimed, “This is yet another attack on the minorities of this country by the ruling party SDP.”
SDP spokespersons official tweet read: Time and again, the opposition led by BNC finds it fashionable to pin the death of a Muslim on the SDP. They have neither proof nor respect for the deceased Ashraf. Keep your politics out of it.
Newspapers, news channels, YouTube videos, podcasts, and candle marches at Jantar Mantar yet again painted the atmosphere of Delhi, Bihar, and other parts of the country. Pollution wasn’t just in the air. The case that was declared an accident by the Bihar police was stirred up by the media, civil society, and political outfits. The motives of the former and latter were obvious but the second one seemed divided in its attempts to choose between narratives they wanted to hear and the truth.
Meanwhile, around 6.7 kilometers from Jantar Mantar, two gentlemen met in their office headquarters, a fourteen-story building cleverly disguised with transparent windowpanes keeping the world guessing about the events inside.
“There’s a lot of noise around this case in terms of voices and words. The news will be official by tomorrow. Yohan, I didn’t expect your first case as a lead officer to be this controversial,” said CBI Director Jagat Verma.
“I am ready, sir. Also, when did the CBI get a case that isn’t controversial,” replied the young CBI Senior Inspector Yohan Tytler with a sly smile.
“Ok, Yohan. I just said it because this case has religion, politics, and a high-profile individual in one of the most politicized states in the country. And, of course, Sukumar will be assisting and accompanying you to Bihar,” reminded Director Verma.
“Sir, I want to particularly thank you for the last one,” Yohan replied quickly.
“I hope this sarcasm and sense of humor persists until this case is solved. Good luck, son,” Varma ended the conversation with a taunt.
Yohan saluted his senior and left the room with a file. A tensed and perplexed Sukumar Azhagu waited for him outside. Sukumar had been part of Yohan’s team in the past and they had developed a close camaraderie over the years. Director Verma observed this and ensured Sukumar was part of Yohan’s first case as the lead officer.<
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“Yohan Sir. Did you know that Begusarai ranks fourth in terms of crime rate in Bihar? Why can’t we take on the corruption case in Tirunelveli instead?” Sukumar asked the question driven with his own personal agenda.
“Firstly, there are three worse districts than where we are going. Thank your stars, Sukumar. After this case, I will personally drop you home.” Yohan tried to play down Sukumar’s anxieties.
“Sir, my hometown is Tiruchirapalli, not Tirunelveli,” retorted Sukumar with contempt for Yohan’s lack of awareness about South Indian geography.
“Sorry, Suku anna. Now can you brief me on the case?”
“Yeah. Ashraf Zain broke out of the BNC and started his own party—‘Naya Bharat Manch.’ A progressive Muslim leader for a change,” Sukumar stated.
“We are officers of the law, anna. Let’s not reinforce stereotypes,” Yohan interrupted.
“But I am not… my best friend is also…” Sukumar had a mild stutter while trying to refute Yohan’s previous claim.
But Sukumar had a point. Yohan also knew there was merit in his claim but chose to keep aside personal judgements and societal stereotypes. Ashraf Zain, who was thirty-one at the time of his death, began his political journey at the age of twenty-six. If one were to account for campus politics, his journey began at the age of eighteen. He did his graduation and Masters in Philosophy from Madras University. There weren’t many pupils from Bihar in his college but Ashraf was exceptionally comfortable in mingling with people from different cultures and regions. His gentle nature, problem-solving ability, and his less activism and more action-oriented approach were welcomed by the college management too. Ashraf wasn’t one of those student leaders who would call for a protest at the drop of a hat. He believed in the power of inclusive discussions and decision-making. After a successful stint in college politics and two peaceful academic years during post graduation, Ashraf joined as a professor in GRCSC college, Begusarai. He was an idealist who believed in the power of education toward empowerment.
“I know you are not racist. Stop being uncomfortable and continue,” Yohan once again tried to calm down an already anxious Sukumar.
“I sure hope so. Moving on to Ashraf... He alleged that BNC always appeased the minorities but didn’t work on raising their socioeconomic indicators. The SDP applauded this but Ashraf hit back at them with allegations of majority appeasement. Of course, this was met with cyberattacks. On 16th December, his car crashed with a speeding tanker truck at NH-31, leading to his death. The Bihar police concluded it was an accident but the media took it up. One side of the media blamed SDP and the other attacked BNC. Amid all this chaos, the vocal Muslim outfit AIPIM’s leader Akbar Syed started requesting CBI’s interference. He has been using the issue to contest in fifteen Muslim-dominated seats in Bihar where he managed to win five in the last election,” Sukumar summarized in as little words as possible
“Wow, a data veriyan... Isn't that the Tamil word you use to describe your fan worship toward Rajini sir? Rajini veriyan?” Over the years, Yohan had devised a method to deal with Sukumar and tried to engage him to his benefit.
“Yes, sir,” Sukumar replied.
“So yeah… you are a data veriyan with an immaculate aptitude for sensational journalism.” Yohan always found a way to take a jibe at Sukumar owing to their proximity.
“I was just summarizing, sir.” All this while, Sukumar didn’t fall for Yohan’s efforts to get him around. Sukumar knew exactly what Yohan was trying to do and refused to give in.
“Yes, by amalgamating the case facts and your daily media tidbits,” Yohan made a taunt yet again and then continued to discuss the case in hand. “So, we can’t rule out political murder. Both sides have a motive. This doesn’t look personal at the outset but we will interrogate his family.”
“As you know, he is an orphan and unmarried. He was raised by some Muslim trust who supported his education. His house had six employees—a driver who also died in the accident, PA, cook, trainer, maid, and a gardener.” Sukumar knew that Yohan didn’t have the time to read the file. Hence, he kept feeding him the relevant information.
While Director Jagat Verma didn’t outrightly blurt the political ramifications of handling such a high-profile and sensitive case, Yohan was aware of the attention this case would garner. Yohan, in his early thirties now, brought up amid the power and glamour of South Delhi, did enjoy every speck of attention he received. His schooling was with the children of the “who’s who” of Delhi’s political, media, and business circuits. His father, a veteran businessman and investor, himself didn’t fancy his son’s career choice but Yohan had an appetite for going against the tide. Despite the unfancied career choice, the father–son relationship was cordial and they were in touch regularly.
He left a WhatsApp voice note for this father: Dad, I won’t be home for dinner. Have to be in Begusarai tomorrow. I will call you after I reach.
Yohan used to be a quizzer in college and still managed to keep up with the day-to-day affairs. His general knowledge skills were impeccable and he was a toughie to beat in intra- and inter-collegiate events. He had an in-depth understanding of Begusarai, thanks to the district's frequent pop-ups in national politics and the media.
In fact, Begusarai had been at the center of political attention since the 1950s. The city had seen and experimented with all available parties—BNC, SDP, RDU, communist parties, etc. Much like the rest of India, the city votes differently for Lok Sabha and assembly elections. In the former, even Begusarai usually sides with the larger national trend but religion-based and caste-based voting is more apparent in the assembly elections. The 2019 Lok Sabha election in Begusarai was a three-way contest and it involved campaigns by actors, activists, and academicians. While Begusarai has more than 85 percent Hindus, the caste dynamics further add to the voting behavior. There are around 19 percent Bhumihars (upper-caste Hindus), 15 percent Muslims, 12 percent Yadavs, 8 percent SCs, 7 percent Kurumis, and the remaining consist of Kayasth Brahmins, Rajputs, Koeris, and others. The city also has a traditional leftist support base even when the party’s presence is diminishing in the rest of India. What Ashraf stood for was to break these caste and religious lines and speak about a “Naya Bharat” that focuses on leading the world’s revolution in technology, education, and health care while not forgetting the principles of humanity. In a sense, he echoed the words of the patriotic poet and illustrious son of Begusarai, Shri Ramdhari Singh Dinkar: Sabse viraat jantantra jagat ka aa pahuncha (the largest democracy in the world has arrived),
singhasan khaali karo ke janata aaati hai (vacate the throne, for the people are coming).
“Suku anna, we need to prepare a plan of investigation before we leave. Why don’t you get started? I will review and make additions. When’s our flight to Bihar?” Yohan knew they had to start at the earliest.
“At 2 p.m. in the afternoon,” Sukumar replied.
“So, we have a long and sleep-deprived night ahead of us. Can you get me all the files including the Bihar police’s inquiry report?” Yohan asked, preparing himself to take notes for the investigation plan.
Sukumar rushed to his desk and gathered the files. Five minutes had passed and Sukumar was taking longer than he should have. Despite strict laws against it, Yohan lit a cigarette inside his office and waited for his colleague. Yet again, a seemingly worried Sukumar rushed toward his senior.
“Sir, there’s a small issue. You may want to turn on the TV,” Sukumar’s anxiety made a comeback.
“An issue already?” Yohan didn’t fancy the media and certainly loathed watching television anchors display a mockery of journalism on big screens. He turned to his laptop, opened YouTube, and put on one of the “leading” English channels. Amid the chaos and cacophony on the screen, he focused on the “breaking news.”
“Shame. Utter Shame,” shouted a bespectacled male journalist with a screeching tone. “The CBI has managed to convict criminals in just 3 percent cases. Is this premier agency go
ing to get us justice for the deceased? I am sorry viewers… Murdered; I repeat, MURDERED Ashraf Zain.” The reporter unleashed a barrage of attacks against the CBI with the dramatic presentation of a wannabe theatre actor.
“Is this data even true?” Yohan turned to the data veriyan, Sukumar.
“It depends upon how you analyze it.” Sukumar’s response had a new sense of enthusiasm as if he got an opportunity to unlock his pandora's box of numbers.
“Anna, quit diplomacy and give me the real numbers.” Clearly, Sukumar was able to do what Yohan couldn’t—get on to his nerves.
“Sir, so we claim that the CBI has solved 65–70 percent of cases. I think our highest rate as per our calculation was 69 point something in 2017 or 2018...”
“What the… How is this news bimbo claiming 3 percent then?” Yohan was furious.
“Yeah, I was getting to that. There is a school of thought that claims that this 65 to 70 percent is if we include all cases—major and minor. These folks claim that if you look at just the major crimes, it is a mere 3.96 percent. The ones that get the most media attention.” Sukumar smiled not at the low and embarrassing numbers but the opportunity he got to display the data set in his mind.
“Bloody data freaking genius,” mumbled Yohan. He knew Sukumar was batting to his strength but hesitated from complimenting openly as he was fuming at the media circus. Little did Yohan know that this was the least of his troubles. The real one started when the same journalist observed a two-second silence and then shouted, “Viewers. My dear viewers, I have some shocking BREAKING NEWS in the Ashraf Zain case.”
Chapter 2
What Happens in Bihar, Stays in and Out of Bihar
Yohan and team did not even get an opportunity to “try” and “take control” of the situation. The phone rang and they were summoned to Director Verma’s cabin. Since this was his first murder case as a lead officer, Yohan paused for a while and recollected the actions of his former team leads. There was already media attention for the case and, as of yesterday, scrutiny of the CBI started too. The news of his appointment would be out tomorrow and while he enjoyed the attention, it added extra performance pressure.
