Saboteur

by RV Raman

  ‘They seem familiar,’ Vishwanath replied, interrupting her. ‘These sound like some of the companies I generated reports for from Cogent India’s systems.’

  So the data cartridge found in Manoj’s shop was a backup of Cogent’s systems, and not MyMagicHat’s! Because it held MyMagicHat’s data, everyone had assumed that it was a backup of the company’s servers. That was why they had searched Cluster 3 and not Cluster 7!

  Moin must have discovered the error and paid for it with his life. The more Vibha thought about it, the more convinced she became.

  Finally, she had a breakthrough!

  ‘This is interesting, Vibha,’ Vishwanath went on. ‘You are the second person to ask these questions in the past week or so.’

  ‘Who was the first?’ Vibha’s heart was thudding in her chest.

  ‘Moin.’

  Barely managing to keep the excitement out of her voice, she terminated the call at the earliest opportunity and hurried back to the data centre. Reaching her desk, she froze.

  The diagram she had drawn was open and face up on her desk. She distinctly remembered placing it face down on the desk, with her notebook over it. Her notebook, which contained the list of 37 sellers and their seller codes, was missing.

  ■

  Han Tuen had had a few uncommonly busy days. Most days were busy for him, but the last four since Moin’s murder had been exceptionally so. And nerve-wracking too. Seldom in his career had he stood to lose so much in so few days. But he had raced against time…and won.

  Now, with a cognac in hand, he reached for his phone and called Nigel.

  ‘A tip-off for you, my friend,’ he said when the other man answered. ‘Nix the MyMagicHat deal right now. Don’t put another penny in it.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘I’m just returning the favour, Nigel. You were the one who told me about Moin’s murder. It’s my turn now.’

  ‘What do you mean, Han?’ Nigel was shocked. ‘I put 140 million dollars into MyMagicHat just last week!’

  ‘You know Copper Twig Investments, Nigel?’

  ‘You mean the early investor in MyMagicHat?’

  ‘Yes. They invested in the first four rounds of funding – Series A to D. At very favourable valuations, if I may say so.’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘Well, they’ve just exited MyMagicHat. Lock, stock and barrel.’

  ‘Okay. So?’

  ‘They sold at ₹337 per share, a good 15 per cent lower than the valuation you are offering MyMagicHat. It was a fire sale.’

  ‘Good Lord, Han! A down round. When did they sell?’

  ‘Sunday. They consummated it today.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Can’t tell you, my friend. Just take it from me.’

  ‘And the buyer? Who was it?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, but if you do want to know, it’s a pension fund manager from across the Pacific. But here is the big thing, Nigel. Make sure you’re sitting down. Ready?’

  ‘Yes,’ Nigel whispered.

  ‘Copper Twig made those investments on behalf of another firm; they were only a pass-through entity. The company behind the investments is an offshore company in the British Virgin Islands.’

  ‘BVI?’ Nigel’s voice was hushed. Tuen could feel the pain in his friend’s voice. ‘How bad does it get, Han? Give it to me as it is. Who is the hidden investor behind this offshore company in BVI?’

  ‘A Puraria scion. He has been round-tripping his money and investing back into MyMagicHat. By investing indirectly in the initial funding rounds, he has multiplied his investment twentyfold, if not more, by exiting now.’

  ‘That’s illegal, Han! Once this news hits the market, the bottom will fall out of MyMagicHat.’

  ‘It will, my friend. But you may just have a week to sell your stake.’

  ‘When did you learn about this, Han?’

  ‘Last evening. But I had suspected that something was wrong as soon as you told me about Moin. His murder is linked to this in some way.’

  ‘One of the Purarias killed him?’

  ‘That I can’t say. But I’ve sold my stake in MyMagicHat.’

  ‘You too!’ Nigel cried. ‘When?’

  ‘An hour back. I sold it at ₹312.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier, Han?’

  ‘I couldn’t have, Nigel. I had to sell my stake first. What would you have done in my place?’

  ‘Whom did you sell to?’

  ‘A hedge fund. They know it’s a fire sale and believe they got it cheaply.’

  After hanging up, Tuen made another call. This time, it was to Sashikant Puraria.

  ‘I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Mr Puraria,’ he told the old man. ‘I’ve sold my entire stake in MyMagicHat. I sold it at a discount of almost 20 per cent from the last valuation.’

  ‘Why, Han? Why at a discount?’

  ‘Because I had no choice. Yesterday, Copper Twig sold their stake at a 15 per cent discount.’

  A long silence punctuated the short conversation. Tuen could almost hear Sashikant thinking. At length, the older man broke the silence.

  ‘Is there more, Han?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, Mr Puraria. Copper Twig is only a front for an offshore company in the British Virgin Islands.’

  ‘I see… And who is behind this offshore company?’

  ‘Your son.’

  Chapter 27

  Late afternoon was giving way to early evening when the Innova carrying Dhruvi, Alex and Puneet passed Channapatna. Alex was on his three phones, talking in turn to the four groups of men scouting the area. Four candidates for the farmhouse had been identified, to which Alex had despatched four groups of men.

  ‘Send me photographs of the place,’ Alex told the four groups.

  Soon, Dhruvi and Puneet were looking at several snaps on one of Alex’s phones.

  ‘This is it!’ Puneet exclaimed, after a glance at the third snap. ‘See the rusting lorry outside the broken gate? The tractor and trailer inside the gate were also there last Friday.’

  ‘Have a look at the rest of the photos too,’ Dhruvi said. ‘Just in case another farmhouse looks similar.’

  A minute later, Puneet’s attention had returned to the third photo.

  ‘This is the place,’ he insisted with conviction. ‘See the sugarcane fields behind the building? That’s where I fled when I escaped. And the rocks and the tree along the side of the building? That’s where I fell and banged my head.’

  Alex set about speaking to the four groups, instructing them to converge unseen on the farmhouse Puneet had identified. Their Innova then turned right and bounced slowly along a potholed road before stopping at a kutcha lane running off to the left. A low granite building was visible at a distance through the trees.

  ‘Please stay in the car with the driver, Mr Kaul,’ Dhruvi said quietly, as she prepared to alight from the vehicle. ‘This can get rough and we don’t want you in the way.’

  A van drove up and deposited four plainclothesmen, who quickly dispersed into the shrubbery. Dhruvi and Alex, both in plain clothes, checked their pistols as they waited for confirmation that his men had surrounded the farmhouse.

  Ten minutes later, the Inspector and her deputy alighted from their vehicle and strode down the kutcha lane. As they reached the gate, they saw a man tinkering with the tractor.

  ‘Anyone at home?’ Alex asked in Kannada.

  ‘One person is there,’ the man replied.

  ‘What about the other two?’

  ‘Gone to the city.’

  ‘And the girl?’

  ‘What girl?’ The man stared suspiciously at Alex and Dhruvi.

  ‘Isn’t there a girl here?’ Dhruvi asked.

  ‘I have seen none.’

  ‘Have you been inside the building?’

  ‘To the hall and the kitchen, but I saw –’

  He broke off as the front door opened and a heavyset man stepped out on to the veranda.

&n
bsp; ‘Who are you?’ he asked roughly in broken Kannada, his eyes flitting from Alex to Dhruvi. ‘What do you want?’

  Alex walked up the three steps to the veranda. ‘Namaskara,’ he began, ‘pardon the intrusion, but I am looking for –’

  ‘They are asking for a girl,’ the man by the tractor cut in, addressing the one on the veranda. ‘I told them there is no girl here –’

  In a flash, the heavyset man spun around and darted back into the building. Ready for just such a reaction, Alex sprang forward and put his foot in the door, preventing the man from closing it, while Dhruvi raced up the steps and put her weight against the door. A few seconds later, two plainclothesmen joined them and the battle over the door was won.

  Vanquished in the unequal fight, the burly man took flight and raced through the hall to the back of the building, with Alex and Dhruvi hot on his heels. The man pulled out a keychain from his pocket and fumbled with it as he tried to fit the key into a large lock on the door.

  In the few precious seconds the man lost in the process, Dhruvi and Alex had crossed the hall. Once the man had opened the lock, he whipped out a long, evil-looking dagger that had been tucked into his waistband at the back.

  In response, Dhruvi pulled out her pistol.

  The man flung open the door and plunged inside, dagger in hand. In the corner of the room, the cringing figure of a scrawny girl, dirty and bruised, was visible through the door. The man was heading straight for her.

  ‘Down, Alex!’ Dhruvi called as her left hand shot up and lined up the pistol.

  Running a step or two ahead of her, Alex had a decision to make. Being closer to the man than Dhruvi was, he could get to him sooner. Alternatively, he could trust Dhruvi’s marksmanship. Neither option guaranteed success.

  He decided to follow the shouted order and dived to the floor, drawing his pistol as he went down.

  The man was but a couple of yards from the girl when Dhruvi’s pistol boomed. The bullet caught him at the back of knee, making him stumble against the far wall.

  But he didn’t fall. He turned towards the girl, who was now screaming in terror, and made as if to spring on her. Whether he wanted to take the girl hostage for negotiating his freedom or planned to knife her to death was not clear.

  Alex did not take any chances. Prone on the floor with his pistol aimed at the man, he fired before his quarry could launch himself at the girl. The bullet struck him in the shoulder. Already off-balance, the man was thrown against the wall. But he still held on to the dagger.

  ‘Stop!’ Dhruvi yelled. ‘Move back or we’ll shoot you down!’

  The man hesitated.

  ‘Drop the knife!’ Alex called, staying on the floor and keeping the pistol pointed at the man.

  When the man didn’t respond to the commands, Dhruvi fired again. The bullet drilled a hole in the wall a foot from his face, spraying chips of plaster into his eyes. That did the trick. Unnerved, the man released his weapon and the dagger clattered to the floor.

  Alex rose swiftly and interposed himself between the man and the cowering girl. Dhruvi, her pistol steady in her left hand, hurried to the girl as four plainclothesmen poured into the room behind her.

  ‘Take this man outside and close the door,’ Dhruvi ordered, putting away her pistol and kneeling beside the dazed girl, whose clothes were torn and dishevelled. ‘Find out about the other two men. Detain the man outside.’

  ‘Nitya?’ she said gently, stroking the girl’s hair.

  The girl regarded Dhruvi with glazed, uncomprehending eyes. At length, she nodded.

  ‘You’re safe now,’ Dhruvi whispered in English. ‘I’m a police officer.’

  A moment later, the dam burst and Nitya broke down in a paroxysm of sobs and shudders. Dhruvi held her for a long moment, speaking softly and trying to comfort her, as the girl wept her heart out. Alex, who had meanwhile taken the injured man to the hall, opened the door a crack and peeped in.

  ‘Find a bedsheet or two,’ Dhruvi instructed, glancing at him over her shoulder, while she continued to hold the weeping Nitya in her arms.

  Ten minutes later, Nitya had regained a semblance of composure and was wrapped in a bedsheet.

  ‘I have just one question to ask you now,’ Dhruvi whispered to the girl. ‘Because it is urgent. Can I?’

  Nitya nodded fearfully.

  ‘Who did this to you?’

  Anger and outrage erupted on the girl’s bruised face.

  ‘Darshan!’ she hissed.

  ■

  ‘I wrote bots for Darshan,’ Nitya said.

  She sat beside Dhruvi on a middle row seat of the Innova, as they drove back to Bengaluru. Alex sat in front, while Puneet had settled himself in the rear. Dusk was falling.

  ‘He called me on Saturday in the guise of giving me additional work and drugged me by spiking my drink. The next thing I knew, I was lying in this bloody place, hands and feet bound, with three thugs leering at me.’

  ‘Why would Darshan do such a thing?’ Dhruvi asked. ‘I presume you are talking about the man who heads the Puraria Group’s data centre in Bommasandra.’

  ‘Yeah, him. The filthy bastard! You’re asking me why he would do this? Because they’re carrying out the biggest frigging scam in the Indian e-commerce space, that’s why! You know what their bots do? They place lakhs of fake orders on MyMagicHat.’

  ‘But we’ve looked at them,’ Puneet protested. ‘All orders are paid for and delivered.’

  ‘So you think, pretty boy!’ Nitya retorted. ‘A vast majority of the orders are COD – cash on delivery, in case you didn’t know that. They are never paid for. The sellers just claim that they have been paid for and create fake delivery records in their systems. The customer names and addresses are fabricated too.’

  ‘What about the non-COD orders? There are some, surely?’

  ‘A few. They are paid from Internet banking accounts the sellers maintain for this very purpose.’

  ‘How can they fake shipment and delivery records in MyMagicHat’s systems? That’s not possible.’

  ‘Not in MyMagicHat’s systems, silly! They’re created outside, in the sellers’ systems. Then they’re uploaded to MyMagicHat like any genuine transaction. Not all orders are falsified ones. They mix the fake orders with genuine ones. As far as MyMagicHat is concerned, there was an order in their system, for which a shipment was made. And the delivery guy says he collected the money. They take it at face value.’

  ‘Okay, what about the money, then?’

  ‘You’re not very smart, are you?’ Nitya taunted. ‘These are all orders where MyMagicHat pays the seller, not the other way around –’

  ‘Gap-funded transactions!’ Puneet exclaimed. ‘Transactions where MyMagicHat sells below the seller’s price and funds the discount through incentives and marketing cost reimbursement. No cash actually comes from the seller to MyMagicHat!’

  ‘What?’ Nitya asked.

  ‘Never mind. You won’t understand.’

  Puneet grinned in delight at getting back at Nitya.

  Dhruvi let out a chuckle.

  ‘You see, Inspector?’ Puneet continued excitedly. ‘A brilliant scheme that can be pulled off only by someone who controls the entire supply chain. Including supplying products to the likes of SM Retail and New Horizon Traders, managing their logistics and managing their IT systems.’

  ‘Now you’re talking, Einstein,’ Nitya cut in. ‘There are many independent sellers on MyMagicHat – IRs, as Darshan calls them – for whom the Puraria Group does all the three things you mentioned – supply, logistics and IT.’

  ‘There are 37 such IRs,’ Dhruvi interposed.

  ‘So you know about them?’

  ‘A little bit. But please continue.’

  ‘These IRs have outsourced the running of their IT systems to Cogent India Technology Services, a Puraria Group company. All of them run their systems at Darshan’s data centre at Bommasandra. That is the nerve centre of the scam.’

  ‘So that’s wh
y the number of orders at MyMagicHat didn’t match with the number of orders at PRL,’ Puneet concluded. ‘What PRL received were only the genuine orders. The fake orders were suppressed by the IRs. Then their fictitious “shipment and delivery” details and the details of “cash collected” were fed back into MyMagicHat. Nobody in MyMagicHat would know the truth.’

  ‘That’s all fine,’ Alex drawled, back to his usual doleful self. ‘But what’s the point of all this? How does one gain from it? How –’

  Alex broke off as his mobile rang. He listened silently for a minute and hung up.

  ‘The man we captured has begun singing,’ he said. ‘The other two men left for the city early in the afternoon. They’ve gone to Darshan’s data centre.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ Dhruvi exclaimed. ‘Vibha!’

  Chapter 28

  Dusk was falling outside the deserted data centre, where most of the floor space was taken by hardware of various kinds, rather than by people. Vast, chilled rooms, with row upon row of server racks between false ceilings and false floors, formed the core. These endless banks of servers generated so much heat that they required powerful air-conditioning equipment; equipment that took up more floor space. And to ensure that the servers ran smoothly, still more space was devoted to power, communication and fire-suppression equipment, leaving only a tiny fraction of the data centre to house people.

  Virtually alone in this dominion of technology, save for the other two database administrators who were busy in the video-conference room Vibha was scared. How had the notebook disappeared? Why? What did it mean? Was someone on to her? Who? Here, where she was alone? But despite her frayed nerves, she had stuck to her task, and run several queries on the Cogent India databases.

  New Horizon Traders had received about 61,000 orders from MyMagicHat in September, but had placed only about 30,000 – all of them on Puraria Retail Limited. 31,000 orders had been left unaccounted for. However, all the 61,000 orders had been marked as closed – in other words, paid for and delivered.

  Similar was the case with SM Retail, though the total number of transactions was almost three times more than that received by New Horizon Traders. There, too, only about half the orders had been passed on to PRL.