When he dropped it, the cheque went into a free fall, dropped half-way into the box and stopped. Raymond was turning to leave when, from the corner of his eye, he saw half the cheque sticking out. Cursing the cheque, the cheque box and everything around it, he turned back and pulled the cheque out. Maybe he hadn’t dropped it in properly. Maybe some other cheque was stuck, blocking the smooth flow of his cheque into the box. It was unlikely the box was full. These cheque deposit boxes were designed in such a manner that they never filled up; in case they did, it would be quite easy for someone with a sharp instrument to pull out the cheques on top and misuse them, though given the security ATM lobbies have, such incidents only had a theoretical possibility.
He tried to force the cheque in once again. Like the previous time, the cheque got stuck midway. Something was blocking its path. It was peculiar. He got down on his knees and peered inside. Inexplicably, it seemed to be full. There seemed to be lot of cheques inside the box. Straining his neck, he got his eyes in line with the slot and again tried to peer inside. As he pushed himself deeper to get a better sight, the wood of the box began to poke his cheek. He couldn’t have gone any further. A couple of branch guys passed him. One of them stopped and asked him, ‘Is there a problem Raymond? Can I help?’
‘No, it’s okay. I think I dropped a wrong piece of paper in this, just trying to see if I can get it out. Don’t worry.’ He called out to the guard. ‘Do you have a torch?’
The guard nodded and produced a torch from his kit in no time. Raymond took it from him and pointed the beam of light straight into the slit in the box. He pulled up, blinked his eyes a few times and went back to examining the box. It was a bit hazy; he couldn’t make out what was inside. As he moved his gaze away from the box for the second time, his phone rang. He looked at the screen, lifted his head, looked around and into the branch before he picked up the phone.
‘Hello?’
‘Raymond.’
‘Tell me.’
The conversation went on for the next three minutes, after which he picked the box and walked back into the branch. This time, he did not go to Anand’s cabin. Without even waiting for the lift, he walked up two floors, straight into Nikhil’s cabin. Nikhil was packing up to leave.
Seeing Raymond walk into his office, he smiled. ‘What Raymond, planning to lose some weight? This kind of weightlifting is not good, dude.’
‘Nikhil, I want this box opened right now,’ said Raymond, completely ignoring Nikhil’s poor attempt at cracking a joke.
‘What’s wrong?’ The firmness in Raymond’s voice made Nikhil realize that this was not a casual visit. ‘You sound pissed.’
‘I am pissed, Nikhil. Very, very pissed.’ He went on to tell him everything he knew.
‘Relax. We will find out. Don’t worry.’
Nikhil called Anand and asked for the duplicate keys to the cheque deposit box. ‘It will be better if you come up with the keys, Anand,’ he said, before banging the phone down. In no time Anand came up. Someone from his team had seen Raymond take up the box to Nikhil and warned Anand; he was ready with the keys even before Nikhil called.
When they opened the box, all of them were shocked. Inside the box, were twenty-eight hurriedly-stuffed blank investment slips signed by customers. Most banks instruct their relationship managers and wealth managers not to take blank instruction slips from customers. These slips are normally signed when customers ask the bank to invest, or redeem, their money into mutual funds. RMs, in the quest for quick returns, might use these blank but signed forms and transferred customer funds into mutual funds without explicit customer instruction, or even swap them across mutual funds without checking with the customer. The bank earns its revenue from the mutual fund company and the RM meets their targets. Eventually, nothing is hidden from the customer and when he does find out, either the RM silences him with some other sops or the matter snowballs into a major customer service and compliance issue. To prevent any of this and ensure greater transparency, most banks ban their RMs from holding blank customer mandates. In GB2, like in most other banks, this was a sackable offence.
Raymond was livid. ‘See. Didn’t I tell you?’ Nikhil looked at Anand, who had no answer.
‘There’s no point asking Anand. He clearly doesn’t know about this. This has been done by someone from his team. When they saw the Audit team coming in, they quietly and stealthily stuffed all these papers into the cheque deposit box so that no one would get to know. We normally don’t check the ATM lobby as it’s covered by a separate audit. This issue would have remained undetected were it not for my own cheque, which I wanted to deposit.’
‘Whose accounts are these, Anand?’ Nikhil, too, sounded pained. ‘I wonder what else is hidden beneath the carpets in your branch.’
‘I will find out, Nikhil. Give me some time.’
‘Not required, Nikhil. I will tell you whose accounts these are.’
‘What?’ Nikhil looked at Raymond and suspiciously asked him, ‘How do you know?’
‘It’s my job to know, Nikhil. Just ask Anand to confirm if all these are Zinaida’s accounts.’
‘Zinaida?’ Nikhil wore a grim look as he nodded to Anand, who went out of the room. Within ten minutes, he was back. This time the look on his face was enough for Raymond to declare victory. ‘I rest my case. I will send you my report tomorrow, but be assured, it’s going to be a difficult one for you to respond to,’ Raymond threatened, as he started walking out of Nikhil’s room. Hardly had he stepped out of Nikhil’s room when he turned back and walked towards Nikhil’s table where the cheque deposit box was kept, dipped into his shirt pocket, pulled out something and dropped it amongst the large mess of cheques and documents on Nikhil’s table. ‘Oops, before I forget. Let me drop this real cheque into this box. Isn’t that what the box is meant for?’ he said, smiled and walked out of the room, leaving Nikhil and Anand looking at each other. He removed his phone from his pocket and redialled the most recent number on his call log.
‘Thanks Harshita,’ he said, as he walked out towards his car.
‘Not a problem, Raymond. I saw it happen, so I thought I should let you know. But I guess you had seen it before I could tell you the story.’
‘Oh no. If you had not told me, I would have assumed some customers had dropped some papers by mistake and might not have insisted on the box being opened. Thanks for your help.’
‘Always a pleasure, Raymond,’ and she disconnected. The moment she disconnected, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
‘Who were you talking to, Harshita? To Raymond? What a bitch you are!’
‘It’s none of your business, Zinaida,’ an agitated Harshita retorted, as she turned away from her and walked to her cubicle. From the corner of her eye, she could see Zinaida walk up to Anand, who was heading towards his cabin with the cheque deposit box in hand. Anand looked angry—and rightfully so— but Zinaida’s charm was enough to cool him down. She could see them having a long and animated conversation. Finally, when Zinaida lifted her hand and pointed towards Harshita’s cubicle, she knew it was time to leave. It would have been difficult for her to face Anand and Nikhil after having squealed to Raymond. While she knew what she had done was right, her conscience was pricking her for not being a team player. In any case, she would be back only after three weeks. Hopefully by then, everything would have settled down. It was holiday time. A week hence, visa formalities permitting, she would be off on her European sojourn.
13
Devikulam
First Week of January 2012
A princely sum of $3 billion had already been spent on the Trikakulam Nuclear Power Plant by the government of India. There was lot at stake from a political as well as a financial standpoint. The plant was ready to go live in another sixty days.
It was now or never for Krishna. If they didn’t manage to do anything in the next two months, their protest would be futile. Apart from Krishna and Jaya, the core protest team had now expanded to include some powerful and
influential people. Two other NGOs, an independent MLA, a satrap of the local opposition party, Madan Mohan, had joined in. Krishna was initially opposed to politicians joining the battle, but Jaya convinced him otherwise. ‘They are a necessary evil. It’s better to have them on your side. This will bring in the media, the people and also lend us significant financial clout,’ Jaya explained.
Taking inspiration from Mahatma Gandhi and his effective non-violent means of protest, a massive rally coinciding with Mahatma Gandhi’s death anniversary was planned. Monday, the 30th of January, was the day the battle against Trikakulam was to enter the home run.
Work for this protest began weeks in advance. Posters were printed, communication meetings organized, vehicles hired, announcements made in almost every street corner, street plays organized, local colleges and high schools galvanized, media brought, advertisements imploring people to come in and be a part of this protest inserted, everything that could be physically and financially done was done.
One morning, Krishna woke up to an unexpected full-page advert in the local edition of The Hindu newspaper. Apparently inserted by the Central government, which had taken all the credit for the commissioning of TNPP fourteen years ago, the advertisement listed that TNPP was one of the major initiatives taken by the Centre for the betterment of the lives of people in the region. The ad surprised Krishna because such propaganda was normally seen only if the days of the ballot were approaching and they were at least a couple of years away from elections of any kind. This clearly was the beginning of an attempt to sway public opinion in favour of TNPP. The government was rattled by their call for a rally.
‘The advertisement is quite damning. I only hope our people are not swayed by it. We need to counter it,’ said Jaya that day, sipping freshly brewed coffee at Krishna’s resort.
‘But how? We know the Russians reactors are not as safe as the ad claims them to be. And have you heard of this Global Seismological Research and Mining Association (GSRMA), whose report the advertisement refers to and claims that the region is very low-risk as far as earthquakes are concerned? The earthquake zoning of India, on the contrary, puts Devikulam in Zone 3.’
‘Moderate risk of a quake,’ agreed Jaya.
‘Yes. How do we make sure people do not get influenced? They are gullible and that’s what the government is playing upon.’
‘I have an idea,’ Jaya suddenly got up. ‘Come, let’s go.’ He led Krishna up the stairs to the business centre within the resort. As he opened the door and walked in, the business centre in charge welcomed them. ‘We need some privacy. Can you give us fifteen minutes?’ The executive looked at Krishna, who nodded. Within no time, the executive disappeared, leaving them alone in the room.
‘Can you log on to the Internet?’
‘All the computers are connected to the Internet.’
‘Great,’ Jaya sat down on one computer. Krishna stood beside him.
‘Come. Sit down next to me,’ said Jaya, as he clicked on the Skype logo and the login screen appeared.
‘Your Skype ID and password?’ he asked Krishna. Jaya was aware Krishna spoke with his clients on Skype. Krishna quietly reached over and logged into Skype using his ID and password.
Once that was done, Jaya keyed in a strange sounding ID— stopnuclearproliferation—and pressed the video call button. In no time, the call got connected and someone came on line. Krishna didn’t recognize him. He had never seen that guy before. The line was quite clear, as evidenced by the clarity of the picture and sound.
‘Hello Dr Kohl, how are you?’ exclaimed Jaya. Seeing the blank look on Krishna’s face, he introduced the stranger to him. ‘Krishna, meet Dr Heldrich Kohl.’
‘Hello, Dr Kohl,’ said Krishna. And turned and looked at Jaya, wondering who Dr Kohl was.
‘Dr Kohl is an expert on issues that could crop up on account of seismological imbalance. He has also done a research paper on how security measures at the plant could be compromised in case of an inherent terrorist strike. His expertise can help us counter the claims made in today’s advertisement.’ Krishna smiled. So Dr Kohl was a friend who was going to help them.
‘I am a close friend of Mr Yayakumar, have known him for a long time. What say, Yaya?’ The manner in which he said ‘Jaya’ was quite hilarious. Krishna realized only later during the conversation that Kohl was born to a German father and a Dutch mother, leading to a very strong Dutch influence in his English. The Dutch are known to pronounce all J’s as Y’s. That’s why Jayakumar became Yayakumar when Kohl spoke.
It was an interesting call. Dr Kohl was very forthcoming and shared all information he could. Krishna was quite surprised at his knowledge of the intricacies of TNPP. He even queried Dr Kohl about it, to which Kohl said that as a research scientist, he was tuned into various nuclear sites across the world which were, in any case, few and far in between. It seemed like a reasonable explanation and Krishna didn’t query him much after that.
Krishna invited him to his resort, if Dr Kohl were to ever visit India. Kohl didn’t respond to the offer. Probably he didn’t understand the English Krishna spoke, or so thought Krishna as they hung up after a forty-minute call.
Later, at around six in the evening, another scientist from France, Louis Bourgeu, came on a call with Jaya and Krishna. The latter was surprised on two counts. One was the ease with which Jaya could connect him to the international scientists. But what shocked him even more was the fact that the entire international community was tuned in to the developments at TNPP. Both Kohl and Bourgeu seemed aware of everything, including the full-page advertisement of that day. The access to the best brains in the business made him feel powerful.
What began that day as a one-off Skype call became a routine. Nuclear scientists from various western countries would give tips and advise the two of them, helping them counter-balance the government aggression. By the time the day of the protest drew near, the two of them, with assistance from scientist friends all over, had worked out an eleven point agenda—a document which contained all their objections to the TNPP and its after-effects.
As a consequence of the eleven point charter, the government promptly set up a review committee which worked with the citizens’ team and eventually submitted a three-hundred page report to the government, surprisingly within two weeks, which, backed by the global scientists, rubbished almost everything Krishna and Jaya were saying.
And finally when the Prime Minister came on national TV and defended TNPP stating, ‘It’s the safest nuclear plant in the world’, it was clear: the battle lines had been drawn.
There was no option but to go ahead as planned with the strike on January 30th—a protest Jaya and Krishna had been planning for weeks.
14
GB2, Mumbai
Last Three Weeks of January 2012
A furious Raymond published the audit report in the next two days. Ideally he would have waited for a week to do it, but he was very agitated. He wanted to get it out of the way and bring the guilty to book.
The report scathingly reprimanded the Bandra branch. It rubbished Zinaida and the team of relationship managers. Raising serious questions about the internal control team in the branch and the checks they did, it just stopped short of questioning Anand’s leadership in the branch. The report was also marked to Vikram.
When he saw the report, Nikhil was livid. This was one of his first reports as a cluster head and it was a C-minus report. He knew every word in the report was true. There was no one but the branch team to blame. And there was one name that stood out in the report—Zinaida.
Nikhil forwarded the report to Anand with only one comment. ‘Take a look. We need to respond carefully. It might be difficult for us to protect her. Please send me a draft response by tomorrow.’ Anand quietly drafted a soft response and sent it to Nikhil, who relayed it to Raymond without making any changes.
That evening, Raymond got a call from Juliana’s secretary. ‘Femme Fatale wants to see you in her cabin. Can you come?�
�
‘Five minutes.’
Within the promised time Raymond was knocking on the door to Juliana’s cabin. He was sure she had seen the report and called him to discuss the next course of action. He was right— almost.
‘Raymond,’ she began. ‘I saw the report you sent to Vikram’s team.’
‘The Bandra branch one.’
‘Yes, Raymond. The same one.’
‘They tried to cheat us, Juliana. We have a problem there. They have responded to the audit queries and have accepted their wrongdoing. We will now be circulating their responses to the core team.’
‘I have seen it, Raymond.’ This statement shocked Raymond. He had not sent it to her. How had she managed to get it?
‘You’ve seen it? But I didn’t send their responses to you.’
Juliana didn’t bother to answer. ‘I want you to retract the report.’
‘What? Sorry. . .what, Juliana? You want me to withdraw the report?’
‘You heard me,’ Juliana nodded.
‘But why? The branch team has accepted everything they did. They have agreed to the report.’
‘Raymond. Do I have to explain every decision of mine? Do I have to tell you that external parties see audit reports like these?’ Seeing the blank look on Raymond’s face, she elaborated. ‘RBI, the board, etc see these reports and can use it to castigate the bank. You have to be careful of what to put in an audit report and what to take up outside the formal audit report. In this report, particularly, I noticed you have been extremely ruthless and harsh on the branch and even on certain youngsters who are just kick-starting their careers. This is not good. I don’t want brashness in my team. Make sure that, henceforth, these reports are more constructive in nature.’
Clearly this was not the Juliana he knew. This demeanour, the stance she was taking was quite strange. In the past, she always pushed him to highlight any issues he might have found in the formal audit report. It was abnormal, to say the least.
The Bankster (Ravi Subramanian) Page 11
