She strained her neck to look out of the window in the direction the guide pointed and a little ahead saw the CCD logo.
‘Coffee? After this? Let’s finish this fast.’ So excited was she about having coffee at CCD that she didn’t leave Siddhartha with much of a choice. The weather was close to two degrees centigrade and the chill had made the prospect of a coffee, that too at CCD, very appealing to him.
By the time they were done with exploring the Parlament, there were four more missed calls from the same number. This Harshita got to know when she took out her phone as the two of them were settling down on a plush sofa in a cosy corner of CCD.
‘Two Macchiatos please,’ Siddhartha said loudly, forgetting for a minute that he was in Vienna and not in India. People there take offence to anyone screaming out their order. Thankfully for them, the person at the counter was an Indian.
‘Yippee!’ a yell from Harshita made Siddhartha turn towards her.
‘Don’t look at me like that. I yelled because Wi-Fi is free for thirty minutes for everyone who comes here. And it says that if your bill amount comes to more than fifteen euros, on a weekend, it’s free for twelve hours. Today is Sunday Sid. . .free Wi-Fi for twelve hours. . .wooooo. . .I am so thrilled.’
‘You and your fetish for free stuff!! I have no intention to sit here till the shop shuts down,’ said Siddhartha and went back to the menu card. Not only was he feeling hungry, he also had to run up a bill of fifteen euros, to make sure that his wife got unhindered access to free Wi-Fi.
Harshita started fiddling with her iPhone trying to connect to Wi-Fi so that she could download and check her mail. After struggling with it for a few minutes, she was able to connect—a success that she announced not only to Siddhartha but also to others in the coffee shop with an excited shout.
‘Wow, it’s fast. Twenty-six mails,’ she announced to Siddhartha, who didn’t seem very interested. She had left her personal mail ID with some of her colleagues, just in case they wanted to get in touch with her for something urgent. ‘It’s fast ya. All my mails got downloaded in forty-five seconds flat. That’s real fast. Considering that it’s free Wi-Fi, CCD rocks.’ And she started reading through the mails one by one.
‘Call back. It’s very urgent. Tried calling you so many times today.’ She read out one of the mails. ‘I think you should call him back. Something seems to be really wrong,’ Siddhartha advised.
‘Will call,’ she replied and at the same time typed back a response to that particular mail: ‘Get on Skype. Calling in ten minutes.’ She was confident that the mail would be seen on the BlackBerry. It was 5.00 p.m. in Vienna, and hence in India it would be well past dinnertime. Skype was a definite possibility.
‘We only have one more place to visit in this guided tour. Can we ditch it? We will see it tomorrow. What say?’
‘No problem. I’m tired too. Can do with some rest. And now that we have found this Indian coffee shop. . .you go ahead and finish whatever you have to do, while I enjoy my coffee.’ He raised his hand to catch the steward’s eye, and when the steward did look towards them, he just raised his index finger and pointed towards his cup. The steward understood that Siddhartha was asking for a repeat and went back towards the counter to get him more coffee.
Harshita didn’t have to struggle too much to connect on Skype. The call was picked up within the first few rings, indicating that the receiver had seen her mail and was ready. Internet speed was good resulting in good video quality. ‘Hiii. . .’ began Harshita, and then suddenly changed track. ‘Why are you looking like this? What happened?’
The call went on for twenty minutes. Harshita called the steward and asked for something to write on. After a minor confusion, the steward brought her a small piece of paper on which she took down some notes.
‘Okay, great. I will get back to you. Let’s connect on this at
4.00 p.m. tomorrow. Vienna time. By that time you will hopefully be back home. I will find out the details and let you know.’
‘Thanks, Harshita. Hope I haven’t screwed up your holiday, but this was important.’
‘No problems, sweety. Take care.’ She hung up only to see Siddhartha staring at her with raised eyebrows.
‘Oh Sid. You know na, what a darling he is,’ she cajoled. Siddhartha smiled; he knew the two were really great friends. He had no reason to doubt either of them. The raised eyebrows were because of something else. There was something about the call that gave him a bad feeling. Even though he heard only one side of the conversation—Harshita had put on her headphones— he was very uncomfortable. Something was wrong. But he just let it be. They were on a vacation, and there was no point spoiling the mood by worrying about unnecessary things. In any case he could always ask her what the call was about, later. And ask he did, as they were strolling back from CCD to their hotel, a couple of miles away. ‘Is everything alright? Why were you getting so worked up while talking to him? Is there a problem?’
‘No. Not much. It’s just that he wanted some help on some issue that’s come up. He wanted me to check on something. I told him that I will confirm by tomorrow evening.’
‘Confirm what?’
Seeing him edgy and inquisitive, Harshita narrated the entire story to him. ‘That’s all that he wanted to know. Happy sweetheart? Now the only problem is how to give him the information he needs by tomorrow evening.’
‘We have time na? It’s only six. We can do it tonight and revert to him by tomorrow. You can mail it to him tonight, in time for him to see when he gets to work tomorrow.’
‘No. He doesn’t want me to mail him. He said that he would prefer to do it on a call.’
‘Great that gives us more time. But we have a packed day tomorrow. We have a half-day trip to Hitler’s Eagles nest, for which we will have to leave at 7.30 a.m.’ said Siddhartha, reminding her of their tour schedule.
‘Oh yes. We’ll be back only by two. So I’ll have to complete it tonight itself.’
‘Great. Let’s quickly go and grab a drink. It looks like a long night to me. Let’s just pray it doesn’t snow.’
‘Yesss,’ said Harshita as she clutched his arm tightly and they walked back towards the hotel.
A little distance away, on Wiener Strasse, at the Wien Police Headquarters, the President of Police, Gerhard Purtsi was strolling up and down his cabin. Hands in his pockets, a smile on lips, and a relaxed look on his face; he belied the normal impression one would have of a tough cop. In attendance were all the department and zone heads of Vienna Police. It was a great occasion for them, and that’s why all of them were smiling on a Sunday evening despite being at work.
‘We have just crossed a very important milestone’, began Gerhard, in his deep voice. ‘In the whole of last year, eighteen murders were reported in Vienna, and I am glad to inform you that as of this morning, we have solved the 18th murder and that gives us a hundred per cent strike rate for the year. I can’t remember a single year in the history of Vienna Police when we have had such a strike rate.’
The entire team went up in applause. ‘It’s not me alone, but each one of you who has made this happen. I have called for a media briefing tomorrow. The briefing will be followed by our celebrations at The Imperial Grand at Karntner Ring. Please be there. It’s our moment of glory. Let’s bask in it.’
The entire room cheered, also in anticipation. The Imperial Grand was one of Vienna’s oldest and finest hotels. ‘Thanks gentlemen.’ Gerhard went on, ‘Tomorrow is our day. Let’s make it special.’
The last comment brought a smile on the faces of everyone present as they turned to leave. But before they could leave the room, the President thundered again, ‘And before you forget gentlemen, if I were you, I would get a good night’s sleep tonight, because after the media briefing tomorrow, you are bound to get pounded by calls from the media.’ The entire top brass of the police force was in a great mood that evening.
The next morning, the first working day of the week, the ballroom at the Imperial
Grand filled up very rapidly. Over a hundred reporters from the local and world media were jostling for space in the large ballroom with imposing chandeliers. Looking strikingly commanding in his uniform, Purtsi walked in. A well-defined swagger in his walk was reflective of a job well done. Some television channels cornered him for sound bytes, and he readily obliged without giving out the reason for the briefing.
Purtsi was about to take his position at the head of the table, when his deputy Johann Schroeder walked up to him. Schroeder, the perennial prince in-waiting—the longest serving deputy in the history of the Vienna Police—was a lot more popular than the snobbish Purtsi, more so for his trademark handle bar moustache.
Schroeder whispered something into Purtsi’s ear. He then walked up to the podium and started speaking, ‘Friends, something urgent has come up which needs the President’s attention. I would request you to be patient. He will be back with you in fifteen minutes,’ and both Schroeder and Purtsi walked out of the room.
‘This better be good,’ threatened Purtsi the moment they were out of earshot of the prying media.
‘I wish it was, Gerhard,’ said Schroeder with a stern look on his face. ‘Unfortunately, it isn’t.’
‘What’s the problem?’
Schroeder narrated the entire sequence of incidents to Gerhard whose facial expressions first depicted curiosity, then shock and finally anger. ‘What the hell?’
‘Does the media know? Can we hold this back for some time?’
‘That wouldn’t be advisable sir. We will have to take it head-on.’
‘I think you are right. Let’s go. We will face it.’
‘And Gerhard, here is the press statement that we have hurriedly put together, just in case the media asks too many questions.’
‘Thanks,’ was all that Gerhard could say as he accepted the paper and walked back to the media briefing.
There was sudden commotion in the briefing hall as Gerhard, followed by Schroeder, strode in. Everyone rushed to take their seats and cameramen moved towards their cameras to record the proceedings. Finally when everything settled down, Gerhard began to speak.
‘Friends I am extremely glad to inform you that as of today we have resolved all the homicide cases which took place in our capital city over the last year. This brings the investigation success rate to hundred per cent. I do not remember a single year when all murders were resolved in the same year. It is almost as if we are in Colombo,’ he smiled, ‘I’m sure you would have watched that popular US criminal series. . .the one starring Peter Falk,’ and he smiled again. Gerhard went on for the next ten minutes, outlining everything that his unit had done to make Vienna a crime-free city. He even compared the crime rates in Vienna with the neighbouring Czech Republic, labouring to explain how the crime graph in Vienna was far superior to the neighbouring countries. Not only was the crime graph better, even the rate of resolution was far superior. The police in Vienna was far more effective in controlling crime than anywhere else in the region.
The media was in awe, but something was holding them back from going gaga over the Vienna police and Gerhard could sense that. After the speech, the floor was thrown open to the media for questions.
‘Mr Purtsi. Congratulations on a stellar year in office. You have continued the good work done by your predecessors and maintained a very low crime rate. Kudos to your team for that. I just have one question. I believe there has been a serious incident last night involving foreigners and tourists. Can you please tell us more about it?’
Gerhard turned left and looked at Schroeder, a visible act of nervousness. It was only for a fraction of a second, but the media caught on to it. They sensed that something was wrong.
‘Yes, I would like to confirm that there has been an incident last night involving two tourists. Even though all indications are it is a hit and run case, we haven’t ruled out homicide.’
There was an immediate chatter that ran through the room. Some of the reporters who hadn’t heard about what was being discussed wanted to know more. In no time, it had become loud enough for Schroeder to step in and ask the media to focus on the main agenda of the press briefing and put forth their questions to Gerhard.
‘Can you tell us more about this incident?’ someone screamed even before Schroeder could complete his statement.
‘Okay. We will give you all the details we have at this point in time.’ Schroeder took over the media briefing from the President as he had more information on the incident.
‘Last night, it is suspected, sometime between 02:45 hours and 03.15 hours, at a blind spot just off Ringstrasse two people were run over by a garbage disposal van. According to the driver of the van, who has been taken into custody, the two were lying in the middle of the road, possibly drunk, when the van turned into the alley. He was at a reasonable speed and it was almost impossible for him to stop in time and he ran over them. The road conditions were wet and slippery on account of overnight sleet. We are verifying the facts of the case and have some vital clues, which will help us resolve it soon. An autopsy is being performed. We will brief the media once we know the results.’
‘Where were the two tourists from?’
‘The tourists were from India. Nothing was recovered from their person and hence there was some delay in identifying them. We had to run a match against the immigration database, post which we were able to establish their identities. They have been identified as an Indian couple, visiting Vienna on a tourist visa—Mrs and Mr Lele. Harshita Lele and Siddhartha Lele. The Indian embassy has been informed and they are working with their counterparts in India to get in touch with the family of the deceased and inform them about this tragic occurrence. As always, the Vienna police is committed to solving this in the quickest possible time. We will keep the media informed as and when we have more information.’
‘Was the truck over speeding?’
‘Like all other utility vans in Vienna, this one too was fitted with a speed governor, which was found to be working fine, and hence the question of over speeding does not arise.’
‘What were the tourists doing at 2.30 a.m.? Everything including the bars and pubs are shut by then?’
‘Unfortunately I don’t have an answer for that. We are piecing together the story from the information we have. Once we have the complete picture, we will let you know.’
This one issue hijacked the rest of the media briefing. Death of tourists in a friendly city like Vienna was a serious issue for the media and the police was unable to allay all their concerns. It was probably just the awkward timing of the incident. The President of Police, Gerhard Purtsi, was caught in no-man’s land. The media wanted answers and it was a bit too close to the time of occurrence of the event. ‘Give me some time, I will be able to give you further details soon,’ was what he ended the media conference with. He was a bit pained though, that no one really bothered to see that the overall crime rate in Vienna had dropped.
17
Mumbai
30th January 2012
That afternoon, Tanuja was in office going through a PowerPoint presentation to be urgently sent across to the GB2 regional headquarters in Singapore when she got a call. It was from a representative of the Ministry of External Affairs (MEA), informing her about the unfortunate death of Harshita and Siddhartha in Vienna. They called her because they didn’t know the contact details of either of their families.
‘We will send someone to personally convey this. In fact, I will go myself,’ Tanuja volunteered.
‘That will be good, madam. You have my telephone number. Please call me and let me know once you have spoken to them.’
‘Sure.’
The moment the MEA person disconnected, Tanuja called out to her secretary. ‘Melinda, get me Vikram!’ He too was shocked when he heard what Tanuja told him.
‘I think we must go personally. Let’s not leave it to the branch to handle,’ Vikram agreed. ‘Have you told her sister?’ he asked.
‘Sister?’
&
nbsp; ‘Yes, she works with us. In Raymond’s team.’
‘Oh. Didn’t know that.’ Tanuja was surprised. ‘Let me try to get in touch with her.’
Within five minutes, Tanuja called back, ‘She’s just got onto a flight from Calcutta. Won’t be here for the next three hours. Even Raymond is not traceable. We might have to go. You coming?’ and after a couple of seconds added, ‘we don’t even know where her parents stay.’
‘That’s okay, I’ll come. Have already told Nikhil to find out. Apparently they stay somewhere in Juhu. Nikhil said he will come with us. Let’s pick him up on the way.’
‘Sounds good. If more people go, it’ll be easier to manage.’
‘Done. Ten minutes, at the main entrance. Not in the basement. See you there.’
‘Great.’ Tanuja’s hand was shaking as she kept the phone down. Picking up her bag, she gave instructions to her secretary and walked out of her cabin. The secretary immediately picked up the phone to call her driver to ask him to bring the car up to the main entrance of the building.
The head of security smiled at Tanuja as she reached the entrance. Being closer to her office, Tanuja had reached there ahead of Vikram. The security guards were busy checking the bags of customers waiting to enter the branch. Tanuja had blanked out. She was pointlessly looking at the metal detector, when a tap on her shoulder broke her reverie.
‘Hey Tanuja.’
‘Hey. What brings you here?’
‘Nothing. Just came in to meet Raymond.’
‘Raymond?’ Tanuja was surprised.
‘Yes Tanuja. Had some work.’
What work could he have with Raymond? Tanuja wondered. However, she recovered quickly. ‘How are you doing? Long time.’
The Bankster (Ravi Subramanian) Page 13
