by M. N. KRISH
‘Hello, Doc,’ a woman’s voice said. ‘Carla Silver here.’
But the introduction was unnecessary. Though Joshua had forgotten about Carla given his other preoccupations, the way she addressed him made it obvious who was calling.
Joshua switched on the bed-lamp. ‘So what does my midnight messenger have for me?’
‘Not glad tidings, I’m afraid,’ Carla said.
Joshua sat up like a ramrod. ‘What happened?’
‘Mr Williams’ computers have been stripped clean, Doc. The laptops are gone and the desktops are all missing a hard disk. We couldn’t find a single storage device anywhere. No diskettes, no CDs, no zip drives, no thumb drives, nothing at all. His home and office have been digitally denuded, Doc. Digitally denuded. So we couldn’t even check if 70209 was a password or something.’
Joshua was stunned into silence. All that could be heard at his end was his raspy breathing.
Carla continued.
‘We checked out his email, but nothing much there. No mention of seventy, twenty and nine anywhere, together or separately. Either he didn’t leave any tracks or somebody cleaned them up after the fact. So it looks like he was really on to something like you feared.’
‘Did you try going after that Edwin guy?’
‘We’re still at it, Doc. But there’s nothing so far.’
Silence.
‘If I could make a suggestion . . .’
‘By all means.’
‘Why don’t you talk to a couple of my old students in New York? They’re into Risk Management downtown. You could check with them if they’re seeing anything funny in their banks. They’re all highly placed in the org charts and would definitely know if there’s something wacky going on in the industry. I can give you their names if you like.’
‘That would be great,’ Carla said. ‘Thanks. But what exactly do I need to ask them?’
‘Ask them if they’re seeing any sudden spike in out-of-pattern activities or financial payouts in the last few weeks, or a slow, unexplained surge in fraud over the last two to three years. That’ll tell us if there’s anything new or it’s an extension of the old affair,’ Joshua said.
‘Could I use your name as reference?’
‘You can, but watch out how you approach them. Make it as casual and informal as you can, keep everything verbal and off the record. They’re not going to open up otherwise. They’ll ask you to talk to their attorney and you know where that’ll lead.’
‘I know.’
‘Don’t panic them in any way because it could end up spooking the markets and have the Feds swooping in on you, which is mainly why I’m not approaching them myself,’ Joshua said.
He passed on the names of seven of his students and said, ‘If you call up my assistant Nancy, she can give you all their phone numbers. You can look up Nancy’s number on my homepage.’
‘I have Nancy’s number,’ Carla said. ‘We’re already in touch with her.’
‘With Nancy?’ Joshua asked, taken aback.
‘Yeah. There’ve been some other developments here, Doc. That’s the reason I’m calling you,’ Carla said. ‘Wanted to give you the heads-up and seek your cooperation.’
Joshua’s heart began thumping faster. ‘What developments?’ he asked.
‘Someone’s broken into your office . . . A lot of stuff’s gone missing.’
Carla paused, presumably to give Joshua time to swallow the news. But it sank in rather quickly. Within seconds. It even made logical sense. If someone could have his laptop pinched from a hotel suite in India, what was going to stop them from breaking into his office?
Carla continued.
‘Nancy found out about it when she came into work this morning and called the MIT Police. One thing led to another and we finally got looped in. So now the Massachusetts State Police is working together with us on this. . . . Your office . . . it was more or less like how it happened with Mr Williams. The hard disk in your computer, CDs –’
‘Don’t even tell me,’ Joshua sighed in resignation.
‘If I could make a confession, Doc, I didn’t fully realize the sutra thing was so serious,’ said Carla. ‘I do now. But we need something more concrete to go on.’
‘Talk to my students first. I have a hunch they’ll tell you something.’
‘That’s what I’m gonna do today,’ Carla said.
‘All right, then,’ Joshua said, ready to hang up.
‘There is just one more thing,’ Carla said.
‘What?’
‘Your house in Wellesley . . .’
Joshua’s heart skipped a beat. But he recovered quickly. He should have seen that coming.
‘Your neighbour saw somebody moving about early morning with a flashlight and called 911,’ Carla said. ‘Whoever it was, he was gone by the time the cops came. So we don’t know what happened –’
‘Do you even want to guess?’
‘We would actually like to take a look inside, but the house is locked and we can’t go in without your permission. Would you mind?’
‘Go ahead, but don’t mess up the place,’ Joshua said. They had to get the security company to rejig the place, but that would be a job for Becky.
‘We won’t. We’ll just pop in and out. You have my personal guarantee,’ Carla said. ‘Think we could dust up the place for prints?’
‘You can try, but I suspect you’re not going to find any. Even if he isn’t a particularly bright guy, he would’ve had to wear mittens in the winter.’
Carla thanked Joshua and hung up after wishing him good night. But she had driven out whatever little sleep Joshua was going to get. He was in such ferment that he did not even think about calling Becky and telling her what had happened in their home. The first person that sprang to his mind was Lakshman. Paying no heed to the fact that it was past one in the morning, he dialled away.
Much to Joshua’s surprise, Lakshman picked up the phone even before the first ring died down.
‘Wow,’ said Joshua, somewhat taken aback. ‘You’re up so late?’
‘Reading a student’s thesis, Josh,’ Lakshman said.
‘So late?’
‘It’s long overdue. I was hoping to get it done a couple of days ago, but haven’t been sober enough, thanks to you,’ Lakshman said.
Joshua laughed.
‘We’ve already had two suicides this year, one of them a PhD student whose thesis kept getting delayed. I don’t want to see my student joining the line. I’m actually staying up with a huge flask of coffee,’ Lakshman said. ‘Anyway, what’s up?’
Joshua brought Lakshman up to speed.
‘Looks like someone’s searching for something everywhere,’ Lakshman said.
‘Or trying to destroy all traces of it,’ Joshua said.
‘You mean the Sulba Sutra algorithm?’
‘What else? I have different versions of the thing sitting on my computers.’
‘But you also have it in your head. You can always recreate it.’
‘Provided I stay alive,’ Joshua said, only half-joking. ‘Even so, that would take time, wouldn’t it?’
‘True.’
‘Maybe that’s all they want right now: time.’
‘Time for what?’ Lakshman asked.
‘Time for whatever scam they’re running.’
‘I think I really need to take a look at your paper, Josh,’ said Lakshman. ‘Only then will I be able to relate to some things better.’
‘I think so too,’ said Joshua. ‘I’m so deep in the forest I can no longer see the wood for the trees. I need a fresh pair of eyes to take a look at the stuff.’
‘But all your computers are gone.’
‘True, but I may still have a copy in my mailbox somewhere, an older version maybe, but something’s better than nothing. I just ne
ed to find a way to connect to the server and check.’
‘Why don’t you come down to my office in the morning? I can get a student to help you. They know how to fiddle with the machines and networks better than I do.’
‘Sounds good,’ Joshua said. ‘I can also go take a good look at my mails. I want to see if Jeffrey was trying to get in touch in the last couple of months when I was in Bangalore. Nancy could have missed it.’
‘Nancy?’ Lakshman asked, puzzled.
‘Yeah. I rely on her completely to manage my office when I travel. I read and respond to only those emails that she flags as important. Others just sit in my mailbox, unread, sometimes for years. If Jeffrey could mention my name on a 911 call, who knows, he might well have been trying to reach me earlier. Nancy may have just ignored him,’ Joshua said. ‘I’ll be in your office the first thing tomorrow morning and check it out.’
31
Joshua unburdened himself over a long call with Becky and crashed on the bed a little after three o’clock. Thanks in no small measure to the backbreaking drive to Kanchipuram and the alcohol, he slept like a log. He would have slumbered on till afternoon if the ringing of phone hadn’t shaken him awake. He sat up with a start and grabbed the phone in a fit of panic wondering who was calling so late at night, but he calmed down when he heard the voice of Durai greeting him at the other end.
‘Jeez, it’s morning already?’ he mumbled to himself and said, ‘Yes, Durai?’
‘I have something, sir.’
‘Why don’t you come up to the suite in twenty minutes? I’ll be ready for you then.’
Durai walked into the suite in his bleached white uniform and refused coffee or chair as before. But Joshua was used to it now.
‘A driver told me something today, sir,’ Durai said.
Joshua arched his eyebrows eagerly.
‘Mr Williams was not always alone, sir,’ Durai said. ‘There was another person with him sometimes.’
Joshua had to struggle not to show his shock. ‘You got his name?’
‘No sir. I asked but no one knew.’
‘Did he stay here as well?’
‘No sir,’ Durai said. ‘He didn’t stay here. He stayed in his house.’
‘In his house? You mean he’s Indian?’
‘Yes sir,’ Durai said. ‘His house is in Egmore. That’s where he stays.’
Joshua’s brain cells were already pulsating with energy. But he tried to keep a poker-face and said, ‘Egmore. I remember that name.’
‘Yes sir. Sometimes he used to come here to meet Mr Williams and sometimes Mr Williams went to his house.’
‘Did you find out where it is?’
‘Yes sir,’ Durai said with a smile of accomplishment. ‘One driver gave me a good idea of the place. I think I know where it is.’
~
Lakshman was busy on the phone when Joshua tapped on the door and peered in. He signalled five and resumed his conversation. The way he was sitting hunched over at his desk, reading glasses slinking down the aquiline nose and a thoughtful frown etched on his face, Joshua knew it was no trivial matter. He whispered a sorry and withdrew into the corridor.
Lakshman had made a crucial error of omission with regard to the ceremony for Pomonia and was trying to rectify it. While requesting Pomonia’s measurements for the regalia, he had forgotten to ask for his cap size. The dress code for the annual convocation ceremony involved only a gown and Lakshman had gone by those requirements from memory. But Chamundeeswari reminded him of a hoary custom at the Institute as per which elite honourees were crowned with a specially designed bonnet when they were awarded their degree. She suggested that they follow the same protocol for Pomonia to avoid complaints later. Unwilling to take any chances, Lakshman took her advice and got into the act immediately.
Pomonia had assigned his confidant and chief operating officer Sridhar Subramanian to handle all matters relating to the ceremony and asked the Institute to work with him going forward. Popularly known as Srisu, no doubt an archetypal, highly placed Tamil Brahmin, one who lacked the guts and nuts to be the chief crook himself but knew the knack of playing a loyal pet poodle to one, Sridhar Subramanian was now Lakshman’s primary point of contact in Pomonia’s office. Lakshman had read about Srisu in the papers and never imagined he would be dealing with him one day. With just one link separating him from Pomonia, Lakshman couldn’t help a shiver running down his spine as Srisu came alive at the other end. Lakshman suddenly understood what dealing with the high and mighty really meant. Fortunately he had braced himself for the encounter and went about it in a methodical fashion. He introduced himself to Srisu, broke the ice with some flattery and platitudes and got down to brass tacks, requesting Pomonia’s cap size.
‘Before or after staff meeting?’ Srisu asked.
Lakshman was completely flummoxed. ‘I’m not sure I understand,’ he said.
‘Sorry, inside joke,’ Srisu said. ‘After every staff meeting, Pomonia sir comes out so furious shouting at everyone you can see all the veins bulging like snakes on his forehead; the cap size would be much bigger at that time.’
Srisu laughed. But Lakshman didn’t.
‘Why are you academics always so serious?’ Srisu said. ‘You need to learn to loosen up. . . . Anyway don’t worry, I’ll be chasing Pomonia sir with a tailor’s tape wherever he goes. Will email you the size as soon as I’m able to run it around his head. If you need anything else, please feel free to email me.’
Lakshman hung up after thanking Srisu and heaved a sigh of relief. He stepped out of his office to get Joshua waiting in the corridor.
‘Hey, my driver’s got some news,’ Joshua said. ‘Seems like Jeffrey might’ve had a local collaborator.’
‘Local? You mean, here in India?’
‘Here in India and here in this city.’ Joshua filled him in and asked, ‘So want to go with me and check him out?’
‘He knows the place?’
‘He seems to have a good idea. It’s in Egmore.’
Lakshman looked at his watch for a second and said, ‘Okay.’
‘It’s not too far is it?’
‘No, we should be there in forty-five minutes if the traffic isn’t too bad.’
~
‘This is the place, sir.’ Durai Raj pulled up under a tree and pointed at a blue-grey building.
The carving on the front wall read:
Temple View Gardens
32
‘Are you sure this is the right place?’ Lakshman asked.
‘Fairly sure, sir,’ Durai said and showed him a slip of paper with directions. It had the name Temple View scrawled out near an X mark. ‘Only the other driver can confirm it, but he is driving some people to Tirupathi today. He’ll be back only tomorrow. But he said it’s a blue-grey building named Temple View and there’ll be two big neem trees like sentries in front.’
Both Lakshman and Joshua ran their eyes over the building. It was a gated apartment complex with a wiry-looking watchman in front, sitting on a plastic chair, busy with a magazine. He had a terrifying trident of a namam emblazoned on his forehead, well in sync with the holy month. There were five, possibly six, towers inside the compound, each with at least twenty flats spread across five storeys.
‘Do you know which apartment exactly?’ Lakshman asked.
‘No sir,’ Durai said. ‘The driver said he never went inside, he just waited under the trees here.’
‘Any chance you have his name?’
‘No sir.’
Lakshman and Joshua got down from the car and moved beyond the trees, almost to the next compound, well out of Durai’s earshot.
‘So what do we do?’ Joshua asked.
‘Not sure,’ Lakshman said. ‘I can see three buildings here and probably two or three more on the other side. Twenty apartments in each makes it hundred
or hundred and twenty in total. How do we tell where our friend lives?’
Joshua stared pensively at Lakshman. ‘Jeez, I thought when he said he knows the house, we’d be coming to a house. But it’s a concrete jungle out here. How do we single out his apartment? It’s like looking for a needle in a pin-stack.’
‘Yeah. We don’t have a name and we don’t know what he looks like. He could be walking right in front of us and we wouldn’t know,’ Lakshman said. ‘One option is to bring the other driver along; he has seen him so must be able to recognize him. But we can’t do that till tomorrow or day after.’
‘But what can we do today? Right now? Let’s think about that,’ Joshua said.
They stood in helpless silence watching vehicles roar by on the road. Soon they saw Durai approaching them, wiping his face with a handkerchief.
‘If you want we can ask the watchman, sir,’ Durai said to Lakshman. ‘These people see everybody going in and out, they’ll know something.’
‘What do we ask?’ Lakshman said.
‘You don’t worry, sir. I will do the talking. Just come and stand next to me. I don’t want to take Professor because he might get scared seeing a foreigner and may not be willing to talk.’
‘What’s he saying?’ Joshua asked.
When Lakshman told him, he said, ‘It can’t hurt. Why don’t you take a shot? I’ll wait here.’
~
The wiry watchman dropped the magazine he was immersed in and rose from his perch, stiffening his spine in military-fashion when he saw Durai approaching with Lakshman in tow.
‘There’s nothing for rent, there’s nothing for sale. Anything else?’ he asked.
‘We’re not here for that,’ Durai said. ‘Do you have change for a hundred?’
The watchman fished in his pockets while Durai stood with a hundred-rupee bill extended in one hand.
‘I only have eighty,’ the watchman said.
‘Give me what you have,’ Durai said.
The money changed hands and Durai began chatting with the watchman.
There were some things in life a PhD from Georgia Tech had not prepared Lakshman for and this was one of them. The computer scientist that he was, he knew all about databases and information extraction. Give him a big database in any format and he knew how to run a query and retrieve all those bits and bytes of interest. Replace the machine with a man one or two rungs lower in the social ladder and he had no idea where to even begin. He stood next to Durai and watched him as he gave a master-class on the art and science of information extraction from a complete stranger.
