Cirisha looked up. This was the first time ever that Cardoza had told her to pull herself together. ‘I am sorry, Michael. I am not able to focus. I was awake for most of last night. And that’s the reason I got late today.’
‘It’s not about being late, Cirisha. For the last forty-five minutes or so, I have been noticing that there is something else going on in your mind.’
Cirisha turned her face away from Cardoza. She could not lie to him, he would see right through her. ‘Would you want to take off for a couple of weeks? Come back refreshed and charged up. I am fine with it. We are slightly behind schedule on this project but we will pull back.’
‘No, Michael. I will manage.’ Cirisha was firm. ‘I won’t give you reason to complain.’
‘That’s like a champion,’ said Cardoza and gave her a hug. It made Cirisha feel good. And when the coffee came in, she felt even better. ‘When will you be back from the meeting, Michael? We can finish this discussion today itself.’
‘What meeting? This is the meeting I wanted to have. There is no other meeting. I made it up because I found you so distracted that it was futile going on like that.’ Cirisha smiled.
Cardoza swiped his card and they walked back.
‘Yesterday I met a lieutenant from the Boston Police Department,’ Cirisha mentioned to him as they walked back.
‘What for?’
‘In connection with the Snuggles case. Remember I had told you about the Indian arm of Snuggles?’
‘Oh yes. Now that you say it, I do.’
‘The CEO has been arrested.’
‘Yes, yes. I recollect. You did mention it. Why do people take advantage of their seniority and do stupid things? The incremental benefits of doing such acts are negligible. Remind me. This could be a good subject for us to research. Behavioural impact of authority and hierarchy in a global organization. Getting sponsorship won’t be difficult. Some MNC will be happy to shell out the money for this.’
‘Not a bad idea.’ And then after a pause, she added. ‘So, are we doing the rest of the discussion now?’
‘No, Cirisha. I’ve lost the flow now. And in any case, most of the team would have disappeared. Let’s continue the session tomorrow.’
‘Sorry, Michael,’ Cirisha looked extremely apologetic. Cardoza smiled. ‘I will be in my room then. Please call me if you need anything.’ Cardoza nodded and they went their respective ways.
Cirisha got busy with the closing analysis of the Dharavi slum research. She was alone in her room, collating the data and arranging it in a presentable format, when her phone rang.
‘Cirisha Narayanan?’ A heavy voice. It was familiar, but Cirisha couldn’t make out whose it was.
‘Yes.’
‘Lieutenant Windle. I came by the day before.’
‘Oh yes. How can I help you, lieutenant?’
‘I called to inform you that Mr Singh has been released from custody, as per a court order.’
‘Oh, is that so? Thank you very much for letting me know.’ She didn’t seem too bothered.
‘Do you see any threat from this individual? I have also spoken with the chief of MIT Police. We would be happy to provide you with cover for the next few days in case you feel the need.’
‘That won’t be necessary, lieutenant.’
‘Do let me know should a need for that arise.’
‘Sure. I appreciate the help, lieutenant. And by the way, I have printed out the emails that you asked for. I’ll send them out today.’
‘I will have them picked up from your office either tomorrow morning or latest by the day after, miss. We are in any case waiting for a response from the Indian side.’
‘Sure. Thank you, lieutenant.’
Cirisha looked at the far right corner of her table. A folder with the printouts was kept ready for Windle. She prided herself on being so organized. She turned her attention to the iMac. In the time that she was talking to Windle, the computer screen had got locked. She had to key in her ID and password again to log in. She did that. Her mind was somewhere else. Her fingers moved on her iMac as if they knew the topography by heart. The moment she pressed ‘enter’, her eyes opened wide. Her hands, which were on the keyboard, started shivering. The right hand lifted itself and came to rest on her forehead. ‘What the hell was that?’ She hurriedly pulled out her laptop from her bag and brought it up. Despite having an iMac at work, she always carried her laptop. It was necessary given her travel schedule. After logging in, she searched in her laptop for something she had seen not so long ago. In a few seconds, it was up there. She looked into her screen and copied something to her phone. It would be safe and accessible there.
That’s when it dawned on her that what she was looking for was right there on her table. In one of the folders on the top right corner.
44
27th May, night
Boston
‘I will be late, Adi.’ When Cirisha told him this, Aditya was not too happy. But of late he had reconciled himself to the fact that Cirisha and he were progressively being torn apart from each other. The fact that Cirisha did not tell him why she would be late made it worse. The loneliness too was killing. Sitting at home doing nothing was not something he was too kicked about. And life in the United States can get pretty boring for someone who is used to the hustle and bustle of an Indian metropolis.
By seven in the evening, the campus was pretty deserted. Cirisha looked out of the window. The road to the parking lot was empty. Not a soul in sight. Three cars were still parked there. One was hers. The headlights were on in the other, which meant that someone was about to leave. The third looked like Deahl’s. Ever since he got suspended from academic activity, James had come in to work every single day, without fail. He would come in at 8.45 a.m. and leave around 5.30 p.m. Today, for some strange reason, he was still at work.
She was pacing up and down her room. Nervous. Was she doing the right thing? She couldn’t say. Maybe she shouldn’t do it after all. What if she got caught? A thousand and one questions went through her mind as she settled into her chair. She looked out of the window. Deahl’s car lights came on. She let out a muted scream. So Deahl was leaving. There would be no one on the second floor. Just thinking about what she was about to do made her legs start to shake. She forcibly held them still with her right hand. The clock on the wall in front said 7.43 p.m.
Convinced that the wait was enough and that there would be nobody on the upper floor, she got up and strode towards her cabin door. Turning right, she walked with measured steps towards the main door, which connected her floor to the elevator lobby. The fire escape was to the right. She walked straight ahead and pressed the elevator button, only to realize that she had only a floor to climb. Opening the door to the fire escape, she took the short flight of steps and reached the second floor. She looked at her watch. Ten minutes to eight.
She breezed through the glass doors into the corridor, which had faculty rooms on both sides. All the rooms were closed. She knew that Deahl’s room was the last one on the left—the closest that any academician could get to a corner office. She walked half the length of the corridor and stopped.
The door to the right had two names on it.
She pulled out a card from her jacket. With shivering hands she brought it up and held it against the swipe recorder on the door. The door didn’t open. She swiped it twice, thrice. Nothing happened.
‘Damn!’ she exclaimed. Holding the knob, she tried to force it open. She couldn’t. Her access card was programmed to open all rooms on the first floor, but not on this one. She had assumed it would work, but it didn’t. This was Deahl’s territory.
She stood there for ten seconds, rooted to the ground. And then as if she remembered something, she dashed out of the corridor, down the fire exit to the first floor, straight into her room. She rummaged through her drawers and pulled out something. Holding it in front of her, she blew a kiss at it and ran back again to the second floor. The entire sequence had taken three and a ha
lf minutes. This time when she swiped the card on the door, it opened with a click. She looked around to see if the noise had alerted anyone. No one was around. The only sound heard on the floor was her breathing. She entered, taking care to shut the door behind her softly. It was a large room, bigger than hers. She glanced around. The workstation on the right was where she wanted to go to. She walked around the table and reached down below, powering on the iMac. It came up in a jiffy. The screen prompted for the password. What was it?
With nervous hands, she reached into her trouser pocket and pulled out her phone. She kept it on the table and with both hands she started typing. Her eyes alternated between the phone and the iMac screen. First came a capital letter, followed by three letters, two numbers and an alphanumeric. She was praying that it was the right password. Just to be sure, she deleted the password and keyed it in again. Her mouth curled into a prayer. Her eyes shut for an instant. And she pressed the enter key. Her face betrayed thrill, joy, worry, fear and anxiety all at once. Just before she pressed ‘enter’, she had seen the fine print below the password prompt, which said, ‘27 days to password change’. It meant that the password was changed sixty-three days ago. At MIT, passwords are required to be changed every ninety days.
The blur started clearing a bit. The email which Richard had sent her was not a mistake. It was part of a carefully thought-through plan. But plan for what? She had no idea. He had anticipated something and written to her giving her his login password. It had to be for a reason. Had he planned to kill everyone well in advance? A week before the tenure interview? Did he kill the panel members only because they declined his tenure or was there more to it? What was Richard trying to tell her? Rather, what had Richard hidden from the world that he wanted her to know?
She wanted to check the files in Richard’s iMac to see if there was anything he would have wanted her to see. She had even brought a portable data drive to transfer data from Richard’s computer. The moment she opened the finder window, she went pale. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. Richard’s computer had been wiped clean. There was not a single file. It was as if someone had run a sanitizing program on it, which had wiped out the entire contents of the iMac. A click on the hard disk icon told her that over 90 per cent of the data storage was free. Did the MIT technology team format his disk to allocate the computer to someone else? But had they done that, Richard’s login ID would not have shown up when she switched on the iMac. Someone had intentionally deleted all the files.
Confused and worried, she got up and dragged herself to the door. Quietly, she opened it and stepped out. Lost in her thoughts, she walked to the main door, opened it and made her way to the lobby. The moment the glass elevator came up to the second floor, she rued her decision. Why didn’t she take the fire exit?
‘Aaah. Look who’s here!’ Her heart jumped out of her mouth when the elevator door opened. Inside, was Deahl. ‘What are you doing here, sweetheart? Can I help you?’ Her hands went cold with fear. How did she get so engrossed in thinking about Richard that she ignored the basics?
‘I came up to meet you. I wanted some pictures of Richard for my blog post. I had a few, but they are all of Richard with someone else. I was hoping you would have a solo one.’
‘I am afraid I don’t have any. You can check with my assistant tomorrow.’
‘Or else we can even check his iMac. I’m sure he would have some.’ She felt stupid the moment she said that.
‘The investigating agency was working on this a long time back. Maybe they sanitized it. We will have to wait for the forensic report, sweetheart.’ Cirisha nodded. ‘I will try and check with them if they found anything in the computer,’ Deahl said.
‘Thanks, James,’ Cirisha said as she took the elevator down to her floor. She couldn’t help but wonder how and why an investigative agency would sweep all the data away and wipe it off the hard disk. For forensics, they would either carry away the entire computer, or take a mirror image of the hard disk. Why would they erase it completely? Someone had wilfully cleared off the data. Why was Deahl lying? Was he? She didn’t have the answers. The only positive thing to arise from that evening’s adventure was that now she had very strong reason to believe that Richard had not sent her the email by mistake. The elevator stopped on the first floor and Cirisha got off.
The caretaker from Coimbatore called Narayanan again. Things had got worse. One of the emu farm owners, unable to repay his consumers, had committed suicide. That was not all—the anti-corruption crusader had made public an alleged list of people who had their money stacked away in Geneva.
At Narayanan’s insistence, Aditya hunted down the list on the internet that evening. Two names got him worried. At No. 239 was Narayanan and on No. 286 was Shivinder Singh. Both were accounts facilitated by Aditya Raisinghania. Somehow, the crusader had got access to a list of Indians having clandestine accounts with GB2 Geneva.
Aditya looked at Narayanan. Only one thing came to mind. ‘Let’s figure out a way of moving the money out of Geneva to somewhere safer.’ He walked to the phone kept in the living room, picked it up and dialled a number. ‘Good evening, Greater Boston Global Bank, investment banking, how may I help you?’
‘How did you get into Richard’s room?’ Aditya asked her that night when she told him how she had run into Deahl.
‘On the day of his tenure interview, he was running late. I was entering the Academic Block when I saw him running towards me. He threw his ID card at me and yelled, “I don’t want to give them a chance to screw around with me for even the smallest of reasons. Can you please swipe me in?” I shouted “best of luck” to him and he ran for the interview. Never came back.’
‘Thank God for IT inefficiencies. But I still think what he did was an innocent mistake.’
‘He is not the kind of guy who does unplanned things. He is very organized, extremely disciplined. Someone who is very particular even about the way his teacup is kept on the table. Walk into his room, all his pens would be kept straight on his writing pad, perpendicular to the table corner,’ Cirisha argued.
‘How does that prove anything?’
‘You are forgetting that he sent me his password. Something you don’t just share with anyone. It can’t be by chance. Would you ever, by mistake, send your password to anyone? Damn! I don’t know your password, leave alone anyone else’s. And Aditya, if by mistake you do send it to anyone, then the next thing you would do is change it. Despite sending it to me in end-March, his password is still the same. He didn’t change it. Isn’t that a good enough reason to believe that he sent it to me deliberately?’
‘Ciri, you must relax. If Richard wanted to tell you something, he would have. He had enough opportunities to. And more importantly, Cirisha, it is a bit dangerous to be caught by your seniors stealthily creeping into other people’s rooms.’
‘Let it be. It’s my headache. I will manage.’
Sensing that this could lead to an argument, Aditya changed the topic of discussion. ‘I’m meeting Cambridge Partners Hedge Fund on the 30th. Nalin has helped set it up.’
‘This Friday? Are you still in touch with him?’
‘Yes. Spoke to him a few times. He called me today. He knows some people there. Asked me to go down and meet them. He has also lined up a meeting for me with a boutique investment banking firm in New York tomorrow.’
‘Despite the fact that you cheated GB2.’ Aditya didn’t know what to say. He just hung his head and walked away.
‘In any case, if you are going to New York tomorrow, take Dad with you. He is getting bored here. Maybe both of you can do some sightseeing after the interview.’ Aditya smiled when Cirisha said this. It was as if she had spoken his mind.
Cirisha turned back and walked towards the window. It was still not dark. She could see the road in front of their house. A black pick-up truck was parked on the road, albeit a bit ahead, in front of the neighbour’s house. She had never seen that truck there. It seemed to be out of place. She stood ther
e for a minute, staring blankly at it. And then she drew the curtains and walked back. She hunted for Staring Down the Barrel. But she couldn’t find it. That’s when she remembered that she had taken it with her to work, but hadn’t got it back. She made a mental note that she had to bring it back the next day.
45
28th May 2008
Boston/Mexico
The inability to get to the bottom of what Richard was trying to communicate to her, if at all he was, was beginning to affect her. It was making her edgy, irritable and short-tempered. She was careful not to run into Deahl lest he ask her some uncomfortable questions about the previous night.
Meanwhile, Aditya and Narayanan took an early morning flight to Mexico. It was an eight-hour flight, and by the time they checked into Camino Real hotel in Mexico City, it was three in the afternoon. Built by Luis Barragan and Ricardo Legorreta, two of Mexico’s finest architects, Camino Real was a riot of colours. Narayanan and Aditya did not venture out of their rooms for the next three hours. They made no attempt to explore the city that they were visiting for the first time.
At six in the evening, there was a call from the reception. Someone was waiting for them in the lobby. Narayanan was a bit apprehensive. He had never been to Mexico or dealt with Mexicans. Aditya calmed his nerves and led him to the lobby.
Standing there below a towering Tamayo mural were two gentlemen in suits. Short even by Mexican standards, one of them was clean-shaven. A rectangular badge hooked to his belt hung slightly below his waist. The other individual was wearing dark glasses, which made him look a bit sinister. The duo led Aditya and Narayanan to a quaint little bar in the lobby, opposite the La Huerta restaurant. Narayanan was stunned when he saw the décor. The bar was built over water. He could see exotic fish swimming right below his chair. Aditya had to tap him to get him to focus on the task on hand.
Bankerupt (Ravi Subramanian) Page 16
